The afternoon whizzed by in a flurry of natter. Carly caught up with Leo over a game of Top Trumps before they headed to the Bleeding Bear. They had dinner at the pub because Beth still only had the two chairs, and then went on to choosing budget furniture from the Internet via Beth’s phone whilst sipping wine. Sadly, the solid wood half-circle coffee table was well out of Beth’s price range so it would have to wait until the next property she renovated. Her plan was to reuse the furniture to dress each place for sale so she needed statement items. It was all about selling people the lifestyle; a little slice of a lifestyle she used to live back in London.
When Beth was still awake in the early hours she mulled over whether Doris was a better bed partner than Carly. At least Doris had stuck to her side most of the time, even if the snoring and doggy breath had been a bit much. Carly seemed to roll up against Beth regardless of how many times she rolled her back.
The next morning Carly was up quite early and was full of excitement at meeting the cast and minor celebrities of the panto. By nine o’clock she had been whisked away in a taxi. There was still no contact from Jack. Nevertheless, Beth had his business card and wondered about calling him but didn’t know where he was or what he was doing or even if he was allowed calls. She’d got used to seeing him each morning when he dropped Doris off; he had become part of her new routine and so it felt odd that he was suddenly not about. Surely she wasn’t missing his playful teasing and general usefulness? Despite her best efforts to keep her imaginings in check, Beth was starting to wonder about Jack. He had been helpful to her, kind even, but she actually knew very little about him. Could he be a spy? And, if so, where was he right now?
With Doris tired out after a brisk walk and now safely in her dog cage at Jack’s for a couple of hours, Beth did a lunchtime shift at the pub which she enjoyed. It was more about taking food orders than it was about the drinks and everyone was friendly. Over the course of a few shifts, she had added names to some faces she had seen around the village and now, when she left the cottage, more and more people called her by name.
Beth borrowed a chair from the pub so that the three of them could at least eat together and decided to make her sweet potato and coconut curry while Leo and Carly took it in turns to update her on their day. Doris was sitting next to Beth and leaning into her leg as she prepared the sweet potatoes.
‘… and the Romans ruled our country for nearly four hundred years! The Romans lived here in the Cotswolds too. Me and Denis are learning partners and we’re going to build a Roman fort!’
‘Wow, the Romans were cool!’ enthused Carly.
‘They had battle plans and their army was the best,’ added Leo, nodding sagely as he did so. ‘They brought new plants with them, too, that still grow in this country.’
Beth turned round. ‘Which ones?’
‘There was one with yellow flowers and one that was just green leaves. I’ll go and see if we have any in the garden.’
‘Coat!’ instructed Beth, making Leo do a pirouette in the kitchen. He dashed past seconds later with his coat half on and Doris at his heels carrying the latest of a series of destroyed footballs in her mouth.
‘He likes it here,’ observed Carly.
‘He’s definitely more enthusiastic about school. The small class really seems to help bring things alive for him.’
‘That’s really good. By the way, the panto is hilarious. You must come.’
‘Tell me all about it, then.’
‘It’s the usual Snow White story: pretty girl, handsome prince, cute little people, singing and dancing with some modern gags for the grown-ups.’
‘Does the prince still kiss Snow White when he thinks she’s dead? That bit creeps me out now I’m an adult …’ but Beth noticed Carly wasn’t listening. ‘What’s up?’ she asked as she checked the rice.
‘I’ve not heard from Fergus. I’ve been texting him on and off all day but he’s not replied.’
‘Are you worried?’
‘Nope, I think he’s sulking.’
Beth looked at Carly’s pouting lips and long face. ‘What are you going to do about your relationship?’
Carly stared at the kitchen floor. Beth liked looking at the newly oiled floor too. She saw something different in it each time she studied it but she doubted that was what was holding Carly’s attention. ‘I don’t know,’ said Carly eventually, and when she looked up tears were already escaping.
After two bottles of wine, another night sharing a bed with Carly didn’t seem so bad but for some reason Doris was uneasy. She had stayed close to Beth all day and, although Beth didn’t credit her with a great amount of intelligence, she did feel that Doris was missing Jack. When she scratched at the door for the fifth time, Beth relented and let her in. Doris dived onto the bed and settled down with her glum face resting on her paws. Beth attempted to shove her a bit further down the bed and then tried to curl up in the remaining quarter of it. It was going to be a long night.
It was an odd sound that woke Beth, a sort of snapping noise. She tried to ignore it but its rhythm told her it wasn’t the local wildlife and she had to investigate. She groaned as she extricated herself from the overcrowded bed, slipped into her unicorn onesie and went to investigate. She was scratching her head as she looked out of the living-room window. It was difficult to see but there appeared to be someone doing something to the willow tree. She walked to the hall and let out a huge yawn as she opened the front door.
‘I’m sorry, did I wake you?’ asked a chirpy Jack.
‘Shh,’ said Beth pointing up to her bedroom window. ‘They’re still asleep. What are you doing?’
‘Pruning the willow,’ said Jack, as if it was the most normal thing ever. She must have left the bedroom door open as Doris came hurtling out of the house and cannoned into Jack who, Beth noted, was strong enough to catch her and absorb the impact. Had it been her she would be lying on her back like at her first encounter with Doris a few months ago.
‘She must have heard your voice,’ said Beth, aware she was stating the obvious, but it was early. Jack was fussing Doris and half wrestling with the delighted mutt.
‘Coffee?’ said Beth, as she shuffled back into the cottage emitting another seismic yawn.
Coffee was drunk in virtual silence as Doris sat directly in front of Jack with her chin in his lap gazing up at him with a look of total adoration.
‘It must be nice to be loved that much,’ said Beth, then instantly wondered why she’d said it out loud.
Jack grinned his lopsided grin. ‘Yeah, but does she appreciate it?’
Beth was grateful to him for deflecting her statement with humour.
‘I think we may have solved the mystery of why Doris hates Shirley’s trolley.’ Jack looked intrigued and tilted his head expectantly. ‘Shirley pushes her cat, Mittens, around in it!’
‘Mittens is still alive?’
‘And still quick on the draw,’ said Beth, showing him her scratched knuckles.
Jack snorted a laugh. ‘That explains a lot. No wonder Doris goes nuts every time she sees it.’ Doris pricked up her floppy ears as much as she could at the mention of her name and Jack resumed the ear rub.
‘Is it safe to assume that whatever was so urgent with work is all sorted now?’ She had to ask.
‘Yeah. All sorted,’ he said flatly.
Carly suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs and hurried into the kitchen, pulling her jumper down to cover her pyjama shorts. ‘What is it exactly that you do then?’
‘IT consultant,’ said Jack, his voice even as he broke eye contact and continued stroking Doris’s dark floppy ears.
‘We kinda thought that was your cover,’ said Carly, flicking the switch on the kettle. ‘You know, so people don’t think you’re a spy.’
‘We?’ said Beth. ‘Leave me out of this little fantasy.’
Jack chuckled lightly. ‘I’m not a spy.’
Beth sipped her drink. ‘That’s exactly what a spy would say.
’
Jack’s smile was rueful. ‘True, but I’m not one. It’s technical surveillance. I have some specialist expertise that gets called on from time to time.’
Beth was nodding but she wasn’t sure why. ‘I have no idea what that means.’
‘Nor me,’ said Carly, making herself a cup of tea.
He stopped fiddling with Doris’s ears and gave the women his full attention. ‘The Ministry of Defence has the single largest computer network in Europe. Their systems log more than one million suspicious incidents every twenty-four hours. There are thousands of cyber-attacks every day and each day they get more complex. Occasionally, they have a close call and I join the GCHQ team to get it resolved quickly. I’m on contract to them.’
Carly had joined in the nodding. ‘GCHQ, that’s in Cheltenham; that’s near here,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how I know that. Is it okay that I know that?’
Jack snorted. ‘Yeah, that’s fine, it’s not a secret.’
‘Do you get to meet real James Bond types?’ asked Carly, as she came to rest on the wall near to Jack, her jumper riding up a little.
Beth noted that Jack averted his eyes. ‘No, not really. Anyway, in real life James Bond would be behind a desk doing loads of paperwork.’
‘But what about having a licence to kill?’ asked Carly.
Jack shook his head.
‘You’re deliberately spoiling it now!’
Carly and Doris went home and things returned to some semblance of normality. A few days later, Beth’s living-room carpet was finally fitted as were some inside shutters for the windows as Beth hated curtains. Shortly afterwards, the furniture she had ordered online arrived. Two simply styled deep purple sofas now dominated the living room. She still didn’t have a coffee table but it wasn’t an essential. She had bought an ornate photo frame a couple of weeks ago and now Elsie and Wilf’s photo had pride of place on the windowsill. Leo was desperate to have a television again but she wanted to save the money she’d earned at the pub for Christmas. But would Christmas be Christmas without a television? It was a double-edged sword. For now she’d stick to the plan and perhaps she could get a television in the January sales.
A busy lunchtime shift had Beth realizing that flat shoes were the way to go. She was waiting on the other side of the bar for Petra who was making up her wages. As she leaned on the bar and eased her feet out of their shoe prison, she moaned with relief just as Jack appeared.
‘You all right?’
‘My feet are literally killing me. I think they are starting by eating my toes and then working their way up.’
He chuckled. ‘Can I get you a drink or is this the last place you want to be?’
‘A drink would be great. An orange juice, thanks.’
They found a table and slipped into an amiable chat.
‘How are the feet?’
‘Relenting but they’re not looking forward to another shift tonight. Apparently it’ll be a busy one because they’re switching on the Christmas tree lights.’
‘Annual event on the green,’ said Jack. ‘Is someone taking Leo?’
‘I can’t and Petra is working too, so Leo and Denis will be in here.’
‘I could take them both, if you like?’ said Jack, with a shrug.
‘Thanks. They’d love that.’
‘What are your plans for Christmas?’ asked Jack, sipping his Diet Coke.
‘Presents first thing, then lunchtime shift here followed by a late dinner and too many chocolates. How about you?’
‘I’d not thought about it until you mentioned the lights switch-on. I guess I’ll come here with the other waifs and strays.’
‘What about your parents?’
Jack looked like he was considering his answer or perhaps he was considering whether to answer or not. ‘It was only ever my mum and she’s with a guy that … well, we don’t get on. I’ll drop by on Christmas Eve and we’ll swap presents but that’s all.’
‘Family can be complicated like that,’ said Beth and they both nodded and took synchronized sips of their drinks.
‘How about your mum and dad?’
How could she tell him that she was giving them a wide berth in case it tipped off Nick as to her whereabouts? She went for a censored version of the truth.
‘They’re away for Christmas, making the most of retirement, so we’ll catch up with them some other time.’
‘What about Leo’s father?’ asked Jack, as casually as he’d asked about Christmas.
Beth felt her pulse quicken; this was a piece of her past that she rarely shared. ‘He’s not with us any more. He was killed before Leo was born.’
‘Killed?’
‘He was a soldier. Mortar attack.’ She found sticking to facts made it somehow easier to explain. Their relationship had been tragically cut short but nearly seven years later she had moved on, taking the fond memories with her.
Jack’s face looked pained. ‘I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘It’s okay. I mean, it wasn’t okay, but you carry on. I was lucky I had Leo to focus on.’ They exchanged knowing nods. Beth finished her drink. ‘I’d better get going. Thank you for the drink.’
‘Sure. I’ll pick the boys up from here just before six then.’
‘Great. Thanks, Jack. That will make their day.’
It was almost midnight and Carly was on the sofa in the flat watching every juddery tick of the clock. She’d been stewing gently all evening and, now that Fergus was nearly an hour later than he’d said he would be, she was coming to a perfect simmer. The front door clicked and she stood up ready to ambush him. Fergus tried to hold onto the door as he staggered inside, grinning inanely. He was drunk.
‘Carly!’ He swayed precariously towards her. ‘Carly Wilson. I love you.’ He emphasized the point by wagging a finger in her face. If she hadn’t built herself up into such a strop she might have laughed. He started to frown and leaned forward. The smell of drink was overpowering. ‘Did you hear me?’ he said. ‘I love you!’
Carly started to sign and Fergus closed his eyes. ‘Not reading, not reading!’ he chanted. ‘If you’re telling me off, I don’t want to know.’ He opened one eye. Carly had stopped signing and was giving him a long hard stare. When she lifted her hands to sign again he quickly shut his eyes tight. He looked quite childlike and vulnerable as he stood there swaying slightly. He was still grinning as he tentatively opened an eye. Carly was not seeing the funny side of the situation. She knew it was funny but she wanted to be cross with him, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.
‘Come on, Carls. Where’s the fun gone?’
He was right. The fun had gone. She hadn’t noticed it slip away but somehow it had. When did he start going out and getting drunk without her? When did she start clock-watching and gaining a sense of gratification when he was late? This wasn’t how they used to be but she wasn’t sure how to put things straight. The silence seemed to close in around her as she started to realize everything that was at stake.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, and he read her lips.
Fergus steadied himself and came towards her. He pulled her tenderly into a hug and they both cried gently as he rocked her in his arms. ‘I don’t know either, Carls. I wish I did.’
After a few minutes they pulled apart and studied each other’s tear-stained faces.
‘This is crazy,’ said Fergus very quietly as he pushed his fingers through his wayward hair.
Carly nodded. He was right. ‘You sit down and I’ll get you a strong coffee.’
When she returned there was no sign of Fergus but she could hear a noise like a frantic burrowing badger coming from the cupboard.
‘Found them!’ called Fergus, before he marched into the room with a box under one arm and dragging the artificial Christmas tree behind him.
Carly raised an eyebrow and placed his coffee down a safe distance away.
‘Let’s decorate the Christmas tree,’ he said enthusiastically. Carly stood quietl
y watching him and thinking. She was thinking about the other years they had done this and reminisced about the year gone by. This year’s memories weren’t going to make it such a fun occasion. She watched as he put up the tree and, with his hands on his hips, surveyed it proudly, even though it was the easiest thing to erect. ‘Come on, Carls, let’s do this together,’ he said, taking her hand.
Chapter Twenty
The Christmas tree on the village green was now lit up every night and its multi-coloured lights and flashing star on the top were a sight that warmed the most ‘bah humbug’ of hearts. Ernie had taken to standing in front of it for at least thirty minutes at a time until someone took him off for a cup of tea and a warm-up. Every time Beth passed the tree, she felt the little sparkle of Christmas glimmer inside her as well as the usual growing anxiety that she wasn’t ready for it yet. The few shifts at the pub were bringing in enough money for their day-to-day needs, leaving her depleted savings to pay for utilities and the remaining work on the cottage. Thanks to Beth grabbing her glue gun when she left Nick, she had a way to make Christmas presents for people and she always felt that homemade gifts were so much nicer – something that Nick had flatly disagreed with. Now that the Christmas meals were in full swing the tips were adding up, too. Perhaps a TV wasn’t out of the question.
Beth’s phone rang. It was Carly. ‘Fergus has gone …’
‘What?’ Beth quickly digested all that this could mean.
‘I was at work and he texted to say his grandmother had been taken ill and he was going to Ireland.’
Beth felt a sense of relief that it wasn’t one of the more disastrous scenarios her mind had conjured up.
‘But he’ll be back when she gets better.’
‘I don’t think so. He’s taken some of his computer stuff from the playroom. Not all of it but don’t you think it’s odd to take stuff like that if you’ve been called to a sick relative?’
Beth pulled a face. ‘I don’t know.’
‘He’s taken his ukulele. I think he’s left me, Beth.’
And there it was, the statement Beth had been dreading. ‘I think he would have said if he was going to do that. What else did he take?’
Escape to Willow Cottage Page 18