How to Fall

by Jane Casey

  Sylvia looked worried. ‘I don’t think I could do that, Darcy. It wouldn’t be fair.’

  ‘But you’re her boss. She’d have to do it if you told her to,’ Darcy wheedled.

  ‘And why exactly do you care?’ I asked.

  ‘Because I really want to try it on but it wasn’t made for a girl shaped like me. Seeing it on you is the next best thing.’

  I snorted. ‘Put it on Brenda. Or Marilyn. Marilyn would rock it.’ Marilyn was the one-eyed blonde, named by Sylvia in a rare burst of imagination once I’d introduced her to Brenda.

  ‘Not the same.’ Darcy pressed the material against her, measuring the waist. ‘Ugh. I wouldn’t get it over my head.’

  ‘Too bad.’

  ‘You are no fun.’ Darcy hooked the dress onto a rail. ‘This job is wasted on someone like you who doesn’t care about fashion.’

  ‘My job, you mean. The job that you’re basically sharing for no pay.’

  Sylvia looked worried. ‘I could probably manage a little, Darcy. You are being very helpful, dear.’

  To give her her due, Darcy didn’t consider it for a second. ‘No way, Miss Burman. I’m just hanging out in here because I really like it and I’ve got nowhere else to be. I don’t mind helping while I’m here.’

  ‘But if you’re helping in the shop I should make sure you’re recompensed.’

  ‘Really. I don’t need anything.’ Darcy was looking stricken. I leaned out from behind Sylvia and flapped my arms up and down. It took her a second to catch on to what I meant, and even then she wasn’t totally sure she’d got it. ‘I want to do it for free because . . . I love owls so much?’

  ‘Who doesn’t?’ Those two words were the first clue we’d had that anyone was watching us. It was my fault. I’d wedged the shop door open to allow some light and air in, so there had been no warning, no tell-tale jangle from the bell to tell us anyone had come in – but there Will stood, smirking. Even though I knew his voice the moment I heard it, I jumped. Darcy whirled round with one hand to her chest, dramatic as ever.

  ‘God, Will, you scared the crap out of me.’ She looked back over her shoulder. ‘Sorry for swearing, Sylvia.’

  Sylvia looked up from her book. ‘What?’

  ‘Never mind,’ I said at the same time as Darcy. To Will, I said, ‘You really do love to make an entrance, don’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘It’s just that you seem to like surprising people.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘People?’

  ‘Me.’

  ‘It’s not intentional.’

  I was starting to blush under his cool scrutiny. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing.’ He lifted up the toolbox I hadn’t noticed he was carrying and rattled it. ‘It’s what I can do for you. Or rather, Miss Burman.’ The smile he gave her was considerably more pleasant than anything he’d thrown in my direction so far. ‘Dad said you wanted to get a couple of things fixed.’

  ‘Oh yes. You’re so good to think of it, Will.’ Sylvia got up and began to wring her hands. ‘The changing cubicle – I don’t know if it’s possible to fix it, but the curtain isn’t quite right.’

  ‘The rail’s broken,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll have a look at it.’

  ‘And that shelf.’ I pointed. ‘The bracket’s come away from the wall. We can’t use it at the moment.’ The whole thing tilted at a drunken angle.

  ‘Should be easy enough to sort out.’

  ‘I was going to have a go myself, but I didn’t have any tools.’ Just because I’m female doesn’t mean I need help with any vaguely practical task.

  ‘OK, then.’ Will put the toolbox down on the floor in front of him. ‘Help yourself.’

  I looked at it, wishing I hadn’t said anything.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Jess. Let Will do it.’ Darcy sounded bored. ‘He’s good at that kind of thing.’

  ‘It’s not fair if I have all the fun.’ He was looking amused and I bristled.

  ‘That’s fine. I have other things to do. But thanks.’

  ‘Any time.’ Will picked up the toolbox again and went over to the changing room, where he spent a couple of minutes tinkering with the curtain rail. I couldn’t help watching, but if he was aware of that, he didn’t show it. He looked very much as if he knew what he was doing too.

  ‘Can you do anything with it?’ Sylvia asked eventually.

  ‘It’ll be good as new.’ He said it with quiet confidence and it was totally unfair of me to be annoyed by it. I couldn’t help hoping, though, that the rail would fall down as soon as he started to work on it, or that he’d hit his thumb with a hammer, or drop a screw and have to go hunting for it in the twilight dimness of the shop. Any mistake would do.

  Unaware of what I was thinking, Will started to work. I forced myself to concentrate on what I was doing – arranging jewellery and accessories in the now sparkling display case. No one had ever lined up bracelets with more care. No one had ever spent longer getting a knot out of a chain. Anything to keep my focus on the job in hand and my eyes away from Will, though I was hyper-aware of every sound he made. He was taking his time, working with as much attention to detail as if he had someone really difficult to impress, when Sylvia would have been delighted if he’d nailed the curtain to the plywood wall of the cubicle and called it fixed.

  I was so busy not watching Will I completely missed Darcy trying to get me to look at her. The first I knew of it was when a faded felt hat with a bunch of glass cherries on the brim skimmed across the counter.

  ‘Hat frisbee, woo-hoo. Throw it back,’ Darcy said, clapping her hands.

  ‘No.’ I brushed some dust off the crown. ‘You’ll ruin it.’

  ‘Who’s going to buy that? It’s hideous.’

  ‘Someone will love it. That’s the whole point of charity shops. One person’s rubbish is another person’s treasure.’ I put the hat on, settling the brim over my eyes. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Perfect if you were starring in a 1980s film with John Cusack as your love interest. Here and now?’ Darcy looked pitying. ‘Pensioner chic.’

  ‘I like it,’ Sylvia said.

  ‘There you go.’ Darcy grinned. ‘I knew I was right.’

  ‘OK. You’ve made your point.’ I handed it to Sylvia. ‘It’s yours. Try it on.’

  She put it on gingerly, much too far back on her head, and I leaned over to adjust it. It actually suited her.

  ‘How does it look?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘Come and see, Miss Burman.’ Will was holding back the curtain so she could see herself in the mirror. She peered at herself shyly.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’

  ‘You look lovely.’ He smiled at her reflection and I stopped in the middle of what I was doing, genuinely surprised by how nice he was being to her. She blushed and scuttled away, muttering something about putting some money in the till, but she looked delighted as she disappeared into the back room.

  ‘How’s the rail?’ Darcy asked.

  ‘Fixed.’ Will let the curtain swing back down. ‘Now you can try on whatever you like.’

  ‘If only.’ She picked up the dress again and sighed, but she was looking at me over the top of the hanger.

  ‘Forget it,’ I said.

  ‘You don’t have any excuse now. The changing room is fixed.’

  ‘That wasn’t why I said no before, and I’m saying no again.’

  ‘You’re a bad person.’ Darcy wandered over to where Will was testing the broken bracket under the shelf. ‘Will, you’d like to see Jess in this, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you ask her to try it on?’

  He didn’t even glance at it. ‘No chance.’

  ‘Why not?’ Darcy asked what I was thinking. I’d have said no, obviously, but it would have been nice to think he’d have liked to see me in the skimpy dress. Just so he could see what he could never have, I told myself, slamming the cabinet door so hard that all my carefully arrange
d necklace stands fell over. I swore under my breath and opened the door to start again.

  Will raised his voice over the rattle of costume jewellery. ‘I mean, you have no chance of persuading her to wear it. You’re more likely to see Sylvia parading around in it than Jess.’

  This time, I was the one who asked the question. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because you’re incredibly stubborn and once you’ve made up your mind, no one can persuade you to change it.’ He said it in a matter-of-fact tone, without turning round. I gave a little gasp of outrage. He was right, but I could still be affronted.

  Unmoved, he went on. ‘Besides, it’s not you.’

  ‘How would you know?’ I wished I could see his face.

  ‘I’ve got eyes.’ He was tightening a screw, putting some force behind it. ‘You would never wear anything like that.’

  I didn’t answer him, which made him look round, eyebrows raised. ‘Am I wrong?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘So give up, Darcy. Not going to happen.’ He tossed the screwdriver up in the air so that it flipped end over end a couple of times, then caught it.

  ‘You’re no help. But I suppose that shouldn’t come as a surprise. I’ll see you later, Jess. I’ve got somewhere else to be.’ Darcy dumped the dress on a chair and stropped out of the shop.

  ‘Maybe I should just have tried the stupid thing on.’

  ‘Don’t break your heart over her. She’ll survive.’

  I was just about to ask Will what he’d meant about not trusting Darcy when Sylvia emerged from the back room, blinking like a tortoise coming out of a long hibernation.

  ‘Is Darcy gone?’

  ‘Just now,’ I said, hoping she wouldn’t ask why.

  ‘I’m going to make a move too,’ Will said. ‘The shelf’s fixed. Unless there’s anything else?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Thank you, Will.’

  ‘Any time.’ He knelt down and started to tidy away his tools, his hands quick and methodical.

  ‘Hands,’ I said. Will looked up, surprised. ‘Brenda’s hands. The mannequin. In the window.’ I pointed. ‘Her hands have fallen off and I can’t get them to stay on.’

  ‘It’s not my speciality but I’ll have a go.’ He stood up. ‘Show me?’

  I was acutely aware of him standing behind me as I retrieved the hands. Brenda was wearing a new skirt that just happened to be floor-length and therefore perfect for hiding things, such as her missing body parts. The hand I’d reattached had fallen off again during the night and acquired a new chip on the wrist. He turned them over, examining them.

  ‘What do you think, Doctor? Is there any hope?’

  ‘Traumatic amputation. That’s never pretty.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ll do my best, but I think her embroidery days are over.’

  ‘As long as she can wear bracelets again, I’ll be happy.’

  Will grinned. ‘Superglue should do it.’

  I sat down on the floor beside him to watch him work. ‘Why are you helping Sylvia?’

  He shrugged. ‘Because I can. She’s a nice lady.’

  ‘And you really care about owls.’

  ‘Of course.’ He looked at me sideways. ‘Then there’s the fact that my father volunteered me for this.’

  ‘Oh, you got volunteered too?’

  ‘Who signed you up?’

  ‘Tilly.’

  ‘I’m sure she had her reasons. And I’m sure you had your reasons for saying yes. You’re here for the money, I take it.’

  I put my chin on my knees. ‘Are you going to make me feel bad about that?’

  ‘Nope. I’d never criticize anyone for earning their own cash instead of just taking their parents’ money.’

  ‘None to take,’ I said cheerfully. ‘At least, Mum doesn’t have any.’

  ‘What about your dad?’

  ‘He wouldn’t share it with me. He needs it for his girlfriend.’

  Will’s eyebrows drew together as he considered that. ‘So they’ve split up? Your mum and dad?’

  ‘Last year.’

  ‘Is your mum seeing anyone else?’

  I frowned, surprised. ‘Are you interested in her or something?’

  ‘Got it in one.’ A quick glance at me. ‘You don’t know why I’m asking?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘You don’t know anything about why she left this place, do you?’

  I had gone very still. ‘What do you know?’

  ‘You need to talk to her. Ask her about it.’

  ‘I have. Of course I have. She’s not very forthcoming.’

  ‘I can’t say I’m surprised.’ Will had stuck the fake hands into place and now he tilted Brenda so they were braced against the wall. ‘Don’t move them. The glue needs a few hours to stick properly. She won’t be adjustable any more but you should be able to accessorize her outfits from now on.’

  ‘Don’t change the subject. What do you know about Mum leaving?’

  ‘It’s not my place to tell you.’

  I squeezed my arms around my knees, maddened. ‘You are being intentionally unhelpful.’

  ‘Just ask her.’ Will was packing up his stuff again, his eyes on what he was doing. ‘Ask her what happened before she left. Ask her why she couldn’t come back.’

  ‘Will.’ The word cut through the shop like a ninja throwing star.

  Will flinched. He stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. For the first time I saw him look awkward and I wasn’t mean enough to enjoy it.

  ‘Dad.’

  I stood up too, craning to see over the rack of hats in front of me, and felt a jolt of shock. The new arrival was Will – a broader, greying version of him with deep lines around his eyes and mouth, but pretty much Will in twenty years. He looked at me and the steely scrutiny was familiar, even though his eyes were a muddier shade of grey than his son’s.

  ‘And you are?’ He asked it as if he had a right to know the answer.

  ‘Jess Tennant.’

  ‘Jess Tennant.’ His face hadn’t changed but he kept looking – staring, really – until I was too embarrassed to stand it any longer. I headed for the relative safety of the cash desk, letting my hair fall forward to screen me from his gaze. There was nowhere to hide, of course. He crossed the shop and stood in front of me, still staring.

  ‘You’re a recent arrival in Port Sentinel. That’s why we haven’t met.’

  I smiled, still on edge. There was something about his face – something was missing, something I’d seen and responded to in Will’s. A hint of sensitivity about the mouth, maybe – a softness to the eyes. Will’s father was pure granite. If I had to name one emotion he was experiencing, based on the look in his eyes, I’d have to pick hatred. Which was impossible.

  ‘I’ve been here for a few days. On holiday,’ I said.

  ‘Not much of a holiday if you spend it working.’

  ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘Good for you. I like someone with get up and go. I have to make Will find something useful to do with himself during the holidays. Otherwise he’d spend his time lazing about doing nothing.’

  It was completely at odds with the opinion I’d formed of his son. Politeness demanded that I laugh, but I glanced over at Will and found that I couldn’t, quite. Not at his expense. Not with that guarded look on his face. It was hiding something; something that I thought was hurt.

  If I wasn’t smiling, Will’s dad made up for it, grinning at me. It transformed him and almost wiped away the terrifying first impression he’d made. He stuck out his hand. ‘Dan Henderson. I’m the local bobby.’

  ‘I thought you were more senior than a bobby.’ His palm was rough against mine, calloused in places, as if he spent a lot of time out of doors.

  ‘I’m the local inspector,’ he admitted. ‘Stay out of trouble while you’re here, Jess, and we’ll get on very well.’

  ‘That’s certainly my intention.’ I was aware of Will watching us, of the tension in his posture. I wondered what he was
afraid of.

  As if he could hear what I was thinking, his father wheeled round abruptly. ‘What have you done so far?’

  ‘I’ve finished,’ Will said quietly.

  ‘Let me see.’

  Mutely, Will indicated the curtain rail. His father shook it as if he was testing its possibilities as a trapeze. ‘Not bad. But you made a bit of a mess at this end. You should repaint that wood.’

  It was on the tip of my tongue to correct him; he was talking about the end of the rail that hadn’t needed to be fixed. If it was an untidy job, that was down to whoever had installed it in the first place. But Will was as capable of pointing that out as I was, and he said nothing, nodding when his father looked round at him. And if Dan Henderson was as determined as he seemed to be to find something wrong, letting him settle on something that simple was probably a good idea.

  ‘What else?’

  Will pointed out the shelf, which passed muster.

  ‘And what were you doing in the window?’

  ‘Talking to me, mainly,’ I said cheerfully. I didn’t think Dan would approve of the superglue solution. Will didn’t look at me, but Dan turned.

  ‘I see. Have you two met before?’

  ‘Not properly.’ Fine, so it was a lie, but Will’s eyes met mine for a split second and I saw a gleam of relief.

  ‘I’m sorry I interrupted, then.’

  ‘You didn’t interrupt anything.’ And even if we had been having a romantic liaison, I wouldn’t sit in a shop window on the main street in town to do it. I didn’t even know if that was what he had been implying.

  ‘We should go.’ They were almost the first words Will had spoken since his father arrived.

  Dan clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to knock him off balance a little. ‘Never outstay your welcome. You’re learning.’

  ‘You’re so kind,’ Sylvia said. ‘He’s a good boy, Dan. He’s just like you were at the same age.’

  ‘I don’t know which of us would be more disappointed if that were true.’ Dan smiled at her as if he’d said something pleasant instead of cutting.

  Will picked up his toolbox and nodded to Sylvia. I got a glance as he went out of the door, a look that was too quick for me to be able to guess what he was thinking. In contrast, his father took his time to leave, shaking my hand again and holding onto it for a fraction of a second too long as he stared into my eyes. He had got as far as the door, and I had got as far as letting my shoulders slump with relief, when he turned back.