Shaping the Ripples

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Shaping the Ripples Page 9

by Paul Wallington


  “I should have been in touch to help you.” I apologised.

  “Don’t be silly. I know how busy you are, and you’ve already done so much for us both. I’ve got your number, so I would have called you if I’d needed help. But I’ve decided that I not going to let him ruin our lives anymore. I won’t spend my life jumping at shadows. And if he ever does come back for us, he’ll find I’m a very different person now.”

  Her jaw was set firm and her eyes blazed with determination.

  “I’m sure he would,” I nodded. “As well as that, he won’t have forgotten the judge’s order that if he ever came near either of you again, he’d be sent to back to prison for a longer spell.”

  Her face relaxed slightly.

  “I hope so. Apart from that things are great. I’m so busy with the business. The last month or so, I’ve not been able to make stuff fast enough to keep up with the demand from the shops.”

  After that, we just chatted generally about her plans for Christmas, and about her social circle. Fortunately when her story had come out at the trial, some of the friends she had lost touch with had contacted her, and had been an invaluable support in the difficult months that followed. They were all planning to go away together to a cottage in the spring – it would be a first proper holiday in years for her and Sophie.

  “It’s Sophie’s birthday on January 14th. We’re having a party then, but if you’d like to come the next day about this time, I’m sure we could save you a piece of cake.” Jill invited.

  “I’d love to,” I replied, and stood up to leave. As I did, Sophie came running from the corner of the room, carrying the picture she had been working on.

  “This is for you,” she said, holding out the paper.

  The words “to Jack love from Sophie” were written across the top of a bright picture of a small girl holding her mother’s hand beside a Christmas tree.

  “It’s us,” Sophie explained. “To say thank you for the present and for how you’ve helped us.”

  A lump had appeared in my throat, but I managed to say thank you to her. As I turned to Jill, I could see her eyes were suspiciously damp.

  “That goes for me too,” she murmured. “I don’t know what would have happened to us without your help.”

  I held the picture up and smiled. “This is all the thanks I could ever need. I’ll put it on my fridge door so I see it every day, Sophie.”

  Back at home, I stuck the picture up, and made a note of January 15th in my diary and in their file. There were some days when it felt as if I had the best job in the world.

  Chapter Twelve

  On Saturday morning I was in the office just before nine o’clock. George had left a pile of paint tins and some rollers and brushes on the desk in reception, a load of sheets on the floor, and three pairs of ladders leaning against the wall.

  Before long, the front door opened, and Katie and Rebecca came in. They were both dressed in jumpers and faded jeans. Even dressed so casually, they made a striking pair. I could imagine they didn’t have much trouble attracting attention when they were out on the town together.

  “Welcome to the workhouse.” I greeted them. “How on earth did you get roped into helping with this, Rebecca?”

  “I didn’t get a better offer unfortunately. Besides which, I wasn’t sure either of you knew which end of a paintbrush to hold, so I thought I’d better come and chaperone.” She smiled and lifted up the plastic bag in her hand. “As well as that, I have brought the essential supplies for the day.” She lifted the objects out as she named them. “A radio and two packets of chocolate digestives.”

  Katie was studying the paint tins. “It looks like we have the imaginative choice of white for the ceilings and woodwork, and a sort of magnolia for the walls.” Her voice sounded distinctly unenthusiastic. “Still, I suppose it will look clean and fresh.”

  “Come on then,” I said. “We may as well make a start on it. I suppose we’d better do the ceilings first. How about I do the three offices, and you two work on here, the kitchen and hall?”

  An amused look passed between them. “Yes master,” Katie spoke. “Your wish is our command.”

  “We, your humble servants, will obey.” added Rebecca.

  I put my hands up in mock surrender. “Ok, I get the message. You can tell me what to do.”

  “Well,” said Katie thoughtfully. “We thought we could start by doing the ceilings in here, the kitchen, and the corridor, while you did the three offices.”

  “Yes, that sounds much better than my plan.” I replied sarcastically.

  “I knew you’d agree,” said Rebecca. Deciding that I was definitely going to come off worse trying to score points of these two, I gathered up some supplies and started work in George’s office.

  Over the next two hours, my painting was enlivened by the sound of the two of them singing along loudly with the radio. I had just about finished the second of the counselling rooms, when Rebecca came in, carrying a glass of my water and a plate with a few of the chocolate biscuits on.

  “You’ve earned a break for a few minutes,” she said. I climbed down the ladder and gratefully took the drink. Rebecca made no move to leave.

  “Katie said she had a really good time with you the other night.” She commented.

  “I did too,” I replied slightly warily. “She’s very easy company.”

  “She likes you, you know. I just wondered if you were planning to do anything about it."

  I was taken aback by her directness, and by her reading of Katie’s feelings. Before I could answer, Rebecca continued.

  “Katie comes across as very strong and confident. But David really hurt her. I wouldn’t want to see anyone hurt her like that again.”

  At last I found my voice. “Look, I think Katie’s great. Very attractive, lovely personality. But I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment. You’ve no need to worry about me.”

  Rebecca looked at me appraisingly. “You might find that Katie’s not prepared to leave it like that. I like you, Jack – you seem a genuine bloke and I suspect the two of us could get along very well. All I’m saying is if things do develop between you and Katie, make sure you treat her properly. Otherwise you’ll have me to answer to.”

  “She’s lucky to have a friend who cares as much as you do.” I said.

  Rebecca smiled, a warm and open one this time. “Katie’s a pretty easy person to care about, as I think you’re about to find out. Of course, you mustn’t ever tell her I said so, or she’ll think I’m going soft.”

  She went out, and I took a few moments to enjoy the drink and the biscuits before going out to face the two of them. They had finished all the other ceilings.

  “Woodwork next, I guess,” I started to say before remembering our previous exchange. “I mean, what do you two think we should do now?”

  “I suppose we may as well try and get through a room at a time,” Rebecca suggested. “How about if you do the woodwork and Katie and I will tackle the walls.”

  We agreed to start in the furthest room – George’s – and work our way back. Katie fetched the radio, and once we’d managed to shift the filing cabinets into the middle of the room, the three of us got to work.

  Being in the room with the two of them, it soon became obvious what close friends they were. They managed to keep up a steady stream of jokes and teasing, broken up by their singing duets whenever a song came on the radio that they liked. It was amazing how easy and comfortable it was to join in with the flow. The time flew by, and within a couple of hours we had finished the room.

  “Time for some lunch,” said Katie. “Shall we just get a snack and keep going?”

  “I’ll go out and get some sandwiches and drinks.” Rebecca offered. “What are you in the mood for?”

  While she was away, Katie and I shifted the ladders and paint into the first of the counselling rooms.

  “You didn’t mind me bringing Rebecca along, did you?” Katie asked.

  “Not
at all. It’s really good of her to give up her time to help. We’re getting on really well.”

  “We’re going out this evening, once we’re done here. Do you fancy coming with us?”

  I was tempted for a split second, but then the emotional shutters came down again.

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass,” I replied. “I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”

  “You wouldn’t,” she said sounding disappointed. “We’d both love you to come with us.”

  “No, I can’t. But thanks a lot for the thought.”

  Thankfully, Rebecca chose that moment to return, armed with bacon rolls and some cans of Coke. We polished them off fairly quickly, and then got back to work.

  The afternoon passed just as quickly, and we managed to finish both counselling rooms and the corridor.

  “Just the kitchen and reception to do tomorrow,” Rebecca said cheerily. “Right, where are we going for tea?”

  I figured that I’d better get my apology in quickly. “I explained to Katie that I’ve really got to get away now. I hope the two of you have a good time.”

  Rebecca pursed her lips and looked at me. “We might let you get away with not spending the evening with us, but there’s no way you’re going home until we’ve all eaten together. It’s for the solidarity of the oppressed painters.”

  There didn’t seem to be much alternative, so despite my protests the three of us ended up together sitting around one of the tables of a small Italian restaurant. I started off quite tense, but it was hard not to relax around Katie and Rebecca. While we were waiting for the main course, Rebecca kept us both entertained with stories of her work, and the intense arguments that tried to decide the best way of selling more chocolate bars.

  The service at the restaurant was relaxed and leisurely, and the food was excellent. There was a lot of laughter as we ate, and I found myself feeling thoroughly glad Rebecca had bullied me into coming. It had been a very long time since I’d been out for a meal with friends, and I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. There was a slight pang of longing when it came time to decline their offer to continue the evening in a local pub, but I overcame it.

  We’d arranged to start later on the Sunday, so I got to the Centre at around 10 o’clock. Katie was already hard at work, painting the kitchen walls.

  “No Rebecca today?” I asked.

  Katie turned and smiled. “She said that as there wasn’t that much left to do, we could finish off without her. She’s not escaping totally though, she’s under orders to have cooked lunch for us all by one.”

  Something of my hesitation must have shown on my face, as Katie frowned slightly.

  “You didn’t have plans or anything did you?”

  “No,” I said carefully, “I just didn’t want to intrude.”

  “Don’t be daft. We were planning a proper lunch today to mark the last weekend before we both go to our families for Christmas. We’d both love you to come round and join us. Anyway, if you turn down Rebecca’s cooking, she’ll never forgive you.”

  “In that case, I’d better come,” I conceded.

  The two of us worked in companionable silence for the rest of the morning, finishing just after mid-day. We went round and inspected the rooms. There was certainly a noticeable improvement.

  “Not bad at all.” Katie concluded as we washed up the brushes in the sink. “If George ever gets rid of us, we could set up together as painters and decorators.”

  “I don’t think it’s quite that good,” I laughed.

  Katie and I walked back together to my flat to collect the car.

  “How would you have got home if I’d said no?” I quizzed her.

  “I’d have rung Becky, and she’d have come and picked me up. We didn’t think you would say no, though. Especially not if I asked you nicely.”

  I looked at her carefully. She had a small smile playing across her lips, but her eyes suggested a slight vulnerability as she waited for my response.

  “How could I possibly resist?” I joked, and was rewarded with a broad smile which this time did stretch to her eyes.

  When we got to their house, it was obvious that Rebecca had been busy. The dining room was decorated with candles, and the table itself was set with Christmas crackers.

  “Do you need any help, Becky?” Katie called.

  “It’s all done. Just sort out the drinks and we’ll be ready to go.” Rebecca yelled from the kitchen. “Glad you could make it Jack.”

  A few minutes later I was sitting down with a cold glass of beer in my hand, as Rebecca produced a delicious looking roast chicken. As she and Katie brought out bowls of roast potatoes, vegetables and sausages, I had to admit that this was much better than the solitary meal of reheated curry that I had planned.

  “Since we were at college together, this has been a long standing tradition,” Katie informed me. “The last Sunday before we went home, we would do a special lunch.”

  “I feel very honoured to participate in such a noble tradition, then.” I replied. “Are you both going away next weekend?”

  “I’m off to visit the folks in Devon,” Rebecca volunteered. “My brother and sister will both be there as well.”

  “And I’m escaping for a week with my parents who live on the Wirral,” Katie added. “My sister and her family are supposed to be staying for a few days as well. What about you, Jack? What are your plans for Christmas?”

  “I don’t really have any family, so I usually offer to be on call from the Centre. I’ll see a few friends or something on the day,” I said, trying to sound casual. The truth was that unless I dragged myself out to church, I wasn’t likely to see or hear from anyone, but I wasn’t planning to admit to that. Sympathy I could do without.

  From then on the meal was great. Again it was so easy to be drawn into the flow of their conversation that it felt as if I’d known the two of them for years. We pulled the crackers; wore the silly hats; acted out the mimes; and groaned at the awful jokes.

  When we had finished eating, I helped clear away and wash up.

  “It’s been great, but I’d better be on my way,” I suggested.

  “Don’t you dare,” answered Rebecca. “No guest may leave until the ceremonial watching of the Christmas DVD is complete.”

  “Go on then, what is the Christmas DVD?” I asked in amusement.

  “It’s a Wonderful Life!” Katie announced triumphantly, producing the box from a bookshelf.

  I watched them get the fire going and then Katie and Rebecca took one couch, while I sat on the other one. For the next hour or two, we sat and enjoyed the film. I know that proper film critics often condemn the film as over sentimental and corny, but it’s one of my favourites. Maybe I’m biased because I share a surname with the main character, but it never fails to touch me. The bit at the end where all the town rallies round to show James Stewart how much his life has meant to them always leaves me with a lump in my throat. If only real life was so comforting and pleasant.

  When the credits began, there was a slight pause. “So you two watch this every year?” I asked.

  “That’s right,” Katie answered. “It sort of marks the start of Christmas for us.”

  “It’s been a really nice afternoon. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Oh, you’ve had it now Jack.” Rebecca chipped in. “Once you’ve become part of this ancient ritual, you’re expected to come every year.”

  “That would be nice,” I said. “But I really have got to head home now.”

  I said goodbye to Rebecca, and Katie came with me to the door. As I went to open it, she spoke quickly.

  “Just hang on a second Jack. I don’t want to back you into a corner, but I’m getting the feeling I’ll be waiting for a long time if I expect you to make the first move. I had a really great time the other night with you, and I’ve enjoyed this weekend. Tell me if I’m making a fool of myself here.”

  “I’ve had a great time too,” I began, searching for the right words. Before I got th
em, Katie carried on, her eyes questioning.

  “I’d like us to try and get to know each other better, Jack. I don’t know if it’ll work out between us, but I think we could enjoy finding out. I think we could both use someone who’d be kind.”

  “You could be right. But my track record isn’t great, and I wouldn’t want to hurt you some more.”

  She looked deep into my eyes. “I’m prepared to take that chance. I think there’s a lot more to you than you give yourself credit for. What are you doing on Friday evening?”

  When your head isn’t keeping up with your emotions, you tend to say the most ridiculous things.

  “I usually just spend Fridays at home, watching whatever I can find on the TV,” was my particularly uninspired response.

  For the first time since we’d come out of the lounge, Katie smiled. “OK then, how about if I come to your place, and we can get a take away and watch it together.”

  My head was screaming with a hundred reasons why this was a really bad idea, and a dozen excuses to put her off. Once again, my mouth decided to operate independently.

  “That would be nice,” I said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Katie and I only seemed to meet in passing in the following week at work. She was pleasant enough when we did cross, but I got the impression that she was trying to keep out of my way as much as possible. Possibly she thought that if I got the chance, I’d come up with a reason to cancel our date. Probably she was right.

  Although in one perverse way, I was grateful for the prospect of Friday. It at least gave me something else to worry about when the vision of Jennifer’s face woke me up with a start in the early hours of the morning

  I was aware that the continued disturbed nights were beginning to show on my face. George looked increasingly worried each time we met. I was pretty sure he had spoken to Barbara as well, as she seemed especially solicitous whenever we talked.

  On Friday morning, George came into the room I was working in.

  “Jack, how are you really? And don’t try to fob me off with a “fine” again, because I can tell you’re not.”

 

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