‘She’s absolutely fine,’ Peter said again when he picked up for the fourth time, before she’d even said a word. ‘Stop worrying.’
She’d been put on bathrooms, which she didn’t mind – it made her feel important when customers asked her opinion. She imagined now she was in charge of the whole department – what it would be like to manage her own store.
‘Hi there.’ She turned from her daydream to see a man in his early twenties. She’d seen him before. Maxen. Yes, Maxen that’s what he’d said his name was that day in Kathy’s café. It had been a few years since she saw him last, and she wasn’t sure he recognised her. She wouldn’t jog his memory.
‘Can I help?’ she said, in her best voice, trying to push the last moment he’d spoken to her out of her mind.
‘I’m looking for taps, please, Ava,’ he said with a wide smile.
She passed her hand over her name badge, feeling strangely uneasy.
‘This way,’ she said, leading him down the correct aisle, sensing his eyes on her back as she walked. She pointed out the selection on display.
‘Thanks,’ he said, with a hint of a Welsh accent. ‘I haven’t a clue what I’m doing.’ He scanned the shelves. ‘We’ve got a faulty tap – sprung a leak – Dad’s at home controlling it while I save the day. Plumber-man to the rescue.’ He clenched his fists and playfully raised his arms at the elbow, like he was Superman.
She smiled, her feeling of unease lifting.
‘Except—’
‘You haven’t got a clue.’
He laughed and rubbed his temples. ‘Dad’s always rattling on about how Mum was the whiz in that department. Well, all departments really. There wasn’t much she couldn’t turn her hand to, apparently.’
‘Wasn’t?’ It was out before she could tell herself it was none of her business.
‘She left when I was three.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thanks, but it was a long time ago. I barely remember her.’
‘But I shouldn’t have poked my nose in. Sorry.’
‘No worries, honestly,’ he said. ‘Now about these taps, I’ve got visions of my dad drowning if I don’t get back soon.’
She helped him pick some out using what she hoped was a good sales technique.
‘Cheers,’ he said with a smile, picking up the box and heading away. Perhaps he hadn’t recognised her. Had she really changed that much?
‘If you have any problems let me know,’ she called after him.
‘Thank you, Ava, please send my love to Gail.’
And there it was.
He had remembered her too.
*
‘Who was that?’ Dexter said, coming up beside her.
As she looked up at him, her stomach twisted, like it had the day she met Justin. ‘Just a customer.’
‘You seemed very chatty.’
‘I’m good at my job,’ she said, smiling. But Dexter’s eyes had fallen on the man. Her gaze joined his, and together they watched as he loaded the taps onto the counter, and laughed with the checkout operator.
‘His name’s Maxen,’ she whispered.
‘Sorry?’
‘Nothing,’ she said, deciding Dexter didn’t need to know. ‘Not important,’ she added, heading away.
*
It was almost a week later that Peter and Ava sat in the lounge of Ocean View Cottage, the smell of a chicken roasting making her hungry. If there was one thing her mother could do well, it was cook a Sunday roast.
Peter was making Ava laugh about the antics they’d got up to on Rory’s stag do the night before. She could tell Peter had had a few too many; he looked pale, his eyes red-rimmed, and he was swallowing down painkillers with a pint of water.
Ava tried to imagine her future brother-in-law tied to a tree, half naked, and stifled a laugh. ‘He could have died of exposure. It’s pretty cold out there for November.’
‘Nah, one of his mates felt sorry for him. Went back to save him. Everyone else went home at that point. Anyway, it’s no more than he deserved,’ he said, plonking the half-drunk glass of water onto the coffee table. ‘Rory can be a right prick at times.’
‘Can he? He seems OK to me.’ She wasn’t sure she meant it. She was still conflicted by how she felt about Rory.
Peter picked up his cigarette packet, then put it down again as though he couldn’t face going outside for a smoke. ‘Admittedly Rory was trashed last night. He came straight from work, and we didn’t eat until about ten, but he was chatting up loads of women. If Gail knew, she’d bloody kill him.’
‘Maybe we should tell her, or Mum.’
‘Tell Mum what?’ Jeannette said, poking her head out of the kitchen, furrowing her forehead.
‘Nothing,’ Peter said. Then whispered in Ava’s ear, ‘It’s not our place to interfere.’
Jeannette entered the lounge, both hands clutching a mug of tea, and plonked herself down on the sofa, her face shiny from cooking, and her hair flyaway. She put the mug down, and picked up the local newspaper that was folded on the coffee table, and began flicking through it – her presence rendering Peter and Ava silent.
‘Oh my God,’ she said, pausing on a page. ‘This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.’
‘What’s happened?’ Peter said, glancing at Ava, and then back at their mum.
‘A young girl was attacked near Crantock.’
‘God that’s awful. When?’ Ava asked.
‘Last Wednesday. A rapist far too close to home.’ She lowered the newspaper, her eyes meeting Ava’s. ‘You must be careful at night,’ she said. ‘You never know who could be lurking about.’
‘You’re freaking me out, Mum. I’m always careful,’ Ava said, rubbing her neck.
‘Yes, well.’ Jeannette closed the paper and placed it back on the table. ‘Be even more careful from now on, Ava.’ And with that, she rose and, with her mug in her hands, headed back to the kitchen.
*
Dexter was sitting under the bus shelter when Ava approached. It was the first time she’d seen him there as he was normally dropped off at work by his mum.
‘Hey, Ava,’ he said, taking off his headphones so they hung around his neck, his eyes meeting hers.
Ava’s stomach tipped and her heart picked up speed. ‘Hey,’ she said, sitting down next to him. A silence followed, and she was relieved when the bus appeared.
Once on the bus, she plonked down in a seat next to the window, and Dexter sat down beside her.
‘Fancy seeing The Others tonight?’ he said, once they were travelling through the village.
She twirled her hair around her finger. ‘At the cinema?’
‘No, at the swimming pool.’ He laughed, and she smiled. His hair and eyes looked darker than ever, so different from his mother with her ginger hair and freckles, who she’d seen in the local shop a few times. ‘Nicole Kidman is meant to be awesome,’ Dexter continued. ‘It’s supposed to be creepy.’
Ava hated the thought of ghosts. When she was little, Gail told her Ocean View Cottage was haunted. She’d slept with a torch under her quilt most nights after that, as Gail hadn’t let her sleep with the light on.
‘With you?’ Excitement bubbled. She sounded ridiculous, but couldn’t quite believe he was asking her out. He couldn’t possibly know about her past – about Willow.
‘No, with Bugs Bunny.’ He laughed again. ‘Yep, of course with me.’
The giddy feeling evaporated, as Willow drifted into her thoughts. She couldn’t leave her daughter all day and then go out in the evening, could she? But if she told Dexter about her daughter, would he still be interested? A wave of guilt that she was hiding Willow from him lowered her mood further. ‘I don’t think I can,’ she said.
He looked surprised, as though he wasn’t used to rejection. ‘Fine,’ he said, turning away from her, staring out of the grubby window.
‘It’s just, well …’ Would Peter look after Willow? She would be in bed asleep before she even left the house. �
��Well, OK then,’ she said.
He turned. Looked deep into her eyes. ‘Great. I’ll borrow my mum’s car, and pick you up at seven,’ he said as the bus pulled up at their stop. ‘OK?’
As he led the way down the aisle, grabbing her hand, her heart fluttered. Maybe he could share her journey towards a better future. He was going to university, after all. He wanted more too, didn’t he? Maybe everything was going to be OK.
*
Willow and Peter sat on the sofa in the lounge, his arm around his niece, her head against his chest, thumb in her mouth, watching a cartoon.
‘You look cosy,’ Ava said as she shuffled out of her coat and hung it up. She kicked off her boots, raced towards them, and knelt down in front of Willow, who popped her thumb from her mouth.
‘Mummy,’ she squealed, leaning forward and grabbing Ava’s neck, and placing a wet kiss on her mum’s cheek.
‘Have you had a good day, darling girl?’
Willow released Ava, nodded, and leaned back on the sofa, resting her head on Peter’s chest once more.
‘We’ve had great fun, haven’t we Willow?’ Peter said with a smile.
But Willow’s thumb was back in her mouth, her heavy eyes on the TV.
Ava had never felt so torn. Would she be a terrible mother if she went out with Dexter?
‘I’ve been asked out,’ she said to Peter. ‘Tonight. To the cinema.’
‘Do you good,’ Peter said with a smile.
‘Yes, but Willow …’
‘She’ll be fine. And, from what I’ve seen since I got back, it’s all work and no play for you. Go Ava. Go have a good time. I’ll keep a careful watch on this little lady.’
‘She’ll be asleep before I go.’
‘Exactly. She’ll be no problem at all.’
‘Thanks, Peter,’ she said. ‘Thanks so much.’
*
As expected, Willow was in bed asleep by the time Ava was standing at the window watching for Dexter’s car headlights. She was relieved to have an excuse to escape, as Rory and Gail had turned up to show everyone their wedding rings, and her mum was cooing over them, kneeling at their feet as though the couple were royalty.
‘We’re giving each other a piece of jewellery too. I’ve told Rory what I want. I’m getting him a necklace of some sort.’
Rory rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t wear jewellery, Gail. And it might be better if I choose something for you that comes from my heart.’
‘You know what I want, Rory,’ she said. ‘It’s that antique piece I showed you in the shop. Anyway, Mum, we’re going to give them to each other at the same time as the speeches.’
‘So you’re not only giving rings, you’re giving another piece of jewellery. Bit overkill if you ask me,’ Peter said, looking up from a book he was reading.
‘Nobody’s asking you, Peter. It’s my wedding—’
‘Our wedding,’ Rory corrected.
‘Yes, well you know what I mean.’ She slipped off her cardigan. ‘It’s really hot in here, Mum.’
Her mum grabbed Gail’s arm, and glared at a large bruise on her upper arm. ‘Jesus, what have you done there?’
Gail looked shocked for a moment and pulled her cardigan back on. ‘You’re never going to believe it; I tumbled over in the garden. It was icy, and my legs just went from under me. Thankfully Rory was there to pick me up.’
‘And a good thing you’ll be wearing a long-sleeved wedding dress, by the looks of things,’ Peter said.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Jeannette asked.
‘It was nothing Mum, honestly.’
‘Are you getting used to the idea of having your wedding at the village hall?’ Ava said, glancing over her shoulder. She knew it was a cruel thing to say. There was no way Gail wanted her reception at Bostagel village hall.
Gail glared at Ava. ‘Well, it’s not like I’ve got a choice, is it?’
‘I’ve said I’m sorry, Gail,’ said Rory. ‘What do you want, blood?’
‘So, who is this bloke you’re going out with tonight, Ava?’ Peter asked, cutting across Gail and Rory’s simmering argument.
‘Dexter Powell,’ she said.
‘Ooh, I know Dexter,’ Gail said. ‘He goes to my gym.’
‘Well, I work with him,’ Ava said. ‘He’s really nice.’
‘Nice?’ said Rory.
‘Yes, nice,’ she said. ‘We’re going to see The Others in Newquay. We shouldn’t be too late.’
‘It’s a freaky film, Ava,’ Gail said. ‘I thought you hated ghosts.’
‘Well, yes I do, but—’
‘She’ll be snogging in the back row,’ Rory said with a laugh. ‘I see you’re dressed for it.’
‘Rory!’ Gail snapped, giving him a daggering stare.
But before Ava could respond, or consider changing out of her short skirt, a horn tooted outside.
‘I’m off,’ she said, picking up her coat, and escaping from the room at speed.
‘Be good, and if you can’t be good be careful – this time,’ Gail called after her.
Chapter 29
AVA
2001
‘Jesus, that was freaky,’ Ava said, as she and Dexter left the cinema, and made their way towards the foyer, past huge posters of upcoming films. ‘I had my eyes closed through most of it. I can’t believe we ate a whole tub of popcorn.’
He laughed and took hold of her hand. ‘You ate a whole tub of popcorn, you mean.’
‘Sorry. My only excuse is I eat when I’m nervous,’ she said, spotting Gareth Jones in front of them.
He turned as though sensing her there. ‘Ava,’ he called raising his hand, stopping to wait for her to catch up.
As Ava and Dexter caught up, she explained who Gareth was, noticing a familiar figure standing with him.
‘Hello, Ava,’ Gareth said with a smile, as they reached him. ‘How are you?’
‘Good thanks,’ she said.
‘This is my son, Maxen,’ he said, gesturing to him.
‘Your son?’ Ava couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. But then she didn’t know that much about the inspector, not really.
‘Hey!’ Maxen said with a smile ‘We must stop meeting like this.’
‘We really must,’ she said with a small laugh, feeling herself flush. Dexter released her hand, and placed his on the small of her back, as though claiming her.
‘Oh, do you two know each other?’ Gareth said, surprise in his voice.
‘Not really,’ Maxen said, eyeing Dexter. ‘We’ve just seen each other about.’ He paused. ‘Did you enjoy The Others, Ava?’
‘Yes,’ she said, nodding and glancing at Gareth, hoping he would chip in with the conversation, but he said nothing. This was all a bit stiff and awkward, but Maxen was on a roll.
‘Freaky, isn’t it?’ he said.
‘Yes, yes, it really is, yes.’
‘And what a twist,’ he added.
‘Well, yes, what I saw of it from behind my hands.’
Dexter’s face was set hard. ‘We should go,’ he said, and the pressure of his hand on her back, told her the conversation was over.
‘Well, it was good to see you both,’ she said, allowing him to lead her away.
‘I’ll get those courses to you as soon as I can, Ava,’ Gareth called after her, as they pushed through the vacating crowd and out into the street.
A flurry of snowflakes fluttered down, and Ava turned her face towards the night sky, allowing them to dance on her skin.
‘He’s the guy who bought the taps, isn’t he?’ Dexter said, taking her hand and squeezing, as they headed down the street, past shops decked in Christmas decorations. She liked Dexter, but he suddenly seemed a bit possessive. ‘How do you know him, Ava?’
‘Maxen? I’ve seen him about, that’s all.’ Why was he making her feel guilty? ‘I think they must live in the village. I hadn’t realised he was Gareth Jones’ son though. I know Gareth better. He’s a police inspector. In fact, he saved me from Justin the oth
er night.’
‘Justin?’ Dexter stared down at her intently, his eyes dark. She hadn’t meant to say his name. She didn’t want him to know about Justin – not yet anyway.
‘Ah, well … there’s so much you don’t know about me,’ she said, with a small laugh. ‘It’s such early days.’
‘I’d like to know more.’ His face brightened and his tone softened. ‘Fancy a drink? There’s a bar round the corner.’
She glanced at her watch. ‘I should get back.’
‘Oh go on, one can’t hurt.’
‘Well OK then, just one – maybe it will calm my nerves after that freaky film. You do know I won’t sleep tonight.’
‘Not even with me?’ he said, but before she could respond, he added, ‘Maybe we should have seen Serendipity.’
‘Now that’s more my kind of film. I love John Cusack.’
‘Next time?’
There’ll be a next time?
*
The bar heaved with youngsters, the atmosphere loud and smoky. ‘Mambo Number 5’ played through speakers.
‘Grab that table,’ Dexter said, pointing, and Ava turned to see two women putting on their coats. ‘What will you have?’
‘White wine, please,’ she said. He headed to the bar, and she raced towards the table, almost knocking one of the women over. ‘Sorry.’
‘Bet you wouldn’t jump in my grave so quickly,’ the woman said, giving her a foul look as they walked away.
She felt a pang of anxiety. Was she so fragile, so vulnerable, that random strangers could upset her? She sat down, pushed the used glasses away from her, and took a deep breath. She was happy here – out with Dexter, despite the fact the film would give her nightmares. Yes, she thought, as she stared at him pushing through the throng towards the bar, she liked him. She liked him a lot.
Her eyes drifted around the bar. She’d been here before with Justin, before she could legally drink in a pub. It was one of his favourite places, and a veil of anxiety attempted to lower her mood once more. He could be here somewhere in the crowd. But even if he was, he wouldn’t notice her tucked away in the corner, would he?
‘Here you go,’ Dexter said, plonking a glass of wine down in front of her. He sat down with a pint of lager. ‘Music’s not bad,’ he said. It had changed to a Beautiful South track.
Traces of Her Page 13