‘This is indeed good,’ said Bon. It was full of pensioners, taking tea, eating big slabs of pie with cream on it. ‘Also, it’s not often I go somewhere where I’m the youngest in the room. Sky was right.’
‘Wise as well as lovely. Don’t close your heart off to her because of her age,’ said Erin.
‘Stop it,’ warned Bon.
‘The last time I was in the shop, there was a woman there who was making Sky quite uncomfortable. I stepped in, it cost me a bear,’ said Erin, pausing conversation to choose something to drink as the waitress appeared at her side.
‘Why was she making Sky uncomfortable?’ said Bon, when they’d ordered.
‘Apparently she was a bit of a bully at school,’ replied Erin, noticing a flyer on the table advertising a women’s friendship group on Tuesday nights. She took one, folded it and put it in her handbag to read later.
‘She mentioned someone called the Pennine Prowler, have you ever heard of him?’
‘Of course,’ said Bon.
‘I looked him up. Sky’s father was under investigation for the murders.’
‘I know,’ said Bon.
‘You did?’ She was going to ask why he’d never said, but that was Bon all over, not spreading business that wasn’t his to spread.
‘We all know that in the shop. It’s got nothing to do with Sky and no one I know believes it has anything to do with her father either, just idle gossip, people wanting to force jigsaw pieces into spaces where they don’t belong. What did she look like, this woman?’
‘Pretty, long blonde hair, expensive clothes, the same age as Sky but looks older.’
Friend or foe, the woman whom Sky wouldn’t make the bear for. One of the Sutton clan.
‘Is that why you brought me here?’ he asked, confusion claiming his features as he put the menu down.
‘No. Well, partly. You obviously told Sky about the divorce. She’s stopped calling me Mrs van der Meer at long last. I didn’t think it was fair she was deceived, Bon. Were you trying to put her off you by pretending you were out of bounds?’
‘Don’t talk rot,’ he said, a sneer wrinkling up his lip. She knew him though, better than he thought she did and she wasn’t talking rot, but she didn’t press it.
‘Anyway, I will be going back to my maiden name, so I don’t step on the next Mrs van der Meer’s toes.’
‘I doubt there will be another Mrs van der Meer,’ said Bon.
‘You are much too wonderful to die sitting on the reborn batchelor shelf.’
‘I didn’t say that I intend to sit on a shelf, or that I have been sitting on a shelf.’
Erin’s eyes widened.
‘Bon van der Meer, are you saying what I think you’re saying?’ She hadn’t expected that.
‘Don’t ask me to answer that question.’
‘I wouldn’t, even if I am dying to know, though, obviously.’
‘Nothing lasted; that’s as far as I’m prepared to go.’ He held up his palm to signal that the subject was at an end. He certainly wouldn’t have shared that no one made him feel inside like the young woman he saw every day; that was something he was trying to keep even from himself.
They gave their food orders to the waitress and as soon as she’d gone, Erin said, ‘I went to Molly’s club last night. At the teashop.’
‘The grief club?’ asked Bon, noticing that her tone was no longer playful but serious.
‘Yes. I’ve had a couple of failed attempts at walking in but I did it – eventually.’
He tilted his head at her. ‘You having trouble getting your head around things, bokkie ?’
‘You could say that,’ replied Erin. ‘I haven’t been completely honest with you, Bon. Only because I didn’t know where to start telling you what a car crash’ – ironic – ‘… what a… a nightmare it was with Carona. If ever you wanted revenge for what I did, you got it.’
Bon’s eyebrows lowered in annoyance.
‘I don’t want revenge,’ he said. ‘What happened to you?’ His voice softened. ‘Erin, are you going to tell me what you haven’t told me?’
‘I think, the night Carona died, she planned to take me with her,’ seemed a suitable starting point.
Astrid delivered the coffees to the table.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Venus. ‘A miracle. Someone else actually knows how to put the kettle on.’
‘Oy, you, less of your cheek,’ said Iris, chuckling quietly because Venus and her sarcasm amused her no end. She slipped a tiny bag of blue sweets and an even smaller blue teddy bear into a cracker and then tied up the open end with a bow of white ribbon.
‘Gender reveal crackers. I’ve seen it all now. I thought baby showers were over the top. What next?’ And she huffed a dry laugh.
‘In America they have “conception day” anniversary parties,’ said Venus, popping a blue combo into her cracker. ‘Three months after the baby is born they have a do and they reveal where the baby was conceived the year before.’
Iris’s breath hitched. ‘You’re joking.’
‘I’m not, am I Astrid? They have balloons shaped like tadpoles and eggs.’
‘They’re not right in the head,’ said Iris with a tut.
‘And they have a cake in the shape of a womb.’
Her expression was deadpan but Astrid couldn’t keep her face straight, and gave the game away.
‘You little bugger,’ said Iris. ‘Mind you, there’s many a true word spoken in jest.’
‘Give us all the occasions we can handle, that’s what I say,’ put in Astrid, who was working on some St Andrew’s Day crackers for November.
‘I don’t mind what daft things people celebrate if the cash is going into Joe and Annie’s pockets,’ said Iris. The trouble was, Joe and Annie were selling up and no one was sure if a new buyer would move the operation to the other end of the country. They’d been lucky having the Pandoros as bosses and it was likely new people would want to make their mark. They’d bring in their own new brooms to sweep clean; it would be the end of an era, and however much Annie and Joe said that they’d do their best to make sure they’d be looked after, they couldn’t guarantee it. Someone was walking around the building with Joe at that very minute: a potential buyer.
‘Have you thought any more about taking in a lodger?’ Iris asked Astrid, because she needed to change the subject before they all got down from thinking about what was to become of them.
‘Yes, I’ve shifted things around in the second bedroom. It’s big and sunny and has a right nice ensuite.’
‘Why would you want to have anyone move in? I thought Kevin left you plenty.’
‘He did, of course, Iris, but the house is so big for one. It’s expensive to heat and the council tax – oof! ’
Astrid didn’t have to let anyone share with her and she could afford the bills easily, but she didn’t want to sound pathetic admitting she was lonely.
‘I’m not telling you what to do,’ began Iris, about to tell Astrid what to do, ‘but do be careful who you let in to share with you, love. They might look decent but I’m sure Jack the Ripper had his charming side. And once they’re in, you might not get them out again.’
‘Look on the bright side, why don’t you, Iris?’ said Venus, wobbling her head.
‘I don’t want Astrid coming to work murdered.’ Iris wagged a wise finger at the young woman. ‘Yorkshire’s had more than its fair share of serial—’
‘Shh, I think they’re here.’ Venus sliced her hands in a ‘kill the conversation’ way. She could hear Joe talking to someone, working his way through the factory, his voice getting a little louder with every step.
Joe came into sight, behind him a man in a beige trenchcoat with a man-bag slung across his body. He didn’t smile when Joe introduced him to his ‘terrific workforce’. Iris took against him on sight. She would say later that he looked like a miserable Columbo. And as for that bag… She couldn’t get her head around the fact that men now had their own handbag ranges.
‘Is this all your staff?’ asked Manbag, his eyes dragging over the motley crew, who to his eyes appeared as an ancient crone, a child with too much attitude and an Amazon.
‘Yes, this is everybody, apart from my wife Annie of course, who can’t be here today. But in really busy times we have casual people we can call in to help or do the work from home. They’re all very reliable.’
‘Very reliable,’ repeated Manbag, as if he didn’t quite believe that.
‘Very,’ confirmed Iris, although she realised she shouldn’t speak, but she didn’t like Manbag’s tone. Joe gave her a censuring side-eye.
‘And that’s all you need in-house to produce the quantities you do?’ Manbag circled the assembled crew with his finger.
‘Yes,’ said Joe. ‘They are the best workers. You won’t find better.’
‘Hmm,’ said Manbag, sounding like Alan Sugar just after one of the Apprentices had told him how great they were and should be saved. ‘What are they working on?’
‘Gender reveal crackers,’ replied Joe. ‘You have an occasion, we can make crackers for it. The world is going crackers crazy. We’re exporting more and more these days as well as catering to rising UK sales: Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays, engagements, weddings, gender reveals—’
‘Conception anniversaries,’ threw in Iris, her face straight. ‘It’s the new trend, apparently.’
Joe gave her the full evil eye.
‘Ri-ght.’ Manbag turned; he’d obviously seen enough. Joe followed, but not before he’d pointed at Iris and then sliced his hand across his throat.
All three women paused and winced at each other.
‘I hope Manbag doesn’t buy it,’ said Iris. ‘I don’t think my heart could stand the excitement of working for him.’
‘If he does, you two will be out. My job will probably be safe, though,’ said Venus.
She was joking, but Astrid was inclined to believe her. He’d get rid of Iris, and from the way he’d looked at her… She’d seen that look too many times not to know what the significance of it was.
They ate and Erin talked and Bon listened to it all quietly, without question, until the end. She told him far more detail than she told Alex: Carona’s unfounded jealousy and possessiveness; her manic mood swings, too many good times spoilt by them, until there weren’t any to spoil any more. Only then did he comment.
‘I can’t believe all that was going on and you couldn’t come to me,’ he said. ‘At the very least, I could have given you some perspective and helped you get out of it sooner. And no, I don’t think you’re mad for believing that you could easily have been in danger. It isn’t unheard of for unbalanced people to think that if they can’t have you, no one else can.’
‘Don’t.’ Erin shivered. Hearing it from Bon made it too real.
‘You can’t allow her to live rent-free in your head, bokkie . You have to let her go, or she’s won.’
‘I’m trying, Bon.’
‘Have you thought about where you want to live next?’
‘I didn’t want to start looking until I had a buyer. I like this area. Little Kipping would be ideal, though the houses don’t come up that often, do they?’
‘No, but there are some new houses just outside Maltstone being built, behind the church,’ said Bon.
‘Are there? Ooh, I’ll check those out.’
‘You can always lodge with me, if they want you out quickly and you need some time to look around.’
Erin raised her eyebrows. ‘Back to the marital home?’ It had been the most beautiful house she had ever lived in. Bon had an old rectory, with a slow-moving river at the bottom of the garden. Layers upon layers of happy dwellers over many years had made up the calm essence of that house. She hoped she hadn’t lessened it for him.
‘Yes, if it helps. Don’t rush into buying something. I don’t want you making more mistakes. But there is plenty of room, as you know.’
‘That would set the gossip machine whirring.’
‘You’d be in the guest quarters,’ said Bon with a lopsided grin.
And she knew he’d do that for her and it humbled her all over again. She felt her body deflate, as if his generosity had punctured her.
‘I can’t forgive myself for what I did to you, Bon. You are—’
‘Erin—’ He cut her off, then she cut him off.
‘Let me finish, Bon. I want you to find someone who gives you the space to care for them. Unlike me; I always knew best. Except I didn’t.’
‘Erin—’ He tried again, and failed.
‘You are one of the best people I have ever met in my life. I don’t know how we did it but I am so glad you remained my friend. I’m not sure I could have been as forgiving—’
‘Erin, please shut up,’ and the tone of his voice said he really meant it.
‘Thank you,’ he said, when there was finally silence. ‘I never told you this because I thought it might… hurt, but maybe seeing as we are both in full disclosure mode then perhaps it’s right I should say it now. I was glad when you said you’d met someone else, because I had been trying to find a way for a long time to tell you that I wanted to end our marriage. I hadn’t found anyone else, for the record, but I wasn’t happy. I liked you, but I didn’t love you. Not in the way I should have as a husband. We were wrong for each other.’
He stopped speaking and let that sink in. Erin sat stock still, her mouth sliding open by degrees. In all this time she had never considered that might be a possibility.
‘I wasn’t even jealous. I was relieved that you felt the same as I did. I was happy you were happy, it wasn’t an act.’
‘Fuck. Me.’ Erin’s expression slowly segued into a smile loaded with her own relief. ‘I wish I’d known that.’
Bon shrugged. ‘Now you do.’
Erin felt whatever it was that had sat within her, jagged and scraping her insides raw, punishing herself on his behalf, suddenly lose its power to constantly remind her of its presence.
‘I have never wanted you to find someone to love more than I do at this moment,’ she said, beaming at him. ‘I don’t want you to be lonely.’
‘I’m not lonely in the slightest. I don’t mind my own company. Being alone and being lonely are quite different.’
That made Erin glad, that he was stable and content, but it would be a waste if he stayed alone, both for himself and for whoever the lucky woman might be who could share his life.
At the end of the meal, the waitress brought the bill and Bon snatched it up before Erin had the chance to. She scowled at him.
‘When you’ve sold your apartment and have lots of money in your bank, then you can buy me a burger,’ he said.
‘I take back everything I said about you. You’re a control freak.’
Bon reached across the table, took her hand and lifted the back of it to his lips.
‘This has been one of the best lunches we have ever had. I was glad to pay for the privilege,’ he said.