by Emma Davies
She remembered firework displays from her childhood, how her stomach had contracted with the thud of the rockets, noise that seemed to come from no-where even though it was expected, the sharp staccato crackles leaving her ears ringing. Of course, now, for her, the fireworks had fallen silent, but she could recall the noisy confusion as if it was yesterday.
Another burst lit up the darkened room, the intensity of it making even Laura jump. She could feel the fur in Boris’ throat quivering and knew that he was growling. Her murmured words of comfort were having little effect and he broke free from her hold, running at the window, jumping. She would like to give whoever was being so irresponsible a piece of her mind, but there was little point; she would never be heard. The flashes were coming almost continually now, until, blinded, Laura could scarcely make out the room in front of her. Boris was frantic, running up and down the room, and out into the hallway. She realised belatedly that the light which alerted her to a caller at the front door was flashing too, and it was then that the first slivers of fear began to replace her anger.
She got to her feet, trying to catch hold of Boris, but he was lunging at the window and she was almost knocked over by his huge size. He was trying to protect her, she knew that, but the dog was clearly terrified too. Her own heart was hammering in her chest, and it gave a wild leap as a masked face appeared at the window, illuminated for a second by the flare outside. Whoever was outside was in her garden! And then, as an icy trail snaked down her back, everything began to make sense. This was not kids having irresponsible fun, nor was it an early bonfire party. This was a deliberate attack on her.
Laura grabbed hold of Boris’ collar and dragged him across the floor and out into the hallway. She kicked the kitchen door closed, whimpering, and came to rest in the corner of the hallway, her back against the wall, her arms trying to contain the terrified dog. It was at least darker in the hallway, with the doors closed and no windows to broadcast the light from the fireworks. The doorbell alarm was still flashing, but the light from it was nothing compared with the onslaught in the kitchen. She could only imagine the noise level, and knew this was what was making Boris so scared, and her so panicked. She also realised that it was preventing her from thinking straight.
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate for a moment, weighing up what she could do. There was no way she could go outside. Apart from being terrified, without fully functioning senses she would be defenceless; and Boris, despite his size, was a gentle dog and not given to aggressive behaviour. And then it hit her; the cold truth was that whoever was behind this definitely knew her, and knew the best way to scare her too. She clung to Boris even tighter, knowing that she was trapped in her own home until whoever was outside had finished intimidating her. Only then might she be able to venture back into the kitchen and root out her mobile. She was beginning to feel slightly more in control when she suddenly realised that she had no memory of locking her back door. Granted, she normally did it automatically when she had finished outside for the day, but in her earlier haste she couldn’t remember whether she had or not. The thought made her stomach leap in shock; they could be in her kitchen right now…
To her surprise, this new fear brought anger rushing to the surface. How dare they corner her in her own home? Cowardly bullies, she thought, that’s all they were, and it was about time she stood up for herself. She flung open the door to the kitchen, realising a split second too late that the room was now pitch black. She cannoned straight into a hard body on the other side of the door, the shock causing her legs to buckle alarmingly. She felt a cry loose itself from her lips, and a pair of arms caught hold of her as she dropped; strong arms which held her up and then held her close. She breathed in a scent that had become so familiar over the last few days, and this time instead of evading Stephen’s touch, she returned it, letting his solid warmth seep into her.
The tears came as she felt his hand move to cradle her head. She could feel his lips moving against her hair, saying words she could neither hear nor see, yet words her heart imagined. They clung together silently in the dark for several moments until Laura felt a sudden need to see his face, to talk, and to understand. Slowly she disentangled herself and doubled back to flick on the light switch, flinching once more as the kitchen sprang into relief.
Stephen’s face was dark with anger, but his eyes were soft on hers.
‘They’ve gone,’ he said. ‘It’s okay.’
He bent down, stretching out one hand in front of him, and as Laura watched, Boris slunk across the floor, half his usual height, his tail tucked between his legs, but with just the faintest twitch of a wag. He pushed his nose into Stephen’s palm, his body quivering gently, from fear still, or a sense of delight, Laura couldn’t tell. He sat on the floor pulling Laura down too and held the dog in a jumble of limbs between them. ‘Who were they?’ she whispered.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Stephen replied. ‘Three of them, all wearing masks. It’s a wonder they didn’t kill themselves, letting off fireworks at such close range, but I imagine that when the police catch up with them, they’ll be easy to spot; their clothes must be covered in burns, and stink too I shouldn’t wonder.’
Laura nodded. ‘And will the police catch up with them?’ she asked.
‘If they’ve anything about them they will. Particularly as I told them a good place to start looking.’
She swallowed. ‘You reckon it was Giles then?’
‘Not personally. He’s far too cowardly for that,’ sneered Stephen, ‘but he’ll have found some thugs for hire. His sort generally do.’
‘I can’t believe he’d be so stupid. I mean he’s now being investigated for a hit and run, right? How does this possibly make things any better for him?’
Stephen sighed. ‘Well he might be loaded, and he might think the world is his to command, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t thick as shit. Whereas you and I might approach a difficulty with rational thought and integrity, I suspect that when the Drummond family are faced with a problem, they simply require it to be got rid of; I don’t suppose they’re especially bothered about how.’ Stephen sank his hands into the dog’s fur. ‘And of course there is another way to look at it…’
‘Which is?’
‘That by scaring you senseless you might change your mind about what you saw on the day of the accident… that you might even retract your statement, telling the police that you simply got it wrong…’
‘But that’s ridiculous!’
‘It’s not actually… Because today they only scared you. They lit fireworks, knowing that the noise would terrify Boris and that the flashes and flares would disorientate you. By taking out Boris, it effectively made you very vulnerable, which is just what they wanted of course—’
‘Yes, but…’
Stephen held up his hand. ‘And if they could do that today… what might they get up to the next day, or the next…’
Laura stared at the gentle expression on Stephen’s face. He couldn’t possibly mean that, he was just being melodramatic; but the more she looked at him, the more she could see the truth in what he had said. A shiver ran through her. Despite all that had happened to her in the past, Laura still believed in a world that was kind and good. Things like this only happened in soap operas, not real life. And yet, it had happened. Giles Drummond had knocked down a defenceless old lady and driven away; left her for dead at the side of the road, and even now, when faced with the possibility of having to accept responsibility for his actions, he was trying to wheedle his way out of it. People did do bad things, she had seen the proof of it, and Stephen was right. She felt his hand cover hers.
‘I’m not trying to scare you, Laura, but we need to think carefully about what we do next. I’m worried about you being on your own, and I know you’re very capable, and independent…’ he gave a wry smile, ‘and you’ll probably punch me for coming over all macho on you, but even though I know all this, I’m still not happy about you being by yourself. I don’t want to
point out the obvious for risk of permanent injury to my nether regions, but where Giles is concerned your deafness puts you at a real disadvantage, and he knows it.’
A few months ago, she would have been angry at Stephen’s words, and his nether regions would most definitely have been under threat, but today, she simply smiled. She had changed over the last few weeks, and however much she wanted to dispute that fact, her current feelings were proof, and they would have to be faced up to very soon. She wasn’t at all sure what she wanted to do about them, but for now at least the thought of Stephen not leaving her alone was stomach churningly lovely. A warm glow began to rise up from her toes.
‘So what do we do now?’ she asked, blushing.
‘Well, our most pressing business is still Freya and Sam’s wedding and nothing must prevent that from being the glorious day it deserves to be, which also includes giving your decorations the chance to shine, by the way. As all your materials are here, and you’re going to need help gathering more of them and transporting them too, I suggest that I bagsy your spare room… just for a few days until we see how things lie. That way I can help make sure that the wedding arrangements go according to plan, and I can be on hand in case there’s any repeat of this evening. I dread to think what might have happened if I hadn’t been around.’
Laura hardly dared to think what colour her face might be, but apart from that she suddenly realised what had been flitting about in her brain over the last few minutes.
‘I was wondering about that,’ she said. ‘Don’t think that I’m not stupidly grateful of course, but why are you here? I thought we’d said goodbye for the evening.’
‘Ah…’ smiled Stephen, patting his stomach. ‘I’d like to say something worthy and heroic, but sadly it was a case of having got home, realising that I was knackered, starving, and couldn’t face cooking, and wondering if maybe you felt the same? I was going to suggest a takeaway. The Indian place at the far end of the High Street is very good, it does home delivery too.’
The look on Stephen’s face was priceless. ‘Well, it’s honest at least.’ She grinned. ‘And… actually not a bad idea. Now that I’ve thought about it, I’m starving as well. I could murder a good curry.’
She ruffled Boris’ fur one more time and, laughing, struggled to get to her feet. Stephen followed suit until they stood rather shyly in the middle of the room.
‘What about my other suggestion?’ began Stephen, scuffing at the floor with his foot. ‘Do you think perhaps I should stay for a bit?’
‘Let’s get some food sorted first,’ she replied, ‘then we can talk about it. I’ll see if I can find a menu.’
She turned away so that Stephen wouldn’t see her smile. She didn’t want him to think she was a complete pushover.
Chapter 14
Stephen was not normally given to strong emotions, nor had he found it easy in the past to show them, but as Freya moved slowly down the aisle towards him, his throat constricted almost painfully. Beside him, Sam stood waiting patiently for his bride, and as she neared, Stephen’s heart swelled with delight and pride.
Freya looked radiant, and more than that, thought Stephen, she was totally and utterly, blissfully in love. It shone out of her, in the way she walked, the way her eyes sparkled as she met those of the people sitting in the pews she passed, and the way she clasped her bouquet excitedly in front of her, a beautiful tribute to the life she had made with Sam, and one which they would now share forever.
Rosy apples jostled for space with huge deep pink peonies; eucalyptus leaves and sage sat between glowing hips and golden pears; pale roses met with dark dusky blackberries and huge speckled poppy heads. If Stephen hadn’t helped collect all these beautiful things he would never have believed it for himself, and two rows behind him, Laura sat in the church, where he hoped she was also bursting with pride at her achievement. He had heard the gasps of astonishment from the congregation as they filed into the church, and it hurt him more than anything to know that she could not hear them herself. But she must surely see the delight on the faces, the fingers that pointed out her stunning decorations where the unusual and the traditional sat side by side in such perfect harmony.
A golden beam of afternoon sun filtered through the huge windows in front of him and warmed the stone flags onto which Freya now stepped. The light settled upon her and Sam and, as the vicar came forward to join them both in marriage, a wide smile settled over Stephen’s face. He had come a long way since the days when he had fought Sam every step of the way; fought even to take Freya from him, and had she not come to her senses when she did they would both have been condemned to an unhappy future. It had taken a long time for things to come right again, for Stephen even longer than Freya and Sam, but as he watched the couple in front of him now, he realised that things were just as they should be.
It was only a matter of hours since he and Laura had last left the marquee. They had worked into the wee small hours, dressing and pinning, arranging and perfecting, but now, as the wedding guests filed in to take their places, he increased his pressure on Laura’s hand. The space looked amazing, and the expression on her face was mirrored by his own; a mixture of excitement, of childlike wonder, and an overwhelming relief that it did indeed look as good as they had imagined it would. Appleyard Farm was shining like a jewel today, and the woman by his side had been responsible for most of it.
The conversation was increasing to a steady hum, and Stephen knew that this was when Laura would feel most ill at ease. It was hard enough for her to follow what people were saying in a crowd, but when they were eating and drinking as well, it unwittingly made their speech almost impossible for her to decipher. For the most part he could do nothing but stay by her side and make sure that she could at least understand his words. Beyond that he had one or two little surprises up his sleeve, which he hoped would be received in the spirit in which they were offered.
He almost hadn’t told Sam and Freya what he had done, fearing they would laugh at him, or even be angry with him for making arrangements for their wedding day without their knowledge. But the fact that Freya had turned away when he told them, on the pretext of putting the kettle on, had meant more to him than her words ever could. He had seen the tears welling in her eyes, and although he knew he still had much to prove to her about his behaviour, her reaction was more than he could have wished for. He also had her and Sam’s blessing which made everything all the easier of course. His speech nestled in his jacket pocket and he patted it for the umpteenth time that day. He almost knew it off by heart but automatically felt for it just the same.
He had arranged for Laura to sit at the top table, alongside him, and with Freya’s best friend, Merry, who had acted as maid of honour, on her other side. He knew that Merry had owned a florist shop once upon a time and hoped that the two of them would have plenty to talk about. As they took their seats he caught the eye of one of the guests sitting directly on the table opposite and gave a nervous smile. His stomach was in knots.
Laura concentrated on her food for a moment. The room was a confused jumble of words, gathered here and there as she looked out onto the sea of faces in front of her, but to her surprise she was still enjoying herself. It didn’t much matter that she couldn’t follow what people were saying all the time, because everywhere she looked she saw smiling faces and the mood was infectious. Most eyes were quite rightly on Freya, but she saw many looking at her huge urns filled with the countryside, and bounty from the farm, and the smiles remained in place. She even caught the eye of a few people, folk she had known for years, only this time instead of looking away, or worse, pretending they hadn’t seen her, they held her look, nodded and smiled. Something subtle had changed in their reactions, and with a jolt she realised that she was the reason.
Previously, her gaze had been a challenge, a dare to prove her suspicions right, and an opportunity to justify her own poor behaviour. She realised now that she had made people uncomfortable, embarrassed even, and had deserved
the responses she got, simply because she had given people no other choice. A scowl was met with a scowl, just as now, a smile was met with a smile. It was a simple equation, but one which had taken her far too long to work out.
She realised that Stephen was talking to her again, and leaned in towards him. He had, as he suggested, moved into her spare bedroom and, whether it was the sight of his car, a constant companion to hers on the driveway, or the fact that he insisted they sit with the curtains open every evening in case anyone happened to glance in and see that she was not alone, she wasn’t sure, but nothing untoward had happened since the incident with the fireworks. In fact, nothing untoward had happened at all, and Laura wasn’t entirely sure if she was disappointed or not. They had got on well after the initial embarrassment of finding themselves sleeping under the same roof; beyond that their relationship had been friendly and companionable, but nothing more.
Now he seemed a little jittery and she hoped it was simply nerves at the thought of his looming speech. Throughout the day he had been attentiveness personified, making sure that she was okay, that she wasn’t too nervous herself, or feeling uncomfortable. At times, he had seemed to want to say something more than the words that had actually come out of his mouth, but the feeling passed again, and Laura was left wondering. As she looked at him now, she realised that she was not concentrating at all on what he was saying, but instead focusing on the full curve of his mouth, the slight dimple that appeared in his right cheek when he spoke, and the warmth in his eyes. She frowned and asked him to repeat what he had said.
‘I’m sorry, I was miles away,’ she added. And she was. She was thinking very much about kissing him.
She almost missed the start of Stephen’s speech. She was deep in conversation with Merry, who was fascinated to know more about her business, and it was only when she stopped talking and touched Laura’s arm, that she realised Stephen was tapping the side of his glass with a knife. She straightened up, and arranged her face into a polite smile. She would have to take her cue from the other wedding guests about when to laugh as she doubted very much that she would be able to follow what he was saying from this angle.