Beth almost ran out of Kentish Town tube station. Her heart was racing and the enormity of what she might be facing was weighing heavy. What was she thinking coming to London? Exactly what would she do if she came face to face with him? Beth took a huge gasp of breath; she needed to pull herself together. He was a nasty piece of work but as far as she knew he wasn’t a murderer and he probably wasn’t psychotic – she needed to calm down and get a grip. Leo was safe. It was her overactive imagination. Beth took another large gulp of air and set off at a steadier pace towards Carly and Fergus’s flat.
What would Beth do if she met him? The more she thought about it the angrier she became. All the analysis she had done over the months had given her so much material and so many reasons to despise Nick. He had been manipulating her and controlling her all along. From the outright ‘No you can’t do that’ to the far more subtle ‘Baby, for me let’s not’. She hated him and would happily shove him in the Thames and hope he swallowed enough germs to wipe out a small nation. But she also hated herself for not spotting it sooner, for brushing away the minor doubts and for believing it would all be all right in the end because he loved her.
Beth realized she was breathing heavily and stepped out of the flow of people and took another moment to calm down. This had to stop. She was done with being on edge, she was done with worrying. If she bumped into him she would stand up to him and tell him straight and then she would call the police and run like hell. She gave herself a congratulatory nod; she had a plan and she felt better for it. Beth held her head high as she turned the corner and approached Carly’s building, her breathing returning to its natural rhythm.
When the hugging and excited yelping had eased Fergus stepped forward and gave Beth a hug. ‘Thanks for coming,’ he said, giving her a sly wink. The afternoon was spent in a pub nearby, the torrential rain keeping them inside. They chatted about everything and nothing with Carly stepping in as interpreter whenever she was needed. Beth noticed how attentive Fergus was, the odd gesture, a touch of the hand or an encouraging smile in the right place. He was a lovely person and very obviously besotted with Carly. Beth smiled to herself. This time tomorrow, she thought, Carly’s going to be the happiest person on the planet.
When Carly paused for breath and went to the toilet, Fergus handed Beth a note.
‘Ooh, this is like a spy thriller,’ she said, taking it from him and reading it as fast as she could.
Trafalgar Square. 4th Plinth. 13.00 – not a second before or after.
‘That’s precise,’ said Beth, folding the note and squirrelling it away in an inside pocket of her handbag where even she might never find it again, let alone anyone else.
‘The company who have organized things said that it starts at one o’clock whether we’re there or not,’ said Fergus, his face solemn.
‘Got it,’ said Beth, feeling under pressure. But it was only a few stops on the tube and it would be no problem getting her there on time.
Fergus’s expression returned to its usual carefree pose and Beth resisted the urge to turn round because she knew that Carly must be returning.
‘Do you want to go to this gig tonight that Fergus is going to?’ asked Carly almost before she’d sat down again.
‘Gig?’ questioned Beth.
‘The Headless Rodents,’ said Fergus, ‘They’re quite good. Each time I see them they’ve got a new lead singer but they play well, covers mainly but some of their own stuff too.’
‘This is a band we’re talking about?’ asked Beth, looking confused.
‘Yes,’ said Carly. ‘And no, he can’t hear them.’
‘Might be a blessing if their name is anything to go by.’ Beth grinned. Fergus stuck his tongue out at her.
‘I miss the music, you both know that, but being in the atmosphere when a band is on reminds me what it was like and how it feels. There’s a bit of a vibration too with live music. I like the vibrations.’ Both the girls sniggered.
‘Filthy, the pair of you,’ said Fergus, shaking his head in mock disapproval.
Beth and Carly both woke up on Good Friday with a touch of wine flu so paracetamol, lots of water and Mamma Mia! on DVD were called for. Fergus left the house at around 10.30 on the pretext of meeting friends for lunch and he and Beth exchanged excited looks as he left. When Carly was finally showered and dressed and looking human Beth thought it was time to head off.
‘Shall we catch a tube to Covent Garden and grab some lunch?’ asked Beth so casually she impressed herself.
‘Tube strike,’ said Carly, equally casual. ‘Let’s have lunch at the deli round the corner, they do these amazing—’
‘No!’ said Beth, the force of the word making her jump a fraction. Carly looked startled. ‘I mean, I miss London so much and I’ve been looking forward to sitting outside.’ Beth glanced out of the window and clocked the rain falling liberally from a heavy grey sky. ‘Or inside at Covent Garden. How about a taxi?’
‘On Good Friday with a tube strike on?’ Carly pulled a face.
Various swear words ran through Beth’s head but nothing useful. ‘We could walk,’ she said eventually, knowing it was a ludicrous suggestion.
‘We’ll be like drowned rats by the time we get there!’
Beth looked at the red-rimmed kitchen clock; at a guess it would be about an hour’s walk. It was more than doable but it was now all about finding the incentive that would propel Carly out into a rain storm.
‘Cleopatra’s needle!’ exclaimed Beth and Carly looked at her suspiciously. ‘Leo has been doing the Egyptians … at school and he wanted me to take a photo of Cleopatra’s needle,’ she said, getting out her phone for emphasis.
‘There’s better stuff at the British Museum …’
‘Nope, has to be Cleopatra’s needle. Then we could have lunch in Covent Garden afterwards … after I’ve taken the photo. Come on,’ said Beth, picking up her black mock croc patent hat that was ideal for rainy weather.
‘It’s nice to see you back in hats,’ said Carly, linking arms with her friend. ‘They suit you.’
‘Thanks,’ said Beth and she mentally prepared herself for the journey.
Beth checked her watch on the sly for about the fifth time in as many minutes. She was finally back on track and it was all going to plan. For the first mile or so Beth had set the pace and found that made Carly too suspicious. They were also covering ground too quickly and in danger of having an hour to kill in Trafalgar Square. They picked up a quick bite to eat in Chinatown and now Carly was wittering on about whether or not she should go back and buy the shoes she’d seen half an hour ago. Beth was only half listening, so she hoped she was saying yes and no in the right places. As they passed the National Portrait Gallery, the stress started to diminish. They were very close to Trafalgar Square now. A few more steps and Beth could really start to relax.
‘Oh, hang on,’ said Carly, stopping dead. ‘I think we could have come a better way for Covent Garden.’
‘What?’ was all Beth could manage; her mouth had gone dry.
‘Yes, let’s go this way.’ Carly turned right and started to walk away. She stopped and looked back as Beth stood motionless with eyes wide as if she’d just received an unexpected injection. ‘Are you okay?’
Beth blinked quickly. She really needed her brain to be on form. ‘Actually, no. I don’t feel right.’
‘Oh, dear. Let’s find somewhere to sit down and have a cup of tea,’ suggested Carly, moving off again.
‘NO!’ shouted Beth, making Carly spin round looking worried. ‘It’s okay. I think what I need is to cool my feet down in the fountain in Trafalgar Square.’ It wasn’t the best plan she’d ever come up with but after a stressful morning it was all she could muster.
Carly giggled then stopped. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Absolutely! Come on,’ said Beth and she walked off towards Trafalgar Square hoping that Carly was following her. She daren’t look back until she was on the square and could see Nelson and the lions
. Carly did a little trot to catch her up.
‘Are you sure you’re all right? You’ve gone all weird.’
‘I’m okay. I want to look at the fourth plinth.’ The fourth plinth had a long history of being the plinth without a statue for some 150 years but a few years ago a project had started using it to display works of art for a few months at a time.
‘Okay,’ said Carly, following Beth as she strode off to the fourth plinth. She stood nearby, ostensibly studying the art installation intently but instead she was scanning the crowd below for Fergus or at least a sign that everything was in place. No matter how much she scanned she could only see a hubbub of tourists milling about aimlessly, some climbing on lions and some taking photos.
Carly huffed at her side. Beth checked her watch; she had about three minutes to kill. They were going to be the longest three minutes of her life. ‘Do you like it?’ asked Beth.
Carly gave the object on the fourth plinth a cursory glance. ‘It’s all right I suppose.’
‘They were going to put up a statue of King William, I forget what number William he was but they ran out of money you know,’ said Beth, wishing she had paid more attention when they had visited in year six. She had only returned for the odd New Year’s Eve celebration and never paid any of the plinths any attention for that matter.
‘Mmm,’ said Carly, her tone bored. ‘Come on, let’s go.’ She turned and started back the way they had come. Beth’s heart rate sped up. She was so close.
‘No, come on. Let’s paddle in the fountain,’ said Beth and she walked past the back of the plinth and down the steps. If Carly would only follow her she would be almost in place. Beth kicked off her shoes and rolled up her skinny jeans as far as she could.
Carly was staring at her. ‘You’ll get arrested,’ she said, subconsciously scanning the square.
‘No, it’s fine, are you coming in?’ said Beth as she climbed onto the edge and stepped into the ice-cold water. She gasped and tried to smile through it, which made her look like an overexcited chimpanzee. One last look at her watch. They were now bang on time. It should happen now … or now … or now …
Beth slowly turned round and looked across Trafalgar Square, as she started to lose sensation in her toes. There were lots of people but there was no Fergus. She could feel the prickles of sweat break out on her forehead and top lip. In direct contrast to her feet, her head was overheating. This was not good.
‘Beth?’
‘I think I feel a little faint,’ whispered Beth and she wasn’t lying. She sat on the side of the fountain with her feet still sloshing in the cold water, got out her bottle of water and took a long slow swig. That killed another two seconds, she thought desperately. Carly was looking at her intently.
‘You don’t look well. Maybe we should go back to the flat?’ Beth looked past her and it made Carly turn to look too. ‘What is wrong? You are acting really strangely, Beth.’
‘I think it’s the heat. If I sit here for a little while I’ll be fine.’ She was starting to sound like Shirley. Before she knew it she’d be pushing a deaf cat around in a wheelie trolley swigging sherry. Old age in Dumbleford had a few perks, she thought.
‘Um, what heat?’ asked Carly. ‘It’s been tipping it down most of the morning and from the looks of it your feet are turning blue.’
They both eyed Beth’s feet as a crisp packet floated past.
‘Not raining now though,’ said Beth, ‘and it’s not too bad when you get used to it.’ She wriggled her toes and took a sly glance at her watch. Two minutes late. Fergus said he would be bang on time, no margin for error he’d said. How much longer could Beth keep Carly in Trafalgar Square?
Jack was killing time jogging round the green. He’d been out for nearly an hour and he wanted to make up the last few minutes. He jogged towards the pub and shook his head as a silver BMW pulled into the already full car park and blocked in two other cars. Easter weekend was always madness in Dumbleford. Everyone seemed to suddenly remember where the pretty villages were and set off en masse. As he jogged past he shook his head at the tall dark-haired man getting out of the BMW: Sunglasses, crisp white shirt and chinos – the uniform of the London crew.
The pub was busy even by bank holiday standards, everyone was working flat out and Petra had just left the bar to help out in the kitchen for a few minutes. The tall stranger stood at the end of the bar and gave a slight smile in Chloe’s direction. He was very handsome and not wearing a wedding ring.
Chloe worked her way down to him. ‘What can I get you?’
‘A soda and lime, please.’
Chloe quickly produced the drink and rang it through the till.
‘Thanks. Actually a friend of mind moved to the area recently and I’m hoping to surprise her,’ he said.
‘That is a nice surprise,’ said Chloe, admiring his neat appearance and good looks although he was far too old for her.
He gave a modest smile. ‘Her name is Elizabeth. Do you know her?’
Chloe thought for a moment and tried hard to ignore the pensioner rapping their fingers on the bar. ‘Sorry, don’t know an Elizabeth.’
‘Oh well, thanks anyway,’ he said sipping his drink before standing up and taking it outside.
There was clattering in the hallway followed by a peal of giggles as Denis and Leo ransacked the crisps. The giggling stopped suddenly, there was a muffled discussion and Denis stepped behind the bar as if he’d been shoved. He eyed the back of the dark-haired man’s head wearily as he shut the pub door behind him. Petra reappeared from the kitchen. Denis kept his eyes on the door as he walked to his mother’s side and tugged at her dress.
‘A moment, Denis,’ she instructed with a hand gesture. He stood silently at her side, staring at the door. ‘Yes, Denis. What is it? I’m busy.’ Denis beckoned his mother to lean down to his level and he whispered in her ear. Petra’s head jolted in the direction of the now closed door but her expression had changed. ‘Okay, Denis, you both go upstairs and I will be up in five minutes.’
She served another customer and then told Chloe that she was taking a quick break. She was doing all she could to appear calm.
Petra exited the bar and scurried upstairs, shutting doors behind her. She rushed into the living room but there was no sign of the boys apart from the abandoned Lego pieces on the floor. ‘Denis? Boys?’ A head popped up from behind the sofa. Denis and Leo were hiding. ‘Come out, it is safe. I promise.’
Leo was fighting hard to stifle sobs and Denis looked both concerned and embarrassed in equal measure. Petra took hold of Leo’s hands. ‘Denis told me who you thought you saw in the bar. Are you sure that it is him?’ she asked in a soft voice.
He nodded and sniffed back a tear. ‘It’s definitely Nick.’
Petra tried hard to hide her alarm. ‘Did he see you?’ she asked. Leo shook his head and she sent up a silent prayer. ‘Okay, we’ll sort this. Please do not worry.’ She pulled Leo into a bear hug and picked up the phone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was a short but highly charged call from Petra and as Jack ended it he jogged across the green. He took a sly photo of the silver BMW on his phone and then a swift elbow to the wing mirror had its alarm blaring. In a few strides Jack was hiding behind the trunk of the willow tree where he watched and waited. Within seconds Nick was up off the picnic bench and striding towards the car where he scanned the car park and cancelled the alarm. Lucky guess, thought Jack. Nick gave the vehicle a cursory look over, checked his watch, got in and drove away, leaving his unfinished drink on the table.
‘All clear, Petra. He’s gone,’ said Jack into his mobile before he made a series of other calls.
Beth rubbed her eyes and checked her phone. There were no messages and no sign of Fergus. She splashed her feet about in the fountain; it wasn’t too bad once she’d got over the shock of the initial temperature. Carly was stood over her looking anxious. ‘Do you think you could be having some sort of breakdown?’
Beth ga
ve a weak smile. Carly might be right but it was not being caused by what Carly thought it was. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Beth saw something. Someone about twenty feet away wheeled in a large black box. As long as it doesn’t contain a Hitler lookalike cat we could be in business, thought Beth.
Carly put her hands on her hips. ‘It’s not that warm and you’ve been wearing a hat all morning, so I don’t think you’ve got heat stroke,’ she said, as music started up behind her. Beth felt the sense of relief wash over her like poured honey. Carly was still looking at Beth but as Beth stood up and looked past her into the square she turned and followed her gaze.
A single girl stood on her own a few feet in front of the box as it played ‘Moves Like Jagger’ by Maroon 5 and she was moving in time to the rhythm. As soon as she started into a simple dance routine two more girls joined her and they continued dancing in perfect time with each other. Every few seconds more dancers joined in. Two men came and stood near Beth and Carly and they were watching too.
‘Watch your bag,’ said Carly cautiously.
‘Okay,’ said Beth and she started to clap along. The music changed to ‘Call Me Maybe’ by Carly Rae Jepsen and the two men ran and back-flipped into the routine.
‘Wow!’ said Beth, as at least thirty people were now dancing.
‘Is this one of those flashy thingys?’ asked Carly, turning to look at Beth who was stepping along in time to the music, splashing water everywhere.
Willow Cottage, Part 3 Page 6