Any Day

by Brian Lancaster

  Every evening, Adrian called—they spoke more than texting now. On Thursday he could not suppress his excitement when he updated Lenny about the progress on the house.

  “Damn good choice with Redfern, Lenny. Pippa’s crew will be pretty much done by tomorrow. Honestly, the back garden looks amazing and the front is almost finished. Not only can you see the incredible view at the back now, you can actually tell there’s a house here. I was going to send you photos, but I think you should see for yourself in person. They’re going to wait for you to decide whether you want to replace the patio tiles before adding the finishing touches. We can discuss that at the weekend. Toni’s helped me remove the kitchen wall and open up the back for the new patio doors. And, as instructed, on Monday I ordered them on your account along with the windows you requested, the wooden-framed ones that match the original style. Ten-day turnaround, they say. So they’re being fitted on Friday of next week. I thought getting things sorted out here in the sticks would be far more difficult. Pippa gave me the name of a local guttering expert, someone who can check, then match replacements or patch what you already have. They’ll be here Tuesday. Toni started checking the electrics this morning. They’re not in a bad state of repair but are going to need updating. She reckons she’ll have downstairs done by next Thursday—so we can start plastering the following weekend—and the rest by the Friday after that. I suggest you get those kitchen units ordered A-SAP. Did you get a chance to look at my rough sketches?”

  “Wow, slow down a bit. Rough sketches?” Leonard snorted. He had one open on his desktop monitor. “Swear to God, Adrian, these are better than professional architectural blueprints. They’re all to scale too, aren’t they?”

  “As near as.”

  “Love the idea of steel-grey and white units. Monochrome, but there will enough natural light from the rear doors, and the lighting design above for the evenings to compensate. They’ll also blend with the original dark pine flooring. In fact, I love it all. And I agree with you on the Aga front. They may look fancy and they’re great if you know what you’re doing—but I don’t. I’m going to opt for a simple but large conventional cooker with a double oven. I’ll also go with a double-door fridge freezer. How many bar stools can we fit one side of the kitchen island?”

  “Comfortably? Four, with one either end. But I imagine you’ll put a family dining table in the space by the patio doors.”

  “I’ve already picked one out and reserved a list of other pieces from my antique site. Got a couple of amazing burnished brown leather Chesterfield sofas and side chairs for the living room. And the table and chairs will complement the Welsh dresser.”

  “On that note. Don’t forget the skeleton keys. So we can unlock those drawers. Toni needed the dresser moved away from the wall—to check out the wiring—and had to have a nose around beneath the dust covers. She was really impressed, asked me if you’d consider selling the piece if she gave you a good price. I said she didn’t have a hope in hell.”

  Lenny laughed. Adrian already knew him well.

  “You’re right. If Luke wanted it in the house, then so do I.”

  “Good. One last thing. A slight change of plan tomorrow evening.”

  “Sounds ominous.”

  “The handbrake on my truck has been playing up for a while and seems to be getting worse. Nothing too serious, but I’m getting it looked at Saturday morning. The thing is, the mechanic’s from a place called Newton—half an hour’s drive away—but doesn’t know the area well. Rather than him getting lost trying to find Bryn Bach, I asked Megan if I could leave the truck in their car park and the keys behind the bar. The Manor Inn’s a pretty easy-to-find landmark. So I thought I’d drive there tomorrow after finishing here and park the truck overnight. But that means I’ll need to meet you at the pub tomorrow, rather than at the house. Is that okay?”

  “So you’re not cooking for me?”

  “I could still do that. You’d need to pick me up from the pub first.”

  “No, it’ll be too rushed. Let’s eat and drink there again.”

  “I’m really sorry, Lenny. I had it all planned, a nice cooked dinner. But I don’t want to chance anything when it comes to the brakes, especially on a long drive back to Norwich.”

  “Totally agree. I want you in one piece. It’s no problem, Ade.”

  “I can still cook for us on Saturday night. I’m buying the food fresh tomorrow. That old fridge of yours is running fine, by the way. A bit noisy but working. I’ve even used the stove a couple of times this week.”

  “And haven’t burnt the house down?”

  Adrian chuckled. Leonard sensed he had been disappointed about changing their plans, but they would still have the night together.

  “House is still standing.”

  “See you tomorrow night then. Looking forward to it.”

  “Yeah, me too, Lenny. Me too.”

  When Leonard ended the call, he smiled to himself, pleased he had no nosy marketing manager looking over his shoulder. Tossing the phone on to his sofa, he looked about the house he had lived in for twenty years, at the familiar but largely empty walls, at the simple, but now tired and uninspiring furnishings.

  Since Kris’ death, he had used none of his creativity or enthusiasm to breathe life into his real home, to try and turn the place into somewhere he wanted to inhabit. Instead he treated the space like a mausoleum. All his recent attention and newfound enthusiasm had been focused on Wales.

  Maybe in the future, with Adrian’s help, that was something he would remedy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Familiar

  Adrian arrived at the now-familiar bar of the Manor Inn at six-thirty, lucky to find a small round table still available. He straddled the knee-high stool facing the front door as soon as he’d bought drinks, anticipation filling his chest. The place had almost become as familiar as the Red Lion back in Drayton and, if pushed, he could probably recite the bar menu word-for-word. He’d introduced Toni to the place on Monday—almost empty, as usual—when she’d met Megan and the daughter, whose name turned out to be Maggie.

  Friday night and the place was bursting at the seams, with all the larger tables already occupied. Tonight Megan was assisted by a man around the same age—her husband probably—and her daughter, all helping to serve the crowds. He noticed the man at one end of the bar now, during a lull in service, chatting and laughing with a group of men around the same age. Even being busy, both Megan and her daughter found time to come over and say hello, to collect the truck keys from him and ask after Leonard and the renovations on the house. No doubt they had become a popular topic of gossip in the quiet town.

  “You’re a proper regular now, aren’t you?” said the daughter, Maggie, as her mother returned to the bar with empties. Adrian recognised the flirty look well, had spent a lifetime reading the signs.

  “Feels that way,” laughed Adrian. “Who are all these people, anyway. And why is the place so busy?”

  “Are you serious? It’s the May bank holiday weekend, isn’t it? Where have you been?” Adrian had been holed up in the house all week, with just Toni’s smartphone playlist and Bluetooth speaker to keep them company. “Most of them’s holidaymakers. Dad’s pleased, of course, ‘cause all our rooms are booked up and we’ll probably be rushed off our feet next week.”

  “Is that your dad behind the bar?”

  “Yeah, lazy sod. Usually lets us run the place when it’s quiet. Had to get off his backside tonight. Those old blokes are all his local buddies. You should go say hello.”

  “I’m good, thanks,” he said, winking at her, which made her laugh and put some colour in her cheeks.

  When she left, Adrian rechecked his phone. Almost seven. Leonard had texted him from Swindon and said he’d be arriving around sixty-forty-five, traffic willing. Why the hell did he feel such nervous excitement just looking at the message? Maybe because he wanted Leonard to relish the way the house was shaping up as much as he did. Or more likely becaus
e he knew he would have someone sharing his bed tonight.

  During the week, Toni had insisted they venture out farther during a couple of the evenings, to find different places to visit and more varied food to eat. Adrian had come to realise just how provincial the area actually was— probably the way Howie had felt about Newbridge and the surrounding area. Drayton in Norwich, where Adrian lived, was hardly a metropolis, but at least the town had a regular bus service, its own train station and more shopping choices. Then again, maybe that was the charm of somewhere like Newbridge, that the town remained far enough away from the noise and trappings of modern life.

  “What are you smiling at?” came the warm, all-too-familiar voice.

  Adrian’s head shot up, followed by his body, which almost knocked the table over.

  “Lenny,” he said, wanting to hug the man, but quickly coming to terms with his surroundings. Instead, he thrust a hand out in welcome.

  “Whoa, careful there,” said Lenny, his own hand coming down to steady the table. Without caring what people thought, Lenny ignored the outstretched hand and stepped around the side of the table. Without hesitation, he grabbed hold of Adrian and pulled his body into his own. Adrian allowed himself to be encompassed by the man, let the warmth and strength of his arms hold him as though they were long-lost friends.

  “Are you sniffing me?” muttered Adrian after a second, chuckling while squeezing Lenny back.

  “What if I am?” said Lenny, letting him go and taking a seat. “I’ve missed you.”

  Adrian waited until they both sat down, for Lenny to remove his coat and settle, continuing to stare intently at him until their eyes met.

  “I missed you, too,” he said, winking. “What was the hold up?”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a gale whipping up out there. Don’t think there’ll be rain, but it’s going to be a wild night.” Lenny winked back at Adrian. “If I play my cards right.”

  Lenny’s grin widened into a full, unabashed smile, and railroaded Adrian’s usually ever-present appetite for food. He wanted them both to drink up so he could take Lenny back to the house.

  Unfortunately, Lenny had other ideas.

  “Before that, however,” he said, placing his phone and car keys next to the pint glass, “I really need this pint. And I’m famished. Haven’t eaten since breakfast. What are the specials tonight?”

  While Lenny chugged on his beer, Adrian rattled off the three specials, none of which had particularly caught his imagination. They both settled on the beef and ale pie with onion mash, on the basis that it would probably be quicker to prepare and finish up.

  When Adrian returned from the bar, Lenny was on his phone. Adrian stood by his stool and mouthed to Leonard whether the call was private, Lenny shook his head and pulled the phone to his chest.

  “It’s my cousin, Mary. Just give me a second.”

  Adrian nodded and tried to concentrate on his pint of ale but kept catching Lenny’s eye.

  “It’s okay,” said Lenny into the phone, meeting Adrian’s eyes and winking. “Your mother explained that to me at the funeral. I hope everything’s okay?”

  Adrian grinned and looked away. He noticed the man he’d pegged as Mr Llewellyn, chatting with his daughter and peering over at them.

  “I see. So listen, the reason I wanted you to contact me is because my father left the family’s Welsh holiday home to me. That’s right, Bryn Bach. Well, it seems your mother is none too pleased about the outcome—”

  Even Adrian could hear the voice at the end of the phone becoming loud. Lenny looked at Adrian and pulled a face, which had Adrian chuckling.

  “The point is, she’s threatening me with solicitors to challenge the will and, from everything I’ve been told, she doesn’t have a hope in hell of winning. She’ll basically end up throwing a lot of money away based on—”

  Lenny stopped again to listen and nodded slowly while taking a sip of his beer.

  “That would be really helpful, Mary. Let me know how you get on. I don’t really want us to go down that route, but I’ve had to deal with disputes all my life, so I have my own legal adviser ready to go.”

  Once again Lenny waited for her to finish talking.

  “Perfect, thanks, Mary. And I didn’t say, but I’m in the process of renovating Bryn Bach, giving the place a new lease of life, so to speak. Once we’re done, and only if you’re happy about it, I would love for you and your husband to come for a house-warming.”

  Lenny smiled into the phone.

  “Absolutely. Just let me know. But it would be great to finally meet you. And one last thing before I go. Do you know if your brother still has keys to Bryn Bach? Or if somebody locally might have a set? I’m only asking because I think someone’s been keeping an eye on the place. Is that right? Okay, I see. Well, I’ll let you go and thanks for your help.”

  When he put the phone back down, and after gulping beer, he filled in the gaps for Adrian.

  “She said she’s not surprised. Her mother is a chronic obsessive. Once she gets her mind set on something, she never lets go. Just hope you never meet her, Ade.”

  “I don’t know. I’d like to see her go a few rounds with my mother," said Adrian, grinning. "Does Mary still see her? Your aunt?”

  “That’s the weird part. They’re no longer on speaking terms. She sees her father still, but refuses to talk to her mother. Never said why, though. Funny how Aunt Millicent never mentioned that little nugget at the funeral. Anyway, she said that although her mother won’t speak to her, she knows somebody who might talk some sense into her. She’s going to try, then get back to me next week.”

  “That’s good. Mary sounds like a grown up. And what was that about Matthew?”

  "She called him hopeless, said if he kept the keys at home he’d never remember where he put them. Apparently he used to leave them down here somewhere, but she has no idea where or who with. And another thing. She said that, to her knowledge, he hasn’t been down here for years. Which is not what he intimated at the solicitors’ office."

  “Interesting. So our intruder could be a local?”

  “Let’s not think about it. Come on. How’s progress going? I can’t wait to see the place.”

  Adrian brought Lenny up to speed with the few things that had happened since their call the night before. Adrian had managed to call the local guttering specialist, who also provided roofing services. So he had asked them to check both and make any necessary repairs when they came on Tuesday. Even over the phone he had been able to tell the man knew his stuff, referencing the photos Adrian had sent him and explaining about the local materials used. Towards the end of his short update, Maggie appeared at their table and crouched down to their eye level.

  “Sorry to interrupt. I was in the kitchen putting your order in when chef says we got a delivery today. Fresh steaks,” said Maggie, her voice lowered. “Wagyu rib-eye. Not on the menu ‘cause he’s only bought a few, see? Thinking about adding them to the menu. And as you two are as good as regulars, he thought you might like first pickings. Don’t get me wrong, the pies are fine, too, but he thought you might like something different. For sides, he’s got French fries or Lyonnaise potatoes, with fried onions, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms. Only if you’re interested.”

  “Now you’re spoiling us,” said Lenny. “And I would love the steak. Cooked medium, with the Lyonnaise. Ade, how about you?”

  “Same. French mustard, too, if you have any.”

  “Same,” said Lenny.

  “You two make me laugh,” said Maggie, chucking genuinely. “You’re like bookends, always ordering the same. I’ll let Chef know. There’s a bit of a lull in the kitchen right now, so it shouldn’t be too long. If any of the nosy buggers comes over and asks, tell them you ordered them through the chef who got them in specially for you.”

  “The friend I had with me asked your chef if he would ever consider serving up steaks,” said Adrian. “On Monday. Is that why—?”

  Mag
gie said nothing, simply smiled conspiratorially before patting her forefinger against her nose a couple of times, and leaving them both laughing.

  “We’re officially locals,” said Lenny.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it? But promise me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “No matter how hungry you are, we skip dessert. I need to get you back to the house.”

  “To show me the progress you’ve made. Yes, I know.”

  “Yeah,” said Adrian, smirking. “That, too.”

  * * * *

  Lenny parked his SUV in the usual spot, hidden beneath the low-hanging tree. By the light of the headlamps, Adrian had begun to explain the changes to the front garden as they drove past the full skip sitting in the lane—now covered with a tarp sheet in case of overnight rain—through the open gate and down the driveway. But the blustery wind buffeting the newly pruned trees and bushes, viewed in the headlight’s glow, did not do the work justice. Eventually he decided Lenny should wait until morning, for the weather to calm and for the clear light of day, to see the transformation for himself.

  As soon as Lenny moved past the threshold with his holdall and closed the front door behind them, Adrian had him pressed up against the wall. Lenny’s bag hit the floor when Adrian brought their mouths together. How had he managed to go his whole life without discovering the magical power of lip-on-lip action? Lenny still tasted of beer and steak, but Adrian focused his mind on the brush of their tongues.

  “Whoa, hold up, Ade,” said Lenny, chuckling but gently urging them apart, scanning something behind Lenny’s head. “What’s the rush? We’ve got all weekend.”

  “You’ve been away for a week. A whole bloody week. And I’m fifty later this year,” said Adrian, trying to pull Lenny’s shirt over his head. “Before long I won’t even be able to get it up. So I’m taking what I need, while I still can.”

  Lenny burst into muffled laughter when Adrian pulled the shirt over his face.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Lenny, giving in and helping Adrian remove his shirt. “You’ve got more energy and stamina and appetite than someone half your age, so quit with the sob story. I haven’t even showered yet—”