‘I would if she’d let me,’ said Ben.
‘She’ll come round, my boy,’ said Harry, ‘you see if she doesn’t. You two are meant to be together. In fact I would stake my life on it.’
‘You don’t want to go doing that,’ joked Ben, ‘you don’t know where it will lead. Thanks for the tea, but I really had better get on.’
He made his way back to his own allotment. Life here without Harry didn’t bear thinking about. He glanced over at Amy’s house again. He wondered if she had any idea how little time Harry might have left. It was going to break her heart if Harry died. He just hoped that when it happened she’d let him pick up the pieces.
Saffron settled down with a well-deserved glass of wine. The children were in bed, thankfully – as usual when Pete was away, they were playing up more than normal. This hadn’t been helped by the fact that they had seen even less of Gerry of late. Since the debacle with Maddy, Saffron had found Gerry to be incredibly elusive. He would turn up intermittently to take the children out, very often at times they hadn’t agreed, or, worse still, forget all about arrangements he had made, and letting them down. She had tried to confront him with this on one or two occasions, but he wasn’t to be pinned down and she had given up. Reluctant to tell the children that their dad was a useless waste of space (there was plenty of time for them to work that out when they were older) she had simply stopped bothering to ring him. Had it been anyone but Gerry, she might have been worried about him – on the few occasions she had seen him recently he’d had a wild, slightly unkempt look, most un-Gerry-like. If she had cared she might have concluded that since the Caroline debacle, he and the bimbo were on the way out. But she didn’t care, not really. Not now she had Pete. She would be so glad when he got home.
Suddenly her peace was disturbed by a loud crash outside.
‘Shit!’ Saffron spluttered. ‘What was that?’
She ran to the back door, leaving the lights off, and stared down the garden, where the security light was beaming brightly onto a figure who lay groaning on the floor underneath one of her patio pots.
Grabbing the shillelagh again, Saffron flung open the back door. ‘Stay right where you are!’ she said. ‘I’m calling the police.’
‘Don’t, please don’t,’ the figure replied.
‘Oh bugger.’ Saffron put the shillelagh down and stared at the sheepish form beneath her. ‘Gerry, just what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
‘I can explain everything,’ said Gerry.
‘You’d better come in,’ Saffron told him, thinking it was the last thing she wanted, but Gerry had a nasty graze on his leg from where the pot had broken and a piece had scraped it.
‘Sit down,’ she said, ‘I’ll get something to patch up the war wound.’
Ten minutes later, Saffron found herself in the bizarre position of kneeling at her ex-husband’s feet while she cleaned up what turned out to be a surface scratch. Although he was wearing a suit, he had no tie, and looked, well – grubby. He also appeared to have been drinking.
‘So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?’
‘Erm, well, I don’t – hmph, it’s, well, erm –’ Gerry managed to look both abashed and brazen at the same time.
‘Come on, Gerry, spit it out,’ said Saffron. ‘It’s not like you to go all shy and retiring on me.’
‘ThethingisyouseewellitsMaddythebitchandthebusinessisintroubleandIvenowheretogoand –
‘Woah, slow down, I missed most of that – what about Maddy?’
‘The thing is …’ Gerry paused for dramatic effect, and Saffron smelt the alcohol on his breath. ‘She’s kicked me out.’
‘Well, if you will go round two-timing people, what do you expect?’ Saffron was impatient with Gerry, but nonetheless staggered. Gerry never got dumped. He always did the dumping. It was a rare bimbo who got one over him. What with the business sabotage as well, Saffron’s estimation of Maddy rose a few notches. She turned on the kettle. ‘I think you could use a coffee,’ she said. ‘So Maddy’s ditched you?’
‘Yes, and now I have nowhere to stay, and the business is suffering, and I think I might be about to go under.’
Saffron, who had been trying to repress her giggles at the pathetic figure before her, stopped short.
‘What? Really under?’
‘Yes,’ said Gerry. His usual swagger had disappeared and for the first time he looked genuinely vulnerable. ‘It started when I lost a couple of big clients. I had been relying on their money, and bought some new stock upfront. I made a mistake, the stock hasn’t shifted, and now I owe thousands to my creditors.’
Saffron felt seriously alarmed now. Unreliable father he might be, but Gerry had always been good at paying maintenance. Even though Pete’s job was paying better now, every penny they had was accounted for. Losing Gerry’s money for the children would make a big hole. She tuned back in to Gerry and suddenly realised what he was saying.
‘– so I’ve nowhere to live, it looks like my business is down the pan, we’re going to lose the house, even if Maddy has me back.’
‘Gerry,’ said Saffron, ‘where did you say you’d been staying?’
‘I didn’t.’ A slightly panicked look crossed his face.
‘You sneaky bugger! You’ve been staying in our shed.’
‘It’s only temporary,’ pleaded Gerry, ‘till I sort myself out.’
‘Why can’t you go to a hotel like normal people?’
‘I didn’t want anyone to know she’d chucked me out,’ said Gerry. ‘And several of the sales reps I deal with stay in the motel in town.’
‘What about friends?’ Saffron looked at him and shook her head. ‘No, I forgot. You don’t do friends, do you? You simply have business acquaintances.’
‘I’m sorry, Saffron.’ Gerry did seem genuinely apologetic. ‘I tried not to make a mess. And it’s probably temporary. She’ll probably let me back home again in time.’
‘What? This has happened before?’ Comprehension dawned on Saffron. That was presumably why the intruder had disappeared for a few weeks. Gerry had just gone home. ‘So go on then, go and make it up to her.’
‘I’m not sure that it will be so easy,’ Gerry said.
‘Look, Gerry, I know you find them hard to say but most women respond pretty well to two little words, “I’m sorry”, and a bunch of flowers. It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? You can’t carry on like this.’
‘The trouble is,’ said Gerry, ‘she’s jealous.’
‘Well, you should have learned by now to behave yourself,’ said Saffron, who was getting irritated now. ‘You should have left Caroline well alone.’
‘Oh, it’s not Caroline,’ said Gerry.
‘Who then?’
‘The thing is, Saffron, Maddy’s incredibly jealous of you.’
Ben paused as he walked up Harry’s path. He had come to return some cutters he’d borrowed earlier. Strictly speaking, he didn’t need to bring them back tonight, but he knew that Amy was going away soon, and he half-hoped that this way he could run into her by accident.
Harry wasn’t in, and in the semi-twilight Amy’s house looked forbidding. Or maybe that was just his imagination – it appeared forbidding because he wasn’t sure of the welcome he was going to get.
Just then her door opened, and there she stood on the doorstep, framed against the light, two empty milk bottles in hand, looking as lovely as she had ever looked.
‘Oh.’ Amy gripped the milk bottles tightly. ‘I was just taking the milk bottles out,’ she said.
‘I was just taking Harry’s cutters back,’ Ben told her, waving them about, as if that made his story stand up more.
‘So I see,’ said Amy. ‘Harry’s out.’
‘Yes,’ said Ben. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to take her into his arms and sod the consequences, but Amy just stood there, not moving, not giving him any sign.
‘Well I’ll be off then,’ said Ben
.
‘Okay.’
‘Harry tells me you’re going away,’ said Ben.
‘Yes.’
Ben paused. ‘Have a nice holiday,’ he said.
‘I will,’ Amy replied.
‘I’ll be away myself when you get back,’ he told her.
‘Oh,’ she said, interested despite herself. ‘How long for?’
‘A couple of weeks.’
A whole month. It would be a whole month before he saw her again.
‘Are you going anywhere nice?’ asked Amy.
‘I’m going on a walking holiday in France with some university mates,’ he said. ‘And you?’
‘Menorca,’ said Amy. ‘With Mary.’
‘That will be nice.’
‘Yes.’
‘Well. Bye then,’ Ben said, unwilling to leave.
‘Bye.’
He lingered a moment. Then, unable to bear it any longer, he said, ‘Amy, we can’t go on like this. I can’t go on like this. Please, if there’s going to be nothing between us, can we at least be friends?’
‘Is there nothing between us?’ Amy’s voice came out in a whisper.
‘You tell me,’ said Ben, and looked at her. ‘Not if you don’t want there to be.’
‘Ben, if I knew what I wanted, life would be so much simpler,’ said Amy. ‘But I don’t know if I can trust you. And if I can’t trust you, I can’t risk being hurt. I’ve been through too much, and so has Josh.’
‘Don’t use Josh as an excuse,’ said Ben. ‘That’s not fair.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Amy asked. ‘You know what happened when we got too close before. I know Josh likes you, but I need to protect him too.’
‘Amy, you’ve got it so wrong,’ said Ben. ‘It’s protecting you both that I want to do more than anything.’
‘Then why didn’t you tell me about Caroline?’
Ben looked puzzled. ‘But I explained that,’ he said.
‘You never told me that you seduced her before she went away the first time,’ Amy chided him.
‘Oh, that,’ said Ben.
‘Yes, that.’
‘Amy, look, I’m sorry. I probably should have said. But the thing was, I knew I’d made a mistake the minute I got involved with Caroline again. And I’m not proud of the way I dumped her. I didn’t tell you because it was irrelevant. Since I met you, you’re the only woman I can think about.’
‘Am I? I wish I could believe that,’ said Amy.
‘Believe it,’ said Ben. He stared at her, willing her to listen to him, but she turned her head away.
‘I want to,’ she whispered.
‘Well, you should because it’s true,’ said Ben. ‘All I want is to make you happy. But I can’t if you won’t let me. And if I want more from you than you want to give, please say you’ll be friends, at least.’
Amy nodded, barely trusting herself to speak.
‘Good,’ said Ben. ‘I hope you both have a great holiday.’
‘Thanks.’
He stepped swiftly towards her, and gave her the briefest of kisses on her cheek. ‘When you’re ready, I’ll be here,’ he said, and with that he was gone.
‘Ah there you are, old boy.’ Harry greeted Ben as he wandered down to the allotments after work. He was pushing a wheelbarrow with a fork in it.
‘Hi Harry, how are you?’ said Ben. ‘I came to bring your cutters back the other night, but you were out.’
‘Yes, Amy mentioned it.’
‘When did you see Amy? I thought she was on holiday.’
‘She is, but she popped in with her spare keys before she left,’ said Harry.
‘How did she seem?’
‘A little stressed, but I’m sure a holiday will do her good. You wait and see, old boy, everything will be fine when she gets back,’ Harry told him. ‘I’m having trouble digging up my spuds. This damned breathlessness don’t you know. You wouldn’t mind giving me a hand, would you, old boy?’
‘Of course not,’ said Ben.
He followed Harry with a lighter heart than he had had of late. After what Amy had said to him at their last meeting, he felt he was no further forward, but maybe, just maybe, Harry was the key to unlocking Amy’s reluctant heart. He hoped so, because the last few weeks without her had been torture. And he wasn’t sure he could go on without her any more.
PART FOUR
Fix You
On the allotment:
Preparing the ground for the new season. Sowing,
and growing things under cloches.
State of the heart:
Preparing to love again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
‘Does he have to make that dreadful noise?’ Pete came down to breakfast looking rather grumpy.
‘Sorry,’ Saffron looked apologetic. ‘I forgot that Gerry likes to sing in the bath on a Saturday morning.’
‘Singing? Is that what you call it?’ said Pete. ‘I would have called it caterwauling myself.’
They paused as Gerry segued into a rather loud and tuneless rendition of ‘Wonderful Tonight’.
‘You’re not wrong,’ sighed Saffron. ‘And I might have known he’d go for cheese. It could be worse. When I was married to him it was “Paranoid” done five beats too slow, using my tennis racquet as a prop. Now that was a sight to behold.’
‘You almost sound as if you miss it.’ Pete’s tone was accusing. God, when had Pete started to be accusatory? Saffron realised with dismay that more and more of late her exchanges with Pete had been confrontational.
‘Pete! How can you say that?’ Saffron knew her response sounded screechy and sharp. But the tension of having Gerry in the house was unbearable. He flirted with her at every opportunity when he thought Pete was looking, and now he was singing Eric Clapton. They’d danced to ‘Wonderful Tonight’ at their wedding – at the time Saffron had thought it was hopelessly romantic, but now she found it embarrassing. Gerry must have known she’d remember. The only thing that was bothering her now was had she ever told Pete that?
‘Because it’s true. Gerry says jump and you jump. I feel like a stranger in my own house half the time. And now he’s even singing the song you danced to at your wedding. Jeez, Saffron, who is it you’re married to? Remind me again. Because I used to think it was me.’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous. Anyone would think you were jealous.’
‘Now who’s being ridiculous? Why on earth would I be jealous of sad, sappy Gerry who can’t hold down a job or a decent relationship?’
‘Precisely. Because he is sad and sappy and I have no interest in him at all. In fact, you should feel sorry for him.’
Pete snorted. ‘I cannot feel remotely sorry for someone who lets the good things in his life slip away with the ease that Gerry does. And neither, for the record, am I jealous of him.’
‘Well, good,’ said Saffron, glaring at him.
‘Good.’ Pete glared back.
‘Morning, peeps.’ Gerry breezed in wafting an over whelming stench of Lynx across the room. ‘What are we up to this morning?’
‘We are not up to anything,’ said Pete. ‘But I am about to go to Wickes to buy an extra waterbutt.’
‘What, now?’ It was only nine o’clock, and Saffron and the children were still not dressed.
‘Yes, now,’ said Pete.
‘What, you trust me with your missus?’ Gerry said with a lascivious leer.
‘Piss off, Gerry,’ Pete replied, and marched out of the room, shooting a furious glance at Saffron.
‘Was it something I said?’ Gerry spoke in mock plaintive tones.
‘Oh shut up,’ said Saffron, ‘do shut up.’ And she noisily began to clear the breakfast things away with a bang. Damn bloody Gerry. He ruined everything.
Amy took a deep breath and looked around at the allotments. It was good to be back. It was nearly a year since she had first seen this place and so much had happened in that time. Over the course of her holiday, thanks to Mary, who had insisted she have a proper break a
nd taken Josh off on her own several times, Amy had sat on several sun-drenched beaches, and lazed by the hotel pool, all the while doing some serious thinking. She had come to the conclusion that she was using the memory of Jamie as an excuse to stop her meeting anyone new. To stop her being hurt. If it wasn’t too late, she had decided that she would give Ben another chance. Life was too short not to grab the chance of happiness when it came. She of all people knew that.
Josh had gone to play with Matt, so she had come down here on her own. It being Saturday, she hoped that Ben would be on his allotment. He should be due back from his holidays by now. But there was no sign of him. She sighed, and wandered down to inspect her crops. She’d lost a lot of her lettuce – either to the weather or snails by the looks of things, but it seemed as though she would get plenty of runner beans and spuds. Someone had clearly been watering the allotment for her while she was away. In her state of mental turmoil before she went, she had forgotten to ask Harry to do it for her. But, bless him, it looked as though he had done it anyway.
Amy walked towards Harry’s allotment to thank him. He was sitting outside his shed in the warm August sunshine. Odd that he wasn’t doing anything. Harry rarely sat still.
‘Amy, my dear,’ said Harry. ‘How nice to see you. Did you have a good holiday?’
‘Yes, thanks,’ said Amy. ‘It was lovely. I’ve called in a couple of times, but you’ve been out. How are you?’
‘Not too bad,’ said Harry. ‘No Josh today?’
‘Playing with Matt,’ explained Amy. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
Harry didn’t look okay. He was pale and a little breathless, but he waved away her concern. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Now, tell me about your trip.’
‘Thanks for watering my allotment, by the way,’ said Amy.
‘Oh, that wasn’t me,’ said Harry. ‘It was Ben. He’s done it every day religiously.’
‘Ben watered it for me?’ Amy’s heart skipped a beat. Despite their conversation, despite her refusal to see him, he had still come up and watered her allotment.
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