Trembine Halt

by Ivan B

  “Could do, from the back garden of one of the cottages, or the upper story of the vicarage. If we can see them they can see us.”

  Buster nodded, “Quite right, now can we get a move on? I want to get to Simon before he thaws out.”

  Julia gave him a friendly punch, stick her arm through his and they slithered their way to the farm.

  Sarah. Now showered and wearing the red jeans and an off-colour mustard yellow top (no wonder it was at the bottom of the drawer!) popped her boiler suit and underclothes into the washing machine, they now not only smelt of sweat but also smoke. She heard the water running above and knew that Rupert was now also having a shower even though the hot-tank had probably not had enough time to recover its temperature. She went to the Aga and tossed in the white powder, slamming the door behind it. “Am I mad?” She said to herself, “Setting up a room her with a man I hardly know and a man who by all accounts is not completely compos mentis.” She sighed, this was at least the third time she’d asked herself this question in the last half an hour and she was none the wiser now than when she’d started. She rummaged in the freezer and pulled out a pair of frozen-meals-for-one that she’d spotted the day before. She checked the ‘eat by’ dates and realised that they were both a week overdue. She sighed again, and said to Hoof, “Well I suppose they won’t kill us,” before turning to the microwave. Hoof’s ears twitched and then went still, of all the inhabitants of the vicarage he seemed the most content with the new arrangements.

  Julia sat down in the kitchen and kicked off her gumboots, Buster did his by the back door. Jenny ruffled her hair as she passed and get to the kettle. Julia winked at Buster, “Why don’t you go to the lounge, if I know my family they’re probably watching match of the day or fixture of the week by now. I’ll bring you a coffee.”

  Buster dutifully walked out of the kitchen. Jenny poured out two cups of coffee and offered one to Julia. As Julia reached out for it her mother suddenly screeched, “Julia!” Before grabbing hold of Julia’s left hand.

  Julia, realising what she thought, mumbled; “It’s not…” But her words were compressed out of her by a huge motherly bear-hug. Harry put his head round the door, “Is everything all right in here, I thought I heard someone scream.”

  Jenny held up Julia’s left hand, “Look, they’re engaged!”

  Julia watched as surprise, concern, bewilderment, bafflement and finally pleasure crossed her father’s face. He came forward and kissed her on the cheek, “Congratulations dear.”

  Julia wondered about having a final attempt to explain that although she was wearing a ring on the second finger of her left hand she hadn’t actually agreed to anything with Buster other than not giving an outright refusal. However, she decided that she’d never be able to do it in a way her parents would understand. He father held her hands, “I must admit Julia that Buster would not be my choice, but if he makes you happy and takes good care of you then that’s good enough for me.”

  Julia intuitively realised what a strain that statement had put on her father and kissed him on the cheek and hugged him. She stepped back and whispered, “Don’t make too much fuss will you, Buster can be a bit shy.”

  Her father totally ignored her and turned to his wife, “Have we still got that fizzy white wine?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer and turned to Julia, “Haven’t got any Champagne on ice I’m afraid love, but we have got that wine Bill brought back from his trip to Budapest.”

  Julia shuddered, she’d tasted that particular wine from Budapest and could have told her father exactly why her brothers had left the rest of the crate untouched. However, she let him have his moment, after all if can’t be every day that your only daughter walks in with an engagement ring on her finger, even if the said daughter didn’t realise it at the time.

  Hoof licked out the plastic dishes the meals had been in and settled back down in front the lounge fire. Rupert appeared with coffee and sat down. Sarah was amazed at his sartorial transformation. Gone were the old sloppy clothes and in were a pair of decent black trousers and a clean, if un-ironed, red shirt. He’d also combed his hair and obviously also had another shave. She decided that he really was making an effort. Unfortunately now he was more presentable it was also more noticeable that he had copious amounts of hair growing from his nostrils and his ears. He put his feet up onto a footstool and Sarah almost burst into laughter as both socks had holes in them causing both his big toes to show through. Instead she wriggled her toes and felt the warmth of the stove. “I suppose you won’t be able to get to whatever church you were due at tomorrow.”

  His eyes opened wide, “Is it Saturday? With you here and the snow I’d rather lost…”

  “Saturday all day, don’t tell me you haven’t got a sermon ready.”

  He gave a sort of breathing in and out chortle, “I’ll think of something. I was due at Methwold Hythe in the morning, but I’ll hold a service here instead.”

  “Will anybody come?”

  He leant forward and rubbed his hands, “Oh yes, I’ll ring the bell half an hour before the service and people will come, you’ll see.”

  He turned to her, “You said you go to church, which flavour?”

  “Church of England, I usually go to the eight o’clock to give myself the rest of the day to walk; besides there’s no coffee after that service and hence no compulsion to talk to others.”

  “You don’t like that?”

  She thought a moment, “I don’t mind talking, but I do object to people prying. You know, ‘Have you met a nice young man yet?’ ‘Don’t you think you ought to get a more feminine job?’ And ‘Sarah! Have you met Alan?’ Or William or Henry or some other single bloke that they want to palm me off with.”

  Rupert grinned from ear to ear, “And you don’t like Alan, or William or whoever?”

  She sat still and answered after some thought, “It’s not Alan or William or any of the others. I just don’t seem to gel with them. I did go to a couple of the vicar’s wife’s matchmaking teas, but most men find it difficult that I’m a train driver and that I enjoy being a train driver. I’m also not into small talk, so I find it difficult with them.”

  Rupert rubbed the palms of his hands down the sides of his trousers. “Do you find it difficult with me?”

  “I find it hard when I inadvertently tread on parts of your life that upset you and I don’t mean to upset you. Otherwise, no, I don’t find it difficult to be with you at all. In fact I find it…”

  She sought for the right words as she could see her reply was important to him. “In fact I find it comforting. In fact despite the snow and the circumstances it feels like I’ve come home, come home to a place of contentment.”

  Rupert opened his mouth, but Sarah gently rested her hand on his arm, “Please Rupert, no more questions. To be truthful I’m not good at analysing my feelings and I can only say that I’m comfortable with you and content here, as I said before only time will tell if there’s anything beyond that.”

  Rupert nodded, “No more questions, but… But…” he took a deep breath, “I don’t know what to do.”

  Sarah patted his arm, “Then don’t do anything, just be yourself. Let’s just spend time being ourselves and not pretending to be what we’re not. As much as I’d like to be one of those women who can scoop up a handful of flowers and arrange then to brighten up a house I know that I’m not. So lets just not pretend with each other and see if we like the real us.”

  He nodded sagely and looked serious for a minute of two. He looked up, “Does that mean I can pick my toenails?” He said with a grin.

  Sarah grinned, “Definitely not, least not where I can see.”

  Chapter 17

  Parties

  “To Julia and Buster”

  The glasses clinked and Norman slapped Buster on the back. Buster, who had taken the news that he was now engaged to Julia seemingly without surprise, looked at his glass. “Interesting wine this, the first sip sort of paralyses the thro
at muscles and the second sip sets your tongue on fire, what did you say it was?”

  Mark laughed, “Bill brought it back from Budapest; he was given a case of it as some sort of present. Half the bottles are labelled ‘Produce of Croatia’, most of the rest are labelled ‘Produced in Europe’ and one bottle was marked, ‘Romania’s finest,’ so where it actually comes from is anybody’s guess.”

  Petra giggled, “Too much of this and my throat will disappear.”

  “All right, all right,” said Harry, “it’s all we had available to toast the happy couple.”

  “So, when’s the happy day sis?” Asked Colin.

  She smiled demurely, “We haven’t set a date yet.”

  “Where will you live?” Chipped in Jenny.

  Buster grinned while intently watching Simon, who looked like a nervous rabbit. “Ambrose House. I’m looking after it while Maria and Jeremy are away and they could be gone for some considerable time, at least ten years.”

  Simon didn’t flinch. Jenny tut-tutted, “Won’t that be difficult, living with somebody else’s things?”

  Buster shrugged, “They said make it my own while they’re gone and I will.”

  Petra rolled her eyes and offhandedly remarked to Julia, “Not a real home though, not yours, no security.”

  The tone of her voice angered Julia, so she gave Petra a wicked smile, “Buster’s got plenty of security. He gave me a Land Rover as an engagement present.”

  Harry’s jaw dropped open, “A Land Rover?”

  “Top of the range short-wheelbase Land Rover Defender with all the trimmings.”

  Petra’s eyes bulged, obviously the thought of being given a Land Rover did not appeal to her; Julia decided to rub it in, “He did offer me a Mercedes SLK, but I’m really a Land Rover girl at heart.”

  Norman burst into laughter, “That’s our Julia, country to the core.”

  Jenny produced some home made biscuits and the mass meeting broke up. Petra sidled up to Julia, “Did he really offer you a Merc?”

  “Yep.”

  She shook her head in disbelief before glancing furtively around and lowering her voice. “Say. Have you got any pills?”

  Julia frowned at her, “Pills?”

  She glanced around again, “I mean birth control pills. I only had one spare in my handbag. If you haven’t a couple of morning after pills would do.”

  Julia scowled at her and hissed back, “For your information I don’t have either and I use neither. And before you ask I don’t have a secret cache of any other contraceptives, I don’t feel the need.”

  Petra blinked back surprise, “But you’re engaged!”

  “That doesn’t mean that I conduct myself like a slut.”

  Stung by the retort she moved away leaving Julia wondering as to why she felt the need for the pills in the first place.

  Buster watched Simon leave the room and, while no-one was particularly looking, slipped out after him. He followed Simon up the stairs and cornered him by following him into the bathroom. Simon looked up in surprise as Buster pushed in behind him and closed the door, locking it behind him. Buster gave him what he hoped was a menacing look. “Right Simon, why are you really here? And don’t give me any of that Yoga centre guff.”

  Simon, summoning courage from somewhere, turned up his nose. “None of your business.”

  Buster swiftly moved his hand and, as by a miracle, an open flick-knife appeared in his hand. Simon stared at the long pointed, and obviously sharp, blade as if mesmerised. “You wouldn’t use that in the house.”

  “Try me,” snarled Buster, “now why are you here?”

  He took a fraction of a pace towards Simon, whose eyes bulged in fear. He gasped, “Petra, I fancied the bitch OK? I was in the estate agents paying my hall hire bill and she started coming on strong about me buying my own centre and I sort of fell into the game. I thought a nice ride in the country and…”

  Buster grimaced, “And?”

  “And nothing, she wouldn’t play. She looks the type, but repelled my advances. In the end I gave up; she’s a vacuous one that one, all come-on and no follow-through.”

  Buster waved his knife, “So why did you do a runner, what’s there to hide?”

  Simon looked startled at the notion of running, he croaked, “Renie.”

  “Who?”

  “Renie, it’s our anniversary.”

  Buster looked him in the eye, “Didn’t know you was married.”

  “I’m not, she is. Her husband goes to Barcelona every three months for a long weekend and if I don’t show she’ll think I’m not interested any more.”

  Buster groaned, Simon was a gigolo, but not a killer: he could see that he didn’t have it in him. “Meet her at one of your Yoga classes did you?”

  Simon nodded weakly. Buster took another fraction of a step forward and held the knife an inch below Simon’s chin. He whispered menacingly, “Let me make one thing clear boyo, if I catch you anywhere near Julia I’ll slit your throat without a second thought. Do I make myself clear?”

  Simon sniggered, “Don’t go for the butch type myself.”

  Buster, with his left hand, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him slightly, “That goes for Jill too. And if I catch you anywhere near that young girl, your dead-meat – savvy?”

  Simon croaked his agreement and Buster, in one smooth move, let go of him, folded and pocket his knife and stepped away. He looked Simon in the eye, “Don’t think I won’t, I’m not in the habit of making false promises.”

  He paused, “Tell me while you were looking at the Arms with Petra, did you see anybody else?”

  Simon, regaining a bit of bravado, snapped back, “What’s it to you?”

  Buster moved towards him again. “Humour me.”

  Simon made a helpless gesture. “Only that weird looking guy in a threadbare duffel coat and his dog, that’s all.”

  Buster nodded, “Now I don’t need to tell you that our little talk has been private do I?”

  Simon shook his head and Buster unlocked the door and let himself out. Simon slumped onto the WC pan and put his head in his hands. His legs wouldn’t stop trembling.

  Buster made his way back to the lounge deep in thought, Simon may be many things, but ruthless killer no. But if not Simon, who? He swung the door open and entered the lounge, Colin looked at him, “Thought we’d lost you.”

  “Just been to a mirror to make sure my throat’s still there.”

  Colin, who’d drunk nearly two glasses of the alcohol, laughed heartily. Jill took the opportunity to sidle up to Julia. She whispered, “Congratulations and thanks. Don’t know if you meant to, but you’ve sure taken the pressure off me and Colin.”

  Julia gave her a shoulder crushing hug, “Has he popped the question yet?”

  “Sort of. I know he will and he knows I’ll accept, we just haven’t done the formal bit yet.”

  She grabbed Julia’s hand, “Can I look at your ring?”

  Julia obliged and Jill stared at it. “It’s beautiful, I like the way the two diamonds lay perpendicular to the ring, but it sort of snake’s around them. Must have cost a fortune.”

  She looked at Julia, “You’re very lucky, Buster seems a wonderful guy.”

  Julia, with two-thirds of a glass of nearly neat alcohol in her, decided to ask the question nobody had yet dare ask. “What about Harriet’s father?”

  Jill made a face, “Bastard. He was a work colleague and I thought we had a stable relationship and I was wearing his ring. We got over-drunk at our engagement meal and one thing led to another. Then, when I became pregnant, he dropped me like a sack of potatoes because he has afraid of his parent’s disapproval. Swine even offered to stay with me if I had an abortion and told no-one.”

  Julia reached out and held Jill’s arm, “He just walked away?”

  Jill flashed a shark like smile, “He would have. I chased him through the Child Support Agency to make him pay, but he fought it all the way. I had to get a judge’s order
to make him take a paternity test.”

  Julia nodded, “So he contributes towards Harriet’s upkeep?”

  Jill shook her head, “He took the paternity test and left the country, never been seen since.”

  Jill looked into Julia’s eyes, But I wouldn’t trade Harriet for anything and yes, Colin does know the whole story.”

  They continued talking while Buster circulated round to Petra, who was now on her fourth glass of wine. He sat down beside her, “How can you drink that stuff?”

  “Gets better with every glass.”

  “Tell me,” has asked carefully, “what do you think of Simon?”

  She gave a drunken grimace, “Guy’s a slimy toad. Brought me all the way out her to look at that disgusting wreck of a building and then makes a pass at me.”

  “But you don’t fancy him?”

  “Rather eat maggots.”

  He watched her sip away a third of the glass of fizzy liquid, “Fancy Norman though?”

  She giggled drunkenly, “Smashing bloke, wild in bed.”

  Buster patted her on the shoulder and circulated round to Norman. He whispered in his ear and Norman glanced at Petra and then nodded. Buster, finally, made it back to Julia. She turned to look at him in his well-pressed open-neck shirt and well cut trousers. “Wondered where you were.”

  He gave a sort of sheepish smile, “Just looking after you by checking out the interlopers.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing.” He gently stroked her forearm, “Now my little fiancée, have you any more surprises in store for me?”

  She whispered, “My mum saw the ring and put two and two together, before I could say anything the whole family knew.”

  “Perhaps,” he said softly back, “you didn’t really want to say anything.”

  She gave him a toothy smile, “Perhaps. Maybe. Who’s to know?”

  He grinned, “Fancy asking this lot over to ours tomorrow? At least we could give them better wine than this.”

  She laughed, “Did you say ‘ours?’”

  “I did.”

  “Then you’re on.”