by Tara Ford
Tiff shook her head. “I’ve lost my phone.”
Joanne tutted. “Oh dear me.” She paused thoughtfully. “OK, it’s Greene – with an ‘e’ on the end,” she whispered. “But please don’t mention that I have told you.”
“Oh my God – yes – I remember it now. Yes, of course it’s Greene. Thank you so much. I should have remembered that. My old Greeny, yes, that’s what I call him. I do remember – how silly of me. Thank you so much… Joanne. Is it OK if I call you Joanne?” Tiff flung a hand across the counter, offering a handshake.
Joanne stood back and grinned sheepishly. “Yes, you can, it’s my name after all.”
“When will he be back here?”
“To work, you mean?”
“Yes – I must see him but I just don’t remember his address either.”
Again, Joanne scanned the shop floor like she was on a surveillance assignment of her own. “He lives with his mum. Does that help you to remember?”
Tiff shook her head distressfully. “No… I don’t think so… could you tell me when he’ll be back here again?”
“I can’t I’m afraid – it’s not because I don’t want to – on the contrary. He’s on a gradual-return-to-work scheme at the moment, since both he and his mum have been so very poorly for the past few years. So he’s not here a lot of the time.”
“But he’s worked here for a long time?” Tiff knew she was clutching at straws. “I’m sure he said that…”
“Yes – that’s right. Almost as long as I have.”
“Ah, I remember that now as well. So… over 20 years? Now that is a long, long time.”
Joanne nodded her head and shot an uncertain grin.
“He does live with his mum. I can recall that too…” Tiff peered downwards again. “But… I still can’t remember where he lives.”
“I’m not sure that I can help you any further, sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“It’s Ti… Ti-ti-anna. Yes,” Tiff giggled into her hand, “thank goodness I can remember my own name.”
“OK, Titianna, look, I have an idea. As I can’t give you either of his addresses…”
“Either? Have I… Have I forgotten that as well?”
Joanne stared at her woefully. “His other house, on the outskirts of Hampshire, somewhere?”
Tiff placed three fingers to her lips and feigned deep thought. “Oh, hmm… that’s not…” She screwed her face into a focused frown, “Sycamore Road, is it?” She thumped the palm of her hand against her head. “No – Close – Sycamore Close. Is that the one?”
“I have no idea, to be honest with you. Not unless I look at his file.” Joanne appeared a little disconcerted. “And I really couldn’t do that.”
“No, no, of course not. But I think you have jogged my memory. I’m sure I’ve been there.” Tiff gave a fake grin. “Thank you so much Joanne, you have been very helpful.”
Joanne smiled back. “Phew! That’s a relief. However, I was going to suggest that you give me your number and I’ll get him to give you a call. Does he know?”
“Know what?”
“That you’re pregnant and you have this memory-loss condition?”
“Oh my goodness, no he doesn’t. I… I’m not sure that I want him to know either.” Tiff sighed exaggeratedly. “I was going…”
“But I thought you were meeting him tonight,” said Joanne, shuffling from one foot to the other and looking uncomfortable.
“Err…yes, I was. But… it was to end the relationship actually.”
“Oh, I see. Oh dear, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, regretfully.
“No, please don’t be sorry… it’s just that… well, my mum said it would be best for everyone. And Joanne?”
“Yes?”
“Would you please not tell him that I’ve been here tonight?”
Joanne nodded her head affirmatively. “Yes, if that’s what you want. But…”
“In hindsight… I think he may have jilted me first and that’s why he hasn’t turned up.”
“Oh, I see…”
“Thank you for your help tonight, Joanne. You have helped me far more than you could ever imagine.”
“Good. I’m pleased that I have been able to assist you in some way, Titianna. Please take care of yourself.” Joanne leant over the counter and lowered her voice, “And to be honest with you… I think you would be much better off without him as well.”
“Why do you say that?” Tiff whispered across the Formica counter.
Stretching back to an upright position, Joanne glanced around the shop floor again. “He’s a very odd one, our Jeremy. Very odd. I don’t trust him myself.”
Tiff nodded her head. “Thank you, Joanne, I did think so myself and I’ve never trusted him either. I really must go now. Please don’t mention this to him.”
“I won’t, I can promise you that. Goodbye.”
“Bye and thank you again.”
OMG Joe! You won’t believe it! I now know that Alvin Snodgrass – or Jeremy Greene – is leading a double life. Look up Jeremy Greene (make sure you put an ‘e’ on the end) to see if there is someone of that name in Sycamore Close. And he has worked for Sainsbury’s for more than 20 years! What the hell is he playing at? Hope I haven’t woken you. Speak tomorrow. Tiff xx
“Well? Did you find out anything?”
“Yes. Just about everything I needed to know. We have a very strange neighbour in Sycamore Close and I think I might have figured him out now.”
“I don’t see why it should be of such great concern.” Mum yawned and uncurled herself from the sofa. “Anyway, I’m going to bed now that you’re back, safe and sound.”
“I’ll be up in a minute Mum… and I’ve locked the front door. Goodnight.”
Saw Alvin this morning. In those gold Speedos you were talking about! What an utter dork! He must have travelled back late last night – if that was really him, you saw. Wouldn’t he have to lead a double life if he’s a spy? Will check that name out when I get home tonight. And Cyril’s home, saw him being wheeled around the green by poor old Betty, this morning. He looks a bit rough though. Love you, Joe xxx
“Do you want a lift to work Mum?”
“No thank you. I’ll get the bus as I always do.”
“But you could stay at home for another hour, if I gave you a lift.”
“Yes, that’s quite true but I would much rather go on the bus. I have my pass to use up by the end of the month anyway.” Mum pulled a small plastic wallet from her pocket and waved it in the air.
“Then I will cook tea for us tonight. What do you fancy? I could prepare something.”
It was only Tuesday and Tiff was already bored. She desperately wanted to get home. To find out what was going on in and around Sycamore Close. She was missing Joe and now felt that her leaving him so easily and hastily had been a little senseless. But then again, it was like it was meant to be. After all, she would never have found out about Alvin’s true identity if it hadn’t been for her little outburst and departure from home.
“I have everything prepared. There’s nothing for you to do.” Mum peered at her puzzled. “Why did you come for the whole week? I knew you would soon get bored.”
Tiff shrugged her shoulders. “I just fancied coming to spend some time with you. I’m not bored,” she lied.
“I’ll be home in a few hours. Why don’t you sit in the garden, have some lunch and read a book?”
“Good idea. Except I didn’t bring any books with me.”
“I have the whole collection of Agatha Christie’s novels now. Would you like to read one of those?”
Tiff smiled and nodded her head enthusiastically. “Yes please – I quite fancy a bit of crime.”
“In my room – help yourself. Oh… and Tiffany…”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t turn the corners of the…”
“Yes, I know Mum. Don’t dog-ear them, right?”
“Right. See you this afternoon.”
Chap
ter 25
Two Agatha Christie books – read. A catch-up with her dad – done. Several lovingly long phone calls to Joe – sorted and back to normal. Daily check-ins as to Alvin’s whereabouts – one successful (he was out jogging again), three unsuccessful (Joe hadn’t seen him and was not going to knock his door again). A stay with the parents – done. Bonding time with Mum – done.
Tiff packed her few belongings into the holdall and merrily trotted down the stairs with it. “Right, I’m all done, time to set off home.”
Her dad and mum stood by the front door beaming. “We will be down to see you very soon Tiffany,” said Dad. “Sooner than you think.”
Mum smiled, smugly. “Yes, you just wait and see. I’ll soon be flying around all over the place.”
“That’s so good to hear, Mum. I cannot wait for you both to see the house.” Tiff flung her arms round her dad’s neck and squeezed him tightly. “Sorry I haven’t seen you for very long, Dad, but I really need to get home early this weekend.”
Dad patted her gently on the back. “Not to worry. We will see you again and like your mother says, it will be soon.”
Tiff pecked her dad’s cheek and then moved over to her mum. “Bye – and thank you Mum. Those books were really good reads and thank you for having me.”
“And thank you for believing in me and for our little chats.” Mum smirked.
“Oh?” said Dad, eyeing Tiff and Mum suspiciously.
“We’ve had some chats about the counselling Mum’s going to be getting,” said Tiff. “And I know that she will be able to do it.”
Mum held her head high and nodded proudly.
Tiff kissed her mum’s cheek and hugged her. “Thank you again – both of you. I’ll see you soon.” She turned towards the door and picked up her holdall.
“Let us know when you get home,” said Mum.
“Yes, of course I will. Bye – love you both loads.”
Sycamore Close was just as quiet as it usually was when Tiff pulled into the lay-by. A fluttery sensation bubbled and fizzed in her stomach as she stepped out of the car. She had missed Joe a lot more than she thought she would. As she walked around the left side of the green, she peered across at Alvin’s house. Was he home? What would she say to him when she saw him next? Did he find out about her visit to Sainsbury’s that evening? She hoped he hadn’t.
She opened the front door and walked into the cool interior. It smelt like home. An aroma of sweet and musky aftershave wafted around as she went through to the dining room. She peered out of the patio doors and there he was. Gorgeously tanned, wearing a pair of blue shorts and a white vest-style t-shirt, Joe was at the end of the garden, leaning over a repaired fence, his hair spiky and damp.
Tiff placed her holdall on the table, took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. She opened the patio door and stopped as Joe turned around.
“Babe.” His whole expression lifted. He quickly walked across the patchy, muddy grass and held his arms out as he approached her.
Tiff couldn’t help but beam as he came closer. A surge of excitement rushed through her.
He whipped her up into his arms and held the back of her head in one hand as he kissed her lips feverishly. “God, I’ve missed you, babe,” he said, brushing his lips over hers.
“Missed you too.” She pulled away from his mouth and hugged his head tightly.
Lowering her to the ground, Joe kept her in an embrace and rocked her from side to side. “No, you really don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” He stopped still and peered down at her. “I’m taking you out tonight. Just the two of us – for a romantic meal.”
“Sounds nice.”
“But for now, I bet you need a cuppa.”
“I do. Traffic was terrible past Reading.” Tiff stepped back indoors to let Joe through. “I see you’ve done the fence. The hedge trimmings have gone as well.”
Joe met her eyes. “Yes, I did the fence just this morning. Wanted to get it done before you came home.”
Tiff nodded her head. “Is it… the one from Georgie?”
Joe walked over to the kettle and flicked it on. “Yes, she’s been pestering me all week about it, so I thought I’d better get it done. I also had a bonfire last night.” He laughed. “You missed the toasted marshmallows – they were delicious.”
Tiff said nothing but nodded her head and forced a smile.
“So…” Joe sounded edgy, “how are your mum and dad?”
“They’re OK.” She grinned falsely. Just the mention of Georgie’s name had flared up her hatred for the woman. She couldn’t allow it to have a noticeable effect. Not again. “I bet Georgie was pleased to see the fence go, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, well I had said I’d get it last Sunday, but…” Joe broke off.
“How’s she been pestering you?” Tiff did her utmost to sound nonchalant. “Coming round? Or calling you?”
Joe grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and turned away to prepare the drinks. “Err… she just asked each time I saw her.”
It still hurt. It still grated on her. Tiff couldn’t stop the hateful, jealous feelings. She had to hide it though. She could not risk getting into another argument with Joe. Yet he appeared to be just as nervous about any conversation which involved Georgie, as he was before she left. Maybe it was Tiff who was making him nervous and not just because it was Georgie they were talking about.
“Did you see her quite a bit then,” Tiff feigned laughter. “I mean, more than that elusive Alvin-Jeremy freak.”
Joe turned and smiled. “No, I only saw her… in passing really.”
“So she didn’t share marshmallows with you last night?” Tiff laughed her comment off as if she was jesting.
“No, she didn’t. I was completely on my own. Thinking about you.” Joe gave a wavering smile. “And I didn’t really have marshmallows anyway.”
Tiff nodded. “I’m joking with you. So, you’ve hardly seen Alvin – or should I say, Jeremy.”
“No, so what the bloody hell is going on there?” he replied in a more relaxed tone.
“I really don’t know. I’m wondering what he might say to me if I see him.”
Joe laughed. “I couldn’t believe the story you came out with, babe. Pregnant?”
“I just hope he hasn’t found out about it.” Tiff paused thoughtfully. “Is my craft room OK?”
Joe gave a quizzical stare. “I fed and watered it, if that’s what you mean?”
Tiff giggled. “So you’ve been in there?”
“No, I haven’t. Not at all. Why?”
“Just wondered. You know what I’m like. Guess I just missed it while I was away.”
“Well it’s still there if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Good. I was having visions that you might have turned it into a golf trophy room or something like that.”
“No, nothing like that.”
Tiff forced a smile to hide the relief she was feeling. “I was going to ask you what you think I should say to Alvin when I see him. Should I come straight out with it and call him Jeremy?”
Joe’s face turned serious. “No, I don’t think so, that could get a little awkward. I’d say that you should ignore him. Let him come to you if he wants to talk.” He carried two mugs of tea over to the table and sat down. “Anyway, enough of him, let’s talk about us… and our home… and how much I’ve missed you.”
“OK,” Tiff smiled. “Go ahead.”
Joe really was a smooth talker and even before they’d finished their tea, he’d whisked her up the stairs to the bedroom. Passionate and lingering, their togetherness was mind-blowingly clear. There was no mistaking his deeply-affectionate love for Tiff. Why had she ever doubted it?
Tiptoeing out of the room, she closed the bedroom door behind her, leaving Joe to have an afternoon nap. He always fell asleep straight after their lovemaking, whereas, she was all-fired-up and ready to go and clean the whole house or dig the garden up. If it had been night time, she would have quietly r
ead pages and pages of her latest romantic-comedy novel while he slept beside her, a faint humming of a snore resonating across the quilt from him.
She opened the craft room door and stepped inside. It still smelt of fresh paint and there were still boxes and odd bits of crafting materials strewn across the desk, by the window. It didn’t look like Joe had been in the room at all. So it seemed that he’d been telling the truth on that count. Certainly nothing seemed to have been touched or moved since the last time she was there. She’d missed the room and she’d been curious all week long as to what might be going on in the deceptively picturesque view. Moving across to the window, she peered out to the sunlit fields and the gently moving trees. There were no gold flashes, flickering past the trunks of the trees. No copulation in the copse. No sparsely clad women walking their dogs.
Instinctively, she reached into the drawer and took the binoculars from the back. She put them up to her eyes and scanned the landscape. She had to be sure. Just to check. A couple of horses grazed leisurely in a field on the right, and to the left, she could just see the area where she had last spotted Georgie. There was something red on the ground, several metres away. Long and red. Tiff twisted the focus wheel, trying to zoom in on the red… dog lead. Uncannily like the lead that Alvin bought a couple of weeks ago. Tiff froze as it dawned on her. She’d seen Georgie with a collar around her neck and now the discarded lead. What the hell were they playing at?
Moving along the tree-lined paths, she turned the focus wheel as she scanned the area, closer to the backs of the gardens. Turning to the left, she could see the back of Georgie’s fence. She carried on further, into Georgie’s garden. There was the cement mixer. Georgie’s recliner and the small table… and…
Tiff froze in horror and gasped. Peering straight up at her, Georgie was standing at the back of her garden, hands on her hips and her head tilted upwards. She was frowning. Their eyes met for a brief second, although it was through the binoculars. Tiff snatched herself away from the window and held her breath. Georgie had seen her with the binoculars, scouring the fields and paths… and her garden.