Читать книгу Willow Cottage – Part Two: Christmas Cheer - Bella Osborne, Bella Osborne - Страница 8

The following week was a blur of activity for Beth, with workmen to liaise with and sorting out Leo’s new school. The head teacher was thrilled to have another pupil joining them and confirmed that Leo would be in the same class as Denis. His uniform was easily purchased direct from the school too, so a day after term started Leo was walking to the local primary, chatting at high speed to Denis. Petra and Beth followed behind. Beth was grinding her teeth – something she seemed to do whenever she was stressed.

‘Look at him, he’ll be fine,’ Petra said, giving Beth a reassuring look. ‘It’s a nice school. I like that there aren’t many children, it means they get more attention. Boys need a watching eye.’

‘I guess so,’ Beth replied. Seeing him in a new uniform brought home the fact that she had wrenched him away from everything he knew and forced him into this situation, although she had to admit that right now he seemed fine about the change. Beth knew that as soon as the cottage was finished she would be looking to move, so this new school situation, and the feelings that accompanied it, would be a recurring state of affairs and another wave of guilt engulfed her.

The builder, Kyle, was on site with two colleagues and they got to work alongside a small weasel-like man who was the electrician. Beth was impressed by the amount the four of them could get accomplished as she battled on her own with the triffid-like plant that had been hell-bent on taking over the kitchen.

Kyle had explained that they were going to do their best to reproduce the original lath and plaster ceilings with modern materials. But they were leaving out the horsehair; Beth had wholeheartedly agreed with that as it just seemed a very bad idea to put any part of a horse in anything. She was also quite keen to get a smooth finish and she hated it when a hair from a paintbrush became immortalized in a painted surface, let alone lots of them.

There had been a steady stream of boards carried into the living room and upstairs, and repeated banging whilst they were nailed into place before it went eerily quiet and the plastering commenced. Beth had poked her head around the living-room door a couple of times and each time she could see a vast improvement from before. She was so pleased to see that they had protected the large beam over the fireplace with sheeting. She loved the look of the old beam – it was a real feature in the room. For a moment, she could imagine her own knick-knacks and photographs on it above a roaring log fire but she dispelled the image quickly as Willow Cottage was meant to be a project. Getting sentimentally attached to it was a very bad idea.

When Beth checked her watch, it was time for school pick-up and she wondered how all the hours had dissolved so quickly. She washed her hands and looked at the stubborn plant stump that was still poking its way through the window frame. She wouldn’t be beaten by it; she’d hack at it from the other side when she got back.

Beth met Leo with more than a little trepidation but she needn’t have worried. Apart from handing her his rucksack with a muffled ‘Hiya,’ he barely acknowledged his mother as he was far too busy discussing football with Denis and two other boys.

Petra gave her a knowing nod. ‘What is it you say in this country? I told you so.’

September proved to be a beautiful month as the daytime hours got noticeably shorter and the colours changed around the village. The village green’s trees put on a vivid display as they took on their autumn hues, with the rich bronze of the large beech trees and the deep red shades of the ash and rowan being Beth’s favourites. The last of the ducklings were just distinguishable from their parents and were now glad of a feed midweek, as the tourists only seemed to appear at weekends. The morning skies were almost lavender, and although there was more cloud about, it was still comfortingly warm.

The school did a brilliant job of putting on the harvest festival, which was very well attended by the villagers and which Leo loved taking part in. He had one line to remember which he delivered perfectly, much to his delight and Beth’s relief. She noticed that Jack gave him a big thumbs-up when he came offstage too.

Beth was working on the cottage every day. She was up before Leo and could easily get an hour in before he stirred. Thanks to the electrician, the entire cottage was rewired and totally safe, so despite still sleeping in the tent, the introduction of a fridge/freezer, microwave, kettle and toaster had improved things greatly. All the new appliances were residing in the hallway whilst Beth tackled the kitchen, making a little progress each day.

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.