by Paige Toon
‘Come on then.’ I reach inside and grab her lead from the coat hook. ‘We’ll take it easy, I promise. I’m a bit weary myself.’
I pull the door closed and come to a startled stop. Sonny is outside the gate. He looks hesitant as he waits for me.
‘Hello again,’ I say.
‘Hi.’ He smiles awkwardly.
I feel sorry for him. The last thing you want when you’re visiting your therapist is to keep bumping into people you know.
‘I heard you talking,’ he says, and I’m instantly on edge. ‘Thought your uncle must be home.’
‘No, he’s away until the end of September. This is his dog. We’re keeping each other company.’
‘What’s her name?’ He crouches down to pat her.
‘Bertie.’ She’s a helpful little icebreaker. ‘Not on your bike today?’
‘No, I drove and parked at the pub. I’m meeting a mate there.’ He gazes up at me as he speaks. It’s not the steady eye contact of our first meeting, but it’s not complete avoidance either. He seems better. A far cry from his earlier confident self, but certainly improved from the last couple of times I’ve seen him, with more colour in his cheeks and clear blue eyes. He’s had a shave too.
‘Which pub are you going to?’ I ask.
‘The Blue Ball.’
‘Me too!’
‘Oh, right.’ He lets out a self-conscious laugh and straightens up.
‘Feel free to walk on ahead, though,’ I say. ‘We’ll be taking it slowly.’
‘Slowly works for me.’
We set off in silence. I’m racking my brain to think of something to say, but he gets there first.
‘I’m glad I’ve seen you again, actually,’ he confesses. ‘I wanted to apologise for how I behaved when I came to collect my glasses.’
‘No! There’s no need for that.’
‘I’d had some bad news. I was reeling, to be honest.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ I don’t ask what the news was and he doesn’t elaborate, but naturally I’m curious.
‘Have you been at work today?’ he asks.
‘Yep. Back in tomorrow.’
‘You work Saturdays?’
I nod. ‘Sundays and Mondays are our days off.’
‘Not a big one for you tonight, then?’
‘I don’t know,’ I reply dejectedly. ‘It’s been a rough day.’
He casts me a sideways look. ‘How so?’
I hesitate, then decide to cut through the small talk. ‘A child came in for an eye test and I think she might have a brain tumour.’
‘Shit,’ he says. ‘How old?’
‘Not quite three.’
‘Oh God.’ He’s shocked.
Her parents brought her in because one of her pupils was dilated. I took her straight through to Umeko, who ended up calling the hospital to make an emergency referral. The little girl, Ella, was showing classic signs of a rare tumour.
‘Will she be okay?’ Sonny asks.
My eyes prick with tears. ‘I hope so.’
He sighs heavily. ‘That puts my problems into perspective.’
‘We all have our crosses to bear,’ I reply quietly.
We cross the road and continue along the footpath. After a while he shoots my left leg a look.
‘Are you all right?’ he asks. ‘Have you done yourself in?’
‘Old injury,’ I explain.
‘What happened?’
‘Accident. Car crash. Years ago.’ I wave off his concern. ‘Normally I wear shoes that compensate, but figured I didn’t have far to walk tonight.’ It’s why he wouldn’t have noticed me limping at work.
‘You should’ve insisted on meeting at the Green Man,’ he says. ‘Or the Red Lion.’
‘Or the Rupert Brooke,’ I add with a smile, nodding up ahead.
We’re about to pass our third pub.
The Blue Ball Inn is the furthest from me, but it’s the nearest to town, where Archie and Matilda live. It’ll be an easy enough walk home for them, but the cottage is closer still so I’m not complaining. Anyway, the Blue Ball is my favourite.
‘I need to grab something from the car,’ Sonny says as we approach our destination. ‘It’s a bit further on.’ He points down the road. ‘But I’ll no doubt see you inside.’
This is likely true. It’s not a big venue.
‘If not, I’m sure we’ll cross paths again.’
He smiles and lifts his hand in a wave, then carries on his way, leaving Bertie and me to head up the steps alone.
I check my feelings and realise I’m not attracted to him anymore. He’s unquestionably good-looking, but it was his confidence that reeled me in. Without it, he’s more ordinary. It’s a strange relief.
The Blue Ball Inn is on a stretch of road lined with small terraced houses. There are a few tables outside on the patio in the sunshine, but they’re full and there’s no sign of Matilda, so I lead Bertie inside to scope out the joint. My new friend is not in either of the two cosy front rooms so we bypass the bar and head out the back to the beer garden.
‘Hannah!’ Matilda leaps to her feet at the sight of me.
She’s at a table, surrounded by three men, one of whom also gets up.
‘This is Archie,’ she introduces her boyfriend.
He’s tall and broad with delightfully dishevelled dark-blond hair and warm brown eyes.
‘Hey,’ he says, giving me a friendly kiss on my cheek. ‘This is Kev and Warren.’ He nods at his mates.
Kev is tall, blond and in his early thirties, and Warren looks a few years older with short black hair, olive skin and the sort of heavy stubble that laughs in the face of a razor.
‘I’ll go to the bar,’ Archie says, still on his feet. ‘What are you having?’
‘I’ll go!’
‘No, sit down,’ he insists. ‘It’s my round. Guys? Same again?’
We place our orders and Archie disappears inside.
Matilda pats the seat he vacated, moving it out from the table so there’s room for Bertie too. ‘Sit next to me. I’m desperate for female company. These guys have been talking cricket.’ She casts her eyes to the heavens. ‘They play for the local team.’
‘Awesome.’ I smile at them.
‘No, not awesome,’ she states adamantly. ‘That’s my summer wasted sitting on cricket greens.’
Kev and Warren laugh. ‘It’s a hard life,’ Warren says, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out.
‘At least men in cricket whites look quite hot,’ she says. ‘I’m talking about the opposition,’ she adds loudly, making them chuckle again.
‘Have you been here long?’ I ask as Kev and Warren chat to each other. Her glass of rosé is almost empty.
‘About twenty minutes. Archie finished work early and was out the door like a shot. I barely had time to touch up my make-up.’
‘You look amazing,’ I say. ‘I love your dress.’ It’s knee-length, black and covered in tiny violet flowers.
She leans in conspiratorially. ‘You look amazing! I love your hair. I haven’t seen it down before.’ She reaches out and fingers one of my plaits. ‘I had no idea you were a super-cool hippie chick.’
I laugh out loud. ‘I’ll take that description, thank you very much. I’m glad to be out of that awful uniform.’
‘Yours is better than mine,’ she says good-naturedly. ‘Navy beats royal blue. Not that I’m complaining. My job is a darn sight more fun than it used to be.’
Matilda was a bookkeeper, but a few years ago she went back to university to retrain as a pharmacist. She’s currently doing a working gap year.
‘Why did you decide to become a pharmacist?’ I ask.
‘I wanted to be a doctor when I was younger, but went off the idea as a teenager. Anyway, I didn’t quite get the grades. After my dad passed away, Archie encouraged me to go back to university. I was always good at science and maths, and pharmacy seemed like a valid option. My dad left me his house so I could afford to take
the time off work to study.’
‘Wow,’ I say. ‘Although I’m sorry about your dad.’
‘Thanks.’ The corners of her lips turn down. ‘He would have liked that something positive came out of me losing him. I met Archie, for a start.’
‘How did you meet?’
She smiles. ‘I was living in London, but I’d come up to Cambridge for the weekend. I needed to clear out Dad’s house.’ Her smile fades a little. ‘I was on my own because my parents split up years ago and I’m an only child. I decided to take a break to go punting as it was something Dad and I always used to do together and it was his birthday. Archie was on the river with his sister and some friends, and he got his pole stuck in the mud. I stepped in to help him out. He was bloody awful at punting. He’s still bloody awful at punting!’ She raises her voice, grinning past me at her boyfriend returning, I presume.
I smile and turn to see Archie carrying a pint of beer, a half-pint of what I’m presuming is my cider and Matilda’s glass of rosé.
‘I don’t need to know how to punt when you do it so well.’ He grins as he distributes our drinks and then jerks his head over his shoulder. ‘Sonny arrived in time to help me at the bar.’
I don’t believe it. Yet there he is. Again. Appearing from behind Archie with three pints of beer in his hands.
He clocks me instantly.
‘Hi!’ he exclaims, his eyebrows jumping up.
‘Hi,’ I reply with equal surprise.
‘You know these guys?’ he asks as he places their drinks on the table.
‘No, I just thought I’d sit down at their table and drink their alcohol.’
He wrinkles his nose at me. I laugh as he kisses Matilda hello and greets Kev and Warren.
Matilda leans towards me and whispers in my ear: ‘How do you know Sonny?’
‘He came in for an eye test last month,’ I whisper back.
‘Aah. So you and he haven’t . . .’
‘What? No!’
Her look of relief doesn’t escape my notice.
Sonny drags a couple of chairs over from the next table and sits down beside me, leaning down to give Bertie a rigorous pat.
‘You can’t seem to get rid of me,’ he murmurs, flashing me a crooked smile.
‘Nor you me.’
He picks up his drink. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’ We chink glasses and then feel compelled to do the same with everyone else around the table.
‘So why did you choose optometry?’ Matilda asks, continuing with the theme of our earlier conversation as Sonny and Archie strike up a conversation between themselves. ‘Hang on, it’s not optometry, is it?’
‘No, I’m a dispensing optician, which is a step down from optometrist and a step up from optical assistant. I didn’t get the grades either. I might go back to studying one day, but right now I’m content doing what I’m doing.’
‘And what inspired this career choice?’ she asks in a mock reporter-style voice.
Apart from the fact that Charles and June practically railroaded me into a respectable career path?
‘Um . . . It was something that happened to a friend of mine, actually.’
Her face falls at the change in my tone. ‘What?’
‘One of my best friends from school had a brain tumour. She’s okay now, but it was caught during an eye test. It saved her life.’
‘Jeez.’
Sonny pauses in what he was saying, his ear cocked towards us. He’d be right in thinking that today brought back some bad memories.
‘I spent a lot of time with her at the hospital that year, keeping her company.’
‘When was this?’ Matilda asks.
‘We were doing our GCSEs.’
‘That must’ve impacted on your exam results,’ she says with a frown.
‘I don’t like attributing my grades to that,’ I admit.
‘I know what you mean. I feel the same about my parents’ divorce. It got so messy around the time I was doing my GCSEs, but I hate allocating blame. Anyway, I’m doing okay. It all worked out well in the end.’
‘What are you two talking about?’ Archie interrupts, intrigued.
As Matilda fills him in, Bertie gets to her feet and squeezes in between Sonny’s legs.
‘Sorry,’ I apologise, reaching for her collar and trying to tug her away.
I get a whiff of his aftershave and feel a little dizzy. He still smells attractive.
‘How are the kids?’ Matilda asks.
‘They’re good,’ Sonny replies.
‘Have you persuaded Rochelle to get one yet?’ Archie asks, nodding at Bertie.
‘She’s having none of it,’ Sonny replies.
Hang on, what? He’s married with kids?
‘You have children?’ I ask.
‘Two daughters. Imogen and Natalie. Imogen would settle for a cat, but for Natalie, nothing less than a dog will do. She wants to be a vet when she’s older.’
‘I wanted to be a vet when I was that age too,’ Matilda chips in nostalgically. ‘I think all nine-year-olds do.’
‘I thought you wanted to be a doctor?’ Archie asks her with a frown.
‘Doctor, vet, I would have been satisfied with either.’
Sonny has a nine-year-old? He’s only thirty-two.
‘How is Rochelle?’ Archie asks.
‘She’s all right,’ Sonny replies noncommittally.
‘Is this your wife?’ Curiosity has got the better of me.
Archie snorts and Sonny raises his eyebrows at him.
‘Really?’ Sonny asks his mate in a dry, pointed voice.
‘Sorry,’ Archie mutters, trying to suppress a smirk and failing. ‘But “wife” would imply marriage and that’s too much of a leap for my imagination.’
Sonny rolls his eyes and turns back to me. ‘We’re not together,’ he says.
I have no idea what that interaction was about.
‘How did you guys all meet?’ I change the subject.
‘University,’ Archie replies, indicating Sonny and himself. ‘We went to Anglia Ruskin, here in Cambridge. Warren’s on the cricket team and Kev and I work together.’
‘What do you do?’ I ask Archie. Matilda hasn’t told me.
‘I’m a graphic designer.’ He nods at Sonny. ‘We studied graphic design together, but Sonny ended up becoming a photographer. We actually spent a semester in the Netherlands as part of our course. Sonny liked it so much he decided to move there after we graduated.’ He gives his friend a cheeky grin.
‘How long are you in the UK for?’ Matilda asks Sonny.
He shrugs. ‘I’m not sure yet. Maybe for the summer.’
‘Just taking a break?’
He shrugs again, and he seems uncomfortable. ‘Yeah. And I wanted to spend some time with the girls.’
‘We’ll have to drag you onto the team,’ Warren interjects, and as the conversation returns to cricket, my mind wanders.
His children live here and he lives in Amsterdam? How does that work?
Does anyone else around the table know that he’s seeing a counsellor?
And if so, do they know why?
I bite my tongue to stop myself from asking any more too-personal questions.
Chapter 5
I bump into Sonny again on Monday as I’m heading out with Bertie for an afternoon walk. As before, he’s just finished up at Evelyn’s.
‘Hey,’ he says warmly, not in the slightest bit put out to see me. ‘Talking to yourself again?’
‘What? Oh, er . . .’ I laugh awkwardly and look over my shoulder at the cottage, realising he overheard us leaving the house again.
‘At least you’re in the right place for madness.’ He opens the garden gate to allow us to pass through.
‘Evelyn’s a counsellor, not a psychiatrist,’ I correct him, keeping my tone light.
‘You know her?’
‘She took over from my uncle. That was his practice once.’
‘Where is your uncle?’ he as
ks.
‘Currently somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. He’s on a round-the-world cruise.’
Charles called me yesterday from the Falkland Islands and he was very perky. He’s been emailing with updates, but it was heartwarming to hear his voice. He’s made a whole host of friends and is now on his way to South America.
‘Where are you off to?’ Sonny asks.
‘We’re going for a walk down by the river.’
‘Mind if I join you? I’ve got some time to kill.’
‘Sure,’ I reply, pleased, if a little surprised.
But then, we did get on well on Friday night. Despite the initial weirdness of the situation, it was a really fun evening with lots of banter being batted around. It was good to see how relaxed Sonny was with his friends. Whatever’s going on with him, I’m glad he has decent people around him.
‘Have you heard anything more about that little girl?’ he asks as we walk side by side on the narrow pavement.
I’m touched he thought to ask after her. ‘Yes, Umeko called this morning to fill me in. Scans showed that it was a tumour, which is what she suspected. It’s a rare one – only about one in twenty million are affected. The doctor said she would have died if they’d left it another one or two weeks.’
‘Jesus.’
‘By the time she went in for surgery yesterday, she’d lost all vision in her left eye. They were going to try to save her right eye. We don’t know yet if they were successful.’
He shakes his head. ‘Poor thing.’
‘I know.’
‘Thankfully you guys spotted it.’
‘Thankfully her parents brought her in. I hope your kids go for regular eye tests.’
‘I’m not sure,’ he reluctantly admits. ‘They don’t have anything wrong with their eyesight, as far as I know.’
‘It’s not only about that.’ I’m unable to stop myself from dishing out a small lecture. ‘They should be tested every year or two anyway, once they’re at school. There’s more to eye tests than needing glasses. The optometrist might pick up on other problems. And it’s free for children, so there’s no reason not to take them.’
‘I’ll speak to Rochelle,’ he assures me.
We pass St Andrew and St Mary, Grantchester’s beautiful centuries-old church. Charles and June used to regularly attend services there, and I’d allow myself to be dragged along at Christmas and Easter. Now the most I see of the inside of the church is when it appears on ITV’s Grantchester. I’m about to ask Sonny if he’s watched the 1950s-set detective drama series, but he speaks first.