‘So when do you want us to come down to the station?’ Robyn asked.
‘How about Wednesday?’ Sammy said. ‘I’ve got a slot around ten – the head of Wrenwick Primary was supposed to bring his Year Six choir in to sing for us but the whole ruddy lot of them have gone down with chicken pox.’
‘Oooh, that’s great!’ Robyn said. ‘Not about the chicken pox,’ she added hastily, ‘my Toby had that when he was three… he was a miserable little sod with it.’
She looked at Nina for approval. Nina nodded. With no sign of a job interview despite the dozen or so CVs she’d sent off, it wasn’t like she’d anything better to do.
‘I’ll see you then,’ Sammy said, beaming at them.
‘You will,’ Robyn said, grinning back at him. ‘Thanks so much!’
Sammy bid goodbye to them with a last megawatt smile and went back to talk to Nasser. He was having a word with Peter, who’d taken some time out from the office to be there. When Nina looked at Robyn, she caught a wistful look as she watched Sammy greet them.
‘You really like him, don’t you?’
‘What?’ Robyn turned to her. ‘Sammy?’
‘No.’ Nina laughed. ‘Peter. So what’s going on with you two?’
‘I like him but it’s not that simple.’ Robyn’s shoulders seemed to slump. ‘He told me his wife is still living at his house.’
Nina stared at her. ‘Still? But I thought… Wasn’t that the issue when you broke up last time?’
‘Yes – the only one really. If not for that…’
‘Hasn’t it occurred to him that he really ought to do something about it then? They’ve definitely split up?’
‘Ages ago – well before I went out with him.’
‘Has he divorced her?’
‘Not yet.’
‘You think he doesn’t want to?’
‘No. I know he does – at least he says so.’
‘It’s a strange way to go about things.’
‘He says they’re definitely separated even though they live in the same house. He says the only reason they’re both still there is because neither of them has enough money to get somewhere else. I get it, but it’s just too weird for me to think of them living together, even if what he says is true and they’re not in the same bed at night. I think he was hoping we’d…’
‘And I think maybe you were too.’
Robyn nodded. ‘But I couldn’t get my head around his living arrangements last time and I’m no better at it this time.’
‘You should have told me. I can’t believe you’ve been bottling this up when you could have talked to me.’
Robyn shrugged. ‘I suppose I felt stupid.’
‘God, of course you’re not!’
‘Well,’ Robyn said ruefully, ‘you did try to warn me where this might go if I got in touch with him again.’
‘And I also know that you did it with the best intentions. So, what now?’
‘We’re off again. I’ve told him that’s it this time unless his domestic situation changes.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Nina said. ‘And you don’t want to give it a go at all?’
‘What’s the point? A relationship that starts off on this footing is hardly going places, is it? So this is me, back to being single and ready to mingle again. Not that my mingling pool is very big these days.’
Nina glanced across at the three men, chatting amiably, and she caught Peter look their way with an expression full of thinly veiled regret, almost as wistful as the one Robyn had sent in his direction. It was clear they liked each other, but Nina didn’t know what anyone could do about it now. Robyn had made her decision and, in the circumstances, perhaps it was for the best that it had come from her head and not her heart.
‘Still,’ Nina said. ‘At least he’s helped with all this. I mean, he stuck his neck on the line at that finance meeting to put a stop to plans to sell the land and we ought to be grateful for that. And he’s taken the task of finding other ways to cut costs and balance the books and he didn’t have to make more work for himself like that. He did that for us….’ Nina paused. ‘I daresay he did it for you…’
‘He did,’ Robyn said. ‘I want to believe he’s a good bloke and he’s being straight with me, but it’s hard, you know?’
‘For what it’s worth, he seems honest enough to me. And don’t forget’ – Nina nudged Robyn playfully, hoping to lift the mood a little – ‘your intentions weren’t completely honourable at the start.’
‘They were very honourable,’ Robyn said with a little laugh that showed Nina was getting somewhere. ‘They were for a very good cause.’
‘Charity.’ Nina nodded.
‘Well, yes. And for a chance to stick it to the man!’
Peter looked across again with a small, sad smile. Robyn didn’t flinch and she tucked away whatever emotions she might have been feeling so that she looked perfectly calm and carefree. It made Nina sad to see. She’d honestly always thought Robyn and Peter looked like a good match and it was a shame to see that things would never work out for them. But she could also see why his home situation might make Robyn nervous, particularly as, for whatever reasons, he hadn’t been straight with her from the start about it.
Sammy bid Nasser and Peter goodbye and walked back to the Mercedes he’d parked at the kerb. Peter said something to Nasser and then turned, as if he might come and talk to Robyn and Nina. But Robyn didn’t give him the chance. She simply walked away. Poor Peter, already on the way over, had no choice but to come to Nina anyway and make awkward small talk.
He was a slight man, not much taller than Robyn, who was no giantess. He carried a little extra weight too, but his dark eyes were kind and sincere and they crinkled into a nervous smile as Nina greeted him. If he’d wanted to run after Robyn, it seemed he had enough of a sense of decorum not to.
‘It’s been a long day,’ Nina said, indicating that she was talking about Robyn by a little flick of her head in the direction her friend had just taken. ‘Emotional – you know?’
‘For both of you, I would imagine,’ he replied earnestly. ‘Robyn told me you lost your husband too – this must mean a lot to you.’
‘Yes.’
Peter shoved his hands in his pockets and looked to the garden. ‘It’s a nice thing to do in his memory.’
‘Well, it’s not just about that, but, yes… We’re both very grateful for your help. Everyone is.’
Peter waved away the thanks. And then he looked to Robyn’s retreating figure, perhaps wondering if she might come back to join them if he waited a while. But after a few moments, during which she showed no indication that she was going to return, he looked at Nina.
‘Good luck with the fundraising,’ he said.
‘Thanks.’
He nodded, and then left her to walk back to his own car.
Poor Robyn, Nina thought. Poor Peter too, for that matter. If dating was going to be this complicated for her second time around, Nina was glad she’d decided long ago that she just wasn’t going to bother.
Chapter Eight
‘Don’t you dare tell him that you think five pounds is a lot of money,’ Robyn warned. ‘We don’t make apology for it and we don’t make it sound like a rip-off – we say it steadily and proudly and we expect people to give it gladly. It’s for a bloody good cause after all.’
‘I wasn’t going to,’ Nina said with a hint of reproach in her voice.
‘I know you. It’ll come out without you realising it. Five pounds is a perfectly reasonable donation, and folks can cough up if they want to or not if they don’t – it’s a free choice and you don’t need to get a guilt trip over it.’
‘I thought we’d agreed on three. You’ve gone with five all of a sudden and you could have at least run it by me before we got here today.’
‘Because I had time to think about it and three is just ridiculous for all the work we’ve put in. If I’d told you, you’d have tried to argue the toss.’
‘I would
– it’s almost Christmas for a start.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘People are short of money for anything but Christmas things.’
‘Bollocks! Anyway, isn’t Christmas supposed to be about charity?’
‘No, it’s supposed to be about drinking and eating and getting into debt buying presents you can’t afford.’
Robyn grinned. ‘They can bloody well cut back and give us the money instead. Their Uncle Alf doesn’t need soap on a rope or dodgy aftershave from the market – he’s probably got a cupboard full from all the other years he got it and never used it.’
Nina turned back to the window with a faint smile. Outside on the road, the traffic roared past under a grey sky. She and Robyn were sitting in the reception of Wrenwick Community Radio. It was hardly Broadcasting House, but they weren’t going to let Sammy and his eager local listeners go without making some money out of them. At least, money for their charities. Nina’s stomach still churned, though. She wasn’t comfortable with this situation at all, but as long as Robyn took up the slack, she might get away with a few grunts of agreement in the right places. Nobody who knew them both could deny that Robyn was the talker anyway.
‘And we’re both happy with the twenty-third of December for the grand unveiling?’
‘Do you think it’s too close to Christmas?’ Nina asked vaguely, her gaze still on the window. ‘I mean, I know we agreed it but…’
‘I think it means people are more likely to be charitable because they’ll be full of festive spirit.’
‘I suppose so…’
The next time she took her eyes from the window it was to see that Sammy was coming out of a side door to greet them. Nina and Robyn stood up.
He smiled. ‘Ladies!’
His hair looked blacker and more solid than ever, as if someone had covered his head with tyre rubber. Nina wished she could stop staring at it and she hoped he wouldn’t notice because she really didn’t think that she could.
‘Thank you for coming,’ he continued.
‘We should be thanking you for letting us,’ Robyn said. ‘It’ll really help our campaign.’
‘Let’s hope so, eh?’ Sammy said in his rumbling voice. ‘If it helps in any small way then I’ll be very happy to offer the slot. Come on through to the studio and we’ll get set up. Have you ever done anything like this before?’
‘Never,’ Robyn said.
Sammy looked at Nina.
‘I’ve never even been inside a radio station,’ Nina said.
‘Well that’s good!’ Sammy said with a laugh. ‘It means you won’t notice how bad I am at this stuff!’
‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not true,’ Robyn said, laughing too. ‘But, yeah, at least we wouldn’t know the difference.’
Despite having no experience of the inside of a radio station, Nina was still surprised by the lack of sophistication in the studio when Sammy led them in. She’d expected swish décor and gleaming equipment, but what she found was headphones held together by sticky tape, swivel chairs with the stuffing spilling out of them, filing cabinets with broken handles and a line of dirty mugs that looked as if they might not have been washed for quite a few shows. There was a distinct smell of damp too, and a bucket at the corner of the room hinted at frequent leaks when there was wet weather.
‘If you two would like to park your lovely selves behind that desk there…’ Sammy said, directing them to the right place, ‘I’ll get my bit set up and then we might just have time for a quick coffee before the show starts. Can I offer you one? It’s only instant, I’m afraid – we have a kettle at the end of the hall but that’s about it.’
Nina’s involuntary glance went to the discarded mugs on another desk. She guessed Robyn’s had too as they both politely declined the offer.
‘No worries,’ Sammy said cheerfully, clearly not noticing anything amiss. ‘Make yourselves comfortable here. I’ve got one or two things to check before we start.’
‘So we can talk?’ Nina asked.
‘I was rather hoping that you would,’ Sammy said with a laugh.
‘I mean while you’re doing whatever you’re doing,’ she replied. ‘We won’t be out on air or anything if we chat here next to the microphone?’
‘Oh – no, of course not! I’ll let you know when you’re on air but, for now, nobody will be able to hear you outside this room so chat away!’
Sammy went to a bank of computers and a desk covered in buttons and started to tinker. Robyn looked at Nina.
‘How are you doing there?’ she whispered.
‘A bit nervous. You?’
‘I’m OK. It’ll be fine, you know. There’s literally going to be about twenty people listening. And it’s not like he’s interrogating us, is it?’
‘So what’s that great big lamp he’s pointing at us now?’ Nina asked. Robyn grinned.
‘See – you can’t be that scared if you can still crack jokes.’
‘I’m not scared – I can just think of lots of other things I’d rather be doing. Like having teeth drilled… without anaesthetic.’
‘Right, ladies!’ Sammy clapped his hands together. ‘Me and the team are ready for you!’
‘Team?’ Nina asked, looking around the studio containing just the three of them. Sammy cocked his head at a lucky waving cat, its golden paw steadily beating back and forth.
‘Jackie’s my right-hand man – gives me plenty of moral support when I need it.’
Robyn laughed. ‘Jackie?’
‘Jackie Chan… the actor? I got him in Hong Kong so it seemed only fitting for a name.’
Sammy donned a set of headphones and instructed Nina and Robyn to do the same with two sets he’d placed in front of them, then pressed a button to play the opening jingle of his show. Nina’s stomach was doing somersaults but she looked across at Robyn, who was rock solid and calm, and she instantly felt better. Robyn had her back, as she always did, and Nina suddenly felt silly for being worried at all.
‘Good morning!’ Sammy purred as the jingle came to an end. ‘You’re listening to Sammy Star on Wrenwick Community Radio. With me this morning I have Robyn Brassington and Nina Munro, two lovely ladies who’ve popped in to tell us about a fundraising project they’re involved with. But before we do that we’ll have a tune. How about this classic from the eighties – the best decade ever invented – “Money’s Too Tight (to Mention)” by the awesome Simply Red…’
‘Fitting track,’ Robyn said as he turned off the mic and put the record on air.
Sammy was quickly flicking through some notes and he looked up at her. ‘Sorry?’
‘Money too tight to mention,’ she said. ‘Fitting when we’re talking about raising money.’
‘Oh… yes, right…’
Nina and Robyn exchanged a look of confusion. He’d gone from incredibly friendly to incredibly vague. He looked down at his notes. Had one of them said something wrong, something to offend him? Nina could hardly imagine what in the few minutes since they’d gone on air.
‘Is there anything we can’t say?’ Robyn asked.
‘What?’ Sammy looked up.
‘You know, things we have to be careful about because we’re on the radio? Things we’re not supposed to talk about?’
‘No… um… the sponsors… you know…’
Sammy stopped and his gaze went slack for a moment. Nina couldn’t pinpoint just what had changed, but whatever it was had been sudden and swift. She glanced across at Robyn and could see that she’d noticed something too.
‘Is everything alright?’ Robyn asked. Sammy just stared at her. And in front of their eyes he seemed to turn grey. He began to sweat – it ran down his face – and then he clutched at his arm, his eyes bulging.
Nina shot up from her seat. ‘Sammy!’
‘Holy shit!’ Robyn cried. ‘Nina – do something!’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know!’
‘Sammy…’ Nina called, her voice filled with p
anic now. ‘Sammy, what’s wrong?’
There was no time to wait for a reply. In the next second he began to slide sideways from his chair. Nina raced around the desk to catch him. He was solid and heavy as a felled tree and he was struggling to breathe.
‘Call an ambulance!’ Nina cried. ‘I think he’s having a heart attack!’
Chapter Nine
Nina closed the front door and locked it behind her. She leant against it and looked around her silent hallway with a sigh of relief. It didn’t matter who called or knocked on her door or what they wanted, because she wasn’t answering tonight. She was exhausted – physically and emotionally – and she needed time to collect her thoughts and restore her energy.
Kicking off her shoes, she let them tumble into a corner of the hallway before shrugging off her coat and hanging it on the balustrade, and then, with a weary sigh, she went to the kitchen to find the half-bottle of brandy that had been stuffed in the back of the cupboard since before Gray had died. It had been that kind of a day and, if she’d thought her life had become boring in the two years since she’d found herself living alone, today had made her realise that perhaps she ought to be careful what she wished for. If the day she’d had counted for excitement then she’d take boring any time. It was the sort of day that, once upon a time, she’d have told Gray all about, and he’d have smiled and told her how amazing she’d been, and they’d have snuggled together on the sofa where she’d have felt safe and cared for in his arms, where she’d have been able to forget all the stresses that had gone before.
The Garden on Sparrow Street: A heartwarming, uplifting Christmas romance Page 9