by Heidi Swain
‘Let’s just forget it and catch up when I get back, okay?’ he said, squeezing me tight. ‘I’m pretty certain I’ll be in need of a good moan about Charlie and the farm again by then.’
‘All right,’ I agreed, squeezing him back. ‘We’ll do that.’
‘And in the meantime,’ he said, letting me go so he could look down at me, ‘don’t get any more ideas in your head about trying to mend me, all right?’
‘All right,’ I smiled.
‘I’ve got enough on my plate without adding well-meaning women with a penchant for feather boas into the mix.’ He laughed as he went back to yanking at the gate.
‘I think you’ll find,’ I called after him as he finally pulled it open and walked away, ‘you were the one wearing the feather boa!’
He waved but didn’t look back and it was only then I noticed Sam and Hope standing outside the pub. I had no idea what they had made of my parting shot, but Sam turned away and headed back inside with a face like thunder.
Chapter 17
I didn’t even make it as far as the bar on Saturday evening before Hope appeared at my elbow and ushered me into a shady corner.
‘So,’ she said, her dark eyes shining, ‘are we all set? I know I thought it was crazy to begin with, but Sam’s moods are driving me to distraction and I’m willing to try anything now.’
Knowing that she was now fully on board with the idea made me feel even worse about disappointing her.
‘I’m really sorry, Hope,’ I whispered, keeping an eye on the bar where Sam was pulling a pint and wearing an expression that could have curdled milk, ‘but it’s not happening.’
‘Joe’s not coming?’
I shook my head.
‘Damn,’ she groaned, no longer bothering to keep quiet. ‘Maybe you should have invited him to the cottage instead of the pub.’
‘What good would that have been when we needed him here?’
‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged, ‘maybe you could have softened him up a bit at your place and encouraged him to come here after.’
I wasn’t sure what her idea of ‘softening him up’ entailed and I didn’t ask, but I was pretty sure you would have to be more than friends to do it.
‘Or perhaps you could have asked him instead of me?’ I suggested, thinking that would have been the easier option.
Her face was a picture, and not one I was sure I wanted to see.
‘Me?’ she squeaked, before throwing a cautionary glance over her shoulder. ‘What difference would that have made?’
All the difference in the world if the evidence she and Joe had unwittingly presented me with so far was any sort of benchmark and I couldn’t help thinking that it was.
All the colour might have drained from Joe’s face the night he spotted her in the pub, but there was no denying the loving look in his eyes, or the way he had subsequently flushed when I told him that Hope had thought that the plan for tonight was a good one.
It was more than obvious to me that the pair still felt some connection and that was even without taking into account Hope’s wistful tone when she told me all about her first love down at the beach huts or the cosy chat in the lane that I had witnessed.
‘Well,’ I said, stating the obvious because she seemed to have missed it, ‘having known Joe for so long and been in a relationship with him, you might have known how to put the idea of coming here to him in a more appealing way.’
‘Hardly,’ she said, now avoiding my eye. ‘And besides, I knew him years ago. I have no idea who he is now.’
‘Did you not get any sort of clue when you spoke to him yesterday?’
The way she shuffled from one foot to the other and focused on fiddling with a loose thread on her top, rather than answer me, confirmed what I suspected. She and Joe might have broken up after the crash and she might now be in a relationship with Sam, but there was definitely unfinished business between the pair. Hope might have said she had no idea who Joe was now, but I would have bet good money on her being willing to spend more time chatting to him to find out.
‘Anyway,’ I said, coming to the point because I felt bad for bringing up a moment she would clearly rather keep to herself, ‘it wouldn’t have made any difference, because he’s had to leave. There’s nothing we could have done to get him here.’
‘Leave?’ She said, sounding aghast as her gaze snapped back up to my face. ‘You mean he’s gone?’
Was it not for my concern about how, given her dramatic reaction, this particular love triangle had clear potential to develop, I would have been enthralled. By the looks of it, there was a real-life soap opera about to play out in front of my eyes, but feeling the way I did about all three members of the cast, I wished I could switch channels to something more soothing.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘did he not say?’ She ignored the question. ‘But don’t panic. He’s going to be back in a few days.’
‘I wasn’t panicking,’ she said defensively. ‘Good riddance.’
She wasn’t very convincing, this female lead in the love triangle.
‘So, you wouldn’t have minded if he’d gone for good then?’
‘Of course, I wouldn’t,’ she said, making a marginally better attempt at it. ‘It would have been a relief. There’s nothing I want more than to be able to get back to normal again.’
I was about to ask her to expand on that thought but didn’t get the chance.
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Sam unexpectedly hissed.
His voice was unnervingly close to my ear and my hand flew up to my chest.
‘Jesus!’ I snapped. ‘Where the hell did you spring from? You scared the life out of me!’
He looked somewhat taken aback by my reaction but not as surprised as I’d been by his silent approach and badly timed interruption.
‘The pair of you look positively furtive hidden here in the dark,’ he said accusingly, stepping around to look at us, his green eyes darting from me to Hope and back again. ‘What are you up to?’ he suspiciously demanded.
Fortunately, Hope was more on the ball than I was and ready with a quick answer.
‘We were just working on our strategy and tactics for thrashing you at Scrabble,’ she said without missing a beat.
Sam shook his head.
‘If the lad who’s supposed to be covering for me behind the bar doesn’t turn up,’ he grumbled, ‘that won’t be an issue because I won’t get the chance to play. Not that either of you could thrash me of course.’
‘Oh, is that right?’ I tutted, recovering enough to join in.
Hope looked at me and winked and I knew we had got away with it, but only just.
*
Before long, the pub had filled up nicely and I found myself teamed at the Scrabble board with George.
‘I usually play with my sister,’ he told me as we picked out our first seven letters and I tried not to show my disappointment with what I had selected, ‘but she’s gone to the prize bingo in the next village with a friend from the WI.’
He didn’t sound particularly impressed to be left high and dry by his regular gaming partner, but then given the way Sam had shouted at Skipper, I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d opted not to come to the pub at all.
‘There’s a big cash pot tonight apparently,’ he expanded, ‘and Gladys is usually pretty lucky so it’ll probably be worth the trip.’
‘You didn’t fancy it yourself then, George?’ I asked.
‘I did think about it,’ he said, leaning down to stroke Skipper’s head, ‘but Sam called round this afternoon to apologize for shouting about the water bowl incident so I thought I’d head here as usual instead.’
I was pleased that Sam wasn’t so caught up in his own head at the moment that he hadn’t realized that he’d upset one of his most regular and loyal customers. It said a lot about him that he had bothered to make amends.
‘Well, I’m pleased you did decide to come,’ I smiled at George. ‘Because I didn’t much fancy havi
ng to play opposite him myself.’
‘That’s as maybe,’ George sympathetically carried on, keeping his voice low so no one else could hear, ‘but we all know the real reason why he’s in such a bad mood these days. Not that we’d dare to mention it in front of him, of course.’
He cast a quick glance over at the bar where Sam was putting the relief lad who had finally turned up through his paces. Neither of them looked particularly happy so I daresay Sam was bending the guy’s ear about being so late, which I supposed was fair enough when he should have been at his post at least an hour ago.
‘Obviously I wasn’t a Wynmouth regular when the crash happened,’ George carried on, pulling my attention back to him, ‘but it doesn’t take a genius to understand that something like that has a lifelong impact. And I’m not just talking about Sam’s leg.’
‘I know what you mean,’ I said, leaning further over the table. ‘His head’s suffering as much as his body right now, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly is, my dear,’ George agreed, laying down his first tiles and scoring seventy-five speedy points with ‘squeeze’.
How he’d managed to draw those letters and focus on putting them together so quickly given the conversation we were having was beyond me and, of course, his score was doubled because he’d won the chance to start the game off. I had the feeling I was in for a masterclass in the art of pulling words out a hat or, in this case, a little cotton drawstring bag.
‘Oh, well done, George,’ I said sportingly as I scribbled down his score.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ he beamed, diving back into the bag to replenish his tiles.
He looked at me again once he’d finished arranging them, no doubt in some sort of impressive order.
‘I understand you and the chap responsible for our landlord’s loss of humour have struck up a bit of a friendship,’ he said casually.
‘That’s right.’
‘Only natural I suppose,’ he sniffed. ‘Two new folk in the village being drawn to one another.’
‘Joe’s hardly new to Wynmouth,’ I pointed out. ‘His family have been here longer than most.’
‘True,’ nodded George. ‘And they’re not exactly having an easy time of it either, are they?’
‘No,’ I said, grateful that he sounded sympathetic. ‘They’re not.’
‘Anyway,’ he said, rubbing his hands together, ‘that’s enough of your distraction tactics. You’re trying to stop me from focusing by talking.’
‘You’re the one chatting,’ I laughed.
‘Well, whatever,’ he smiled, nodding at my tiles, ‘let’s see what you’ve got.’
Just as I had thought, I did come in for an intellectual thrashing, but in my defence, I had a lot on my mind and with George continuing the conversation, I found it hard to concentrate. At least, that was what I kept telling myself as he relentlessly laid down one triple word score after another.
‘That was a good game, Tess,’ he smiled, once we had finished, ‘but I can’t help thinking you were a little distracted this evening. Either that, or you thought you’d let the old-timer win this one.’
‘Oh, definitely the second option,’ I laughed. ‘I just didn’t want to show you up, George.’
He laughed along with me and gave me a kiss on the cheek before picking up Skipper’s lead from where it had been secured around his chair leg, just to be on the safe side, and wandering off to say his goodbyes.
‘Where’s Hope?’ I asked Sam, who was stacking the rest of the game boxes in a pile on the bottom of the bookshelf.
I had felt a little light-headed when I stood up and realized that throughout the course of the evening, I had drunk more wine than I usually would and, because I’d had no reason to move, I hadn’t noticed the impact. Perhaps that was another reason why I had struggled to stay focused on those tiles?
‘She went a while ago,’ Sam told me, straightening back up and wincing as he did so, ‘she wasn’t feeling too well.’
I watched him rub his leg, massaging the area around his knee in particular. I don’t even think he knew he was doing it.
‘I’ll finish putting the last of these away if you like,’ I offered.
‘No, it’s all right. I can manage,’ he said, but he let me carry on nonetheless.
‘I hope she isn’t coming down with anything,’ I said, as I tried to focus on the task I had volunteered for.
I soon found that the boxes didn’t want to stack in as orderly a fashion for me as they had for Sam and I had to pull them all out and start again.
‘Are you all right?’ Sam asked.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘it’s just a bit of a tight fit. Did Hope say what was wrong?’
‘Just a headache,’ he said. ‘But a bit of a thumper and it was rowdy in here tonight so I don’t think that helped.’
From what I had heard, there had been more than one heated conversation across the tables but for the most part they had been good-natured. It was good to see that the competitive spirit was alive and kicking in the usually sleepy village, but obviously not if you had a sore head.
‘Sophie came to pick her up,’ Sam told me. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Tess? You’re making a right bloody hash of that. There were only three more to stack when I was down there and now there’s seven!’
I couldn’t hold in the giggle which bubbled up when I looked at the mess I had made and before I knew it, I had fallen back on my heels with a bump and was sitting on the pub floor.
‘Are you drunk?’ Sam asked, sounding amused.
‘No,’ I said, scrabbling around and eventually grabbing his outstretched hand so he could pull me to my feet, ‘just a tiny bit tipsy. Definitely not drunk.’
As I came to stand upright, the whole world had shifted on its axis, not just the bar, and it felt like I was on the deck of a ship. A ship that was leaning first to the left and then to the right. I closed my eyes, which I quickly gathered was not a good idea, and then gasped when I felt Sam’s hands come to rest on my waist. My senses must have been heightened because I had my eyes shut and therefore the thrilling shiver which ran through me was more than justified. I slowly opened one eye and then the other.
‘You aren’t going to throw up, are you?’ he frowned.
It was hardly a romantic question, even if he did look concerned, but the close proximity made it feel like an intimate moment. I looked up into his tanned face, taking in the dark blonde stubble, the lines around his eyes which crinkled when he smiled and the unruly sun-bleached hair which topped the vision off.
‘Of course not,’ I smiled goofily up at him, ‘like I said, I’m just a bit tipsy.’
‘Well, that’s all right then,’ he said, releasing me and stepping away, ‘because I have a “clear your own vom” policy here at the Smuggler’s.’
Definitely not a romantic moment or a question asked in concern.
‘And I’ve just had this carpet cleaned,’ he added for good measure, leaving me in no doubt where his fears lay. He was undeniably thinking of his décor.
There were only a couple of regulars left now, they were all ensconced in the snug and didn’t offer to help, so I carried on with the tidying up. That said, I was probably more of a hindrance, but Sam bore my efforts with good grace and I didn’t smash anything or spill too much.
‘I think that’s the lot,’ I said, looking around, but taking care not to turn my head too fast.
I had drunk a pint of water but I wasn’t feeling much better for it. I thought I might have to break out the paracetamol before I went to sleep, just to be on the safe side.
‘Thanks, Tess,’ said Sam, ‘I appreciate the help.’
‘My pleasure,’ I hiccupped. ‘You know I can’t resist helping out if I can.’
Given how quickly I had become involved in the goings-on in the café, pub and village in general, no one could be in any doubt of that. The thought of having to pack up and leave made me suddenly feel even more nauseous than my hangover was going to.
‘Do you think you might then?’ he frowned, as well he might, given that I had already jumped from visiting for a couple of weeks to a couple of months.
‘Perhaps,’ I shrugged. ‘I’m not sure if I could, to be honest, but right now, I don’t much like the thought of having an end date to my time in Wynmouth.’
‘You’re enjoying being here that much, are you?’
‘Yes,’ I swallowed, ‘yes, I am.’
‘Is that because of . . .’ he began, but his words tailed off and he turned away.
‘Is that because of what?’ I asked him.
‘Never mind,’ he said, sounding gruff again. ‘Forget it.’
I would have bet good money that he was going to include Joe’s name in whatever it was he had almost just said.
‘Look,’ he said, turning back again, ‘I know I’m probably being paranoid, but you and Hope . . .’
‘What about us?’
‘You weren’t scheming something earlier, were you?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like anything,’ he said, coming to stand in front of me, much the same as he had before, although not quite as close this time. ‘I don’t want either of you interfering.’
‘But I’m always interfering,’ I reminded him with a smile. ‘I interfered practically the moment I arrived and got you to lay on the bank holiday entertainment and then I stuck my oar in again so you’d get the beach clean going and the solstice party up and running. Interfering is what I’m known for around here. I’ve even put my two pennies’ worth in down at Sophie’s café!’
My intention in reeling everything off had been to make him laugh, or at least smile, but the frown he was wearing was going nowhere.
‘That’s as maybe,’ he said seriously, ‘but you know what I’m really talking about, don’t you? And I can’t cope with you, or Hope, interfering in that.’
‘I see.’
‘It’s painful enough that it’s all been stirred up again,’ he said, ‘so I don’t want either of you making it worse because you’ve got it into your heads that you can somehow make it better. Whatever it is that the pair of you might be thinking you can do, I want you to forget it, okay?’