When she first moved in she decided that she wouldn’t change anything, this was her daughter’s house and she didn’t want to take liberties. However, out of all the talents that Laura had, cooking wasn’t one of them. On the first search through the kitchen cupboards she came up with two onions, half a jar of apricot jam, a tub of something suspicious and a dozen eggs. There were six takeaway menus by the phone.
As the days went by she had found it increasingly difficult to make any meals that required more complexity than a toaster and guiltily raided her own kitchen for what she considered to be essentials. What she couldn’t hide in the cupboards she stored in the shed. No one had the time for gardening so she was relatively confident her secret would stay hidden.
Hilary found Andy to be unfailingly polite and incredibly grateful for anything she did that made his life more comfortable. She knew it probably wasn’t easy having another woman take over from his wife but fear of losing her support would make him especially careful to ensure she felt appreciated. For her part she didn’t want him to find someone else to look after them so she was overdoing the domestic goddess role.
Honestly, she thought, we’ll hurt ourselves on the egg shells we’re walking on if we’re not careful.
From the baby monitor on the table she could hear Andy singing to Suzie and she had to hold onto the counter top to calm her racing pulse and the stab of emotion that ripped through her. Laura had chosen her husband well, a pity Hilary hadn’t done the same; she would have liked someone to lean on right now.
She kept her breathing steady until her heartbeat slowed to a more normal level and she was able to finish laying the table. Tonight they were having a chicken casserole, cooked from scratch, with baby carrots and sugar snap beans. The home-made bread rolls had just come out of the oven, the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread soothing her nerves.
Footsteps down the stairs were quickly followed by Andy, looking tired and in need of a haircut. He checked that the phone in the kitchen was plugged in and working before putting his mobile on charge. He didn’t want to risk missing a phone call from the hospital.
“Drink?” he said.
“Gin and tonic please.” Hilary had found herself almost relying on the light deadening of her senses that a small drink would provide and vowed to cut down tomorrow. Or the day after. Next week at the latest. “I’m just waiting on the potatoes, should be ready in about fifteen minutes, I think. How was your day?”
“Busy and too long! Dinner smells amazing, how about you go into the lounge and I’ll bring your drink in? Then we can have a proper catch-up.”
She took off her apron and went through to sink into one of the armchairs; her gaze fell on a picture of Andy and Laura together. It had been taken while they were honeymooning; they were sitting on a beach somewhere looking out at the sunset, so happy and carefree with their whole lives ahead of them.
This might not be my home, she thought, but I’ll make it one that my daughter would be proud of.
October
Mark arrived at the village with a van load of his personal effects and a headache. He tried to block out the conversation that Tamara had instigated that morning but it had been re-playing in his head since he left London.
Tamara had twigged that he never seemed to wear a work suit any more and had asked him a point-blank what was going on. In hindsight, that was probably the moment when he should have confessed what had happened. It would have been easy enough to say that he’d been made redundant and had sold off everything he owned, apart from his clothes, to keep up an elaborate façade of being able to afford the lifestyle they lived. Yes, that had definitely been the moment.
What he’d done instead though, was to tell her that he’d taken redundancy so he could start his own business. He’d thrown in a few long banking terms and phrases at random until he was sure she was utterly confused, and then neatly deflected the conversation to their wedding.
She hadn’t asked exactly what his business did so Mark was saved the additional stress of having to make something up. However, he was no longer sure that everything was going to be all right any more. In fact, he rather suspected that things were going to go very wrong, very quickly.
The landlord hadn’t asked any awkward questions when Mark told him that he didn’t want to renew his lease. Perhaps he’d seen too many people lose their jobs recently to be inquisitive, or maybe he knew that the flat would be snapped up within the week by another hotshot hopeful. Either way, he was rent and roof free, which was a deeply uncomfortable feeling.
He was also deeply uncomfortable about the wedding plans. Apparently everything served would be vegetarian, and when he asked why, she said she wasn’t eating meat any more. She said that cruelty to animals was against her beliefs and it was awful how they suffered for human enjoyment.
Mark would almost have been impressed if he didn’t know that she was chasing the chance to model the next naked pro-vegetarian campaign, or if she hadn’t been wearing snakeskin boots. He merely felt irked that if she wasn’t eating meat it meant that until the novelty wore off, he wouldn’t be allowed to eat it either.
He really should have had some sort of plan in place before leaving London. As the car swung into the village square he spotted a parking space in front of the pub and decided to stop for a drink and a bit of company while he figured out his next move.
The Feisty Ferret sat in the centre of the village just off the cricket pitch. Outside, the few remaining hanging baskets still held a splash of colour against the beamed walls and heavy tables and benches huddled in cosy familiarity by the front door.
Inside, wooden tables and chairs were dotted around the stone floor under garlands of dried hops. Horse brasses and various countryside curiosities were tastefully placed on the walls, window ledges and crevices so that they caught the light as the evenings grew darker. Further back, comfortable leather-backed sofas guarded a roaring fire, the first of the coming winter.
The long wooden bar was on the right as Mark walked in and he sat on a stool waiting to be served.
From somewhere below the bar it was just possible to make out a female voice singing something muffled and off-key. Assuming that the barmaid had gone down to change a beer barrel, he nipped behind the bar and helped himself to a bottle of Badger’s End beer and a glass. He loved the random-sounding beers that you only got in the country.
Gradually the singing got louder and more confident, although the tune was still unknown to anyone who wasn’t tone deaf. The barmaid reversed into the bar dragging a crate of mineral water with her.
Mark sat appreciating the barmaid’s plump bottom swaying to her rhythm before coughing gently. At the unexpected intrusion the barmaid dropped the crate and nearly left the floor in shock. She turned with a wide smile and no embarrassment. From the laughter lines around her eyes Mark guessed she was somewhere in her forties. A mass of chestnut hair was escaping from a loose ponytail and her black trousers and snug jumper were speckled with spiders’ webs and dust. There was a dark smudge of something unidentifiable on her cheek.
“Hi, sorry, didn’t realise anyone was up here. I thought I’d do a quick re-stock before Friday kicks off. Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good thanks, what do I owe you for the beer?”
The barmaid opened her mouth and then noticed Mark’s van outside. Her smile widened. “Your van?”
“Doesn’t that seem a bit steep for a beer?”
“No, pet, is that your van?”
Mark turned to look out of the window. “Yes, sorry, is it parked in the wrong place?”
“Parking’s great but it says on the side you do general work. How about you have the beer you’ve got already followed by another couple with a pub-cooked curry later in exchange for a giving me a hand stocking up from the cellar now? I’m short-staffed this week so if you think it’s a bit cheeky of me then I’m sorry, but I’m desperate!” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m Pam by the way
.”
“I’m Mark. It’s a deal, I’ve got no plans for the evening anyway and it’s been ages since I had a decent curry. What kind are you serving?”
“Chicken, rice, poppadums and chutney. If the chef’s feeling adventurous you might get some peas or sweet corn hiding under a coriander leaf but we basically found our Friday night curry lovers like meat, lots of it, with enough heat to knock out a sinus.”
Mark heard his stomach growling. “You have no idea how much I love that kind of curry!”
Pam laughed loudly and started putting the mineral water bottles onto shelves. “I haven’t seen you around here before; you’re not local, are you?”
“I was raised a couple of streets from here and my parents lived in the village all their lives but they’ve recently gone to live in Spain. I was working in London but got made redundant in August and basically I couldn’t afford London prices. So, I’ve sold up and I’m back to the countryside while I’m job hunting.”
“Are your parents Mike and Lilly?”
“Yes, I bet you’ve seen my dad in here a fair bit!”
“He used to do all my DIY jobs that I needed a hand with and your mum babysat my kids in an emergency. Small world, isn’t it? That’ll be your Dad’s van then, I’m guessing.”
“He would’ve taken it with him if he’d found a suitcase big enough. So, what brought you to the village?”
“Ah, well, I came here after my divorce. My husband, Tom, and I ran a pub down in Devon but he ran off with one of the waitresses.”
“Sorry about that.” Said Mark, instantly hating himself for saying something so simplistic and worrying that Pam would think him a linguistically challenged idiot.
“Yes, it was a shame; she was a good worker; which is more than could be said about Tom. After he left I found he’d taken out loans in my name to pay for a gambling habit and since he was nowhere to be found I had to sell the pub to pay off his debts. A friend mentioned that this place was available so I packed the kids up and here we are.” She reached for a glass and helped herself to a fruit juice. “It’s a nice area, the school had a good Ofsted inspection last year and the pub keeps things just about ticking over. I’m looking for a lodger for a bit of extra income so the kids and I can go on holiday in the summer and then I think I’m sorted.”
Mark thought for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’d consider me as the lodger, would you? I haven’t got anything fixed up yet and although I’ve a very low budget I’m pretty handy with a spanner and I wouldn’t be around all the time either. My fiancée lives in London but works abroad a lot so when she’s home I’ll be there.”
Pam looked at him through new eyes. “So you’re engaged? Congratulations! What does she do?”
“Oh, she’s involved in fashion.”
“Sounds glamorous.”
“It’s OK but after going with her on a couple of trips I left her to it. To be honest I’d rather sit in front of the TV watching Top Gear.”
Pam laughed again. “Just like a typical bloke! That would be brilliant, your parents were always going on about how wonderful you are and that’s a much better reference than I’d ever get off a total stranger. When would you like to move in?”
“Well, I cleared out of my flat this morning so the van’s loaded. If I do a bank transfer for two months’ rent up front now, could we say from tonight?”
Pam raised her glass to him. “Welcome to your new home! I’ll get the contract and my bank details while you fill the shelves up with bottles.”
He finished his beer in one long swallow. “Right, let me know what you need and point me in the direction of the cellar.”
The first frost of the incoming winter lay heavily over the countryside and Camilla watched with barely concealed impatience as her husband scraped off every last evidence of ice from the car windows.
“We’re going to be late!” she hissed, her knuckles clenched under cream leather gloves. Camilla pulled a small mirror from her handbag and checked her make-up.
Paul carefully took out a cloth and brought out a shine to the front headlights. “It will be fine; I’ll make up some time on the country lanes, no one’s around at this time of morning anyway.”
Camilla nodded curtly and as Paul folded his cloth to put it away she swiftly got in the car and shut her door with unnecessary force. She watched in satisfaction as a small flock of birds on the tree outside her house was disturbed by the noise and flew off, shrieking loudly. None of her neighbours went to church on a Sunday but she made sure that they all knew that she did.
With her hair tied into a severe bun and wearing a freshly laundered beige suit with matching court shoes she tried to channel meekness. Audrey had out-meeked her last weekend after coming over faint from giving blood, but not this weekend; Camilla had looked into bone marrow donation and she was pretty sure it was a topic of conversation that could go on for a couple of months before she moved on to something else. Obviously the idea that she would give bone marrow to someone she didn’t know was quite out of the question.
Paul adjusted his mirrors and reversed carefully. Beside him he could feel Camilla’s disapproval at the lack of speed and he gently put his foot on the accelerator as they left their driveway. It was only when the car was going at sixty miles an hour down the little country lanes that he started to feel her relax slightly.
They drove in silence, as usual.
Camilla opened her handbag looking for a tissue and was horrified to discover she had left a receipt from the local discount supermarket in there. She would have been mortified if anyone thought she shopped anywhere but high-end stores and so reached forward to open the glove compartment to hide the offending article.
Paul hadn’t been paying much attention to what Camilla was doing but when the glove compartment began to open he leaned across.
“NO!”
As he lurched to one side he pulled the steering wheel and the car swerved wildly. The compartment door was slammed shut at the same moment that the car hit something. Paul slammed on the brakes and smoothed his hair down nervously.
Camilla watched him with her mouth open. “What the hell was that about?”
“Your… birthday present’s in there, I’d forgotten to take it out and I wasn’t expecting you to go rummaging around in my car. Bugger, I think we hit something.” He turned and saw a small brown object in the road behind them. “I suppose we should go and check if it’s all right.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, we’ll be late for church. It shouldn’t have jumped out in front of the car. Well…?” She glared at him. “Drive on for heaven’s sake!”
Paul took another look at the thing in the road. A light drizzle had started to come down and he didn’t really fancy getting wet. He could sense Camilla getting tetchy next to him and decided to take the path of least resistance.
“All right, dear, let’s keep going. But please, you have to promise me you won’t look in there. I’ll take your gift out when we stop, it’s too valuable to leave behind; I can’t think what I was thinking of.”
His wife drummed her fingers against her handbag. “Fine, but would you please put your foot down so we can make up some time.”
Once they were at the church Paul opened the car door for Camilla, and when her back was turned, hurriedly removed something pink and frilly from the glove compartment. As Camilla raced in front of him to see if she was still able to get seats at the front he pushed the item into the thick bush that enclosed the church grounds. Sighing heavily and with feeling, Paul followed his wife to his seat.
When the sermon had ended and everyone had left the church, Edward pushed his bike down the path to head home for lunch. As usual he was deep in thought and almost missed the flash of pink in the hedge; he reached in to retrieve it. At first he thought it was a child’s hair band and planned to put in the lost and found box at the rectory. As it came out though he realised that it was a pair of crotchless panties. He failed to see how they would provide either cove
r or warmth. It was a sad state of affairs when people started putting their privates in privet.
Worried that someone might see him with such a racy item of underwear Edward resolved to take it home and burn it on the fire that evening.
Kate was cycling through the rain on her way to visit Laura when she spotted the little dog lying in the middle of the road. The heavy clouds allowed for poor light through the gloom and she almost missed the inert figure that blended into the mud on the road. At first she thought it was a fox that had been caught by a speeding motorist; however, as she drew closer she could hear a dog whimpering faintly.
She jumped off her bike, ran over and kneeled down to check the damage. A large brown eye looked up at her and she felt a tongue lick her hand softly as she checked for bleeding. Her heart melted with love.
Kate took off her coat and carefully eased the dog onto it, hearing a little cry that tore at her core.
“It’s all right, poppet. Let’s get you to a vet.”
She tenderly placed the dog, as best she could, into the front basket of her bike and tried to put part of her waterproof coat over its head so it wouldn’t get wet. Head down, Kate cycled at full speed into town.
The emergency surgery was starting to come to an end as she arrived and the assistant was visibly depressed at the sight of an early closing slipping away, but as soon as she saw the dog’s head she was efficiency itself. She took the animal off Kate and rushed it into the X-ray room, preparing all she could for the vet as soon as he became free. Kate was directed to sit in the waiting room.
James spotted Kate through the window of the surgery and went in to see her. The new intake of pupils had taken up most of his time since she’d returned and he still hadn’t orchestrated a casual meeting with her yet. This seemed the perfect opportunity.
He found her pacing the small waiting room, dripping wet and starting to shiver. When she saw him she threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears. James didn’t think she had a pet and was completely baffled by the outburst of emotion but held her and waited patiently for an explanation. There weren’t many women who could look good even when crying but it struck him that Kate was one of them, and if she wanted him to put his arms around her then he wasn’t going to argue.
Love, Lies and Lemon Cake Page 4