Читать книгу The Wedding Shop on Wexley Street - Rachel Dove - Страница 13

The thing about ice cream that not enough people knew was that it had amazing restorative properties for the body. It soothed the soul, helped some sugar work its way around the sluggish body system when hungover, and cheered up the most melancholy of hearts. Since she no longer needed to fit into a wedding dress, or a honeymoon bikini, she felt that eating the emergency tub of Rocky Road from the icebox was allowed. It was the weekend after all, and it would melt anyway – since the whole shop was still down. It had been two hours, and even though the ‘open’ sign was flipped, no one had come into the shop. At this rate, next year she wouldn’t even have a shop to hide in. She sat on the floor, back against the countertop, legs pulled up to her sides as she balanced the tub on her knees. She could see her mother’s picture on the wall, and she looked at it as she did every day. In the years since she had passed, Maria had always missed her. When she’d signed for the shop, the first person she had wanted to call was her mum. When Darcy had proposed, Lynn and she had shed a tear or two about the fact she wouldn’t be there.

This time was different. Maria was broken, and she knew it. In her dehydrated, exhausted state, she felt the loss of her mother as though it were yesterday. She shovelled another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and looked at her mother’s smiling face.

‘I miss you so much, Mum. I have so much to tell you, and I don’t even know what to do anymore.’ A sob escaped her lips, and she sucked in a shaky breath. ‘Darcy… Darcy left me, and I got drunk… and there was a man… and the business…’ She dissolved into sobs, shoving the spoon into the half-empty tub of melting ice cream. ‘I miss you so much. I really want to pull it together, but I don’t think I can this time.’ She heard a noise at the side of her, but ignored it.

‘I just need someone to be there for me, Mum, for once. Why does everyone leave?’

‘Huh-hum.’ There was that noise again. Maria looked to her left and, through tear-stained eyes, saw that the shop door was ajar, and in front of it was a very puzzled-looking man. Quite a good-looking one at that.

‘Oh, shit!’ She jumped up, throwing the carton to one side and standing up so quickly she got a post-alcohol head rush. ‘Oh, ow!’ She grabbed her head with both hands, trying to quell the lightning bolt that was striking between her ears. He went to step forward, placing his bag on the floor and closing the shop door. He flicked it to closed, and then just kind of stood there, watching her. Maria was suddenly very aware of the fact that she had been caught mainlining ice cream, looking like a bag lady and talking to a wall. She wiped her eyes ineffectually. Looking down at the floor, she saw that the discarded ice cream tub was now lying on its side, dribbling its contents onto the hardwood floor. It felt like a metaphor for her life, discarded and dribbling away.

She took another stab at wiping her face with sticky fingers.

‘I’m really sorry, can I help you?’

The man didn’t say anything for a beat. He just looked at her, an odd expression on his face. She looked right back, trying to figure out who this man was and why he was just staring at her.

‘I’m the electrician. Are you okay?’ He was looking at her as though he was expecting a gust of wind to whip through the shop and blow her away. In turn, seeing him standing there, among the beautiful silks and trains of the front display window, Maria couldn’t help thinking how strong he looked. He was dressed in a simple black T-shirt and workers’ trousers in a dark gunmetal grey. He had actual guns, big arm muscles she could make out under his short sleeves. It was then she noticed his pockets were filled with assorted tools. He jangled a little as he moved closer, taking one slow step after another towards her.

‘I’m James Chance. I believe we spoke on the phone. Maria, is it?’

She nodded mutely, blinking back the tears that kept threatening to erupt. He took another step forward.

‘Okay,’ he said softly. ‘Why don’t you point me to the fuse box, and I’ll let you freshen up while I get started. That all right?’ She noticed his eyes then, blue-green, like beautiful glass marbles, topped off with thick, dark lashes against the darker cropped hair that peeked out from his baseball cap. They were looking at her with concern. It was a look she was all too used to nowadays, and she shrank away from it. The man picked up his toolbox and slowly walked closer to her. She walked zombie-like to the back room and pointed to the fuse box.

‘It’s there. I’ll just… er… go upstairs.’ She headed to the back stairs and looked back at him.

‘You okay down here?’ She realised she was about to leave her business, and her till, unattended, in the presence of a complete stranger.

‘I’m fine, don’t worry – and listen, I am trustworthy. I have ID, if you want to see it, or I can come back another time?’ The thought of him not fixing the electrics was incentive enough to swallow her fears. He didn’t look like a serial killer. Although what serial killers looked like was anybody’s guess. It wasn’t like they had a club badge or bought matching T-shirts.

‘No, no!’ she squeaked. ‘I really can’t afford to lose any more business right now. I really need the electrics fixing. I won’t be long, please stay.’ It didn’t escape her attention that she was begging a man not to leave. This was obviously her life now. Trying to hold a man down. Yay. Feminism was alive and kicking in Westfield.

He looked at her kindly. ‘I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.’ She smiled back, oddly comforted by his words. He turned away, and she headed up the stairs.

Looking in the mirror in the bathroom upstairs, Maria groaned. No wonder the bloke had been looking at her funny, what with talking to the wall. And this. Looking at her reflection was like looking at a poster of Zelda from Terrorhawks. Minus the good hair. Hers was stuck up all over, from a mixture of being tousled during stranger sex to leftover hair mousse. Plus what looked and smelt suspiciously like toothpaste. She put the plug in and ran the hot water, nipping to the rail in the other room to see what clothes she had on the hangers. Making her own clothes had its perks.

Heading down the stairs fifteen minutes later, wearing a simple summer dress and tights from her accessories stock box, her hair scraped back into a tidy bun, she could hear the soft bangs of metal on metal, followed by the occasional grunting and muttering.

She stood beside him and he turned at the noise. His gaze flicked over her, his eyes looking her up and down, and she flushed with embarrassment.

‘Sorry, I’m having a bit of a day.’ She brushed her dress skirt down self-consciously. It was a plain navy blue, brightened up slightly by a thin red belt and sheer tights.

James looked at her and smiled. ‘You look nice. Are you okay? It’s not my business, but—’

‘I’m fine,’ Maria said, plastering on a fake smile. It was her stock response nowadays; it didn’t even have any meaning anymore. Who was fine these days, really? ‘Can you fix my box?’

Her eyes widened as her words hit the air. ‘I mean, my fuse box, er… my electrics. Can you fix it?’

His lip twitched and he looked like he wanted to say something, but he turned back to the box and pointed. ‘This is outdated. To be honest, I’m surprised it’s worked as long as it has. The fuse wire was shot, so I’ve fixed it for now, but you really do need to replace it all, rewire the lot.’

Maria felt like she’d been punched in the gut. ‘Is there any way we can avoid that, maybe patch it up?’

James shook his head. ‘I can do a temporary fix, but realistically it needs doing now.’

Maria stood there, biting the skin on her thumbnail, shaking her head from side to side rapidly. James stepped down from his small stepladder.

‘Listen, you can get a second opinion, but they’ll only tell you the same. It needs sorting, the sooner the better. I am quite quiet next week so I can fit you in. I can even start today, if you like – cut down on the days you’d have to close.’ He looked around him at the empty shop. ‘You’re closed today, right? Do you have anywhere to stay?’

‘I’m open today, actually, and I don’t live here. I’m living with a friend.’

‘Because of the power?’ James asked. Maria frowned. Why did he care?

‘Er, no – I don’t live here. I lived in Harrogate till recently, but I… now I’m staying with my friend. Cass.’

He said nothing, rubbing his hand down the scruff of his facial hair.

‘My friend, Cass, she has a cottage here in Westfield. So it’s handy for work.’

He kept looking at her, one brow arched.

‘She’s a hotshot Harrogate divorce lawyer. She’s been really great, actually, putting me up.’

Nothing. He was looking at her like he was trying to work her out. Why do I feel the need to fill the silences?

‘So…’ She changed tack. ‘When can you start, and do you know how much, roughly?’

She was half-expecting him to start showing his butt crack and sucking the air in between his teeth, but he just shook his head.

‘I’ll need to get some parts. I’ll shop around to see what I can get. With the rewiring, you can redo the sockets and light fittings too. Do you have any ideas?’

I don’t even have a clue what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone making decisions like this. ‘I don’t know, do you need to know today? I don’t think I can do that today.’

‘You have a little time. Do you want me to come back when I have a few quotes for you?’

Maria found herself nodding along dumbly.

‘You sure you’re okay? Can I call someone to come?’

‘No!’ she squeaked, suddenly picturing Lynn and Cassie frantically racing to the shop, having received a mumbling call from a strange, deep voice. ‘No.’ Good, that was calmer, Maria. Well done. ‘I’m fine, really, I’m just having a bad day.’ Preceded by a few weeks of total devastation.

‘Yeah,’ he said, his head moving from side to side as he openly gawked at her. ‘You don’t look well. Are you ill?’

Maria went and had a little sit-down on her chair, wrapping her arms around herself.

‘I may or may not have had enough alcohol last night to stun an alcoholic rhino.’

He went back to work then, a grin on his face. ‘Ah, hangover and a bad day at work. That’ll do it. You own the place?’

‘Yep,’ she nodded, licking her lips to try to get some moisture going in her mouth.

‘Just you then?’

She groaned, hitting her head on the desk. ‘Yes, just me. A tiny little woman. Don’t you read the news? It’s old hat now. I’m fine on my own, aside from the binge drinking and awkward sexual encounter. Just fine and dandy. If people can’t handle that, it’s their tough luck.’

She was staring at the wooden counter, trying to resist the urge to slam her head against it again, when she realised the whole shop was quiet. She sneaked a peek under her arm and looked at him. He was standing halfway up the ladder, looking straight at her.

‘I meant in the business. Is it just you in the business?’

Oh, holy mother of hell. He must think I’m barmy.

‘Oh!’ She laughed awkwardly, a shrill cackle that made her sound like she was auditioning for Wicked. ‘I thought… well, never mind what I thought. It’s fine. No, it’s my business but I employ Lynn part-time. She worked with my mother before she passed. I opened this up and she came with me.’

What the hell are you doing! Stop telling him your life story, you bloody demented woman!

He nodded, closing up the fuse box and stepping down the ladder.

‘Okay, it’s safe now for when you go home, but I really think you need to get it sorted soon. I can come tomorrow if you like. I have a free day.’

I bet you can too, at double the cost.

‘I won’t charge weekend rates. I’m at a loose end at the moment myself. I have family staying with me and I’d be glad of an excuse to get out of the house to be honest.’

He pulled a face, and she sat up.

‘That would be great, thanks. How much do I owe for today?’

He waved her away as he packed up his tools. ‘I’ll let you have some quotes tonight, and we can sort the bill then.’

She nodded, thinking of her bank account. With the honeymoon costs, and the way business was going, it would be tight. She would be living with Cass for a while at this rate, not that Cass would mind. Her liver might object, though.

He was just finishing up when the phone rang. Thank God she had the power back on at least. She scooped to pick it up and saw Lynn’s number on the screen.

‘Hey, Lynn, you okay?’ She half-watched James pack up as she listened to Lynn chat about her morning.

‘Cool, chilled morning then, eh? That’s good. No, it’s been dead here, and…’ She went to tell her about the electrics, but stopped herself. Lynn didn’t need to be fretting about that. Hopefully things would be well underway by the time she was in next.

‘I’m about to head home myself to be honest. I’m going to take one of the machines to Cass’s and work from there. I haven’t had a customer all day.’

‘Do you think people saw the photos?’ Lynn asked tentatively. Well, she obviously had.

‘You mean the photos that humiliate me and show I wasted years of my life with a completely selfish arsehole? Probably, yeah. I’m guessing that this is what happened. Like people need another reason to avoid me. I mean, you don’t book a wedding planner who can’t keep a bloody man, do you?’ She spun around with the phone in her hand and saw that James was waiting by the door. He looked as though he was waiting… nay, hoping… for the zombie apocalypse to hit so he could be eaten alive by the undead. Obviously preferable to overhearing her tragic backstory.

‘Er, Lynn, a customer just came in. Yeah, I have to go. Speak to you later. Enjoy your weekend.’

‘Sorry, I wasn’t listening, honest. I just wanted to say goodbye properly. What time do you want to start tomorrow?’

‘Whenever, just let me know and I’ll be here to let you in.’

He nodded and opened his mouth as though to say something further. He looked like he was struggling to think of something, so she saved him.

‘Listen, James, is it?’ He smiled, his amused mouth twitching. ‘I’m just having a bad day. I promise to rein in the crazy for tomorrow. If you don’t want the hassle, I understand.’ She plucked a Post-it note off her desk and scribbled down her mobile number.

He took it, opened the door and went to leave. ‘See you tomorrow, Maria. I’ll contact you later. Stay hydrated.’

She sank back down into her chair, watching him walk off to his van. Stay hydrated. She huffed to herself, going to pack up a machine and some work for home.

‘As if a glass of water will sort me out, eh, Mum? I need more than that.’

She packed up and, making sure she’d locked up, carried her stuff to her waiting car. Getting in and cursing the crappy heating once more, she continued her conversation with her mother as she pulled away.

‘Stay hydrated!’ she snorted, shaking her head as she wove through the streets of Westfield. Driving past the vet’s, she passed Amanda on her way up to the house, a cat in her arms. She was walking a little strangely and, as she turned, Maria could see why as her little baby bump came into view.

She waved, and Amanda waved back cheerfully. Cow.

‘Well, did you see that? Benjamin Evans, going to be a dad. I never thought I’d see the day, did you, Mum?’ She drove down the main street, heading towards the cottage. ‘She looked well, though, didn’t she? Married bliss to the man of your dreams and a baby on the way. Own businesses. Pretty good going, isn’t it? At this rate, I shan’t even have the shop by Christmas.’ She drove the rest of the way in silence till she reached Cassie’s home. If her mother had been there, she would have told her to shut up anyway, and get on with it. So that’s what she would do. After a spell of vomiting and changing her bedsheets to rid them of the smell of the stranger she had bedded the night before. If she had to caption her life at the moment, #lifegoals #blessed wouldn’t be first choice. She would rock #epicfail #passthebarfbag, though.