by Bladen, Ceri
“Who is helping you in the pub?” asked Tom, suddenly not too happy with the idea that she would be on her own.
Willow was glad they seemed to be back onto a normal conversation with the undercurrents subsiding a little. Perhaps it was just her normal emotional-self reacting to something that wasn’t there anyway. “Dad has got Fred helping me. He works at The Swan, so I don’t have to worry about showing him the ropes.”
Tom rattled his brain to remember Fred. A short, rotund man with a few strands of grey hair, in the popular comb-over style, sprang to mind. “Ah yes, I know Fred. Give me a shout if you need me to carry anything heavy.”
Willow’s forehead creased in confusion; even though Fred was short he was strong as an ox. Suddenly she realised Tom’s mistake, he was thinking of the father not the son, Fred Junior. She giggled, “No, Fred’s son, Fred Junior.”
Jealousy surged through Tom at a ferocious speed wiping out the early relaxed feeling he had been enjoying. He knew Fred Junior alright, bit of a swaggering, arrogant, love-them-and-leave-them type. Perhaps he needed to keep an eye on Willow.
“When are your parents off?” Tom tried to make his voice appear disinterested, but he was very interested in her reply.
“Monday morning. They will be back on the weekend.” Willow looked towards her mother who had finished with the butcher and was walking towards them. “Unless they prefer to live on the farm.”
“No chance, all those smelly animals!” Her mother shuddered. She showed the packet in her hands, “Although they aren’t too bad to eat at times!”
The trio laughed, “Okay, better get my meat for my mother before I’m in the dog house! See you at the Lion.” He raised his hand in goodbye before turning calmly towards the butcher.
His outward appearance was not reflective of his insides, they were still churning with the uneasy feeling of Fred being alone with Willow.
~~~~
“I’ll get these boys.” Tom rose off the bench ready to go to the bar.
“Make mine a mild this time, all that bitter is making me feel full,” Dai patted his stomach to prove his point.
Tom rolled his shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief, it had been a long stressful week. Willow’s parents would be home tomorrow and as far as he could see, Fred had behaved himself around Willow. The churning feelings of distrust weren’t sitting well with him, it had unsettled him and he liked to feel hassle-free. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Willow with Fred, he just didn’t trust Fred not to make a play for Willow. She was beautiful and unattached, ideal for Fred to make a move, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Dismissing the fact that what he was feeling could be jealousy, he knew whatever the feeling was, he didn’t like it.
He walked over, leaned on the bar and tried to look relaxed. A smile played on his lips, but never reached his usually animated eyes. “So…” he dragged the word out, “…your parents are back tomorrow then?” He gave a wary glance towards Fred who was busy serving a customer, oblivious to Tom’s feelings towards him.
“No … did you want any snacks this time?” asked Willow.
“No?” Tom almost spluttered the word out as he moved to put both hands on the bar.
“No, my cousin has just had a baby, so they are staying for a couple more days to coo at the baby!” Willow initially expressed some amusement at the image of her parents in her mind then her breath caught in her throat, they should be cooing at their own grandchildren by now. She shook the negative feeling away. “They insisted coming back for the delivery and of course, the weekend, but I eventually persuaded them that Fred and I can cope.”
Tom didn’t like the look that Willow and Fred exchanged when she smiled at him and Fred returned it. He wasn’t comfortable with intimate looks or smiles going on between them. But there was nothing he could do, so he took the drinks and returned to his friends.
“Christ, what’s wrong with you tonight?” Michael asked his brother. “You certainly are snappy, like a bear with a sore head. Jane giving you problems?”
Tom scowled at his brother. “Why do you assume if I am not the life-and-soul that it is to do with a woman?”
“Because it usually is!” John responded, enjoying teasing the usually content Tom. His good friend had been in a strange mood all week and tonight, he had turned snappy too. John sat back and reflected, “Well Sally certainly affects my moods more than anything else I know. Luckily it is usually for the best.” Talking about his wife suddenly made him want to go back home. “Anyway guys, I’ll leave you to it. Time to get home to my wife and baby.” He downed the remains of his drink and waved his goodbyes.
“Great, now you are frightening people off Tom!” laughed Michael. It felt good to let off some steam teasing his brother, the mines had been hard today, hence why his father had gone straight home after their shift. He leaned over the table to chat quietly to Tom without the others hearing him. “So brother, what is the problem? You’re not normally so agitated with folk.”
Tom dragged his eyes away from the bar, but still scowled at his pint. “It’s nothing really Michael. Things are fine honestly. I’ve just got a few things on my mind, that’s all.” His eyes were drawn towards Fred again, his eyebrows still puckered in testiness.
Michael followed his brother’s eye line, things started to make sense. Not too difficult to understand what was winding his brother up, Willow certainly was a woman that would make a man take a couple of looks. Perhaps his brother was receiving something he didn’t usually experience, liking someone who wasn’t interested back. Curious, but time to change the subject to make the evening more pleasant.
Tom relaxed back into the chair, the conversation with Michael and his friends had put him in a better frame of mind. In the lulls of the conversations, he had covertly watched the interaction between Willow and Fred. It still didn’t sit too comfortably with him, but from what he could tell about Willow’s body language, it was just a working relationship. He unwound a little. Tom knew that he was attracted to her and he knew he would act on it, sometime, but he wasn’t comfortable with anyone else trying before him.
“Sorry Fred, the crisps are gone. Would you mind getting a box from below for me? I’m stuck with this big order otherwise I would do it myself.” Willow enquired. She had enjoyed working with Fred while her parents had been away. He had even been good company when they weren’t working, her card skills were certainly getting better. Although she hadn’t shared her fears with her parents, she had been secretly worried about working with him as she knew about the reputation Fred had. Luckily, he had been nothing but courteous and professional with her, so they enjoyed an easy going working relationship. She turned back to her customer. “Yes Will, what else would you like while you are waiting for the crisps?” As she half turned to reach for the vodka, Willow heard a noise and a shout from the basement. She threw the glass onto the bar, vodka spilling out of it.
Tom had been observing Willow, liking the way she used the back of her hand to push any stray hair off her face, he wouldn’t mind pushing her hair off her face. Suddenly she turned and left Will at the bar, who was now trying to lean over and look into the back. Something wasn’t quite right, Fred wasn’t there either. Tom made his way over to the bar.
“Someone call an ambulance!” Willow shouted up the stairs, hoping that one of the customers would be nosey enough to wonder where she was. She cradled Fred’s head on her lap, his face pale and sweat already starting to bead on it. She didn’t dare look towards his leg where he was trying to hold, but with the pain being so bad, he couldn’t. She shouted louder, afraid to leave Fred just in case he became unconscious.
Tom shouldered his way through the increasing crowd around the bar. Everyone sensed something was wrong, but didn’t know what. “Willow?” he shouted but heard nothing in return. He felt uneasy. Too concerned about her, he went behind the bar and found the door that led down to the cellar. He took in the scene below him. He turned and shouted over his shoulder, “Jack
, use the phone and phone for an ambulance, Fred looks as though he has fallen down the steps.” Tom cursed, irritated that John had already gone, as like his father, Dr Bevan, John had started training to be a doctor, which would be very useful now. He made his way carefully down the stone steps, he certainly didn’t want to end up like Fred, although he wouldn’t mind having his head in Willow’s lap!
~~~~
Even though it was still too early, Willow was glad when she finally bolted the door, she still felt queasy. Gripping the bolt she lay her head against the door, breathing in a little of the clean air the open door had brought in. Nobody had really complained about the early closing time, only the occasional grumble from the customers who had nothing better to do with their evening. Most of them could see how upset and green Willow was.
Poor Fred’s leg had been a right state, the unforgiving hard stone floor helping to poke the bone through his skin. Tom had told her to look away when the ambulance men had started to cut his trouser leg away, but to her regret, she hadn’t. She had just stared, unable to tear her gaze away, until Tom had grabbed the back of her head and cradled it on his chest. She felt amazingly calm in his embrace, listening to his heartbeat, even though there was chaos going on behind her. At some point someone had shoved a whiskey into her hand and pushed it to her lips to drink, the fierce sting reviving some sense back into her. Embarrassed she had pulled out of his embrace, it was Fred who needed comforting not her.
The noise of scrapping wood turned her around. “Look Tom, thank you for your help, but I am fine now, honestly.” She noticed his eyes narrow as he studied her.
“No, you are still a funny shade of green. I’m stopping here with you until your parents are back.” He watched her mouth start to form a protest. “No arguments. Michael has gone home to tell my parents and to grab me some clothes, so everyone knows where I am. I’ll stay where Fred stayed, so there are no problems there, and I can help behind the bar and with the delivery.”
Willow gave a tired sigh, knowing that she did need the help with the pub; she really didn’t want to bring her parents back if she didn’t have to. “No, there is no problem.” She replied quietly, although she had the uneasy feeling that spending a couple of nights under the same roof with Tom wasn’t going to be as easy going as it was with Fred.
~~~~
Willow was glad it was bed time, after Fred’s accident, she had enough for one day. The glare from her bedroom lights were too much for her tired, grainy eyes so she turned her lights off, just relying on the slight glow from the street light. After wiping off her make-up and taking out her hair band, Willow pulled on the t-shirt that she slept in. Her adrenalin had stopped pumping around her body and now she felt shattered. She couldn’t wait to clean her teeth and crawl into her comfortable bed. Yawning, she walked to the door, begrudging the precious minutes she would have to spend in the bathroom when she could be sleeping.
Tom pulled open the bathroom door, his mind fully absorbed in Fred’s accident. Even though he didn’t particularly like the man, he wouldn’t wish that break on anyone. The creaking sound of the door forced him to look up. Standing in the bedroom door opposite was Willow. Tom was taken by surprise, he hadn’t expected her to be standing there. He thought she was already asleep as there wasn’t any light coming from under her bedroom door, he had paused and looked before he had gone into the bathroom. Her one hand was covering a yawn, while the other was fluffing up her curly hair, which had been tied up all day. Her arm movements had dragged her t-shirt high up her thighs. His gaze skimmed over her, heating his blood. She was nearly too much, those miles of legs. The light from the street lamps outside her window gave enough light to silhouetting her body shape through the t-shirt. He watched her eyes skit over his chest, which was naked, and saw her skin colour. It pleased him that there was such an obvious reaction from her. Just an attraction on both sides he reminded himself, play it cool. “Goodnight.” Tom said lazily, mischief playing in his eyes. Tom nodded his head in departure to a gobsmacked Willow and left her standing. An amused smile played on his lips, he hoped she had as little sleep as he knew he was going to get.
Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh! Willow gulped as she watched Tom’s retreating back walk down the hallway to the bedroom he was staying in. Being so drained and sleepy, she hadn’t even checked to see if he had finished in the bathroom. She certainly wasn’t sleepy now. Suppressing a groan she realised that sometimes she missed having a husband! Perhaps having Tom helping in the pub was not such a good idea.
Chapter 8
Willow clutched the jar of pickled eggs to her chest, preoccupied with dreaming rather than tidying ready for the delivery tomorrow. Tired, but feeling content, she allowed herself to indulge in a little make-believe involving Tom. She leaned against the shelf at the back of the room, closed her eyes and took a lazy breath in, feeling tranquil and content, even at the late hour. Working with Tom had been fun, the day had just flown by. It had been much more… exciting… than when Fred had been there, that was for sure. Between the teasing, smiles and flirting, Willow felt as though her protective shield was being chipped away, he certainly had a way to make you think that you were the only woman around, the only one that mattered. She huffed and using her foot, pushed herself away from the shelf, annoyed at herself. Putting the jar on the shelf with a bit of a jolt, Willow reminded herself of why someone like Tom would be totally wrong for her. Her fantasises would have to stay firmly in her brain. She made her way towards the front when she heard a noise.
“No!” Willow shouted, “Don’t let the door…” she heard it thud, “…close.” She mouthed the rest while she heard the crash of the handle falling on the other side of, the now, shut door.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know the handle was broken.” Tom explained, the offending handle firmly in his hand. He gave an apologetic smile.
Willow let out a breath and swallowed her irritation with him; he didn’t know that it was broken. Her father had been promising to fix it for months, but they all knew it was faulty, so it wasn’t too much of a problem – until now. Willow wasn’t really annoyed with him; just having indulged in such vivid fantasies involving him, she was suddenly very uncomfortable being stuck in the store room with him. Irritation was an easier emotion to deal with at the moment than attraction. Willow fought hard to re-establish her defences, it was too dangerous to relax and forget his reputation.
An amusement danced in his eyes, “Well at least we won’t get hungry…” Tom gestured to all the crisps and snacks, trying to make light of the situation. He himself didn’t relish spending time in the cold, tiny storeroom, but there were worse things in life.
Willow wrapped her arms around her body and looked at his smiling face, her heart giving a quick sprint. She hugged her arms tighter knowing she was too keenly aware of him as her entire body was responding to his nearness, sending prickles of sensations down her body. She forced her voice to be firm. “Well we might have to rely on them as there is no one around until tomorrow morning when the draymen come with the delivery.”
Realisation flittered over Tom’s features. “Oh! That is a problem then.” He looked around the stock room, it was going to be a very uncomfortable night. He hadn’t figured that they would have to spend the night in there, perhaps being so near to Willow and not touching her would be worse than all the other inconveniences.
“You think?” Willow retorted sarcastically, trying not to sound too defensive. Her heart rate accelerated, she forced her body to behave normally. The last thing she needed was to give him any sign of encouragement. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as she started to shiver. Great, she thought, it would be cold too as the storeroom was next to where all the barrels were stored, no heating.
Tom noticed her shiver and then realised that she only had a thin shirt on. “Come here and warm yourself up. You can have my jumper.” While Willow watched, he took off his jacket to remove his thick jumper and then held it out for her to put on. He w
as thanking his lucky stars that he had put his coat on earlier when he was taking the rubbish out the back.
Willows feet stayed rooted to the floor, conflict warring in her mind. She lowered her gaze desperately fighting the powerful attraction. She really did not want to get involved with him, but was struggling to work out how not to. Willow really didn’t want him to know how much he affected her, especially locked up in the small cupboard with nowhere to hide. He still held the jumper out at arm’s length for her to take, his eyes narrowed slightly in question. She desperately sort an adequate reason to refuse his offer as she really didn’t want to be swathed in his jumper which would smell of his masculine scent. She shivered again realising this was no time to be impractical, she was getting colder by the minute. She took the jumper with a mumbled ‘thanks’. As she pulled the jumper on, Tom found two footstools that were normally used for reaching the high shelves, to sit on.
“We can use these for now. At least it will keep us off the stone floor. I’m going to check if I can open the door first.” For different reasons, they were both hoping he could.
When they realised that there was no hope opening the door, Tom sat down. Time seemed to drag initially, conversation was stilted, both very aware of the charged tension in the air. Gradually, the rigidity disappeared and the usual easy conversation returned. During a conversation about their childhoods, Willow failed to stifle a yawn.
“Come on, time for a sleep.” Tom got off the small wooden stool and stretched to try and work out some knots that had appearing in his muscles. He rolled his shoulders, unsure whether the tension was from the hours sitting on a tiny stool or the thought of spending the night with Willow and not be able to touch her.