Pastures New

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Pastures New Page 20

by Julia Williams


  ‘Oh lord, yes.’ Caroline looked coy. ‘Ben’s the only person I’ve ever considered marrying. But like I said, I’m a free spirit, me. And gorgeous and all as he is, even Ben couldn’t keep me in dull old Nevermorewell. But at least I’ve got him to entertain me while I’m here.’

  Amy opened her mouth and shut it again. She couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  ‘Well, nice and all as it has been chatting, I can’t stay round here all day,’ said Caroline. ‘I’d best get back. Ben said he might pop back at lunchtime, and I promised I’d make him a spicy lentil stew. It’s one of his favourites. You know what men are like, they never eat properly when they’re on their own, do they? And he’s got shockingly thin in my absence. I need to build him back up – in every way.’

  Forty–love to you, thought Amy silently, as she saw Caroline out. In one fell swoop, Caroline had claimed Ben as her own. She tried to think back to what, if anything, Saffron had told her about Ben’s love life. She couldn’t remember any mention of Caroline. Was it possible that Ben was one of Caroline’s conquests? Suppose he was? And it had been serious? Where did that leave Amy now? Amy owed it to Ben to wait to hear his version of events, but in the light of such overpowering certainty, Amy wasn’t at all sure that she was going to like what she heard.

  Saffron sat down and relaxed with a welcome glass of wine. What would already have been a tough week without Pete had turned into a nightmare with her mum being ill. Without Amy and Ben she didn’t know how she would have coped. Thankfully, Elizabeth continued to improve, and was hoping to come home early next week. Mindful of how much time Saffron had spent away from the children, Elizabeth was now insisting that Saffron get home early in the evening and put her feet up. ‘You’ve done enough for your old mum,’ she’d said.

  So now Saffron was home, trying to relax and not worry about work. With all the turmoil going on, she hadn’t managed to do much gardening, and again was grateful to Amy for holding the fort. What she’d do without her she couldn’t imagine. Amy had doubled her workload this week by going out to see Saffron’s clients as well as her own. The only upside to them having lost so many jobs was that at least Amy had been able to keep on top of the ones they had managed to retain. Which, given that she had been taking the children along with her, was the only silver lining to the cloud that loomed over the business.

  Saffron frowned. Perhaps it was time to be a bit proactive and turn detective. She would begin by asking her remaining regulars if they knew what was going on – in fact, Linda would be a good place to start. She knew practically everyone in Nevermorewell.

  Saffron lay back on the sofa watching the TV in a desultory fashion. She should go to bed really, but she was hoping Pete would phone. She couldn’t wait for him to come home.

  She was jolted out of her musings by a crash in the back garden. Heart beating, and wishing more than ever that Pete were here, she turned the light off and drew the lounge curtains. The security light had flooded on, and she could make out a pot that had smashed across the path. Odd. It wasn’t windy. Perhaps it was a fox.

  She felt a sudden clutch of fear. Or maybe it was an intruder.

  Don’t be silly, she admonished herself. There were very few break-ins round here. It must have been a fox.

  She went into the kitchen and looked for a suitable instrument. Ah, yes, she thought, seizing the shillelagh that Pete had once insisted on buying her on a trip to Dublin, for reasons that escaped her, but for which she was now very grateful. She felt emboldened enough to unlock the kitchen door and stride down the path. Self-defence classes she had been to always suggested going on the offensive, and roaring loudly to scare away an aggressor. Feeling too self-conscious to roar, she nevertheless walked as boldly as she could down the path. The security light illuminated most of the garden, and there weren’t many nooks and crannies where an attacker could hide. There was no one there.

  She bent over to pick up the pieces of the pot. It was too dark to sort out properly, but at least she could clear the path. Then she stopped and stiffened. She heard a soft thud, thud, and looked to the end of the garden. The garden gate was flapping gently back and forth. Saffron swallowed hard. She was sure she had shut it earlier.

  Armed with the shillelagh, she ran down the path, looking from left to right to make sure there were no Greebos lurking in the shadows. The garden was quite empty, but the gate was still open. And in the mud that marked the allotment boundary, she could see the shape of a boot. Slamming the gate shut and locking it as quickly as she could, Saffron raced back to the house, heart hammering ninety to the dozen. Someone had been in her garden. Of that she was certain.

  ‘Couldn’t the boot print have been yours?’ Amy asked the next day, when Saffron related the story.

  ‘No, I checked in the morning. It was way too big for mine, and Pete hasn’t been out on the allotments in months, so it couldn’t be his.’

  ‘Did you call the police?’

  Saffron pulled a face. ‘They just said it was kids mucking about.’

  ‘They’re probably right,’ Amy reassured her. ‘It’s not like there’s a lot of crime around here. It’s one of the reasons I love it so much. Back in London, you always had to watch yourself. Do you want me to come and keep you company tonight?’

  ‘That’s really nice of you,’ said Saffron. ‘But you must be sick of the sight of my house. Besides, Pete’s back tonight. I’m sure I can manage. After all, I have got my trusty shillelagh.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure …’

  ‘I am, thanks. I tell you another odd thing, though,’ Saffron continued. ‘I think someone’s been in my shed.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘I found an empty chip wrapper, and a can of beer. And I certainly didn’t put them there.’

  ‘Now that does sound like kids,’ said Amy. ‘Perhaps we ought to mention it to Harry. He can bring it up at the next allotmenteers’ committee meeting. If there are kids breaking into the allotments at night, we should all be more vigilant.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Saffron. ‘I shall try not to worry about it. Come on, let’s get out to Mrs Webster’s. Her beds were in a shocking state last time we visited, so I hate to think what they’re like now.’

  Saffron was trying to be positive. There probably was a simple explanation for the chip paper. But along with the haemorrhaging clients, and the intruder in her garden, she was beginning to feel as if someone had it in for her.

  Ben made his way up Amy’s path after work. What a difference a week could bring. This time last week he had been anticipating a relaxed and enjoyable evening with her. And now, thanks to Caroline, he wasn’t sure what reception he was going to get. Caroline had casually let slip that she had been over to Amy’s, and equally casually mentioned that Amy now knew where she was staying.

  ‘I do believe your little girlfriend was a teensy bit jealous,’ Caroline had laughed her tinkly laugh, which was really beginning to grate on Ben’s nerves.

  ‘She’s not my girlfriend, and she has no need to be jealous, given that there is nothing going on between you and me,’ said Ben, resisting the urge to slap her.

  ‘More’s the pity,’ Caroline said breathily, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. Time was when that would have had an effect. But not now. Ben simply ignored her, and went out to work, determining firstly to call Amy at the earliest opportunity, and secondly to get Caroline out of his house as soon as humanly possible.

  He had tried calling Amy, but she seemed to be out every time he rang. It was as if she were avoiding him. And then he’d had a couple of very busy days at work, and had got home too late to pop in on her.

  But he was here now, and he had to hope that she would give him the benefit of the doubt.

  Ben stood on the doorstep, and when the door opened, asked, ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Cup of tea?’ She tried to keep her voice light, and hoped he wouldn’t hear the tremble in it. This was ridiculous. Last week she had felt happy
and relaxed with him, and was even contemplating having his babies! And now she was all over the place.

  ‘Yes, thanks.’ Ben followed her into the kitchen, where Josh was drawing a picture.

  ‘Ben!’ Josh leapt up in delight and threw his arms round Ben’s legs. ‘Where have you been?’ he said accusingly. ‘We haven’t seen you for ages.’

  Amy’s heart swelled at the way her son looked at Ben. He would make such a good father. If that’s what he wanted. If that was what she wanted.

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ said Ben, ruffling Josh’s hair. ‘I’ve been a bit busy. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

  ‘I owe you an apology,’ Ben blurted out, as they sat down with their tea in the lounge.

  ‘I presume you mean Caroline?’ Amy said frostily.

  ‘I had no idea she was coming. I know that sounds lame, but I honestly didn’t have a clue. She sent me emails apparently, but I never got them. She pitched up last Saturday when you were helping out at Saffron’s.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I meant to. Really I did. But it was so hectic, and there didn’t seem to be a right time, somehow. And then, having not told you, it seemed to be harder to say.’

  ‘Not that,’ said Amy. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you used to go out with her?’

  Ben looked shamefaced.

  ‘It never seemed relevant, to be honest,’ he said. ‘I did see Caroline for a while last year. It was a short and very intense relationship. Then she decided to go travelling and wanted me to go with her, and when I said no, we parted company. We’ve stayed in touch, but that’s it. At least it is on my side. To be honest, she’s a drama queen and very high maintenance. And it’s a real pain in the arse having her as a house guest.’

  ‘If you say so,’ said Amy, but her tone was wary.

  ‘Amy, you have to believe me,’ said Ben earnestly. ‘The last person I’m interested in right now is Caroline.’

  ‘Okay, I believe you,’ said Amy, desperately wanting to, but not entirely sure she could.

  ‘Good,’ Ben replied. ‘And you’re not cross?’

  ‘Nothing to be cross about,’ said Amy with determined lightness. ‘Although I can’t say I’m impressed with your taste in women.’

  Ben grimaced. ‘Well, put it like this, it took me a while to realise what Caroline was really like. To be honest, I’d much rather not have her to stay. But she has nowhere to go at the moment, and we do have history. I’d feel a bit crap if I chucked her out. She’s getting over a broken heart apparently. It seems a bit heartless to make her leave.’

  ‘How long is she staying?’

  ‘She hasn’t actually said,’ Ben admitted. ‘But I’m hoping not too long. It doesn’t have to make a difference to us, does it?’

  ‘No, no, of course not,’ said Amy with an enthusiasm she didn’t feel. She would feel so much better if she knew Caroline wasn’t going to stay for long. Somehow she had a feeling that Caroline wouldn’t happily accept that Ben wasn’t interested. Amy had a horrible feeling that she might have a fight on her hands.

  ‘That’s great,’ said Ben. ‘So we’re back to where we were then?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Amy, wondering where exactly that might be.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ‘Hi, Harry, how are you doing?’ Amy passed him sitting on the bench outside his hut, as she pushed her wheelbarrow, laden with tools, onto the allotments. It was a fine Saturday spring morning, and the allotments were already busy. There was a constant hum of lawnmowers and she had stopped to chat to several people before reaching Harry. There had been a time when she could come out here and barely know anyone, and now it felt as if she had a huge extended family. Even Scary Slug Man didn’t spook her any more.

  The sun shone clear and bright, and there was barely a cloud in the crisp, fresh blue sky. Amy felt a deep and contented sense of renewal. Ben had said he would pop over and help her start digging over her vegetable beds, ready for planting. She smiled in happy anticipation. This was just why she had moved out here. So far Amy had managed to get a few spuds and carrots in, but, despite the warm days, the evenings were still cold so she had deferred planting anything else. Harry had kindly lent her a couple of shelves in his greenhouse, and was assiduously looking after her fledgling tomatoes, kale and cauliflowers, so Amy was hoping for great things come the summer. She felt a little thrill of delight at the thought.

  A shadow passed over her, as she felt the customary tug of sadness that Jamie wasn’t here to share this with her. But she shook it off. The summer sun would be here soon, and she was settling happily into her new way of life. Ben would never be Jamie, but he was Ben. And she was beginning to allow herself the feelings she had resisted for so long. It felt like emerging from a dark cave into bright sunlight.

  ‘I’m fine, my dear,’ said Harry, breaking into her thoughts. ‘No Josh today?’

  ‘He’s had a sleepover with Matt,’ said Amy. ‘Saffron kindly said she’d have him for me, to pay me back for the help I gave her when Elizabeth was ill. So I thought I’d take advantage and get over here.’

  ‘Do you fancy a cuppa?’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ said Amy, following Harry into his hut. Harry’s hut wasn’t like the ramshackle huts of most of the allotmenteers, which were mainly cobbled together with old bits of wood, but a rather more solid affair, with a brick base and proper windows. Amy had been amazed at how cosy it was the first time she had visited it. Harry had a comfy old sofa, a small work surface where he kept his kettle, and several shelves that were stacked with bottles or his brewing kit, the main purpose of the shed being winemaking.

  The radio was blaring out as they entered the shed.

  ‘Isn’t Jonathan Ross a bit too newfangled for you?’ Amy laughed.

  ‘Ah,’ said Harry, ‘my mistake. I was listening to that allotment chappie and forgot to tune it back to Classic FM. My begonias usually like a bit of Mozart.’

  A familiar song was playing; the singer was urging her lover to reconsider before he took her heart. Amy shook her head. It could have been written for her and Ben. She so wanted to entrust her heart to him, but she had to be sure that he wouldn’t break it. Caroline had shown no signs so far of moving on. And despite Ben’s obvious attempts to keep things normal between them (him offering to help her today being one of them), Amy still felt a lingering unease about the other woman’s presence.

  ‘What do you make of Caroline?’ she asked Harry.

  ‘Ah, the divine Caroline,’ said Harry. ‘Adored by men and hated by women.’

  ‘That seems a fair assessment,’ laughed Amy. ‘I can’t say she’s my cup of tea.’

  ‘Nor mine, if it comes to it,’ confided Harry.

  ‘Harry,’ Amy twisted her hair nervously, ‘do you think … no, I’m being stupid.’

  ‘I don’t think Ben’s in love with her, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ Harry replied.

  Amy looked embarrassed. Was she so easy to read?

  ‘Not exactly – but good,’ she said. ‘I don’t think she’s right for him.’

  Harry tried and failed to suppress a smile.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more. Caroline is a very determined and spoilt young lady, who is used to getting her own way. It may do her good if she doesn’t for once.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ said Amy, staring with sudden gloom out of the window, ‘because she seems to have muscled in on the act today. Ben was coming to help me on my allotment, but it looks like he’s got company.’

  She pointed through the window. Striding across the allotments, with Meg beside him, was Ben. And with him was Caroline.

  Ben was fuming. Caroline was so good at wrong-footing him. He hadn’t planned to mention going over to the allotments today, let alone seeing Amy. He was just going to get up and go. With Caroline being of the take-your-time-in-the-morning variety, he had anticipated getting away quite easily. But for once this morning she was up early. She also seemed to be
a bit out of sorts. Something to do with a long, whispered phone conversation last night, presumably to DBtB. It had ended with Caroline yelling ‘Don’t you bloody dare’, before hurling what sounded like her mobile phone across the room. Ben would have happily given anything not to listen, but the walls in his house were paper thin, and despite turning up Mark Radcliffe really loudly, he’d still caught more snippets than he cared to.

  He’d pretended ignorance in the morning, but it was hard not to notice Caroline’s pale face and red-rimmed eyes. He’d wondered if she’d left her face makeupless on purpose. Normally she wouldn’t be seen dead without a bit of slap on. Was she making a play for sympathy? God, even Caroline wouldn’t be so devious – would she?

  Wondering what he had ever seen in her, Ben set about having breakfast and getting out as fast as he could. But Caroline was having none of it.

  ‘What are you up to today?’ she wanted to know with a false gaiety.

  ‘I’m just going to the allotments to start preparing my seedbeds,’ said Ben.

  ‘Oh great,’ she said. ‘I’ll come too. I need some fresh air to clear my head. I slept so badly last night.’

  Evidently, Ben was supposed to ask why she’d slept badly, but he was determined not to, so he concentrated on buttering his toast instead.

  ‘And I’m so dying to see what Amy’s done to my allotment. I hadn’t realised till Harry told me she was such a green-fingers. Aren’t I lucky she rented out my house?’ Again, the same tinkling little laugh. It made Ben want to throttle her, but instead he shoved his empty plate in the dishwasher and started to put his fleece on. He was damned if he was going to walk over there with her. But if she was determined to come he couldn’t stop her.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Caroline, ‘I’ll be ready in two ticks.’

  Ben cursed his parents for bringing him up to be polite to women. He would dearly have loved to walk out then and there. Would that he had been born ten years later. Any of his twenty-something male patients could have probably taught him a thing or two about shaking off the unwelcome attentions of women you don’t like, but it wasn’t something he would ever be comfortable with.

 

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