by Kitty Wilson
‘But not to worry. Like I say, the Carpenters have James visiting for the week. You remember James. You two were like two bugs in a rug when you were small. I’m sure there is more than a little romantic potential there. He’s doing very well for himself now, you know? He’s working in the City, making a fortune by all accounts…’
Pippa tuned her mother out. James Carpenter. Wow. She smiled a smile to herself, one so nostalgic and full of fondness it made her tummy feel warm. James who used to bake her bread and bring it into school for her, who put his coat over a puddle for her after they had learned about the Tudors. Fancy. Mind you, they had caught up about ten years ago, the last time he had been home, and he hadn’t been quite so gentle then!
Tonight was going to be interesting.
She wandered back into the kitchen to grab the additional place setting as her father and Pete came back in from the garden.
‘Hey, what do you think you’re doing?’ Her mother slapped Pete away from the oven as he tried to open the door and pinch a roast potato.
‘It’s only a potato, love.’ Pippa’s dad stuck up for Pete.
‘Pfft! We’ve got lots for dinner tonight, and I’ve counted. He’ll mess my numbers up.’ Just as she turned to whip her husband with a tea-towel, Pete took advantage, wrenched the oven door open and rammed a potato in his mouth.
‘Owww!’ He hopped up and down as the potato took its revenge.
‘Serves you righ—’ Jan’s retort was cut short as Jim plopped a kiss on her lips in an attempt to divert her. He followed up the kiss with a series of smacking noises.
‘Hmpf, get off me. You’re such an oaf.’ Her mother tried flapping her husband off to no avail. They were still so cute. When Pippa found that, that was when she’d know she was ready. Relationship goals, right there. However, there was no way she was going to tell them that.
‘It’s no wonder Polly hides in her bedroom. She’s the most normal out of all of you,’ she said instead.
‘Us, out of us. Don’t think you’re off the hook for not being weird. Your clothes are what, seventy years old?’ Pete weighed in.
‘You’re not so old I still can’t take you!’
Ding dong.
‘Quick, Pippa, go get the door.’ Jan spat on her hand and tried to smooth Pippa’s hair down.
‘Urgh, will you get off me? That is not okay.’ Pippa flapped her hands in a futile attempt at self-protection.
Ding dong.
Chapter Five
James had grown up gorgeous, all blond floppy hair and sun-kissed biceps. He may work in the City but clearly spent all his downtime on the best beaches in the world. Pippa had a hard time not dribbling into her supper.
Dinner had been fun, James also was in full charm offensive mode and didn’t bat an eyelid at Polly coming down the stairs still with her ketchup cling film wrap on and (almost) convincing everyone that what she was doing was rational. He had kept up a steady stream of conversation with Pippa’s family, whilst his own family bathed in the golden light of reflected glory.
He managed to talk to Dad about how things were doing at the garage, and got Jan to talk about what it was she loved about her volunteer work at the hospice. Pete, he engaged in conversation about the Liverpool game the night before, and Polly was charmed as he discussed the summer festival circuit and her plans to fit as many as possible in. He mentioned that he may be able to get her a couple of VIP passes to two of them and her whole face lit up, flushing the same colour as the ketchup in the glow of his attention.
The only person he didn’t address directly was Pippa, although he would include her in little asides, collaboratively, as if they were an established team, and she supposed they were. She just wasn’t entirely sure what sort.
He really was very beautiful, like a warrior lion king, made of an odd mix of masculinity and sunshine, holding court, dazzling all present.
Their first course finished, James jumped up to help clear the table only to be firmly put back in his chair by Jan coquettishly pushing his shoulders back down until he was sat back in his original position. Her eyelashes practically took flight she was batting them so furiously. ‘No, you’re the guest and a much valued one. We can’t have you doing chores. You sit here and talk to Pippa. You’ll have all sorts to catch up on. Why, you can’t have seen each other since you were Polly’s age.’
And she was right, they hadn’t, and her comment naturally meant that their very last meeting popped into Pippa’s head where she had been battling to keep it out of all evening.
As children the two had been inseparable, making mud pies and sandcastles, rock-pooling and den building on Penmenna bay, years of being each other’s ultimate confidante, partner in crime and all-round bestie.
Secondary School rolled around, its presence inevitable, and the two were split into different student cohorts. As they matured they drifted apart: Pippa spent her time with the artsy creative set, a little bit too much eyeliner and lots of talking about feelings and the meaning of life interspersed with drunken high-pitched shrieking. James, on the other hand, spent his time discussing coding and Firefly with his friends, the slightly geekier kids, the chess club clique, Pippa and he now only coming together when their families did. And even then, James would find himself spending time with Pete, who would constantly be talking cars. Even if the two did hang out together on holiday, Pippa knew she was guilty of racing back to her other friends as soon as term time returned.
She also knew James had then had more than a little crush on her. It wasn’t that she didn’t fancy him back then… actually, that was exactly what it was. She didn’t fancy him. His conversations were way too complex to follow and he didn’t really wash often enough. He was intense and competitive, and she much preferred the easy-going banter of her own friends to the soulful puppy eyes and waves of body odour emitting from her once best friend. As her life became a mad social whirl from the age of thirteen, more and more space grew between them.
That wasn’t the last time she had seen him though.
Oh no.
The Christmas after he had first left Penmenna for university, left the idyllic coastal charms behind for fast-paced urban ones, he had returned home a different person. Bags of confidence had shone from him then, bright as tinsel and just as captivating. That and the fact that he had clearly ramped up the importance placed on personal grooming. Hair product and deodorant seemed to be one of the many new habits he had picked up from one term in Manchester.
Pippa wasn’t sure what had triggered such a remarkable change, but it was a James who Pippa was interested in and could relate to. A James far more sophisticated than the boys who had stayed behind in Cornwall. Pippa didn’t consider herself to be particularly shallow but at eighteen her head had been turned very easily and that Christmas they spent every day together, the core friendship they had so deeply buried not so far from the surface.
A friendship that turned to romance very quickly as James took her to dinner and verbalised that which she already knew: that all through his gawky youth he had always had a huge crush on her. He had spent their camping holidays in France as teens, biting back the jealousy as she skipped off with boys of all nationalities, whilst Pete would try and get him to understand why the Ford Cortina was due a come-back. Pippa would have the most wondrous holiday romances accompanied by tears, flouncing and petulance on the journey home, whereas James would be begging to return to the safety of his bedroom where his unrequited crush wouldn’t be so blatantly rubbed in and he didn’t have to hear about the merits of T-Cut.
That Christmas, he held her hand over the dinner table and Pippa had been dazzled by his brilliance, and cross that she hadn’t seen his appeal sooner.
That Christmas, Pippa lost her virginity to her best and oldest friend. Was he going to be her forever partner? The one she could settle down with and build a relationship as strong as the one her Mum and Dad had?
Apparently not. In the new year, she heard nothing from him, nothi
ng, not a jot until this evening.
The Carpenters had still been regular visitors to the Parkin household, just minus their son. They would talk at great length at the amazing things that he was achieving, how he was a huge name in banking, his understanding of computing systems having seamlessly transformed into massive success in playing the financial markets, and Pippa felt stupid every time. He had ghosted her before it was a thing that even had a name.
And now here he was in her dining room, charming everyone and somehow making her push her own doubts to the back of her mind as she witnessed what a glorious man he had become.
So glorious that achieving a First and building a glittering career meant that he couldn’t operate a phone, visit his parents or respond to messages on social media.
It wasn’t until her mother’s very boozy berry trifle had been served and the table had been cleared that James made her the focus of his conversation. But not by actually engaging with her.
‘Jan, that was absolutely delicious, but I’ll never keep myself in shape if I keep eating like this. I can’t remember ever having such a delightful meal. Would you mind if Pippa and I took Tatters for a walk? We’ll do the washing up when we get back.’
Pippa shot a look at him: firstly his mother was also a great cook and looking a little put out, and secondly, she didn’t want to go on a walk. She’d had a madly busy day and wanted to escape home straight after dinner to fall into bed and binge watch a few episodes of her favourite show. Plus, she was fairly sure it was Pete’s turn to wash the dishes this week.
As intrigued as she had been to see him again and as impressed as she was about the way he was interacting with her family, she could feel her eyes narrow as she shot James her best killer-ray death glare. Alas, it appeared to bounce right back as he failed to notice it. Probably because he was too busy being bathed in looks of adoration from her mother and sister.
‘Oh, that would be wonderful. Tatters does love an after-dinner walk, but there’s no way you’ll be doing the dishes, young man. You’re our guest. I wouldn’t hear of it.’ Jan gushed so much she was beginning to provide some serious competition to Niagara Falls.
‘Hardly a guest Jan. I like to think of myself as family, if it’s not too much of an imposition.’
Pippa’s eyes rolled so hard she could feel them practically bouncing out of her skull. Silence for thirteen years and now he was family!
James shook his golden mane as he let out a deep chuckle, secure in his belief that he was universally loved. Pippa watched her whole family simper as she began to wonder if he was a little too polished, a little… fake. The man was clearly emitting some kind of brainwashing pheromone. Even her dad looked a little starry-eyed!
She didn’t want to go on a poxy walk and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be forced into spending more time with James than she already had. She was willing to accept that life got in the way sometimes, and had no intention of holding a grudge against him because he hadn’t been in touch. But now, having spent this evening with him, her bullshit radar was beginning to go off, and loudly too. Thirteen years was a long time, people could change a lot and she wasn’t convinced he was the same sweet person as the child she had known.
She saw no merit in extending this evening any further. She’d had a long day, was knackered and really just wanted to curl up under her duvet with Netflix and then a book before going to sleep. Walking with a man she wasn’t sure she trusted and raising her mother’s ever-present romantic hopes was not what she wanted to be doing. She wondered if sobbing and banging her head on the dinner table could possibly be deemed acceptable once one had passed the age of three? Her own little bed in her own little flat wasn’t so much emitting a soft siren call as screeching ‘Come home now!’ with the volume of an all-night rave.
‘Of course, we think of you as family, don’t we, Jim? Chosen family. After all, we have been doing things together since before you and Pips were even little twinkles. Tatters will be overjoyed to have a walk. The lead is just on the peg. Pippa knows where it is, don’t you Pippa? Hurry up now, James is waiting.’
Pippa tried her death glare that had been so ineffective upon James on her mother, to much the same result. But then, to be fair, surviving three children’s adolescence meant that Darth Vader could wander in the house and Jan wouldn’t bat an eye, but just mention that moody boys didn’t get any treats.
She tried to ignore Pete, who was shooting her looks of amusement as he cleared the table, and Polly, who was also sending looks but of envy rather than anything else, and quickly tried to formulate an excuse that would get her out of the walk. Could she have suddenly developed a leg injury? No, that would not be worth it, because it would involve her mother nipping around every day to take photos to check for improvements or for any signs of worsening symptoms. Um, could she pretend she had a pressing engagement after dinner? No, her parents would know that wasn’t true and she’d never hear the end of it. Could she…?
The jangle of the chain that made up the dog’s lead snapped her out of her frantically racing thoughts as Pete dropped it next to her on the table.
‘There you go, sis.’ He was grinning from ear to ear, clearly over the moon at his own evil as he beamed from her to James. ‘Best get a wriggle on.’
Chapter Six
Pippa had taken great care with her appearance as she headed into school. It was still the holidays but Rosy had pencilled in today as a planning meeting for the Class One staff, to discuss the summer term. Pippa liked these days: she got a buzz out of helping plan what the children would be doing, and seeing how lesson built upon lesson to help develop their skills. Summer term was her absolute favourite; it was all so much fun and they spent a lot of it dashing around Penmenna doing awesome sunshiny things.
However, it wasn’t professional diligence that had resulted on her trying on six different outfits this morning before deciding upon her chocolate brown, early-sixties sweater dress with cute little tan stripe detailing around the cuffs, neckline and hem of the skirt. Relaxed and stylish was the vibe she was going for and as there wouldn’t be actual children in the classroom today, she could risk wearing it, the chances of getting covered head to toe in paint, playdough or glitter being hopefully next to zero. Unlike every other day, when being sprayed with art supplies, yogurt and the odd bit of wee or sick was more or less guaranteed. The joys of being a teaching assistant in Class One.
Teaming the dress with her trademark scarlet lips and the cutest little chocolate and tan court heels, and flicking the ends of her hair up to suit the outfit had made her early start more than bearable. It was just a shame she had had to look a dead seagull in the eye whilst she did it.
Her flatmate, Lottie, who ran the shop below their flat, was currently obsessed with taxidermy, having decided this would be her new career choice and being determined to become the go-to taxidermist in the UK. Lottie was often dismissed by others as a little odd, but Pippa knew she had a razor-sharp mind, a fascination with stocks and shares, which meant she owned the village shop and the flat they shared, and was far smarter than she was given credit for. It was unfortunate though that when it came to taxidermy she was still very much at the practice stage, and everything she did resulted in having slightly crossed eyes or looking like infamous serial killers of the animal world, and ended up scattered liberally over the house. Hence the seagull in the bathroom, which was, according to Lottie, an-absolutely-darling-little-touch-helping-fit-with-a-nautical-theme. In Pippa’s mind it was more mangy-old-bird-riddled-with-fleas and freaking her out before breakfast.
However, even Sidney the seagull (yes, Lottie had named it) couldn’t dim her excitement today. She couldn’t wait to see if Kam had got the job and who she’d be working alongside. She had received an email from Rosy detailing that a Mr Choudhury had got the job. This wasn’t conclusive evidence as she may have interviewed more than one male candidate, but it was definitely hopeful.
Far more hopeful than her enforced walk with J
ames the other night had been, where he had told her how he had adored her as a child and then suggested ways in which she could improve herself. He also had revealed a quite remarkable knack for pursuing his own agenda and not even pausing in any way to hear Pippa’s views. In between telling her that she could be very attractive if she just ditched the vintage thing and dressed properly, he had utterly failed to answer any of her questions about his inability to contact her after their Christmas romance all those years ago, although he did take a deep interest in the local scenery whenever she tried to discuss it.
James had no sense of humour and was rather like a shallow pool: all glinting and beautiful in the moonlight, but with nowhere near enough depth to get lost in. It was unfortunate that the pure joy on her mother’s face as they returned Tatters meant Pippa was somewhat boxed in. Jan’s fervid dreams of imminent grandchildren were ablaze on her face as James cunningly asked Pippa if he could take her out again whilst standing in front of her mother. Such manipulative behaviour did not play well with Pippa and she would make sure to tell him so when he picked her up next time. However, she could hardly turn him down. Whilst she didn’t give a jot about his feelings, saying ‘not a chance’ in front of her mother would be akin to shooting Bambi at point-blank range. She just couldn’t do it. Plus, she still felt she owed it to the child she had known, to scratch the surface a little deeper and see if that James was still in there, even if he was buried very deep indeed.
Kam, on the other hand, most definitely had a sense of humour; it was written all over his face, lighting up his eyes and even expressed in the very way he walked. It might be a shockingly bad sense of humour, but that was alright with Pippa. She had one of those too. He was the complete opposite of James in every way. If Kam had been given the job, she could see herself giggling all term.