Chapter 2 #2
‘Bets. Don’t be like this. I want us to be friends. We need to talk.’ He gave her a sad smile and her heart bumped at the earnest expression in his eyes. ‘Actually I need to tell you something.’
Bets felt sick. Oh God, there was someone else.
He had a new woman in his life. Tilting her chin, she held on tight to the emotions inside her.
Any moment they would crumble, her face would crumple and she’d cry.
But not in front of him. She’d already spilled way too many tears about him.
Her pride wouldn’t allow her to cry in front of him.
‘Bets,’ he pleaded. ‘I could do with a friend. Don’t be like this.’
‘Like what? A recently dumped ex-girlfriend of nine years?’ Oh God, she sounded whiny.
She didn’t want to sound whiny; she wanted to sound indifferent.
She wanted to be Bets, the one that could cope with anything, that smiled through everything, the girl everyone loved because she’d do anything for anyone. Universally liked. Great at adversity.
Except maybe she was just a little sick of being that girl.
* * *
Jack cursed himself all the way home. Even Bets hated him now and she didn’t know what a massive balls-up of his life he’d made. Coming home had probably been a mistake, too, but when everything fell apart, it was the only place he wanted to be.
So much for a walk to help him straighten out the kinks in his back after sleeping on the back seat of his dad’s Land Rover. That’s what happened when you bolted home without warning anyone. No one home and no key under the doormat.
He sighed and turned into the gravel driveway.
Clocking that his mother’s sparkling Mini was sitting outside the front of the house, he gave an even bigger sigh and steeled himself to face the music, a full-blown concerto conducted with excessive percussion.
He hadn’t intended to come home, but … he needed to.
Needed the reassurance that some things in life were based on truth and decency.
If only everyone else was as honest and upfront as his own family and the people here.
He trudged up the stairs, pushed open the front door and almost immediately came face to face with his mother.
‘Jack, how nice to see you,’ she said with her own unique brand of sarcastic enthusiasm.
‘Hi, Mum, sorry, I should have let you know I was coming. There was—’
‘Yes, you should. If you had we would have left you a key. We went up to London to the theatre and stayed over at Ron and Sally’s.
Your father tells me you slept in the Landy.
’ She tutted. ‘At least you didn’t go waking Bets up – or did you try?
’ She gave him a quizzical look, glancing over his shoulder towards the family-owned barn conversion where he normally stayed with Bets when he was home.
His stomach dropped at the mention of Bets’ name, as he remembered the look of disdain on her face.
‘So how long are you staying?’ The million-dollar question.
‘Actually, Mum, the job in Bristol … didn’t work out. I was thinking about asking Dad if I can work at the surgery, in the short term.’
One of her eyebrows arched in surprise. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yes, it’s all fine. Just the job wasn’t what I thought it was going to be.
And there was a flood in the house in Bristol.
A pipe burst in the bathroom. The ceiling came down in the kitchen.
It’s all a bit of a mess and’—he lifted his shoulders helplessly—‘it’s …
going to take a little while to sort out.
’ That and everything else, he thought. The only reason he’d be going back to Bristol would be to collect the rest of his belongings.
‘What a shame about the flood. Will insurance cover it? I’m assuming no one was hurt.’
‘No,’ said Jack. Only feelings, he then thought to himself, and they didn’t count if you were a bloke, did they?
He’d made some terrible mistakes and they were coming back to bite him savagely now that he’d discovered that the foundations of his uni friendships had dry rot.
Which left him questioning his own judgement.
‘Well, then, an extra pair of hands is always useful. In fact I can ask you to—’ The urgent beeping of the oven clock interrupted her, although Jack was pretty sure whatever task she had in mind for him would not be forgotten.
His mother, a veteran chair of the WI, always had something on the go and had always counted on her sons and husband as her personal lackeys whenever she needed them.
Looking trim in her low-heeled court shoes, neat skirt and co-ordinating blouse, his mother trotted off and Jack gave her a fond smile. If she’d ever joined the army she would most definitely have been a field marshal.
‘Oh, by the way, I had your father drop off your overnight bag at Bets’. I presume you’ll be staying with her.’
Before he could say a word, she’d vanished into the kitchen.
Shit! He threw his head back and looked at the painting high on the wall.
An old-fashioned picture: three English setters sitting to attention, an older dog and his two pups – like the Ashcrofts, Dad and two sons, destined to carry on the family veterinary practice.
It reminded him of the original plan – to come back and join the family veterinary surgery – which had once seemed so stultifying and pre-ordained, yet now he couldn’t imagine why he’d fought so hard against it.
His dad had been great when he’d told him he wanted to pursue a different path. And now he was back here with his tail between his legs.
He hurried after his mother. ‘Mum, there’s something I need to tell you.’
She was midway lifting a pie out of the oven.
‘Bets and I have split up.’
The pie slipped out of her hands and crashed to the floor, the earthenware dish shattering on the terracotta tiles. She straightened and stared at him, her eyes glazed with shock.
‘Oh,’ she said, her brow wrinkling. ‘You do know I’ve turned your old room – I’ve turned it into a sewing room and it’s full of tablecloths that need hemming.
I got rid of the bed in there.’ She drew in a thoughtful breath.
‘I’ll have to get your father to see if we still have the camp bed up in the loft. ’
* * *
Untangling herself from the two dogs bumping against her legs, Bets squeezed through her front door, unclipped their leads and stripped off her shoes, socks and trousers. She had time for a quick shower and change before she headed back to the practice for afternoon surgery.
‘What the—’ She narrowly missed squashing Tess as she tripped over something in her path, but still ended up on her knees, bashing the right one hard on the stone flag floor. Today was turning out to be crap.
Rubbing her knee she turned and sat down. ‘What!’ she spat, glaring at the familiar leather overnight bag that was parked in the middle of her hallway. ‘No way. No way on God’s earth. No way in hell freezing over on every day of the week for the next ten centuries.’