‘I think it was some last-minute thing,’ said Saffron absently, as she started to dig Mrs Meadows’ flowerbed over, ready for spring planting. ‘Don’t look so tragic.’ Amy’s thoughts were plain to see. ‘I doubt very much that Ben is going to find love on the ski slopes.’
‘I’m not, as you put it, looking tragic,’ said Amy, chucking some leaves at Saffron, before putting the rest of them in the bag. ‘Even if, and it’s a big if, I was interested in Ben, it’s not as though I can do anything about it. We’re both free agents. He can do what he likes.’
‘Hmm, you sound so convincing,’ said Saffron.
‘Oh do shut up,’ said Amy, giggling. ‘Otherwise I might just be tempted to shove these leaves down your neck.’
The following Saturday morning, Amy and Josh found themselves on the allotments. There wasn’t much to do at this time of year, but as this was her first year here, Amy wanted to plan her plot for the spring. She had managed to get some onion sets in at the end of November, and was pleased to see they were doing well. Her seedbeds were carefully covered over with old carpet to prevent the weeds from growing – a tip Harry had kindly passed on. A few of her raspberry canes had fallen over in the recent winds, and she’d tied them up again, but really there wasn’t much to keep her busy.
Very few people seemed to be out and about. Hardly surprising, really. Though the sun was out, it was freezing, and the wind whipped through her and Josh, who had soon had enough and was demanding to go home.
‘In a minute,’ said Amy. ‘I just want to find Harry and borrow his seed catalogues to order some potatoes. Come on, you know it’s nice and warm in his hut. And he might have a biscuit if you’re lucky.’
Thus mollified, Josh put his hand in hers, and they walked past Scary Slug Man, who was muttering his usual incantations, towards Harry’s hut.
Harry came to greet them with a steaming cup of tea.
‘How are you both?’ he beamed. ‘We haven’t seen much of you down here lately.’
‘We’ve been a bit busy,’ said Amy. ‘It feels like we’ve gone straight from Christmas into meltdown without a break.’
‘I ran away from school,’ said Josh proudly as he sat on Harry’s comfy old sofa eating a chocolate biscuit.
Harry raised his eyebrows.
‘It’s nothing to be proud of,’ said Amy. ‘And you’re not doing it again, are you?’
Josh pulled a face. ‘No-o-o,’ he said. ‘I know, I know. It’s dangerous and I could have got hurt.’
‘What happened?’
Amy gave Harry a potted version of events, missing out the kiss as Josh was sitting there all ears.
‘Well, young man, I hope you’ve learned your lesson,’ said Harry.
‘Of course,’ said Josh indignantly. ‘I’ve already told you.’
‘And why wouldn’t we believe you?’ said Amy, laughing. ‘Come on, we’d better get you home for some lunch. Fancy popping in for a bite, Harry?’
‘I think I might,’ said Harry. ‘I spot Edie at four o’clock, no doubt bearing gifts of fruitcake and coffee. I need an excuse to avoid her.’
‘I’m an excuse now, am I?’ Amy asked in mock petulant tones. ‘I like that.’
‘And I can’t think of a better one,’ was Harry’s gallant response. ‘I’ll just tidy up here and follow you home. I shouldn’t be long.’
In fact, Harry was quicker than Amy had envisaged. She had only been in a couple of minutes when there was a knock on the door.
‘Phew,’ said Harry. ‘That was a close one. Edie nearly got me, but I managed to escape. I swear that woman is after my body.’
‘Stranger things have been known,’ said Amy, laughing as she poured Harry a cup of tea.
Josh had settled down in the lounge and was playing a complicated game with his Action Man, so Amy and Harry sat chatting in the kitchen.
‘Is Josh all right now?’ asked Harry.
‘I think so,’ said Amy. ‘He gave himself as much of a fright as he gave me. So I’m hoping he doesn’t do it again.’
‘Any idea why he did it?’
Amy paused, but Harry’s ready sympathy was enough to release the floodgates and she found herself pouring out the whole story.
‘It’s not as though I want a relationship with anyone,’ she said, ‘but I feel so guilty about Josh seeing what happened. I should have thought about him more.’
‘Amy, you’re an attractive young woman,’ said Harry. ‘You can’t go round wearing a hair shirt for the rest of your life. And Josh will have to get used to the idea that one day you’ll find him a new dad. Give him time, I’m sure he’ll come round.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘I know so,’ said Harry. ‘Trust me. I’m a wise old owl, and there isn’t much about human behaviour that I haven’t seen before.’
‘One thing that’s been puzzling me, though,’ said Amy, ‘is why Josh suddenly turned against Ben. He was quite happy at fireworks night. And he even said he wanted Ben for a dad. But then, before Christmas, he told his granny he didn’t want me to marry Ben. And now this. It does seem a bit odd.’
‘Do you want me to have a chat with him about it?’ asked Harry. ‘Perhaps another point of view might help.’
‘Well, if you don’t mind,’ said Amy. ‘Because I’d hate to think I’ve scarred him for life.’
‘Now that I doubt very much,’ said Harry, patting her hand. ‘Any chance of another cuppa?’
Ben strode across the allotments, his spade over his shoulder. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. It was so good to be back. Thanks to a severe dose of the winter vomiting bug (no doubt picked up from some of the patients he’d seen at Christmas), his stay at his parents’ had ended up prolonged till after the New Year. He had come back halfway through the week, got immersed in work and had still been feeling so wiped out from the bug he hadn’t seen anyone since he’d been back.
He breathed in the fresh, crisp air. Though it had been good to spend more time than normal with his parents, it was nice to get away from his mother’s endless ministrations. It was hard not to feel suffocated at home, and he felt free for the first time in a week.
He pottered about tidying up his allotment. He was only growing a few lettuces in his improvised cold frames. Harry had been watering them for him. But being here was therapeutic, and he did need to dig over the vegetable patch, ready for sowing in the spring. At least, that’s the excuse he’d given himself. Really he was hoping he’d see Amy. It would be easier than going over there.
He felt bad about Amy. About the way he’d left her to deal with Josh, and then not contacted her. Ben had kidded himself she needed time on her own. But now he wasn’t sure. The truth was, he hadn’t known what to do. Or say. So he had done nothing. Said nothing. She had every right to be cross with him. He wished he were better at this sort of thing.
‘Hello, old boy.’ Harry emerged from his hut sipping coffee, which had a distinctly medicinal smell to it. ‘Good trip?’
‘Okay,’ said Ben, trying to appear noncommittal. ‘But it’s good to be back. Should you really be drinking whisky at this time in the morning?’
‘Oh do stop nagging. Anyone would think you’d had a bad time.’
‘I’ve had better holidays,’ admitted Ben.
‘Seen Amy yet?’ Harry nodded in the direction of her garden gate.
‘Er, no,’ said Ben.
‘When you do, take it easy,’ said Harry. ‘Josh has been giving her a tough time, and she feels it’s all her fault.’
‘What kind of a hard time?’ Ben felt lousier than ever.
Harry filled Ben in on Josh’s attempt at running away.
‘The last person she needs to see is me,’ said Ben. ‘I presume she told you what happened?’
‘She did,’ Harry replied. ‘So what’s your story?’
Ben shrugged his shoulders.
‘I like Amy,’ he said, ‘more than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. But she’s vulnerable. And she has Josh
. I think it’s pretty much a non-starter, don’t you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Harry. ‘Give her time. And give Josh time. I’d say all is not lost just yet.’
‘Harry, you’re a hopeless old romantic,’ Ben told him. ‘But this time, I think you’re wrong.’
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‘What on earth am I doing?’ Saffron wondered aloud as she sat staring at her computer screen. A trawl of pole-dancing classes online had come up with a huge haul. She was amazed that there were so many classes locally, though she was amused and not surprised to discover there seemed to be more on the Essex side of the river than the Suffolk side. They ranged from the Pole Kittens she was looking at, who seemed vaguely respectable, to the Hot Vixens Luv Dancin’, who most decidedly didn’t, the venue their classes were held being a rather seedy pub that held stripper sessions on a Sunday lunchtime. Saffron was only privy to this information because it was one of Gerry’s less salubrious habits to totter over there in his youth, when he’d had a few, and one of the many reasons why she thanked God daily for no longer being married to him.
Thinking about Gerry made her wonder again why she was even contemplating doing this. She and Pete were fine. They were jogging along quite happily together. And now that she’d stopped breastfeeding (the spouting breasts at Christmas had been A Sign, she was sure), their sex life was slowly improving.
But it wasn’t what it had been. She needed a lot more to get herself going these days, and even Pete’s suggestion of watching exotic videos together hadn’t helped. Exhausted by the combination of motherhood and work, she found herself falling into bed most nights, with sex the last thing on her mind. Pete was forever telling her it didn’t matter, he was often tired too – but suppose, just suppose, that it did matter.
Saffron sighed. She couldn’t face the Vixens, and the Pole Kittens looked a bit too glamorous for her. She turned over the leaflet Linda had given her. It might be embarrassing to go to a class where you knew the teacher. But on the other hand, Linda was a laugh. For all her brashness and new money (her husband, Johnny the Brickie, had made money in the building trade, from what Saffron suspected were nefarious practices), Linda was very good-hearted. She’d mentioned the classes to Saffron again, the last time Saffron had been round (thankfully on her own – Amy had been on another job). Oh bugger it, thought Saffron, picking up the phone. What have I got to lose? My pride. My dignity. My self-respect. She looked again at the leaflet.
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Amy was doing the washing-up, staring aimlessly out of the window. Despite everything, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Ben. She hadn’t seen him for over two weeks and she missed him. And though she knew, for Josh’s sake, there could be nothing more than friendship between them, she still hoped that they could have that at least.
The doorbell rang, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
She went to the door and opened it.
‘Ben.’ Her mouth was as dry as powder.
‘Amy – is it –? Can I come in?’ He seemed hesitant, awkward.
‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘Though I can’t guarantee you’ll get a great reception from Josh.’
Josh was sitting at the kitchen table, drawing. He shot Ben a dirty look, but otherwise ignored him.
‘Tea?’ Amy asked, thinking, why do we always offer tea when we feel awkward? People had made her pints of the stuff when Jamie died.
‘No, thanks,’ said Ben. ‘I’m not staying long. I just popped by to wish you a Happy New Year.’
‘That’s nice, isn’t it, Josh?’
‘Suppose,’ grunted Josh, and went back to his drawing.
‘What are you drawing?’ Ben asked.
Josh sat up, shot him a look of pure hatred, and said, ‘I’m drawing Dr Octopus. He’s got you in his grips and Spidey isn’t going to rescue you. So there.’
He flung the paper on the floor and ran off upstairs.
‘Josh!’ Amy called in horror.
‘Leave him,’ said Ben. ‘I know why he did that, and I’m not upset.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Amy. ‘You see how things are.’
‘I do,’ said Ben, resisting the urge to stroke her cheek. ‘I just wanted to come round to say I’m sorry for causing such a mess. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.’
‘It’s okay,’ Amy replied, her eyes brittle with unshed tears. ‘It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.’
‘But we can still be friends?’
‘Of course,’ said Amy. ‘I’ll talk to Josh again.’
‘Good,’ said Ben. Then, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek, he was gone.
It was only later on that Amy realised she had no idea where Ben had been. Or with whom.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘Hi, Mary?’ Amy was on the phone as Harry poked his head round her front door. She waved him into the lounge, while continuing her conversation. ‘Yes. A happy New Year to you too. How was the cruise?’
‘Be with you in a minute,’ she mouthed to Harry. She had rung Mary more for Josh’s sake than hers, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that her call had been greeted, if not with warmth, with tepidity at least.
‘Yes, we had a lovely Christmas, thanks … Josh has been asking after you.’ Amy took a deep breath and plunged right in, ‘So we were wondering, would you like to come for a weekend soon?’
Nothing like holding out an olive branch. To her surprise (and considerable relief), Mary said yes, she would love to come. They agreed to consult their respective diaries and Mary promised to ring back when she had worked out her availability.
‘Phew!’ said Amy as she put down the phone. ‘My mother-in-law appears to have forgiven me at last.’
‘Ah,’ said Harry. ‘I have something I was going to tell you about your mother-in-law.’
‘Oh, what would that be, then?’ Amy was puzzled. Harry hadn’t met Mary; what could he possibly know about her that Amy hadn’t already told him?
‘I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ said Harry. ‘When I had that chat with Josh, it seemed to me that it was Mary who put the idea into his head that Ben wasn’t to be encouraged. In fact, I’d go further and suggest she might have even given Josh the impression that you’d lose interest in him if you got married again.’
‘She didn’t!’ Amy was shocked. ‘How dare she? I’ve a good mind to ring her back.’
‘Amy, Amy, think about it,’ said Harry. ‘Your mother-in-law has lost everything. She’s a widow and her only son was killed. And you’ve taken the one person she’s got left away from her. Is it any wonder she’s bitter? Or that she’s taking it out on you?’
Amy sighed. She ran her hands through her curls, which were falling over her shoulder, and piled them back behind her ears. Angry as she was, she had to acknowledge her own responsibility in this.
‘I’m mad as hell, but you’re probably right,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t have managed in the first few months after Jamie died without Mary. She was stoical and strong when I was falling apart. She even encouraged me to keep up with my gardening course, which I’d have given up otherwise. I wouldn’t be here now without her. I suppose it’s inevitable she’d feel rejected.’
‘People do strange things when they’re grieving,’ said Harry. ‘She probably didn’t even think about what she was saying.’
‘And she is Josh’s granny, whatever my current feelings towards her are,’ said Amy. ‘So I’ll just have to bite the bullet and not say anything. It is my fault too. I’m the one who left her behind. Do you think that was wrong of me?’
‘Amy, I can’t say what was wrong and what was right,’ said Harry. ‘Why did you d
ecide to leave?’
‘Lots of reasons,’ said Amy. ‘Jamie and I had always talked about coming out this way. I felt I needed a new start. And, well, with the best will in the world, I was beginning to find it utterly claustrophobic living in the shadow of Mary’s constant devotion. So I didn’t feel I had any choice really. I still don’t.’
‘Well then,’ said Harry. ‘That’s all that matters. Everything will be well, Amy, you’ll see.’
‘Mum, are you sure you’re okay to babysit?’ Saffron was worried. Ever since Christmas her mum hadn’t seemed herself. ‘You still look a bit peaky.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Go on, off you go, you two. You deserve a night off.’
It was Saffron’s birthday and they had planned a night out. Gerry had been supposed to have Becky and Matt, but as usual blew them out, so Elizabeth now had all three children to look after. In her current state of health, Saffron was worried it was asking too much of her mother, but on the other hand, she and Pete hadn’t been out for ages, they weren’t going far, and Elizabeth was very insistent.
They strolled hand in hand down the road into town. At the far end of the high street was a little Italian called Al Fresco’s, although, despite the presence of patio heaters for the tables and chairs in the small courtyard outside, the January chill was enough not to tempt them there. They were ushered to a table in the corner. The restaurant had murals on the wall, and wooden tables. It was small and cosy, and they were close enough to the kitchen to hear the chef shouting orders. The waiters were friendly, the service quick, and they soon found themselves chomping their way through pasta, salads and tiramisu, topped up with lashings of red wine.
‘I am so going on a diet next week,’ said Saffron, pushing back her plate. She wished she had the self-control to resist puddings, but when God gave out those genes, he clearly hadn’t endowed her with that one.
‘You don’t need to diet,’ said Pete. ‘Diets are bad for you.’
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