Christmas at Bay Tree Cottage

A lump rises in my throat as the voice trails off into silence. No wonder the lady is so reserved; she’s not divorced, as I’d assumed, she’s a widow. I wonder when exactly her husband died. Her daughter is a really cute kid, bright and very polite. Christmas can’t be easy for them; it’s a hard time of year when you have to live with regrets. I’ll be with my parents this year for the first time since I left home when I was eighteen. Never thought I’d find myself back there at Christmas, staying in my old bedroom as if being married and becoming a dad is merely a dream.

I wonder if Elana heard her daughter’s plea, too. It’s none of my business, but it’s probably the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. Right, time to get off this roof and drink that tea before I set off home for the day.

Chapter 5

Luke

Keeping the Client Happy

‘Everything alright, my son?’ Dad’s voice booms down the line. Mrs James let me know he’d called in shortly after I left to run my errand.

‘Yep. You know what kids are like; Anita had run out of medicine and was worried Joe was getting an ear infection. He was fine when I saw him, briefly. I wasn’t invited inside.’

Dad makes a sound like ‘harrumph’.

‘Just do what you can, when you can, Luke. The little dude might not be aware of it yet, but he’s lucky to have a dad who cares so much.’

It matters to me that my dad thinks that, although I’ve failed to give Joe the stable family unit he deserves. Maybe if I’d made the effort to take Anita out more, rather than assuming she was happy enough with a life that centred around just the three of us, we’d have stayed together. I thought that was what we both wanted, and I sure got that wrong!

‘Thanks. Is Ma there?’

I hear him call out, ‘Sally, it’s your favourite son on the phone.’

A few seconds later Mum picks up the receiver.

‘Only because he’s my only son,’ she comments, laughing. ‘How are you, Luke – and Joe?’

‘I’m fine, really. I just wanted you to know that there’s no panic. Just Anita doing the usual; maybe Joe has been a little off-colour, but she wanted to remind me that she’s the one who takes the brunt. It was just a trip to the chemist, that’s all. I knew you’d be worried. He was running around in the background and seemed fine.’

‘She didn’t let you talk to him, then?’

The disappointment in her voice is a killer. She simply can’t understand Anita’s actions and she hates to think of the hurt it’s causing me.

‘I’ll have him on Saturday, as usual. He was fine, that’s all that matters.’

‘Yes, that’s the main thing. And you are okay?’

‘Yes, Ma. I’m doing fine and loving my work.’

I can almost see the smile on her face.

‘You’re a good son and one day you’ll find someone very special.’

If only Anita had thought I was a good husband, then life would be sweet. Instead, it’s a mess and I feel like a failure. I’ve given my parents a grandchild, but one they can only see briefly every Saturday afternoon.

***

The replacement slates for Bay Tree Cottage don’t arrive until late morning. Fortunately, it’s a dry, bright day and even the sun is putting in an appearance. I can only hope this weather continues into next week, as I can’t start work on the repointing if there’s any sign of a frost. It’s a job I’d normally look to postpone until early spring, but like Hillside View, it’s a job that has to be done sooner rather than later. One really strong gust of wind could do a lot of damage and the debris falling from a roof could potentially kill someone.

The bonus of working up here is that it’s quiet for the most part. The drone of traffic is hardly noticeable in the distance, and the odd car driving down the hill is merely a reminder of the existence of other people. It’s certainly a great place to live. It’s just a pity for Elana that the inside still needs quite a lot of work to finish it off.

As I climb down the scaffolding, more than ready to demolish my packed lunch, the postman is at the door of Hillside View and Eve looks up.

‘Luke, I have a cheque here for you. Step inside while I go and find it.’

I loiter inside the porch, making sure I don’t step off the coir matting. My boots are mostly clean, but the light-cream carpet beyond it isn’t exactly practical. I guess when you have money that’s not a major consideration.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Luke. Here you go. Please tell Matthew that we’re thrilled with the work and ask if he can confirm when exactly in January he’s able to make a start on the new conservatory.’

‘No problem, and it’s nice to get feedback. And thanks, too, for your recommendation to next door.’

‘Oh, Elana. Yes, an unfortunate expense for her, I’m afraid, but in another way she’s relieved to think it will all be fixed very soon.’

I turn to go, then hesitate.

‘Um … just so I don’t put my foot in it, or anything. Do you mind if I ask when her husband died? I heard her daughter talking about it.’

‘About sixteen months ago in a tragic accident. A tyre blowout on the motorway. It’s considerate of you to ask. So easy to assume a husband is around and she’s very fragile still, naturally.’

I nod my thanks, holding up the cheque in acknowledgement and head off to the van.

It’s a bit chilly, but with the radio playing in the background I’m happy enough sitting here eating my sandwiches and looking out over the extensive views. If only I could stop my mind wandering and wondering ‘what if’. If Anita wasn’t so bitter, if I’d realised how trapped she’d end up feeling—

A movement in front of me makes me jerk my head up and I see Elana parking her car up by the garage. As she walks down the path it would be rude not to wave. She smiles and when she draws alongside the van I wind the window down, because she appears to be slowing her pace.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch, Luke. When you’ve finished do you think you could pop in and take a look at something?’

‘Will do, Mrs James – I mean, Elana. I’ll be in shortly.’

Even when she smiles there’s that little hint of sadness in those green eyes of hers. Something that she probably isn’t even aware is there, or maybe it takes one to know one. People who have sadness in their lives often carry it inside, unseen, but the eyes are the windows of the soul. When a hurt runs deep there’s no getting away from it. I wonder if that’s what people see when they look at me – the disappointment and sense of failure I feel.

I straighten my back and stretch out my arms, my muscles beginning to ache a little from sitting in a cramped space. I can’t wait to get to the gym tonight and have a really good workout. Then it’s a takeaway pizza and a little software program to test out. One of these days, hopefully, I’ll have something to sell that will take away all of my money worries. Until then, though, it’s back to the job in hand.

As I walk up to the front door of Bay Tree Cottage, Elana is looking out for me and immediately opens the door.

‘Thanks, Luke. Much appreciated. The problem is in the utility room, this way. Don’t bother about your boots, it’s hardly pristine in here.’

She sounds accepting of the situation and I feel for her, now I understand the position she’s in. She appears to be quite a proud lady and it must hurt, being alone with a child and living in something that is only partially completed.

I follow her into the narrow utility room and she pulls open the doors to the sink unit, exposing a large bucket half-full of water. A constant drip that is running quite fast is like a low drumbeat.

‘How long’s it been leaking?’

I look across at her and she grimaces.

“A while. I have to empty the bucket several times a day. And it’s getting worse.’

A quick glance isn’t enough to discover what’s causing the leak, although it’s sufficient to establish that this probably wasn’t done by the best plumber in the world. If her husband did it I have to be careful. In fairness, it’s not a really bad job, but there’s a lot of pipe work running off to service the washing machine and dishwasher. I would have configured it differently, flush against the back wall so that if there was a problem everything was easier to access. Quite simply, this is a pig of a job, because it’s going to be difficult to get a wrench in there to tighten up whichever joint is leaking.

‘It’s not a problem. I’ll go and grab some tools.’

She lets out a sharp breath, clearly relieved it’s something I can fix.

‘I was rather worried you’d say it was a major problem. I’m afraid the plumber we used wasn’t the best. My husband wasn’t here when the work was done and when he saw it he thought it was a bit of a mess.’

I smile and shrug, but she looks back at me rather flustered. I’m not sure she meant to share that, so I make a quick exit and when I return she’s nowhere in sight. I throw a dust sheet on the floor and open the doors wide, then take out the shelf. Lying down on my back I ease myself into the cabinet and stare up at the maze of pipes. Isn’t it always the way that the leak comes from the top? It’s the cold tap that’s leaking; the drip is almost constant. I can just about get my hand up between the pipes and get the wrench in place, but when it bites I can only twist it about a millimetre at a time. Even then, nothing seems to be happening. Then it dawns upon me that whoever installed this probably cross-threaded it when they tightened it up. Every time I move it slightly, it’s just going around the same thread. Nothing I do seems to stem the dribble of water. I hear a cough and as I begin easing myself back out, I find myself looking up at Elana.

‘It’s not going to be an easy fix, is it?’

I guess she can tell from the look on my face.

‘Hey, it’s not as bad as that. Someone has over-tightened the nut at some point and it looks like the tap itself is crossed-threaded. That means when I try to do it up it’s not making any difference.’

‘There’s an “and”, isn’t there?’

I nod.

‘And that means a new tap. The problem with the layout underneath there is that the taps were put in first. All the extra pipe work was installed without any thought to accessing the taps. In all honesty I’m better off doing a quick re-design so that it’s easier for the future. If I try to replace the tap as it is now, it will probably take me longer than sorting it out once and for all.’

She nods. ‘Okay. Thanks. No point in cutting corners. To be honest, I’m getting a little sick of the word leak. Do you have any idea how much this is going to cost?’

‘It’s a couple of hours’ work and a tap, that’s all. It won’t be a lot. As I’m here working anyway, it will just be a small add-on.’

‘Thanks, I appreciate that. Can I make you a drink?’

‘That’s very kind, but I’ll pop off now to pick up a replacement tap. I have everything else I need in the van. It going to take me a couple of hours, tops.’

‘Sorry to have pulled you away from the roof. Oh, there’s my phone – I’ll leave you to it. I’ll make a cuppa when you get back. And thanks for not making a drama out of my little crisis.’ She gives me a warm smile and the little furrow in her forehead disappears for a second or two.

***

Elana opens the door and I step inside, slipping off my boots.

‘You know, there’s really no need. It’s not as if the floor is clean, the concrete constantly throws up a white dust and I’ve given up on it.’

‘It’s a habit – we like to respect our customers’ homes. I’m going to have to turn off the water for a while, so if you need to run a tap for anything let me know when you’re done.’

‘The kettle is full, so no problem. It’s only me here during the day when Maya is at school, so you aren’t disrupting anything. One sugar, white – right?’

‘Thanks. I’ll make a start, then.’

As Elana disappears into the kitchen, I head off to the utility room. Walking past the computer in the corner of the dining room, I can’t help but notice the photo of a rather good-looking guy on the screen. It must be so hard to lose the person you love, just like that; having to juggle not only your own emotions, but those of a child, too. It makes me think of the Santa thing and her daughter. It’s not something I can bring up, but I sincerely hope she’s aware of what’s going on inside that little girl’s head.

Anyway, it’s none of my business and now I have a mess of pipes to hack about, so I can start again and do the job as it should have been done in the first place. Shoddy workmanship just annoys the heck out of me.

Chapter 6

Luke

Dad For the Day

Picking up Joe is always a bittersweet moment. It’s great to know I have some quality time with him and yet the handover is always upsetting. What I wish is that we could have family time together, all three of us. It can’t happen, I know, as whatever was good between Anita and me has completely disappeared. Maybe it’s just too soon to expect her to be able to put her feelings to one side to join in our fun. But I always try.

‘We’re going swimming, would you like to come?’

She looks directly at me, raising one eyebrow with disdain.

‘Swimming? You know the chlorine isn’t good for my hair. I think I’ll pass. Besides, I’m meeting up with a friend at the mall to do some shopping. Goodness knows, I don’t get much time to myself and I deserve a few hours off.’

I’m such a fool, I didn’t mean to upset her, or make her feel guilty for grabbing a few carefree hours. I just thought … hoped—

‘No, it’s fine. I understand. I thought I’d ask, as you know what Joe’s like. He loves splashing about in the water and it’s great fun.’

The eyebrow doesn’t lower and I hold Joe up for a goodbye kiss. She hugs him close, plants a kiss on his forehead and says, ‘Mumma loves you. See you later, little guy.’

I know she’s pulled between the sadness of letting him go and the desire to grab some precious me time. It’s different for the guys, isn’t it? Most men don’t even consider that when a baby arrives it’s a truly life-changing event being a mum. It’s often something we take for granted. We tend to dip in and out of our kids’ lives, a lot of men still being the traditional main provider. And even when both parents are working, I wonder how many men jump out of bed in the middle of the night when the kids start crying? I like to think I did my share, but Anita was always awake before me and out of bed before it registered with me that Joe was even awake. Perhaps it’s all down to how we are wired up.

Joe wriggles, clearly eager to be put down and for us to get on our way. He looks up at me expectantly as I grasp his little hand in mine.

‘Swimming, Joe?’

He nods. ‘Water,’ he says in that sing-songy little voice of his. It sounds more like ‘vauta’, but his words are getting much easier to understand as the weeks go by. Apparently he’s a little behind on his speech, considering he’s now seventeen months old, but my mum says boys are often like that. Girls, apparently, are much quicker to talk.

‘Right, little man. We have one job to do on the way to the pool. Daddy has to drop something off as Granddad forgot, so we’re taking the scenic route and going via the forest. Trees, Joe? Wanna see some big trees?’

Joe nods enthusiastically, although I’m not sure he understands. You don’t get many big trees in the middle of a busy town, so I hope he’s going to love the detour.

He’s happy enough in his car seat and as we leave behind the built-up area of town and the landscape changes, he’s fascinated by the open fields.

‘Look Joe, sheep!’

‘Eep.’ He repeats, pulling his finger out of his mouth and pushing the wet digit against the car window. ‘Eep.’ A once-clean window is now covered in smears and it makes me smile. Today I feel like a dad again.

As we pull up outside Bay Tree Cottage, I unclip Joe from the seat and he claps his hands. ‘Baa, baa,’ he shouts. He thinks we’re going to look at the sheep up close.

‘No, Joe. But we are going to see a great view.’

I grab the roll of flashing from the boot and walk down to the cottage, both arms full. Then I realise I need to ring the doorbell, but the lead is even heavier than Joe. Just as I’m considering my dilemma the door opens and it’s Maya.

‘Hi, Maya. I’m just dropping this off and wondered if your mummy was around?’

‘Baba,’ Joe says, not wanting to be left out.

‘Maya’s a big girl, Joe. You’re the baba.’

Maya laughs. ‘He’s funny and cute!’ She reaches out and he grabs her hand. Elana walks up behind Maya, smiling.

‘Ah, what a sweetie. Who is this little chap?’

‘His name is Joe.’

‘Mum. Can he come in and play, please?’

Elana looks at me and then smiles down at Maya.

‘I think that’s rather up to Luke.’

She tilts her head in my direction, clearly quite happy to invite us in.

‘Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt your day. I was just going to ask if I could store this in the hallway. I’ll need it on Monday and it’s not something I can leave outside. It’s just that I don’t have the van at weekends.’ I turn my gaze in the direction of Joe.

‘Oh, sorry. That’s heavy and you have your hands full. Step inside, please. I’ll put the kettle on.’

Elana disappears and I put Joe down. At first he clings to my leg, but Maya starts talking to him and, before I know it, he’s toddling after her as she encourages him inside.

I’m relieved to dump the roll of lead as I’m not sure how much longer I could have carried it. It’s only as I turn to enter the cottage that I notice the photo on the windowsill. It’s Elana and her husband. I recognise him from her screensaver; he’s holding Maya, who is probably only a few weeks old.

‘What will Joe drink?’

Elana’s voice catches my attention and I quickly check on the kids before I join her in the kitchen.

‘Water will be fine. He’s not very good with a cup still, but he’s okay if I hold it for him.’

She hands me a mug of coffee and carries a tray through into the sitting room.

‘Take a seat, Luke. So, do you babysit often?’

Maya is on the floor showing Joe one of the apps on her iPad. There’s a small monkey running around collecting bananas and as they both stab their fingers at the screen, he runs faster and faster.

‘Sort of, he’s my son, actually.’

Elana takes the seat opposite me, a look of mild surprise on her face.

‘Oh, I didn’t realise you were a family man.’ Her face looks a little flushed.

‘I’m older than I look,’ I retort. Her cheeks are now beginning to glow. ‘It’s complicated. We split up when Joe was six months old. I have him every Saturday.’

Quiet ensues as we both turn our attention to taking sips of coffee that is way too hot to drink. Maya and Joe are having lots of fun and now they have crayons and a colouring book.

‘Just make sure he keeps his crayon on the paper, Maya. He’s still learning the rules.’ Maya smiles back at me as Joe does a squiggle all over a Christmas tree she drew for him.

‘That’s sad,’ Elana says after a few minutes have elapsed.

‘Yeah, well, it wasn’t my decision. But you know what it’s like, life has to go on.’ The moment I finish speaking I realise that she might think I was referring to her situation, too. She probably doesn’t realise I know, so now I’m the one feeling embarrassed. I glance across at her and our eyes meet.

‘It certainly does,’ is all that she says. There’s no emotion in her voice, though, and no hint of acknowledgement beyond the obvious. It’s a relief, as I have to remember she’s a client.

‘He’s a happy little chappie, so you must be doing something right. It’s hard for the kids when things go wrong. It’s a constant worry, isn’t it?’

‘Yep. I don’t like to think of him paying the price for our mistakes. But you’re right, he is happy most of the time. Sometimes on handover he wails when I have to leave and that breaks my heart.’

‘Do you want to try him with his drink?’ Elana holds out the plastic cup.

I take it and hold it out to Joe. He immediately toddles over and with his hand on one handle, and mine on the other, he drinks half of it in one go.

‘Ta,’ he mutters and then heads straight back to Maya and the colouring book.

‘Aww … he’s a little darling. I can’t really remember Maya at that age; I’d have to look back at the photos. I vaguely remember that every time she tried to pick something up off the floor she would topple over. Her head seemed to be heavier than her body for ages, as she was very slim. She constantly walked around with a forehead that looked like she’d been fighting!’

We laugh and for some reason Joe decides to join in, which makes Maya laugh, too.

‘Look, I really didn’t intend to disrupt your day and we’d better get off. I’m taking Joe swimming and then we’re going to visit my parents. Thanks so much for the coffee and I’ll be here at seven on Monday. The weather forecast is dry but overcast, so fingers crossed I can get that lead work sorted and then make a start on the repointing.’

‘It’s been a real pleasure and Maya has enjoyed playing with Joe. Next door are away this weekend and she’s missing the company of her friend.’

‘It must be nice having a best friend living next door. Lucky too, given this location. I haven’t seen many other kids around.’

As I scoop Joe up and he gives Maya a big wave, we head out to the front door.

‘It’s one of the drawbacks when you have kids, but we thought the benefits outweighed the negatives. It’s safe for them to play outside, there isn’t much passing traffic, and nature in all its glory is literally on the doorstep.’

I don’t think Elana realises she said we and I pretend not to notice. I guess it’s hard to switch from being one half of a happy couple to being a widow. Even the word itself sounds grim and it doesn’t suit her. Grief is a process, I believe, so I’m sure it’s not easy going through each stage. I suppose splitting up with someone is quite similar in some respects. I’m grieving for what could have been and still trying to work out what to do next.

As I strap Joe back into his car seat I can’t help thinking that this is the sort of life I’d envisioned for my family. I just thought it was a few years away and by then I’d be financially secure. Instead, it’s all one big sorry mess. They do say you get the life you deserve and I guess Anita and I aren’t being punished, but paying the price for letting life sweep us along. No baby should be a surprise, it should be something that is planned. My aim now is to make sure I keep them both as happy as I can, given the circumstances.

Chapter 7

Elana

Living Life Under a Cloud of Dust

I sit in front of the screen with my email to the publishers open in front of me. There’s a massive sense of accomplishment as I press the send button and, at long last, the outline of Aiden’s biography is winging its way to their offices. They promised they would get the payment for stage one processed by the end of next week. I’ll have to wait to find out what changes they want once they’ve had a chance to consider my initial thoughts, but that doesn’t affect payday.

I told Seth Greenburg, Aiden’s business manager, I’d give him a call once it was done. I grab my phone, sitting back and looking at the screen with a measure of satisfaction and relief.

‘Seth, it’s Elana James. The outline is done and on the way. I doubt I will hear anything now until the New Year, but as soon as I do, I’ll let you know what they have to say. I’ve plenty to be going on with and I’ll begin fleshing out some of my notes from the various interviews.’

‘Great. I’m sorry Aiden couldn’t be available as often as we’d hoped, but it’s going to be a case of grabbing time with him when you can. I mentioned the idea of you perhaps accompanying him on tour in March, but he’s doing a special gig on New Year’s Eve at Eastleigh Court. It’s invite only, as it’s a private party for Morton Wiseman, but I wondered if it might be an opportunity for you two to meet in person. I think you’ll understand a lot more about him when you see him perform live.’