The Hopes and Dreams of Lucy Baker

by Jenni Keer

  Jess had ordered Lucy not to get anything special in for dinner. She was happy to take pot luck. A random cook, Lucy was the sort of girl who opened the fridge, selected a handful of ingredients and whisked something up with a flourish. Considering she was as disorganised with food preparation as she was in most other areas of her life, she had very few failures – the pea and banana risotto being the only one in recent memory.

  They ate a simple pasta dish and sank the first bottle without much trouble. Deciding to eat in the garden, they enjoyed the intoxicating scents that drifted over the wall from Brenda’s medicinal jungle and chatted about work.

  ‘Bloody Sam’s still got one more day in accounts. You should have seen Margaret yesterday – she was flapping about like a bat tied to a tree. At one point she was so flustered she dropped a stack of invoices and they cascaded across the office floor like a pack of playing cards. It took us twenty minutes to put them back in date order,’ complained Jess. ‘I don’t think she’ll cope with another day of Big Brother watching.’

  ‘Accounts will be okay. I can’t see Sam losing anyone in your office.’

  ‘Not worried about that. More worried about the changes she’s making. She’s talking about updating our system just when I’ve got the hang of the current one. She’s implied on more than one occasion that we are massively behind the times, but if it ain’t broke, I’m not sure she needs to be fixing it. Fancy software is all very well until it crashes.’ Jess waited for a reaction but clearly didn’t feel Lucy was looking suitably sympathetic. ‘You needn’t look so smug. She’s got her eye on your system as well – says it’s all outdated and we need to encourage more online orders, email promotions to customers rather than printed leaflets, set up a company Facebook page, that kind of thing.’

  ‘Poor old Adam,’ Lucy said, although she thought Sam had an excellent point about the old-fashioned nature of the company, especially as the Teletubby fliers had taken her half a day.

  Jess glanced at her watch and put her wine glass down on the kitchen table.

  ‘Right, enough faffing, missus, it’s action o’clock. Let’s see what clues we can gather about this mystery man of yours. I mean, let’s feed George’s cat.’

  Chapter 21

  Scratbag began weaving in and out of their legs as soon as they unlocked the back door. Lucy fed him and changed the water in his bowl.

  ‘Okay, let’s do this.’ Jess swung the hallway door open and walked into the main part of the house. She turned back to check Lucy was following. ‘What are you doing, Luce? Please don’t tell me you are actually on tiptoe?’

  ‘I don’t want anyone to hear us.’ Her heart rate was through the roof.

  ‘He’s in Germany. He’d have to have supersonic hearing. Walk properly, you muppet.’

  Lucy fumbled about and fished the locket over her cotton top, clutching it in her left hand. Her breathing slowed and she dropped her heels to the floor.

  Jess opened the door to the living room. It was identical to Lucy’s in proportion but considerably less cluttered. And without any knitted companions.

  ‘Oo, loving the black and white furniture. Very chic.’

  ‘We don’t need to go in there.’ It was bad enough they were going in his bedroom, she didn’t want Jess poking about anywhere else.

  ‘Don’t you want to know a bit more about him? I do. On your behalf.’ Jess flicked the light on.

  ‘Jess!’

  ‘Chillax, hon. I’ll be quick. Real leather. Classy.’ Jess stroked the furniture as though she was caressing the arms of a lover. ‘A man of taste. Not many knick-knacks though are there?’

  ‘I know. None of the usual clutter most people accumulate,’ she agreed, trying to placate her friend and get her out of the room as quickly as possible.

  Bobbing down on her knees, Jess started poking about in the large white, fitted cupboards either side of the fireplace.

  ‘Come away from his personal stuff, Jess. I’m warning you.’ Lucy was mortified that her friend was now riffling through his possessions. Not that he had many, but it was the principle.

  Jess closed the cupboard door, but not before she’d opened another one and had a look inside.

  ‘These cupboards are empty, Luce. This man has nothing. Do you reckon he’s on a witness relocation programme or something? ’Cause this is seriously weird.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s not a hoarder.’

  ‘This is more than the result of a tidy mind. Everyone accumulates things: books, photographs, silly tat that you buy on holiday and unwanted presents you get from family at Christmas. It’s what happens. It’s almost as if he’s never lived a life before moving here. Perhaps my witness relocation programme isn’t such a wild idea.’ And Jess meandered back to the hall, her hand trailing over the furniture along the way.

  The girls went up the first flight of stairs and worked out which was George’s bedroom as it was the only one furnished, but it looked more like an impersonal hotel room. It had a large double bed with coordinated bedding, some basic storage in the form of a chest of drawers, a matching bedside table and a fitted wardrobe that ran the length of the room. And it was so tidy. No odd socks scattered across the carpet or abandoned books. Just a phone charger, a solitary photo and a pair of perfectly positioned black leather shoes next to the bed.

  ‘A photo at last. Guess we’re right about this being his bedroom then.’ Jess pointed to the black and white photo of an older man with a strong genetic similarity to George on his pine bedside table.

  ‘Okay, let’s get it over with,’ Lucy said. She pulled a few hairs from her head and counted out three. ‘So where do I put them? Under the pillow?’

  ‘Better put them under the bed itself, like the spell said. Give them here. I’ll do it.’

  ‘I’m not totally useless.’ Lucy knelt beside the bed and bent down to get underneath. ‘There. Done. Let’s go.’ She swivelled back to face the room. ‘Jess! Will you stop being so nosy?’

  Jess stood in front of his open wardrobe, running her hand along the row of coat hangers.

  ‘Nice clothes. What there are of them. This is a man with a sense of style and a wallet to finance it. I’m loving the Hackett polo shirts. I wondered if the Audi might be a company car, but after looking at his furniture and his clothes I’m thinking he has some serious money lying around. Things are looking up – for you, I mean. It will be nice to have a boyfriend who isn’t short of a euro or two.’

  The girls were halfway down the stairs when Jess stopped. ‘You keep going. I’ve got to go back and see if I closed the wardrobe doors properly.’

  ‘You did. I checked.’

  ‘It’s no good. I have to be sure. You go down and make sure nothing is out of place in the living room.’

  ‘We wouldn’t need to do all this checking if you hadn’t poked around in places you had no right to be poking around in.’

  ‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry. You were right, but just do it will you? I won’t be a sec.’

  Jess was a good couple of minutes and Lucy was about to call up to her when, horror of all horrors, she heard a key turn in the front door. Her heart doubled its pace and she went hot and cold all at once. What was George doing back?

  She ducked into the utility and closed the door softly behind her. Oh no, Jess was going to be discovered and he was going to be furious.

  ‘What on earth are you doing in here?’ George’s booming voice echoed down the hall. It was all over. He’d found Jess. How embarrassing. He’d confiscate the key and never let her feed Scratbag again. ‘Did that ditzy girl let you out of the utility? I specifically asked her not to. I don’t want you clawing the sofa or weeing on the bed…’

  Ah, not Jess. They’d inadvertently let Scratbag into the main part of the house. She tried to exhale the pent-up breath quietly.

  ‘Come here, my beautiful boy. Better dose up with the antihistamine if I’m back again. Are you surprised to see Daddy? Daddy’s a bit surprised to be back home himself. He’s h
ad one hell of an evening.’

  Daddy? Lucy smiled to herself. The softer side Brenda had been so convinced was lurking underneath the blunt exterior was clearly only reserved for the cat. And a cat he had professed to barely tolerate at that.

  Footsteps clumped down the hall and into the adjacent kitchen. A cupboard door opened and closed again. The tap was turned on briefly and then silence.

  Time ticked by and Lucy wondered what her best course of action might be. Should she make a run for it or wait for Jess? If she left now she would have to lock up after herself and that would definitely lead to the discovery of her friend. But if she waited around and he entered the utility she would be found, unless she climbed into a cupboard or hid behind the trouser press. Neither option was realistic.

  Further clanking in the kitchen made her glance at the utility door in expectation. Then she heard the fridge open.

  ‘Come on, fella. Let’s have a boys’ night in front of the TV.’ George’s voice carried through the wall. ‘I’ll just nip and put the television on while the tea brews.’ There were footsteps down the hall and then the distant drone of music from a television being switched on.

  Aware of a warm sensation across her chest, Lucy looked down at the locket. This was ridiculous. Why was she hiding in his utility room when she had a legitimate reason to be here? She swung open the door to the hall and met George returning to the kitchen.

  ‘Hi,’ she beamed her widest smile at him and then looked down at Scratbag, weaving in and out of George’s legs and purring louder than the exhaust of a teenager’s souped-up car. ‘I was just about to feed him, but it appears Daddy’s home early. What a lovely surprise.’ She bent down to pet the cat, who walked up to her hand and nuzzled his tiny head against her outstretched fingers.

  George coughed. ‘Yes, well, I obviously didn’t realise we had an eavesdropping visitor. Not sure why I slipped into baby talk, probably because I’m exhausted, not to mentioned severely pissed off. My meeting was postponed at the last minute as their CO came down with food poisoning, but I didn’t find out until I was in the damn departure lounge.’

  ‘You don’t have to apologise to me for showing your cat affection,’ Lucy said. ‘Anyone would think you were afraid of people seeing your nice side.’

  ‘What do you mean? I’m always nice.’

  Lucy raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Okay, I’m sometimes nice. In fact, I’ve just made a pot of tea. Would you like to join me? It was remiss of me not to have offered before.’

  Aware poor Jess would still be lurking upstairs, and seeing a chance to allow her friend to escape, she accepted. ‘Just a quick one then.’

  He directed her to the living room and disappeared to make the tea. When he returned, they stood awkwardly by the mantelpiece, clutching their mugs as a detective drama played in the background. Lucy heard soft, paddy footsteps down the hall and the utility door close. George didn’t appear to hear anything, and stood awkwardly, trying to make small talk as Lucy practically downed the hot tea in one.

  ‘Right, I’m off.’ She thrust the empty mug at him.

  ‘Oh. Thought you were going to stay for a bit?’ George furrowed his brow.

  ‘Sorry, gotta dash. I’ll see myself out,’ and she left an open-mouthed George, looking more bereft than she’d expected.

  ‘Oh, bye then,’ he mumbled.

  ‘That was close,’ Lucy said, as the girls tumbled into the hallway of the flat together.

  ‘You have no idea. I had to walk past the stupid cat. It swivelled its inky-black head as I passed and gave me the evils,’ said Jess.

  ‘It’s okay. We can bribe him with tuna steaks and he’ll keep your secret safe.’

  ‘Good job I don’t have any secrets then.’

  ‘Apart from Daniel, you mean?’ said Lucy.

  Chapter 22

  As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them, but that was what a large glass of wine and a confidence-boosting locket did for you.

  ‘What makes you think I have a secret concerning Daniel?’ Jess asked, avoiding eye contact.

  Lucy was forced to relay the Tardis incident, astonished the company gossip hadn’t made it into the accounts office. Everyone else had been teasing her about it for days.

  ‘If he was only apologising because he’d cornered the wrong person, then he was clearly assuming the right person wouldn’t have minded. And then you cancelled on me. And Dashing Daniel was strutting around the office and singing even more than he usually does. You could have told me, you know? I’m pleased for you. You’ve had your eye on him for months. Perseverance clearly pays off.’

  The dejected look on Jess’s face didn’t sit well with a girl enjoying those exciting early stages of a relationship. Her posture crumpled and she shook her head.

  ‘Oh, Luce. I’ve made such a fool of myself. We all know he’s a flirt, but he’s a good-looking one and he drives a nice car. He didn’t want a girlfriend. He wanted a good time.’

  Lucy looked at her remorseful friend. ‘Oh, sweetheart.’

  Jess turned away and picked imaginary fluff from her skinny jeans. ‘An expensive date at some posh place in Bedford where there was enough cutlery for four people. A night in a Travelodge the following Friday because I’d held out on the first date. And then he decided it wasn’t a good idea to be dating someone from work. I’m not stupid. He was never interested in me as a long-term prospect. I was just another number in his iPhone.’

  ‘I’m sorry, honey.’ She was furious on her friend’s behalf. Next time he asked for help with the ClickIn starter sets, she might just tell him where to store them.

  ‘I’m the one who should be sorry. He made a move on you.’

  ‘Barely. He switched the light off, went a bit Leslie Phillips on me, and then Sam opened the door. So, on top of all her concerns about my competence, she now thinks I’m the office bike.’

  ‘When in reality it’s me?’ she sniffed.

  ‘No. It was just Daniel being Daniel and muddling us up.’ She put her hand on Jess’s knee. ‘Will it make things awkward at work?’

  ‘No. I’ve drawn a line under it and put it through the shredder. He was nice enough, very apologetic and all that, but clearly wasn’t looking for the long-term relationship I had in mind.’ She flicked away a burgeoning tear with her thumb and broke out a dazzling smile. ‘But you know me? Onwards and upwards. I have a Plan B. There is someone else on my radar.’

  Lucy looked at her friend expectantly.

  ‘It’s just a possibility at the moment. I don’t want to rush and get burned twice in a row. But if things pan out like I hope, then I’ll tell you all about it.’

  ‘Okay, but I want to be the first to know if there might be a romance on the horizon. And if I bag horrible old Mr Sneezy Pants, we could be double dating before you know it.’

  Jess didn’t answer.

  Early the next morning, while the girls were munching on slices of toast and peanut butter before the commute to work, there was a heavy knock at the door.

  ‘It’s George,’ Lucy sighed. ‘I’d know his hammering anywhere. I can’t possibly answer in my T-shirt and pants.’

  ‘I’ll get it.’ Jess jumped up from the table.

  ‘But your nightwear is skimpier than mine.’ The hem of her silky chemise barely covered her bottom.

  ‘He’s not come here to look at me,’ Jess said, reaching for the latch.

  Lucy slunk behind the kitchen door and peered through the gap.

  ‘Is Lucy in?’ George asked, in his usual blunt manner.

  ‘Can I take a message? She’s…indisposed.’

  ‘She left the spare key at mine yesterday.’

  ‘Ooo, at that stage already? She’ll be moving in before you know it.’ Jess gave him a cheeky nudge of the elbow. She was swishing her hair around and her voice was bubbly and slightly breathless, but Jess was like this with everyone – even the postman.

  Looking around for the locket, Lucy found it near the
kettle where she’d taken it off the previous night. She slipped it over her head, even though she was aware it was slightly odd to accessorise Hello Kitty nightwear with Victorian silver jewellery.

  ‘Ignore her,’ Lucy said, stepping forward and tugging at the hem of her T-shirt. He’d seen her in bedwear before, but she’d been wearing bottoms when they’d run down Tudor Avenue together in the rain. Although she knew Jess wasn’t after George, poor George didn’t know that, and she needed to stop him being used as a temporary ego boost after the Daniel disaster. ‘She’s only teasing. She knows full well it’s so I can feed Scratbag.’

  Lucy slid past Jess and stood directly in front of George. Gosh, he was extremely tall when you stood up close.

  ‘Lucy.’ He nodded, but his gaze didn’t linger as long over her body, she noticed.

  She tried to make eye contact, remembering Jess’s tips for attracting men, but he looked away, so she swished her hair. It became tangled across her face, and in desperation she reached out for his arm. There was a moment of silence when George looked down at his arm, Lucy looked down at his arm, and she squeezed his firm muscles for want of something to do with her now embarrassingly redundant hand. She cleared her throat and took a step back. Jess made this flirting malarkey look easy, but it wasn’t.

  ‘Coffee?’ she ventured, trying to remember where she’d stashed her mother’s Colombian ground coffee.

  ‘I’ll pass.’

  ‘Okay. Another time?’

  ‘Hmm….’

  And he was gone.

  As the girls were getting in their respective cars and heading off for work, Chloe’s mum from opposite called over to them. Although not a close friend, Lucy had got to know her when they both volunteered to help with the Renborough summer fayre the previous year. Bolder than Lucy, she’d dressed up as Madame Zelda for the fortune telling. Lucy stuck to behind-the-scenes help: knitting a rodent for Splat the Rat, folding endless raffle tickets and washing up in the refreshment tent.