Blackberry Way (Tales From Appleyard Book 4)

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Blackberry Way (Tales From Appleyard Book 4) Page 5

by Emma Davies


  Freya’s heart went out to Laura. There was nothing simple about a death, particularly of a young man with his whole life ahead of him. And the legacy that death had left behind was far from simple either, the proof was in her arms. She straightened up.

  ‘Then we must do something to change your situation, Laura. I can’t think of anything better than to have you help with our wedding, but it can’t be allowed to cause you any more anguish. Let’s focus on the thing you love doing most – making amazing floral arrangements and everything else we can take step by step and day by day. There’s no need for you to have to meet anyone en masse. In fact, for now it’ll just be me and Sam, and after that, well, whatever we do, you won’t be doing it alone. How does that sound?’

  Laura took a deep and calming breath. ‘It sounds… a bit scary, but a lot less so than it did. I can’t thank you enough, Freya. I’m really not quite sure what came over me.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t normally make a habit of crying all over people and being quite so pathetic but—’

  Freya put her hand out to interrupt her. ‘You know, I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason… often when we least expect them. A very wise man once taught me that, and when it’s the right time, it really is the right time. Let’s go with that shall we, and see where it takes us. I have a feeling it might be to a very good place indeed.’

  Chapter 7

  ‘And I know what you’re thinking, Stephen, but back off, okay. The last thing she needs is someone beating a path to her door and declaring his undying lust for her.’

  Stephen grinned. ‘Are you ever going to change your opinion of me, even though you know I’m a changed man and you love me really?’

  Sam looked up from yesterday’s newspaper, and arched an eyebrow. ‘Don’t push your luck, Stephen, this is Freya you’re dealing with, don’t forget. She has a memory like an elephant and—’

  ‘You say anything about the size of my backside and you’re a dead man!’ she exclaimed, marching between them. ‘Either of you.’

  Sam winked at his brother and returned his gaze to the paper. ‘What did I tell you?’ he muttered.

  ‘I’m serious,’ said Freya fiercely. ‘Don’t even think of making any sort of advance towards Laura. She’s going to need a huge amount of courage to take these first few steps and I promised her we’d take things slowly. She certainly won’t be looking for any romantic entanglements right now, especially not with someone who has all the subtlety of a brick.’

  Much to Freya’s surprise, Stephen nodded. ‘I can’t imagine what she’s been through. Having David die in a horrific accident was bad enough, but then to have his integrity questioned the way it was… it’s shameful. It seems such a long time ago now, and I’m still surprised neither of us recognised her, but I do remember folks talking about it down the pub for weeks, and not in a good way either.’

  Sam raised his head in astonishment, catching Freya’s eye with a knowing look. ‘I don’t suppose they meant any harm, but folks don’t always think before they open their mouths, especially if they’ve got a few on board at the time. I think we can all remember the time when the three of us were the subject of gossip and speculation, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. The difference was that we had other people around to protect us to some extent. Laura’s been alone with her thoughts day after day.’

  ‘I wonder if she even knows that there were people who stood up for her at the time,’ added Stephen. ‘I didn’t know her then of course… still don’t,’ he rubbed his chin ruefully, ‘but Drummond deserves to be taken down a peg or two. He did back then, and I don’t suppose anything has changed.’

  ‘And you’re going to be the man who does it are you?’ remarked Freya, knowing what Stephen was like.

  Stephen shook his head. ‘Uh uh. Not a chance. Think what that would do to Laura. The whole lot would be raked back up again, and she needs to move on, not be tethered to the past by that scumbag.’

  Freya smiled to herself, careful not to let Stephen see. He wasn’t a changed man, but he was definitely changing. Gone was the angry, arrogant bully who Freya had despised for so many years, and in his place, was a happier and more mature man. She looked at Sam affectionately, knowing that a few short months ago the brothers could hardly bear to be in the same room as one another, let alone trade jokes and mock insults. Things were undeniably shifting; she could feel it.

  As if Sam could feel her eyes on him, he looked up, shaking out the paper.

  ‘What day were you nearly run off the road, Stephen?’ he asked. ‘Was it Monday?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  Sam laid the newspaper flat on the table. ‘Because you might want to take a look at this,’ he said in a low voice, anxiety creasing his brow.

  Sam’s finger tapped on the article which was a third of the way down the page. The headline screamed out at Stephen.

  Hit and run driver leaves pensioner for dead.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he said, scanning the page for details. ‘It happened about the same time, and the driver was thought to have left the village via the Witley Road… that’s where we were.’

  Freya came round the side of the table. ‘What does it say?’ she asked, quickly reading the article. ‘Oh, but that’s awful. You should have gone to the police, Stephen.’

  ‘To say what? I really didn’t see much, I was too busy a) trying to stay on my bike, b) trying not to crash into Laura, and c)… shouting at her,’ he finished lamely. ‘And apart from anything else, I didn’t realise anything was wrong at the time, other than some idiot driver losing it on the bend. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.’

  ‘No, but you can’t ignore what’s in the paper; it’s too much of a coincidence.’

  Stephen rolled his eyes. ‘I wasn’t going to ignore it. Jesus, will you ever stop labelling me as a thoughtless bastard?’

  He snatched up the paper, re-reading the article, while Sam gave Freya a pointed look. She dropped her eyes to the floor.

  ‘What I was going to say,’ said Stephen, ‘is that although I don’t remember much in the way of detail, perhaps Laura does. She was facing the road, and it’s possible she saw more of the car, and sideways on too, which makes a difference. I should go and see her. Between the two of us we might be able to come up with something.’

  Freya frowned. ‘This couldn’t come at a worse time for her,’ she said, thinking ahead. ‘Suppose you are able to give the police something which would help identify who did this, imagine what a furore there’d be; reporters, families… courts. Laura would find it very difficult.’

  ‘So it’s okay for her not to go to the police, but different rules apply to me, is that it?’ Stephen glared at her.

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ she retorted.

  ‘Maybe not, but you might as well have done. The police are appealing for witnesses; we’re witnesses. What else is there to say? I know Laura will find it hard, if she’s seen anything, which of course I don’t know yet. But if there’s anything that needs to be said, at least I’d be there to hold her hand.’

  ‘Yes, I bet you would,’ she snapped, as all her old feelings about Stephen came rushing back.

  Sam lurched up from the table. ‘Will you two stop it! For God’s sake, Freya, give Stephen a break.’ He took the paper from Stephen’s hand. ‘Besides which my brother was speaking metaphorically weren’t you?’

  He nodded sullenly.

  ‘So let’s calm down and get back to what’s important here; that a serious crime has been committed, an elderly lady is very poorly in hospital, and you and Laura are potential witnesses. There’s nothing else to discuss, you both need to have a long hard think about what you may or may not have seen, and then take it to the police. Let them be the judge of what’s useful information.’

  Freya sat down. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I just don’t want Laura to get hurt, that’s all.’

  There was a long sighing breath as Stephen joined her. ‘Freya, neither do I.’


  His words sat between them for a moment, until Freya looked up at him. There was a softness to his eyes that she wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. She nodded gently.

  ‘I don’t have a number for Laura though, only an address. We agreed to meet tomorrow to go through the ideas she’s had for the wedding, but you should probably try to see her before then.’ She hesitated for a few seconds. ‘I could tell you how to get there,’ she added, ‘or I could come with you…’

  Sam cleared his throat. ‘Actually, Freya, I could really use your help this morning. Joe Jones is bringing his crop round at nine. From what he said on the phone, there’s a lot of it.’

  Freya knew when she’d been outwitted. She gave a conciliatory smile. ‘Okay, Stephen, you can go on your own. Laura’s cottage is on the Marlowes road, just before you get to the village. There’s a lane off to the right with a post box on the corner. Laura’s is the last of four houses. Clarence Cottage it’s called.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll find it.’

  ‘Oh, and one more thing?’

  Stephen looked up at the query in her voice.

  ‘Before you go, change out of your running gear.’

  He sucked in his stomach automatically. ‘Aye aye, boss.’ He grinned.

  Sam waited until Stephen had closed the back door behind him before pulling Freya up from her chair.

  ‘I’m very proud of you, you know,’ he smiled, finding her lips with his.

  Freya pulled away slightly. ‘I don’t know why,’ she said. ‘When I’m such a pig. I can see Stephen’s trying really hard, but he still manages to rile me quicker than anyone I know,’ she added.

  ‘You’ll get there,’ he replied. ‘It’s taken Stephen a long time to square up to his shortcomings, but now that he has we need to trust him, hard though that may be. He’s learning to trust himself too, don’t forget.’

  ‘I know,’ Freya sighed, looking at her watch. ‘Right, come on then, we’d better make a start if Joe’s coming at nine.’

  Sam pulled her in closer. ‘Actually,’ he muttered, ‘he said he might be nearer half past… we’ve got forty minutes or so to wait…’ he said, kissing her again.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ winked Freya, kissing him back.

  Laura was in the middle of making a very long list when she realised that someone was ringing her doorbell. She had a light in every room that alerted her to the fact, but engrossed as she was they could have been standing there for quite some time before she noticed. She gave an audible tut. She was in full flow, ideas coming thick and fast and the last thing she needed was an interruption. She hastily scribbled another item on the bottom of her list in case she forgot it.

  She had on her best I can’t stand here talking all day face on as she opened the door, which deepened further when she found Stephen on her doorstep.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked without thinking. It came out rather more bluntly than she had intended.

  ‘Hello,’ he signed, slowly. ‘How are you?’

  Laura stepped back in surprise, suddenly understanding why Stephen looked so uncomfortable. He was nervous, and it was such a contrast to what she expected from him, that she didn’t know how to respond.

  ‘Fine, thanks,’ she signed back.

  There was immediate alarm in his eyes, and she smothered a smile.

  ‘Is that all you know?’ she asked, dropping her hands.

  Stephen offered an apologetic grin. ‘Pretty much,’ he said. ‘That and goodbye, please, thank you, and sorry.’

  ‘I can see we’re going to have a scintillating conversation,’ she said dryly, rather enjoying watching him squirm a little. ‘An interesting collection of words.’

  ‘It was all I had time for,’ he admitted, ‘but I can learn more.’

  A faint tingle of alarm began to sound in Laura’s head. She was touched that he had even tried to learn her language, but she didn’t want to encourage him. She could understand him perfectly well as it was.

  ‘Stephen, why are you here?’ she asked. ‘It’s very kind of you to learn a few words of sign language, but there’s really no need, I can manage.’

  Stephen seemed to examine her doormat for some considerable time before he spoke again.

  ‘I wanted to see if you were okay, after what happened the other day. Apart from throwing you to the ground, I was very rude and obviously upset you. I didn’t intend to.’

  Laura had replayed their encounter over and over again in her head, and was rather ashamed of her own behaviour too, although she didn’t want to admit it to him.

  ‘It was the shock I expect,’ she replied. ‘I wasn’t at my best either, so perhaps we should forget it ever happened. No harm done as it were.’

  Stephen’s face clouded immediately. ‘Under normal circumstances I would agree, but it might not be possible I’m afraid… Look, can I come in, there’s something else I need to discuss with you.’

  His manner had gone from relatively relaxed, albeit in a rather nervous kind of way, to pompously formal in a matter of moments, and although part of her felt intrigued, for the most part, Laura was wary. What on earth could Stephen want with her? Against her better judgment she stepped to one side.

  ‘We’ll go in the kitchen,’ she said.

  Boris stood up the moment Stephen entered the room, crossing to Laura’s side where he stood in front of her like a hairy protective shield. It had the desired effect; Stephen stopped dead, hovering in the doorway unwilling to go any further.

  ‘What’s that matter with you? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a big dog?’ she mocked, hands on her hips.

  ‘Only ones that growl like that,’ replied Stephen, trying to keep his face towards Freya, but with one eye on the dog. ‘I’m just wondering if there’s a bite on the end of it.’

  Freya dropped to her knees in front of Boris so that she was on a level with his nose. ‘Did you growl at the nasty man?’ she cooed, putting her arms around the dog’s neck. ‘I know he pushed me over, but you can let him in okay, you don’t have to eat him.’

  She stood up again, waving an airy hand at Stephen. ‘Go and make friends, Boris,’ she said.

  Stephen took several steps backwards as the dog covered the distance between them in an instant, thrusting its wet nose into the crotch of his jeans, before licking his hand.

  ‘I suppose you enjoyed that?’ Stephen remarked, trying to extricate himself.

  ‘Of course… although in all seriousness, he was just trying to protect me,’ she added, trying to soften the blow to Stephen’s pride. ‘He’ll be fine now. Just come on in and have a seat. I’ll make some coffee, shall I?’

  Stephen nodded. ‘No sugar, thanks.’

  She turned her back, reaching for a couple of mugs, and adding coffee to both. She was trying to decide what to say next and by keeping her back to Stephen she knew she was effectively forestalling any more conversation until she was ready to speak. He probably deserved an apology for her behaviour the other day; he also deserved her thanks. She was well aware that being thrown in the bushes was a small price to pay for not being run over, but she really didn’t want to make a big deal of it. It was bad enough that he was here at all. She certainly didn’t want him to visit again.

  The coffee made, she had no further excuse to keep her back to Stephen, and she turned round, expecting to see him waiting patiently at the table. Instead he was on the other side of the room, inspecting a garland she had made a couple of days earlier and hung in her favourite spot on the wall facing the doorway. The morning sun had picked out the stems of Honesty, like slivers of silver. He held out a hand to touch one of them while she watched.

  He turned to look for her, wanting to speak, and dropped his gaze in embarrassment when he realised she was staring at him. She could see his lips start to move.

  ‘I can’t tell what you’re saying if your head is down,’ she said gently, blushing slightly as he also coloured.

  His head jerked up again. ‘I’m sorry…I didn’t think, t
his is harder than… But this is beautiful,’ he said. ‘I wanted to tell you. Especially this,’ he added, reaching out to touch the seeds once more. ‘What’s it called?’

  ‘Honesty,’ answered Laura.

  Stephen swallowed. ‘Oh,’ was all he managed.

  Laura waved the mugs slightly, moving back to the table and sitting down. She waited for Stephen to do the same. She was about to speak when he leant forward to touch her hand.

  ‘You made that, didn’t you,’ he said. ‘It’s what you do.’ He rubbed a hand across his mouth that was creasing into a smile. ‘I should probably explain how I know that as well shouldn’t I, before you think I’m some sort of psychic nutter. My future sister-in-law mentioned that she’d met you, and that you’re going to help with her wedding flowers…’ He looked at her apologetically. ‘I have a bit of an unfair advantage don’t I, especially since we’ve never been properly introduced, but—’

  ‘I know your name’s Stephen,’ interrupted Laura.

  ‘Oh. Did Freya mention me?’

  ‘No, I just know who you are.’ She let that sit for a moment. ‘And I expect that you know my name is Laura, because you’ve put two and two together, and after all how many deaf girls with big dogs can there be around here?’

  As soon as the words had left her mouth, her eyes flickered closed in irritation. She had promised herself she wasn’t going to do this. Stephen looked quite uncomfortable and she almost missed what he said next.

  ‘It wasn’t quite like that,’ he added. She could see the line of his jaw tightening.

  She took in a deep breath and smiled. ‘No, I know. Sorry, that came out wrong.’ His teeth were still clenched.

  ‘So, anyway, now that we don’t need to introduce ourselves, I should at least say thank you for the other day,’ she said as brightly as she could. ‘I realised later of course that you were actually trying to do me a favour by pushing me in the bush. And if you hadn’t, then either you would have hit me with your bike, or Giles would have run me over. On balance the bush was the much better option.’

 

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