Green Beans and Summer Dreams

by Catherine Ferguson

  I’ve invited Mrs P, but she can’t come because she’s under strict instructions to take it easy for a while. This, of course, is driving her nuts as she’s not exactly couch potato material. But she’s trying to obey orders.

  She came home last week and I went along to see her. When I saw the lists she’d been making of jobs to do and people to see, making up for lost time, I was very reassured. Mrs P is back and she’s raring to go!

  As Jess and I work, the talk turns to Wesley.

  ‘I spoke to him yesterday,’ Jess tells me. ‘He says he’s fine. And I’m sure he will be. It will just take time, that’s all.’

  I glance at her eyes, puffy beneath her make-up. ‘And what about you?’

  ‘Me?’ she says perkily, cutting a tray of chocolate brownie into squares. ‘Oh, I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me.’

  ‘And have you spoken to Luke?’

  She shakes her head. ‘I sent him an email telling him the wedding was off but that he hadn’t to assume that he was the reason. I mean, he is, obviously. But it will be a long time before I’m ready for a relationship again.’

  I feel a pang of sympathy for Luke.

  ‘And have you heard back?’

  ‘No. Not a thing,’ she says, opening the fridge and hunting for space to store a tray of homemade sausage rolls. ‘By the way, I bumped into Peter the other day and I invited him along tonight.’ She looks at me nervously. ‘Was that OK?’

  ‘Did you check with Anna?’

  She nods. ‘Of course. She seemed fine about it.’

  I grin. ‘Did you really bump into him? Or are you scheming to get them back together?’

  She smiles mysteriously. ‘As if.’

  Anna herself arrives like a whirlwind soon after six.

  She glances around the hallway, which is lit by masses of twinkling blue fairy lights, courtesy of a seventy percent off sale at the local garden centre. ‘Wow, you’ve done a great job here.’ She gives me a sly sideways glance. ‘I expect you’re hoping the lovely Dan will be here.’

  I grin at them and for once, I don’t deny it. It’s time they knew. I’m in love – properly in love this time – and I don’t care who knows about it.

  Jess and I disappear upstairs to get ready and when we come back down, Anna is flaked out in Midge’s chair, her legs flung over the arm, rattling the ice cubes in a vodka and tonic.

  I grin at her. ‘Nice boots.’

  ‘Yeah, they’re good, aren’t they?’ she says waving one about so I can see it from all angles. ‘You don’t look bad yourself out of your shed gear.’

  ‘Gee, thanks.’

  ‘When was the last time we saw you in a body-hugging lime green dress and sky-scraper heels? With hair blow-dried to within an inch of its life? You’ve got it going on, sister, let me tell you!’

  I feel ridiculously pleased. And more than a little terrified. Because in less than an hour, there’s the possibility I might see Dan.

  A bunch of people from Anna’s work are the first to arrive.

  They’re in good form, having spent the past hour in the pub. So in between ferrying drinks to and fro and being introduced to new people and their other halves, the party is suddenly in full swing.

  I chatter and laugh with the rest of them, but all the time I’m acutely tuned in to everything that is happening in the hall.

  I’m in the sitting room handing out homemade cheese straws when Jess comes over to tell me Peter has arrived.

  I whip round. ‘Any sign of a girlfriend?’

  She shakes her head. ‘I’ll go and say hello. You warn Anna.’

  I find Anna in the kitchen, loading a plate with mini muffins from a Tupperware container.

  ‘Is he alone?’ she asks off-handedly.

  ‘Yes. He’s in the hall talking to Jess.’

  She places two more muffins on the plate, clips the lid back on the box and plonks the loaded plate on the table. ‘Back in a sec,’ she mutters and rushes from the room. Through the open door, I see a pair of long, slim booted legs disappearing up the stairs.

  Jess helps me fill some wine glasses and sets them on a tray. ‘No sign of Dan, then?’

  I shake my head. And at that moment, the doorbell rings.

  I make an anxious face at Jess, fluff my hair and head for the front door.

  On the way through, I catch sight of Anna and Peter in the hallway. He’s standing solemnly against the wall, staring at Anna as she talks at him. Her hands are flying all over the place.

  When I pull open the door, my heart sinks a little as a trio of Jess’s friends from work greet me with broad smiles. I’m passing back through the hallway with an armful of perfumed coats and wraps when I hear Anna say, ‘OK, but surely you have time for a drink? For old time’s sake?’

  I glance at Peter to catch his response. He looks down at his shoes. There’s something about the way he’s holding his pint glass across his chest – almost defensive – that makes me uneasy.

  He has the look of someone who’s been cornered.

  Oh hell, poor Anna.

  I put away the coats then head to the kitchen for a top-up. I’m drinking too much but I don’t care. If it calms the nerves, it’s worth the hangover.

  By ten o’clock, though, I’m starting to droop. Being on high alert for the doorbell is frankly exhausting and every time the door opens and it’s not Dan, my spirits sink a little more.

  A little later, I’m sitting on the bottom stair with Jess, trying to convince her she is not a bad person simply because, loosely speaking, she jilted Wesley, when suddenly she looks over my shoulder and opens her mouth in a silent ‘Oh!’

  ‘Fucking hell,’ she whispers. ‘What’s he doing here?’

  My heart lurches in my chest and I spin round.

  My eyes flit over the guests in the hallway, looking for ‘dark-haired male, very tall’. But no match found.

  Jess’s face is ghostly white.

  I grab her arm just as a voice I vaguely recognise says, ‘I’m looking for Izzy, mate. Is she around?’

  There’s a definite hint of Down Under in the accent.

  Luke?

  ‘I have to go,’ Jess whispers. ‘I absolutely can’t see him.’ And before I can stop her she’s on her feet, darting towards the kitchen. It takes my alcohol-soaked brain a second or two to realise she’s heading for the back door. She’s grabbed her bag but forgotten her jacket, so I snatch it up and blunder outside after her.

  A second later, the car starts and she hares out of the entrance, narrowly missing the gatepost.

  Luke is at my shoulder. ‘Has she gone?’

  ‘I think so.’

  He rubs his face wearily. ‘Hey, sorry for gate-crashing,’ he says. ‘Eloise said you were having a party so I came hoping Jess might talk to me – on neutral ground, you know? Stupid, really.’

  My heart goes out to him. He looks deathly pale beneath the tan.

  He turns to go and just then, some guy I’ve never met – probably one of Anna’s work colleagues – taps me on the shoulder and asks if I’ve got a cloth because his girlfriend is throwing up in the downstairs loo.

  And when I turn back, Luke has gone.

  I gather some cleaning stuff then track down Anna in the hallway to tell her about Luke. She’s leaning against the wall, arms folded, staring with a mutinous expression at Peter, who’s standing on a stool trying to fix the fairy lights.

  If looks could kill, I think.

  Peter beckons me over and requests a particular type of screwdriver. I dash to the kitchen and rummage through the messy drawer that contains all the odd things you don’t want to throw away because they might come in handy one day.

  I have no idea what a cross thread screwdriver is.

  When I return to the hallway, Anna seems to be fighting back tears.

  ‘Screwdriver?’ Peter asks and I bolt forward with my small collection. He leans down, selects the one he needs and says, ‘Thanks, hon,’ with a wink.

  I g
lance guiltily at Anna. Why can’t he be nice to her? It’s as if he’s deliberately ignoring her. And as far as I can tell, her only crime has been to ask him to have a drink with her.

  ‘Come and help me in the kitchen,’ I murmur in her ear.

  This party is a disaster.

  So much for cheering us all up.

  Anna is in bits, I dread to think how Jess is feeling and Dan hasn’t even bothered to come.

  The doorbell goes once more but I ignore it. Someone else can answer it. I’ve had quite enough for one night.

  I put the kettle on to make coffee and sink down at the kitchen table opposite a dejected Anna and start to tell her about Jess, hoping to divert her from her own worries.

  I’m pouring boiling water into our mugs when a voice says, ‘Coffee? Can’t take the pace, then?’

  I spin round.

  Dan is standing in the doorway.

  My heart leaps in my chest and starts thundering at a rare old rate. I manage a smile. ‘Hi. Glad you could make it.’

  His gaze is fixed on me. ‘Wow. You look – incredible.’ He glances at Anna. ‘Both of you.’

  I blush to the roots of my blow-dry. He looks heart-stoppingly gorgeous himself in dark jeans and a pale blue linen shirt.

  ‘Thanks.’ I pull myself upwards and inwards for a sleeker outline in my tight green dress. ‘Would you like a coffee? Or wine? Or vodka? Or whiskey?’

  Or anything at all, really. Just say the word …

  I’m beaming from ear to ear now. I can’t help it.

  He came after all!

  I needn’t have worried.

  ‘Red wine, please.’ He perches on the edge of the table. ‘I’m sorry to arrive so late. But I really needed to see you.’

  I pour his wine with a trembling hand and when I hold it out to him, our fingers brush together, sending a delicious tingle through my whole body.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ I beam. ‘Better late than never. Sausage roll?’

  He shakes his head.

  ‘Homemade cheese straw? Freshly made this morning by my personal baker, Jess, who unfortunately you’ve just missed. Are you sure? Go on! Try one!’

  I’m chattering too much, mostly because I’m so relieved he came, but also because I want him to relax. His eyes are too serious. He looks exhausted. Not in a party mood at all, now I come to think of it.

  Then someone calls my name, loudly to be heard above the general chatter.

  ‘Excuse me a minute. More arrivals, I assume. Back in a sec.’ I whisk out, suddenly high on life. I can’t believe he actually came! After I’d all but given up on him! OMG, OMG, OMG!

  I arrive in the hall to find the door open and the dark shape of someone standing outside. I go to welcome them.

  Then I freeze as Jamie steps forward.

  He looks pale and uncertain. And I notice he’s wearing a crumpled, unironed shirt beneath his coat. Not like the Jamie I knew at all.

  ‘Look, I realise you’re having a party but can I talk to you?’ he says.

  He holds out a small package wrapped in glossy red paper. ‘Happy birthday, by the way.’

  I stare at the gift in bewilderment. What’s going on? Why is he here? Not just to bring me a birthday present, surely?

  Finally, I find my voice. ‘What do you want, Jamie?’

  He sighs. Then he runs a hand agitatedly through his hair. ‘Look, Izzy, I made a mistake walking out on you. The biggest mistake of my life, actually. I’ve regretted it ever since and I want to make it up to you. If you’ll let me.’

  I’m aware my mouth is open but I can’t formulate the words.

  He’s always regretted leaving me? He wants me back? Is he for real?

  I recall his drunken phone call to me the night Jess turned up at my door. He was obviously planning it then. But it’s been over a year since he moved out.

  Why has he left it so long before turning up here?

  And then the penny drops. ‘You’ve split up with Emma.’

  He nods wearily. ‘I moved out a few weeks ago. But that’s got nothing to do with me wanting to see you again.’

  I give a bitter laugh. ‘No, of course not, Jamie. It has nothing to do with the fact that Emma has chucked you out and you’ve found yourself alone and lonely, and looking for somewhere to live! Honestly, do you think I was born yesterday?’

  He looks away and I feel a twinge of guilt. If his relationship has ended, he’ll be feeling like shit. Perhaps I should go easy on him.

  ‘Look, Jamie, I’m sorry but a lot has happened in a year. I’ve built up a successful business and I’ve moved on. And the thing is, I could never, ever go back…’

  As I say it, I realise – with a little shock – that it’s all true. Life might be a struggle financially just now, but I will get there. And Jamie can only ever be part of my past.

  ‘I’ll help you with the business,’ he’s saying. ‘Let’s face it, you’re pretty hopeless with figures so I could manage the financial side.’

  I grit my teeth, remembering how he always had to belittle me and take charge, whatever was happening. Well, not any more!

  ‘I don’t need your help, Jamie,’ I tell him angrily. ‘You’re probably not going to believe this but guess what? I can do it all by myself.’

  He holds out his arms. ‘But we were a great team, you and I. Say you’ll at least give it a go? And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll walk away, no harm done.’ He looks beyond me at the party guests milling around. ‘Come on. How about a drink?’

  I glare at him. ‘You never did listen to me, did you? It was all about you, never about my needs.’

  ‘What?’ He looks at me as if I’ve grown an extra head. ‘That’s absolute rubbish. Why do you always have to be so bloody dramatic, Isobel? Now, get me a drink and let’s talk about it.’

  Resentment flares inside me.

  I remember the day he walked out. How utterly devastated I was. How he blamed me for not being reasonable and understanding that he and Emma were written in the stars. How he left me to pay the mortgage alone, not giving a thought to how I’d manage.

  ‘Jamie?’ I beam at him.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s never, ever going to happen. Now fuck off.’

  I step back, shut the door in his face and lean against it, feeling slightly sick but very triumphant.

  Saying it out loud has brought it home to me just how far I’ve come in the past year. I’ve set up a business that my customers value. And I’ve proved I really can do it all by myself.

  Walking back into the kitchen, I decide I’m going to continue to be brave and pin Dan down to a date.

  Something Midge used to say zips through my head.

  If you don’t ask, you never get!

  Anna makes an excuse and leaves us alone together.

  The perfect opportunity.

  I dive straight in. ‘You know you asked me if I wanted to try that new Thai restaurant? Well, I was thinking about it and—’

  ‘Izzy?’

  ‘How about we go tomorrow night? Or if you’re busy, maybe next weekend?’

  He puts a hand on my arm.

  ‘Izzy, listen.’

  I stare at him. Why is he looking so serious? He’s putting me off my stride.

  ‘I needed to see you tonight so I could tell you something,’ he says slowly, increasing the pressure on my arm. ‘Face to face.’

  A feeling of foreboding starts to trickle through me.

  Tell me what?

  He sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

  ‘The thing is, Monique and I have decided to give it another go.’

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I wake next morning with a hangover the size of Manhattan.

  Blundering into the bathroom, I drink two glasses of water with some painkillers then slink back to bed. Luckily, it’s Sunday today. So no deliveries to make.

  Lying there, I start to recall scenes from the night before. Anna upset with Peter. Jess rushing off into the night. Jam
ie turning up at the door and me telling him to fuck off.

  And the thing I’d like to wipe from my head completely. Dan telling me he’s getting back with Monique.

  My stomach shifts and I bolt from the bed into the bathroom, hanging over the sink, only just making it in time.

  Shivering, I wash my face then crawl back under the covers, remembering the conversation I’d had with Dan when everyone else had gone home.

  We sat in the living room, him in an armchair, me stretched out on the sofa.

  He’d said it was important I understood his reasons. So I listened, even though I knew it would make no difference to my situation. I was in love with Dan but he was getting back with Monique. Nothing he could tell me would change the facts or alleviate my devastation.

  But I let him talk.

  ‘For a long time, Monique and I were happy,’ he began, his eyes appearing almost black in the subtle lamp light. ‘Then we had Zak and everything changed. She loves that kid to bits and I know she tried really hard to be the best mum she could. But some women just aren’t naturally maternal. I could see that she was struggling.

  ‘And I could also see how it was eating her up inside, giving up her career to look after this little scrap who depended on her so completely. She had this huge guilt. She felt she’d failed as a mother but there was nothing she could do to make it better. In the end, when he was three, we decided she should go back to work and I’d look after Zak.

  ‘But it was a huge wrench for Zak.’ He swallowed, the pain from that time etched across his face. ‘The poor little guy couldn’t understand why she wasn’t there the way she used to be. The nature of her work meant she was forever on the move and it made sense for her to live in London. I tried to fill her place as best I could.’

  There was a lump in my throat.

  ‘You’re a great dad,’ I whispered.

  He attempted a smile. ‘I do my best but it never seems to be quite enough.’

  ‘So what happened? When Monique left?’

  ‘She’d visit at the weekend, spend a few precious hours with Zak, then depart on the Sunday night, leaving me to cope with a bewildered kid who thought it was his fault that his mum didn’t want to stay with him.’