Tomorrow's Promise

by Gillian Villiers

  She tried to change the subject, to divert him, but he was too quick for her. He wasn’t outright nosy, but she found herself giving him some details of her background just to be polite – her parents overseas, the lonely childhood. She kept her answers short, though, and the wry grin that crossed his face at each prim reply did not escape her. See, she wanted to say, I’m very boring, so leave me be.

  ‘Tell me about your family,’ she asked eventually. Normally she avoided personal questions, but she had to get him onto another topic. And he was happy enough to talk. He clearly got along well with his parents and two sisters, for all that he mocked them gently as he talked. It might even be that he missed his parents since they moved to Ayr, where his oldest sister was now settled with her husband and two children.

  Lara made all the right noises as she listened, not giving any sign of the slow sinking of her heart. She wanted to find something to dislike about Mick Jensen, instead she just realised how different they were.

  ‘I suppose it sounds pretty dull,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Brought up in Loreburn. Family little more than an hour’s drive away even now. I haven’t done all that fascinating travel-the-world-stuff that you’ve done.’

  ‘There are worse places than Loreburn to spend your life.’ She meant this as a comfort, a compliment even, but he grinned as though she had been sarcastic.

  After that, she kept her contributions to the conversation even more monosyllabic. He was making her nervous. She didn’t understand him and he didn’t understand her. That was all there was to it. Perhaps the evening on their own was a good thing, if only to make this clear to him.

  ‘When do think you’ll be able to move into Ladybank Row?’ asked Mick as they ordered coffee. She wondered if there was a note of tension creeping into his voice.

  ‘As soon as we can. I mean, it’s very nice at your place, but we don’t want to presume …’

  ‘As I said before, it’s no bother. I wasn’t asking because I wanted you to move out.’

  ‘I’m sure we’re in your way though, especially as there will be two of us soon. It can’t be like it was when you shared with Steve.’

  ‘Believe me, it’s nothing like it was when I shared with Steve.’

  ‘That’s what I mean. I know I said I’d only stay for a month or so and it’s already nearly three …’

  ‘Lara, if I wanted you to move out, I’d say so, OK? I was just asking about Ladybank Row out of polite interest. Stop apologising, OK?’

  Lara was glad when the waitress brought their bill and it was time to go home. She had known coming out for this meal would be a mistake. It was one she would make sure she didn’t repeat.

  Chapter Eleven

  The evening hadn’t ended the way Mick had hoped, although he wasn’t quite sure what that was.

  He had tried and tried to get Lara to talk to him, and sometimes he thought he was succeeding. Then she would back off again, withdraw with that cool politeness of hers, until he wanted to scream with frustration. Perhaps the meal hadn’t been such a good idea. It seemed to have put her on edge.

  On Sunday morning Mick decided to forget Lara and go for a run. He might even pop in and see Steve. A bit of uncomplicated male company would make a nice change.

  As he jogged along the road near Steve’s new place he was surprised to see Ryan O’Donnell coming out of one of the terraced houses. He hadn’t thought of this as Ryan’s part of town.

  ‘Hiya, how you doing?’ The boy jumped guiltily at the sound of his voice. Not a good sign. ‘You did well at football Friday night.’

  ‘Oh, hmm, hi.’

  Mick examined him, wishing he had time to take more interest. Ryan had grown in the last few months, he was gangly and far too pale, with more spots than ever.

  ‘Have you found a job yet?’

  ‘You sound like my social worker. Not likely, is it?’ The boy sniffed and made to move off.

  ‘You could always consider going to the Tech, like we discussed. They do really good PE and leisure activity courses. There’re lots of opportunities for work there …’

  ‘Aye, right. I can just see me working at one of those posh gyms.’

  ‘Just a thought, Ryan.’

  ‘Look, got to go, OK?’ The boy sloped off, shivering in his too-thin jacket.

  Mick watched him for a moment. These kids really needed someone to make an effort for them. Why was he doing this football training if he couldn’t give them a hundred and ten per cent? Ryan had a point, perhaps he was as bad as the social workers. Playing at helping but never carrying anything through. What these kids needed was something worthwhile in their lives. If he couldn’t find them jobs, at least he could give them something to focus on, like … Well, what could he do? What was he good at? Only football, really. But what about a football tournament? Now, that was an idea.

  Lara was happy. She was happy. She had a job that was mostly satisfying, with a good bunch of kids and a fairly motivated staff. She had the Ladybank Row project that was so big it frightened her, but at least it guaranteed she wouldn’t be bored for months, if not years, to come. And her good friend had arrived and they were taking the first steps on the houses.

  So she wouldn’t think about the other things: her mother’s invitation to Dubai, Alex being too quiet, or Mick. If she didn’t think about any of those things she would be fine.

  They would need to get workmen in to do the major jobs at Ladybank Row, but in the meantime Lara and Alex decided to get on with a bit of sorting out themselves. The first weekend after Alex’s arrival they got really stuck in.

  Alex, who much preferred being outside, set to clearing the rampant undergrowth in the gardens. It looked like a hard job, but she struggled on. There were a few outside jobs that definitely needed doing, like re-painting those lovely little wrought iron gates, but for now Lara thought that inside was a priority. She decided to make a start on the bedrooms in Number One.

  She found that demolition work could actually be quite good fun. She put all her weight down on the end of the crowbar and watched with satisfaction as the side wall of the flimsy built-in cupboard came away. ‘We’re building something here,’ she said to herself, and smiled at her own joke.

  They had decided to concentrate on one of the four houses to begin with. They were stripping all the rooms of the end terrace, now known as Number One. During the week, Alex had started to rip up the downstairs carpets and attack the shabby kitchen cupboards.

  Lara was surprised at how much difference even a day’s work could make. Teaching was so slow and painstaking by comparison. She inserted the end of the crowbar into another crack and levered it up. This time the back of the cupboard came away, revealing a patch of ugly orange wallpaper and a great stain of damp. It looked like damp-proofing would be a very good idea.

  A persistent drizzle drove Alex back inside, which pleased Lara. She didn’t think working on the gardens was really a priority at the moment.

  ‘Can you help me carry all this stuff downstairs?’ she said, indicating the pile of boards that had once been a wardrobe.

  ‘We need to get a skip,’ said Alex.

  ‘You’re right.’ Lara should have thought of that. ‘I’ll order one on Monday.’

  ‘You’ll be working. I’ll order one,’ said Alex. Lara stared at her. Alex didn’t usually take the initiative. Now she carried on stolidly clearing away the debris, as though was she had said was nothing out of the ordinary. Lara decided not to comment.

  Then Alex said something that surprised her even more.

  ‘How are things going with you and your Mick?’ she asked, making Lara jump. It was two weeks since the abortive meal and she definitely didn’t want to think about it.

  ‘He’s not my Mick, don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘He’s really nice, Lara.’ Alex glanced up once, then pushed her long plait back over her shoulder and continued with her work.

  ‘Of course he’s nice. He’s letting us both stay in his house. But that�
��s all it is.’

  ‘I think he likes you,’ said Alex. Fortunately she didn’t push the point and Lara was happy to leave it there.

  The problem was, it made her think about Mick even more than she had been already. She had learnt something about this man she would never have suspected when she first met him. She already knew the scruffy clothes and casual manner were a front for a conscientious teacher. But even more impressive was the football coaching that he did voluntarily and unpaid, every Friday evening. Mick hadn’t told her about that, of course, but Sandy Woods had mentioned it in passing. Everything Lara learnt about Mick made her respect him a little more. It was a shame she really wasn’t the right sort of person to go out with him.

  The following day a roofer came round Ladybank Row to give them a quote for the work that needed doing. His visit made Lara forgot all about Mick: it gave her something much more worrying to think about. They discovered the reason Ed McAnulty hadn’t put in a bid on the houses.

  Lara knew the roof at Ladybank Row was one of the first things that would need attention, and she had been pleased to find a roofer willing to come around and give her a quote on a Sunday. She hoped it wasn’t going to be too expensive. She and Alex waited nervously as Gary Glover crawled slowly through the attic spaces, pried up ridge tiles, explored the venting, and then came down to give his report.

  ‘Did you have a survey done on this place?’

  Lara could tell that what he had to say wasn’t good news.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Not a full structural report, just the valuation type.’

  ‘Aye, thought as much.’

  ‘Is there a problem?’ said Lara. ‘Is the roof not sound?’

  Mr Glover was a small, sandy-haired man of indeterminate age. His responses were as slow as his methodical examination of the properties. ‘Some of the sarking needs replaced, but that’s not a big job. And a few of the slates are blown, but again it won’t be a great load of work to sort that.’

  ‘So what’s the problem?’ asked Alex anxiously.

  ‘You see the wee corrugated iron roofs, on the lean-to?’

  ‘Yes. We know we’ve got to do something about those. The iron is rusted, it’ll have to go.’

  ‘It’s no’ just the iron that’ll have to go. It’s the asbestos underneath you need to worry about. Nasty stuff, asbestos.’

  ‘Asbestos?’ said Lara, horrified. ‘But why wasn’t this picked up on the survey?’

  ‘It would have been,’ said the man laconically. ‘If you’d had a full survey.’

  Lara’s thoughts were in turmoil. Asbestos was poisonous, wasn’t it? It was dangerous – and expensive to get rid of. Why hadn’t anyone noticed it until now?

  ‘I want to see for myself,’ she said. The little man took them round to the back of the houses where each had its own lean-to which acted as a pantry for the kitchen. When they looked closely Lara could see that the roofs were indeed double-layered. There was the rusting metal and then, below, if you stooped to look closely, a pale whitish material that was already breaking up in places.

  ‘Can see why they put it there, like,’ said the man. ‘Good insulation and in those days they wouldnae worry about all this Health and Safety. You can’t have it now, though. It’ll have to go.’

  ‘Is it white asbestos or blue?’ said Alex. Her health studies had obviously come in useful here. ‘It looks like white to me.’

  ‘White, of course, which is no’ so bad, like. Still, it’ll have to be done right. I can give you a quote to remove it myself, but it won’t be cheap.’

  ‘We’d be grateful if you would,’ said Lara, trying not to sound as worried as she felt. ‘You’ve got my e-mail address, haven’t you? Can you email it to me? We’ll let you know what we decide to do.’

  She should have known something like this was going to happen. They hadn’t even started the building work before they hit this first snag. What else was going to go wrong? Lara felt tense and nervous as she hadn’t done in months. This was going to delay them and could seriously eat into their profits. It was all her fault, for having involved Alex in her crazy plans. She was sure Ed McAnulty would have known about the asbestos, and would be expecting them to trip up at the first hurdle.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lara had decided. She didn’t want to go to Dubai so she wouldn’t.

  She dialled the number and waited for the slow connection to be made. Glancing out through the window she saw the little willow tree tossing its soft green leaves in the summer breeze. She liked these early summer evenings. She was very glad she was here and not in the searing heat of the desert.

  ‘It’s Lara,’ she said when her mother answered.

  ‘Lara?’ Her mother sounded sleepy and Lara remembered belatedly that Dubai was a few hours ahead of Scotland. It would be late evening there. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you,’ she said. ‘I’ll be quick. I just wanted to say I really don’t think it’ll be possible for me to come out for the retirement party.’

  ‘Oh Lara, that’s such a shame.’ Lara was used to that tone from her mother. One of disappointment. She nearly offered to go out some other time, to try and make it up to them, but held her tongue. She was sure her mother didn’t really want to see her. She just needed her presence for the sake of form. It was time Lara stopped wishing otherwise.

  Then her mother said, ‘Please, Lara.’ And she sounded so desperate that before she knew it Lara was softening.

  ‘I didn’t want you to waste your money for such a short visit but if you really want …’

  ‘Oh Lara, do come. We really want you. Don’t we, Derek?’

  Lara heard a mutter in the background that sounded like agreement.

  ‘If you’re sure …’

  ‘Absolutely. Darling, this is wonderful.’ Her mother sounded wide awake now. ‘I’ll get on to the travel agent first thing tomorrow.’

  Lara shook her head as she replaced the telephone receiver. She couldn’t believe she had just agreed to do the very thing she had decided against.

  Mick had felt Lara was relaxing with him over the last week or so. Did that mean she did enjoy his company? But if so, why did she find it so difficult to show it? He had pondered this problem during Sunday morning, but hadn’t come to any conclusion.

  So now he had decided to beard her in what he saw as her own territory, and headed over to Ladybank Row. He collected his friend Steve on the way, for moral support.

  ‘See if you can get Alex out of the way and give me some time on my own with Lara,’ he said.

  ‘Like that, is it?’

  Mick eyed his friend, wondering if he would regret opening his heart to him. He decided he would. In any case, there wasn’t time. They passed the station, the waste ground, the garage and warehouse, and rounded the corner into Ladybank Row. It was strange he had never noticed before what a quiet little place this was, right in the centre of town.

  Unfortunately, things didn’t work out as he had hoped. Steve and he were immediately roped in to carrying the piles of carpets and other rubbish into the garden in preparation for a bonfire. He was alone with one or other of the girls for a minute now and then, it was never long enough to start a conversation. Lara and Alex were both grubby and pink-faced from their exertions, but he was impressed at how much they had done.

  ‘You’re going to have two problems with this fire,’ said Steve, as they dragged the last bit of plyboard onto the pile. ‘Firstly, no matches to light it with. Secondly, no fire lighters to make sure the blaze takes.’

  He had his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans and was watching the girls with amusement. He was more like his brother than he would have cared to admit, in his attitude to women and building work.

  Lara checked her watch. It was already after five. ‘I should have thought of that. Will there be a shop open at this time on a Sunday?’

  ‘Of course there will,’ said Steve. ‘I’ll go if you want.’ Mick smiled gratefully, especially when his friend added to Ale
x, ‘Why don’t you come too? You can help me carry back some bottles of lemonade; I think we all deserve a drink.’

  Alex looked surprised, but to Mick’s delight she agreed.

  That just left him and Lara. Mick perched himself on a broken down garden bench. ‘Come on, take a break. Looks like you’ve been hard at it all day.’ He smiled encouragingly and gestured to the other end of the bench. Lara chose to sit on an up-ended petrol can instead.

  She took a deep breath and looked around. ‘It looks like it, er, might rain, later.’ Despite sharing a house, it was the first time the two of them had been alone for a while, and she looked uneasy.

  ‘Might, might not. The forecast was mixed. It’s going to be worse tomorrow, which is a shame. I’ve got the youth football practice in the evening.’

  ‘Oh, football.’ She turned, her attention caught. ‘I thought you did that on a Friday?’

  ‘Aye, most of the time. But I’m thinking of entering a couple of teams in a competition, and they need some extra practice.’ And some extra discipline, he thought.

  ‘That’d be great. Great for them, I mean. I hear they’re … not the easiest group of kids.’

  ‘No.’ Mick grinned briefly. ‘Not exactly kids, either, but still at the stage where they need something to occupy them, to keep them out of mischief.’

  ‘The Council should fund projects like yours.’

  ‘They run other schemes. Boys like these wouldn’t go if it was official. And especially not if they had to pay.’

  ‘So you do it in your own time for nothing.’

  Mick shrugged. It was no big deal as far as he was concerned, although anything that made Lara look at him with approval in her dark eyes had to be positive. Now the mood had been set, he didn’t have time to waste or Steve and Alex would be back and he’d be no further forward.

  ‘You know that meal out we had?’ he said.

  ‘Ye-es.’

  ‘Would you like to do that again some time?’

  She blushed, just a faint darkening of her creamy skin, but noticeable all the same. ‘I don’t think we should. It was lovely, of course, but so expensive, I wouldn’t want to waste your money.’