She walked back to Cupid’s Way, considering. What with Bob Peacock’s rag and bone business and Stig trawling the trash, it was hard to think of it as a place where people were on the up. Tim had been made redundant and still had no job; Frank and Mavis were retired and struggling to survive on their pensions. Pip and Cissy had told her the allotment wasn’t only for fun and recreation – they all needed the produce. Sarah and Zac were the only residents with proper jobs, and Evie knew that Sarah was worried about her contract at the local school.
They’d all be a lot better off if they just accepted Dynamite’s offer and moved on.
She clapped her hand to her mouth as though she’d spoken this thought out loud. Where had that come from? Talk about left-field. If she was going to be any use to her gran at all – to any of the residents – she’d have to stop allowing the slightest doubt into her mind. The residents would not be better off selling. Michael Andrews was not in the right in any way, shape or form. Dynamite Construction was a shark, and Evie’s job was to try and help save the fish from being swallowed up. She owed it to her gran to do whatever she could. She owed it to Tommy’s memory. And once Cupid’s Way was safe, she’d think of a way to help restore the street to its former glory. If they got listed status maybe there’d be a grant available. Somehow she’d make it work out.
Maybe her so-called rescuer complex was finally being put to some good use.
*
‘Evie, over here.’
Sarah Lowry was waving from the allotment when Evie came back through the gate. She collected her abandoned mug from the wall and made her way across the cobbled path. The allotment looked idyllic in the early morning sun. Sarah was digging with a long-handled garden fork, making it look effortlessly easy, while Tim hammered stakes into the freshly turned earth.
Sarah stuck her fork into the ground when Evie reached them and put her hands on her hips, tipping back from her hips to stretch. ‘I hear you were out here yesterday, doing your bit. It was nice of you to take a turn.’
Evie nodded. ‘Pip and Cissy had me on my hands and knees, though. I didn’t have the proper equipment like you.’
Sarah laughed. Tim had looked up when Evie joined them, but hadn’t made eye contact. She remembered what her gran had told her about the residents finding jobs for him to do, and had a moment of inspiration. But before she could speak she heard a door slam shut a few houses down, and Zac started up the path towards them. He was wearing his blue jeans and trademark white T-shirt, and the sun gleamed off his blonde hair, making him look polished and golden.
He reached the allotment and called out hello. Sarah looked up and smiled. She didn’t look at Zac the way she looked at Tim, Evie noticed, but Zac certainly seemed to be looking at Evie with more than just a friendly interest. She swallowed and squatted down on her heels, level with Tim. She waited until he sensed her gaze and glanced up.
She said, ‘I’m trying to get a few things started to fight this planning application, and Gran told me you might be the perfect person to help out.’
Tim put down his hammer and inspected his hands. He was wearing his overalls, but they were no longer pristine. ‘What did you have in mind?’
‘I could help,’ Zac said, leaning forward with his hands on his over-developed thighs. ‘I know loads about planning and stuff.’
‘Thanks,’ Evie said. She carried on talking to Tim. ‘I was wondering if you’d be up for a bit of research? If I’m going to apply for Cupid’s Way to get listed building status, we’re going to need to know as much about its history as possible.’
Tim nodded. ‘I could do that. I’ve got a friend who works at the city archives, I’m sure he’d help.’
Sarah clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘Evie, what a great idea. Listed building status – do you think they’ll say yes?’
‘We have to apply to English Heritage, but as far as I know the government have the final say.’
‘So nothing to do with the council?’
‘No, thankfully. Still, we need to get a wriggle on. Put together a really convincing application.’
Tim started banging in his stakes with renewed vigour. Sarah watched him, smiling.
‘This is just what we need, Evie. Something to pull everyone together.’
‘It’s a better idea than Bob’s video diary, that’s for sure,’ Tim said.
‘I heard about that from Eloise. It sounds just like him. Bonkers.’ Evie watched for Zac’s reaction to her mention of Eloise but he didn’t seem to register the name at all. Shame. Evie thought they were perfect for each other.
As were Sarah and Tim. She knew Mavis would tear a strip off her for meddling in other people’s love lives while her own was non-existent, but Evie didn’t care. ‘Maybe you two should join forces,’ she suggested, nodding from Tim to Sarah and back again. ‘Two heads are better than one.’
Sarah’s face brightened, but Tim spoke shyly without looking up. ‘It’s okay, I’ll be fine doing it on my own. Sarah’s probably too busy with work and all.’
Evie bit her lip as Sarah’s face fell. So much for her matchmaking efforts.
‘You must have a job for me, Evie?’ Zac said, planting himself in her line of vision. He was standing right in front of the low sun and Evie had to squint to look at him.
‘Well. Yes, I suppose there is something.’
‘Anything.’
‘Okay, well, we need to start looking for alternative sites. If we’re going to try and convince the council that this isn’t the right place to build their precious medical centre, it’ll really help if we can offer them a viable alternative.’
‘If there was one, wouldn’t they have gone for that?’ Sarah said, quite reasonably.
‘Possibly, but it’s still worth a try.’
Zac rubbed his hands together. ‘I’m right on it, Evie. I’ve already got a few ideas.’
Evie said thanks and started back across the gardens, suddenly remembering she hadn’t had any breakfast yet. Zac walked alongside her, matching his pace to hers.
‘Evie,’ he said when she reached her grandparents’ door, ‘I was wondering, would you like to go out sometime? For a drink, I mean.’
Evie stopped and turned around. Zac’s expression was casual, but she could see the hopeful gleam in his eyes. It would be so easy to say yes. She was single, and it had been six months since she split up with evil James. Michael was clearly a non-starter. And yet … Gorgeous though Zac was, Evie just wasn’t feeling it. She put on her best smile and gave her head a regretful little shake.
‘I’d love to, Zac, I really would. But there’s so much to do this week, getting ready for my granddad’s party and sorting out these planning objections and everything. Tell you what, why don’t we have a drink at the party on Friday?’
His face fell just a little, but he rallied well. ‘Oh, sure. That’s what I meant. At the party. That’s great.’
‘Let me know if you come up with anything,’ Evie said as he turned and walked away. ‘About the alternative sites.’
Zac stopped and grinned at her, then pointed to her legs.
‘Sure will,’ he said. ‘And by the way, you do know you’re still wearing your PJs, right? Probably all the rage in Manchester.’
Chapter 14
‘Pass me the flour, Evie. It’s up there by the sugar.’
Evie reached up into the cupboard and grabbed a heavy blue paper bag. She was helping her gran make a cake for Frank’s party, but was getting the distinct feeling she was more of a hindrance than a help. The similarity between the current cake-making situation and the one her gran had told her about last weekend was setting Evie’s nerves on edge. So far she’d dropped two eggs on the floor and overheated the milk. This was, apparently, a major disaster. But baking had never been Evie’s forte. She was completely out of her depth.
‘Not that one, that’s self-raising! Oh, for goodness sake.’ Mavis slammed the bag on the counter, causing a mushroom cloud of white flour to erupt in
her face. She turned to Evie, opening her mouth for another reprimand, and Evie burst out laughing.
‘The ghost of Cupid’s Way,’ she said, pointing at her gran’s white face. Then she stopped laughing and clamped her hand over her stupid mouth. ‘Oh, Gran. I’m so sorry.’
Mavis rolled her eyes to the ceiling and grabbed the tea towel that was hanging from the oven door. She mumbled something under her breath while she wiped her face, then pointed to the cupboard by Evie’s head.
‘The orange packet,’ she said. ‘Next to the caster sugar.’
Evie passed her the flour, and mutely put the offending self-raising back in its place. She carried on squeezing the pile of lemons on the counter, wincing when one spurted juice in her eye.
‘What’s Gramps up to today?’ she said. She wished she had a step stool to stand on – her shoulder was already starting to ache from the lemon press and she’d only done two.
‘He’s popped to the doctor’s to pick up my prescription. He’ll be back in a minute.’
Evie let the silence settle for a couple of minutes, then she said, ‘Gran, about what you told–’
‘Evie, I don’t want to talk about it.’ Mavis put down the mixing bowl and wiped her hands on the tea towel. ‘Look, I’m glad I shared my secret with you, really I am, but I feel bad about it too. I know, I know,’ she said when Evie started to protest. She took Evie’s hands off the lemon squeezer and held them between hers. ‘You’re a very understanding, very caring girl, Evie. And I love you. But I don’t want this to come between us. I don’t want it to change things.’
‘It won’t,’ Evie said.
‘It already is. You’re tense, you’re watching every word out of your mouth. How long before your granddad notices? Evie, I’ve lived with this for a long time. It’s part of who I am. But us, me and you, we’ve always had fun. Haven’t we? I’d like our relationship to stay the same. I need it to.’
Evie could understand that. She squeezed her gran’s hands and released them, then picked up another lemon. ‘I’m proper hating this cooking malarkey,’ she said.
‘That’s more like it,’ Mavis said, grinning. ‘And you’re pretty crap at it, I have to say. Your mum never did teach you anything useful.’
Evie grabbed the tea towel and flicked it at her gran’s behind. ‘I’m not that bad. I can boil an egg.’
‘You can break an egg, but I’ve yet to see you boil one during this visit.’
‘Are you saying I’m lazy?’
‘If the cap fits.’ Mavis stopped whisking and regarded Evie. ‘Speaking of your mum,’ she said, just as the front door opened.
‘Hello,’ called Frank. ‘Anyone home?’
‘Saved by the bell.’ Evie smirked and abandoned the lemons, escaping into the living room where Frank was slipping off the brand new parka Mavis had given him that morning. Evie stretched up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
‘What was that for?’ he said.
‘For being a birthday boy, of course. You look like a bloody Eskimo in that coat,’ she told him. ‘Cup of tea?’
‘In a minute. Where’s your gran?’
‘In here,’ Mavis shouted. ‘Don’t come in yet, I’m making you something. It’s a surprise.’
Frank looked at Evie. ‘Lemon drizzle cake?’ he whispered.
Evie shrugged. ‘Lemon something. What’s that?’ She pointed to a folded sheet of paper he’d pulled out of his pocket.
‘Zac gave it to me. It’s for you.’
Evie unfolded it while her granddad looked on, his expression openly curious. ‘It’s just a list of alternative sites,’ she told him. ‘What – did you think he was sending me love letters or something?’
‘He’d hardly send them via me, would he?’ Frank took the list from her and scanned it. ‘Although your gran does seem to have ideas about the two of you.’
‘Yes, I had got that impression. Well, she can think again, Gramps. It’s not happening. I’ve had enough of men to last me a lifetime.’
‘You won’t be seeing Mr Andrews again, then?’
Evie took off her stripy apron and folded it up into a square. Underneath she was wearing what had now become her daily uniform of jeans and a frayed woolly jumper. She’d stopped blow drying her hair, no longer feeling the need to keep it smooth and pristine, and had been surprised to find it dried perfectly well by itself into a nice, slightly shaggy wave. She put the apron on the sideboard and shook her head.
‘No, Gramps. I won’t be seeing him again.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Mavis came out of the kitchen, still with traces of flour in her hair but without her earlier smile. ‘Freda was asking me about you and that man this very morning. Bob’s very worried, apparently.’
Evie stared at her gran, open-mouthed. ‘Freda was what? What business is it of theirs?’
Frank was looking distinctly uncomfortable. ‘I think some of the residents are worried you might have told him something he could use against us. Something Dynamite Construction could use. To help them get the plans through.’
‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’ Evie stared at them both, open-mouthed. ‘I’m going to go round there right now and tell Bob-bloody-Peacock exactly what I think of his worries.’
‘Don’t be so silly.’ Mavis sighed and shook her head. ‘Nobody thinks you’d have said anything bad on purpose. But you have to admit, it would be better if you didn’t know him in such a … in such a personal way. Meeting up for drinks and such like. It doesn’t look good.’
‘Gran! It’s not my fault some bloke I met at a conference turned out to be public enemy number one. And I only went to meet him last Saturday because I wanted to pump him for information, not the other way around.’ Evie threw up her hands. ‘I did find out about the surveyor’s report. And that Dynamite own number three already. We wouldn’t have known about that if I hadn’t met up with him.’
‘I hate to say this, but you can be a bit naive at times. Why do you think he invited you out in the first place?’
‘Because he likes me,’ Evie said, trying not to make it sound like a question.
‘Has he contacted you since? Well, has he?’
Evie didn’t answer. There was no way she was going to admit that she’d finally given in and answered his texts earlier in the week. Or that he’d been mortified when she told him what Harry had found out. He hadn’t tried to deny it. He was still sticking to his “doing the best thing all round” story, and Evie knew he wouldn’t budge on this because he genuinely believed it to be true. And he was wrong. They were at an impasse, and there was no way around it.
Which made her doubly ashamed of the way her heart rate increased just slightly every time she heard her phone buzz. Even though it had been days since his last message.
‘I won’t be seeing him again, don’t worry. I couldn’t now, could I? Even if I wanted to.’
‘Why would you want to?’ Mavis sounded incredulous. ‘He wants to tear down our homes around our very ears.’
Evie took a deep breath. The smell of baking from the kitchen felt oddly suffocating – the lemon scent made her think of bathroom cleaner or air freshener. But it would be a beautiful cake, because cakes were Mavis’s special gift. Her way of showing her love. Evie wondered whether every cake her gran made was really for Tommy.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Haven’t we got a party to get organised. I hear some bloke around here turned eighty today. Poor sod.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Mavis said, shepherding Frank towards the stairs. ‘There’s tons to do. You need to go and have your shower, try and make yourself presentable. Evie, you need to go over and see if Cissy needs a hand with the food.’
‘It’ll take more than a shower,’ Evie called up after her granddad, who stuck two fingers up at her behind his back.
Mavis smiled and gave Evie a hug, then she shooed her out of the door.
‘Okay, okay, I’m going. Let me get my jacket on first. Are you sure you can manage without me? Who’s
going to squeeze all those lemons?’
‘Manage without you? I’ve only been letting you help because I felt sorry for you. You’re a bloody liability in the kitchen. Now go. Get out of here before I find you some proper work to do.’
*
‘Is it true you’re going home tomorrow?’
Evie was standing in the gardens holding a glass of Peacock Punch in one hand and a veggie vol-au-vent in the other. Cupid’s Way had been transformed into a magical kingdom, with fairy lights wrapped around the trees and bunting strung from house to house. The gazebo was having another outing, but this time it was draped in purple and gold fabric and filled with flickering candles. More candles dotted the gardens and a chimenea had been lit next to the benches. Sarah had brought Evie the punch, along with a warning about its potency. After only one sip, Evie knew exactly what she meant.
‘I am,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe it, to be honest. It’s gone so quick.’
‘Are you looking forward to getting back to work?’
Evie shook her head. ‘I hate my job. In fact, I hate pretty much everything about my life back in Manchester.’
Now where had that come from? Evie peered at the punch suspiciously. Maybe she should switch to wine.
‘I have the opposite problem,’ Sarah said, swilling her own drink around in her glass. ‘I love my job, but I’m not sure they love me. We were Ofsteded last month. There’s talk of teaching assistants being surplus to requirements. Apparently they’ve been under-using me.’
‘I bet you don’t feel under-used,’ Evie said.
‘No, I do not. It’s a great job, really rewarding. Totally knackering, of course.’
‘But you love it anyway.’
‘Sometimes you just find your groove in life.’ Sarah took a swig of punch, grimaced, then grinned at Evie. ‘And when you do, you do it for love.’
‘I felt like that about being an architect once.’ Evie sighed, then she checked herself. This was not a conversation she should be having right now. She scanned around for a change of subject, and noticed Tim alone next to the chimenea.
‘How’s Tim getting on with his research? Have you spoken to him about it?’
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