New Arrivals at Hedgehog Hollow

by Jessica Redland

  ‘How did your mum take the news about your dad and Beth?’

  ‘Not good.’ My stomach churned and I shuddered as I pictured Mum that evening. ‘They’d been together since they were thirteen and they were happy. And then, just like that, it was all over and she discovered that the past seven years had been a lie. Something like that was never going to be easy to deal with.’

  Not easy at all. I’d never forgive the pair of them for what happened next.

  5

  Samantha

  The hurt that Paul and Beth had caused Josh was obvious from every single word, every frown, every sigh. And no wonder. What they’d done was despicable. He had every right to still feel anger and confusion, especially as it had hurt Connie too so he’d have needed to be there for his mum while reeling from the impact on himself.

  ‘Thanks for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy for you to talk about it.’

  ‘I don’t want either of them back in my life. I can’t do it.’

  ‘Do you think Beth will come back?’

  ‘She’s bound to. It’s the way she works and she’ll try to drag you into it all. I’m really sorry.’

  ‘Hey, don’t apologise. It’s not your fault. And I can hardly complain about your ex turning up when mine’s part of the family.’

  Josh smiled ruefully. ‘I still think James is a tosser for how he treated you but you’d be proud of me because I had a civil conversation with him at the press launch yesterday. I forgot to mention it.’

  I raised my eyebrows, surprised. They’d only seen each other a few times but hadn’t gone beyond awkwardly exchanging pleasantries so this was welcome news. Things were uncomfortable enough in my family without adding bad feeling between Josh and James into the mix. ‘I am proud of you. Thank you. What did you talk about?’

  ‘Football, beer and women.’

  I laughed as I lightly nudged him. ‘And what did you really talk about?’

  ‘Safe stuff. The hedgehogs, the farm and Samuel.’

  ‘Any mention of the cancer?’ James had been diagnosed with testicular cancer while Chloe was pregnant but the last I’d heard from her was that the removal of one testicle seemed to have caught it.

  ‘He said he was tired but I wasn’t sure if that was because of the cancer or Samuel.’

  ‘Probably both. I need to have a proper catch-up with Chloe about it at some point. I’d ring James direct but she’d probably accuse me of being after her husband again.’ An expression I couldn’t read flickered across Josh’s face. Surely not jealousy? ‘Please tell me you wouldn’t be worried about that.’

  He shook his head vigorously. ‘God, no! I trust you completely.’

  ‘Then what was that look?’

  He grimaced. ‘It’s was the mention of Chloe. I’m finding it hard to warm to her and I don’t think she likes me either. Urgh. I sound like a five-year-old.’

  I gave him a reassuring smile. ‘It’s okay. You’re not the first to say that about her. She’s guarded around people she doesn’t know which tends to come across as being distant and disinterested.’

  ‘She wasn’t very distant or disinterested when she met James,’ he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘Exactly the opposite.’

  The fact that I could laugh about it showed how far I’d come. Even though James had broken my heart by choosing Chloe and she’d then stamped on it when she cut me off after their wedding, I’d go through it all again if it meant I could have my current life with Josh, the farm and the rescue centre. To find a rainbow, you’ve got to have some rain and I’d certainly experienced one heck of a storm before I’d found mine.

  6

  Josh

  Mum used to joke that I could sleep standing up in the middle of a thunderstorm and she was right. Any time, any place. The only time I’d ever struggled was after the incident. Until now. I plumped my pillows for what felt like the millionth time and sighed as I lay back down, staring into the darkness. Another thing you’ve messed up. Cheers for that, Beth.

  Her appearance this afternoon had stirred up a load of unwelcome memories about our two years together. Our lie of a relationship. So many regrets. So many moments when I could have – and should have – walked away.

  This coming August would mark four years since that fateful Friday morning when I found her crying in the staffroom. It wasn’t unusual to find a staff member in tears. We saved animals but we had to euthanise too and that could be tough on everyone. I assumed that was the case with Beth and said something to that effect but she blushed, said it wasn’t work-related and apologised that she’d been unprofessional by bringing her home-life into work.

  She didn’t volunteer any details so I could have left it there and things might have been so different but I had to do it. I had to try to be the caring, understanding boss and remind her that my door was open if she ever needed to talk – just like Granddad would have done.

  After the weekend, she turned up at my office and said she’d like to take me up on my offer. She claimed to be uncomfortable discussing it at work in case anyone overheard. Another moment where things could have been different if I’d had the sense to close the door and remind her that the walls were extra thick but, instead, I found myself suggesting lunch at The Owl and Pussycat Tearoom in Reddfield – one of Mum’s favourite cafés. The tables were well spread out so, if she wanted privacy, she could have it. Even as she returned to the reception, I knew I’d made a mistake, but I didn’t change the plan and I knew why. I liked her. A lot. Finding her in tears had cranked that attraction up a notch. I wanted to be the one to comfort her and tell her things would be all right. I wanted to be the one to make them all right.

  In the tearoom, the waitress taking our order had barely stepped away from the table before Beth blurted out the reason for her distress.

  ‘It’s a man. You’d probably already guessed that. He’s a bit older than me and we’ve been together for five years. The problem is that he keeps lying to me.’

  ‘About anything in particular?’

  She fixed her eyes on mine. ‘About leaving his wife.’

  ‘He’s married?’ I was disappointed. Beth seemed so sweet and kind. I’d never have had her pinned as ‘the other woman’. She mustn’t have known he was married and was in too deep by the time she found out.

  Beth twiddled with the end of her plait. ‘I knew he was married when I met him…’

  More disappointment. Why hadn’t she walked away?

  ‘… but I was only seventeen at the time,’ she continued. ‘It was just meant to be a bit of harmless fun.’

  Her eyes were big and sad and my disappointment faded. It hadn’t been her fault. She’d been young and flattered by the attention of an older man. He’d no doubt fed her some bullshit about his wife not understanding him or the marriage being on the rocks. I knew the sort. Wanker.

  ‘You can’t control who you fall in love with, can you?’ she asked, her voice pleading with me to understand.

  ‘I suppose not.’ I hadn’t a clue. I’d never actually fallen in love. Not even close. I wasn’t going to admit to Beth that my longest-lasting relationship had been four months.

  ‘Anyway, he kept promising me he’d leave his wife for me. Said they didn’t get on anymore and the marriage had been over for a long time. So I waited and waited and waited some more. Five years is a long time to keep stringing someone along, isn’t it?’

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I wouldn’t have waited five days, let alone five years. Although I wouldn’t have gone out with someone married in the first place, even for a bit of ‘harmless fun’ as she called it because it wasn’t harmless, was it? Someone always got hurt.

  ‘I’d had enough so I gave him an ultimatum – one week to end it with his wife or we were over for good. That took us to the end of last week and he…’ Her voice broke and tears ran down her cheeks.

  ‘He didn’t leave his wife?’ I suggested gently, offering her a paper napkin.

 
She nodded as she dabbed her eyes. ‘He says he loves us both but that doesn’t make sense. How can you love two people at the same time? And how can he possibly still love her? They live separate lives. They barely speak to each other.’

  I shrugged, aware that I was being no help whatsoever. I had no experience of the situation, no platitudes I could offer her.

  ‘I think it’s because of his son,’ she wailed.

  ‘He has kids too?’ Another flicker of disappointment.

  ‘Just the one although he’s adamant that the son isn’t the reason he’s never ended it.’

  ‘I suppose it’s an added complication,’ I offered feebly.

  ‘You probably think I’m a horrible person,’ she said, her voice full of defeat as her shoulders slumped. ‘And you’d be right. I am a horrible person. I did a bad thing by getting involved with him and this is my punishment. I deserve it. I should have walked away as soon as he told me he was married and not believed all the crap he fed me about it being over.’

  The need to make it better for her took hold. ‘It’s not your fault. As you said, you were only seventeen at the time and you weren’t the one who was married so you weren’t doing anything wrong. It’s his fault. He should have known better and he shouldn’t have strung you along for five years if he had no intention of leaving his wife.’

  She placed her hand over mine and my pulse raced.

  ‘You’d never treat anyone like that, would you?’ She gently stroked her thumb across the back of my hand, sending a zip of electricity up my arm.

  ‘Erm… I’m not a convincing liar. It’s much easier to stick to the truth. If I was seeing someone then met someone else I liked, I’d take that as a signal that my current relationship wasn’t working and I’d end that first.’

  She still didn’t move her hand. ‘And is your current relationship working?’ she asked, her voice low and seductive.

  ‘I’m not in one.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘I’d have thought a hottie like you would have been snapped up ages ago.’

  Had she really just called me a ‘hottie’? Did she seriously think of me that way? It was flattering. She was gorgeous and sweet but anything happening between us was out of the question. Rebound relationships were never a good idea and I was her boss. We had to work together and how awkward would that be if she returned to her married man or my initial attraction faded as usual and I walked away when I realised it wasn’t going anywhere?

  So I shrugged, trying not to focus on her compliment or the feel of her hand over mine. ‘I’ve not met the right person yet. Maybe one day.’

  Beth gazed at me through lowered lashes. ‘Maybe one day soon. You never know, you could already have met the right person and just not realised it yet.’

  The air crackled with sexual tension and, for the first time ever, I felt out of my depth, not knowing what to say or do.

  Our lunch arrived, she removed her hand, the conversation shifted onto ‘safe’ subjects like the food and work, and I returned to my comfort zone. Beth was chatty but not flirty and she kept her hands to herself for the rest of lunch. I felt a frisson of disappointment.

  We’d travelled in separate cars to avoid any speculation as to why we were heading out for lunch together.

  ‘I’ll give you a couple of minutes’ head start,’ I said as she unlocked her car.

  She smiled. ‘Thanks for listening. And thanks for not judging me.’

  ‘It’s not my place to judge. What you do outside of work is your business.’

  She stood on her tiptoes and placed a light kiss on my cheek. ‘You could always make it your business,’ she whispered into my ear. Then she got in her car and drove off, leaving me standing in the market square, still feeling her lips against my skin and her warm breath on my neck and imagining her taking it further. Bad idea. Very bad.

  I should have kept my distance but, across the week, I found excuses to venture into reception more often than usual and was rewarded each time with a suggestive look or a flirtatious smile. It felt exciting. Risky. Dangerous even.

  At home time on Friday, she knocked on my office door. ‘Have you got much more work to do?’ she asked, eyeing the overflowing in-tray on my desk.

  ‘A couple of hours. I’m behind with my paperwork.’ Because I’d spent too much time thinking about her instead of focusing. ‘At least I don’t have a long commute.’

  She laughed. ‘Thirty seconds?’

  ‘If that. You off home, then?’

  ‘Yeah, not that there’s anything to rush home for. Boring weekend all alone.’ She gave me a meaningful look and it would have been so easy to ask if she wanted to catch a film or go for a drink but I couldn’t go there. Too messy.

  I should have returned to my work but instead asked the question that had been prodding me all week. ‘Your married man hasn’t left his wife then?’

  Tears glistened in her eyes. ‘No. Still with her so still finished with me.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I genuinely was – not because it was over but because I didn’t like to think of her being upset.

  ‘My fault for believing his lies.’ She sighed. ‘I’d better leave you to it. I just wanted to say thanks for listening on Monday.’

  ‘That’s okay. Any time.’

  ‘Monday lunchtime again? Same place?’

  ‘Yeah, great.’ I’d walked into that one.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Beth all weekend, despite working on the Saturday, despite being called out several times over the weekend. I could try to convince myself that we were merely two colleagues grabbing lunch together but that was bollocks. I knew exactly where that second trip to The Owl and Pussycat Tearoom was leading. And I knew I wanted that.

  Monday lunchtimes at the tearoom became a weekly thing. The more I got to know her, the deeper I fell – something that had never happened before. She was great to talk to – witty, smart, interesting. I tried to find faults but, back then, I couldn’t. My protest voice became weaker. So what if she was on the rebound? Wasn’t everyone? So what if I had a relationship with one of my staff? It wasn’t ideal but it wasn’t illegal or unethical.

  Lunchtimes were too short and I longed for more time with Beth. I’d never struggled to ask women out before but I couldn’t seem to find the words to ask her. Why was it so different? Probably because I hadn’t been bothered about the answer in the past but, with her, I cared. Too much. Insecurities gripped me. Was she only being friendly because I was her boss? Was she only being tactile because I’d been nice to her when she’d needed a friend? Was I no better than her married creep for wanting more than friendship?

  After four Monday lunches, she suggested meeting at the tearoom on Friday evening so we could talk for longer. She said it so casually, as though we were merely friends meeting for drinks. It didn’t sound like a date. I’d misread the signs. I’d imagined the chemistry. I’d created something that wasn’t there. Yet from the outset, it felt like a date. She’d changed her clothes, applied darker make-up, released her hair from its usual plait so it tumbled down her back in soft waves. She was stunning.

  The ambiance in the tearoom was completely different with subdued lighting, candles on the tables, mood music. Beth shuffled her chair closer and my breath caught as her leg pressed against mine. She ramped up the flirting, was more tactile than before, peppered the conversation with compliments. Friends didn’t do that. She had to want more.

  Nerves gripped me as the meal drew to a close. I imagined asking her out and pictured that dazzling smile of hers as she said yes. I imagined kissing her goodnight. I imagined a hell of a lot more and was thankful the bill arrived to re-focus my mind.

  The evening was chilly when we stepped outside so I helped her into her coat. She turned and kissed me on the cheek and whispered, ‘Thank you’. She kissed me again, a bit nearer my mouth. There was a moment of electricity between us before our lips met. The kiss was hot and full of pent-up longing. My hands were in her hair, hers running down my
back as she pulled me closer. Suddenly she pulled away and stepped back, breathing rapidly.

  Bathed in the golden glow of the streetlight, she looked so beautiful but her brow was creased with confusion. My stomach sank. I had misread the signs after all. I’d gone too far. Better recover it. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have d—’

  She pressed her fingers to my lips, silencing the words. ‘It’s me. I’m sorry. It’s just that I was with him for five years. It’s strange kissing someone else.’ She stroked her hand across my cheek, frowning. ‘Good strange, though.’ She kissed me again and this time she didn’t suddenly pull away.

  She said she wanted to take things slowly, worried about the impact on us both of her coming out of a long-term relationship: I really loved him and I’m scared of getting hurt again / What if I’m on the rebound and end up hurting you? / If he finally gets his act together and leaves his wife, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist him. I told her I understood. That was true. I told her I liked her but it was early days and I’d get over it if she went back to him. Not so true.

  She was worried about people finding out at work: What if they accuse me of getting favourable treatment from the boss? / What if they think I’m trying to sleep my way into a promotion? The second excuse was laughable because we weren’t sleeping together and she’d made it clear that sex was off the cards for a long time. But I understood her point and, as I didn’t want any speculation or gossip either, I was more than happy to keep our relationship under wraps.

  ‘When I say I don’t want anyone at work to know, I mean your dad too,’ she said. There was no reason for that to ring alarm bells. He was my business partner and her joint boss. If she wanted nobody at work to know about us, it was logical that ‘nobody’ included him. It made no odds to me. I wasn’t in the habit of taking women home to meet my parents. Over the years, they’d met a few girlfriends who I’d been seeing around my birthday or a family event but most were never introduced. I saw no point in them meeting someone I wasn’t serious about. Hiding Beth was not unusual.