by CJ Morrow
Twelve
Cat and Paul arrive just after eight in the morning. I’m up and dressed, waiting for them. I answer the door with a great big smile on my face.
‘You’re up early.’
‘You said you’d be here bright and early.’
‘On your own?’ she asks, looking beyond me.
‘No.’ I wait for her to react, which she does by frowning and narrowing her eyes. So predictable. ‘Shadow’s here of course.’
‘No…?’
‘No.’ I shake my head and step aside as Paul brings in the first of the chairs.
‘I think that’s a good thing.’ She pauses. ‘Assuming that he didn’t stay overnight and skipped off early.’
‘I’m not going to answer that.’
‘Why? I’m only looking out for you.’
‘It’s none of your business.’
‘It will be when it all blows up in your face,’ Cat snaps, pushing past me to instruct Paul as to where to put the furniture.
After they’ve finished I’m relieved to see that the table and chairs are really rather nice, certainly much better than I expected. They’re wood and in the farmhouse style, the table legs have been painted off-white and there are even cushions on the seats. They straddle the line between shabby chic and naff. I’m going for shabby chic. Of the five chairs, one has arms, like a carver. I lean over and stroke the back of it, it looks very comfortable.
‘There were two of those but Mum-in-law kept one for her bedroom.’
‘Okay. Tell her thanks,’ I say, hoping that if she decides to get rid of it, I’ll get it.
‘I will, but she’ll hardly remember. They’ve been in our garage a year or more.’
‘Why did she give them to you?’
‘Lord knows. She dumps all her old tat on us. But I think I might have slipped up with this lot,’ Cat says. ‘They’re better than I remember. Really rather nice.’
‘Too late.’
I give my sister and brother-in-law the house tour before we all slump down on my new sofa with a cup of coffee each. Shadow slinks in and leaps onto my lap.
‘Shoo, shoo.’ Cat leans over and attempts to bat Shadow away.
‘She’s fine,’ I say. ‘Leave her.’
Cat shrugs. ‘Your problem,’ she says before taking a loud and noisy slurp of her coffee.
‘I’m just going to go and put the car seats back up,’ Paul says. ‘Then we’ll need to get going, Cat.’
Cat smiles her agreement and waits until Paul is out of the room.
‘So, what happened?’
‘When?’ I tease.
‘Stop it. Last night. With Ken.’
‘He was very nice and the meal was nice even though it wasn’t what I wanted.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ken insisted on choosing for me. He chose veal, not pasta.’
‘Oh no. I think that’s a bit creepy.’
‘I don’t think he meant it to be creepy, but, yeah, I wasn’t too impressed. You know how I love pasta.’ Watching how her face contorts, I realise I’m going to regret telling her; I really should know better.
‘I told you he was after you. He’s just been biding his time, waiting until a decent amount of time has passed before he makes his move. Not that seven months is very long at all. You’re going to have to let him down gently.’ She waits for me to agree and when I don’t immediately, she adds, ‘Unless you’re considering…’
‘Maybe.’
‘What? No.’
‘He’s very attractive. Very. You should have seen the waitress fawning all over him. It was almost comical.’
Cat frowns but doesn’t say anything.
‘I’ll see how it goes.’
‘Let him go,’ Cat says, standing up.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re hanging onto him because it still links you to Gollum.’
‘Don’t call him that. No I’m not.’
‘Ready?’ Paul calls from the door.
‘Yeah, just coming,’ Cat calls back before turning to me. ‘Just let him go.’
‘You’re not the boss of me,’ I say, trying not to snap.
‘No. I’m not.’ She arches her eyebrows. ‘You are.’ She marches out of the door.
‘What’s that’s supposed to mean?’ I call after her, but she’s already outside and leaping into the car. She gives me a big sister half-smile as she closes the door, then mimes eating.
‘Ken’s been a good friend to me,’ I say out loud as I slump back down on the sofa and Shadow puts her head on my lap; she’s now lying on the seat.
He has too, taken me out when I felt down, constantly reassuring me that Leeward was the loser. Telling me how beautiful I looked even when I felt ugly. He really complimented my new hairstyle, saying that dark brown and short really suited me. He even feigned happy surprise when I told him it was my natural colour. He’s been there to listen while I whined on and on about what a mess my life was. He frequently reminded me that my whole life wasn’t a mess, just one aspect of it and that would right itself eventually. And, of course, he played a part in my getting a fair pay out from Leeward when he sold his house. He’s always been there for me, and unlike Cat, he isn’t judgemental, or, if he is, only in a good, positive way.
No, says a little voice in my head, but Cat doesn’t choose your food for you, does she?
Oh, I know he has feelings for me. At first, I could delude myself that he was just trying to make up for his brother’s mess, but now, if I’m being honest, I know he likes me. Very much. No man tells a woman she’s beautiful as often as Ken does without it meaning something. I can’t remember Leeward ever telling me I was beautiful. The best he could manage was ‘all right’.
‘Shall we go out for our walk, Shadow?’ It’s nice and early so hopefully we won’t bump into anyone in the park.
At the mention of a walk Shadow leaps up and wags her tail.
It’s barely ten am when we walk through the park gates and there aren’t too many people about; the serious dog walkers have been and gone. I glance over to where Spice man sits every day and smile when I see that he isn’t there. Excellent. I’m also pleased that he seems to have somewhere to go at night – even if he does look as though he sleeps on that park bench. The sun is starting to shine, the air smells fresh, and I feel good. I also have Shadow on the new extending lead which means I don’t have to run like hell all the time.
I saunter along as Shadow scampers off and comes back and, in doing so, covers a lot more ground than when I run with her so she should be tired out before I am. Yes, I’m enjoying myself.
Life is good.
Even if I do have to go back to work tomorrow.
My parents are coming over later and Dad is going to put my TV on the wall. I think they’re bringing Grimmy too, but that’s fine because I now have a hard chair she can sit on.
It’s all good.
‘Hey,’ a voice calls from behind me. ‘Lauren.’
I hunch up, put my head down and pick up my pace.
‘Hey, Lauren.’
‘Nooo,’ I mutter under my breath. I recognise those deep tones; it’s Thor, as played by Leeward’s boyfriend, Alfie.
‘Hey, can’t you hear me?’ He’s close now, too close.
I glance over my shoulder and feel relieved when I see he’s on his own, his tiny dog tucked under his arm.
‘Oh hi,’ I say.
‘Hey. I’ve been calling you.’ He smiles his big smile. He’s wearing the brown leather coat again, the one I so admired on him the first time we met, before I knew who he was. Hey, hang on, I recognise that coat, it’s the one I tried on from Leeward’s wardrobe, no wonder it was so big. Oh. My. God. So Alfie was living there at Christmas.
‘Sorry, I was miles away.’
‘It’s getting warm, isn’t it?’ He unbuttons his coat and flaps it about to let some air in. He’s built like a brick…no don’t think it… bodybuilder.
‘On your own?’ I a
sk.
‘Yeah. Lee’s a lazy lay-a-bed. We had a bit of a sesh last night.’ He laughs. It’s deep and throaty. ‘To be honest I only got up to take this one out.’ He wiggles his mini dog about. ‘Almost pointless,’ he says, laughing. ‘Ten minutes and she’s exhausted.’
I smile and nod. Lee never laid in bed when he was with me. Quite the opposite, always nagging me if I ever wanted to sleep in.
‘I see you got one.’
I shake my head in puzzlement.
‘Retractable lead.’
‘Oh, yes. I took your advice. So much better, though this is our first walk with it.’
‘Don’t let it out too much or she’ll wrap it around trees and things, that’s what this little madam did, didn’t you?’ He lifts his dog to his mouth and kisses her nose.
‘Okay. Thanks.’ Now go away.
‘How are you settling in?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Into your new house. You’ve just moved, haven’t you?’
‘Oh, yes. Fine. Thank you.’ Did I tell him that I’d moved or did Leeward, or Kenton? Have they been discussing me? Has Leeward told him who I am? ‘What about you? Haven’t you just moved too?’
‘Yes, a while back.’ His voice is so deep it’s almost a growl. He reaches up and pushes his hair away from his face; it’s untidy and it occurs to me that he’s just leapt out of bed, pulled on his clothes and come out.
I can see why Leeward finds him so attractive.
Get a grip.
‘So how do you and Leeward know each other? Did you work together?’ Thor smiles as he speaks and shows off his lovely teeth.
‘Um, no.’ So, he doesn’t know. I watch his face as he waits for my reply, so earnest, so honest. ‘We’re old friends,’ I lie. Well, I suppose it’s not a complete untruth.
‘Cool. We should get together for drinks or something since we’re sort of neighbours, and we have our dogs in common.’ He looks a little uncertain.
Wow, what an evening that would be.
‘Did anyone ever tell you that you look like Thor, as played by Liam Hemsworth?’ Why did I ask that?
‘I think you’ll find it’s Chris Hemsworth.’ He gives me a cheeky grin. I knew that, I knew that. Oh. My. God. If he wasn’t my ex-fiancé’s lover… What? Stop. Stop now. ‘And, yes,’ he continues, the grin getting broader, ‘A lot of people say that.’
Course they do. Stupid me. Just go away, Thor.
‘Is that you?’ I ask as we both become of aware of a loud buzzing. I hope it’s an emergency and he has to run off now.
‘Oh, yes. My phone. He puts his dog down and rummages in his coat pocket, pulling out the phone and reading a message. ‘Oops, better go. His lordship is awake and wondering where I am. Come on, Daenerys, Daddy’s waiting.’ He laughs. It’s deep and throaty. ‘See you soon.’
Thank God for that. He picks up his dog and marches off, much as Thor would, taking giant strides.
It’s just the little dog that spoils the image.
I wonder what Leeward thinks of being referred to as a tiny dog’s daddy?
Taking Thor’s advice, I wind Shadow’s lead in a bit and carry on with my meander around the park. Shadow can still scamper about and use up her energy and by the time we’re almost back to where we started, she’s walking to heel and evidently tired. Then her nose goes up.
Spice man is back on his bench, his scruffy little dog between his feet.
I look around for an alternative route, a way of getting back to the gate without passing him. There really aren’t any viable alternatives unless I press myself against the bushes on the other side of the path. Shadow wouldn’t comply; I’ll have to brazen it out.
I march, keeping Shadow on the side furthest from him.
‘Morning,’ Spice man says as I pass.
‘Morning,’ I mutter without looking at him, but the little traitor stops in her tracks and, with strength I didn’t know she had, literally drags me back so she can exchange sniffs with Betty.
‘Hello, Sheba,’ Spice man says.
‘Shadow. She answers to Shadow now.’ I keep my eyes on her so I don’t need to look at him. ‘Oh, you have a proper lead now.’ A brown leather one, no less.
‘Yes. I managed to get some of my things back yesterday.’
I glance at him. Wow, what a difference, he actually looks clean, or at least his clothes do. And, though they look too big for him, they’re good clothes, not the mucky tat I’ve seen him in every day. If he hadn’t just indicated that they were his I might have thought he’d been to the charity shop, or someone had donated them to him. His hair is still unkempt, his skin is still sallow, his cheeks are horribly sunken, the kind of sunken I recognise in the very old people at work, when they’re just worn out and ready to die. His eyes are still pink-rimmed but in today’s clear brightness I can see how blue they are. And sad.
‘Cool,’ I say. How naff is that?
‘Yeah,’ he says, patting his dog.
Shadow and Betty exchange sniffs but neither of them is as excited as the last time. Fortunately.
‘Have a nice day,’ I say as I walk away.
Have a nice day, what the hell is the matter with me? Why didn’t I just add, ‘Sitting on that bench and being homeless.’ Or something equally crass.
The good thing is I’m not likely to see him again because once I’m back at work I’ll be walking Shadow early in the morning and in the evening. Spice man can’t sit here all day, not every hour the park is open, can he?
∞∞∞
Mum and Dad arrive mid-afternoon, bringing Grimmy with them so she can inspect the new sofa, the one she sort of bought.
‘It’s very nice,’ she says, her tone stilted. ‘Not that I’ll be able to sit on it.’ She glances around the room.
‘Don’t worry, I have a better chair for you.’ I rush off into the kitchen and return with the carver.
She appraises it, all her thoughts playing out on her face. There’s surprise, evaluation and finally acceptance. There’s nothing subtle about Grimmy.
She sits down and, while Mum and I chat and Dad sets the bracket on the wall for my TV, she nods off, snoring gently in the chair.
‘Seal of approval,’ Mum says, laughing.
‘Not quite,’ Grimmy says, opening one eye. ‘It’s hard. What you need is a proper armchair with a remotey like the ones I have at home and at your parents. That would definitely get my seal of approval.’ She’s talking about her riser-recliners; the one in the corner of Mum and Dad’s kitchen and the other in her own house. You press a button and it catapults you from sitting to an upright position in seconds, although it can seem like minutes. Even though the remote controls have their own special pocket in the side of the chairs, Grimmy was forever losing them, once ringing up Dad after midnight to tell him she was stuck in her chair. She’s pretty sprightly for her age but she had put the chair in the reclining position and couldn’t quite scramble out of it. After that Mum stuck them to the arms using Velcro. ‘You can get them made to measure now,’ she adds, casting a quick look at Dad, who pretends he’s so engrossed in fixing a bracket to the wall that he hasn’t heard her.
‘Okay, Grimmy.’ I really cannot imagine shelling out a thousand pounds on a chair that only Grimmy will sit in and only occasionally at that. Now she’s seen the sofa that she’s paid for I doubt she’ll come round again. Cat says Grimmy’s only been to her house four times in the last fifteen years, and then only because a family party was taking place there. Anyway, I don’t want an old person’s chair taking up room in my new home, I have enough of that at work. Nasty Lauren.
She closes her eyes and appears to go back to sleep, but you never can tell with Grimmy. Mum, Dad and I are careful to keep our voices to little more than a whisper.
‘I could have a new one at yours, Lisa,’ Grimmy suddenly pipes up. ‘Then you can have the old one here, Lauren.’
‘Okay, Grimmy.’
Please. No.
Thirteen
&n
bsp; I feel mean at the thought of leaving Shadow all day. Even though Mum has agreed she could pop round, she’s very busy today taking Grimmy for a hospital appointment, not that Grimmy wants to go because she says all doctors are charlatans. We all think this is to hide her fear that they will find something wrong with her although this is only a check-up after she had a little fall months ago, and she blames that on an errant plastic bag finding its way to the floor and tripping her up. I can’t really add to Mum’s busy day, can I? Nor trouble my neighbours quite yet.
I’m showered, dressed, breakfasted and making my lunch for work – a lot of cheese and pickle sandwiches and two small Kit Kats, super healthy me, not – while Shadow is sniffing around in the garden. It’s early and I’m leaving taking Shadow out for a walk so it’s the last thing I do before I go to work. Judging by the garden it’s quite fresh outside and overcast, so when I’ve done everything I need to, I pull on a raincoat and find Shadow’s lead.
‘Shadow,’ I call her in from the garden, but she seems reluctant to come, perhaps sensing that she’s going to spend the day alone. ‘Come on, girl.’ I jiggle her lead; that seems to do the trick.
It’s 7.30am and my street is quiet, although several of the neighbours’ cars have already gone. It’s amazing how I’m noticing this as I haven’t consciously been watching the neighbours, or their cars, I’m just aware of their absence. I set off at a pace with Shadow because I have to leave for work at 8am sharp.
We get to the end of the road and turn towards the park. I’m right in front of the gates before I realise that they’re not open; the park doesn’t open until 8am.
‘Sorry, Shadow,’ I say, under my breath. Shadow tilts her head and sits down in front of the gates. ‘Come on, we’ll have to walk the streets.’ Now doesn’t that sound comical?
After some urging Shadow trots along beside me as we march along and I can’t help peering in windows as we go, nosy me. We pass homes where children are jumping around inside, some dressed and some not and I imagine the kind of raucous chaos going on, even remember it from my own childhood. Not that I’ll ever have to worry about that.