by C. K. Martin
‘Well only time will tell on that one. Molasses.’
‘What?’ Jo nearly dropped her tea, fear that he was having a stroke or late onset Tourette’s taking hold.
‘Twenty-one down. Molasses. Told you it was on the tip of my tongue.’ He snatched the pencil from the table and proceeded to fill in the boxes. ‘Now, off to bed with you. Big day tomorrow.’
‘You’re mad,’ Jo said with a chuckle, leaning down and placing a kiss on the top of his head. His once brown hair was now brassy grey, but he still had more of it than most. ‘See you in the morning. Don’t forget to shout me if you need anything.’
‘I’ll be fine. Goodnight Love. See you in the morning before you go.’ He gave her the briefest smile and then returned to the paper. She could see he still had two more clues to discover. That would be enough to see him through his cup of tea and off to bed.
She climbed the stairs, her legs like lead. She’d dressed warmly, but standing on the cold pavement took its toll regardless. Besides which, she was sure she had pulled a muscle in her back getting the wheelchair off the curb one time. She’d misjudged the drop and she’d fought to stop the wheelchair sliding out of her grip and over the toes of some poor unsuspecting stranger.
Her father’s words echoed in her head as she entered the bedroom that had been her childhood sanctuary. Through the teenage years, all those fears about what he would say if he knew she was attracted to women were concealed in this room. So many tears cried. First loves. Broken hearts. Trying to pretend she was straight when she wasn’t. It had felt like the only choice she had at the time. University had changed everything for her. She had finally broken free of the expectations she felt her parents had forced upon her. If they had guessed back then it was true, they had never said anything. But she could also see now that the weight of expectation had been one she had placed on her own shoulders. They had never insisted on anything from her, other than she be truthful, kind and happy. But those things didn’t make a good recipe for teenage angst, so she had created another scenario in her head instead.
The boxes were still stacked in one corner of the room. It seemed silly to unpack them now, this close to Christmas. It made much more sense to simply wait and tidy them away into their new homes alongside any gifts she might receive. The decision absolved her of any responsibility as she flopped herself down onto the bed and took a sip of the brandy-laced tea. It made her wince. It had none of the gentle winter softness of the mulled wine she’d tasted earlier. Instead, it was harsh on the back of her throat. She added a bottle of the decent stuff to her mental list of presents to buy for her father. If he was going to insist on having alcohol in the house for her to steal, it might as well taste half-decent.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kayleigh’s eyes felt as though someone had tried to glue them shut in the night while she slept. As she let herself in through the front door of the bookstore and flicked on the lights, all she could think about was getting her hands on another cup of coffee.
She thanked gods she wasn’t sure she believed in anymore that Emily had gone to sleep quickly after her breakdown. The excitement of seeing the big man himself, followed by the crushing fear that he might not find her again this year, had led to her crashing out before the tears had finished drying. Her heaving sobs had turned into deep breaths and Kayleigh had, after what felt like a lifetime, found the courage to ease her arm out from underneath the small sleeping form and sneak back downstairs.
The cold tea had mocked her. As if chamomile was the thing she needed in that moment. No, she had needed wine, and as she glugged down the first glass, the tears had begun to fall for her too.
Experience should have taught her not to drink on the night of the anniversary, not to excess at least. The whole bottle hadn’t disappeared, but she’d had more than her customary two glasses. The dehydration, combined with the floods of tears had left her with a thick tongue and a banging head when the alarm had jolted her from sleep.
Even Emily had moved around quietly. She could sense the caution in her steps. Clearly Aunty Webby had looked under the weather. Today was not the day to open the shop later, but she was seriously considering taking an hour to herself in the storeroom and either drinking coffee until the caffeine flooded her veins or just closing her eyes and getting some extra sleep.
Her hands shook as she spooned instant coffee into her mug, spilling half of it onto the work surface. ‘Shit,’ she swore, throwing the spoon into the mug. How could she possibly face the day when spilling coffee could reduce her to such a broken state? She needed more than the three hours of sleep she had managed to get. Three hours, caught in snatches. She had tossed and turned for hours, watching the numbers change on the clock next to her bed. Sleep felt like stolen moments from the night, filled with dreams she did not want to be dreaming. Her sister, trying to tell her something. Her sister, lying there dead in the morgue. Emily, in the hospital, lost in amongst the tubes and wires that would keep her alive over the next few days and ultimately save one of her limbs but not the other.
Every moment she hadn’t wanted to relive had come to visit her that night. No wonder she felt like death itself.
Emily hadn’t raised the prospect of the name change again that morning. Despite lying awake most of the night, thinking about the long term implications of a question asked with such innocence, she still didn’t know what the right thing to do was. She supposed, if she thought about it, the question may have always come. The timing had been unfortunate, but for a child’s simple grasp on what family meant, it was a logical natural step. It was her own fear that had kept her from thinking about such complex issues.
A bang on the front door made her jump. The jitters were getting the better of her this morning. She looked at her watch. She wasn’t supposed to be open for another forty-five minutes. Whoever it was would just have to go away and come back later. She was too tired to deal with anything else today.
As she took a sip on the boiling coffee, the bang came again, more insistent this time. Irritation flared into annoyance and she slammed the cup down on the surface, prepared to go and give whoever it was a piece of her mind. She stormed through the shop, past the darkness of the Christmas tree. Just looking at it was enough to push her over the edge. This year was the worst year since the one that that had turned her life upside down. This pain was different but it was insistent. ‘We’re not open,’ she yelled as she walked to the door. The banging continued regardless. She threw back the latch and yanked the door open. An icy blast hit her from the street. ‘Who—’
‘Thank god for that, I never thought you were going to open it.’ The woman in front of her stepped through the doorway, letting herself in as Kayleigh stared at her brazen entry. ‘It’s brass monkey’s out there.’
‘I’m sorry, do I know you?’ Kayleigh looked the woman up and down. She was cute, in a soft butch sort of way. Bundled up in a thick winter hoodie, she stood there in cargo pants and workboots carrying what looked like, to Kayleigh’s untrained eye, a toolbox.
‘Not at all. I don’t think.’ The woman leaned in closer and looked her up and down. ‘No, definitely not. I’d remember you. I’m Maddy. Friend of Jo’s.’
‘Jo? What has she got to do with this?’
‘Pretty much everything from what I’ve heard. You must be Kayleigh, right?’ She extended her hand and shook Kayleigh’s arm vigorously. In her fragile state, she worried it was going to be pulled right off. ‘Any chance of a cuppa?’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but I have no idea what’s going on.’
‘Not a lot if I don’t get a decent brew inside me. I’m here to sort the electrics. We’re going to get this show back on the road.’
‘I…’ Words failed. Kayleigh felt the world go wobbly at the edge of her vision. For a moment, she thought that the complete lethargy from lack of sleep was setting in. She was going insane. Hallucinating. That seemed to be the most likely explanation for all this.
‘You might
want to shut that door too. You’re letting all the heat out.’
‘Yes.’ Kayleigh shut the door without thinking, mesmerised by the saviour in front of her. No, really. It must be a dream. ‘Jo asked you to come here?’
‘She did. Luckily for her, I had a day off today. I’m supposed to be out doing my Christmas shopping.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I did it all online back in September. I just needed a good excuse to have the day off and the boss is a softie when it comes to things like that. I was planning to go down the pub for the afternoon, but Jo pulled in a favour.’
‘She made you come here?’
‘That’s a bit strong. Jo doesn’t make me do anything. But we’ve known each other for long enough now that we owe each other a few. She reminded me of that time she had to come and bail me out.’ The horror must have shown on Kayleigh’s face, because she hastily continued. ‘Don’t get any wrong ideas. It has only happened once and it wasn’t my fault. I was being a knight in shining armour. It just so happens that I was the only one who saw it that way and my damsel in distress didn’t actually need rescuing. Is the kettle in the back? I can make it myself if you want?’
‘Sorry. I’m just…surprised. I thought that…’
‘I get it, most women are surprised when they find me standing there on their doorstep. And you seem nice enough and everything, but can you stop gawping and get me that cuppa? These electrics aren’t going to sort themselves and Jo will be here at five to sign them off.’
Kayleigh watched as Jo headed towards the back of the shop and into the darkness. She’d managed to steer clear of a nervous breakdown after Debra died, but perhaps it had just been delayed? Maybe this was what it felt like. Not depression or feelings of suicide. Perhaps, for her, madness took the form of an imaginary friend who came to solve her problems in exchange for tea. The tea bit seemed quite important to her.
The thought of tea made her feet move at last and she followed the woman towards the back of the room. ‘Milk and sugar?’ she asked far too politely, as if the vicar had popped round unexpectedly on Sunday after church. She prayed that Maddy would say no to the sugar, as she didn’t have any in the back room anyway.
‘Just milk please. Make it a strong one.’
‘Coming right up.’ Kayleigh retreated to the makeshift kitchen at the back of the store and focused on her breathing while the kettle boiled. Somewhere, the faint glimmer of hope was starting to appear. If this wasn’t a nervous breakdown, then there was a possibility that things would be okay after all.
‘Madness,’ came a voice behind her, making her jump. She turned around to see Maddy, hands on hips, looking around the room. Her lips continued to move as she mentally calculated something. It was awe-inspiring to witness. Kayleigh might not have dated anyone in years, but she could spot a one woman wrecking ball when she saw one. ‘How long have you had this place?’ Maddy asked when Kayleigh handed her a steaming mug of tea.
‘A few years.’
‘I’m surprised this didn’t come up in the paperwork.’
‘I inherited it. Any paperwork was simply around the transition of assets.’
‘But you knew about this, right? You must have.’ Maddy began to drink her tea. Apparently boiling water was not something she allowed to stop her.
‘I knew that it was a bit dodgy. It was on my list to get sorted, but I just never got round to it.’ The more she said it to people, the more it sounded like a lame excuse. It was the kind of phrase that people used for everything they just didn’t care about, from mowing the lawns to joining the gym. If she backed the statement up with ‘looking after Emily’ it somehow felt wrong, even if it was the truth. She was martyring them both and she was determined never to do that.
‘That’s the problem with these old buildings. You never know what you’re going to find when you start digging around. Bits get done here and there and then you have to put them right once the building regs come in. Then you have to change them when someone else decides that the regs need to be updated. Bane of my life.’
‘So can it be done?’
‘It can, but that’s not what you’re asking me is it?’
‘Can you do it before Jo has to sign it off?’
‘Not properly. But I can do something that would work. Unfortunately, I think your old man, or whoever did the job in the first place, got it done by one of his mates.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Let me guess. He was the kind of bloke who wanted the lowest possible price and the minimum you could get away with. Wanted to feel like he was getting a bargain?’
‘Now you mention it…’ Kayleigh felt the warmth creeping over her skin.
‘Thought so. People like him are easy to fool. You offer a discount on a job that’s easier for you anyway, but for not much extra effort you could have done it properly. You do a bit less work, make it sound like a major thing, knock a bit off the price, people feel happy. Trust me, I saw all sorts of things when I was training.’
‘This sounds terrible, but I have no actual idea what is going on.’
‘Oh. Yes. Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget people don’t know what I’m talking about.’ Maddy drained her mug and put it back down. ‘Come with me. I’ll need another one of those before I start, but then I’ll have to turn the electrics off. It’s not going to feel like a good day for you, trade wise.’
‘What?’ Today was one of the busiest days. She couldn’t close up shop for the entire day, not even to save her charity event. A whole day’s business gone would put her in the hole. ‘What are you going to do? I mean, I appreciate your help, coming here to do this for me, but you have to understand. This shop is my entire livelihood. I have a…a child I need to look after.’
‘Jo mentioned something about that, yes. Okay, I get that this is a big thing. How about I talk you through what I need to do and you can decide whether or not it’s worth it.’
‘Thank you.’ Kayleigh felt a rush of relief. Maddy was truly a godsend. She reminded herself not to feel too happy until she’d heard what she had to say.
‘Good. Follow me.’ Maddy grabbed her by the hand and tugged her out of the makeshift kitchen and back into the main store. She banged the wall where the alcove began. ‘This used to be the outside wall of the main building. Which means everything on this side,’ she waved her arm expansively in the direction of the store, ‘runs off one fuse box. With me so far?’
‘I think so.’
‘Everything the other side, that runs off a different fuse box. If I had to guess, they used to be entirely separate buildings, but without much of a gap between them. A lot of houses around here were built that way. It’s the curse of an old village. Houses went up where they went up and if they were built good enough to last, they stuck around and got modernised and joined. Some of those jobs were done well, some were done badly. This one, in case you hadn’t guessed it already, wasn’t done well.’
‘But why?’
‘No idea. But the good news for you is that I can make this into two separate jobs. The one that you have to do to sweeten up Jo, and the one you need to do so you don’t burn the chuffing place down at some point.’
‘Is it really that bad?’ Kayleigh was horrified. She didn’t want to bring Emily into a death trap. Or herself, now she thought about it. There was nothing quite as terrifying to a book store owner as the thought of fire.
‘No, but you don’t strike me as the kind of woman who’ll actually get it done unless I scare you a little bit.’
‘That’s unfair.’
‘And yet here we are, having this conversation because you didn’t get round to doing it in the first place.’
‘You make a good point,’ Kayleigh felt thoroughly chastised.
‘But there is absolutely no reason why this single room can’t go onto the main fuse box. Unless I uncover something really scary once I get going. The point is, I’m going to have to turn it off while I get it done.’
‘The power to the whole store?’
‘Yes.’
‘Could you just leave me the lights or something?’
‘It doesn’t quite work that way.’
‘Really? Is there no other option?’
‘The other option is that I do a rewire properly to the other half of the building, but that won’t be completed by the time you need it to be. It’s your choice really.’
‘Shit. Let me think about this.’
‘Okay. You can make me another drink while you do. But don’t take too long. It’s going to be tight if we start right away. The longer you leave it, the less chance I have of actually being able to pull this Houdini trick off.’
Kayleigh walked to the kitchen, feeling the spark of hope she’d allowed to foster wither and die. This was impossible. How could she run a shop all day without power? It was stupid to even consider it. There were so many things that relied on it. She’d never really considered before that she depended up electricity to make it all work. She wasn’t quite ready for an impromptu trip back to the dark ages.
The lights. They were the main thing. The bay windows were lovely and did let in some light, but at this time of year, it was barely enough to light the room more than a few feet back. She couldn’t run the bookstore without adequate lighting. She didn’t know much about health and safety regulations, but it seemed that would just be swapping one hazard for another. Not to mention a terrible customer experience. If people couldn’t see what they were looking for then they wouldn’t buy anything anyway. She might as well shut the shop down for the day.
Candles? No. Only a desperate fool would fill a bookstore full of careless and busy people with candles. She dismissed the idea before it could really take hold.
Candles were madness, but batteries weren’t. A memory came back to her. A single overnight camping trip she had taken with Emily before they’d both decided that it was not for them. It had seemed a good idea at the time and she had wanted Emily to experience all the same things the other children did, but the midnight trip to the toilet block had turned out to be more than either of them could take. They had packed up the following day and cut the trip short. Kayleigh had made her a makeshift tent in the living room and they had watched TV and ate ice cream from under it. The experience was a significantly less stressful one.