Willow Cottage – Part Two: Christmas Cheer

By the end of the month, Kyle had finished all the essentials, so Beth now had two new ceilings, a new bedroom floor, a leak-free roof, and a damp course. She had been making progress herself – the whole house had been scrubbed and bleached to within a dust speck of its very existence and she was now making inroads on the kitchen, having banished the creeping plant. In fact she was down to the stage she’d been looking forward to most: designing a fitted kitchen.

The reality of handing over a large chunk of her savings to pay for the work and the lack of anything coming into her account worried her, and she knew it was time to economize further. Within hours, she was literally waving goodbye to the hire car, much to the embarrassment of Leo and the hire-car collector. She hadn’t used it much since they’d got there and trips to the supermarket and launderette could be accomplished on the bus, but she would build up to that adventure; there was only so much she could cope with at once.

The next milestone came in the form of two large flat-pack boxes and heralded the end of sleeping in the tent. Leo was seriously excited at the prospect of having a real bed again, which made Beth choke up. After an exciting day of screwing together the beds, Beth found herself in the pub on carnivorous quiz night, so called because it was sponsored by the local butcher, and all the prizes were meat- or poultry-related. Only in the Cotswolds, thought Beth and, more accurately, only in Dumbleford. Leo and Denis were in the flat above the pub watching Dr Who on DVD, giving Beth a little time to herself. It felt good to be away from the cottage. She sat at the bar sipping a small glass of wine and engaging in stilted conversation with Petra, who flitted from one customer to the next as they got their rounds in before the quiz started.

Jack suddenly appeared at Beth’s side. She felt his presence before he spoke. ‘Beth,’ was all he said, with a curt nod of his head.

‘Jack.’ She mimicked the nod before returning to her drink. This was their level of interaction since the whole bank holiday debacle with Carly.

‘Oh good, you two are friends again,’ gushed Petra, as she pulled a pint of Guinness for Jack. Both Jack and Beth went to speak but it seemed neither had the heart to contradict her. ‘You doing the quiz tonight, Beth?’ asked Petra. Beth shook her head as Jack shuffled coins around in his hand whilst waiting for his drink. Petra leaned over the bar conspiratorially, ‘You should.’ She winked slowly. Beth glanced at Jack in an attempt to gauge his reaction. She’d hardly spoken to anyone all day and, if she were honest with herself, she wouldn’t have minded joining in.

‘Petra, you’re being all mysterious. What do you know?’ asked Jack, paying for his pint.

‘I couldn’t possibly say but, trust me, you need Beth in the team tonight. Unless of course you want another crushing humiliation like last week?’

‘Come on, then,’ said Jack, walking away from the bar. It was very similar to the way he spoke to Doris. Oh to be held in that high regard by Jack, thought Beth, as she smirked to herself. She joined the usual team members at their table and they all asked her the same questions that everyone did: How are you settling into the village? How is the cottage coming along? Beth had fairly set answers for both which she repeated, and then picked up her glass to indicate the interrogation was over.

Jack let out a slow steady breath and Beth stiffened. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t got on with weatherproofing the window frames before the weather changes.’ Jack was talking into his pint. She had expected some sort of criticism from him but she wasn’t going to rise to it. She knew she wasn’t going to be friends with Jack but she didn’t have the energy to be enemies either.

‘Hmm.’ She pondered his statement. ‘I don’t know why I haven’t either.’ Jack looked briefly in her direction and raised one eyebrow in a look of disbelief. ‘It’s probably because there’s only me doing it all and I thought getting the place hygienic so that Leo and I don’t come down with some fatal dirt-related disease was more important. Oh, and focusing on getting the kitchen fitted so that we can actually eat something different to barbecued meat and microwaved jacket potato.’

All eyes at the table studied their drinks intensely as silence reigned.

‘You need a hand?’ asked Jack at last, a slow smile playing on his lips.

‘No, thanks,’ she answered almost before he’d finished the sentence.

Simon bent forward. ‘Did you say you were fitting your own kitchen? Because I’m a chippy by trade and I’d happily give you a hand. Only if you wanted me to, obviously.’ He appeared keen to avoid the same rebuff as Jack.

‘Thank you, Simon, that’s really kind of you, but even with your expert help I’d be hopeless at fitting a kitchen so I’ll pay the store to fit it.’

‘No,’ said Jack, loud enough for Audrey to almost spill her Martini and lemonade. ‘Sorry, I mean, don’t do that, they’ll charge the earth and they rush things. If you don’t mind it taking a bit longer, me and Simon could do it evenings and weekends for you.’ He was signalling to Simon as he spoke, and Simon was nodding so hard Beth feared he might injure his neck.

‘I don’t know,’ said Beth, looking at them both. Simon looked quite excited at the prospect. Jack was now giving off his usual hard-to-read aloofness. ‘What would it cost me?’

Simon spoke first. ‘I only take payment in strong tea and custard creams.’ He gave her a warm friendly smile, which she returned. They both looked at Jack for his response.

He rubbed his chin. ‘Dog-sitting.’

Beth’s brow furrowed. ‘Dog-sitting? Looking after Doris?’

‘Yep. I’m at home less and less and she’s unhappy being left on her own. If you’re in all day you could have her at yours and keep each other company.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Beth. The thought of the giant hound in the small cottage didn’t sound like anyone’s idea of a smart combination. ‘Do I have to pick up poo?’

Jack chuckled. ‘No, she goes first thing, so you should be all right. But, in case of emergency, put a bucket over it and I’ll sort it when I pick her up, okay?’

Beth was still assessing the proposition as the fat man with the shiny head took to the mike. ‘Welcome to the Bleeding Bear Pub Quiz. Round one: the London Underground. Are you ready? Question one …’

Beth looked over her shoulder to see Petra giving them the thumbs-up and another unsubtle wink.

Fergus was sulking. Things hadn’t been great since the treehouse fiasco, mainly because Fergus didn’t know what he had done wrong and Carly wasn’t able to explain it to him. When she’d asked Beth for advice, she had suggested that they needed to speak to each other more. Her choice of words may have been ill thought through but her sentiment was spot on. They had been interacting less and less recently and Carly needed to do something before things became irretrievable.

The fact was that they were drifting apart and Carly felt it acutely. So now she was going to do her best to engage with Fergus and to show an interest in the things he was interested in. The last thing she wanted was for the relationship to break down; she loved him and she knew that was all that really mattered.

Carly made Fergus his favourite vegetable curry with naan bread, poppadoms and mango chutney, which they ate in silence. She opened him a chilled beer and passed it across the table.

‘Thanks,’ he said.

‘Fergus, I want to know about …’ Carly stopped signing as Fergus wasn’t watching her, he was drinking his beer with his eyes closed. She waited until he put it down. She waved to make sure she had his attention. ‘Fergus, I want to know about your work,’ she signed.

‘Why?’ He didn’t look pleased at the prospect.

‘I’m interested and I don’t know anything about it.’

He pursed his lips. He had full lips, eminently kissable lips. Carly was distracted and missed what he’d signed. She signed to him to repeat it and he looked frustrated with her.

‘Why don’t you play a few games on the computer with me and then you’ll get it.’

This was what Carly had feared most. She didn’t get computer games. In her view they were just for children and she didn’t see the point of them. To her it was all a big waste of time but she knew she had to overcome her prejudice for the sake of their relationship. ‘Okay, I’ll clear away the dinner things. You set something easy up and I’ll give it a go.’

Fergus was grinning broadly. He looked thrilled that Carly was going to play his game with him. Bless him, she thought.

An hour later she wasn’t thinking bless him. She was thinking that she could have merrily battered him to death with the computer mouse. He had explained to her at length about Minecraft and the myriad creatures that occupied its strange world. She had then been let loose on the game herself, with Fergus giving instructions over her shoulder, and now she’d had enough of being chased by ghasts, creepers and endermen, or whatever the stupid creatures were. It was so stressful and watching the screen lurch about was making her feel nauseous too.

‘What do you mean I’m now a flowerpot?’ shouted Carly.

Part of the confusion seemed to have come with Fergus explaining verbally to Carly what he felt were very clear instructions but, as they were both looking at the screen and Carly’s hands were busy using the controls, any questions she asked went unheard and unanswered.

‘No, you need to act like a flowerpot or someone will spot you and kill you. Ahh, there you go, you’re dead.’ Fergus stretched over, tapped on the keyboard and the screen changed. ‘Here, forget the mini-games, let’s try building something again.’

Carly dropped the controller as if it were molten lava. She would rather have her eyeballs tattooed than play for another minute. As the earlier lesson on building had also turned into a one-sided shouting match, Carly knew she had to walk away before she did or said something she would regret.

‘Beer?’ she signed and he signed ‘Please,’ which allowed her to escape to the kitchen where she could have a good rant without being heard.

Chapter Thirteen

Beth was juggling a PE kit and a lunch box as she tried to leave the house. ‘Hang on,’ said Beth as she locked the front door. She didn’t want Leo charging off without her. ‘Have you had Jack, I mean Mr Selby, teach your class yet?’

‘Nope,’ said Leo, fidgeting as he saw Denis come out of the side door of the pub.

Beth couldn’t work out why Jack was so busy if he wasn’t teaching. The school only had one class and, from what she’d gleaned, he was their IT teacher. Things weren’t adding up. On the walk to school, Petra was having a rant about brewery deliveries so Beth just listened and nodded in the right places.

Leo was swallowed up by the ancient school entrance without giving his mother a backward glance. It jabbed at Beth’s heart but she was pleased that he had settled in so well. As she walked back with Petra, the subject changed to being a single parent.

‘I don’t know how you run the pub as well,’ said Beth, who was truly in awe of Petra. There was no question that Beth was better off without Nick but it was no picnic managing everything alone.

Petra shrugged off the compliment. ‘How long have you been on your own with Leo?’

‘Since he was a baby. There was a boyfriend until recently but that didn’t work out. How about you?’

‘The same,’ she said, with a sad smile.

‘Leo’s father died. What happened to Denis’s?’

‘Disappeared,’ said Petra, wiggling her fingers into the air. Beth was smiling at the gesture but Petra wasn’t.

‘Like magic?’

‘Like the Devil,’ said Petra, with a frown. Beth wanted to ask her more but they were level with the pub and, with a forced smile and a wave, Petra was gone.

Beth started to think about what she had on her ‘to-do’ list for the day and decided that, although it pained her, Jack was right and she needed to get on with the outside paintwork. The trees on the green were turning all the colours of a fanned flame; some were starting to drop their leaves and, though the weather was fair and dry today, there was no telling how long that would last.

As she rounded the willow tree, she saw Jack. He was suited up and checking his watch. Beth slowed her pace for a second to give herself a moment longer to admire him. There was no getting away from the fact that Jack Selby was rather good-looking. His hair was neater than usual and his suit showed off his broad shoulders and slim hips. He really did suit a suit, she thought, and it made her giggle. Doris sat at his side looking around and probably wondering what was going on.

‘Good morning and welcome to doggy daycare,’ said Beth, striding past them to unlock the door. Doris padded in and started sniffing everything.

‘Here’s her bowl and blanket. She’s been fed, she just needs water. She’s been for a run so she’ll most likely sleep all day. Any problems, give me a call.’ This was going to be easy, thought Beth.

‘Have you got a busy day ahead?’ she asked but as soon as the words had left her lips she wanted to curl into a ball. She sounded like her mother; if she wasn’t careful she’d be asking if he’d got clean underwear on next. She shook her head to dispel any thoughts of Jack’s underwear.

Jack gave a half-smile. ‘Just the usual.’ He handed her a business card. She was still reading the card and holding the dog’s bowl and blanket when she realized that Jack had gone and Shirley was walking past, taking in the scene and shaking her head.

‘Morning, Shirley,’ she said, with a wave.

‘Morning, crazy lady,’ said Shirley, as she and her trolley shuffled by. Beth felt a thump in her thigh as Doris charged past her. Doris’s gruff bark made Beth jump and cost her valuable moments as she lunged unsuccessfully for her collar. Doris bounded up to Shirley, making Shirley look even smaller than usual.

‘Doris! Come here! Heel! Stop! Halt!’ Beth tried a series of commands as she ran over to the barking dog, but Doris wasn’t paying attention. Doris was fixated on barking at Shirley and her wheelie trolley.

‘Stupid animal!’ said Shirley, waving her arms about wildly, which put the dog on her guard and she stepped back and wagged her tail whilst continuing to bark.

This gave Beth a chance to grab hold of her collar and she marched a reluctant Doris back inside. ‘Sorry!’ Beth called over her shoulder. Shirley shook her head, muttered something, patted her wheelie trolley and moved off again.

Beth guided Doris inside, shut the door firmly, and the dog recommenced her exploration of the cottage whilst Beth reread the business card.

Jack Selby

IT Consultant

Selby Systems

She was intrigued. Was he moonlighting? Or just bigging up a very small part? She turned the card over in her hand, looking for more clues, but that would have to wait until later as there was a noise coming from upstairs. Beth started up the stairs but, before she got halfway, her tent appeared in the bedroom doorway. Doris had somehow managed to get inside the tent but now was unable to get out of it and looked as if she was wearing it as a fancy dress costume. She tried and failed repeatedly to get through the doorway but the springy tent frame bounced her back each time as she whimpered her frustration. Beth blinked hard; maybe this wasn’t going to be that easy after all.

Carly was waiting on the cobbles in Covent Garden. She and Fergus were having a date night. She froze when she saw the bouquet of pale roses coming towards her but relaxed as soon as she saw it was Fergus carrying them.

‘You okay?’ he asked, planting a kiss on her lips.

‘Yes. I wasn’t because, for a second there, I thought you were Nick.’

‘Whoops. I got the roses because you really liked the ones he bought you.’

She had to admit it was a lovely thought, even if it was borrowed from Nick. ‘Your bunch is bigger than his.’

‘I know,’ grinned Fergus, before handing them over and giving her another kiss.

Date night was another of Beth’s ideas and Carly hoped it would end better than the Minecraft tutorial. Carly and Beth had slipped into having long conversations on the phone on a Wednesday evening and it was definitely helping Carly’s state of mind. There were few people that Carly would listen to but Beth was one of them. She had suggested that the proposal was becoming a destructive obsession and that Carly needed to recognize this. It wasn’t what Carly had wanted to hear but she knew her friend was right. And now she was trying very hard to shove it firmly to the back of her mind.

Fergus had booked the restaurant so Carly was a little apprehensive, although she had said that they could pay for it from the bills account in the hope that it would steer Fergus away from fast food. Fergus was wearing trousers and a jumper. No jogging bottoms or lounge trousers in sight – it was a very good start.

They strolled around Covent Garden for a while, popping in and out of the stalls and shops. Covent Garden was always full of life but especially in the early evening when the theatre crowd descended. People were sitting outside making the most of the lack of rain and mild September weather. Music was coming from somewhere but, before they could investigate, Fergus took her arm and guided her away. They ambled along Garrick Street until Fergus stopped and opened the door to a small restaurant.

‘It’s new,’ he whispered, ‘but I’ve heard good things about it online.’

It looked as if a lot of other people had heard good things – the restaurant was heaving. Every inch of available space had a table in it and every table had as many chairs around it as possible but the jolly waiting staff seemed to squeeze through the awkward set-up with ease.

The menus arrived and, on realizing Fergus was deaf, their young waitress proceeded to shout at Fergus, ‘Can you hear me now?’

‘No, I’m still deaf,’ said Fergus, to the puzzled young woman. ‘I can lip-read but it’s easier if you don’t shout.’ She blushed and proceeded to go through the specials at a normal volume. Fergus had long since stopped getting cross with people who thought shouting at him would solve the problem; their lack of awareness wasn’t meant as a personal attack.

The food was incredible and, for the first time in too long, they signed to each other and had proper conversations in between courses. At first, Carly felt the intrigued eyes of other customers on them but they soon lost interest.

Fergus talked about them getting away to Ireland. There were places he wanted to show her, parts of his history he wanted her to see for herself. He brought to life the smell of the peat fires and the noise of the bars as well as the madness of his family. She had met his parents a few times when they’d visited London and she’d been to Ireland once but it had been a flying visit where she was wheeled round elderly relative after elderly relative before they attended his cousin’s wedding. On that trip she had got to know quite a lot of his relatives, the fun and overwhelming volume of an Irish wedding reception, and the effects of too much Guinness, but sadly nothing of County Westmeath.

At the end of the meal, they sat and sipped tea until one of the waitresses coughed and they noticed they were the only ones left in the restaurant.

Fergus took Carly’s hand across the small table. ‘Are you happy, Carls?’

She didn’t have to think. ‘Yes, I am.’ Things were looking better and, more importantly, things felt better. She wasn’t foolish enough to think everything was completely fixed but they were definitely heading in the right direction.

‘That’s good, ’cause I’m happy too. Just the way things are.’ Carly wasn’t sure what that meant. She tried to keep smiling but her brain was working overtime now. Was he trying to tell her something? She wanted to ask him but he was smiling at her and she didn’t want to turn the happy moment into a deep discussion or, worse still, a row.

The bill arrived, Fergus paid with his sole account card and they walked to the tube hand in hand and in silence. Carly tumbled his words over in her mind but the only way she could interpret them was that Fergus didn’t want anything to change and she assumed that included marriage because that would definitely change things.

‘So why didn’t you say something right then, at that moment?’ asked Beth, the irritation obvious in her tone as she tried to balance the phone between her ear and shoulder. ‘That was the perfect opportunity to raise the whole marriage question.’

Carly was pulling faces on the other end of the line. ‘I know, but then the bill arrived and the moment was gone and you can’t go back to a conversation later on, it doesn’t work.’ She’d been worrying about it all night and, thanks to fitful sleep, she felt wretched.

‘Yes, you can. How about saying, “I’ve been thinking about what you said in the restaurant and …” then you start talking about it again.’

‘Oh, that is rather clever,’ said Carly, ‘but still it was yesterday, he might not remember what he said.’

‘Then remind him. Jeez, you do make things hard sometimes, Carls.’ Beth was simultaneously unpacking what she’d bought from the DIY store.

Carly pondered her mixed emotions. ‘The thing is, I’m kippered either way because if I say I want to get married and he says he doesn’t, then …’

‘Then at least you’ll know … drop it, drop it now!’

‘What?’ Carly was shocked by Beth’s scolding.

‘Not you, sorry, Doris. Drop the mop, Doris. Good dog. Sorry, I’m dog-sitting.’

‘Dog-sitting? I didn’t know you even liked dogs,’ said Carly.

‘I’m not sure I do. It’s a long story. Anyway, carry on.’

‘Well, it’s even worse if Fergus says he does want to get married because he might just be saying it because I’ve said it and then he’ll only be asking me because I prompted him to and, worse still, he might opt for the “shall we get married then?” type of proposal which isn’t a proposal at all.’ Carly puffed out her cheeks. It was a conundrum and it weighed heavy on her.

‘Then I think you have to explain to him about your dream proposal.’

‘How do I do that without looking slightly mad and obsessive?’ She knew she wouldn’t be able to discuss it with Fergus without gushing or getting overexcited; in fact, it was very likely she might even cry. And she couldn’t show him her scrapbook of all the articles she’d collected over the years, he’d think she was proper crackers then. She was even starting to wonder it herself.

‘I’m afraid I don’t know,’ admitted Beth after a short pause. ‘Sorry, got to go. Doris has found the laundry bin. Bye, Carls … Drop my pants! Doris, pants! Drop them now!’

The phone went click before Carly could say bye. She cradled the phone in her hands. She was back in that uncertain space where she wasn’t sure where their relationship was going next and she had no idea what to do. So she’d just take a deep breath, carry on and keep hoping that everything would be okay.

Beth finally wrestled her now slobber-covered pants from Doris and dropped them disdainfully into the laundry bin. ‘Bad dog.’ Doris seemed to know what this meant because she grumbled and lay down flat on the floor, looking up at Beth with her big dark eyes.

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