by Susan Lewis
‘Can I touch you now?’ he whispered raggedly.
She nodded, then gasped as his fingers grazed over her breasts.
‘Is that OK?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’ She swallowed. ‘It feels really good.’ Then, ‘You can touch me down there if you like,’ she said shyly.
Nat knew that he’d never forget how much he’d wanted to cover Annabelle’s body with his and push himself into her. He’d never gone that far before, but he sensed she’d let him if he wanted to. Maybe he would have, had they not heard someone coming up the stairs.
‘The bitch,’ Annabelle was fuming, as she and Georgie crossed back to Holly Way, ‘who the hell does she think she is, telling me I ought to grow up? I should have smacked her one, or told her there was no way she was invited to the party, because no one wants to see her nasty gingey pubes and flat white tits. Ugh, she’s such a minger, I don’t know how Nat can stand to look at her, never mind go with her.’
‘Whatever,’ Georgie shrugged, ‘he’s definitely not coming to the party, so so much for plan B.’
‘She’s not getting away with that,’ Annabelle muttered, barely listening. ‘I’m telling you, even if he doesn’t come on Saturday, I know he wants to go with me, and when he does she’s going to know all about it.’
Chapter Eight
Over the next few days, apart from taking Summer to the station, where Alicia said her goodbyes at the car, allowing the young ones some privacy for their own difficult parting, she and Nat barely left the shop. Thanks to Mimi’s long-suffering husband Pete, and his trusty pickup truck, the remaining junk had been shunted off to the tip, and brand-new display cases made from recycled materials were starting to take shape out on the patio. While Pete sawed, hammered, drilled and planed on his Workmate, Nat whitewashed walls, Alicia painted woodwork and window frames, and Mimi kept up an endless supply of refreshments.
In the evenings, after a quick salad or fish and chips from the Friary if she was too tired to whip something up, Alicia worked at the computer in her bedroom, designing stationery, business cards, promotional flyers and a logo, while Nat concentrated on creating a website. Sorting out the practical elements of running a business was her biggest headache, but Maggie at the pub rode in to the rescue by sitting her down one afternoon and going through everything she’d need to get started, from an accountant, to insurance, to a trusted shipper in the event she needed to send her sculptures or other products to distant destinations.
By Friday, thanks to a slew of recommendations, she had a shortlist for all categories, and when Sam the postman showed up at two o’clock with a special delivery containing a credit-card machine and notification that she’d be able to receive payments from the following Wednesday, Alicia declared it time to celebrate. No matter that the phone still wasn’t on, and the electricity was coming through like Morse code, they’d achieved so much in less than a week that they royally deserved a night off.
‘At last,’ Rachel laughed, when Alicia and Nat joined her and Dave at their local pub near Ditcheat. ‘We were beginning to wonder if we’d ever see you again.’
Though Alicia would have preferred to go to the Traveller’s, having narrowly avoided running into Sabrina once, she wasn’t prepared to chance it again, especially while Robert wasn’t around. ‘Where are the kids?’ she asked, surveying the garden to try and spot them.
‘Both on sleepovers,’ Dave answered, his merry blue eyes showing how pleased he was to have his wife to himself for the night. ‘They’re back in the morning, and they both want to know if they can come over to help with the shop.’
‘Too right,’ Nat piped up. ‘I don’t see why I should be her only slave, so bring ’em on.’
Laughing as she hugged him, Rachel said, ‘You’ve got paint in your eyebrows and no tan. She’s definitely working you too hard.’
Alicia smiled fondly as Nat glanced at her and winked. ‘So what are we all going to have to drink?’ she demanded. ‘Nat’s driving, so…’
‘It’s all taken care of,’ Dave interrupted. ‘It’s not every day a girl gets her first credit-card machine, so we reckoned it had to be champagne.’
Alicia’s eyes widened as she burst out laughing. ‘But I’m buying,’ she insisted. ‘It was my idea to celebrate, and…’
‘Will you sit down and behave,’ Dave told her. ‘This is our treat, and dinner’s on us too.’
‘Oh no,’ she said seriously. ‘I’m fully aware of what’s happening in the property market, so…’
‘I have a rich wife,’ Dave reminded her. ‘She’s raking it in at that surgery, which is something else to celebrate, she’s finally taken on a partner who’s due to start in September, so I might actually get to see something of her.’
‘That’s great,’ Alicia cried, giving Rachel a hug. ‘I’d forgotten you were looking for someone.’
‘Hardly surprising when the search started almost a year ago, we’ve all got bored with it by now, but tonight’s not about me, it’s about you two and new beginnings. Just a shame Darcie’s not here to join in.’
‘I don’t think she’d necessarily agree with that,’ Nat told her. ‘She’s having such a great time in France she’s hardly got time to talk to us when we call. Unless she wants my brotherly advice on how to let a boy know she likes him.’
‘To which Nat replied,’ Alicia butted in, ‘if he’s French tell him to tire-toi, which basically means bugger off, and if he’s English she has to give him Nat’s number so he can deal with it in person.’
Laughing, Rachel said, ‘How very helpful of you. I’m sure she was extremely appreciative.’
‘That’s one way of putting it,’ he retorted, stepping into the picnic bench next to his mother.
‘Ah, here’s the champagne,’ Dave announced, spotting a barmaid toting an ice bucket and four glasses across the grass.
Minutes later they were toasting each other and taking the first welcome mouthfuls of a deliciously chilled Laurent Perrier.
‘OK, menus,’ Dave declared. ‘She forgot to bring them.’
‘I’ll go in,’ Nat said, getting up. ‘Anyone want crisps or nuts?’
‘Bring a few bags,’ Alicia told him.
As he walked away she closed her eyes and let the sheer pleasure of relaxing with her closest friends rise above her grief to warm her. ‘God, what a week,’ she murmured, stretching out her back. ‘Provided I don’t think about anything else I’m starting to get quite excited.’
With a quick look at Dave, Rachel reached into her bag and handed over a bulletin sheet with green print on a creamy yellow background. As soon as she saw it Alicia realised what it was and felt her heart sink. ‘The Buzz,’ she said, reading the title. ‘That’s original.’
‘I brought it,’ Rachel said, ‘because I guessed you hadn’t seen it yet or you’d have mentioned it on the phone. Dave thought we should wait to show you, but I think you’d rather read it while we’re here. There’s an article on the inside page that’s obviously directed at you.’
Throwing it down, Alicia said, ‘I don’t want to read anything she has to say. Just give me the gist of it.’
‘Basically she’s stating all the reasons why Holly Wood doesn’t want tourism, or businesses that might invite it. She goes on about litter and parking and people staring in windows, and how it could increase everyone’s council tax if there’s more rubbish to collect, and streets to clean and general maintenance required.’
‘The bitch,’ Alicia muttered.
‘I know. She’s obviously trying to spook your neighbours into thinking twice about supporting your shop. She doesn’t name you, of course, she’s too smart for that, but the message is pretty clear. She finishes up with a paragraph about certain permits that are necessary for retail premises to be used as a manufacturing unit, and how important it is for the residents of Holly Wood to make sure that everyone sticks to the law.’
Alicia was looking worried. ‘What permits?’ she demanded. ‘Is she right? Do I ne
ed one?’
‘Possibly,’ Dave answered regretfully. ‘I haven’t had time yet to go through all the sections, subsections and sorry-ass clauses in the council regulations, but judging by this I’d say she has looked into it, so you probably should too.’
Alicia’s face was taut with anger. ‘What difference does it make to her if I’m producing sculptures and a few items of jewellery at the back of the shop?’ she cried. ‘But it’s not about that, is it? This is her way of trying to make me leave. Well, she can forget it. Half the village has already been in to lend a hand, or show their support, and I just know the other half will be on my side if it’s put to the test. For God’s sake, it’s only a tinpot gallery. It’s not as if people are going to be flocking to Holly Wood in their droves to see my obscure little works. I wish.’
‘I’ll do some investigating for you on Monday,’ Dave told her. ‘It shouldn’t be too difficult to track down the right information, and if you do need a permit, we’ll get it. So problem solved.’
‘Depending on how long it takes. I need to open as soon as possible.’
‘You’re all looking very serious,’ Nat commented, dropping an assortment of pretzels and peanuts on the table along with the menus.
Alicia explained about the trading permit, omitting Sabrina’s involvement in bringing it to her attention.
Nat immediately looked as concerned as she did. ‘We don’t want any delays,’ he stated. ‘It’ll really screw things up for the summer. Hang on, though, if the problem’s only about you making stuff at the shop, you can always set up at home in the old playroom until the permit comes through. I know it’s not perfect, because you really need to be on site, but I can run the shop during August and by the time I go back to school, hopefully the necessary papers will be through.’
Alicia beamed at him. ‘That’s what I love about you,’ she told him, treating him to a resounding kiss on the head, ‘you’ve always got a good answer.’
‘Bit of a no-brainer, really,’ he mumbled, clearly pleased with himself, and taking out his mobile as it rang, he barked into it, ‘Hey! Oh hi, yeah, I’m good, how are you?’
As he got up from the table Alicia watched him walk to the edge of the garden to be more private. ‘That didn’t sound as though it was Summer,’ she remarked, ‘which’ll make a change. They must speak at least five times a day.’
‘How was it having her to stay?’ Rachel asked.
‘Fine. She’s pretty easy-going, and she didn’t have a problem mucking in. Oh, I haven’t had a chance to tell you this yet, they had a run-in with Annabelle the other day. From what I can gather Summer gave her a bit of a put-down.’
‘Good for her,’ Rachel cheered. ‘Someone needs to. I saw the girl yesterday in Bath. Honestly, you’d think she was Britain’s next supermodel the way she struts about the place. Then she laughs and this awful raucous noise comes out of her that makes you want to cringe, or slap her, or both, and her friends are as bad. They’ve got more flesh on show than a butcher’s shop, and why do young girls have to open their mouths so wide when they laugh? It’s horrible.’
Alicia rolled her eyes and looked up at Nat as he came back. ‘OK?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, that was Jolyon Crane,’ he told her.
Alicia’s face lit up. ‘About your work experience? Is everything still going ahead?’
‘Yeah. Definitely. He was ringing to invite us to dinner next Friday.’
‘How lovely. Where?’
‘Apparently he’s booked a table at somewhere called Hunting Street House?’
Alicia’s smile fled as her heart contracted. ‘Huntstrete House?’ she said, thinking of the credit-card statements of Craig’s she’d gone through, and how many times that hotel had featured.
‘That’s the one. Why, is there a problem?’
‘No, no,’ she lied, attempting to brighten again. She wasn’t going to tell him it was one of the love nests his father and Sabrina had used to carry on their affair. ‘Is Marianne coming too?’
‘You mean his wife? Dunno, I didn’t ask.’
‘Well, I guess we’ll find out when we get there,’ she said, opening her menu. ‘Now, what are we going to have to eat?’
As they read through the generous list of local dishes Alicia was barely seeing the words. Though she’d yet to clap eyes on Sabrina, it seemed everywhere she turned the damned woman was there, like a nemesis waiting to torment her. She’d stolen into her marriage and all but wrecked it. She’d created a distance between her and Robert, and made it virtually impossible for her to see her mother. Now she was trying to prevent her from opening the shop. She was even haunting innocent conversations, appearing like a shadow behind the words, darkening their innocence and drawing Alicia back to one of the most painful times of her life.
She had to do something to break free of the woman, to create an existence that could no longer be touched by her, or her future was going to end up as blighted by Sabrina as her past.
‘Is that enough?’ Robert was asking Annabelle, as they dropped a sackful of straw into the boot of his car.
‘Yeah, I think so. It should be,’ she told him. ‘I just wish it was green, that’s all.’
Having no ready suggestions for how she could change the colour, he loaded in a large box of fresh vegetables, careful not to crush her precious straw, and closing down the boot he waved a thanks to Margie, who ran the farm shop, and got into the car.
‘So, am I still not allowed to ask what it’s for?’ he prompted, as they pulled out on to the main road.
‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘I want to make sure it works first, but thanks for bringing me – and for paying.’
He cast her a glance. ‘Are you short of money at the moment?’ he asked, carefully.
She shrugged. ‘A bit, yes. It just doesn’t go anywhere these days. Everything’s so expensive.’
Since she had a healthy monthly allowance, which had been transferred into her account only a week ago, he was more than a little concerned about what she might be spending it on. However, broaching the subject wouldn’t be easy, given how spiky she was these days, but if she was squandering it on alcohol, or worse, illegal substances, which he and Sabrina had begun to suspect, then they needed to know. ‘How much do you have left?’ he asked cautiously.
She pulled a face. ‘I dunno. About twenty, I think.’ She turned to look at him, suddenly all pretty smiles and batting eyelids. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of an advance on next month’s, is there?’ she asked.
He was about to say no, when he swerved away from the absolute and said, ‘There might be if I knew what you spent your money on.’
A scowl descended over her features and she turned to look out of the window.
He threw her another quick glance, then pulled out to overtake a hay cart. ‘If you only have twenty left, you must have bought something quite expensive,’ he pointed out. ‘Was it a dress? Shoes? Make-up?’
She gave a short sigh and said, ‘Why is it everyone hates me having what I want?’
Raising his eyebrows, he said, ‘I wasn’t aware anyone ever criticised your choices, or tried to prevent you from making them. I’m simply wondering where such a large sum of money might have gone in less than a week.’
‘What is this, some kind of inquisition or something?’ she snapped defensively.
‘No, it’s me trying to find out if you’re buying things you shouldn’t be. Such as drugs, or alcohol.’
Her attitude immediately prickled with hostility. ‘No, I am not spending it on drugs or alcohol,’ she retorted angrily, and tossing back her hair, she turned to stare out of the window again, apparently sending him to Coventry.
Guessing from the tone of her response that he’d hit a tender, if not totally raw nerve, he felt a swell of dismay move through him. If he didn’t have to fly off again as soon as he’d dropped her at home, he’d be inclined to pursue the matter, if only to try to drum it into her how dangerous it was even to dabble in t
hose sorts of bad habits. Better still would be if he could persuade her to mix with a different set of friends, girls her own age, instead of Georgie and the others, who were at least a year or two older. The trouble was, she and Georgie went back a long way, so he knew already that he stood almost no chance at all of convincing her that she could be running with the wrong crowd.
‘Do any of your friends take drugs?’ he ventured, deciding to come straight to the point.
Treating him to one of her superior, long-suffering sighs, she said, ‘No-oo!’
‘What about alcohol?’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, everyone has a drink now and again. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s perfectly legal.’
‘Not for you.’
‘Oh, Robert, please don’t go on. You’re starting to sound like Mum, and I always thought you were more open-minded than that.’
Wondering if that was supposed to be a compliment, he said, ‘Mum only goes on because she worries about you.’
‘Wrong. Mum only worries about herself and what the rest of the world thinks of her.’
He gave a sad shake of his head. ‘She might give that impression at times,’ he conceded, ‘but I can assure you, no one means more to her than you.’
To his surprise she didn’t argue with that, only returned to her perusal of the passing countryside, while fiddling idly with the mobile phone in her hand. ‘If you’re right,’ she said suddenly, ‘then how come she’d never let me anywhere near her when she was supposed to be ill all that time? She was a real cow to me then, and I haven’t forgotten some of the things she said.’
Wishing he could stop the car to take her hands in his as he answered, but knowing she’d withdraw instantly if he did, because it was the way she always reacted when this subject came up, he said, ‘As I’ve explained to you before, she was going through a very bad depression…’
‘Yeah, yeah, poor Mum, let’s all feel sorry for her. Actually, I know what it was all about…’
Experiencing a beat of alarm, he said, ‘What do you mean?’