‘What was that for?’ he wants to know.
‘For being you.’
We each take a load of equipment and, as we’re putting it all into the Community Centre – which is doubling as our project headquarters for the duration – a van pulls up. Out of it steps one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
As I stand and gape at her and my mind tries to work out what she’s doing here, she strides over towards me. She’s tall, with a skein of thick dark hair that’s pulled back into a plait, and she turns everyone’s head with her commanding presence.
‘Do you know where Sally Freeman is?’ she asks no one in particular.
I step forward. ‘I’m Sally Freeman.’
She beams at me and holds out her hand. I take it and she has the handshake of an all-in wrestler. ‘I’m Dana Barnes,’ she tells me as she pumps my hand, even though the information makes me none the wiser. ‘I’m from the Council. And I’m here to help you.’
Chapter Seventy-Four
Johnny lugged another heavy bag of compost towards the Community Centre. It was about the tenth he’d moved already and there was a pleasant ache starting in his shoulder muscles.
It had been great to see that so many people had turned up to help them this morning. He’d been worried that after the initial enthusiasm, the actual commitment might have proved too taxing for most people, but he was pleased to see that he’d been wrong.
He was wrong about other things too. Those he was less pleased about. He risked a glance over his shoulder to where Sally was standing. She was with her boyfriend, and Johnny, he had to admit, had been surprised to see Spencer here. For some reason, he thought it would just be him and Sally heading up the project – but it looked like that wasn’t to be. No matter how much he promised himself that he wouldn’t get hung up over Sally, that he’d move on, somehow he couldn’t quite make himself do it. However hard he tried to ignore his feelings, he couldn’t quite keep at bay how much it hurt to see her with another fella.
His life felt in such turmoil. Where the hell was he going with himself? Once upon a time, he had been quite happy with who he was, content around here, content in his relationship. Now the whole thing seemed to be up in the air and he couldn’t get a grip on his emotions. Take the break-in at the garage. It wasn’t that bad – he could rationalise that. Some of his good paintings had been destroyed, but most had escaped scot-free. It had taken him and the lad the best part of Saturday to clear the mess, but that wasn’t so bad. So why did he feel so upset about it? Why was he currently trying hard not to break down and cry about it like Charlie had? Was it just symptomatic of how he was feeling generally? His dreams, literally, had been kicked around and he didn’t know quite where to turn next. Should he just trash the rest of his paintings, close up the garage and be done with it?
‘Can you give me a lift with this?’ It was the woman from the Council and she was struggling to lift a bag of compost on her own.
‘I’ll do it,’ Johnny said. ‘You don’t want to put your back out on the first day.’
‘You neither,’ she said, but nevertheless she put the bag down.
‘I’m Johnny Jones,’ he told her.
She shook his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you. Dana Barnes.’
Ringo came trotting up, not wanting to be left out of the introductions.
‘Is this your dog?’
Johnny thought about denying him. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Ringo.’
At the mention of his name, Ringo rolled over and presented his stomach for tickling. Old tart.
‘I adore dogs,’ Dana said, obligingly giving Ringo a good scratch.
‘So now you’ve got a friend for life,’ Johnny said.
She looked under her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. ‘You or Ringo?’ she asked.
‘Both, I hope.’ Johnny laughed. ‘Are you going to be with us throughout the project?’
‘Yes,’ Dana said. ‘This is a big undertaking. We want to make sure that it’s all kept on course for you.’
‘It’ll be good to have an extra pair of hands.’
‘Well, you seem to have done all right by yourselves so far,’ Dana said. ‘You’ve got a pretty good turnout here. That’s not always been the case.’
‘That’s mainly down to Sally.’ Johnny flicked a thumb in his ex-girlfriend’s direction. ‘She’s the powerhouse round here.’
Dana looked over towards Sally. ‘Seems like a great lady.’
He followed her gaze. ‘Yeah,’ he agreed. ‘She is.’
‘Are you her partner?’
‘Used to be. But not any more.’ Johnny hoisted up another bag and Dana took one end of it. As she did, their eyes met and she smiled at him. Something in Johnny’s heart warmed up and he smiled back. They walked down the path together, the bag of compost between them, Ringo sticking close to Dana’s heels. ‘Done many of these before?’
‘Yes,’ Dana said. ‘Loads. But I have a really good feeling about this one.’
Strangely, Johnny felt the same way too.
Chapter Seventy-Five
I look over towards the Community Centre and can see Johnny and Dana unloading the last of the stuff on the lorry together. Hmm. What happened to my nice man from the Council, Richard Selley? I thought he was the one who’d be coming along to oversee this project. What’s this woman doing here, striding about looking all Lara Croft?
She looks like she’s got Johnny organised already. Hope she doesn’t think that she’s going to start bossing me around or there could well be trouble. First and foremost, this is my project. The whole thing was thought up and instigated by me, Sally Freeman, Single Mum and Superwoman, and I just hope she remembers that.
Johnny laughs out loud at something she says and I realise that I haven’t heard my friend guffaw like that in a long time. A frown settles on my forehead and I don’t know why.
Ted, Brian and Jim from the allotments are armed with their own tools and have set about digging out the small area of wasteground bordering the Community Centre. Even after a half-hour they’re accumulating a small pile of house bricks, bottles and general bric-à-brac. They’re going to remove the remnants of some sorry-looking, weed-ridden turf and replace it with a mass of shrubs. We’ve got lots of glossy green, low-maintenance plants to go round there which should keep them busy for a while.
The hoodies are looking restless. ‘What do you fancy, lads?’ I ask. ‘Digging or painting?’
Jason, Daniel and Mark look from one to the other and eventually mumble as a collective, ‘Digging.’
‘Good.’ I hand them spades. They handle them as if they’re grenades. Perhaps they’re going to need some digging lessons from Ted, Brian and Jim. ‘See that area behind Bill Shankly House?’ I point to the area that’s enclosed by a graffitied brick wall. ‘We’re going to try to make a garden out of that.’
Three sets of eyebrows shoot up in surprise and maybe horror or even fear.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘It’s a bit of a tall order and it will all be down to your hard work.’
They’re looking like they wish they’d opted for painting now – or preferably had decided to stay in bed. But piss in Sally Freeman’s hallway and there’s a price to pay. If I get any trouble from them, I’ll simply remind them of that.
‘Here’s a copy of the plan.’ I hand them a piece of paper. Johnny and I downloaded the design from the Internet and then jiggled it about a bit to fit the space and, more importantly, the budget.
They take it and, bless, try to work out which way up it is.
‘This is the back of the flats,’ I point out. ‘Where the bins are. We’re going to build a fence to screen them, covered with clematis.’
They look blankly at that.
‘Flowers,’ I simplify. ‘We’re going to cover it with flowers.’ My finger traces a line on the paper. ‘That’s a winding gravel path. Either side is going to be lavender.’ I see the blankness descend once more. ‘More flowers. It smells nice. At the back there’s go
ing to be a sheltered bench . . .’ won’t risk confusing them with the word arbour ‘. . . and some more flowerbeds. Okay?’
They nod in unison, but they all look very confused and more than a little alarmed. I might sound more knowledgeable than my new young friends but this is only stuff that I learned on the internet last week, so I’m barely one step ahead of them.
‘Go with Mrs Kapur.’ My neighbour is already standing there, kitted out with her wellies, floppy hat and paintbrush. Despite her being the size of a seven-year-old child, the hoodies look terrified of her. ‘She’ll organise you and I’ll be over in a minute to work with you.’
‘Come on, lads,’ Mrs Kapur says. ‘We’ve not got time to hang about.’ She marches off, lifting her sari above her wellies. There’s a spring in her step that I haven’t seen in years and it makes me smile to see it. Inside that frail frame, there’s a steel core. The hoodies, heads down, hoods up, jam their spades under their arms and trail after her obediently.
I decide to go and see what Johnny and Ms Gardener of the Year are up to. They’re chatting over a bag of compost when I approach. I fold my arms and, for some reason, I feel my shoulders squaring up. Ringo wags his tail, but I’m not in the mood for that now. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Yeah,’ Johnny says. ‘This is the last of the compost. Once that’s all inside, I’m going to get cracking on painting the Community Centre. I’ll do the outside first, I think, while there’s so much stuff indoors.’
‘And I’m going to help the guys here with their digging and planting,’ Dana Barnes says. ‘If that’s what you want me to do.’
‘Sound,’ I say. ‘Looks like you can manage without me.’
‘Yeah,’ Johnny says. ‘We’ve got it under control.’
‘Good. Lovely. I’ll go and sort out the garden area behind the flats with Mrs K and the lads.’
‘Good idea.’ Johnny nods.
‘Well, then,’ I say. ‘I’ll be off.’
Johnny stands with his hands on his hips. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘No, no. I’m just letting you know where I’ll be if you need me.’
He looks to Dana. ‘We should be okay, shouldn’t we?’
‘Yes,’ Dana agrees. Way too readily in my opinion. ‘But we know where you are if we get stuck.’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘That’s all I wanted to tell you. So that you know I’m not far away. I’ll just be over there.’ They stand and look at me. ‘Well. Can’t hang around here chatting. Stuff to be done. Lots of it. Lots and lots of it.’
They both nod in agreement. Seems I’m not needed here then. So, with that, I stomp off in search of Mrs Kapur and the hoodies.
Chapter Seventy-Six
‘You’re very cute when you’re angry,’ Spencer says.
‘I’m not angry,’ I snap in a tone that could possibly be interpreted as ever so slightly angry. I tug furiously at the weeds that surround me, snatching them from the ground, ripping them from the earth. That will teach the little bastards to grow where they’re not wanted.
‘Your face is looking a little bit thunderous,’ he tells me as he patiently weeds next to me. ‘Are you cross with me?’
‘I’m not cross with anyone,’ I insist. More yanking. This is clearly the place where all bindweed goes to flourish. ‘I’m just busy. There’s a lot to do.’
‘And I’m here to help you,’ he says softly as he touches my arm. ‘We all are. You’re not alone in this.’
At which point I want to burst into tears. I am alone. I’ve never felt more alone in my life. Johnny’s supposed to be helping me, and instead he’s helping Dana Barnes, even though she’s from the Council and should know what she’s doing without any help from Johnny. Isn’t she supposed to be helping us? Well, she’s not helping me!
‘Last weekend was a disaster,’ Spencer says miserably. ‘I so wanted you to love Alderstone.’
‘I did,’ I say. ‘It was wonderful.’ But my voice is flat and unconvincing even to my ears.
‘Was it really just because of Charlie that you rushed away?’
I sigh and stop exterminating the weeds. ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘And no.’
That makes him smile. ‘Care to throw any light on that?’
‘I’m not like you, Spencer,’ I try. ‘I’m not one of your people.’ Even here, helping to turn this neglected square of wasteland into a garden, he looks out of place. I told him to wear old clothes. This is what he looks like. He’s wearing jeans, but they’re barely-worn designer label denims. He has on a casual shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, but it’s linen and as white as a snowflake. He’s beautiful, flawless and he just doesn’t look right here. Even Kyle’s mum in her white crops and stilettos looks less out of place than Spencer.
And that’s what I felt like at Alderstone. I stuck out like a sore thumb in what I thought was my trendy gear, which just looked cheap and tarty in that splendid setting. I fit in here, among the dirt and the weeds, the dog ends and the discarded condoms. This is my world. Spencer’s designer jeans and linen shirt are meant for Alderstone. They’re meant for acres of lawn, for stables, for oval lakes built in eighteen-whatever-the-fuck it was.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Spencer straightens up. He takes my shoulders and turns me towards him.
Over in the corner, I catch sight of the hoodies who are all concentrating on their digging – hoodies now discarded. Underneath their thin veneer of surliness, Jason, Daniel and Mark are turning out to be really lovely lads. Who’d have thought. Mrs Kapur is alongside them painting the wall with little bird-like strokes to cover the obscene graffiti.
I lower my voice so that they can’t overhear us. ‘You know exactly what I mean.’
Spencer narrows his eyes. ‘What’s this about? Everyone loved you.’
‘I don’t think so.’ I shrug his hands off my shoulders.
My boyfriend frowns and somewhere cogs click together. ‘Did my father say something to you? Is that what this is about?’
Either my love is very perceptive or this has happened before. And I guess this is as good a time as any to come clean. This relationship isn’t going anywhere. It can’t. ‘Your old man warned me off,’ I say. ‘Told me I was nothing more than a sink-estate gold digger. Or words to that effect.’
‘He said what?’ Spencer is incredulous.
I blunder on. ‘He told me that he’d never condone a relationship between us and that you were only here because he’d insisted that you get out and do a real job before taking over the estate, in order to teach you some kind of lesson.’
My boyfriend’s face turns thunderous. ‘Part of that is certainly true,’ he tells me. ‘I’d been living the high-life, enjoying myself too much as a bachelor in my father’s opinion. All he wanted me to do was choose a wife and settle down.’
Someone more suitable than me to grace the halls of Alderstone, no doubt.
‘Coming here was supposed to be some sort of punishment for me. A veiled threat that I was to see the error of my ways and settle down. “Show him a taste of real life, that should bring him back into line” – that sort of thing.’
That much I already know.
‘The trouble is, Sally, that he hadn’t banked on me loving it. Loving you.’
And I hadn’t banked on that either.
‘Don’t let this come between us, Sally. You mean more to me than you can ever know. What my father said is indefensible and I wholeheartedly apologise for his behaviour. There’s no excuse for it.’ His eyes are bright. ‘But we can prove him wrong. Prove that this isn’t just a flash in the pan.’
‘How are we going to do that?’ I don’t say that I’m in no hurry to make a return visit to Spencer’s ancestral home.
Sweeping his arm round the tatty garden-in-waiting, my boyfriend says, ‘We could bring him here. Let him see what you’ve done. How hard you’ve worked to make this happen.’
‘Oh no,’ I say. ‘No way.’ I might run this area down myself, but I certainly don’t want anyone
else doing it. Mr Whateverhisnameis Knight can keep his distance. There’s no way I’m having him turn his nose up at Kirberly.
‘Sally,’ Mrs Kapur shouts across at me. ‘Can you come and open the top on this white spirit for me, doll?’
‘I’ll be right there!’
‘Let’s not talk about it now,’ Spencer suggests. ‘We need some time and space to discuss this properly.’
‘There’s really nothing to talk about, Spencer.’
‘I think there is,’ he tells me. ‘There’s a whole lot more that I want to say to you.’
Well, it will have to wait, because now I’ve got stuff – important stuff – to do.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
The dusk is gathering and it’s the end of a very busy day. The orange globe of the sun is hanging over Liverpool, threaded through a few stoic clouds, bathing everything in a golden glow. Virtually everyone else has gone now. Mrs Kapur and her hoodies have packed up after making fabulous progress on the garden. I’ve been amazed at how much work they’ve put in. I think they have been too. Every time the lads showed signs of flagging, Mrs Kapur prodded them along. Who’d have thought that my tiny little neighbour was great foreman material!
I stifle a yawn. The first day has been a great success and all I want to do now is have a hot bath and curl up in front of the telly with a takeaway. I’m so knackered that I can’t even contemplate cooking tonight. Even sitting upright might be a bit of a challenge.
Charlie comes over and leans against me. I hug him to me. ‘You’ve worked really hard today,’ I say. ‘Both you and Kyle. Thank you for that. If Kyle wants to, he can stay at ours for a Chinese.’
‘Okay,’ Charlie says.
‘Have you enjoyed it?’
‘Yeah.’ He shrugs.
‘Gonna do it again tomorrow?’
‘Yeah.’ He shrugs again.
‘Come on then, let’s make our way back. I’ve got to drop these bits off at the Community Centre then we’re done for the night.’ I need to put my trowel and rake away, hang up my gardening gloves.
All You Need is Love Page 24