The Hopes and Dreams of Lucy Baker

by Jenni Keer

  Perhaps, thought Lucy generously, Jess had rejected George. To be fair, she hadn’t hung around long enough to witness the end of the encounter. Jess had always maintained she didn’t fancy George and that he absolutely wasn’t her type. Perhaps after the initial shock of being so dramatically swept off her feet, she had pulled away and told him his advances were unwanted.

  Knit one, purl one, knit one… Her needles clicked as her fingers automatically formed the stitches without the need for her to focus. If Madame Defarge could knit code as she sat by the guillotine, surely her anger and deep unhappiness could be worked into her own knitting? The tension of her stitches increased as her hot hands fumbled with the wool, and it became harder and harder to push her needle through the loops.

  So much for the locket helping her to find her true love. It had been an unmitigated disaster from start to finish. She’d followed all the spells and yet George had chosen Jess. Lucy cursed as her shaking hands wobbled the needles and several stitches were dragged off the end. She was getting herself into a state and it wasn’t going to help matters. Taking a deep breath, she carefully fed them back on. It was all so unfair. Jess wasn’t even interested in George. She had some mystery man that she’d set her sights on. Someone she didn’t feel she could share with Lucy yet.

  Lucy frowned and placed the knitting on the sofa beside her. Then she picked it up again, shaking her head. She looped the wool over the needle but stopped mid stitch, laying it beside her again.

  There was no doubt in Lucy’s mind that the locket was magic; the changing inscriptions were proof enough of that. So perhaps it had worked after all. Perhaps she should consider the possibility that someone else had been performing the spells alongside her own disastrous efforts. Perhaps someone who had been with her every step of the way, someone looking for a wealthy boyfriend to get her out of her unhappy domestic situation…

  No. Lucy shook her head. Jess wouldn’t do that. She’d been so helpful. In fact, every time the locket had changed, she positively insisted on knowing the next spell…

  Lucy put her hands to her face as realisation dawned and explanations for her friend’s actions offered themselves. She had generously bought Lucy the beeswax candle, but who was to say she hadn’t bought one for herself? Every time a spell was completed, she had begged to be included in the next part. Lucy rubbed her temple. Which spell had come after the candle? The hairs, that’s right. Without invitation, she had shown up and insisted on helping her get the hairs under George’s bed, which Lucy had done herself, so how could Jess have undone that?

  Lucy stood up and started to pace the living room as if the act of taking each step would bring her closer to the solution she was muddling through in her head. Of course, Jess had returned to close the wardrobe. Lucy’s shoulders slumped as she remembered each of the spells: Jess turning up at George’s with food when Lucy was away, the unexplained cut on George’s hand and Jess placing all the items on the pentagram. Events suddenly made uncomfortable and gut-wrenching sense.

  She pressed the speed dial for Jess and walked over to the large front window as she waited for her friend to pick up. She mustn’t assume, she kept telling herself. There could be a perfectly rational explanation. Someone else could have undone the spells and Jess’s keen involvement could be what she had believed all along – the genuine desire to help a friend. But with the nagging doubt gently tapping at the entrance to her brain, she needed to get a straight answer one way or another. The ringtone buzzed in her ear and she watched a curious Scratbag leap up onto her front wall and stare at her. She moved away from the window.

  Jess finally picked up. ‘Lucy, I’m glad you’ve rung. I need to speak to you—’

  ‘I saw you and George outside the factory earlier,’ Lucy interrupted.

  ‘Yes, we saw your yellow car pull away. Oh Luce, I need to apologise—’

  ‘Did you undermine the spells, Jess?’ Lucy asked, cutting through her friend in a deliberately calm voice.

  ‘Yes, and I’m so sorry.’ Lucy’s stomach slid down to her knees. ‘But—’

  ‘Why?’ It came out as a whine. ‘You told me he wasn’t your type.’

  ‘Come on, Luce, he’s everyone’s type. You told me even Brenda has the hots for him and she’s old enough to be his grandma.’

  ‘So you’re telling me you’ve always been attracted to George?’

  ‘From the first moment I saw him I thought he was bloody hot, but you kept insisting you weren’t interested. You were so grumpy and negative about him, whereas all I could see was a big, strong man who wasn’t short of a bob or two, and had a sexy alpha-male thing going on. You didn’t want him, so I thought I’d do the spells and have him.’

  Trying to stay calmer than she felt, Lucy’s eyes started to prick with gathering tears.

  ‘You’ve lied to me, time and time again, and manipulated me. How could you do it? That’s not what friends do.’

  ‘But you don’t understand—’

  ‘I understand all right. You betrayed me, so you are no longer my friend. There’s nothing more to say.’

  ‘But, there’s something important—’

  ‘Stay out of my life, Jessica Ridley. I don’t want to hear it.’ Lucy hung up.

  Within seconds, her mobile was buzzing. Seeing it was Jess calling, she blocked the number.

  Anger fizzed up inside her like bubbles in a dropped Coke bottle. All it needed was someone to open the lid and she was certain she would explode up the walls. She wasn’t the sort of girl to hit things but had been known to launch the odd Barbie doll or high-heeled shoe at her sister when they were growing up. Throwing the mobile at the sofa, still rational enough not to launch it at anything that would permanently damage it, she watched it bounce off a surprised Wolverine and slide down his legs to the floor. Sinking to her knees, Lucy let the building emotions escape, and a small gathering of woolly celebrities could only watch as a heartbroken young girl sobbed her heart out on the fireside rug in front of them.

  Emily returned to the flat as the daylight ebbed away.

  Lucy had been curled up in a tight ball for the last hour, a thick crocheted blanket enfolding and comforting her tiny body, as she stared like a zombie at the TV.

  ‘I’ve been into work and thrashed out the details, and then Stu met me for lunch,’ Emily called from the hall as she closed the front door and walked into the living room. ‘We both said things that needed to be said and cleared the air. I’m going to return…’ She dropped her handbag on the sofa arm and rushed over to her sister. ‘Luce? What’s wrong?’

  If Lucy had harboured any thoughts of concealing her dark mood from her sister, they vanished within seconds. They knew each other too well.

  ‘Man trouble. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over it.’

  ‘I didn’t even realise there was a man.’ Emily nudged her sister’s feet with her bottom and nestled beside Lucy. ‘I know I’ve been wrapped up in my own problems, but I’m still here for you, you know?’

  ‘I know, but there’s not a lot to tell. I like someone. He likes someone else. Simple. In fact, I shouldn’t be wallowing over him because I’ve had some good news today. I’ve been promoted to East Anglian Area Sales Representative. I get a company car and a sales-related bonus.’ She tried to sound upbeat about the job that only a few short hours ago had been such marvellous news, but she couldn’t.

  Emily smiled but the smile was fleeting. ‘I, more than anyone, know that the heart is a much harder beast to satisfy than the head. Come here, you, let’s hug it out.’

  So Lucy let herself be crushed and comforted by her big sister and the tears fell again for the big, silly neighbour who had broken her heart.

  Lucy plastered a bright smile and perhaps a little too much make-up over her face before visiting Brenda the next morning. Emily had returned to the bosom of her family the night before, after a sisterly chat and lots of chocolate helped them to put the world to rights.

  Before Brenda’s door had
swung open, the old lady’s arms were outstretched and concern for Lucy was apparent across her face.

  ‘My darling girl, what’s wrong? I’ve hardly slept. I felt all was not well with you and it’s made me restless. Come out of the rain and talk to me.’

  It had been hammering down since four a.m., as if the heavens could feel Lucy’s pain and decided to have a good old blub in sympathy. Being back in her own bed hadn’t resulted in a better night’s sleep. She watched each flash of lightning cut through the black and into her own troubled heart. Crawling from beneath the covers in the dead of night, she opened a window in a desperate effort to rid herself of the suffocating heat and her suffocating thoughts. The cooling, clean, damp air was a welcome relief, but her mood plummeted again when she realised the locket was still missing. If ever there was a time she needed it, it was now. How could she face Jess without it?

  Brenda’s bony hands reached out and guided her through the door and into the living room. The antique wooden mantel clock ticked away as they settled together on the sofa, bypassing the amiable chair.

  ‘Scratbag told me all was not well and I could feel your unhappiness as if it was my own.’

  ‘Scratbag did not come over and talk to you,’ Lucy said, dismissing a fleeting image of the cat chatting away with Brenda over a saucer of muesli, but the hint of a smile danced across her eyes.

  ‘You don’t have to speak words to be able to convey a message. Anyway, it doesn’t matter how I know. I just know. Come on, young lady, tell me what’s going on.’

  Lucy told her friend what she’d witnessed between George and Jess, and Jess’s subsequent admission. Brenda was scrunching up her wrinkled lips and shaking her head as Lucy relayed Jess’s betrayal.

  ‘I thought there was something going on. The chair didn’t like her much, remember? And she was a difficult one to read. I’m sorry. I should have spotted it and done more to help.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Brenda’s eyes fell to her liver-spotted hands. ‘This is all putting rather an unexpected spanner in the works and I’m running out of time for things to adjust themselves.’ She looked up and caught Lucy’s bemused expression. ‘What I mean is, I wanted everything to run smoothly for the party. It’s only days away now. George is invited, you know. I don’t want there to be any awkwardness.’

  Lucy took a moment to consider her feelings. ‘I promise nothing will spoil your party,’ she said. ‘We’re all grown-ups and it’s not his fault either, not really.’

  ‘But you do have feelings for him, don’t you, my dear?’

  Lucy sucked in a breath and exhaled the truth she’d known for several weeks. ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I’m not sure how I would feel without his huge frame stumbling around in my life, throwing itself over me at inopportune moments and scooping me up when I do a face-plant on his hall carpet. You may have to work hard to get a smile out of him, but when you get one, it takes your breath away. You were right about him all along. He’s a big softie underneath and one heck of a sexy man on top.’ She put her hands over Brenda’s. ‘I think I’ve been in love with him for quite some time, but my heart forgot to email the message to my brain. Either that, or the message went straight into the junk folder.’

  Chapter 52

  Triple-checking there was absolutely nothing she could do to help Brenda with preparations for the birthday party on Saturday, and being told repeatedly that Party People had it all in hand, Lucy started to plan the toy nativity in earnest. They’d finally presented the idea to Sam and got a thumbs-up. Adam took on the role of finding sponsors and liaising with the local papers when the time came. Pat was keen to get involved and offered to make the stable, as her husband could do wonderful things with plywood and she was handy with a paintbrush. All Lucy had to do was coordinate the knitting of about thirty figures in as many weeks. Just about doable with the help of the Knit and Natter, and just as well she didn’t have any distractions, like a social life or a boyfriend. She decided on the donkey from Shrek, Shaun the Sheep, Kung Fu Panda and a smattering of Minions to help fill the stable. Brenda’s present had been finished earlier in the week and was now boxed and wrapped, ready to hand to her in the morning, so Lucy was free to focus on the office project.

  Having managed to avoid both Jess at work and George at home, Lucy was unexpectedly cornered by him in the road on Friday. He’d obviously been waiting for her to return because his front door opened as soon as she pulled into a kerbside space. She was surprised to see him during daylight hours, but then remembered he’d taken the week off.

  ‘Lucy, I need to talk to you,’ George said, trailing after her as she strode towards her flat. ‘I’ve been talking to Jess and it upsets me that you’re quarrelling. Have you got a moment? I think you may have misunderstood the—’

  ‘Sorry. I can’t do this right now.’ Her cheeks flushed scarlet and she ran up her path, into the flat, and firmly closed the front door behind her. She simply couldn’t face justifications from George or pleas for them to remain friends, because being that close to him again had reminded her how strong her feelings for him were.

  Lucy and Brenda, with more than two generations between them, sat together in the garden later that evening, enjoying the last of the sun as the trees started to cast the tiny patio in shade. It seemed to Lucy that all the birds within a two-mile radius were sitting on Brenda’s roof or roosting in her trees that evening. There was a fragrant honeysuckle dousing them with its scent and Scratbag was rolling around at Brenda’s feet, hoping for a tummy rub.

  ‘You’ll wear the locket tomorrow, of course? To indulge an old lady?’ she said.

  It was time to come clean.

  ‘Oh, Brenda. I didn’t know how to tell you, but I’ve lost it. I’ve had the flat upside down and everything. I’m so sorry. You trusted me with it and I’ve let you down.’

  ‘Tish. I gave it to you, Lucy. If it’s lost, then it’s lost. It’s just a locket.’

  ‘How can you say that? It’s a very special locket. One I need desperately to help me get through bumping into George in the future, which is sadly inevitable as he only lives a hop, skip and a big, manly stride away.’

  ‘You don’t need it, although it has a way of appearing when it’s required. I doubt it has gone far. Perhaps it’s resting for a while; after all, it has had an unusually busy few weeks.’

  Lucy’s hands went to her stricken face as she realised a further complication. ‘And I’ll need it to help me with my new job. How can I talk to all those people and persuade them to buy from Tompkins without it? I only got the job in the first place because of the confidence it gave me.’

  Brenda gave a sigh and reached for her hand. ‘No, Lucy, you didn’t. You got the job because your boss saw your potential and you deserved it. The locket had absolutely nothing to do with it.’ Brenda looked somewhat sheepish. ‘The truth is, my dear child, it is a powerless, if somewhat attractive, lump of metal.’

  ‘But it made George fall in love with Jess.’ Lucy knew she sounded like a petulant child but she didn’t care. Stupid locket making her lose such a lovely man to someone else.

  ‘Tish. That locket can no more make someone fall in love with you than I can mount the broomstick in the pantry and sail through the night sky.’

  ‘You’re saying the locket isn’t magic?’

  ‘Well,’ Brenda conceded, ‘there are elements about the locket that it would be difficult to explain to a man of science.’ She avoided Lucy’s eyes and ran her fingers up and down the edge of the garden table, watching as a ladybird landed on her hand and quickly flew off again.

  ‘Like the words changing?’

  ‘Yes, but that’s visual magic not emotional. I told you, Lucy, magic can’t go against the natural order of things. It can’t make someone behave out of character. It can’t make someone fall in love with you. Or create a confidence in someone that doesn’t exist. That was all you. I just had to get you to believe in yourself
. A bit of trickery on my part, but it was for the greater good, and you came out of your shell. You’ve lost faith in your abilities because you’ve lost the locket, but they haven’t gone anywhere.’

  Lucy’s spirits were lifted for about a millisecond before a devastating thought struck her and tumbled to the floor to sit beside the jagged pieces of her heart.

  ‘But that means George chose Jess over me. That no magic was involved and he still wanted her.’

  ‘You have to talk to him, Lucy. The eye is not always the best judge of what is going on.’

  Lucy returned to the flat having decided that she was definitely, absolutely, and without a shadow of a doubt able to move on from George. She could be the bigger person and gracefully accept he had chosen the pert breasts, tanned legs and Union Jack talons…erm, fingernails over her. Friends would be manageable. Eventually.

  Deciding to get in quick before her mother rang with the weekly update, she called to check up on her sister.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough for letting me crash while I got my head together. Stupid hormones,’ Emily said.

  ‘Don’t be silly. I was flattered you felt you could come to me. Any further news?’

  ‘Only confirmation of the things I’d discussed with work in the week. They’ve written my absence off as sick leave and I return on Monday, but in a reduced capacity. I’ll take my maternity leave as early as I can, but they know I’m not returning. Now I’ve made the decision, I don’t feel under so much pressure and can enjoy the remaining few weeks. Stu’s been really supportive. He’s even been talking about downsizing the house, but we’ll see. You?’