Tess reached The Blue Olive, turned and pushed the door open with her bottom.
‘What’s the matter?’ Holly asked, noticing Tess’s expression. ‘Isn’t it in?’
‘Front page.’ Tess dropped the papers next to the till.
‘What’s the problem, then? Let me see.’
The headline stood out in large bold letters. DON’T MESS WITH TESS.
Underneath the headline was the picture of Tess. She was wielding Heat magazine and grimacing with menace.
Tess groaned. ‘I’ll never be able to show my face in public again.’
Chapter Thirteen
As the week progressed, Tess’s flush of embarrassment receded. New headlines had replaced hers and the photograph had now been relegated to recycling piles across the county. She was relieved that the paper hadn’t been printed nationally and only to one small area of the country.
Evening light seeped through the window, dimming the colours in the lounge as Tess lay sprawled across her settee, relaxing in front of the television. A reporter on East Midlands Today was interviewing a local farmer about the difficulties of farming today. Tess was listening intently to the red-cheeked farmer while he explained how he’d set up his own fruit and vegetable shop on his premises.
Seeing boxes of fruit, Tess was reminded that she’d meant to pick blackberries from several huge bramble bushes growing alongside the village green. If she didn’t do it this evening before the forecast of several days of rain, she’d be too late. Hauling herself up from the comfortable cushions, she slipped on her shoes and grabbed a Tupperware bowl.
The sun was slowly sinking, the green stretched before her and Halston looked bewitching. The village was bathed in an orange glow, as if viewing it through a Quality Street toffee penny wrapper.
Tess began picking blackberries. Every time she pricked her finger, she rewarded herself with a delicious sweet mouthful. She hadn’t made Blake a pie or crumble for a couple of weeks now, so this would be perfect for Sunday lunch. He was visiting his mother this evening and then meeting a colleague in town for a drink. She wondered how his mother was coping with the knowledge that her son was ill. Her name was Joy, which seemed ironic. Tess had never met such a joyless woman. They weren’t close, mainly due to Joy’s jealousies and interference, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on Blake’s mother.
She continued to pick blackberries while humming contentedly, until footsteps made her jump and swing round suddenly.
‘Is it safe to speak? You promise not to whack me with a magazine?’
That smile again. Daniel stood in front of her with his arms raised in mock surrender. Despite her hammering heart, Tess managed to speak calmly.
‘Please, don’t remind me. Why do you think I waited until it was dusk to come out?’
Daniel laughed. ‘It wasn’t so bad. I recognised you.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a compliment?’
Daniel smiled then suddenly looked more serious. ‘Are you okay, though?’
‘Yes, I’m fine thanks. Just a bit jumpy. When I heard your footsteps…’
‘Sorry, I didn’t think. Stupid of me. I should have whistled a tune as I got closer.’
‘No, it’s fine, really. I’ve never felt safer than I do since I’ve lived in Halston.’
‘I think the last crime here was when somebody didn’t finish their pint.’ He winked at her. ‘Were the culprits caught?’
‘No, they wore hoods and apparently the CCTV cameras weren’t working.’
‘Typical. You were brave but you really shouldn’t do it again. The next idiots might be carrying a knife.’
Tess felt light-headed at his concern.
Daniel turned and called his dogs. His two spaniels obediently came running to their master’s side. Seeing Tess, they wagged their tails and went to investigate. Goya took a great interest in the bowl of fruit.
‘They’re lovely dogs,’ she said, bending to stroke them.
‘Yep. They’re great company and they get me out the house.’
‘I was going to phone you later this evening. I’ve jotted down some ideas for a finger buffet which I think would be easier if guests are wandering around looking at your art.’
‘That’s just what I had in mind. You’re happy to come on board then?’
‘I’d love to.’
‘Great. That’s a relief.’ Daniel brushed a fly away from his face. ‘So, why are you picking blackberries so late in the day?’
‘Rain’s forecast for a few days and I’m competing with the neighbours for collecting them. Unfortunately the best ones are too high for me to reach.’
He stepped closer. Tess’s breath quickened. He reached past her shoulder towards the twisted and overgrown blackberry bush. He stood so close that she could smell a faint tang of soap on freshly washed skin. He stretched to the highest branches to pick a few berries from the top of the bush. She stepped to one side, watching his body bridge the distance between them, his T-shirt riding up above his waistband, revealing a taut stomach with a soft line of dark hair leading from his navel down an inch, until it disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. Tess reminded herself to breathe.
‘Here you go.’ Daniel dropped a palm full of berries into the bowl.
‘Thank you. I was thinking of fetching a kitchen chair.’
‘Now that I would have liked to have seen.’
The conversation stopped and their gaze lingered for a few seconds longer than was comfortable.
‘I think I’ve got enough now.’ She lifted up the bowl to show him.
‘Are you making jam?’
‘I’m going to make a crumble for my boyfriend.’
The words had tumbled out before Tess could stop them. She’d broken the spell and noticed Daniel’s smile fade a little.
‘Lucky chap. Well, you’ve got my number. Let me know your ideas.’
Her mind was whirring. Did he mean Blake was a lucky chap because she was making him a crumble, or because he was her boyfriend?
‘I will.’ Her mind went blank. She tried desperately to conjure up something interesting to say to him so that he’d stay and talk a little longer. Then, as if a switch had been turned, she unexpectedly became shy and self-conscious. No witty or interesting anecdote sprang to mind in order to keep him there.
Daniel said goodbye and turned away. She watched him walk across the village green towards the cricket pitch, his dogs bounding alongside. Was it her imagination, or had he looked disappointed when she’d mentioned Blake? She watched him until he was swallowed by the evening gloom.
Daniel trudged back across the grass feeling down. He didn’t even know Tess. He’d only met her three times so why did the knowledge of a boyfriend disappoint him quite so much. She’d looked gorgeous tonight. No weird clothes, just jeans and a pale blue jumper. Her dark hair was spilling out of a ponytail and the escaping strands had framed her heart-shaped face. She had a little smudge of blackberry juice on her lips that he’d imagined kissing away. It had been a long time since he had been interested in a girl and it was just bloody typical that Tess was spoken for.
While he’d been travelling the world, he’d met many girls. Most had become friends, but a few became girlfriends and had developed into deeper relationships. He’d had a wonderful time getting to know them and enjoying exploring different countries with someone special. But his wanderlust had always grown stronger than each relationship, and Daniel had left several broken-hearted girls behind.
After his parents’ death, Daniel had met Ellie. She was the daughter of one of his father’s architect friends. Ellie had attended house parties his parents had hosted over the years and she’d also attended their funeral. She had rung Daniel a few times in the early weeks of his grieving. He’d kept her at a distance because he’d needed all his emotional strength just to get through each day. After a month, she’d called at The Rookery with a takeaway meal and they’d spent a pleasant evening together. She’d made him smile and had
been a great support for him when he was feeling low. It was comforting to know that Ellie had been friends with his parents, and looking back, he believed that he’d been drawn to her through this connection. Their relationship had lasted more than two years. The end came shortly after she’d given him an ultimatum to take their relationship a step further. She’d wanted to move in with Daniel or become engaged. Instead of embracing a deeper closeness, Daniel had felt trapped. He thought he loved Ellie, but at the same time, he knew he didn’t want to make things more permanent. That had been four years ago. He’d enjoyed several short-lived romances since then, but they’d mostly ended mutually and amicably.
Daniel opened his front door and ushered his dogs inside. He wondered if Tess was in her boyfriend’s arms right now. He felt a pang of jealousy, then locked the door and checked it three times.
Chapter Fourteen
It was the eighteenth of August and Denise’s appointment at The Breast Clinic had finally arrived. She was sitting in a waiting room elbow to elbow with several other women who were queuing to see a specialist. This Morning was on the television in the corner of the room and Philip Schofield was interviewing an actress who was promoting her latest book. The interview wasn’t holding Denise’s attention so she looked around the room.
It appeared that breast lumps weren’t choosy. There were women of all shapes and sizes, races and ages: a large old lady sat knitting, knees apart and relaxing as if she were at home, a pale thin woman clinging to her husband’s arm for support, a young Indian lady draped in a beautiful yellow sari.
Simon had tried desperately to change an important meeting in Dublin, but six other people had been involved and the timing had suited them all perfectly. She was alone, but she didn’t mind. She felt calm. She was taking one day at a time. Why panic and jump to conclusions? She was young and healthy and had never smoked. Simon had made her laugh at the coincidence of seeing the parrot. He’d told her it was probably a parakeet that had escaped from its cage and that there were quite a few parrots living wild in London.
Denise found herself thinking of her mother. She missed her. If she were alive, would she be sitting with her now? Had she ever had a breast lump? A doctor had asked her this question but it wasn’t something she’d ever discussed with her mother. They’d talked about family, memories, friends, shopping. The future.
‘Mrs Harby,’ called a nurse, reading the name from the set of notes she was holding. Denise felt the butterflies take flight in her stomach. She stood up and followed the nurse into an examination room.
‘Take a seat, Mrs Harby. Mr Simmonds will see you soon.’ The nurse indicated to a chair at the side of the table.
The room felt cool and clinical, making Denise shudder. There was a desk, three chairs, a stainless steel table with medical equipment on it and a narrow bed on wheels. There was a sharp knock on the door, followed immediately by a tall, well-built man wearing wire-rimmed glasses. A nurse stood to one side, attentive to any instruction he might give.
‘Good morning,’ he said.
‘Hello.’
Mr Simmonds picked up her notes and rustled the pages until he found the referral letter from her own doctor. He read it, his head nodding slightly as he moved down the page, absorbing its contents.
‘Right,’ he said, looking up. ‘If you don’t mind sitting on the couch and removing the top half of your clothing, I’ll examine you.’
Denise did as she was told. The doctor performed the same routine as her own doctor had done previously.
‘Yes, I can feel a small lump,’ he said. ‘I just want to aspirate it.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I need to draw out its contents with a syringe. If it is a common cyst, it will be gone as soon as I drain it. We’ll need to scan the lump first.’
Within ten minutes, the radiologist was scanning her breast and the image was displayed in black and white on a screen beside her. She could see a small white lump on the screen. Mr Simmonds pulled on some tight latex gloves and inserted a needle into the lump. He pulled back on the syringe several times, but nothing drained. He laid down the syringe on the table.
‘It doesn’t seem to be a cyst, but that doesn’t mean it’s anything to worry about. It’s not unusual for solid lumps to be absolutely harmless. I’ll need to do another test to determine this. It’s called a biopsy. I’m going to insert a larger needle that will remove a tiny piece of tissue from the lump. I’ll give you a small local anaesthetic first to numb the area. Is that all right?’
Denise nodded, not trusting her voice.
The doctor injected her, making her wince. She felt a stinging sensation as the fluid was flushed through the syringe into her body. He turned and wrote in her notes while he waited a couple of minutes for the local anaesthetic to take effect. He then stood up and reached for a small instrument.
‘When this takes a small piece of tissue, you will hear a sharp click. This is normal and it won’t hurt.’
Denise nodded.
‘Just relax, Mrs Harby. You’re doing great.’
Mr Simmonds lined up the needle while looking at the image of the lump on the screen. She could see the needle on the display, slowly finding its way to the white highlighted area. A loud click made her jump even though she’d been warned. The needle was withdrawn and the nurse stemmed any drops of blood and put a plaster on the puncture wound. The doctor placed the specimen in a small jar and wrote on the label. He took off his gloves, walked to the sink in the corner of the room and washed his hands. As he lathered the liquid soap in his palms, he looked over his shoulder.
‘It should take a week or so before the results are back. We’ll be in touch with you as soon as they’re through.’
He walked back to the table, drying his hands on two paper towels. ‘Try not to worry unduly. You’re very young for it to be anything nasty.’
Yeah, and there are more sparrows in the sky than parrots, thought Denise.
Chapter Fifteen
Tess sat wedged into the corner of her large settee, legs curled up into the deep feather-filled cushions, cradling a mug of coffee. She glanced up at the television every so often to watch a feature on The One Show. As the fire crackled in its grate, she nestled deeper into the cushions thinking that this free time was heavenly. She wiggled her toes while she sipped the hot liquid through its froth. No demands from Blake, a good supply of Jaffa cakes, and hours that stretched before her surrounded by cookery books. But best of all, she was reliving the conversation she’d had with Daniel earlier that evening.
She flicked through her books, jotting down a few notes from her favourite recipes and adding a few ideas of her own. Her pen hesitated above the paper. She remembered Daniel’s T-shirt riding up his midriff. She shook her head to dispel the image.
‘Finger food desserts,’ she read, whilst stretching across the arm of the settee to reach another Jaffa cake. She nibbled around the chocolate perimeter, popped the circle into her mouth and sucked it until the sponge and chocolate melted away. This left the sweet tangy orange jelly disc to slowly dissolve on her tongue.
The shrill ringing of her mobile disturbed her peace as abruptly as a rugby tackle. She swallowed the lozenge of jelly, pressed the mute button on the television controls and stood up with a groan. Her legs were stiff from being curled up and sat on, so she limped to fetch her phone.
‘Hello.’
‘Is Blake there?’
It was Blake’s mother, joyless Joy.
‘No, he’s out.’
‘He’s not answering his mobile.’
‘He was meeting a colleague after work.’
‘Poor boy. Working late while he’s sick.’
‘He’s out socially, having a drink and relaxing. Is there a message I can pass on?’
‘He looked so pale last week and the weight’s dropping off him.’
Tess’s mouth made an O shape as she gaped down the phone. The only weight that drops off him, she thought, was when he
took his clothes off at night.
Joy continued. ‘I really think you should be taking better care of him. It’s not easy taking on all that new responsibility at work.’
Tess gritted her teeth and tried to remain polite. ‘Blake gets a lot of support, so you don’t need to concern yourself with that. Now was there a message I can give him?’
‘Don’t go getting hoity-toity with me, young lady. Lesley was always so polite to me.’
Not bloody Lesley again! Why did she constantly have to bring Blake’s ex-girlfriend into the conversation? They had only dated for four months. Tess summoned a calm voice from the depths of her shrivelling reserve of diplomacy and patience.
‘You can rest assured that Blake is eating well and getting plenty of support.’
‘I need him to fix a missing tile on my roof and wondered if he can do it in the morning, before the rain sets in for a few days. I know how unwell and busy he is, but I’m sure he’d want me to ask him. My boy wouldn’t want me hiring an odd-job man who would charge a fortune. What sort of a man does odd jobs instead of getting a proper job, anyway?’
Tess was in no mood to start defending odd-job men or continue the conversation. ‘If I don’t see him tonight, I’ll leave him a note. Sorry I have to dash, but I’ve got something bubbling on the hob. Bye.’
It was Tess’s temper that was bubbling. ‘Obnoxious woman.’ She scooped up the Jaffa cakes’ box and lukewarm mug of coffee. One minute she says that Blake needs to relax and then she demands he does a dangerous job for her.
Tess walked into the kitchen, dumping the box and mug angrily on the worktop. In her haste, her thumb became caught on the mug’s handle, tipping the remnants of her drink over. It ran in rivulets along the worktop and dripped like a caramel-coloured waterfall onto the kitchen floor.
Five minutes. That’s all it took to spoil an evening. Five minutes and Joy Snipes.
Blake showered having arranged to meet his colleague, Kent, at The Llama Lounge in town. He’d have a quick pint, maybe two, eat a curry and make his way to Halston to spend the night with Tess.
You've Got My Number: Warm your heart this winter with this uplifting and deliciously romantic story! Page 8