‘Maisie’s upstairs, shall I?’
‘No, no, Charlie,’ this was harder than she’d thought. ‘We need to talk.’
‘That sounds ominous. Josie?’
‘Josie.’
‘I don’t want her to alter things between us, Luce.’ He stepped closer, cupped her face in his hands and those big brown eyes were nearly the finish of her. Those big brown eyes that were so like Maisie’s.
‘I know.’ She knew her voice was barely more than a whisper, partly because she didn’t want to say the words, partly because she didn’t want Maisie to hear. ‘But she has done. Charlie,’ she shook her head as he opened his mouth to speak, ‘we’ve got the rest of our lives to sort this out. You and Maisie have only got now, right now.’ Hard tears prickled at her eyes, and when he opened his arms she threw herself against him to hide the hurt. She wrapped her arms round the firm, familiar body and forced herself to finish off her little speech. ‘If we’re not seeing each other all the time, then Maisie won’t be talking to her mum about what we’ve been doing.’
‘But she loves you, Lucy, I love you.’
‘She’ll see me at school, Charlie. I’m sorry, I really don’t … Malcolm was right, we’re only going to make this worse and it’s already bad enough. I’m sorry, I …’ She pushed herself away from his chest and made for the door, her sight blurry, a sharp pain in her chest. They’d sort this out after, they’d work it out when it was all sorted, she had to believe that. Piper was at her heels as she burst out of the door, and the cold air made her face smart. Then she was running, down the farm track, down the lane, ignoring Charlie’s shout. If she turned round now, if she looked into his face, she’d change her mind.
By the time she’d got home Lucy was totally drained, and was really tempted to ignore her ringing phone, climb into bed and bury her head under the covers. Instead she picked it up, because if she had one person in the world that she wanted to talk to right now, it was her mum.
‘Hi Mum.’
‘Everything okay, darling?’ She could almost hear the frown in her mother’s voice.
‘Fine.’
‘Lucy!’
‘It’s Charlie.’ There was a crack in her voice as she said his name. She swallowed. She had to pull herself together. This was temporary. They were good together, they loved each other. Things would work out. ‘We, well we thought we better have a break.’
‘Is this to do with that Josie? It is, isn’t it? Oh Lucy.’
‘It seems best.’ She gulped back the tears. ‘Just until things are sorted.’
‘Well you have to do what seems best, love, but you can’t let that woman ruin …’
‘I won’t, Mum.’
There was a long silence, and for a moment she thought the connection had been broken. ‘I’m coming over.’
‘But …’
‘I was thinking about coming over anyway. I spoke to Elsie yesterday.’
‘Did you?’ Lucy jumped on the chance to talk about something other than her and Charlie.
‘I’ve been calling her once a week since I came over, it gives her something to look forward to. I mean I know you call in, and Jim does, her conversation is all about the two of you, and I know a lot of the other villagers keep an eye out, but there’s no harm in one more, is there? And I’m worried about her. She seems breathless, wheezy.’
‘It probably didn’t do her any good being at the bonfire, but you know what she’s like, nobody could tell her not to.’
‘And they shouldn’t. It’s her whole life, Lucy, Langtry Meadows is her home, her family and she needs to be involved. But I really think she needs to see a doctor and make sure that she’s not developed pneumonia. In fact, I’ve got a few days leave owed me, so I was thinking of coming down there tomorrow. I know it’s a busy time for you at school so I can help with the animals, I do love that little pig of yours, Pork-chop isn’t it? And the chucks, I used to want some hens of our own, but your dad wouldn’t have the mess …’
Trish’s voice tailed off, and brought a rush of memories back for Lucy, setting her resolve. No way would she let Maisie have the childhood she’d had.
‘Then we didn’t have space at the new house, or the time, but it’s nice to do it now.’ She paused for breath. ‘You know I’m here for you darling, don’t you?’
Lucy nodded, then realised her mother couldn’t see it. ‘I do.’
‘Right love, well I won’t get in your way, I know you’re busy, but I’ve bought these little cushions for your cottage, I know it isn’t all signed and sealed yet, but I couldn’t resist.’
Lucy smiled, and rubbed her smarting eyes. ‘Thanks, Mum.’ Whatever happened, she had moving in to Jasmine Cottage to look forward to.
‘Well that’s sorted then, lovely, I can’t wait. I’ll give Elsie a quick ring and tell her she’ll be having a visitor in the next few days. Oh, you have cheered me up, love. And don’t you worry, you and Charlie will sort things out and the little mite will be fine.’
Chapter 16
‘We need a donkey, a cow and some chickens.’ Lucy topped up Sally’s glass with white wine and sank back down into the chair, which promptly swallowed her. Once you were in the very worn seat it was useless to argue. It wrapped itself around you, and you just submitted and stayed there. Right now though its soft embrace was very welcome.
It had been a long week, with the initial rehearsals for the Christmas nativity performance taking up a big part of each day, but it felt like the days were slipping by far too fast.
‘You look knackered.’
‘I am.’ Maybe she’d just stay in this chair for ever. Well at least until after Christmas. ‘There’s just so much more to do. All the kids are getting hyper now, which doesn’t help when you’re trying to get them all to sing Away in a Manger at roughly the same time and vaguely in time to the music.’
She’d actually been reluctant when Jamie had asked if she could ‘get Sal out of our way for the evening’. It wasn’t actually a hardship drinking wine with her friend, but she’d quite like to be in her pyjamas, in bed. She stifled the yawn, and tried to be entertaining. If she wasn’t careful, Sally would be dashing off to find her new husband, and she’d be in trouble. ‘I had Poppy just opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish, Sophie bellowing because her mam told her she had to sing loudly, and Harry improvising with his own words.’ She sighed. ‘He’s always seemed so sweet and cute, but he’s morphed into a real cheeky monkey since he went into Class 2, who knew that the real words were Away in a manger, no crisps for a bed?’
Sally giggled.
‘And Jill swore that the little Lord Jesus became the little Malteser at one stage, I blame the twins for that one.’
‘Nothing like a bit of improv. That old stuff is overrated anyway.’
‘That’s what they reckoned at Starbaston.’ Lucy knew she was rolling her eyes, the school she’d taught at in Birmingham had a totally different take on what Christmas was all about.
‘No chickens and cows I bet either?’
‘Oh God no, it was totally different, the whole traditional nativity thing was a complete no-no.’
‘So you didn’t have one?’
‘I wish. We had to do something politically correct that had nothing at all to do with Christmas.’
‘No baby in a manger then?’
‘There was more chance of getting rap dancing Daleks than any reference to baby Jesus, it was usually something so bloody weird it confused the teachers as well as the kids. But the music was always loud and monotonous enough to keep a lot of the kids entertained, though the quiet ones would end up quivering at the back.’
‘Rap?’
‘Rap.’ She nodded. ‘Or some kind of street-dancing stuff.’
‘That would be so cool to do here, can you imagine what the parents would say? Oh you should do it, Luce, you should so do it. I dare you!’
She giggled. ‘I’m sure Sophie’s mam would tell me that’s not the way they do things ro
und here. Elsie thinks the Morris Dancers are a bit too noisy, can you imagine what she’d have to say about it? There was one big plus though – I didn’t have to worry about flaming costumes, they’re already starting to give me a headache.’
‘I thought they always dug out the same old stuff?’
‘They did. Until Liz Potts decided the moths had been at them, and it would be a bit unfortunate if posh George recognised anything from when he was at school.’
‘Ah. So you’ve got them making their own?’
‘You’ve got it.’
‘Should be interesting, you’ll probably get some of them dressed in feed sacks and the others in curtains.’
Lucy grimaced at Sally. ‘I’ve already got visions of having to stay up all night making the flaming costumes myself. Although Jill reckons once they get used to the idea they’ll get all competitive.’
‘They’re bound to. Just think what it’s like at the village show now, nobody just makes plain strawberry jam, it has to have jalapenos and a hint of chocolate in it now.’
‘That banana and marshmallow cake I had at the summer fete was interesting.’ Piper jumped onto her knee and licked her nose.
‘Exactly. Well the animals won’t be a problem, you’ve got chickens, more than enough.’ Sally grinned. ‘What did Annie think when you told her the brood was bigger than when she left?’
‘She laughed. Apparently Squeak does it most years, well she’s not called Squeak, she’s called Emily Bronte. The one I call Bubble is in fact Charlotte, and Anne came to a nasty end last year.’
‘I think Bubble and Squeak suits them better. The cow isn’t a problem, Matt or Jamie can soon sort that one, but the donkey has always been a bit of a pain.’
‘So I’ve heard.’
‘They did try goats and sheep one year, but the sheep wouldn’t stop baa-ing, it drowned everything else out. And the goats climbed the pews. Then Daisy decided to tell them off, which was pretty hilarious before they high-tailed it off down the aisle knocking the crib over and trampling poor baby Jesus. Half the kids were wailing cos Jesus had died prematurely, Poppy was hysterical because it was her doll and Timothy downed his hidden hip flask in one and promptly keeled over nearly ending up in the font.’
‘You’re really selling this to me,’ Lucy said drily.
Sally giggled. ‘You’ll love it. The cow usually manages to drool all over the decorations.’
‘Why on earth do they have it in the church?’
‘Only chance the vicar has of a full house. Then we all go into the square for the rest.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘It’s a bit of a pain really, Jamie and Matt seem to have got roped into sorting the lights and all sorts out so he’s going to be no fun, and you and Jill will be busy with the kids.’
‘But we’ll all be finished by, I dunno 7 or 8 p.m.? Then it’s up to Santa Claus Jim to entertain the kids, and Timothy and Elsie will be looking after George, so we can have fun, can’t we?’ Lucy decided distraction tactics were in order. She knew Sally accepted that being married to a farmer meant life wasn’t always easy, but she’d obviously been looking forward to the Christmas festivities and was now not at all happy that her new husband, and all her friends, were going to be tied up for a fair part of the evening. ‘You can keep an eye on my mum,’ Lucy grinned, ‘you know what she’s like after a glass of mulled wine.’
Sally smiled. ‘Where is she tonight?’
‘Oh, she said she’d go and see Elsie. They get on really well you know, she spends more time there than here. And,’ a sudden thought had come to Lucy, ‘You can look after the animals!’
‘Haha, very funny.’
‘No, honestly.’
‘I thought Charlie …’
‘Charlie will be acting the part of proud parent, he’ll only have eyes for Maisie.’
‘I’m sure in Elsie’s pictures it was all set up in the square.’ She wriggled her way out of the chair, and grabbed the photograph album. ‘Look.’
With Elsie Harrington’s permission, Lucy had taken some of the photographs from her album and showed them to the children.
One thing she loved about working in the village school was how cleverly Timothy Parry wove together a modern vision, and a willingness to embrace a nostalgic nod to the past. He recognised the importance of the community, of the children knowing their roots, but he didn’t let it stop him moving the school and the inhabitants of Langtry Meadows forward at quite a march when it suited him. Lucy loved him, she couldn’t imagine what they would do when he retired.
She’d scrutinised the pictures ever since Elsie had lent her the album. Taking in the familiar outlines of the faces that would mature and become the Jim Stafford, George Cambourne, Edward Wright and Timothy Parry she knew today – searching for the familiar features of Elsie in one of their faces and feeling constantly frustrated. It could be any of them, or none of them.
‘Aww now isn’t he the cute little angel.’ Jill had pointed at one of the pictures. ‘You can see where Ted Wright gets his looks from can’t you?’ She’d laughed. ‘And I bet his dad had all kinds of wildlife stuffed in his pockets too.’
‘Charlie said his dad told him that one day Ed thought he’d got foot and mouth and hid in the fields, the whole village was out searching for him.’
‘You’re kidding? So Charlie’s dad is on here too?’
‘That never occurred to me.’ Lucy had squinted at the photo, searching for familiar features and failing miserably. ‘He must be. Or he could be a bit older than this lot, I think he is actually.’
‘You’re trying to spot somebody who looks like Elsie, aren’t you?’
‘I am.’ She’d sighed and pushed the photograph away. ‘I’m rubbish at it though, I’m just beginning to think everybody could be.’
Jill had laughed. ‘Come on, the kids will be in from break in a minute and we’ve got to walk them down to the church to rehearse.’
Lucy had tried not to groan, she’d been dreading the idea of their first session in the church, with the vicar looking on. ‘We’ll show them these first.’
Sally leafed through the album. ‘Oh God, look at that.’ She suddenly stopped and chortled, poking at one of the pictures. ‘Timothy looked like a teacher even when he was in short trousers. I wonder if Elsie’s got any stuff from when my parents were kids? My mum and dad were childhood sweethearts, they’re holding hands in every single photo I’ve seen of them,’ she pulled a face, ‘even when they were five years old.’
Lucy smiled. ‘Sweet.’
‘Soppy more like.’
‘So how’s married life?’
Sally’s grin said it all, as she put the book to one side. ‘We even told Mum when we all went in the Taverner’s on Bonfire Night, and she wasn’t anywhere near as mad as I thought she’d be. Though we had to agree to a first anniversary party next year. But that’s way off, I’ve got plenty of time to plan how to get out of it. We had to tell really cos Eric said Jamie could move into the flat, and you can imagine what people would have said.’
‘So, it’s all out in the open now?’
‘It is.’
‘And you’re happy you did it that way?’
‘Oh God, yes.’
‘You didn’t miss having a party?’
‘Well,’ Sally shrugged, but Lucy was sure she detected the very slightest hint of regret, ‘we’re always celebrating something or other in Langtry Meadows anyway, there’ll be a massive piss up after this Christmas thing. You should see Elsie once she’s hit the mulled wine, I caught her line-dancing one year although she completely denied it afterwards.’
‘Line-dancing?’ Lucy tried not to laugh.
‘It always turns into a bit of a shindig at the village hall afterwards, when everybody is sick of freezing their fingers off. It’s only round the corner so they set up a bar in there.’
‘I could be the one asleep in the corner.’
‘Rubbish, after a couple of Matt’s special mulled wines you’ll be up for anything
!’
‘Matt makes the mulled wine?’ Now she was worried.
Sally laughed. ‘He doesn’t make it, he sneaks half a bottle of brandy in it when nobody is looking. You look like you need one now.’
‘I will be so glad when this term is over.’ She wriggled her toes, her feet seemed to be permanently aching these days.
‘Right, I’m off, you need to go to bed.’
‘But it’s not late …’ What if Jamie hadn’t done everything he needed to? He’d given Lucy strict instructions on keeping Sally occupied until him or Matt gave her the all clear.
Keeping quiet about Sally’s wedding had been easy, compared to trying not to spill the beans about Matt and Jamie’s top secret surprise. It would be a miracle if Sally didn’t discover what her husband was planning for her. This grand romantic gesture could be the death of her, and if she wasn’t so fond of Sally she’d never have allowed the brothers to rope her in.
‘Jamie just text,’ Sally looked apologetic, ‘he was asking where I was.’
‘Really?’ Lucy laughed, hoping she didn’t sound too relieved. ‘You go, can’t get in the way of a pair of newlyweds, can I?’
‘You don’t mind do you? I know it’s still quite early.’
‘Of course I don’t mind, you noddle. And for a school night this is way past my bedtime. I just hope Mum isn’t too late back, honestly she’s like a teenager.’ Lucy smiled to herself. Her mum was happier than she’d ever seen her, in fact the only long-distant memory she’d got of her this carefree was when she was little, very young. Before things had all gone wrong. ‘I think it’s doing Elsie the world of good too, she seems much more her old self even if she still looks slightly older and slightly sadder.’
‘Well maybe she’ll confide in your mum about this mystery child if they get on so well.’
‘Maybe.’ Lucy crossed her fingers. ‘She did promise me she’d tell him soon.’
‘Well she will then.’ Sally leaned in and kissed Lucy’s cheek. ‘Elsie Harrington is old school, she wouldn’t dream of breaking her word. Night Lucy.’ She pulled the door open. ‘And stop worrying about everything, honestly you’re getting worse than Charlie!’
Coming Home to Jasmine Cottage Page 16