Chapter Ten
Nate
Nate balanced the two coffee cups in one hand, the peppermint tea in the other and started what felt like an excruciatingly long walk back to Laurel’s office. He’d left them alone long enough and Alex could be… irritating? Annoying? Vindictive? All of the above?
That wasn’t fair. Alex had always been a good friend, even if his tendency to be a bit of a pompous dick hadn’t diminished over the years.
He was five paces away when the door swung open and Laurel bustled out, arms brimming with papers.
‘Woah,’ he said, as she nearly careened into him. ‘You alright? Where are you going?’
She was flustered, pale-faced and a little shaken. She was not calm, collected Manager Laurel. What the fuck had happened?
‘Uh, I’ve got to, um,’ she started, eyes flicking down the corridor.
‘What’s going on? Are you okay?’ He took a step towards her.
She tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘Nothing. I’m fine.’
The smile she had plastered on her face was not convincing.
‘Laurel, what—’ he started, but she held her hand up to interrupt him.
‘Look, I’ve told Alex I’ll show him around. Give him whatever he needs.’ She sighed and her shoulders dropped in defeat. ‘I need this funding, Nate.’
‘Yeah, okay,’ he said, still confused. ‘I’ll do what I can.’
Laurel nodded and hugged her papers to her chest before hurrying along the corridor.
‘Do you want your tea?’ he called, but her heels clattered as she headed down the stairs. What the hell was that?
Alex was playing some childishly loud, colourful game on his phone when Nate lowered the cups to the conference table.
‘So, old man, let’s see what you’ve got,’ Alex said, putting his phone on the table. Nate looked at him carefully, considering his friend.
‘What did you say to Laurel?’ he asked neutrally.
‘Nothing, you know how women can get.’ Alex waved his hand dismissively. ‘They’re sensitive, take things all the wrong way.’
Nate scratched his forehead in disbelief. How could Alex possibly have offended her in the five minutes Nate had been out of the office? How was Alex not able to be left alone with a woman without pissing her off?
‘She’s alright looking. I’d bang her, but—’
‘Alex! Come on man, don’t talk like that,’ Nate interrupted.
Alex scoffed. ‘Like what?’
‘Like women are a piece of meat there for your pleasure. It’s not the lads lads lads culture of the nineties anymore, mate. I’ve got to work here, be around Laurel all the time. Don’t piss her off. And for god’s sake, grow up a little bit. Be a professional.’
Alex rolled his eyes and swung his head like a toddler who hadn’t got their own way.
‘Alright, whatever, Nate,’ he said. ‘But, and don’t take offense here, she’s not very…’ he cast around for the right word, ‘exciting, is she? I mean, she’s a bit drab.’
Nate flinched. Laurel wasn’t drab. She was beautiful. Sure, she was highly strung and had an awful lot on her plate. In fact, he admired her for what she’d built at the farm and for the saving of Lower Houghton, especially because she was up against literally everybody.
‘You’ve got her wrong, Alex.’ Nate shuffled his papers.
‘What? You want to shag her?’
Nate placed his hands flat on the table. His jaw clenched and he narrowed his eyes at Alex. Had he not heard a word he said? They were too old for this shit. There was silence in the office as they looked at each other, some kind of power shift happening. Alex must have got the hint, because he pulled his chair closer to the desk and reached for some papers.
‘Do you want to show me what you’ve got then, old man?’
Nate spread the papers out and launched into his pre-prepared spiel about what they’d already found, his well-calculated assumptions for what else was there and how the British Archaeological Society could help. Alex nodded and made the right noises in all the right places. This was important to the site. If Alex threw the considerable weight of the British Archaeological Society behind the dig, the funders at the presentation he’d have to give would be practically throwing money at them.
If they had the funding, then they could stay on site indefinitely and explore the extremely promising Little Willow Farm site. The Fletchers, well, Laurel, would be able to relax a bit as well, which she could most definitely do with. They were friends now, weren’t they? They’d had a fun time together at the pub, and she was good to talk to. She was obviously fully invested in the site as well.
Alex was looking at him expectantly.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Aren’t you listening?’ he snapped. No, he quite obviously hadn’t been.
‘Sorry man, my mind was elsewhere,’ he said, leaning forward to study the finds list.
Alex rearranged some papers in front of him.
‘In between Laurel Fletcher’s legs I bet,’ he said under his breath.
‘For fuck’s sake, Alex,’ Nate said, louder than he would have liked. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s my friend, stop talking about her like that.’
‘She’s your “friend” is she?’ Alex actually used air quotes. ‘Man, the woman has got “fuck me” written all over her face.’
It was a gut reaction. Nate’s fist flung out and connected with Alex’s cheekbone before his mind could catch up and say, no Nate, this is not a good idea.
‘What the fuck, Nate?’ Alex was incredulous. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ He dabbed at his cheek with his fingertips, checking to see if the skin was broken. Which it wasn’t, obviously, because it was more of a bop than a full-blown punch, but still. He’d have a bruise.
‘I’m sorry, Alex, but I told you not to talk like that,’ Nate started, eyebrows high. He was sorry that he’d punched his friend, but not really sorry. Not at all. ‘It was an unthinking reaction.’
‘Whatever,’ Alex sneered. ‘Plain to see where your loyalties lie, with some woman you’ve known a matter of months, instead of your best friend who you have known for what? Ten years? Twelve? Fuck you, man.’
‘Alex.’ Nate ran his hand through his hair. ‘Do you want some ice for that?’
‘No, I don’t want fucking ice.’ He pushed the chair back violently. ‘I’m getting off this shit-filled farm.’
Nate held out the packet of papers he’d prepared for Alex. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and stuffed the packet into his battered satchel.
Fuck. He’d fucked this up. Big time.
‘Let’s talk at dinner, yeah?’ Nate winced, olive branch well and truly held out.
‘Whatever,’ Alex said, petulant to the last.
Nate couldn’t blame him. He had punched him in the face. So, there was that.
Alex stormed out of the office, the door shaking on its hinges as it whacked the wall where Alex had thrown it open.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What a massive fucking mess. If Alex hadn’t have behaved like a Neanderthal, kept pushing and pushing after Nate had told him again and again to give it a rest, he wouldn’t have exploded like that.
But there was no excuse. He only hoped he could salvage the friendship.
Alex was vindictive and stubborn, and he could choose to punish Nate, and by proxy, Laurel and Little Willow Farm. He could be unnecessarily harsh and fail to recommend the dig for funding. Nate knew his proposal was good, the finds were good, it was a significant site, and a boon for Alex to be involved with. He’d done enough of these to know what should be recommended for funding.
Nate didn’t want to think about what he’d have to do if Alex declined to throw the British Archaeological Society weight behind the dig. He’d have to report him for unprofessional behaviour, sexist comments, failing to carry out his professional duty, and would have to request another liaison. That would signal the end of Alex’s career in the Society, and Nate really did not want to be responsible for that.
He also did not relish telling Laurel what had happened. God, what a mess.
Alex may call himself his ‘best friend’, but Nate finally recognised that, over the course of ten years, Alex had become someone Nate no longer wanted, or needed, in a friend.
Laurel
The weather was turning, she could smell it as she trudged across the farmyard.
Laurel had been walking the grounds, ostensibly checking that everything was running smoothly, but really to clear her mind. The soft swaying of the wheat fields reminded her of simpler times before her mother had died, when it was carefree and fun and she didn’t have to deal with all of this, well, shit. There had been no accounts, no Countryside Stewardship Schemes forms, no professional development to worry about, no panicking about whether they’d make the wages run or not.
There was a school in the conference centre, the cafe was busy, the petting zoo was holding its own and the plants in the farm shop needed replenishing. Today was a good day for Little Willow Farm, except for the fact that her stomach curdled like sour milk at the thought of Alex in her office.
Oh. But he wasn’t in her office. There he was, striding angrily across the car park to his little banger of a Golf. He wrenched open the door and threw his old satchel onto the passenger seat before forcing his big frame into the little car.
Alex was leaving way too early.
Nate appeared at the door to the admin building and watched Alex’s car pull out of the car park. His hair was dishevelled as if he’d brushed it with his fingers. He sighed deeply and looked at his shoes. Laurel frowned. Something had happened.
Nate glanced around the farmyard, his eyes settling on Laurel, and he started over to her.
‘Hey,’ she said when he was in earshot. ‘What’s going on? Where’s Alex gone?’
‘Laurel, I’ve fucked up, but I’ll fix it,’ he said earnestly, mouth tight.
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘What do you mean, you’ve fucked up?’
‘Alex and I have had a bit of a…’ he hesitated, ‘disagreement.’
Her mouth pinched.
‘A disagreement? About what?’ Because if it was about the funding recommendation, then she would not be impressed.
Not. At. All.
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
‘Uh.’ A disbelieving little smile flickered across his face. ‘Well, it was about you, actually.’
Laurel paled. Because surely to God, they weren’t having a conversation about what happened ten years ago.
‘Well, not you you. It was women in general, and you happened to be the closest one.’ He sighed. ‘Alex is, well, he behaves like a fifteen-year-old boy sometimes, and I just, I couldn’t cope with it anymore.’
‘Right...’ she drew out the word, waiting.
‘He made a couple of rude, sexist comments and we’re friends, right?’ he gestured between the two of them.
Friends, yes. Laurel swallowed and nodded.
‘So, I kind of bopped him on the nose.’ He squeezed his eyes shut and screwed up his face.
Bopped him on the nose? Bopped him? What was that? Laurel’s eyes widened as recognition dawned. He hadn’t ‘bopped’ Alex at all. He had punched him. Punched the BAS liaison. Punched the person who very possibly held the future of Little Willow Farm in his hands.
‘Nate! You punched him? You punched Alex?’
Her stomach dropped, and she scrubbed at her face with both hands. This was the worst possible outcome. It would have been preferable for them to have had a good laugh about what had happened ten years ago, for her to be a laughing stock. But this? Ruining the chances of the site getting BAS recommendation for funding? This didn’t just affect her, this was the family, the farm, the village. Nate had ruined everything.
Nate gripped the top of her arms and stepped closer. ‘I’ll fix it, Laurel, I promise.’
‘You’ll fix it? God Nate, don’t fucking bother!’ Laurel wrenched herself away and took a few steps back from him. ‘You know, Nate, you know how important this is to me, and you’ve fucked it right up! He’s never going to recommend the site for funding now, is he? Never.’
‘Laurel, please. I know Alex. Let me talk to him, deal with him.’
‘What, like you dealt with him today?’ Laurel scoffed. ‘You just said we were friends, Nate, and I cannot trust you not to ruin this, not anymore.’
Laurel wilted like a dying sunflower. She had been completely mistaken in Nate. Completely. She thought he understood what she was trying to do at Lower Houghton. But to mess this up for her just showed that he didn’t give a fuck.
‘Laurel, please,’ he said again. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to him. The site deserves recommendation, and if he doesn’t give it then I will be having a very strong conversation with the BAS.’
What was she supposed to do? She could let him try and fix it, or she could try and fix it herself. But could she even do that? Alex probably wouldn’t even listen to her and she didn’t have any sway with the BAS. But she’d have to try.
‘I don’t know, Nate—’ she started, wrapping her arms around herself.
‘No,’ he interrupted. ‘This is my mess. Please, please let deal with it.’
‘What are you doing, Laurel? You’re in the way,’ Jack called, ushering a pig past her with a large stick.
For fuck’s sake. First Nate absolutely ruining the farm’s chances of funding recommendation, and now her stroppy big brother on at her as well. Great.
‘Oh, sorry, Jack.’
He was still in a mood with her, even though his and Rebecca’s marriage was literally nothing to do with her.
‘Are you alright?’ She couldn’t help herself asking.
‘Yeah, I’m fine, Laurel, just fine.’ Okay, so that meant he wasn’t fine. ‘Nate, hey man.’
‘Hey, Jack,’ he said.
‘I was just asking, Jack. No need to bite my head off.’ She crossed her arms across her chest.
‘I’m sorry. I’m just tired.’ He took a breath and stopped, letting the pig wander slightly. ‘Thanks, Nate, for the other night at the pub. Good chat.’
Oh, so it was Nate who had been to the pub with Jack. Were they now the bestest of friends? And had Jack opened up about him and Rebecca’s child discussions? That would actually be quite good for Jack, having someone to talk to, rather than just their dad. Or even worse, Robin.
‘I enjoyed it. Thanks for inviting me,’ Nate said.
Laurel sighed at the dark bags under her brother’s eyes.
‘You need a break, Jack. Why don’t I see if I can find cover for the weekend? I’ll have the kids, and you and Rebecca can go away somewhere nice?’ she suggested, knowing full well that it would never happen.
‘Who would you get to cover?’ He kicked at a couple of dandelions. She must remember to have the gardeners go around and tidy up.
She shrugged. ‘Robin, Dad, me? Everyone would muck in.’
That drew a smile from Jack. ‘You? Really?’
‘What?’ Laurel feigned hurt. ‘Just because I don’t, doesn’t mean I can’t milk as well as the rest of you.’ Although she wouldn’t, unless it was the very bottom of the last resort pile.
‘I’ll think about it,’ Jack said, giving her a half-hearted smile. He glanced around the farm. ‘Look, I know I give you a hard time, but I’m grateful that Rebecca has you for a friend,’ he mumbled, colour chasing up his neck.
Like their father, Jack was never good at expressing his feelings. Whatever Nate had said to Jack at the pub must have worked, must have made her brother revisit his long-held beliefs, have a little self-introspection.
Begrudgingly, Nate was good.
‘I love you too, big brother,’ she said.
‘Yep,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to get this pig back, the vet’s coming to check her udders.’
Laurel craned her neck to have a look. Yep, the telltale red swelling of mastitis.
‘Okay, see you later.’ And just like that, all was forgiven.
‘See you later,’ Jack said to both of them.
She turned back to Nate and took a long look at him. Laurel was so tired of having to do everything and maybe Nate would be better at dealing with it.
‘Two days. Two days and then I’ll have to dig the farm out of whatever hole you’ve managed to land us in.’
‘I promise, Laurel. I promise you won’t have to.’
Nate
Nate hated Laurel being upset with him. His chest ballooned hopefully every time he saw her, but she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, smile. He had to fix this, but sitting in the restaurant at the end of Lower Houghton High Street by himself with a bottle of chilled white wine was not a good look for Nate.
Alex was late.
Not particularly late, but late, nonetheless. He hadn’t replied to Nate’s text asking if he wanted to meet in the pub for one beforehand, so Nate had gone straight to the restaurant.
Eventually, Alex did turn up, fifteen minutes late. It was a deliberate power play, making him wait to show how displeased Alex was that he was no longer top billing for Nate, no longer able to get away with whatever he liked. There is no way in hell Alex should have been saying those things about anyone, especially not in a professional environment. If he told the British Archaeological Society, Alex would be fully reprimanded and an investigation would be started. Alex had to give his dig, and therefore Little Willow Farm, a fair crack at the whip. Also, if he fixed it, then Laurel wouldn’t be mad at him anymore.
The question was, would his friendship with him ever be repaired? Did Nate really want it to be repaired? Yeah, sure, he obviously still wanted Alex in his life, but they’d grown apart over the last few years. The thing was, Nate wasn’t twenty anymore and didn’t want the lifestyle that Alex peddled. If that was good for Alex, then brilliant. But it wasn’t good for him, and that was fine.
‘Nate,’ Alex said, dropping into the chair opposite. He’d already had at least two pints.
‘Hey, wasn’t sure you were coming,’ Nate said, signalling the waiter to bring another glass.
‘Of course I came,’ Alex said, snatching the glass from the waiter and slopping wine nearly to the brim. ‘Wouldn’t miss dinner with my best friend, even if he did punch me in the face.’
Nate sighed. Alex was always so combative and antagonistic.
‘Yeah, about that,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I punched you.’
‘I’m sorry you punched me as well.’
Okay, Alex was still being a douche.
‘But you get why, yeah?’ Nate pushed.
Alex took a long drink of wine.
‘Whatever man, it’s done now.’
So, he wasn’t going to accept any responsibility for his words, then.
‘Okay, done.’ Nate smiled tightly. Knowing Alex, it would be far from done. Alex never let anything go. He may profess to have forgotten things, but it would surface again years and years down the line, like how he had written the celebrated opening of their joint Pictish Stylus paper. In fact, the whole thing had initially been Alex’s idea, which was something Alex never let him forget.
‘Shall we order?’ Alex called the waiter over.
Then followed the most excruciating dinner he had ever had with Alex. He had tried. God, he had tried to fall back into that easy pattern of the two of them. But Alex’s jokes, his stories, his anecdotes were immature and ridiculous, involving people he didn’t know and didn’t care to know. Nate’s own stories were met with boredom and sometimes outright derision.
In the end, Nate sat back, enjoyed his seafood linguine and let Alex talk about whatever he wanted, giving appropriate responses when required. He could not wait for it to end.
‘So, Lucia’s coming back for Jess and Owen’s barbeque,’ Alex said, draining his glass.
‘Yeah, so Paul tells me,’ Nate replied, sipping his wine.
Alex looked surprised.
‘Oh, you speak to Paul?’ Was there a hint of jealousy there?
‘Now and again.’ Nate shrugged.
‘Lucia,’ Alex started, a predatory grin crossing his face. ‘Now there’s a real woman. Exciting, sexy, adventurous.’
‘Yeah, she’s all those things,’ Nate said neutrally. He wasn’t going to be baited into comparing Laurel with Lucia.
‘You know,’ Alex said, drumming his fingers on the table. ‘I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for Lucia.’
‘A bit? Alex,’ Nate laughed, ‘you drooled over her every time you saw her when we were together.’ He didn’t mention that Alex had tried it on with Lucia as soon as they’d broken up and she had turned him down hard and fast.
‘No, I didn’t. Whatever, Nate.’ Alex looked out the window. ‘God, this really is a one-horse town.’
‘I don’t know, I quite like it,’ Nate said, following his gaze. It was the homeliness, the couple of cottages that still had their thatch, the slightly ramshackle shops, the little church in the middle of town, the farm, the site.
‘Hmm,’ Alex pondered.
‘Do you speak to Paul at all?’ Nate inquired.
Alex shook his head.
‘Not really, he’s in Spain or something isn’t he? France?’
‘France,’ Nate confirmed.
‘I speak to Lucia all the time, we’re meeting up before Jess and Owen’s barbeque, you know, see how things go with the two of us,’ he said nonchalantly.
Ah, so that’s why he brought her up, an attempt to rub Nate’s face in the fact that he’ll be spending time with Lucia. Well, crack on, pal.
‘That’s great, Alex. Really good,’ Nate said genuinely. ‘If that’s what you want, I hope it works out for you.’
‘Well, just keeping it casual, you know?’ Alex said, ‘No pressure, no labels, keeping it loose.’ Which meant that Lucia probably had no idea about his plans for them.
‘Sounds great, Alex,’ Nate said. ‘Look man, I’ve got an early morning start, I’m going to see if the taxi is free to take me back to the farm. Dinner has been great.’
Alex looked at him like he’d grown two extra heads. ‘You’re not coming to the pub? It’s still an hour before closing?’
‘Nah, don’t fancy it.’ Nate stood, sliding his chair under the table. He placed some notes on the table to cover his half. ‘I don’t expect I’ll see you tomorrow. You’re not scheduled to come to the farm are you?’
It wasn’t really a question.
Alex eyed the notes warily. Nate had always paid for both of their meals when they’d been out the previous few times, and Alex was probably expecting a free ride again tonight. Nate had stopped at the little Sainsbury’s cash point to ensure he had enough cash to make a quick getaway if he needed to.
‘No, I’m not,’ Alex said, eyebrows raised at Nate, obviously waiting for an invite.
‘Alright, so I’ll hear from you about the funding recommendations, probably in a week or so?’ Nate asked, pointedly.
‘Oh that.’ Alex waved his hand dismissively. ‘I don’t know if I’ll have had enough time by then to go through everything.’
Nate raised one eyebrow.
‘I’m sure you will have. I mean, the society are going to want to know what happened today, aren’t they?’
Nate let that statement hang in the air. Even in Alex’s inebriated state, he should realise what Nate was getting at. If he was going to drag things out and make it difficult for Nate’s dig, then his unprofessional behaviour would be brought up. Christ, was he really blackmailing one of his oldest friends? No, just reminding him to do his job.
Alex’s face hardened. ‘Yeah, they’re going to want to know that one of their employees was physically assaulted.’
Nate considered his friend. God, he wasn’t very smart sometimes, was he? Nate leaned on the back of the chair.
‘They’re probably going to want to know the context of that as well. They’re going to want to know about the professionalism of their staff, their objectivity, their ability to do their job.’
‘Are you seriously choosing that girl over me? Do you seriously think I’m unprofessional? That I lack objectivity and am unable to do my job? All because of a couple of little comments, just banter between friends?’ Alex drained his glass.
‘I told you I didn’t want to hear it.’
‘You’re pathetic, you know that? You’ve gotten old, you’re flagging, you’re sinking into obscurity.’ Alex’s words slurred together.
‘I’m not twenty anymore, Alex, and I’m happy with that.’ He put his hands in his pockets. ‘I’m happy with my life, my choices.’
‘Whatever, man.’ Alex smirked. ‘You do you.’
‘See you at Jess and Owen’s barbeque, Alex,’ Nate said, shrugging on his jacket. ‘Look after yourself.’
Nate drew out his phone and scrolled to the taxi number but changed his mind. It was a nice night. The long walk would be good for him. He glanced up at the flat above the Post Office as he passed. A glimmer of light showed through the crack in the curtains and he wondered what Laurel was doing. Was it too late to knock on her door and tell her he’d sorted everything out with Alex? Yes, it was too late. It wasn’t like he was hitting her up for a one night stand.
But also, had he sorted everything out with Alex? Alex was mercurial and could never be trusted not to cut off his nose to spite his face. But Nate wouldn’t hesitate to cop to an assault charge for the chance to explain to the BAS why he did it in the first place.