Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
I t was half past eleven on Sunday morning. Saul Fielding lay fully dressed on top of his unmade bed, gazing up at the miserable grey skies through the skylight. He’d already been up for hours. He’d surprised his family – and himself – by appearing downstairs at half past eight and demolishing a fair old stack of pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup for breakfast. Carbs, of course, were the best hangover cure known to man; it had been worth the effort to drag himself out of bed.
Now, though, his whole body had begun to protest about its rude awakening in every way possible. Levering himself up and lurching to one side, he fumbled in the bedside drawer and located by feel a squashed packet of paracetamol. Last night’s water stagnated in the glass; it would have to do. Swallowing two tablets with the water, Saul made an ‘urgh’ sound, and flopped onto his back.
This extra rest time was essential if he was going to appear compos mentis by lunchtime. There’d be no getting away with it. Mum and Dad made a big thing about the family eating together, especially Sunday lunch when it was always a roast. Mum was a fab cook, though, and Dad wasn’t at all bad at conjuring up his speciality, Yorkshire pudding. Saul wouldn’t have any trouble getting stuck in.
Clayton was coming to lunch, apparently. It seemed a bit sad, a man of Clayton’s age living alone and having to cook for himself all the time. That wouldn’t happen to Saul. No way. But life had a habit of kicking you in the teeth, as it must have done to Clayton. Saul didn’t know the details but he did know he’d had a serious girlfriend a while back until it had all gone arse upwards. And then he’d been dealt another blow when he’d lost his sister in that tragic way, which was just about the cruellest thing you could think of. Saul’s kid sister, Katy, might be a permanent pain in the butt, but he’d be devastated if anything like that happened to her, or to any of his family.
Saul sighed. Who knew how life would turn out? Perhaps he would end up on his own. Just think of that. Saul thought; he didn’t like it much. Which brought his mind neatly back to his current preoccupation. Girls. Or girl , if you wanted to be picky about it. The thing was, knowing how shitty life could get made you realise you shouldn’t prat about wasting precious time. If you wanted something – or some one – you should just go for it, which was exactly what he intended to do, as soon as she came home for the Christmas holidays.
Holly Engleby.
He’d known her like forever – her family had lived in Charnley Acre almost as long as his – but only in the way that he’d seen her around the village, with other kids, and at birthday parties and stuff. They hadn’t been at school together because she’d gone to an all-girls’ school, otherwise they might have been proper friends. She’d been a regular at the youth club, same as him, but even then he hadn’t clocked how wonderful she was. Too busy smoking illicit fags round the back of the hall, probably.
Then, once they’d all kind of grown up, there she was, all golden-blonde hair and big blue-grey eyes, like a shining new star that had just come out in the sky. Other girls he’d fancied – been out with, in some cases – had seemed to fade away into the background. She’d got flirty with him, sometimes, but everyone flirted with everyone else. It didn’t mean a lot – it was just what you did – but he couldn’t ignore the way Holly seemed to single him out. It was his bad luck that just as he’d been working his way up to asking her out on a proper date instead of just messing about in a crowd, she’d taken herself off to Birmingham uni to study English Literature or something.
She’d come home for a week in October, which was when it had truly begun. With the cold weather closing in, the Goose and Feather had become the regular hang-out spot – it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to go if you wanted to keep it local – and Holly had been there, almost every night. The Goose had a back room with a pool table, and mostly everyone gravitated out there.
Even when they were amongst the crowd, having a laugh, sometimes he’d felt like it was just the two of them. He’d hoped Holly felt that way too. All the signs that she did were there: the private smiles she gave him from across the room; the way she’d appear by his side when he went to the bar and they’d talk for a while, before they rejoined the others.
And then, on her last night – his heart rate increased as the memory flooded in – they’d gone for a wander in the dark, down the lane that ran alongside the pub, and, naturally, they’d had a bit of a snogging session. Well, more than a bit, as it went. He’d known then for absolute certain that she really liked him.
They’d already had each other’s numbers in their phones, because everyone did, and once she’d gone back to uni, he’d texted her a couple of times right away, just jokey stuff, and she’d texted back a few words each time. It wasn’t much to go on but it was enough to give him hope that when she came home for the Christmas holidays, they’d pick up where they’d left off.
It had felt like a total gift – a bloody miracle – when he’d found out he’d be spending three whole weeks in Holly’s garden. He could have kissed her mother. Well, no, he couldn’t – that would be seriously weird. He’d leave that to Clayton who, if Saul wasn’t hugely mistaken, was well up for the task. He’d seen the way Clayton looked at Laura Engleby, like he couldn’t take his eyes off her. And again, if he wasn’t mistaken, Laura was the same with Clayton. Pity she was going out with that posh bloke who drove the BMW, but that needn’t be an obstacle, providing everything else was right.
Saul chuckled to himself. Right on cue, he heard the unmistakable noise of the Green and Fragrant van pulling up outside. Getting up from the bed, he bounded downstairs.
Saul had left his car in the village last night. He’d totally forgotten about that until he happened to glance out of the window during lunch and noticed that his usual parking space in front of the house was empty. His fault, of course, for having been too idle to walk to his mate George’s house in the first place. There’d been a bit of a gathering there because George’s parents were away for the weekend. It hadn’t been that great, actually; all sitting about and nothing much to do except drink. He couldn’t wait until Holly came home, then he’d have more exciting nights out to look forward to.
Everyone sat around after lunch, reading the Sunday papers and chatting, apart from Katy, who was in the den with one of her mates, playing some annoyingly squeaky computer game. Around three, Clayton made a move to leave, and Saul took the chance to blag a lift to George’s house to collect his car.
Clayton was quiet at the start of the journey, quieter than usual. Not that there was a lot to say, seeing as they were together most days anyway. As they drove down the hill, they passed Spindlewood, and Saul noticed a slowing of the van as Clayton took a hard look towards the gates.
‘What’re you smiling at?’ Clayton said, speeding up again.
‘Oh, nothing.’ Saul smothered the grin.
Actually, this might be a good time to gather a little advice.
‘Do you think long-distance relationships can ever work?’ he said, trying to sound dead casual.
‘I don’t know, I’ve never tried one,’ Clayton said. ‘I guess it depends on whether the feelings between the people concerned are strong enough. Why? Ah, hang on. This wouldn’t be anything to do with the toothsome Holly Engleby, would it?’
Now it was Clayton’s turn to grin. Saul wished he hadn’t asked. What sort of a word was toothsome , anyway?
‘Not necessarily,’ he said, feigning nonchalance. ‘I’m talking theoretically.’
‘Theoretically.’
‘Yes, I said.’ Saul looked at Clayton’s amused expression in the mirror, and sighed. ‘Okay, yes. Holly. Have it your way.’
Clayton slowed the van as they rounded the bend and entered the high street before he answered. ‘You do know she’ll have loads of opportunities while she’s at university? And I don’t need to tell you what sort of opportunities. As will you, when you start agricultural college.’
‘That’s not till next September, and in any case I’ll be living at home. It’s hardly the same thing. So, you’re saying that, like, even if she’s really into me it won’t stop her looking elsewhere?’
‘I’m not saying she would. I know nothing about her. But unless you’re in a committed relationship, it’s on the cards, isn’t it? Sorry, I don’t want to pour cold water on your romantic ambitions but…’
‘Yeah, yeah, it’s cool.’ Already Saul had had enough of this conversation. It was starting to get embarrassing. ‘Forget I said anything.’
‘She’s a lovely girl, though,’ Clayton said. ‘I’m not surprised you like her.’
‘And I’m not surprised you like her mother.’
He could have bitten that back. Since when did he discuss his employer’s love life – or lack of – with him? But Clayton didn’t seem in the least bit fazed. He just laughed, which told Saul one hell of a lot more than if he’d answered directly.
‘Where’s this car of yours then?’
‘Turn left by the church, up Caburn Street, then it’s a sharp right. What’re we doing tomorrow?’
‘Couple of pruning jobs at Kingston, then over to Ringmer to plant some new shrubs. I’ll pick you up at ten by the bus stop. Later on, it’s Spindlewood but I can do that on my own, otherwise it’ll mean you hanging about in the meantime.’
Saul could have asked why they couldn’t go straight on to Spindlewood from the previous job and avoid any hanging about . He didn’t though. Sometimes it was best not to push it.