‘Then what are you waiting for?’
18
By the time Anna-Lisa had left for home, Mim was feeling much brighter. Between the two of them, they’d managed to put her latest worries into perspective.
It was getting late, and Mim took Herbert for a quick walk around the village, the pair of them returning soaked through thanks to the mist that had started to fall as a heavy mizzle. ‘Ughh, Herbs, you smell like soggy cabbage again.’ She found his towel and went to dry him, which wasn’t easy when he saw it as a game. He tugged at the towel and wriggled around on the floor, his legs kicking out all over the place. ‘Herbert, sit!’ She tried injecting a firm tone into her voice, but he ignored her; he was clearly having way too much fun. Eventually, Mim managed to get the towel off him and he jumped to his feet, happiness shining in his eyes. It triggered a surge of affection through her. ‘You do realise you’re the naughtiest boy in North Yorkshire, don’t you?’ She laughed as he grabbed the towel between his teeth, tripping over it as he did a lap of the kitchen. ‘Come here, you little rascal.’ She chased after him and snatched the towel back, giving him one last vigorous rub down before he shot off again, indulging in a final roll around on the mat by the door.
‘I’m exhausted after all that mischief!’ In truth, it felt good to have her headspace occupied by Herbert and his escapades, instead of the worries that had begun to fill it up recently. Not for the first time was she glad he was in her life, especially at this time of night, when her thoughts had a habit of wandering off to the dark corners of her mind.
Herbert finished his fun, made his way over to his bed and flopped down in it. He glanced across at her and yawned.
‘Yep, you’re right, Herbs, it’s that time of night. I think I’ll make one of those special sleep-inducing cups of tea and go and have a soak in the bath, see if the combination works and I actually get a good night’s sleep for once.’ Mim had picked up some teabags from the village shop that were full of fragrant herbs whose powers, the blurb on the box claimed, would help lull you to a “soothing and restful sleep”. She’d liked the sound of that and had popped them into her basket. Tonight would be the first time she’d tried them, and her expectations were high.
Mim slipped into the bubbles of the bath, propping her feet up by the taps at the other end. She released a sigh as she savoured the warmth of the water lapping over her body, her anxiety slowly ebbing away. It felt delicious. Over the last week her body had developed some unwelcome aches and pains, mostly across her shoulders and in her neck. She was sure stress was responsible, creating tension in her muscles; she’d experienced the same thing when she’d broken up with Rick. It never ceased to surprise her how stress manifested itself in her body – not least the patch of psoriasis on her stomach which had increased in size, and had been joined by a new outbreak on the inside of her elbows. She ran her finger over the raised scaly patch; she’d keep an eye on it, make sure it didn’t get out of hand. Much as she was reluctant to order a repeat prescription of the usual smelly cream from the doctor, she had to concede, it did the trick, and pretty quickly at that.
Closing her eyes, she lay back and drew in a slow, deep lungful of the soothing fragrance that lingered in the bathroom; it was courtesy of some expensive-looking bubble bath of Josie’s that Mim wouldn’t normally dare touch, but after the day she’d had she figured her sister wouldn’t mind, just this once.
After what had happened with the pen, Mim wasn’t expecting her body and mind to submit to relaxation so easily but, like Anna-Lisa had explained, if you put things into perspective, they were nowhere near as bad as they seemed. As far as Honey’s behaviour was concerned, they were merely dealing with childish games, no more, no less. And they were nothing that couldn’t be sorted.
As Mim continued her slow, rhythmic deep breathing, she felt a wave of relaxation spread from her shoulders, all the way down her body. She allowed herself to succumb to it, the sensation of sleep slowly wrapping itself around her. Oh, bliss! It was only when the sound of her own snort pulled her back to consciousness that she reluctantly heaved herself up and climbed out of the bath. She was hopeful this was a sign she’d sleep well tonight.
But as soon as Mim climbed into bed and rested her head on the pillow the feelings of unease returned, slowly creeping out from the shadows and stealing into her mind, their strength growing with every passing minute. In no time, her heart rate had accelerated and her pulse was thrumming in her ears.
‘Ughh! Not this again.’ She rubbed her eyes with the balls of her hands. She’d been sleeping better since Caspar had started showing her attention, images of him dominating her bedtime thoughts, scenarios of their future together playing out until she drifted off to sleep, not giving her usual worries the time of day. Yes, she’d had a good stretch by her standards, and had felt better for it, but after today’s happenings, it would appear that her insomnia had returned with a vengeance. Once again, the tight feeling in her chest was making itself known. She turned onto her side, dragged the duvet up close to her chin and closed her eyes. Her body felt exhausted, surely her mind would feel that way soon.
Another hour dragged by with sleep still eluding her. Wearily, Mim heaved herself up, slid her feet into her slippers and, grabbing her dressing gown, she padded downstairs.
As she grated nutmeg over the surface of her drink, Mim was pleasantly surprised to find the comforting, spicy aroma triggered a memory of Grandma Joyce, of the times they’d sat together in the neat kitchen of Primrose Cottage when Mim hadn’t been able to sleep, their whispered conversations punctuated by the soporific ticking of the clock on the wall.
A wave of happiness enveloped her as distant images swept through her mind, offering precious glimpses of happy times spent at her grandparents’ house; the handmade quilt that had covered her bed, its pretty hexagons of little ditsy flowers in shades of pink, green and primrose yellow all painstakingly sewn together by the neat, uniform stitches of her great-grandmother. The memory made Mim smile. She remembered it being a little worn in places, slightly faded in others, but that hadn’t detracted from its beauty; she’d loved it and the comfort it had brought as she snuggled beneath it.
More images floated into her mind’s eye, sylph-like gossamer wisps, tantalising snatches of the pale pink Laura Ashley wallpaper, decorated with cheerful sprigs of flowers that covered the walls of the room, the small Georgian windows trimmed with matching curtains. There was a fleeting glimpse of fingers of sunshine poking through the gaps on bright, spring mornings, their warmth caressing her face. Whenever Mim thought of the time she’d spent with her grandparents at their homely little cottage, it was always to the backdrop of a gloriously sunny day.
Mim popped the nutmeg back in its jar, smiling as she recalled the frothy mugs of warmed milk Grandma Joyce used to make for her and how they’d sit by the old range in the spotless kitchen, crocheted blankets wrapped around their shoulders, while Grandma Joyce told her stories of when she’d been a young girl in that very village, and of how she’d always known she was going to marry Grandad. ‘I didn’t let on to him, mind; I made him chase me. And he did just that, bless him; never gave up even when I made it hard work for him.’ Fond tales that had soothed Mim, filling her with a sense of contentment, and coaxed her desire for sleep out of its hiding place.
Mim and Josie had been regular residents at her grandparents’ two-up-two-down home when they were children, sleeping in what had been their mother’s childhood bedroom. Jeanette had developed a nasty habit of upping and leaving the girls, unceremoniously dumping them with their grandparents while she pursued her latest love interest, without a backwards glance nor a hint of remorse. Mim remembered it as a confusing and unhappy time, and one that had become such a regular occurrence that Grandad had insisted they put an extra bed in the room. He’d even made a sign for the door with their names painted on it in pink swirly writing. This small gesture had a big impact on Mim. Somehow, labelling it as theirs had an inexorably galv
anising effect on her; she could think of it as her home. Where she belonged.
Cradling the mug in her hands, Mim walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. She didn’t like to think of how things would have turned out without the care and guidance of her grandparents. She sighed; how she wished they were here now, with their wise words and uncomplicated view of the world. Their loss a couple of years ago had hit her hard. Grandma Joyce was the first to go, the cruel spectre of dementia taking hold and ending her days at the age of seventy-two. Mim’s grandfather had been beside himself with grief, there’d been no consoling him. But what could you say to a man who’d had his soulmate and wife of over fifty years snatched away? After the funeral he’d floundered, looking pitifully lost and helpless, all traces of the capable man he’d previously been obliterated by grief. It had been distressing to see, and his expression still haunted Mim.
Adding to her heartbreak, he followed his beloved wife just three months later. It had been a bitter blow for his granddaughters, but where Josie had Russ to offer support and keep her grounded, Mim had no one, and had sunk her grief by throwing herself into bad relationship after bad relationship. Without realising, she was following the same sorry path as her mother, the one saving grace being there were no children involved to get hurt.
Herbert padded over to where Mim was sitting and with a noisy “harrumph” he flopped down at her feet. She looked down at him, envious of his contented life and his lack of worries.
19
Mim lay under the warmth of her duvet for a few minutes after the alarm had gone off, her mind a melting pot of worries – the first one being Honey and the dreaded pen. Anxiety bloomed in her chest. She tried to quash it, reminding herself that Anna-Lisa would secretly deliver the offending item back to its owner before anyone else got to work. Mim hoped it would go to plan; the worry that her friend risked getting caught with their boss’s treasured pen gnawed at her and she knew she wouldn’t be able to settle properly until it was back in Catherine’s room, and Anna was safe in hers. Mim was thankful she had a friend like Anna-Lisa; she didn’t know what she’d do without her. Aidey, too.
She pulled the duvet up close around her chin; it was too dark and too cold outside to get up, and it was too snuggly and warm in her bed, plus she felt overwhelmingly tired. The prospect of facing the day and all it entailed just wasn’t appealing, so Mim gave in to temptation and closed her eyes for a moment. But she knew she was too comfortable, and that was risky, so she forced her heavy eyes open until the danger of falling back to sleep became too great and she reluctantly heaved herself out of bed. Why did she find it so easy to fall asleep first thing in the morning, but nigh on impossible when she went to bed at night? It felt desperately unfair. She couldn’t wait for the weekend and the lack of need for a hideous, piercing alarm; the only alarm she needed then was Herbert, and he wasn’t keen on early mornings either.
Her thoughts turned to Caspar and how much she was looking forward to seeing him again. She savoured every minute of the time they shared, just the two of them, in the intimate environment of his car. The anticipation of the feel of his lips pressing against hers was building and sent a delicious thrill through her, making her wiggle her toes.
But later, as she watched for him from the living room window, it didn’t stop her from harbouring a little niggle about having a lift to and from work with him, much as she relished it. After Honey’s remarks during the grilling she’d given her the previous day, she’d felt a sense of guilt bloom. That girl was too pushy for her own good but, much as Mim hated to admit it, she did have a point; the bulk of the roadworks had gone, with just a handful of stragglers causing minimal disruption on the periphery of the city; they shouldn’t really make her late for work now. Caspar had already confessed to her that he was going out of his way by picking her up and dropping her off. Maybe she should mention that she could go back to getting the bus; see what he had to say about it.
Having said that, it was a cold, miserable morning and the cottages of Skeltwick were shrouded in a heavy mist which was falling as a cold, soaking mizzle. Mim hated this type of weather, especially since it had a nasty habit of making her already unruly hair go frizzy; she’d got drenched when she’d dropped Herbert off at Carly’s earlier and that was no distance. The thought of travelling to work in Caspar’s fancy car had made her secretly pleased she didn’t have to trek to the bus stop at the other end of the village where there was no shelter. Instead, she had the luxury of waiting for Caspar in the comfort of her home.
She glanced at the time on her phone; it confirmed her suspicions: he was late, which she’d already learnt wasn’t at all like him – apart from when he’d had hot coffee splashed down the front of his crisp, clean shirt on his way to a new job, of course. If she’d known he was going to be this late, she’d have tried to do something with her frazzled frizz-bomb of hair. Was he still coming for her? They hadn’t discussed it, but the fact that he’d picked her up yesterday suggested he was. Was he playing a game with her? She didn’t think so, but she wished he’d text to say he was on his way and for her not to worry, but then again, he didn’t have her number, and she didn’t have his. The anxiety of waiting and not knowing was adding to the horrible nerves she’d woken up with.
For the last ten minutes Mim had been nibbling on a hang nail until it stung, looking out of the window and craning her neck every time she heard the sound of car tyres swooshing along the wet road. The feeling of nausea she’d had when she first got up, rendering her unable to face any breakfast, had started churning around her stomach again. The time waiting for Caspar had given her time to dwell; after the pen incident, she was dreading what today had in store. It didn’t help that he was now over ten minutes late.
Relief swept through her when he finally showed up, swinging his car in front of the cottage and pulling up with a whiplash halt. ‘Thank goodness.’ Wearing the smile his presence always seemed to trigger, she hurried out of the house, ducking out of the rain and into his car as quickly as she could. Her heart thrummed with excitement as soon as the now familiar scent of his expensive cologne and even more expensive new BMW filled her lungs. Her eyes locked with his, sending a bolt of lust right through her. Woah! Talk about sensory overload! Calm your jets, Mim, you’re on your way to work – and running late at that!
‘Sorry I’m late; I had some urgent business to attend to.’ The kiss he pressed to her lips was lazy and loaded with meaning; he followed it up with a heart-melting smile. ‘I’ll still get you to work on time, don’t worry, darling.’
‘It’s okay. I just appreciate that you come out of your way for me.’ Reeling from the effect of his lips on hers, Mim resisted the urge to suggest they both call in sick and spend the day in bed. It would only arouse suspicion which wasn’t what she needed when she was only just hanging onto her job by the skin of her teeth.
Caspar reached across and squeezed her knee, running his hand up her leg. ‘Ah, but you’re worth it, especially with your lovely long legs that drive me crazy.’
She shivered with delight, her smile getting wider as he drove off down the road and out of the village. Am I dreaming? I must be. Either that or the lack of sleep has made me delusional and I’m just imagining all of this. She surreptitiously pinched the underside of her leg between her forefinger and thumb to make sure, making herself jump in the process. ‘Ouch!’ Nope, that was very real; I’m definitely not dreaming.
‘You okay?’
Mim nodded, rubbing where a bruise would no doubt develop. ‘Yes, thanks. Though I was wondering, now that most of the roadworks have finished and the buses shouldn’t be running late anymore – well, hopefully, at least – would it be easier for you if I got the bus? It would save you having to trail over here twice a day when you don’t need to.’
‘Mim, darling, it’s really not a bit of trouble to me, and as I’ve said, it’s a good way of spending a little extra time with you, just the two of us without the prying eyes of work, but if
that’s what you’d prefer…’
‘Oh, not at all … that’s not what I meant … I mean, I love spending time with you, too, but I don’t want you to think I’m being a nuisance or that I’m taking advantage of you. Or what if it makes people gossip? I know you’re keen to keep quiet about us, and I totally get that, but, well, I just thought I’d better mention it.’ Ughh! Why do I always make a clumsy mess of these things?
‘Gossip’s one thing, proof’s another. And as far as work’s concerned, they think I have a good reason to head this way – they think I’m doing something to help with my parents’ company, which I have been doing sometimes, this morning for example – at least that’s what I’ve told them, and they’ve no reason to think otherwise.’
‘Oh, right, when you put it like that, I suppose it does make sense.’
‘Then let’s just leave things as they are, eh?’ His disarming smile made her heart squeeze with happiness.
‘Okay.’
Caspar pressed his foot hard on the accelerator as they made their way onto the A64. The low cloud had lifted but the rain had suddenly become much heavier, firing down from sky like well-aimed arrows before bouncing back up off the road. Visibility was poor and the thudding sound the rain was making on the roof of the car was almost deafening. ‘This isn’t much fun.’ Caspar flicked the windscreen wipers, increasing their speed.
Mim tried to ignore her rising concern that he was driving a little too fast for the conditions. Her heart was in her mouth as he bombed through huge puddles, the car aquaplaning a couple of times. She tried to take her mind off her fear by gazing out of the window, watching the countryside and catching glimpses of the trees bending in the wind, but they were whizzing by in such a blur that it did little to help. She figured striking up a conversation would work better. ‘Come to think of it, Aidey’s given me a lift home loads of times which is right out of his way, and no one’s ever gossiped about that; everyone just sees us as mates.’
Tell That to My Heart Page 16