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The Beachside Flower Stall

Page 26

by Karen Clarke


  ‘I don’t know if it’ll fit me,’ she said, fingering the fabric. ‘I’ll just put my dressing gown on.’

  ‘No!’ I picked up the dress and thrust it at her. ‘It’s stretchy, it’ll be fine.’

  She exchanged a look with Bob, who swung his legs out of bed and into his trousers. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he said softly, buttoning up his shirt. He leaned over to place a tender kiss on her forehead. ‘Speak soon.’

  ‘Sorry, Bob,’ I said, panic building. Kate would be wondering what was taking so long. ‘It’s just that this is important.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ He raised his hand in a sort of wave. ‘I’ll be around if you need me.’

  As he left, Ruby said, ‘Carrie, who is this person?’

  She’d finally caught my urgency and was out of bed, mummified in a sheet. ‘It’s not your mum and dad, is it?’ She actually sounded as if she’d be pleased to see them.

  ‘No, but funnily enough they’re coming to visit on Friday.’ I turned my back so she could get some clothes on, and snatched a brush off the dressing table. While she adjusted the dress around her bosom, tutting about it being tight, I dragged the brush through her hair.

  ‘Ouch, Carrie, stop that, and tell me who it is.’ She grabbed the brush and lobbed it on the bed. ‘Is it Mr Hudson, about the wedding? I’ve ordered the flowers, they’ll be here—’

  ‘It’s not Mr Hudson.’ I bent down, and attempted to push a pair of red mules on her feet.

  ‘I can manage,’ she said, doing it herself. ‘My feet are a bit swollen – Carrie, what are you… hmmmpphh?’

  ‘It’s just a bit of lipstick.’ I smeared some across her cheek as she twisted her head.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done.’ She ducked her head to look in her dressing-table mirror. ‘I look like Coco the bloody clown.’

  As she scrubbed at her cheek with a tissue, I sank down on the bed. ‘I’m sorry, Ruby, I just want you to make a good impression.’

  She lowered her hand and turned to me. A look inched over her face that could only be described as terrified hope with an edge of excitement. ‘Oh, Carrie, tell me it’s true. Is it… she dropped next to me and gripped my knee. ‘Is it… is it my Donny?’

  ‘Peter,’ I said automatically and shook my head. ‘Sorry, Ruby, it’s not him—’

  ‘Then who the fifty pence is it?’ she cried, finally losing patience. ‘Is this person in my flat?’

  ‘Yes,’ called a high voice from the living room. ‘I’m here, Grandma.’

  Ruby’s jaw dropped. She clapped her hands to her cheeks, her shining eyes like marbles. ‘Grandma?’ It came out in a jagged whisper. ‘Did I hear that right?’

  I nodded, biting my lip. Bob must have let Kate in.

  ‘Oh, my darling girl.’ Ruby’s face collapsed with emotion. She reached for my hands and squeezed them, two fat teardrops spilling down her cheeks. ‘What have you been up to?’

  ‘She’s called Kate, she’s fourteen, and she’s the spitting image of you when you were her age.’ I released a hand to wipe my own damp cheeks. ‘Now go, for god’s sake.’

  But Ruby was through the door already, and the cry she gave was one of such unadulterated joy that my eyes couldn’t stop leaking tears as I followed her through, in time to see her granddaughter fall into her open arms.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ‘I think I should drive you home now, before your parents get worried,’ I said eventually, feeling like a party-pooper. It had been an emotional rollercoaster, cramming our whole lives into an hour, sustained by Bob’s milk and finger rolls, and we were all feeling drained.

  Kate had wanted to know every detail of Ruby’s life, and she’d happily obliged, trying to hold back tears when she spoke about giving up Peter, unable to stop them falling when Kate mentioned she had a little brother, Samuel.

  ‘I don’t want to leave,’ Kate said now, hugging Ruby’s arm as they sat together on the sofa. Ruby looked so overcome that I knew her life had changed irrevocably, and I felt a brief swell of happiness for her.

  ‘You can come back, once you’ve cleared it with your parents,’ she said gently, though it was obvious she’d have been happy for Kate to move in.

  ‘Can I take some pictures?’ Kate hoicked out her phone and attached a selfie-stick, and took several of herself with Ruby, looking radiant, and a couple with me in, too, and my smile was wider than I’d have expected after the last twenty-four hours.

  ‘Shall I come in with you?’ I said an hour later, parking opposite Kate’s house. The last thing I wanted was to get out and face Peter, but I was worried about Kate going in alone, and what might happen when she revealed where she’d really been. She still looked lit up, and had barely stopped talking all the way back. It was obvious from her pink-cheeked excitement there was something up, and her parents were bound to ask.

  ‘You don’t need to, I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘I’m going to tell them straight away.’

  ‘But what if they’re angry with you?’

  ‘Mum won’t be,’ she said ruminatively. ‘Dad will probably go ape, but he’ll soon calm down, and I can guarantee by tomorrow he’ll want to know everything.’

  It seemed like a lot for her to deal with. ‘But what if he doesn’t?’

  She shrugged, seeming invincible. ‘I know my dad,’ she said, with enviable confidence. ‘It’ll be fine, I promise.’

  I reminded myself she’d had fourteen years more experience of dealing with him than I had, and I would have to trust her. ‘If he wants to talk to me about anything, you have my number,’ I said. She waggled her phone. God only knew what her father would make of the photos she’d taken. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t show your dad the pictures yet.’

  She looked at me from under her fringe. ‘When he sees how happy we are, he won’t be able to resist.’

  ‘He might ban you from ever seeing her again.’

  She gave this a second’s thought. ‘He’s not going to lock me in my room,’ she said, though I had a feeling he’d wish he had once he knew. ‘I don’t think there’s anything he can do, really, and Ruby’s completely cool, so it’s not like I’m in danger or anything.’

  There was clearly no dissuading her, and I gave up trying. ‘Shall I wait here for a while, in case he wants to come and shout at me?’

  She smiled. ‘No need, cuz.’ The term prompted an answering smile. Already I wanted to introduce her to my parents and Sarah. I knew they’d love her, once they’d got over the massive shock.

  She planted a kiss on my cheek and scrambled out of the car. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ she said, as if I’d been interviewed for a job.

  ‘Good luck.’

  I watched her march to the front door, put her key in the lock and disappear inside.

  It was gone seven, and there was a light on in the house, even though the evening was still bright. I was tempted to creep up and peer through the window to check for scenes of disruption, but forced myself to start the car.

  It seemed unwise to let a fourteen-year-old girl convince me things would be fine, but as I pulled away I realised I believed in Kate.

  It was a shame that belief didn’t extend to other areas of my life.

  As I drove past the sign for Shipley, I was tempted to divert to the surgery to see if Tom was there, but what could I say if he was?

  He hadn’t been in touch since our aborted meal at the restaurant, and if Megan was right and they’d talked into the night, it meant he’d come to terms with them getting married.

  It wasn’t that I thought he was in love with her suddenly, but if he’d decided to make a go of things for the baby’s sake, perhaps hoping his feelings for Megan might grow in the process, who was I to persuade him to change his mind again?

  Although he’d confessed to having feelings for me in the past (I could barely get my head around that) it didn’t mean they still existed. Despite his frustration about what might have been, he hadn’t shown any desire to turn the clock back.

&n
bsp; No, it was best to stay away from him, until I could leave Shipley for good.

  I parked along the parade and walked in the shadow of the buildings, past the sweet shop, before crossing over to the beach, which was empty apart from some paddling teenagers, and two families embroiled in a heated sandcastle-building competition.

  The sun was setting, staining the sky orange and making a silhouette of the pier. I tried to empty my mind of everything but the view, but it was no good. Mixed up with my bittersweet feelings about Ruby and Kate was a sadness deeper than any I’d felt before; that I’d missed out on what I was certain was my only shot at love.

  ‘Bollocks,’ said Sarah, as I made my way back to the car. I’d called her on impulse, hoping her common sense would rub off and restore my sense of order. ‘There isn’t just one man for every girl, you know. It’s impossible to meet all our perfect matches, so we settle for the one that ticks the right boxes at the time.’ She paused. ‘Although, obviously, you have met more possible matches than most.’

  ‘Ha ha.’ And she didn’t even know about Toby.

  ‘Only you never give them a chance, because you’re always comparing them to Tom, but now he’s definitely out of bounds you can try a bit harder in future.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said, too weary to argue. ‘How are the twins?’

  ‘Having a sleepover at Phil’s sister’s,’ she said. ‘We’re meant to be having a date night, but we’re both so knackered we’re having an early night instead.’

  As I slumped through the door at Ruby’s, I found her on her hands and knees in the living room, a bucket of soapy water at her side, scrubbing at a stain on the carpet with a nailbrush. Little Mix was blasting from a music channel on the television.

  She looked up as I came in, her face mottled with colour. ‘Was she OK?’

  ‘She was fine,’ I shouted. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I can’t settle, so I’ve put together an album of photos for Kate’ – she gestured at an old-fashioned album on the table – ‘then I found some dye in the bathroom and sorted out my hair’ – she pointed to her retouched roots – ‘and then I thought I’d get cleaning.’ Her voice was buoyant. ‘I haven’t felt this good in I don’t know how long.’

  Crossing to the TV to turn it down, I spotted the Hollywood couple in the window opposite, having an argument. She was jabbing the air near his nose with her finger, and his arms were spread wide in a gesture of defence.

  Upset, I turned to see Ruby advancing, and before I could move she’d grabbed me in a soapy hug. ‘I still can’t believe you went to see him, but I’m so glad you did. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.’ She rocked me in her arms until I could hardly breathe.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ I gasped, when she finally released me, and summoned a smile. She looked reborn, a sparkle in her eyes, her hair bright and fluffy, whereas mine felt drab and lifeless. ‘I had a bit of help from Doris,’ I admitted.

  ‘Oh, that woman.’ Ruby waved the nailbrush, which was dripping suds on the carpet, but I had the feeling not only that she didn’t mind, but she’d wanted it to happen. Maybe Doris had been right, and Ruby had been crying out for help all along.

  ‘You know this doesn’t mean Peter will automatically want to meet you,’ I cautioned. I was sure in her mind she’d already leapt ahead to a happy reunion, but to my surprise she nodded.

  ‘I know.’ She dropped the nailbrush back in the bucket with a splosh. ‘I’ve had a long time to get used to the idea of my son not being in my life,’ she said evenly. ‘I think I might be able to handle it now.’

  I was gripped by a horrible thought. ‘But what if Kate decides not to come back?’ Ruby would be plunged back into depression, but worse than before.

  ‘My darling Carrie.’ She took my face tenderly between her wet hands. ‘Just knowing that lovely girl exists in the world, because I gave birth to her father, makes me happier than I’ve any right to be.’ An expression of wonder illuminated her face. ‘It’s enough. I mean it,’ she insisted, perhaps seeing doubt in my eyes. ‘Now, why don’t we have a drink to celebrate? There’s some wine in the fridge.’

  ‘Actually, Ruby, I think I’ll have an early night.’

  She scoured my face, eyes thinning. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Just tired,’ I said. I couldn’t bear to deflate her moment of joy by mentioning Tom, and anyway it was true. I’d experienced more emotion in the last two days than I had for years, and was craving sleep. I was even planning which app I would use to relax me – forest sounds, including the crackling of a campfire.

  Once in bed, it sent me quickly into a coma-like sleep, but I dreamt I was camping and a bear kept scratching at the tent, and when I unzipped it Megan was there, her teeth bared in a razor-sharp smile.

  I woke with a start, clawing at the air, and scrabbled for my phone. Peering bleary-eyed at the screen, I saw it was almost 6.30 a.m. Disabling the alarm, I tumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, and my nerve-endings sat up in fright when I entered the kitchen and saw Ruby. She was dressed in a loose white tunic top, baggy purple trousers and sandals, and had a money belt strapped round her middle.

  ‘Bob popped up with some fresh milk,’ she said, with the same tone of optimism from the evening before. ‘I was going to bring you a cup of tea in bed.’ She swished and dunked a tea-bag in a mug, smiling over her shoulder. ‘I thought you could have a lie-in.’

  ‘I have to get to the stall,’ I said, aware of my bed-hair and pillow-creased face.

  ‘Sweetheart, I thought it was time to ease myself back into work.’

  ‘What?’ I stared at her, jolted awake. It was unusual enough to see her upright at this time of the day, fully clothed. The idea of her leaving the flat and working at the stall was too much. I had to run her through a new filter and adjust my settings.

  ‘Come down later, if you like. It’ll be nice, the two of us there together.’

  ‘Ruby, are you sure you’re ready?’

  She dipped her chin. ‘I’ve been feeling sorry for myself, I’m not ill.’

  ‘It sort of was an illness.’

  ‘Ye-e-es,’ she acknowledged. ‘Maybe. But thanks to you I was feeling better even before last night. I’d never have been brave enough to talk to Bob, otherwise.’ Her colour rose, no doubt reacting to what else she’d been doing with Bob. ‘The very least I can do is give you a few hours off, and I’ve managed on my own before.’

  ‘If you’re sure,’ I said, doubtfully.

  She finished her tea and jiggled her stomach with her hand. ‘I’m not even hungry,’ she said. ‘I think it’s all the excitement.’

  I couldn’t help smiling as she did a Strictly-style cha-cha-cha move, and kissed my cheek on her way out. ‘Let me know if Kate calls,’ was her parting shot.

  It was odd being in the flat on my own. I doused some cornflakes in milk, cupped the bowl in one hand, grasped a spoon in the other, and wandered around while I ate.

  I paused at the window and looked out. It was quiet, patches of pale sky visible above the rooftops, which were bathed in early sunshine.

  Opposite, a door opened onto the pavement, and Hollywood man stepped out in form-hugging Lycra, Velcroing an iPod holder to his bicep. He checked a fitness band on his wrist, then set off backwards down the road, blowing kisses. I looked up to see his girlfriend craning out of the window, her tousled hair drifting in the breeze.

  Glad they’d resolved their differences from the night before, I put my bowl in the sink and looked around. There was nothing to do, and I found myself thinking of the stall; wondering how Calum was, and whether Doris might pop by with more flowers.

  It occurred to me that I might as well go and help, or I’d only end up thinking about Tom and feeling even more miserable. At this rate, I’d be the one in bed with Ruby trying to cheer me up.

  I took a quick shower, flattened my hair, and dressed in my denim shorts and another new top. Digging around in my bag for my lip balm, I remembered the scan picture Megan had d
ropped at the restaurant, and took it out. It had got a bit crumpled, and was bigger than I remembered. When I turned it over and smoothed it out, I saw that it wasn’t the baby photo; it was part of an email printout.

  Before I could process my actions, I’d read the words on it.

  I read them again, and a third time, wondering if I’d suffered a brain malfunction, then turned it over and over and read it again.

  Feeling an earthquake in my chest, I prowled the flat a couple of times, then grabbed my phone and called Jasmine.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ‘WHAT?’ Jasmine’s face was squashed up to the phone screen, her eyes big with shock.

  ‘It wasn’t her baby photo, it was her stepmother’s,’ I repeated, turning my phone and zooming in on the email printout, so Jasmine could get an idea of the words that had scored themselves on my brain.

  Dear Megan,

  We thought you’d like to see the latest scan photo. It’s a boy!! We’re so pleased after four girls, and I hope you understand why your father and I can’t make the wedding, it’s just too much at the moment, my blood pressure’s sky-high. We hope you’ll visit soon, perhaps after the baby’s born. We’d love for you to meet your half-brother and sisters.

  Love, Crystal x

  Megan wouldn’t want to visit. I remembered the way her mask had slipped when she told me her stepmother was pregnant ‘again’. She’d never got over her father ‘replacing’ her with more girls, so the fact he was having the son he’d always wanted would hardly be a blessing in her eyes.

  ‘She must have printed it out and cut the photo bit off, see?’ I said to Jasmine, shaking the piece of paper. I was still having a hard time believing it.

  ‘God, what a cow,’ Jasmine breathed, as I brought her back into view. ‘Who does that kind of thing?’

  ‘I know, it’s weird.’ I dropped on Ruby’s sofa like a chopped log. ‘She’s an attractive, intelligent woman, who could be running her own corporation—’

 

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