The local police had been to visit Beth and had taken a statement and thanks to them and the social media sites Leo’s wanted poster had withered to a trickle. Fergus, under his pseudonym of The Ghast Blaster, had made a concerted effort to make people aware of the dangers of sharing things on social media that you didn’t know were genuine and had found himself spearheading an internet safety campaign. The cold snap had kept both Shirley and Ernie indoors and Beth had been doing fewer shifts at the pub because it had been so quiet.
It was early as Beth shuffled into the kitchen, and it was freezing. She checked the radiator and it was stone cold. She pulled on her floral print beanie hat, puffed out her cheeks and went to look at the boiler. Beth didn’t know what she was looking for but the boiler was old and had been struggling. It appeared that it had now finally died. Now was not good timing as the great outdoors had been reset to arctic, nor was it an ideal time for something expensive. She bundled up a grumbling Leo, completed the school run and then headed straight for the pub.
Petra gave her an odd look. ‘You’re not working today.’
‘No, I’m in need of help,’ she said, pulling off her hat and letting her static hair dance wherever it wanted to. ‘Boiler’s died. I don’t suppose you know of anyone that could replace it without it costing me hundreds?’
Petra pondered for a moment and flicked on the coffee machine as she passed. ‘I make us coffee to help warm our brains and help us think, okay?’
‘Yes, that would be very okay,’ said Beth, pulling up a bar stool and rubbing her hands together.
‘You know what? I might just know somebody.’
‘Yeah?’ said Beth hopefully.
‘Since Leo’s picture was all over the internet I have questioned any new faces that come in just in case they are up to no good and one was a retired plumber. I’ll track him down.’
‘Thank you for checking people out. The pub is one of the first places you’d go to ask.’ She felt reassured to have Petra on her side.
Petra nodded. ‘I won’t be able to grill them when the summer rush starts but for now I am like police officer!’ She laughed at her own joke. ‘Coffee!’ she said, rattling cups, and the machine burred into life.
That evening the cottage was starting to warm up nicely and Beth was handing over twenty-pound notes to a very short Welshman. Petra had made a few calls and finally tracked down someone who restored boilers, and for a bottle of brandy and cash in hand she now had a reconditioned boiler that worked. Beth was pleased with herself for sorting it out without Jack’s help. He hadn’t been to the cottage since the awkward evening with Carly and Fergus, although she had seen him regularly in the village and at college. She knew it was daft but she could barely make eye contact with him and that wasn’t all about the misunderstanding. What Petra had said about her getting close to Jack and then leaving the village had rung true and she was keen to protect her own feelings as much as his. She had been getting close to him, she knew that. They seemed to get on well together and easy relationships like that were hard to find. She needed to move their relationship back to where it was when they were easy-going friends without them getting too involved. Beth wasn’t even sure that it was possible but she wanted to try.
As February drew to a close Beth found herself excitedly locking up the moped at college and almost skipping into class. Tonight they were each choosing a specific item they wanted to make using the lathe and Beth was going to try to recreate a spindle that would hopefully match the others attached to the banister at the cottage.
Tollek was incredibly helpful and kept a watchful eye on her as she secured her wood, or square, in place and set the rpm. for the lathe and rested her carefully chosen chisel on the tool rest. She had used the calipers to measure her wood and mark where she needed to work. She took a deep breath and began.
By the time they got to break, Beth was ready to break something. She had been building up to this for the past few weeks and had been encouraged by what she had achieved but it appeared that tooling a spindle to a specific pattern was quite different, and very much harder than going freehand with your designs.
She had almost completed two and each time she had come to the final delicate beading at the end she had made a mistake and the spindle was ruined. If Tollek hadn’t been so patient and calm she might well have thrown the spindle across the room. She trudged off to the break area behind the others in her group who had all given her their sympathies but nevertheless they all seemed to be doing very well with the things they had chosen to work on. Beth reminded herself that for them this was just a hobby or an opportunity to learn a new skill to keep them out of the wife’s way during retirement. For Beth this was virtually work, she needed to make these spindles or she couldn’t finish the staircase. It was that simple.
She pressed ‘hot chocolate’ on the drinks machine as she needed the extra sugar and watched as the brown sludge foamed into the plastic cup.
‘Hiya,’ said a voice behind her.
Beth gave a quick look over her shoulder but she knew who it was. ‘Hello Jack,’ was all she could manage. She took her drink and went to find somewhere to sit away from people. She was grumpy and it was best that she didn’t inflict that on anyone else. Even the sight of a smiling Jack couldn’t pull her out of this mood although the fact that he’d spoken to her did cheer her a fraction. It was only a spindle, well two to be precise, and what she needed was practice; nobody was instantly amazing, you had to work at it, she told herself. Beth took a sip of the hot chocolate. It was not hot and there was little to indicate that it had ever seen a cocoa bean. She puffed out her cheeks and let out a frustrated blast of air.
‘Boy, you sound fed up. Can I join you?’ asked Jack, sitting down.
‘I’m not sure you want to do that. My grumpiness is probably contagious, you know.’
‘I’ll take the risk,’ he said with a brief smile. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’m a shit wood-turner.’
Jack’s eyebrows shot up; it was rare to hear Beth swear. ‘I’m guessing there isn’t a type of wood called shitwood?’
She looked up through her eyelashes, seeing he was mocking her. ‘No, there isn’t.’ She stared at her drink.
‘So you’re just shit then?’ He tilted his head.
She smiled. ‘Utterly. The spindles for Willow Cottage are super tricky and I keep ruining them.’ Her voice was speeding up.
‘You’ll get the hang of it.’
‘Oh, Jack, I’m rubbish at it and I need to get very good very quickly. Another spindle on the stairs splintered the other day,’ she said, her voice returning to its morose tone.
‘Could you ask for extra lessons?’
‘Money’s a bit tight.’ She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, since it felt uncomfortable to admit this.
He nodded and pulled an understanding face. ‘Could you make simpler spindles for the whole of the staircase?’
She shifted forward in her seat. ‘That is a possibility but it would be a lot of work and a lot more wood.’ She eyed him hopefully; she could see he was thinking up more suggestions and trying to help her solve the problem.
‘Or have alternate ornate ones and plain ones? Or move them around and have plain ones on the landing where nobody will notice.’
‘That could work,’ said Beth. There was a pause and they were both looking intently at the other. Beth felt something ping in her gut and quickly picked up her drink to distract herself. They squished their plastic cups together in an impromptu toast. A moment’s silence followed but for some reason it didn’t feel uneasy.
‘I saw Mittens this morning,’ said Jack, his face creasing into a grin.
‘In or out of the trolley?’
‘On the windowsill at Shirley’s. You know it’s not struck me before but that cat’s markings are quite unusual. I took a photo.’
Beth was pulling an intrigued expression as Jack found the picture on his phone and passed it to her. ‘Remind you of an
yone?’
Beth studied the photo of the mainly white cat with a black splodge on its head over one ear which reminded her of a lopsided beret. As she took in the black smudge under Mittens’s nose she gasped with laughter.
‘Hitler! She looks like Hitler!’
Jack was bobbing his head as he laughed. ‘I know! There’s even a website for cats that look like Hitler, I’m thinking of posting Mittens on it.’
‘She could be the next internet sensation,’ said Beth as the laughter subsided but the grins remained.
‘I had better get back,’ he said, downing the contents of his cup and standing up.
‘Thanks, Jack,’ said Beth. She was feeling a million times better after talking it through with him. He was a good person; it was ridiculous to have ever doubted it.
‘You’re welcome,’ he said as he turned and walked away.
Beth returned to the class with a renewed sense of enthusiasm and a plan. Tollek was at her lathe. She put on her protective goggles and joined him.
Tollek looked up. ‘This design is beautiful. Early Victorian I think but it is tricky.’
‘That’s exactly what I just said to a friend.’ Beth felt her cheeks flush as she said it. It was a nice feeling to think of Jack as being her friend again.
‘But it can be done,’ said Tollek, leaning down and picking up two perfect spindles in his large hand.
Beth was close to jumping up and down on the spot. ‘They’re amazing!’
‘Thank you. Stand behind me and I will show you how I am working the wood. Then you will try, okay?’
‘Definitely!’ said Beth, full of excitement. She only needed nine more and she was good to go!
Beth went to bed with a silly grin on her face. She knew it was silly because it was the grin she had always had until Nick had pointed out that a smile without showing your teeth was so much more refined. She blew a raspberry to Nick and settled down to sleep and tried to ignore the headache that had most likely been brought on by too much excitement.
‘Pinch and punch!’ said Leo as he jumped on his mother’s bed and assaulted her bare arm.
‘Ow!’
He giggled and ran downstairs. ‘Oh, wow, these sticks are cool!’
‘Noooo!’ shouted Beth as she hopped about in one slipper and one arm in her onesie. She dashed downstairs as Leo was waving a spindle about in the manner of a Star Wars light sabre. ‘That’s delicate, please put it down. It took me ages to make.’
‘You made them?’ He put it close to his eyes and studied it. ‘That’s really cool.’
‘Yes. Yes it is,’ said Beth proudly.
Outside it was as if nature had realized it was March and that it should be warming up. The bitterness was gone from the wind but it had unfortunately been replaced by rain. This was not ideal as, having stripped off most of the layers of paint from the staircase, Beth was hoping to get on with sanding the remaining spindles, rail and balustrade. Despite wearing gloves her fingers got sore very quickly from the repeated movement of sanding the delicate spindles with fine sandpaper and the dust was getting to her too.
She was thinking about taking a break when Fergus’s face popped up on her phone. Facetime was a great way to communicate apart from when you were covered in dust.
Fergus started chuckling. ‘You’ve aged since I saw you last!’ he said.
Beth gave her hair a shake and a shower of white dust softly fell around her. She positioned the phone so that Fergus could see her clearly. ‘You can bugger off!’ she said with feeling.
‘Sorry, couldn’t make that out. You know I can’t lip-read swear words,’ he lied.
‘What do you want, you idiot?’ she signed to him as she said the words.
‘That’s better,’ he said with a grin. ‘We’re almost ready for Good Friday. You are still coming, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I’ve got my train tickets and Leo is looking forward to a sleepover at the pub.’ It had been her compromise, as she couldn’t risk taking Leo to London. In Dumbleford they had managed to avoid Nick and his stupid internet missing person hoax but in London she wouldn’t be able to relax if Leo was with her. She didn’t like leaving him but she felt Dumbleford was the safest place for him to be.
Some mid-March sunshine had the children playing on the village green again as the daffodils and crocuses did their best to survive the odd misaimed football. The tree blossom was in full bloom, giving the centre of the village a soft pink hue. Beth loved the springtime. She never expected it to be sunny so was always very pleased when it was. So far there had mainly been rain but today the sun was forcing its way through the crumbly clouds and making everything feel alive as if waking from hibernation. Beth was sitting on a wooden bench watching the boys while she read a book and tried to ignore a niggling headache. She took in a deep breath; the air was clean and scented slightly with a trace of fresh dew. The early signs of spring made Beth feel optimistic but also concerned for how much she still had to do on the cottage, though with the change in season came a new sense of purpose, of starting again, and she began to reorder her to-do list in her mind as she watched Leo dart about.
‘I’m too hot, Mum,’ he complained as he dropped a tangled coat on the bench next to her. She could no longer leave Leo to play outside with Denis, she needed to be with him or be certain he was with someone she trusted to be alert. Nick and his nasty games still dominated her thoughts however hard she tried to push them to the back of her mind.
Her train of thought was broken as Doris barrelled into her. Doris’s wet paws were all over Beth as she scrambled to try to get her paperback to safety.
‘Doris, you great lump,’ she laughed as Doris jumped onto the bench next to her and lay down on Leo’s coat with her head in Beth’s lap and inelegantly lifted a leg so that Beth could stroke her tummy.
Jack sprinted across the green and came to a halt in front of Beth. ‘Sorry,’ he panted. He must be very fit, thought Beth, as just a couple of deep breaths and Jack was breathing normally again. ‘Doris, get down,’ he instructed with a wave of his hand and a reluctant Doris slunk to the floor and lay on Beth’s feet instead.
‘Ow, she’s heavy,’ said Beth and Jack took hold of her collar but Beth touched his arm. ‘No don’t move her. She’s fine.’ Beth felt a pang of guilt for the dog too, she must be even more confused than Leo was about the whole situation. ‘Nice day,’ she added, then instantly wanted to curl up and disappear – how dull did she sound?
Jack raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, it is. Do you mind if I sit down?’ He pointed to the bench.
‘No, of course not, watch out for giant wet paw prints.’ She bundled up Leo’s coat so there was space.
They sat silently, watching Leo and Denis chase after the football. ‘How are things?’ asked Jack with some tension in his voice.
‘Okay thanks. Bit of a headache but … did you mean me or my ex or the cottage?’
‘All of it really.’ Jack gave a half-smile.
‘I think we’re getting there on all counts.’
‘Good,’ said Jack with a nod and they returned to the silence.
‘Oh,’ said Beth, ‘you were right about the whole Tower Bridge proposal thing on Christmas Day. That was Fergus.’
‘I knew it,’ said Jack, looking chuffed. ‘Wow, that guy has style.’
‘Yeah, but he’s come up with an even better plan B to propose to her,’ said Beth, twisting on the bench so she was facing him more.
‘And he’s told you?’ Jack looked surprised.
‘I’ve helped him and I’m going to London next weekend to make sure everything goes to plan.’ Her voice changed and she moved back to watch Leo. ‘It’ll be weird being back in London after all this time.’
‘Do you miss it?’
There was a pause before Beth answered. ‘I did miss it, when we were first here. But now, not so much.’ She hadn’t thought about it recently and seemed to drift off for a moment. ‘Anyway, it’s only for two nights and Petra is having Leo
and they have pizza and Nerf gun wars planned so I’m sure it will be fine.’ She glanced at Jack.
‘You don’t look convinced,’ he said, his tone matter of fact.
Beth’s shoulders dropped. ‘I’m dreading it,’ she said with a small shake of her head. ‘I daren’t take Leo with me and I can’t bear to leave him. But not going isn’t an option either after what happened to the Christmas Day proposal.’ Her speech was speeding up as she explained her predicament.
Jack reached out a tentative hand and placed it on her forearm. ‘Can I get you a coffee?’ She felt something when he touched her and whatever it was it had brought warmth to her face. It was a nice feeling.
‘Yeah, that would be good, thanks.’
Jack reappeared shortly afterwards with two takeaway coffees from the tearooms. ‘I like your hat,’ he said as he sat back down.
‘Cheers. It’s another charity shop find,’ she said as her hand instinctively adjusted the grey engine-driver’s peak.
‘If you like I can keep an eye on Leo while you’re away. He and Denis can walk Doris with me.’ Doris lifted her head momentarily and then flopped back onto Beth’s feet. ‘If the weather’s nice I might organize a penalty shoot-out on the green …’
‘Thanks, Jack, but …’
‘No, I want to. And you need to be there for Carly and help make her dreams come true.’
Beth felt a smile spread. ‘Well, if you put it like that, what else can I do?’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Beth felt like a child as the automatic announcement on the train told her she was arriving at Paddington station. She was filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Most parents longed for time off from their children but she and Leo were close. They always had been, and since Nick and his shenanigans there had been an even stronger pull. Beth was already standing in the aisle adjusting her Merlot-red fedora when the train finally came to a halt. She carried her bag off the train and headed for the tube. Nothing had changed about the Hammersmith and City or Northern lines. The trains looked and smelled like they always had done, the people on them looked exactly the same and the ‘mind the gap’ message was unchanged. It should have been encouragingly familiar but it wasn’t. Every time the train pulled into a station Beth found herself searching every face for Nick. She kept telling herself the further they got from Paddington the less likely she was to bump into him but still the sense of unease grew. There was no reason why he would be on the tube and the chances of him being on the same one as her were infinitesimal but it still didn’t stop her worrying or her skin prickling.
Willow Cottage, Part 3 Page 5