A Bicycle Made For Two: Badly behaved, bawdy romance in the Yorkshire Dales (Love in the Dales Book 1)

by Mary Jayne Baker

  I shrugged. ‘Oh, that’s just mucking about. Friends do that.’

  ‘He never mucks about like that with me.’

  ‘You’re… younger,’ I said diplomatically. ‘He probably thinks it’s not appropriate.’

  ‘Yeah, I know what he thinks. What you all think. You think I’m a child, don’t you?’

  ‘Well you are a child. You know, technically.’

  ‘I’m old enough to know what I feel.’ She flushed and looked down at her knees. ‘To fall in love.’

  ‘Oh, Jaz…’ I sighed. ‘You poor kid.’

  ‘And don’t tell me I don’t love him,’ she said, suddenly fierce. ‘Older people always think they know better.’

  ‘No one’s saying that, sweetie.’ I gave in to whatever maternal instinct was guiding me and reached up to stroke her hair. ‘But it won’t help. Deano thinks you’re too young for him, and, well, he’s right really.’

  ‘No he isn’t. My stepdad’s six years older than my mum and they’ve been married years.’

  ‘And how old was your mum when they met?’

  ‘Twentyseven.’

  ‘Well, there you go. Twenty-seven and 33 is very different to 17 and 24. There’s a whole world to find in the next few years.’

  She pulled herself up a little. ‘No there’s not. I’m dead mature for my age, everyone says. And I can do commitment for the right guy, I’ve had loads of long-term relationships. One was like, six months.’

  I managed to suppress a smile. ‘What happened to him?’

  She sniffed. ‘He wanted me to wear a promise ring. I said it was too soon. You’re only young once, right?’

  ‘Exactly.’ I gave her a comforting squeeze. ‘What’s brought this on, eh?’

  ‘This.’ She fumbled in her bag for a piece of paper. ‘I’ve been offered a place studying design and photography at the University of East London.’

  ‘Oh my God, Jaz! That’s amazing!’ I blinked at the letter she’d handed me. ‘Unconditional offer, too. They must think a lot of your portfolio.’

  ‘I haven’t accepted yet.’

  ‘What?’ I looked up at her. ‘Are you mad? Bite their hand off, love.’

  ‘But it’s London. It’s so far away from…’ She bit her lip. ‘… from him. And when I told him, he just congratulated me like he… like he wouldn’t even miss me.’ She gave way to sobs again.

  ‘What, so you’re just going to stay working at this dive all your life in the hope Deano’ll eventually notice you?’ I said. ‘He’ll meet someone one day – unless they change the law and let him marry that bloody frying pan – and you’ll have to see it and it’ll hurt like hell. Get out, while you still can.’

  I was frowning at my hands, and when I looked up I found her blinking at me.

  ‘Why do you sound so angry about it?’

  ‘I’m not angry. I’m just…’ I sighed. ‘Look, I never told anyone this. Not even my brother, so you have to keep it secret, ok?’

  Her eyes were like dinner plates. ‘I promise.’

  ‘Well, just before Dad got sick I was applying to unis too. I got an offer to study cosmology, but he was diagnosed before I accepted. So I turned it down.’

  ‘And now you regret it?’

  I paused. ‘No,’ I said at last. ‘I don’t regret a minute I spent with Dad, they were all precious. But I can’t help wondering what if things had been different, you know?’

  ‘Why don’t you go now?’

  ‘Oh, it’s too late for me,’ I said with a sad smile. ‘I’d feel daft surrounded by kids. Anyway, my life’s here. Tom, Sue, Gerry. This place.’

  ‘And that famous man you like, right?’

  I laughed. ‘Harper Brady? I wouldn’t miss a bus for that guy.’

  ‘Not him,’ Jasmine said with a knowing smile. ‘That famous cyclist from the bike shop.’

  ‘Oh.’ I glared at a mop that was giving me evils. ‘Him.’

  ‘You like him, don’t you?’

  ‘Sometimes. When he’s not driving me insane.’ I turned to her. ‘But I didn’t like him when I was 17. I liked a lad in my year called Scott Spen. You know him?’

  She frowned. ‘That man who looks like a sheep?’

  ‘Yep. And if I’d given up on going to uni because I’d stayed around here for him, I can tell you I’d regret it like nobody’s business.’ I patted her shoulder. ‘Don’t make that mistake, eh?’

  ‘This is different. I love him.’

  ‘And I loved Scott. Made a little sheep-faced shrine to him with a photo I’d stolen from somewhere and an old pencil he’d left behind in Maths. That’s the thing about love when you’re 17. It can be real as hell. Doesn’t make it forever.’

  ‘Mine is,’ Jasmine said fervently. ‘I won’t forget him, Lana. Not ever.’

  I pushed myself to my feet. ‘Right. Then you’ll just have to impress him. Accept that uni place and become the best designer in the world, then he’ll have to notice you.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘He recommended you for the calendar, didn’t he? And you did a bloody good job too, everyone’s been saying.’

  She managed a wan smile. ‘I did, didn’t I?’

  ‘Plus when you’re finished with uni, you’ll be 21. Twenty-one and 28 doesn’t sound such a big gap, does it?’

  She looked thoughtful. ‘No. It really doesn’t.’

  ‘And if Deano still doesn’t notice you, there’s always Harry Styles. Come on.’ I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘You get on home and let them know you’ll take that place. I’ll tell Deano you went off sick.’

  ‘Thanks, Lana.’ She wiped her eyes and pushed open the cupboard door. ‘You’re the best boss. I hope it works out with you and the bike shop man.’

  ‘Honestly, Jaz, there is no me and…’ I sighed. She’d already gone. ‘Never mind. Just… never mind.’

  Chapter 24

  Our next cycling group meeting was the last before the Tour people came to visit. When we met at the pub, everyone was in a state of high anxiety.

  ‘I just wish we knew what they were looking for,’ Cameron said for about the fourth or fifth time.

  ‘We can take a fair guess,’ Stewart said. ‘Stuff that makes good telly. Scenery, history…’

  Gerry drained the last of his pint. ‘What I wish we knew is how far to sell them on the viaduct. We can’t guarantee it’ll be open for the Tour.’

  ‘I think we should just go for it,’ Stewart said. ‘We don’t need to mention the bats, do we?’

  ‘Oh, they’ll know all about it, darling,’ Yolanda said in her usual affected drawl. She had her chair so close to Stewart’s, she might as well just climb up on his lap. ‘It’s been in the newspaper, hasn’t it? I’m sure these people do their homework.’

  Stewart shrugged. ‘We can mention it as a possibility anyway. It’s a waste not to capitalise on it after all our fundraising.’

  Tom and I were silent. We were still waiting for the report on the viaduct’s barbastelle population and until we got it, we’d decided it was best to keep quiet. Just in case we got everyone’s hopes up only for there to be a last-minute hitch.

  ‘Right,’ Gerry said. ‘I’m off to get another round in.’

  ‘No, it’s my turn,’ I said, standing. ‘Same again, everyone?’

  There was a hum of agreement and I headed to the bar. I’d just put our order in for the usual when I felt a tap on my arm.

  ‘Come to give you a hand,’ Stewart said.

  ‘No need. Billy’ll sort me a tray.’

  ‘Well, thought you might like some company.’ He went silent for a minute, watching Billy pouring Yolanda’s G&T. ‘Good date the other night?’

  ‘Er, yeah. Jasmine went home ill though so I had to end it early and cover her shift.’

  He la
ughed. ‘So that’s why Harper was on my doorstep at nine demanding booze and a listening ear for an in-depth analysis of his BAFTA prospects.’

  ‘You were home then?’ I said, trying to sound casual. ‘Thought you’d gone to Yo-yo’s.’

  ‘I didn’t stay long. She was heading out so I took my shepherd’s pie back to the flat.’

  ‘Oh. I thought you two were having a meal.’

  ‘No, she just cooks for me sometimes. I think she likes having someone to look after.’ He leaned round to look into my face. ‘Did I do something to annoy you, Lana? You seem a bit off with me lately.’

  ‘We’re fine. Same as always.’

  He looked awkward, like he was struggling to put something into words.

  ‘Look, is this about the other day?’ he said after a second.

  ‘What other day?’

  ‘At the flat. You know, when the shop got vandalised. I was wondering if you might’ve maybe… got the wrong idea. About me and Yo-yo.’

  I shrugged. ‘Why should I care who you have in your flat?’

  ‘I’d hate for you to think – she only came over to help me with the painting.’

  ‘Right. Painting the shower, were you?’

  ‘We had a shower afterwards, yeah. Got a bit dirty. One each, I might add.’

  ‘You expect me to believe that?’

  His lips curved into a half-smile. ‘Ok, so I’d be lying if I said she didn’t take a whack at it. I was a bit suspicious when she had a bottle of gin and her dressing gown stashed in her handbag. But come on – Yolanda? You can’t think I’d go for her.’

  ‘Why not?’ I felt illogically offended on Yolanda’s behalf even as I felt pissed off at her for putting the moves on Stewart. ‘Yo-yo’s a good-looking woman. Trust me, she’s always done all right for herself.’

  ‘It’s nothing personal. Yo-yo’s lovely – in her way – but she’s old enough to be my mum.’ He shuddered. ‘She looks a bit like my mum, too. We’re on safer ground with shepherd’s pie.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Would it’ve bothered you if there’d been more to it?’ he asked, in the familiar fake-casual tone I recognised from my own voice.

  ‘No. Why should it?’

  ‘Well, absolutely. You’ve got Harper now, right?’

  ‘Um, yeah.’ Stewart didn’t need to know I’d spent the last few days not taking Harper’s calls.

  ‘He’s filthy rich, you know,’ Stewart observed nonchalantly.

  ‘So he tells me.’

  ‘And handsome.’

  ‘Lots of women seem to think so.’

  ‘Did he show you his Rear of the Year award?’

  My mouth started to quirk into a smile and I willed it back into deadpan mode. ‘Not yet. We have to save something for the second date.’

  ‘Well, I’m happy for you. He’s… some catch.’ Stewart’s face was a picture of studied sincerity. ‘Funny though, I got the impression at the calendar shoot you weren’t a fan.’

  ‘He grows on you.’

  ‘Come on,’ he said, smiling. ‘Let’s stop messing about, Lana. I think you know I – ’

  ‘Cheers, Billy,’ I said to the landlord as he dumped the last drink on the bar. ‘Perfect timing. Stick it on our tab, yeah?’

  Grabbing the tray, I hurried back to our table. I badly needed time to think and process before I could respond to what I suspected Stewart might’ve been about to say.

  ‘About time,’ Gerry grumbled as I handed drinks round. Stew slid back into his seat, shooting me a meaningful look I pointedly ignored.

  ‘What’ve you two been chatting about?’ Sue whispered when I’d sat back down. ‘Your head looks like a radish.’

  ‘We’ll talk later, ok?’ I whispered back. ‘Stewart’s being confusing. He’s good at that.’

  ***

  ‘Right,’ Sue said when we’d finalised arrangements for the Tour people’s visit. ‘Me and Lana are going to get off so we can talk about you all. You lads stay and have another drink. I’m sure Yo-yo can provide female company for the three of us.’

  I glared at her as we made our way to the exit. ‘Did you have to say that? Stew might not know it’s a joke.’

  ‘Good. Let him think we’re talking about him. First rule of keeping men on their toes, lass: always make sure they feel nervous. Once they know what you’re thinking they get complacent.’

  She shouldered open the door and we made our way into the night. It was a balmy early autumn evening, or as balmy as it ever was that many feet above sea level: warm with a warning tang. The Dales liked to remind you that, however far you’d lapsed into a false sense of security, it was never wise to go out without a coat.

  ‘God, Sue, you’re like the talking 1950s,’ I said. ‘Don’t you tell Gerry what you’re thinking? You’ve been married a trillion years.’

  ‘If I did he’d have left me yonks ago.’ She slipped her arm into mine as we started making our way up the cobbles. ‘So. We’ve all noticed you making cow eyes at Stewart McLean.’

  I frowned. ‘I don’t make cow eyes. Cows make cow eyes. I make… lady eyes.’

  ‘Trust me: as someone who spends most of her day with farm animals, those’re cow eyes. Thought I’d give you a few weeks to get over it, but since you seem to be getting worse it’s time we had some girl talk.’

  I sighed. ‘He’s just confusing. He’s a confusing man. An irritating, confusing man.’

  ‘Hunky though,’ she said, watching my face carefully.

  I shrugged. ‘He’s all right. I could take him or leave him.’

  ‘Good. Because trust me, when all that’s heading south, all you’re left with is the pillock underneath.’ She gave my arm a squeeze. ‘He hurt you before, chicken. Buggered if he’ll do it again on my watch.’

  ‘That’s what’s so confusing,’ I said. ‘Every time I start to warm to him, I remember how upset I was when he disappeared out of my life before. Then I think, is it safe to let myself get close?’ I sighed. ‘I’m… fragile, just at the moment. And this is strictly between us, but he actually did break my heart just the littlest bit.’

  ‘I know he did,’ she said gently.

  ‘I can’t put myself in that position again, Sue. Not after everything I’ve been through in the last six months.’

  ‘Does Stewart know any of this?’

  ‘What, you mean did I tell him that after one date I was in pieces because he didn’t call, like a pathetic schoolgirl? Course he doesn’t know.’

  Sue skimmed my body approvingly. ‘Still, at least you’re losing weight.’

  I frowned. For a big woman she didn’t half take a lot of interest in my figure.

  She must’ve read the thought in my eyes. ‘Well, when you get to my age you can afford it,’ she said with a smile. ‘So what did Stewart say before to turn you all radishy?’

  ‘He… well, nothing, I ran away before he could finish. But I think he was going to tell me he likes me.’

  ‘Been seeing a lot of him lately, haven’t you?’ she said quietly.

  Sue would’ve made a great counsellor. She always gave just the right prompts, getting you to spill exactly what was bothering you before you even properly knew what it was.

  I had been seeing a lot of him. More than I realised, now I thought about it. Apart from the last week, when I’d suspected him of having a fling with Yolanda and gone out of my way to avoid him, I’d actually seen him most days: either outside his shop, at the group meetings or in the restaurant when he came in to eat. Sometimes, when Tom was out with Cam and I was feeling particularly lonely, I’d even called at his flat and invited him to walk Flash with me. Slowly, gradually, I’d got used to Stewart McLean being there when I needed someone.

  ‘Yes,’ I said at last. ‘Hard not to when he’s right in front of me.’

  ‘D
o you like him a lot, my love?’

  ‘I… think about him a lot,’ I admitted. ‘All the time.’

  ‘So you’re falling for him.’

  She was very matter-of-fact, but the words sent a jolt through my stomach.

  ‘No,’ I said, my brow lowering. ‘I can’t let myself do that.’

  ‘Then why spend time with him?’

  ‘He makes me laugh. He’s kind when I need someone to be kind, and funny when I need someone to be funny. I guess it all comes down to…’

  ‘Your dad?’ she said in the same quiet voice.

  ‘Yes.’ I was speaking half to myself now. ‘I get lonely. And now Tom’s with Cameron… it feels like it’d be nice, you know? To have what they’ve got.’

  ‘Not jealous of your brother, are you?’

  ‘Course not, I’m happy for him. But…’ I sighed. ‘It must be wonderful to have something like that. To fall in love.’

  ‘And you never have, have you? Not properly.’

  I looked at her in surprise. ‘How did you know that?’

  She shrugged. ‘Worked it out. You were only a lass when your dad got sick, and it’s not like you’ve made much time for boys since then.’ She took her arm out of mine and nodded to the restaurant door. ‘This is you.’

  I was home. I wasn’t even sure how we’d got there. It felt like I’d been in a trance.

  Sue kissed my cheek. ‘Don’t fall in love because you’re lonely, chicken,’ she said gently. ‘Fall in love because he’s worth it.’

  ‘I’ll try. Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘Give us a hug then.’ She threw her arms around me, crushing me against her comforting bulk. ‘Shame really, he seems a nice lad otherwise. But who could do that to our little girl, eh?’ She gave my back a hearty slap. ‘Call me or the old man whenever you’re lonely, all right? The sooner you free yourself of Stewart McLean, the better.’

  Chapter 25

  The following Thursday I woke with a strange feeling in my tummy.

  I swung myself out of bed and flicked open the curtains. It looked like any other late summer day: sunnier than some, colder than others. Stewart’s shop looked the same as usual, apart from the string of yellow and blue bunting across the front. But it wasn’t the same, it was far, far scarier, because today the Tour people were coming.