by Agatha Frost
“Erm.” His tongue rolled the ring. “Yeah, sure. Count me in.”
“You don’t have to.” Julia’s eyes darted to a flash of gold against a rectangle of burgundy leather bouncing in his palm. “Your passport. You can’t be losing that.”
Barker retreated to the sitting room to join Dot and Percy.
“Turned my flat upside down,” he said with a wobbly laugh as he scratched at his inked neck. “Never know when you’re going to need it.”
“Quite soon, I’d imagine. Jessie told me about travelling.”
“Oh, that’s a relief.” He fluttered his lips with a breath and cracked a smile. “Yeah, I’ve been worrying about this conversation. I wanted to tell you myself, but Jessie made me swear not to bring it up. She kept saying she was waiting for the right time, so I guess that happened?”
Julia smiled stiffly and nodded, not wanting to give away exactly what Jessie had revealed; it seemed the right time to tell Alfie hadn’t come up yet. It wasn’t her place to say anything. She’d liked Alfie even before she’d known of his connection to Jessie.
“I thought you were settled here?” she asked, walking him to the door. “You have your building business, and it’s not long since you moved into Percy’s old flat on Mulberry Lane. He said you gave the whole place a full renovation.”
“I did,” he said with a nod, tucking his passport away in a pocket of his leather jacket before scooping up his helmet. “I really enjoyed it too. Never had a good chance to ‘homemake’ as it were, but when I finished, the itchy feet struck again. Now that I have somewhere to come back to, the thought of going away doesn’t feel so . . . endless.”
“You’d come back?”
“Oh, of course,” he said, as though it should have been obvious. “We’re only going for a year. Whistle-stop tour of the world while we can.”
Jessie hadn’t mentioned that detail. In fact, now that Julia thought about it, she hadn’t talked about the actual travelling, only her reasoning behind deciding to stay.
The village.
The family.
The café.
The baby.
“What’s it like?” she asked, tucking her arms against herself as he pulled open the front door. “Seeing the world like that?”
“There’s nothing like it.” A grin spread from ear to ear, lighting up his face. “The places, the people, the food. It can be a lonely life when you’re doing it alone, but I’d recommend everyone give it a go if they can manage it. I’ve saved up enough money with the building gig to pause my life here, but everything will be here waiting for me when I come back.” He crammed his helmet over his dark hair and flipped up the visor. “What time does the shower start?”
“Seven,” she said, pushing forward a smile to match his. “See you there.”
Alfie looped the market on his motorbike before speeding off. His words lingered heavily in the air.
Everything will be here waiting for me when I come back.
Wellington Manor, built by Earl Philip Wellington in the early 1800s, was a goliath of a building, and as grand as homes came in the village. The Wellington family home and the village were so intertwined that most locals simply referred to it as Peridale Manor.
Over the centuries, the manor had passed from one generation to the next, staying exclusively within the Wellington family. Following the recent death of elderly Vincent Wellington and the murder of his childless only son, Charles Wellington, some years before, the manor and the Wellington family fortune fell to Vincent’s only surviving child, Katie.
Unfortunately for Katie, her father’s unwise and secretive investments stretched the old money to its snapping point. The well of Wellington wealth had run dry, and for the first time since the building’s completion all those years ago, a ‘FOR SALE’ sign hung at the end of the sprawling driveway.
What remained of the Wellington family now lived in a much humbler dwelling.
“You’d think someone would have paved this road at some point!” Dot proclaimed from the back seat as the stony road fought against the car’s suspension. “It’s like a Blackpool rollercoaster back here!”
“Enjoy the ride, my dear,” Percy replied. “At our age, it’s as close to the real thing as we’re going to get.”
Barker’s headlights illuminated the thatched roof of the small cottage her father and Katie shared at the bottom of the dead-end road. Walled in by unkempt bushes and nestled on the edge of a picturesque wood, the unassuming cottage was easy to miss.
“What possessed Katie to think we could all fit?” Dot said as Barker parked behind the long row of cars on the side of the tight lane. “It’s no bigger than a doll’s house. I tell you, her mind is still at the manor.”
“Play nice,” Julia said through the rear-view mirror as she unclipped her seatbelt. “This is Katie’s first time hosting here. She’s had a tough year.”
“She could have thrown the doors of the manor open one last time,” Dot said, almost under her breath. “It’s not like people are rushing to shell out what they’re asking for it.”
Julia was glad Katie hadn’t.
On the same night Julia had discovered she was pregnant, she’d also stared down the barrels of a burglar’s shotgun while babysitting her brother at the old manor. Julia’s feelings about the place were mixed to say the least.
“Come in, come in,” announced Julia’s father, Brian, after opening the short front door. “You’re just in time. Everyone else is already here.”
Small as the cottage was, the door opened directly into the front room so Julia could see who ‘everyone’ was. Sue, Katie, and Jessie were there, along with two friends she’d known since her school days, Roxy and Leah. She let out a relieved breath as her father collected her coat. The way Sue had been going on, she’d expected half the village to show up, so she was glad they’d kept it to her close circle.
“Crikey, Julia,” Roxy exclaimed. “Are you carrying a whole litter? I only saw you a fortnight ago, and you’ve doubled in size!”
“Bloody hell, Rox.” Leah nudged Roxy’s shoulder. “Ignore her, Julia. You’re glowing.”
Julia laughed, glad to see her friends again. Despite Leah living in the cottage across from hers and Roxy working in St. Peter’s Primary School around the corner from the café, she hadn’t seen them as much lately. They all led busy lives, and when they did have time to meet up, it was usually for a glass of wine at The Plough. The thought of sitting in a pub hadn’t appealed to Julia lately.
“Barker, the rest of the men are in the back room,” said Brian as he reached into his back pocket for a white envelope. “And before you say anything, Sue, I’ll be joining them in a second. I just wanted to show Julia something I found when I was unpacking the last of the boxes the other week.”
Brian handed over the envelope, and Julia pulled out a small stack of glossy photographs. Pearl, her mother, beamed at her through the years, as heavily pregnant as Julia was now.
“She was pregnant with you there,” he said.
It took all of Julia’s energy not to cry. As many years as it had been since her mother’s death, she’d never forgotten that smile, though she’d been trying not to think of her mother so much lately. Knowing she wasn’t there to be part of another milestone in her life – possibly her most significant yet – hurt too much.
“Thank you,” Julia said, holding them close. “Can I keep these?”
“Already made copies,” he said, patting her cheek. “You look just like her, you know. Now more than ever.”
By his rapid blinking, Brian was fighting back tears of his own. As much as Julia loved Katie, she’d never doubted that if cancer hadn’t taken her mother, her parents would still be together, two years away from their golden wedding anniversary.
“Right, lads!” Brian clapped his hands together and cleared his throat. “There’s beer in the fridge or whisky if you fancy a stronger tipple.”
Barker and Percy followed Brian through to the kitc
hen, closing the door behind them. Taking the pictures with her, Julia sank into one of the mismatching armchairs surrounding a coffee table piled high with sweet treats. Despite the unsettling tiny plastic babies topping the cakes, everything looked delicious.
“Did you make all this?” Julia asked Katie.
“Is it too much?”
“No,” she said quickly. “It all looks lovely.”
“I tried my best.” She bit her plump lip before offering Julia a slice of chocolate cake. “Jessie’s been teaching me all your recipes for the café. I hope it’s close.”
“Let’s have a look at the pictures.” Roxy held out her hand. “I remember your mum like she was here yesterday.”
“Yeah, me too,” Leah said, taking one of the pictures before passing the rest down to Roxy. “You really do look alike. Funny how that happens, isn’t it? I suppose we all become our mothers in the end.”
Julia took a bite of the cake and was pleasantly surprised. It was rich, velvety, and, most importantly for a chocolate cake, moist.
“You made this on your own?”
“Why?” Katie deflated in her chair. “Is it that bad?”
“Not at all. It’s actually delicious. Near perfect, I’d say.”
“Oh.” Katie’s face lit up. “Honestly?”
“You’ve had a good teacher.”
Julia turned to direct her statement to Jessie, but she wasn’t at the end of the sofa where she’d been when Julia sat down.
“Does anyone know where Jessie went?” Julia asked, levering herself upright using the armrests.
“Probably to the bathroom.” Sue forced Julia back down before pulling a plastic bag from under the table. “Right, ladies! Do we want to play ‘pin the nose on the baby’ or ‘guess the celebrity mother based on their child’s weird name’?”
10
BARKER
“P enny for your thoughts?” Brian handed Barker a neat whisky. “You look like you’re in a world of your own.”
“I was just admiring your apple orchard,” he lied, turning away from the darkness of the kitchen window and pushing Lynn and the letters to the back of his mind. “Nice little place you’ve got here.”
“It’ll do . . . for now.” He tapped his nose. “Katie’s happy with it, so I’m happy with it. Never thought she’d adjust so well to life away from that place, but it seems to be doing her some good.” Brian sipped his whisky and looked around the tiny kitchen and dining room, his thick, blown-back grey hair almost touching one of the low-hanging beams. “Can’t see us being here too long. We’re only renting, and I’ve got big plans.”
Brian talked about his ‘big plans’ whenever they were in similar situations at family functions. What those plans were, he never revealed – Barker wasn’t sure Brian knew, entirely.
“If you’re worrying about fatherhood, don’t,” he whispered, clenching Barker’s shoulder firmly as he nodded across the room. “Don’t let Super Dad over there make you nervous. He had no clue what he was doing when the twins first came.”
At the table pushed up against the wall, Sue’s husband Neil sipped tea instead of whisky and kept his daughters, Pearl and Dottie, perfectly entertained with colouring books and crayons. Brian’s son, Vinnie, fresh from celebrating his second birthday, bounced up and down on Percy’s knee, marvelling as the magician made coins disappear and reappear from behind his ear.
“I have been worrying,” Barker said, “but I know if I’m there and trying, that’s half the battle.”
Brian tossed back his whisky and sucked his teeth as Barker heard the echo of his words. Julia had talked at length about her father’s absence in the years following her mother’s death. Their relationship had only reached a harmonious place over the last handful of years, and Vinnie’s birth had squashed any lingering animosity.
Barker hadn’t meant anything by it.
In the back of his mind, perhaps he’d been talking about his own father – a man whose name, even at forty-one, he still didn’t know. His late mother had kept his father’s identity secret right up to her deathbed, and he’d loved her too much to force the information out of her. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. He’d tried to find the mystery man a handful of times throughout his life, but without an idea where to start looking, he hadn’t made much progress. Having his mother’s maiden name and not sharing any of his four brothers’ fathers left his searches dead on arrival.
“I’ll go see if the ladies need a top-up,” Brian said, splashing more whisky into Barker’s tumbler after a too-long silence.
Barker nodded, unwilling to say any more than he already had. It was apparent what Brian thought, but it would only be more awkward if Barker acknowledged it. Despite his intent, the way Brian had taken it wasn’t strictly based on fiction. He was here now, and that counted for something.
Certain the whisky was one of the cheap and cheerful bargain bottles bought from the post office, Barker tossed it into the sink to save his throat. After grabbing a bottle of chilled beer from the fridge, a pair of familiar black Doc Martens poking out beside it caught his eye.
“I haven’t seen these in a while,” he said, giving one a kick.
Jessie tucked them under the chair she was on between the fridge and pantry cupboard. She sipped her beer, and though she was past the legal age to drink by well over a year, the sight still surprised him a little each time.
“My trainers split open during my shift today,” she said with a shrug. “I just grabbed them. They’re comfy.”
“Remember when they were all you’d wear?” he said, leaning against the fridge. “With that big black hoodie and those baggy trousers.”
Jessie cringed, a reminder that she wasn’t completely different from the sixteen-year-old girl he’d met not too long ago. And yet she was different in so many ways, and not just because of the beer bottle. As stubborn as she could still be, it was easier to see the woman than the girl now.
“Why aren’t you in there?” he asked.
“Not really in the mood,” she said. “They started talking about their mothers, and I couldn’t be bothered with it. Always feel like I’m on the outside looking in when that happens.”
“You’re not.”
“I am,” she said with another shrug. “I don’t even know what my actual mum looks like.”
“Don’t you have a picture?” he asked, pulling up a chair from the dining table to sit across from her. “Doesn’t Alfie?”
She shook her head.
Julia had said something about their records being destroyed in a fire after they were separated and put into different care system branches. Still, he couldn’t believe Jessie had gone her whole life not knowing what her parents looked like. At least he could conjure up an image of his mother in the absence of his father.
“Leave it with me,” he said quietly. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“You won’t find any.” Jessie drained her beer and wiped her mouth. “I’ve looked. Alfie’s looked. It’s not like social media was a thing back then, and they had no other family apart from us. They might as well never have existed.”
“I can at least try. What were their names?”
Jessie hesitated but said, “Olivia and Brett.”
There was a knock at the front door and Alfie’s voice followed.
“What’s he doing here?” Jessie shot up, panic spreading across her face.
“I invited him,” he said. “I thought I’d be the only guy here.”
Jessie looked as though she didn’t believe him. He gave her one last smile before backing off. Now would be as good a time as any to talk to Alfie, but Barker kept that to himself. He’d interfered enough, and it was clear Jessie hadn’t finished working through her conflict.
When Alfie entered the kitchen, Barker returned to the sitting room. They all had balloons under their shirts to match Julia’s size and were passing a small plastic ball between them in between their laughter. Julia was laughing the most. It wa
s nice to see after the week they’d had.
He took the creaky staircase to the second floor, where the ceiling was even lower than downstairs. It didn’t have a landing to speak of, only a small, carpeted square with just enough room to turn between the three doors. He went into the one he knew belonged to the bathroom. Clothes spewed out of the washing basket and onto the floor in the corner, kid’s toys and dozens of shampoo and shower gel bottles cluttered the bath, and a collection of brown toilet roll tubes congregated by the bin. Barker was reminded of the chaos the small family had inflicted on his cottage when they’d stayed while saving for a rental deposit.
After using the facilities, he washed his hands and looked around for a can of air freshener. He couldn’t see one in the mess, so he pushed open the tiny window above the toilet. He didn’t mean to look out, but he caught the shadows of two figures stretching into the cluster of apple trees.
“I’m sorry,” Jessie said, sobbing onto Alfie’s shoulder. “I really want to . . . I did, but . . . I can’t leave . . . I just can’t—”
“It’s okay,” Alfie replied as he ran a hand over Jessie’s hair. “I understand.”
Barker ducked away from the window, hating that he’d overheard the intimate moment between the siblings. He left the bathroom and banged straight into Brian as he exited the master bedroom door.
“Was just having a minute to myself,” he quickly explained, pushing forward a bravado-filled smile.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” Barker said, seeing the truth of Brian’s mood in his eyes. “I was talking more about my own father.”
“It’s alright, son.” Brian gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. “I took it the way I did because it’s true. I failed my daughters all those years ago, and I’m failing Katie and Vinnie now.” He looked around the tiny landing, the exposed light bulb dangling between them. “They deserve more than this. I can’t give it to them, and it’s ripping me to shreds.”
“You don’t need a manor. You just need to be here for them – and you are. You’re doing your best.” Barker gave him an encouraging smile. “How’s the shop doing?”