Secrets and Scandals in Little Woodford

by Catherine Jones

  She was almost out of the gate when she heard feet running behind her.

  ‘Wait.’

  She spun round. ‘Why should I?’

  ‘OK, I will. I will try.’

  ‘You’ve got to do more than try, Zac. You’ve got to do it.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘And you need to go home, you need to talk to your mum. You need to get her to help you.’

  ‘I... I can’t.’

  ‘Why not? Zac, you don’t have a choice. Besides, she knows you do drugs, how much worse can it get?’

  Zac didn’t answer.

  ‘Then you’re on your own.’ Megan strode off.

  *

  Lewis and Alfie were in the sitting room playing a game which involved their complete supply of toy cars and a great deal of noise while Bex was in the kitchen busy creaming sugar and butter together in preparation for making a Victoria sandwich. Over the racket from the sitting room, she heard Megan call hello as she came through front door.

  ‘Hi, Bex,’ she said.

  ‘How was the skatepark?’

  ‘Fine, it was fun. Really good.’

  ‘That’s great.’ Hallelujah, thought Bex. She got busy with her wooden spoon again, thwacking it around the bowl to make the butter and sugar mix pale and floppy.

  Megan pulled a chair out and slumped onto it. There was something about Megan’s demeanour which didn’t mesh with her words.

  ‘What happened about Lily?’ asked Bex.

  ‘Lily?’

  ‘Didn’t Mr Smithson want to see her today?’

  ‘Oh... yes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Someone said he suspended her.’

  ‘Good, that should teach her a lesson.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  Bex stopped beating the mix again. ‘So, why aren’t you happy?’

  Megan shrugged.

  ‘Has something else happened?’

  Megan shook her head and stared at the table.

  Bex pulled out the chair opposite her stepdaughter and sat down. ‘Megan, I’m not stupid and something is bothering you. School is OK now, isn’t it?’

  Megan looked at her. ‘School is fine,’ she confirmed.

  ‘Then there’s something else going on.’

  ‘It’s just...’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Bad things seem to happen to people who are around me. Daddy, then Stella, then Lily...’

  ‘No! No, sweetie, you mustn’t think like that. Daddy’s death was a terrible accident and no one asked Stella to nick our memory book and no one suggested to Lily she ought to pry into your past. The things that happened to those two were nothing to do with you.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘They weren’t.’

  Megan fell silent again. After a bit she said, ‘I saw Zac at the skatepark.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘He and Ashley had a fight.’

  ‘A fight? What about?’

  Megan shrugged and stared at the table.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about those two,’ said Bex. ‘Fighting is a boy thing.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘And I could be wrong,’ said Bex, ‘but Olivia was talking about her husband wanting to move into a smaller house so things at Zac’s home may not be entirely rosy. If Zac’s miserable he may be on a short fuse, and lashing out is what boys do when they’re like that. Or, some do anyway.’

  ‘Yeah, I don’t think Zac’s very happy at the moment.’

  ‘There you go then. But I don’t want you worrying about other people. You’ve had enough to cope with recently without taking on other people’s problems too.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She still sounded sad and thoughtful.

  ‘Let’s have a cup of tea.’

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Megan got up from the table and filled the kettle. While she stood at the counter with her back to Bex, she said, ‘Zac told me he’s on drugs.’

  The wooden spoon Bex was using clattered into the bowl, then she said, quite calmly, ‘Really? Silly lad.’

  ‘Zac told me his mum has found out.’

  ‘Ah. Poor Olivia.’

  ‘He’s in a bad place, Bex.’

  ‘I can imagine. And I don’t expect things are much better for his mum.’

  *

  Amy arrived home from doing some shopping to find Ashley waiting for her but she was too busy getting her key out of the lock and putting it away in her handbag to pay him much notice.

  ‘We need to talk, Mum.’

  ‘Give us a mo, Ash. I’ve not even got me coat off yet or put the kettle on. I’m dying for a cuppa, me.’

  It took her a couple of minutes to put away the shopping, hang her jacket up and have a quick wee before she turned her attention to her son. It also gave her a couple of minutes to try and work out how she was going to tell him that, after the morning’s events, things were going to be a bit tight again – worse if Billy stayed with them at weekends and she had another mouth to feed.

  ‘Now, what’s so urgent...’ The sentence died on her lips when she saw the state of her son’s clothes. Her desire for tea and her need to break the news about their new circumstances evaporated with the rise of irritation at the damage. ‘What the bleedin’ hell have you been up to? That was a new T-shirt. That cost good money, that did.’ And a replacement wasn’t affordable – not now.

  ‘Sorry, Mum.’

  ‘Sorry? I’ll give you sorry.’

  ‘It was Zac – he tore it.’

  ‘Then he can blooming pay for it. How did it happen?’

  ‘He went for me. I was at the skatepark and he just went for me.’

  ‘Really? Just like that?’

  Ashley nodded.

  ‘And you did nothing to start it?’

  ‘Nothing, I swear. He came off worse though. He fights like a girl.’

  ‘But why? Something must have rattled his cage.’

  ‘He thought I’d told tales about him smoking pot because you know that he does and now his mum does too. How did you find out?’

  ‘More’s the point, how did you know? You’ve not been doing drugs, have you?’

  Ashley shook his head vehemently. Then he said, ‘He told me ages ago. I think he thought I’d be impressed.’

  ‘Were you?’

  Ashley shook his head again.

  ‘Well,’ said Amy, ‘I found out when I came across his stash, hidden in his room when I was giving the place a good clean.’

  ‘So that’s how you knew.’

  ‘Yeah. Master Laithwaite isn’t half as clever as he thinks he is. But I never told his mum.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I was tempted, I can tell you, but...’ Amy shrugged. ‘Well, it was none of my business and I didn’t reckon Mrs L would like me bad-mouthing her precious son. And then, if I’m totally honest, I forgot. I’ve got enough of my own worries to fuss over other people’s.’

  ‘You forgot?’

  Amy nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s not like it’s anything to do with me – or you, for that matter. Anyway, something else happened today and I need to go and see Mrs L. Maybe I’d better apologise for that an’ all.’

  ‘What else have you got to say sorry about?’

  ‘Never you mind. None of your business. I’ll pop over after supper.’

  41

  Bex finished mixing the cake and poured the mixture into two tins before she popped them into the oven and set the timer.

  ‘Good,’ she said to herself as she began to tidy up the kitchen, washing up the mixing bowls, putting the flour, eggs and milk away, wiping down the surfaces. After a while she checked on how the cakes were doing, turned them around to make sure they got an even bake and then filled the kettle and flicked the switch.

  She could hear the boys still playing their game with their cars, still engrossed in something that seemed to involved lots of crashes and excited shouts and vroom-vroom noises. Then, over the racket, she heard the doorbell ring. As she crosse
d the hall to answer it she wondered who it might be.

  ‘Oh!’ Miles.

  ‘Is this a good time?’

  Bex realised she’d sounded less than welcoming. ‘Yes, yes, come in. I’ve just put the kettle on.’

  ‘Great.’

  She led her visitor into the kitchen where the smell of baking filled the air.

  ‘Baking?’

  ‘Cakes, for the school fete.’

  ‘You got nobbled?’

  ‘You’d think that now I’ve got a stepdaughter who is in year ten I’d have learned to say no when the primary school PTA is looking for volunteers.’

  ‘Next year, maybe you’ll be more determined.’

  ‘Fat chance. I managed to get caught for the church fête too.’

  Miles laughed. ‘You’re a lost cause.’

  ‘Hopeless.’ Bex made the tea thinking that at least Miles hadn’t concurred with her self-assessment that she was hopeless – well, not out loud at any rate.

  As the tea bags stewed in the mugs she got out the cake tin and opened it.

  ‘Can I offer you a slice of Victoria sponge?’

  ‘You certainly can.’

  Bex cut a large slice for him, put it on a plate and then handed it to him with his tea.

  ‘This is very good,’ Miles said indistinctly with his mouth full.

  ‘Thanks.’ Praise indeed. She sat down opposite him.

  ‘Excellent, in fact.’

  ‘Good. Glad you’re enjoying it.’

  ‘You have hidden talents.’

  ‘Except when it comes to bar work.’

  ‘You’re doing fine.’

  Blimey, that was a change of tune. ‘Now,’ Bex added for him.

  Miles didn’t contradict her but ate some more cake. Across the corridor the boys’ game got increasingly raucous so Bex got up and shut the door. She was about to sit down when the timer went. A gust of hot air and steam wafted out of the oven door as she opened it before she reached in and extracted two cakes, baked to perfection. Expertly she got them out of the tins and put them on a wire rack.

  Miles finished his cake. ‘Now then...’ He reached down beside his chair and picked up a cordless drill. ‘About that bolt.’

  ‘Oh yes, this is so kind of you.’

  ‘Hey – I’m going to be drilling a few holes, not donating a kidney.’

  ‘Even so.’ Bex walked into the utility room and picked up a carrier bag, lying on the counter. ‘Here we go. I hope I got the right sort of thing.’ She handed the cardboard and plastic packet to Miles and he examined the contents.

  ‘I think this’ll do the job very nicely and stop Houdini making a repeat performance.’

  ‘Good. The chap in the shop said that everything needed is in the packet.’

  ‘Great. So, if you’re not planning on more baking, I’d quite like a hand with this.’

  ‘Of course.’

  The pair went out of the house and down the drive to the gate where Miles battled to release the bolt and the screws from the packaging. Finally he managed to tear off the plastic and everything sprayed out onto the gravel.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered.

  Both Bex and Miles dropped to their knees to scrabble around and retrieve the various components. Bex managed to gather up half a dozen screws and held out her hand for the pieces that Miles had found. Their fingers touched as he handed her the two main bits of the bolt and Miles seemed to let his fingers rest on hers longer than seemed necessary. Suddenly Bex felt awkward and scrambled to her feet again.

  ‘I think I’ve got everything.’ she said, trying to sound casual, and wondering if she was misinterpreting the situation.

  Miles pressed the trigger on his drill and the gadget whizzed into action. ‘Let’s do it then. Give me the bolt and I’ll fix that on first. Then we can line up the bit it slides into.’

  ‘“The bit it slides into”? Is that a technical term?’

  ‘Absolutely. Can’t you tell I’m a pro?’ He grinned at her but she was still feeling awkward so she didn’t smile back.

  Miles positioned the barrel of the bolt against the oak of the five-bar gate and drilled through the screw holes. ‘Hold it for me a sec.’

  Bex did as she was told, not looking at Miles as she did it and making sure their hands didn’t touch again as he got a screwdriver out of his pocket and began to get the screws in. Once the first couple of fixings were in place he managed on his own, with Bex handing him the remaining screws one by one. Five minutes later the job was finished.

  Miles slid the bolt across. ‘There,’ he said. ‘Job done.’

  ‘You’re a star,’ said Bex. ‘Hopefully it’ll stop the little monkey from escaping again and dropping me in the shit with the locals. Thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘I’d say I’d buy you a drink to say thank you properly, but what with running the pub and everything, I don’t suppose you’ve got the time.’

  ‘Funnily enough, Belinda and I have decided that we need help in the kitchen.’

  ‘She hasn’t mentioned it to me – although,’ added Bex quickly, ‘it’s none of my business.’

  ‘Dunno – you’re part of the team but we’ve only recently found someone so maybe Belinda was going to tell you tomorrow. And, assuming this guy can be trusted to make bacon butties unsupervised, I may have more free time but I’m not sure I want to spend it in the pub.’

  ‘Indeed.’ So that was her hand-of-friendship rebuffed.

  *

  Amy cleared away the supper things before she headed up the main road towards Olivia’s house. As she walked she couldn’t help wondering if Olivia had already spread the word about the gin incident or if she would slam the door in her cleaner’s face. She was going to find out the latter soon enough, she thought as she crunched over the gravel and rang the doorbell.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ said Olivia, when she opened the door.

  ‘I’ve come to apologise,’ said Amy.

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘Yes, I was bang out of order and you had every right to be mad at me.’ She looked her employer in the eye and waited for the ‘too-little-too-late’ comment, or for the door, as she expected, to be slammed in her face.

  ‘You’d better come in.’

  Surprised, Amy stepped inside.

  ‘Thank you for apologising,’ said Olivia. ‘It’s decent of you.’

  Amy felt even more gobsmacked. ‘Hardly, I was the one swigging your gin.’

  ‘Even so.’ Olivia walked over to the kitchen and picked up something. She came back and handed some notes to Amy. ‘I owe you this.’

  ‘No, no you shouldn’t.’

  ‘You did the work – well most of it.’

  ‘That’s not the point.’ But she stuffed the money in her bag anyway. She couldn’t afford not to.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you, anyway,’ said Olivia.

  ‘Oh, yeah, what about?’

  ‘Let’s sit down.’

  Amy still felt a little wary as Olivia led her over to the sofa.

  ‘Right,’ said Olivia, ‘two things. Firstly, I need to know how you knew Zac has a drug habit.’

  ‘I found them in his room, that time you told me to clean it.’

  ‘And you didn’t think I ought to know.’

  ‘I didn’t know what to do, Mrs L. It’s not like it’s something I’ve ever come across before and it weren’t any of my business, and you’d gone out and then, if I’m honest, it slipped my mind.’

  ‘Did it.’ Olivia sighed. ‘Never mind, water under the bridge, and I know now.’

  ‘I know you do.’

  Olivia looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  ‘Zac and my Ash had a fight. Zac accused Ash of blabbing to me about it cos Zac told Ash a while ago apparently.’

  Silence descended.

  ‘And the other thing?’ prompted Amy. She didn’t feel comfortable sitting here with her employer. It was one thing kicking back on the sofa when Olivia wasn�
�t around – that was a bit of devilry – but now she was being treated almost like a guest, Amy felt quite awkward and wanted to get home, back to her comfort zone.

  ‘Oh, yes. The thing is – and this has nothing to do with the gin – but I might have to let you go.’

  ‘Let me go?’ Nothing to do with the gin? Like buggery it didn’t.

  ‘It’s not the sack, honest,’ Olivia insisted. ‘The fact is, we’re going to have to move.’

  ‘Move?’ Gawd, she was like a parrot.

  ‘Yes, we’re downsizing – possibly to Beeching Rise.’

  ‘Bee—’ Amy stopped herself. ‘Mum said she’d seen you down there.’

  ‘Yes. The fact is we need to live somewhere smaller – we don’t need a big place like this any more and... well... we need to make some economies.’

  ‘Oh.’ Amy longed to ask about the whys and wherefores as she was consumed by curiosity but even she didn’t have the nerve. ‘When?’

  ‘I’d like to keep you on while the house is being sold – to keep it looking pristine.’

  ‘Oh.’ It was a crust she was getting thrown, she supposed, and not one she could afford to refuse. ‘OK.’

  ‘I’ll give you a good reference.’

  Which, under the circumstances, was more than she should expect.

  ‘And,’ said Olivia, ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if the new people wouldn’t want a cleaner and I’d be sure to recommend you.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘But I’d rather you didn’t mention this to anyone.’

  ‘What – that you can’t afford this place?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘As if, Mrs L. The soul of discretion, me.’

  Olivia gazed at her. ‘I know.’

  *

  Olivia leaned against the doorjamb after she’d let Amy out and wondered how she’d kept a straight face. Soul of discretion. Talk about delusional. And, dear Lord, she needed a laugh given how her day had panned out. She checked her watch; half past six and no sign of Zac. She sighed and went over to the kitchen counter and picked up her mobile. She pressed the buttons to call him. No reply. She tried again – this time it was straight to voicemail.

  ‘Zac, we need to talk. I want to help you. I know I was cross – it was the shock. Please come home.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I know I said some harsh things but I didn’t mean them. I do mean this, though... I love you, Zac.’