Keeping Juliette Company

by Sarah Picson

  Ellie sunk down on a bench outside St Mary’s Church, relieved to find some shade under the droopy branches of an enormous oak tree and glanced at her watch: she was five minutes early.

  Squinting up, she took in the giant, stone walls of the church, its imposing steeple stretching up high into the electric-blue sky, a large metal cross at the very top. It was quite simply perfect and today they had an introductory meeting with Father Keene.

  Ellie scanned the entrance of the car park for Dominic’s van.

  ‘Miss Saunders?’

  She sprang up. Father Keene had appeared noiselessly at the top of the stone steps, the dark, wooden church door ajar behind him.

  ‘Oh, hello, Father.’

  She climbed the steps towards the priest’s outstretched hand, his cool palm against her sweaty one. He was a tall, slender man with a serious gaze: a pillar of black, with a neat white collar sitting at his throat.

  ‘Are we still waiting for Mr…’

  ‘Moffit,’ she said, finishing his sentence.

  It was a name she had said to herself many times in private. Ellie Moffit. She couldn’t pretend she liked it very much. She preferred Saunders but there was no question that she wouldn’t make it her own. She’d been practising her new signature, always making sure that she scrunched the paper up and threw it away before Dominic caught her.

  ‘Will Mr Moffit be joining us shortly?’

  Ellie bit her lip and peered over her shoulder. Mr Moffit was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure he’ll be here soon.’

  ‘Shall we wait inside?’

  Ellie nodded and followed Father Keene into the cool interior of the church.

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ he asked.

  A cup of tea was the last thing she wanted, but if it bought Dominic a few more minutes, it was worth it.

  ‘Yes please, that would be lovely,’ she replied, watching Father Keene’s back disappear further into the church.

  Ellie took a few steps forward, a sense of reverence settling over her. Row upon row of benches led up to an elevated platform with a large altar at its centre. Elegant candlesticks glittered on the pristine, white cloth covering the altar, illuminated by the sun as it crashed in through the mosaic windows behind it. A domed roof soared above her, decorated with intricately carved stonework. The building smelled old, of generation after generation that had come through its thick doors.

  This was exactly the kind of church she’d always imagined she would get married in. She could already picture her father’s loving gaze, her mother’s proud tears and Jenny’s enthusiastic grin, as she walked down the aisle. Ellie shivered suddenly, as a chill from the stone floor crept up her legs and wrapped itself around her.

  ‘Here you go,’ Father Keene said, appearing at her side.

  She smiled and took the delicate cup that he offered her, full to the brim with watery tea.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, hoping Dominic would arrive any second, so she wouldn’t have to drink it.

  Father Keene cleared his throat, his serious expression in no way diminished by the tea making.

  ‘Any sign of Mr Moffit?’ he asked, his question echoing off the stone walls.

  Ellie shook her head, a feeling of embarrassment threatening to engulf her like a stormy wave.

  ‘I’ll just call him.’

  Turning away, Ellie fumbled in her bag for her phone and dialled Dominic’s number. It went straight through to voicemail and she had to turn back to Father Keene sooner than she would have liked.

  ‘I’m so sorry, but I think he might be stuck in traffic,’ she said, in a small voice.

  They both knew this wasn’t true. Lunchtime traffic in the small town of Thistleby was unheard of. The priest stared at her with his sobering gaze.

  ‘Miss Saunders, it’s important that both of you are present at this meeting,’ he said, his hands disappearing behind his back. ‘If you wish to be married here, of course.’

  ‘Yes, we do. Of course, we understand.’

  ‘Would you like to wait a little longer and drink your tea? If Mr Moffit doesn’t arrive, perhaps we should re-schedule for another day.’

  ‘That sounds great, thank you. I’m sure if we give him a few more minutes.’

  The priest nodded and glided into an adjacent room. Ellie took a deep swig of her tea and instantly regretted it. It wasn’t tea, it was warm, milky water, but she kept sipping it and fifteen minutes later, when it was obvious Dominic wasn’t coming and she’d exhausted all the small talk she could muster, Ellie emerged back out into the piercing sunlight, the church door shutting firmly behind her.

  Ellie marched to her car, a strong aftertaste of milk in her mouth. Her blood ran hot through her veins as all the things she planned to say to Dominic fizzed and crackled in her mind like angry fireworks. She tried his number again, each unanswered ring like a tear at her nerves. When it went through to voicemail she threw her phone aside and started her old, red car. It coughed and spluttered a few times but finally rumbled to life.

  Ellie pulled out of the church car park and as she drove through Thistleby High Street something caught her eye. A familiar vehicle was approaching from the opposite direction: Dominic’s van.

  She leaned forwards and sure enough it was Dominic concentrating on the road and singing along to the radio. He didn’t notice her and caught by surprise, she was too slow to toot her horn at him, but from her rear-view mirror she saw him disappearing up the street in the direction of the church.

  Ellie’s heart soared. Dominic had remembered the meeting. If she hurried, she could get back to the church just behind Dominic and the priest might still see them. She swerved into a side street and did an awkward three-point turn, her tyres bumping up against the kerb, before pulling out into the high street again. Ellie could still see Dominic’s van; it was getting closer to the church. She put her foot down and tore up the road after him.

  He was four cars in front of her as his van pulled up to a mini-roundabout, the church was straight across. Ellie glanced at the clock in her car, she was sure the priest would still see them. Dominic’s van pulled off to the right at the roundabout and Ellie scrunched her eyes up, her fingers tightening round the steering wheel.

  ‘It’s straight over!’ she bellowed.

  He must have forgotten where the church was. She squealed in annoyance and willed the cars in front of her to go faster. By the time she took a right at the roundabout, there were only two cars between her and his van. She beeped her horn. The person in the car in front made a rude hand gesture in reply, but Ellie had other things on her mind, as she watched in disbelief as Dominic’s van began to speed up as he drove out of town. The priest would never see them at this rate. She swore under her breath. Surely if he was lost, he should be slowing down. And that’s when her glimmer of hope extinguished. Dominic wasn’t lost, he knew exactly where he was going.

  Ellie continued to drive, remaining two cars behind his van, along narrow country roads. They passed farms, woodland and a pub they’d always meant to try, but she didn’t notice any of it. After almost ten minutes, they came to a little hamlet of small, terraced cottages and Dominic’s van pulled off the main road. He was going to see a customer, Ellie thought. That was the only explanation. She told herself she should turn around now, that they could discuss the meeting with the priest when he got home later, but she didn’t. Instead, she pulled off the main road too, following him from a distance. For a reason she wasn’t entirely sure of, Ellie didn’t want to draw attention to herself.

  The houses in the hamlet were tightly packed in together and had a tired, shabby look about them. Many had overgrown front gardens and one had a caravan dumped in the middle of a lawn. None of the houses had driveways, so cars were parked everywhere down the narrow road, wheels mounted on pavements, the grass verges churned into muddy pits long ago.

  The van took a left and came to a sharp stop. Ellie drove past the end of the road and parked a lit
tle further up. She swivelled around in her seat just in time to see Dominic jump out. Ellie noticed with an unwelcome jolt that he didn’t have his work polo shirt on. She frowned. Dominic always wore one when he was working, he’d taken great pride in getting his company logo printed on a dozen shirts when he’d started the business. Instead, he was wearing smart jeans and a short-sleeved, red-checked shirt. The last time she’d seen him wear that was at their engagement party. Her stomach lurched.

  Reaching into his van, he pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry as he lit one up and inhaled, before blowing out a long trail of smoke. He threw something up in the air, glinting in the sunlight and caught it in the palm of his hand. Ellie recognised his silver lighter.

  Dominic sauntered over to one of the houses and pushed open the front gate. Ellie screwed her face up, he would never turn up to a client’s house smoking, it made no sense. He knocked at the front door and it opened immediately, as if someone had been watching and waiting for him. A shadowy figure stood back to let him in.

  As the door closed, Ellie tried to control her breathing. She told herself to go home, but another part of her refused to comply; a part of her that demanded an answer. In the rear-view mirror, she saw her red, strained face looking back and a surge of determination flooded through her. Before she could change her mind, she pulled down her sun hat, shoved her sunglasses on and scrambled out of the car.

  Apart from an elderly man walking his dog some way off, the street was empty. Walking by Dominic’s van, Ellie peered in. A pile of receipts sat on the passenger seat and a few crisp packets were scattered on the floor. Nothing unusual there. She continued walking, feeling ridiculous, but gaining courage with every step.

  With her heart drumming a forceful beat against her ribs, she looked down to find her hand on the front gate that Dominic had pushed open only minutes earlier. Ellie walked as steadily as she could down the path, overgrown with unruly grass and paused at the front door. She pressed her ear against it. Silence. With her hand raised, she suddenly wondered what she would say when the door opened. And then with a defiance that surprised her, she clenched her hand into a fist and pounded on it anyway.

  There was no response. She knocked again. Harder.

  Finally, Ellie heard a muffled sound deep within the house. From behind a square of frosted glass, she saw a figure approaching. She swallowed; her mouth as dry as sandpaper. The door was pulled open to reveal an irritated face.

  ‘Yes?’

  A silky, pink dressing gown had been hastily tied around the woman’s waist and Ellie could tell she wasn’t wearing much of anything beneath it. Large, dark eyes, carefully painted with thick eyeliner, glared out at her and black hair tumbled down about her shoulders. Ellie’s heart plunged to her toes, her stomach spasming as if someone had just kicked her. With her eyes stretched wide behind her sunglasses, all she could do was stare at the woman.

  ‘Well?’ said the barmaid from The Bell & Whistle. Then her head tilted to one side. ‘Do I know you?’

  Ellie swayed. It felt as if someone was trying to pull a carpet from beneath her, her legs were hollow and wobbly.

  ‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ the woman snapped.

  ‘Scarlette!’

  A gasp caught in Ellie’s throat as she heard Dominic calling from within the house. Scarlette arched an eyebrow and tossed her mane of black hair over her shoulder.

  ‘I’ll be right there,’ she purred.

  Ellie put a hand out to steady herself against the wall. Scarlette tutted loudly and shook her head.

  ‘Whatever it is, I’m not interested.’

  The slam of the door shattered Ellie’s future in an instant. Her hopes and dreams lay in broken shards at her feet. With unsteady legs, Ellie made her way back down the path. It wasn’t until she got to the gate that she broke into a run. She wanted to be anywhere in the world but here.

  Chapter 6

  After a frantic start to the day, Robert was relieved to pull the car, laden with luggage, onto the driveway of their new house in Thistleby. It was a wide building, with rectangular windows and a wooden front door in the centre that sat at the top of three stone steps. Robert noted that the cream render of the walls was cracking and peeling in places, nothing he couldn’t fix. The driveway was big enough for three cars and a tall hedge dominated the perimeter, giving them privacy from the road and their neighbours.

  It would be hard to find anything wrong with this house and Robert knew it, but nevertheless he glanced at Abi out of the corner of his eye. She had made various weak excuses about not wanting to come house hunting with him during the summer, so she now stared up at their new house for the first time.

  ‘Well?’ he asked.

  He heard her swallow, followed by a faint shrug of her shoulders.

  ‘It’s okay.’

  At least she’d put her phone down and was taking a proper look, he told himself. He took advantage of the opportunity.

  ‘I’ve chosen the best room for you,’ Robert said. ‘It’s bigger than your old room.’

  Abi pulled off the headphones she’d been wearing for the entire three-and-a-half-hour journey and threw a distracted glance out of the window.

  ‘When is the rest of my stuff getting here?’

  Robert pushed his shoulders back.

  ‘The removals van will be here soon.’

  He jumped out of the car and marched up to the door, his long legs enjoying the freedom after being cramped in a small space for so long. Fishing the house key out of his pocket and with Abi following in his shadow, he entered the house.

  The first thing that hit Robert was the smell. His nose twitched. It wasn’t unpleasant, just strange and unfamiliar: the smell of other people. The hallway was dated, with a fraying carpet beneath their feet and faded floral wallpaper peeling at the corners. Robert knew it had belonged to an elderly couple who had wanted to downsize and it was obvious that they hadn’t done much to the house in years, as all the outdated fixtures and chips in the woodwork caught his eye.

  Abi poked her head into the downstairs rooms and Robert tried to see the move through her eyes. A new start in a place they didn’t know, stuck here with only him for company. He almost felt sorry for her.

  ‘See if you can guess which room I’ve picked out for you,’ he called, as he watched the back of her slim legs disappear up the staircase at the end of the hallway.

  Robert hauled their suitcases into the house, arranging them in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. Finally, he unclipped his racing bike from the roof of the car and wheeled it into the hallway to find Abi sat on top of the suitcases picking at the hem of her skirt.

  ‘Did you find your room?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘We’ll decorate it,’ he promised.

  Abi pushed a lock of unruly hair behind her ear.

  ‘I liked my old room.’

  Robert breathed in sharply.

  ‘Let’s take some of these cases upstairs, shall we?’

  ‘I’m hungry.’

  Robert paused. Now he thought about it, he was starving.

  ‘How about we go on the hunt for our nearest takeaway then?’

  For the first time that day, Abi smiled. He really missed that smile. It reminded him of the five-year-old girl he once knew.

  A hiss of brakes caused Robert to glance towards the open door as a long shadow fell across the front of the house.

  ‘We’ll go after the truck is unloaded, okay?’ he said.

  All Robert received in reply was a twist of Abi’s lips. Turning away, he marched outside to greet the truck.

  ~

  Bright rays of late-afternoon sunshine flooded in through the patio doors, bathing Robert and Abi’s legs where they sat on the floor, their backs up against the island in their new kitchen. Boxes of noodles, prawn crackers and spring rolls were scattered around them, as they ate with chopsti
cks they had picked up from their local Chinese takeaway.

  It had only taken ten minutes to get to the centre of Thistleby along narrow country roads. A lush cricket green had greeted them at the bottom of the high street, with a playground tucked away in the corner and three well-maintained tennis courts. People buzzed in and out of shops and laughter and chatter could be heard from the terraces of several cafés. Robert had never lived in the country before but he had to admit there was something refreshing about being surrounded by so many trees, with not a high-rise building in sight and he’d only counted one set of traffic lights on the journey in.

  As they sat there munching their takeaway in silence, a wave of tiredness swept over Robert. He’d spent the last four months in a flurry of activity getting them to this point: spending every spare moment online, making calls and clocking up the miles to and from Thistleby in his car. Abi had just been a blurry face in the background, drifting in and out at mealtimes, always glued to her phone, as he had attacked the steep mountain of things necessary to settle them into their new life.

  A slurp from Abi, as she tried to manoeuvre a long trail of noodles into her mouth, drew Robert’s attention and he concentrated on her grave face.

  ‘You’ve got to admit, it’s a nice house, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘I’m going to visit your mum in a minute. Do you want to come?’

  ‘Tonight?’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, wiping crumbs from his trousers. ‘I want to go and check she’s okay. What do you say?’

  Abi didn’t answer straight away. Robert thought he saw a spark of curiosity and something else in her eyes, but then as quickly as it had been there, it disappeared, like the tug of a blind being pulled down.

  ‘I’m tired.’

  ‘Don’t you want to check that she’s settled in?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

  ‘But you’re going. I don’t need to.’

  Robert clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to argue with her further.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘When will you be back?’ she asked, her gaze wandering across the empty kitchen.