‘But they didn’t.’
‘That’s a correct assessment of the situation,’ he agrees. ‘They said they needed more time.’
‘Time for what?’
‘I was unable to obtain that information, Mrs Ashurst.’ Estate agent speak for ‘I’m as clueless as you are.’
‘So when are they going to sign?’
There’s an uncomfortable pause at the other end of the line, then, ‘I’m not in a position to answer that.’
I puff down the phone at him. ‘I don’t need to tell you that I have to get this sorted out as soon as possible.’
‘I understand that,’ Wayne tells me.
‘Get back to me as soon as you can.’ I hang up and check the time. It’s nearly quarter to four already, so I fly out of the office and practically run up towards the Tube as fast as my heels can carry me.
It’s only a few stops but, at this rate, I’m not going to make it in time. Before I go underground, I punch the number of the school into my phone and, when the secretary answers, I explain my predicament. ‘Can someone keep an eye on the children until I get there, please?’
‘I think that the children have already left,’ she says. ‘I’ll dash outside now and call you right back.’
The train rattles through the tunnels while I stand and gnaw my fingernails to the quick. How can I have been so stupid, to have trusted someone else with my children? They’ll be outside in the dark waiting for Kati, terrified when she hasn’t turned up.
As soon as I burst out of the Tube station and am overground again, my phone rings. ‘They’re not here,’ the secretary tells me. ‘I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t see them. I’m sorry, Mrs Ashurst. We’ll keep looking.’
Now my mouth is dry, my heart’s pounding in my chest and, suddenly, I can’t stop the tears from streaming down my face.
I kick off my heels and run down the road as fast as I can, arms pumping, calves screaming in pain. If they’ve decided to walk home by themselves, I might just catch them up. I thought I’d taught them so well. I thought they would have gone back inside to tell one of their teachers that no one had come to collect them. Why have they wandered off into the night alone? I think back to the time they went out onto the moors with Hamish. I hope they haven’t taken this opportunity to try to walk back to Yorkshire.
I’m almost back at the flat and I still haven’t seen them. They should be on this road if they’ve walked home. The lights of Lancaster Court are burning bright ahead of me. Then I see that there’s a light on in our window too. Did I leave it on this morning? My legs sprint faster and I can feel my blood pressure soaring through the roof.
I fumble with my key, then burst through the door. Hamish heralds my arrival with a frantic bark and frenzied bouncing. I fight my way past him.
Falling into the living room, I’m convinced that it will be as empty as the grave and, at the very least, Tom and Jessica will have been abducted by paedophiles on their way back from school. Instead, I find them sprawled on the sofa, amid the unpacked cardboard boxes, watching Happy Feet on the DVD with a glass of milk and a biscuit each. My sobbing is renewed and I rush to them, hugging my children to me.
‘What’s wrong, Mummy?’ Jessica asks, with one eye still on the dancing penguin in the background.
‘Your feet are bleeding,’ Tom tells me as he tries to prise me off him.
I look down to see that my tights are ribboned and my feet are raw.
Behind me a voice says, ‘Hello, Mrs Ashurst. You are home very early.’
I nearly jump out of my skin. ‘What are you doing here?’
Kati stares at me, confused. ‘I thought that was our arrangement. I have collected the children from school.’
‘You did?’
‘Yes.’
‘But I’ve tried to call you all day and have just got your voicemail.’
More confusion. She shrugs. ‘I don’t know why.’
I punch her number into my phone. Kati’s phone doesn’t ring, but the robotic voice answers.
She takes the phone off me and looks at the display. ‘You have one of the numbers wrong, Mrs Ashurst. You have been calling another person.’
‘I have?’
‘Why are you crying?’ my daughter wants to know.
‘Nothing, nothing.’ I cry louder. How can I hold down an executive position when I can’t even get a simple phone number right? ‘I’m being silly.’
Jessica looks at me as if to say that’s nothing new.
‘Shall I phone Guy?’ Tom wants to know, his face anxious. Perhaps my son thinks that I’m going to pot again. Perhaps I am.
Pulling myself together, I wipe my tears away. ‘No. No. I’ve just missed you today. That’s all.’
They both look at me warily.
‘Our new school’s very smelly,’ Jessica says with a pout. ‘I don’t think that I want to go back there tomorrow.’
How can I tell them that I feel the same way about my new job? How can I tell them that my new young, thrusting boss scares the life out of me? How can I tell them that I want to be at home for them, to care for them myself, not to leave them with an Estonian au pair, no matter how reliable she seems to be?
Hamish comes up and pushes his muzzle into my hands, whining as he does. Even the bloody dog looks miserable and I cry even more at the sight of his hideous metal frame poking through his skin. It’s my fault he’s in this state. It’s my fault that my children are at the mercy of strangers while I go out to work.
I’m a crap dog owner and a crap mother. Tears prick my eyes again. And I realise that I’m struggling to do this. I’m struggling to do this alone.
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Amy had called him last night. Completely out of the blue. They hadn’t been in contact since she’d moved back to London and he’d missed her more than he ever could have imagined. His joy at hearing her voice had, however, been short lived. ‘She sounded so miserable on the phone,’ Guy said.
‘So you’re just going to drop everything and go to London to see her?’ Cheryl asked incredulously.
‘Yes,’ Guy replied. Frankly, he was worried sick about Amy despite her reassurances that she was fine. She certainly hadn’t sounded fine. He was glad that she’d phoned him when she was feeling down, but it was torture to be so far away from her and unable to do anything useful to help.
His receptionist rolled her eyes. ‘It must be love.’
‘It must be,’ he agreed.
‘Good for you,’ she said with a smile. ‘About time.’ She leaned on the desk. ‘You realise that there’ll be a lot of very irate clients this weekend.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But it’s about time that I put myself first. Stephen and the guinea pig population of Scarsby can, I’m very sure, manage without me for two days.’
‘Is this really you?’ she teased. ‘Or have you been abducted by aliens and given a brain transplant?’
‘This is really me. The new me.’
‘Then you should be making tracks, otherwise you’ll spend the entire weekend sitting in traffic.’ Cheryl stood up and hugged him. ‘You’d better come back.’
‘I’ll see you on Monday morning,’ Guy assured her. ‘Bright and early.’
His spirit and heart felt light as he jumped into the Range Rover and headed out towards the motorway. It had been years since he’d been back to London. Five years, to be exact. He’d fled from Town after his relationship with Laura had broken up and he’d never looked back since. The big city lights no longer held him in thrall and he wondered if he’d feel differently, now that he was going to see Amy and the children. He couldn’t believe how much he’d missed them all in the time that they’d been away. How on earth was he going to cope with their absence longterm?
It was true that Amy’s phone call had worried him. She’d sounded on the verge of tears and it seemed that going back to her old company wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. The children didn’t like their new school and, according to
Amy, even Hamish wasn’t being Hamish. Only Milly Molly Mandy, it seemed, was unfazed by the upheaval. But that was cats for you every time.
Guy had lain awake all night worrying about her, which prompted his decision to do his knight in shining armour impersonation. Cheryl had been suitably impressed and he only hoped that Amy would feel the same too. She’d certainly sounded relieved when he called her first thing this morning to tell her that he was planning to head straight down to see her.
It was dark now; he’d been sitting in traffic for hours and had long since developed hundred-yard stare. How different this was to pottering round the green lanes of the dales and moors. He’d forgotten that this number of cars actually existed.
Finding Amy’s flat was easy enough, but locating a parking space was less so. Frustratingly, he was still circling her place a quarter of an hour after arriving. He felt like abandoning his vehicle in the middle of the road. How did people do this every day? Then he got lucky and squeezed into a space that he didn’t actually think was big enough to accommodate the Range Rover. He was feeling ragged by the time he pressed her doorbell, but the sound of Hamish’s frenzied barking lifted his flagging energy levels.
The block of flats looked depressingly dreary and it was hard for him to form a picture of Amy and the children having a cosy family life in this bleak place. Then Amy opened the door and her smile nearly broke his heart. She looked drawn, pale – as bad as she had just after Will had died – and he wanted to take her in his arms right there on the doorstep. Instead, he just said, ‘Hi.’
Thankfully, Amy was less reticent. ‘You made it,’ she said as she hugged him. His muscles were tight, tense after the long drive, and her body felt soft and warm and oh-so-good against his. ‘I was so worried that you’d have a terrible journey.’
It had been fairly horrendous but he didn’t want to bother her with such trivia now. ‘It’s good to see you,’ he said, and it was alarming to hear his voice cracking with emotion.
Before she could say anything else, both of the children barrelled out of the living room and flung themselves at him, Jessica jumping into his arms, shouting, ‘Yay!’
‘Your biggest fans have missed you too.’
‘And I’ve missed you all.’
‘We hate London,’ Jessica said candidly. ‘We want to go home.’
And he wanted to take them home – back to Helmshill Grange – but he wondered whether Amy would ever buy into that one.
Chapter One Hundred
Hamish is bringing the place down. ‘Ssh, dog,’ I say, as I open the kitchen door a notch. ‘Calm down, for goodness sake. You’ll get us evicted.’
I hang onto his collar as he bounces out to greet Guy. ‘No pets allowed,’ I tell our newly arrived guest. ‘I can see why now.’
Every wag of Hamish’s powerful tail destroys something – albeit unintentionally. Though I have to say that this is the liveliest I’ve seen our hound since we arrived. If I’m honest, I could say the same for me and the children too.
I’m so glad that I called Guy this week and that there’s no bad feeling between us. I hadn’t expected him to rush down here, but I’m so pleased that he did.
Hamish escapes my clutches and bounds to give Guy his friendliest nose-up-the-bottom doggy version of a hug. Guy bends to fuss him and nearly gets knocked over in the process. Hamish is beside himself with excitement and we should take him out for his walk soon otherwise there’ll be a puddle on my already skanky carpet.
‘Hello, boy,’ Guy says, ruffling his ears. And to me, ‘He’s looking well.’
‘He’s been as miserable as sin since we got here,’ I tell him. As have we all. ‘You’ve certainly perked him up.’ Ditto the rest of us. But I don’t voice that opinion out loud.
It feels so good to see Guy here, if a little bizarre. His waxed jacket and checked shirt look strangely out of place in a Town setting, and he seems even bigger than I remember, in our tiny flat. He looks more stereotypical ‘country vet’ than I’ve ever seen him and, for some reason, that makes me smile.
He runs his hands over Hamish’s flanks. ‘Leg looks like it’s holding up well.’
‘He’s got a slight limp,’ I say, ‘but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him too much.’
‘The fixator might be niggling,’ Guy offers. ‘That’s why he might be a bit down in the dumps.’
‘I think it’s being holed up in this place,’ I say, lowering my voice so the kids can’t hear. ‘And who can blame him?’
Guy looks around him. He says nothing, but I can tell that he agrees with the sentiments.
‘I’ve arranged for Serena to come and watch the children tonight so we can go out,’ I continue. ‘I hope that you’re feeling up to it after the long drive?’
‘Great,’ Guy says. He looks down at his jacket. ‘I have brought some city clothes with me so I won’t embarrass you.’
‘I’d never feel embarrassed with you.’ Then I flush at my forwardness as our eyes meet. ‘I’ll put the kettle on and show you your room.’
‘You’re having my bed,’ Jessica says proudly, making it clear that she was ear-wigging on our conversation.
I’m putting my daughter in with me, so that Guy can have her room. I only hope that my child doesn’t wriggle as much as she usually does or I won’t get a wink of sleep for the next couple of nights. ‘You’ll have to share the bed with a selection of soft toys, I’m afraid.’
‘That’s fine,’ he laughs, and I can’t believe how much I’ve missed that sound.
‘It’s not much,’ I say, as I show him Jessica’s little box room. His face takes on a worried frown.
‘Are you happy here?’ he asks.
‘No,’ I admit. ‘I’m completely miserable.’ Then I say nothing else as those stupid tears threaten to spring into action once again. ‘But it will do for now. I don’t plan on staying here for ever.’ Before I turn on the waterworks, I choke out, ‘I’ll leave you to settle in,’ and beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen.
Swiping Milly Molly Mandy from the work surface, I flick the kettle on, making tea while Guy is busy in the bathroom. He reappears just as I’m putting in the milk. ‘I need to walk Hamish before we go out, if that’s okay,’ I say.
‘I could do with stretching my legs.’
We look at each other over the tops of our steaming mugs. ‘It really is good to see you,’ I tell him quietly. ‘I didn’t expect you to come down so soon.’
‘It took Cheryl by surprise too.’
We laugh at that. ‘You realise that we’ll be the talk of Poppy’s Tea Room next week,’ I warn him. ‘And what they don’t know, they’ll make up.’
‘That’s true enough.’ Guy sips at his hot tea. ‘Alan sends his love.’
‘How is he?’
‘Fine.’ Then he stares directly at me and asks, ‘Missing Helmshill?’
I nod and a terrible sadness creeps over me. ‘More than I’d like to admit.’
Chapter One Hundred and One
Guy had forgotten that restaurants could be so busy. Even though Amy had booked a table, it wasn’t ready for them by the time they arrived and now they sat squashed together on vertiginous stools at a crowded bar while they waited for it to become vacant. His stomach growled with hunger and Guy recalled that it had been a long time since he grabbed a sandwich at one of the motorway service stations.
This was tedious. Every minute, his elbow was jogged or someone trod on his foot. This was also exactly the sort of place that he hated. The sound bounced round the room off the stripped wooden floors, making the noise level so high he was barely able to hear what Amy was saying.
All the women looked sleek and high-maintenance – like Laura. He could just see his ex loving this place. All the men were wearing designer shirts, not tucked in, with skinny jeans. He felt dowdy and old fashioned in his button-down shirt and boot cuts, and previously he’d never even considered himself to be concerned by such things. As he looked round at them he wondered how many of t
hem would be capable of castrating a bad-tempered bull though.
‘This place is very trendy,’ Amy shouted unnecessarily. The only good thing about it being so packed was that it meant she had to put her mouth right close to his ear to be heard.
‘I can see that,’ he shouted back. Guy decided that he didn’t do trendy any more. These days he was built for comfort, peace and quiet. A pint and a chilli con carne at the Helmshill Arms was about his level. This was far too stressful to be considered relaxing. He’d wondered if Amy would have slipped easily back into her London ways, but she seemed ill at ease too. Perhaps having taken the girl out of the city, the city had been taken out of the girl. Guy could only hope so.
‘Someone at work recommended it,’ she yelled. ‘Maybe we should have gone somewhere quieter.’
He was just about to suggest that they cut their losses and leave when a waitress came and told them that their table was ready. Guy helped Amy down from her stool and took her arm as they followed the waitress through the crush.
Before they’d left for the restaurant, they’d found ten minutes to take Hamish for a quick walk round a scruffy little park opposite the flat, sneaking the dog out under a dark blanket. It wasn’t too bad for Hamish at the moment as his exercise needed to be limited, but he’d need more space to run free than this as soon as his leg was fully healed. This was no place for a big dog. No wonder Hamish was miserable.
‘Perhaps we can go up to Hampstead Heath tomorrow,’ Guy suggested as they sat down. Already he was sick of the smell of exhaust fumes and was desperate for some fresh air. He felt claustrophobic, hemmed in. How on earth did people live like this permanently? How had he done it once?
‘That would be nice. I could do with a long walk.’ Amy sighed as she said, ‘This week has been a nightmare.’
‘Sounds like the job isn’t working out, from what you said on the phone.’
Amy shook her head. ‘I’ve got a young boss, who seems keen to change the world. Or rule it,’ she told him. ‘He seems to want me in the office morning, noon and night. The rest of the team are under thirty and have no commitments. I don’t think he understands that I have another life outside of work.’ She sighed wistfully. ‘After spending so much time with the children at Helmshill I’m finding it hard to leave them with a nanny, even though she’s Mary Poppins reincarnated.’ She swigged at her drink.
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