by Ashley Croft
Dumping her bag, she grabbed the scissors from the drawer and carefully slit the top of the packet open.
The card was tasteful enough, she supposed. It was plain matt silver with a red heart in the middle. The message was typed on a computer and stuck onto the card with Pritt, a bit like a ransom demand, she decided.
HOT BRUNETTE IN THE BEHAVIOURAL ECOLOGY LAB
WANNA BE THE ANTIGEN TO MY ANTIBODY?
Molly groaned. It was the kind of message she’d read in the lonely-hearts column in the free papers they gave away on trains. The soft parcel was wrapped – very badly – in white tissue paper that was obviously recycled, probably from round a wine bottle. She pulled off the tissue, pulled out a purple furry lump and burst out laughing.
‘Nice. A cuddly microbe. What every woman wants.’ She read the label. ‘And how romantic. It’s an Epstein-Barr Virus. The kissing disease.’
Molly put the furry toy on the coffee table and it smiled at her from its fringed eyelashes. ‘Suppose it could be worse. Could have been Ebola.’
She looked at the card. It had to be Pete. She shuddered. Well, if he thought he was going to have the chance to pass on his EBV to her, he had another thing coming. Unless she had another admirer in the lab. Briefly, it crossed her mind that Ewan might have sent it but then she dismissed the idea. There was no way Ewan would send anyone a cuddly microbe and a line obviously stolen from the personal ads in the free newspaper.
She changed into fresh jeans and a jumper and drove round to Sarah’s, racking her brain to think of other candidates all the way. There was an older technician who was always making jokey but innocent remarks to her, but he was ready for retirement and as far as she knew, married. He didn’t seem like a cuddly microbe kind of guy and the message was a bit young to have come from him.
She longed to tell Sarah about the package and, in the past, she’d have giggled and groaned over her mystery Valentine’s admirer but it seemed tactless since Niall had walked out, so she kept schtum. Sarah was tired after the wedding fair anyway, and had spent the day working commissions she’d taken on. Alcohol was off the menu for both of them so they consoled themselves with pizza and elderflower fizz.
‘It was really nice of you and Liam to rescue us last weekend,’ Molly said, tucking into a large slice of pepperoni.
‘Yes, he’s a nice guy.’
Sarah swallowed the last morsel of ham and pineapple. Molly thought her sister had a soft bloom to her cheeks and her hair was thick and bouncy. The baby was suiting her.
‘Does Niall know about Liam?’ she asked.
‘Why should he? Liam’s just a friend. He knows Liam exists, because he had to do first aid on him after I hit him with the Toby jug, but other than that, it’s none of his business. Why should Niall care?’
‘I don’t know. I wondered maybe if he was jealous or something.’
‘Why would he be jealous? He’s got bloody Vanessa now.’ Sarah spat the name out and pushed her plate onto the coffee table. She sighed. ‘Ewan seems nice though.’
‘Oh, he can convince strangers he’s almost normal for a short time,’ said Molly tartly. ‘It’s me he’s rude and grumpy with.’
‘Have you thought that’s because he’s constantly trying to hide the way he really feels? Maybe he’s in a state of perpetual sexual frustration.’
‘Well, I hope he’s suffering because I know I am.’
‘You would tell me if there was anything more between you, wouldn’t you, hon? I won’t burst into tears. Just because I’ve had a crap time lately doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a good one.’
‘Thanks, that means a lot to me, but to be honest I don’t know where I am with Ewan. He can’t seem to make up his mind whether he’s interested or not and I don’t want to risk another humiliation like at the New Year’s party. If he wants me, he’s going to have to come and get me.’
‘Way to go,’ said Sarah, yawning.
‘I shan’t hold my breath.’
‘Nooooo …’
Sarah had fallen asleep so Molly flicked between three different romcoms on the TV while her sister snored gently on the sofa. She smiled to herself, wondering if Ewan was picturing her enjoying a cosy dinner for two. Well, she hadn’t exactly lied, had she?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Niall stood in the lounge, his face bright red after the dash straight from work on his motorbike. He’d called to discuss the progress of the sale and insisted on calling in person. Knowing she had to face up to him sometime, Sarah had agreed although the thought that he’d be going home to Vanessa’s kinky charms was literally nauseating.
He peered at her. ‘Jesus, Sare. Would you like me to make you a cup of tea? You look really pale and knackered.’
‘I’m fine. Just been busy with work. Valentine’s Day and wedding fairs. You know how it is.’
‘I suppose so. It’s that time of year.’ He tried to flash her a smile, but it rapidly vanished, presumably when he saw Sarah’s frosty expression.
She resisted the urge to ask him what he and Vanessa had done for Valentine’s Day. He’d probably spent it chained to the bed, being flogged with a fluffy whip while Vanessa trod on him with her work boots.
‘Are you really OK?’ Niall’s face was full of concern.
‘Like I said, I’ve been busy.’
‘It’s a stressful time for both of us. Look, why don’t I make the tea and we can deal with some of the paperwork for the sale. I must admit it’s looking very smart,’ he said soothingly, probably hoping to win her over.
‘I decluttered a few things,’ said Sarah, hoping he wouldn’t go upstairs and discover she’d taken his science fantasy novels and jazz vinyl collection to the tip, along with some of the downstairs junk.
‘The flowers are a nice touch.’
Sarah glanced at the bunch of daffodils and tulips in the hearth. Liam had bought the daffs and one of her brides had given her the tulips as a thank you.
‘Yes,’ she said neutrally before flashing him a smile and heading for the kitchen. ‘But I’ll make the tea.’
She made the drinks and steeled herself for the discussion. She read through some paperwork and agreed to deal with some of the admin with the solicitors and agents alongside Niall. It at least gave her some sense of control over the situation. After finishing his tea, Niall got up to leave. Sarah’s resolve and energy levels were flagging. It was exhausting trying to put on a front of control and calmness when you felt like screaming.
At the door, Niall put his leather jacket on and hugged her briefly, although Sarah remained stiff under his embrace. The scent of the leather made her want to cry but she toughened up.
‘Sarah. Thanks for being so good about this. I know it must be hard. Shit … I never ever thought it would end like this …’
And that, thought Sarah, was where they were different. She never thought it would end at all.
*
On the following Sunday morning, Sarah felt some proper warmth to the sun as she unlocked the door to the workshop. Daffodils nodded in the tubs on the patio and there were already some yellow flowers on the forsythia. The cottage garden was so gorgeous in spring and it would break her heart to leave it. Molly had offered her a temporary home in her flat while she found somewhere suitable for the business and the baby, but Sarah couldn’t bear to think about moving. She switched on the heater and laid out the materials. Liam was a little late and she found herself worrying that he might not turn up at all. In the end, he arrived a few minutes after they’d started. He’d been Skyping Hayley, he said, to ask her opinion on the suggested menus for the wedding.
He stayed behind after the others had left, raising a few eyebrows from Sarah’s regulars.
‘Well, what do you think?’ he said, as Sarah modelled the new tiara in front of the workshop mirror. Sarah looked at the silver and seed pearl confection resting on her auburn waves. Liam’s face appeared behind her and she had a flashback to New Year’s Eve when she’d first found out she
was expecting the baby and hidden it from Niall.
He frowned. ‘Hmm. I’m not sure it’s quite turned out how I envisaged,’ he said. He blew out a breath and his brown eyes were clouded with doubt. ‘I think it’s almost there …’
‘But that doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful or even better than you’d expected,’ said Sarah.
‘No …’
She smiled at his thoughtful face. ‘Then what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. I suppose.’
‘I was just thinking it would be nice if Hayley had a matching necklace, earrings and bracelet. How long would they take to make?’
‘A morning at most.’
‘I see.’
‘And won’t your daughter’s husband want to give her a special gift to wear on her wedding day? Or something of her mum’s? I think it might be better if you made something completely different for her birthday or Christmas.’
‘You’re right, of course. Christmas is a long way off but her birthday’s in June so that’s a good idea.’
‘I can sell you a kit or you can do another workshop.’
‘Or both,’ he said. ‘I’d like you to meet her one day.’
‘I’d like that too,’ said Sarah. She might have baby brain and be grieving for Niall but she wasn’t totally brain dead. She knew Liam wanted an excuse to keep seeing her and she knew she’d miss him a lot if he disappeared out of her life.
‘What I’m really asking is if we can stay friends,’ he said.
‘I know and the answer’s yes. Lots of my clients become friends.’
‘I expect they do but I probably didn’t quite mean it like that … but I also don’t want to put you under any pressure. I know how you feel about Niall and the baby’s on its way. The last thing you need is someone like me hanging around, complicating things so tell me to bugger off, if you need to.’
‘You’re not complicating things … and thanks for understanding how I feel. It’s just, I don’t want you to think I’m using you.’
‘Using me? What for?’
‘For support. To help me fix dripping cisterns and tidy up the mess here and find me a new workshop. I’d hate it if you thought that.’
‘You mean you’d hate it if you thought I was doing the things a friend does?’
‘No. I like having you as a friend. I just don’t want to exploit you.’
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was every bit as fit as Niall and probably, if she was honest, much better-looking – for an older guy – and he had a quiet inner confidence that was as appealing as Niall’s larky charm.
‘Sarah. No one has ever managed to exploit me yet. I’m happy to do anything I can to help you move forward from what’s happened. I like being with you, even when you’re telling me my wire work isn’t right and my choice of colours doesn’t gel.’
‘Do I do that?’
‘You do and it’s what I need but please don’t think I’m helping you to put you under any obligation or pressure. You know I enjoy being with you but I also know what it’s like when you’ve lost someone.’
His blunt words made her heart ache, for a few seconds. Literally ache but she wasn’t angry with Liam. Under other circumstances, in another life, another time, she could imagine herself falling for him, falling in love with him. The moment she let the thought into her head, she felt sick. She couldn’t fall in love again after Niall. Not with anyone but the Niall she’d first known.
‘I haven’t lost Niall,’ she said. ‘Not in the way you lost your wife. I won’t compare it.’
‘No, but some of the feelings must be similar and just as devastating but worse in one way because he’s still here, coming round, confusing you. It must be very difficult to let go of him.’
‘It is.’ Sarah fixed on a smile. ‘But I am trying.’ Not very hard, she thought. Not hard enough. ‘Liam, I like being with you too. You make me laugh and you’re extremely useful round the house and you don’t have to sign up for another class to have an excuse to visit.’
His dark eyes sparkled. ‘No, but I do feel as if I need an excuse.’
She laughed. ‘If you really feel that, you’ll just have to make one up.’
‘I guess I’ll have to be more creative.’ As she handed him the tiara, his fingers brushed hers and lingered for a nanosecond longer than they needed to. Sarah didn’t rush to move her hand either. She felt a tingling low in her stomach that felt remarkably like lust. Her face heated up. It must have been the baby stirring, but surely it was too soon for that? She put the tiara back on the countertop. She mustn’t, couldn’t flirt with Liam. It was cruel to him when she still loved Niall.
‘Have you thought any more about checking out the craft unit?’ he said, cutting through her confusion.
‘I have and I’m still not sure. It’s very kind of you but don’t wait for me to make up my mind, please.’ The feeling in the pit of her stomach was back and it wasn’t the baby or lust but guilt. ‘Liam, I’m sorry but I’m still all over the place, in every way.’
‘I can see that. I understand. I couldn’t make a decision for months after losing Kerren. I went around on autopilot and it was only thanks to the managers and staff at the business that we didn’t go under. For what it’s worth I think you’re doing a great job keeping things going, if that doesn’t sound patronising.’
‘No. Some days I’ve just felt like chucking it all in.’ Literally, thought Sarah, cringing at the memory of trashing the workshop.
‘You’ll get through this,’ he said softly. ‘I promise you will because you’re strong and determined. I tell you what, why don’t you come and at least take a quick look at the unit? Are you still planning on moving in with Molly for a while?’
‘I … don’t know yet. We still haven’t found a buyer for the cottage. We had an offer but it was withdrawn because they found another property they liked even more.’
‘I’m sure you will soon. Come and see if the unit would suit your needs. It might help make your decision easier. You’ll need a workshop whatever happens, and even if this one isn’t right for you, it will give you an idea of what you do and don’t want.’
Sarah smiled weakly. Liam was absolutely right, of course. Taking the craft unit and living with Molly while she looked for something more suitable for her and the baby was the sensible thing to do. The logical and practical thing to do, but love wasn’t any of those things.
‘OK,’ she said, forcing brightness into her voice.
He smiled warmly. ‘Let me know a time that suits and I’ll meet you there.’
*
A few days later, Liam parked his car outside a row of business units. After meeting outside his office, he’d driven her to the site on the edge of the city. Sarah got out, pleasantly surprised at her first impressions. The word “unit” had conjured up images of metal-roofed factory buildings but the centre was far more rustic than she’d expected. The site backed onto open meadowland with a pond and trees and the landscaped areas in front were neatly kept and planted with pansies and spring flowers.
Liam clicked the car shut and joined her in the courtyard at the front of the development.
The wind gusted and Sarah pulled her hair out of her eyes. ‘Are these units really brand new?’
‘Yes and no. There were some farm buildings on the site that had been used as motor workshops and body repair. We’ve tried to redevelop them in a sympathetic style. There’s the empty unit, between the wood turner and the bakery.’
‘That’s the Kingfisher Bakery. They make amazing wedding and celebration cakes.’
‘Could you use the connection to help increase your business?’
‘Definitely. I could pop in and have a word with them. If I took the unit, of course,’ she added hastily.
‘Well, you don’t have to decide now. Would you like to take a look inside?’
Once in the unit, he explained about the site’s facilities and amenities. The unit had a good-sized space that would be ideal for t
he workshop and its own separate cloakroom and kitchen area for making refreshments, plus a useful storeroom. He talked about the security available and the car park spaces allocated for her and customers. The scent of baking wafted into the unit occasionally but Sarah knew she and her customers could definitely live with that. It was actually rather comforting … and she could pick up cakes for the refreshment breaks. Maybe even run cake and beading evenings … hook up with the bakery for the promotional events.
Liam’s voice cut into her thoughts. ‘It can get busy outside, but there’s always some space so people can park off the road.’
‘Who owns the unit? Is the developer OK to deal with? I’ve heard of nightmares with dodgy landlords hiking rents and not doing maintenance et cetera.’
He laughed. ‘There’s no need to worry. I think the developer can be relied on.’
‘Even so, I’d like to know who they are.’
‘They’re us, LC Holdings. It was my company who developed and let the units.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘Is that a problem?’
‘Not really but I don’t want you to do me any special favours.’
‘I know you want to be independent and not beholden to anyone. The rent is a commercial one less a small discount because I know you’d be a good tenant and pay the rent and not burn the place down or turn it into a crystal meth factory.’
Sarah had to smile. ‘I don’t know, those beading fanatics can really kick off if they want to.’
‘I’ll bet. You can check out the rents for the other units on our website but I won’t force you into a decision although I could do with knowing at some point soon.’
‘I know. I don’t mean to be ungrateful; and the unit is perfect. It’s just a big decision to make.’
‘Yes, I can imagine that. Have a look around while I make a few calls.’
She had another look round while Liam finished his call. No matter how hard she tried to find fault with the building and location, she couldn’t. No decision, big or small, seemed easy to make these days, not even one about how she felt. She kept trying to blame it on her hormones and the upheaval in her life but the constant readjustment to her hopes and dreams, combined with her body’s physical changes, was exhausting.