by Fern Britton
‘Whatever you want, darling.’
As the kissing and the singing of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ gathered strength, a fusillade of rockets went up from the Cove. They were followed by Roman candles, flying lanterns, barrages and brilliant showers of diamond sparks.
*
Greer, tottering slightly after two glasses of very good Pinotage on very high L.K. Bennett heels, slipped her arm through Jesse’s. He smelled of whisky and fresh air and she surprised herself by finding him very attractive. More attractive than she had this morning, anyway.
‘Do you want to know what your anniversary present is?’ she asked him, resting her cheek on his lapel.
‘Go on then,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d forgotten.’
‘Well, you’ve forgotten mine,’ she said in a mock huff.
‘Ah well. That’s where you’re wrong. You had so much on today that I thought I’d surprise you tomorrow.’
‘Really?’ She looked up at him with the excitement of a little girl. ‘What have you got me?’ she wheedled.
‘Not telling.’
‘Give me a clue?’
‘No. But I’m getting it in the morning.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘So, what you got for me?’
‘We are going to get on the Whatsit Express and go to … Venice!’
‘Bloody ’ell, maid. That’s some bleddy ’oliday.’
‘Yes it is. Romance. Art. Museums. Architecture.’
‘Have they got any booze?’
‘Plenty.’
‘Well, that’s all right then.’
‘When are we going?
‘The weekend after next.’
Jesse frowned. ‘You’ll ’ave to put it off until after the end of the financial year. We’ve got too much on, and I’ll have to pull all the stops out if we’re to make the numbers.’
‘Oh, rubbish,’ Greer said. ‘You can manage a few days off, surely?’
‘I can’t. You’ll just have to give them a call and re-arrange the dates.’
The drink had made Greer argumentative. ‘I will not. I’m always making sacrifices for you and that company. For once, can’t you put me first?’
Jesse felt a dangerous darkness descend. ‘Put you first? I’ve always put you first, Greer. You, your family, the bloody business – and I’ve never complained.’
‘You have no right to complain.’ Greer was fired up now. ‘My daddy gave you everything you’ve ever had. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be just like any other fisherman down at the harbour: small time. Clovelly Fisheries have given you everything.’
As soon as the words left her mouth, Greer regretted saying them. The look on Jesse’s face was like nothing she had seen before.
He regarded her coldly. ‘Small time, was I, Greer? Not so small that you didn’t follow me around like a dog, grateful for any scraps that I threw in your direction.’
Greer drew a gasp at the words and put her hand to her mouth, but Jesse couldn’t stop himself. ‘Where would you be if it weren’t for me, Greer? Who would have married a stuck-up self-important frigid cow like you – you weren’t my first choice, you know that, don’t you?’
Greer rallied. ‘Oh, that’s right, Jesse Behenna, babe magnet. You’d screw any old scrubber down at the sheds. You’re lucky to have someone like me. You couldn’t even boil an egg without a mother or a wife to do it for you!’
Jesse was just about to let rip in response when Mickey and Loveday came up to say goodbye and thank them for a nice evening. Both Greer and Jesse clammed up immediately and Loveday and Mickey couldn’t help but sense the tense atmosphere.
‘We’re just off now, but wanted to say thanks for a lovely evening.’ Loveday gave her friend a huge hug and Greer responded with a tight smile.
‘Yeah, thanks, mate – here’s to the next twenty years!’ laughed Mickey, and drunkenly clapped Jesse on the back.
Jesse shook Mickey’s hand as Greer went off to find another drink.
‘Bye, Jesse,’ said Loveday, and gave him a peck on the cheek.
‘Twenty years,’ said Jesse, and held onto her for just a moment too long before they departed.
31
A week later
‘Oh, Greer, it’s lovely.’
Loveday was sitting in the passenger seat of the new 4x4 that Jesse had given Greer as her anniversary present. ‘I could’ve done with one of these when the kids were small.’
Greer was reversing down the steep hill where Loveday and Mickey lived. ‘Have I got enough room your side?’
Loveday checked the wing mirror. ‘You’re fine.’
Greer got to the bottom of the hill without a scrape and put the car into drive. ‘Here we go.’
The big car was cumbersome and Greer didn’t really like it, but Jesse had meant well when he bought it for her.
The morning after the row, nothing had been said. Jesse was up early and Greer heard him call from the bathroom, ‘Where are the paracetamol?’
Smiling to herself she called back, ‘On the third shelf of the cabinet.’ She paused, then added, ‘Would you bring me some, please?’
Greer wasn’t much of a drinker, she didn’t like losing control, and she and Jesse’s argument had left her feeling very churned up and emotionally exhausted, but all of that seemed to be forgotten when Jesse presented her with the 4x4. She’d thanked him and spoken to the travel company, and now she and Jesse would be going to Venice in April. They’d never had such a bad row before, and Greer thought the break would do them both good; they’d had a lot on their plates and tensions were bound to be high.
She had nodded and smiled appreciatively as he had shown off the walnut dashboard and in-car entertainment system. ‘Even has a reversing camera, so you can’t have any excuses for kerbing the wheels.’ She laughed dutifully and spared a thought for Loveday; Mickey would probably take Loveday and the kids to Wetherspoon’s for their anniversary. Mind you, Loveday would probably love it, Greer smiled to herself.
Jesse was still talking. ‘I thought it would be useful when you’re carting all that stuff about to your houses.’
‘Carting my stuff?’
‘All those fancy cushions and books of wallpaper that your rich people like to look at. And your scrapbooks.’
‘Mood albums,’ she corrected.
‘Whatever. Anyhow, I thought a nice big car would be useful … and when you’re not using it I can borrow it for fishing or—’
‘So you bought it for yourself?’ The old resentment started to flourish.
‘You didn’t buy a trip to Venice solely for me, did you?’
He had her there, and so she kissed him and neutralised the negative turn the conversation had taken and thanked him for such a perfect present.
Today, she and Loveday were making use of the car for a trip to the sales in Bristol.
‘I feel so high up,’ Loveday said, settling into her leather seat. ‘We’ll be in Bristol in no time.’
‘I’m glad of your company.’
‘I like a bargain. The girls have given me a list of stuff they want me to get. As if they didn’t have enough already at Christmas!’
‘I’m hoping to pick up a lovely little Turkish Kelim for a client and also get some curtain fabric for the Liskeard people.’
‘Ain’t that job finished yet?’
‘I got most of it done in time for Christmas, but now they’ve decided they want the tall window on the stairs to have curtains. They don’t need them. The light it throws onto the panelled walls is a clever piece of design by the architect back in the 1680s, but they think the sun is too bright and, if they want to have curtains, they shall have curtains. At least I talked them out of Venetian blinds.’
‘You’m clever, Greer.’
‘Well, I can’t do what you do.’
‘It’s only tallying the books,’ said Loveday self-deprecatingly.
‘Oh, yes, that’s easy enough, what I mean is, I couldn’t sit in that soulless building that Jesse loves so much, with all t
hose dull people, doing the same thing day in day out.’
Loveday frowned. ‘They’m not dull people. They’re my friends. And if it wasn’t for them you wouldn’t have a car like this.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Greer said. ‘I think it’s wonderful that some people enjoy mundanity. Whereas I have to be creative.’ She glanced at her friend and smiled. ‘How are your upholstery classes going?’
Loveday had turned her face to look out of the window so that Greer couldn’t see her annoyance. ‘OK.’
Greer sensed that she had gone too far. ‘Good.’
She drove on for a few minutes, neither speaking. Then, to ease the tension she said, ‘Shall I put the radio on?’
*
‘What a day.’ Greer was in her kitchen and shrugging out of her coat. ‘Loveday insisted we went into Ikea. God, what a dreadful place. Nothing in there will stand the test of time. Put the kettle on, would you?’
Jesse did as he was asked. ‘How did the car go?’
‘Lovely. The boot is full. I bought much too much but some of the fabric was at such a good price, and classic patterns, that I thought it was an investment, really.’
‘Where would you like your tea?’
‘Shall we sit in the library?’
‘You can, I’ve got to go back to the office. Got some stuff to finish off for the accountants.’
‘Will you be home for dinner?’
‘Probably not.’
*
The building was warm and silent. He made himself a mug of coffee in the tiny office kitchen and went to his office. Lauren, as always, had prepared his desk for the next day. His bin was empty and his laptop was charging.
He logged on and opened the files he wanted. He read the first page and then the next. He found it brutally boring. He tried again. But again he could not concentrate.
He gave up and spun his chair so that he could look at the view through the glass. Trevay lay peacefully beneath him. His mind wandered as he looked at the familiar streets and buildings. There was his old school, with its memories of Greer, Mickey and Loveday. The church where he’d got married and where Louisa lay next to his grandfather.
The sheds where he and Loveday had made love.
The harbour where his boats were bobbing, tied up against the wall.
The shelter where Grant had died.
No, he mustn’t think about Grant. He looked again over the rooftops of Trevay. Now he could see Grant smoking at the school gate.
Grant hiding in the yard outside the sheds watching him and Loveday.
Grant lying in the churchyard.
Grant sitting in this office.
Jesse hated these thoughts. He’d had them on and off since Grant had died. If he was strong enough, he could make them go away. And they would go away, but tonight they were real and sharp. Why didn’t bloody Grant leave him in peace?
Jesse went to the office kitchen and filled the kettle to make another cup of coffee.
He heard what sounded like the lift, whirring its way up to his floor.
Was that the lift he heard?
He stepped out of the kitchen and listened.
Yes. The lift, definitely.
Who would come into the office at this time?
Had he locked the front door?
He couldn’t remember.
He stepped back into the kitchen, turned the light off and stood very still.
The lift stopped.
The doors opened.
He heard the rustle of clothing as someone got out and started walking towards his office.
He could hear his breathing.
He could hear their breathing.
When he judged that they were almost adjacent to the kitchen doorway, he leapt out, shouting a huge roar.
The woman screamed, dropped her bag and ran back to the lift.
‘Loveday,’ said Jesse, running after her. ‘Loveday. ’Tis only me.’
She stopped running and he could see the fear on her face. ‘Jesse.’ She was breathless. ‘What the bleddy ’ell you do that for?’
‘I thought you was a burglar.’
‘Well, I’m not.’ She started to giggle. ‘You’m bleddy frightening when you shout like that.’
‘I meant to be. Anyhow, serves you right for sneaking up on me.’
‘I was not sneaking. I came in to make sure I had all the documents you’ll need for the accountant tomorrow and found the front door unlocked. I thought it would be you. I saw your office lights on, so I came up to say hello. Got the bleddy fright of my life instead!’
‘Sorry. Want a coffee?’
‘I need a bleddy brandy.’
‘I’ve got some whisky?’
‘No, you’re all right. Give us a coffee, I’ll get the papers you need and I’ll be off home.’
*
Loveday took her coffee down to her ground-floor office and soon became absorbed in answering emails and checking her diary for the week ahead. The phone on her desk rang, startling her. She looked at her watch and saw that an hour and a half had gone by. It must be Mickey.
‘Hi, Mick. Sorry I’ve been so long. I’m on my way now. Shall I pick up some fish and chips or have you and the kids eaten?’
Jesse’s voice replied, ‘No, I haven’t eaten yet, but I’d love fish and chips with you.’
Loveday laughed. ‘Oh, sorry, Jesse. I’m just emailing the stuff up to you now.
‘What would I do without you? Did you put the spreadsheets in?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you. The accountants always love a spreadsheet.’
Loveday had the receiver between her shoulder and her chin as she tried to put one arm into the sleeve of her coat. ‘Well, I’ll be off, if there’s nothing else you need.’
‘No, that’s fine,’ said Jesse. ‘See you tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, see you tomorrow.’
‘Oh … er, Loveday?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Fancy that glass of whisky before we shut up shop for the night?’
‘Erm …’ Loveday looked at her watch again. ‘As long as I’m home in the next hour.’
‘Just ten minutes. Come up to my office.’
*
‘What a view you have from up here. Never seen it at night before. You must be almost as high as St Peter’s steeple.’
‘Not quite.’ He handed her a tumbler of Scotch. Loveday noticed that inroads had definitely been made into the bottle, and she thought that Jesse looked a little flushed. ‘Sorry, no ice. Cheers.’ They clinked glasses.
‘Cheers,’ said Loveday.
Jesse continued. ‘The planners were very strict with us. They made it clear they didn’t want us to “impede the view”. Which is why we made it pretty much entirely of glass.’
He sat down behind his desk and Loveday sat opposite him. Two old friends comfortable in each other’s company.
‘I like your Greer’s new car.’
‘I don’t think she does.’
‘Yes, she does. She was loving filling it with all her knick-knacks.’
‘By knick-knacks do you mean the very latest on the front line of the style war that is raging across the land, in houses that are too big and too expensive, lived in by people who have more money than sense?’
Loveday giggled. It had been a long time since she had had her sushi lunch with Greer and the whisky was leaking warmly into her veins. ‘That’s very unkind of you.’
‘But true.’ Jesse motioned at the bottle of Scotch. ‘Just a little one for the road?’
‘Just a little one.’ She watched as Jesse poured. ‘But your house is beautiful, ain’t it? Greer has done a wonderful job. It’s so welcoming and comfortable. I’m not house-proud like that,’ said Loveday, taking her shoes off and rubbing one foot against the other. ‘With my three and Mickey it’d be like King Canute trying to keep the tide from flooding in.’
Jesse leant forward on the desk. ‘How is Mickey?’
�
��He’s great. Loving his job. Loving working with Hal and teaching him the ropes like his dad taught him. I tell you, we Chandlers have got a lot to thank you Behennas for.’
Jesse leant back again and relaxed into his chair. ‘Our dads were all mates, weren’t they. It’s keeping up tradition. Mickey is my best mate. Hal is Freddie’s best mate. And so it will go on, as long as Trevay has a fishing industry.’
Loveday nodded her agreement. ‘And don’t forget the Clovellys. Without Greer’s side, neither of us would be sitting in this office drinking whisky.’
Jesse turned his chair to look at Trevay again. ‘You’re right. Mick and I would be working our arses off up at the sheds.’ He sat thinking for a few moments. Loveday shut her eyes, giving in to the whisky, but not to her memory of her and Jesse in the sheds.
Jesse broke the silence. ‘I miss those days. Just me and Mickey. You and Greer. No kids. No responsibilities.’ She heard the faintest squeak as he spun his chair back to her. Her eyelids were heavy and she didn’t have the energy to open them.
‘I wish I’d have married you.’ He said the words boldly into the still air between them.
She sat still, eyes still shut.
‘Did you hear me?’
‘Yes.’
‘We’d have been happy.’
‘Stop it.’
‘I know we’d have been happy. That night. In the sheds. When it was snowing. You made me so very happy.’
She opened her eyes and looked at her hand holding the whisky glass. ‘Don’t talk about it. I don’t even think about it.’
‘Don’t you?’ He leant forward again across the desk.
‘No.’
‘I don’t believe you. I was your first and you and I were happy that night.’
‘We were pissed. And I think you may be a bit pissed now.’ Loveday stood up and put her glass down. ‘I’m off home. To Mickey.’
Jesse stood up and walked round the desk, blocking her path. ‘I’ve never stopped loving you, Loveday.’
‘You love Greer.’ She sidestepped him but he was too quick for her.
‘Kiss me,’ he begged.
She leant forward and kissed his cheek. ‘Night night, Jesse. See you tomorrow.’
She collected up her coat and bag and walked out of the office without a backward glance.