Chapter 20
ELIZA
Nine o’clock and time for Eliza’s break – but not before turning away a lad who wasn’t even shaving yet, reminding him he’d get into trouble if he was late for school tomorrow.
‘Nicely played,’ said Jules, and she raised her hand for a high five.
Eliza’s palm pressed against hers and they both smiled.
She’d discovered lots of common ground with Jules.
They both loved Grace and Frankie on Netflix, and Jules loved gardening and dance too, and took Latin dance classes with her boyfriend.
Eliza hummed as a K-pop song came on, tempted to hit the dance floor instead of eating her dinner.
Jules was still shadowing her on reception, but said that next week Eliza would work alone.
So far tonight she’d spotted two underage customers who’d slipped past security and she’d ignored the usual stares from people surprised to see someone more like their gran behind the counter.
With a withering look she’d also made one woman blush to the roots of her perm for telling Eliza to eff off when she asked for her ID.
As for the bunch of partygoers who’d shouted out offensive anti-minority comments…
‘Eliza, you’ve got a knack for politely talking people out of the building,’ Jules had said.
Indeed, in a measured tone, she’d told them The Niterie was a prejudice-free zone and suggested they take their comments elsewhere, otherwise she’d be forced to record them and call the police, and she wouldn’t want to ruin their night.
‘People don’t like authority figures,’ Eliza had said to Jules. She used to be married to one. She should know. ‘I only bring out the less polite Ms Bossy when there’s no other option.’
‘Do tell me more,’ she said.
So Eliza told her how she’d navigated life as a single woman after her husband’s death – she said no more about Howard than that, not how standing up to him, when it mattered, had brought back the Eliza of her youth, and the girl she used to be who would throw spiders at the boys when they ran through the grass birds’ nests she and her primary school friends had built; the teenager who’d bitten a boy’s tongue for forcing a kiss on her and trying to take it too far.
Jules heard those stories and couldn’t stop laughing.
Eliza explained how knowing your rights, and appreciating the respect you deserved, were key, and that angry people couldn’t cope with a cool, well-judged reaction.
She always read up on the cars she owned, so that mechanics couldn’t overcharge; the same with getting full quotes for work.
She never would have employed a builder like next door had who, she imagined, didn’t run extra work past his clients before going ahead.
She’d politely remind door-to-door salesmen that refusing to leave was trespassing, and more than once followed through on her threat to call the police.
Given all that, it was strange that Eliza had put up with so much disruption from the builder, for so long. Or maybe it wasn’t strange at all. He’d reminded her of Howard too much. Every bang and shout, every glare; talk about triggering.
Thank goodness for buying Carrie’s life – not for helping Eliza leave the stressful situation at her bungalow, but for helping her find the gumption to go back and take control again; for helping her to remember who she was.
Eliza left the reception area, smiled at Jez behind the bar and headed past him to the staff room.
Her stomach gave a rumble as she got her sandwich out of the fridge, fetched a plate and sat down whilst the kettle boiled.
Eliza checked her phone. A message from Ariana!
Would Eliza like to meet her and Rae for drinks early evening tomorrow – the same pub as before in Reddish?
Ariana would have finished work by then, and Rae had the day off.
Carrie often had Fridays off and Ariana had wondered if Eliza did. If not, they’d arrange another time.
How lovely!
‘So who’s this “Ms Bossy” Jules has told me about?
’ said Jez as he strutted into the staff room, in time to a tune the guest DJ had just put on.
This was the only part of the inside of the venue not done out in black and purple, with its magnolia walls and black-and-white-check floor tiles.
Visible outside the back window were a large backyard and a storage shed.
‘Only very naughty people get to see her,’ Eliza said.
‘Oh yes?’ Jez grinned and winked before taking her hands, pulling her up, and making her dance with him to imaginary music. He closed his eyes, shaking his head, humming, hips swivelling, looking at her finally with a grin on his face.
For once she lost her rhythm, heat rising up her neck, yet she couldn’t stop laughing, touched at how gently he gripped her fingers.
‘I’m all for being a bit bossy,’ he said.
‘It took me years to build confidence. In my twenties I did what Carrie has done – upped and went abroad, leaving behind a good job. Until then I’d always found it hard to disagree with friends or my parents, to stand my ground at work, fight my corner in any kind of argument, allowing people to walk over me.
That changed when I had to manage totally on my own.
Toughened me up in the best way, I reckon. ’
‘You mean, deep down, you’re just a softie?’ she asked gently.
They smiled at each other and his face reddened.
‘I… I used to find it hard to stand up for myself too,’ she found herself saying. ‘Life taught me the hard way that you have to, because no one else will, not day in, day out. You have to be your own protector, your own bodyguard; if you don’t look after yourself, everything else falls apart.’
Jez looked serious now and nodded. She nodded back, feeling a connection.
‘You speak a lot of sense, Ms Woods.’
Her heart… did it skip? Was that what it was? A romantic sensation? She didn’t know. But something oh-so-right happened inside that hadn’t for so long. She adjusted her large, purple-rimmed glasses, sat down and bit into her egg and tomato sandwich.
‘Crisp?’ she said and offered her packet.
Jez studied it and sat down. ‘You had me at prawn cocktail Skips. I still love all those snacks I’d have in the eighties, like Scampi Fries and Nice ‘N’ Spicy Nik Naks.’
‘Discos were my favourite back then.’ She offered him another crisp.
‘Jules reckons you’re ready to work without your shadow now,’ he said.
Eliza wiped her mouth and gave a thumbs-up. ‘“Shadow of a Man” is a great song by Lady Gaga to dance to. I heard it for the first time tonight.’
Jez cocked his head. ‘So tell me, Eliza. What’s your secret? To staying young at heart? Not that I need tips, obviously.’
‘Obviously,’ she said and rolled her eyes, making him chuckle. ‘Is it young at heart? Or is it simply me being me? I don’t overthink it.’
Jez made the two of them coffee. ‘Fair point,’ he said and sat down again, running a hand through his hair with pop star panache.
‘Yet certain things hold me back. Dodgy joints. Acid reflux. A tendency to look into the past and wish I could do certain things again, like…’ His face lit up.
‘When I left the UK in my twenties, I spent a carefree summer in Ibiza, driving convertible jeeps and jet skis, skinny-dipping, and kissing on the beach, not worrying about sun cream or getting up early for work in the morning; like laughing so hard over nothing with mates when we’d had a few drinks, until we couldn’t breathe.
The joy. The naivety. The belief that none of that would ever end. ’
Eliza sipped her drink, trying to remember the last time she’d opened up as honestly as Jez was now.
It was 2001. Chelle next door. Not long after Howard was found dead.
‘Oh, Eliza, what a shock for you,’ she’d said, insisting Eliza come into her home for a drink before starting to sort out the house’s contents, ahead of a sale.
‘Yes. I loved him once. But then he changed.’ Her eyes had met Chelle’s. ‘He used to hit me, you know? He told me I was worthless, that no man would ever love me like he did.’
Tears had run down Chelle’s cheeks. ‘I’d realised something wasn’t right,’ she’d whispered. ‘When I saw the bruises, I tried to help but—’
‘I know, and I wish I’d reached out, but I was too scared to accept your involvement – or say any of this. It’s all right. You’ve been a good neighbour, Chelle. Thank you so very much.’
Eliza’s cheeks had remained as dry as the paperwork she’d signed to put their house on the market, its value and all their worldly belongings about to give her a new life…
Back in the present, she bit her lip and looked Jez straight in the face.
‘Maybe that’s the difference. I haven’t wanted to repeat a single bit.
It’s been all about a brand-new future for me.
My husband died when I was fifty. Finally I got to live my own life free from…
’ She paused. The truth, said out loud to someone else for the first time in all these years…
Was she brave enough? Would Jez understand?
She looked again at his kind face, at the honest, open eyes that had confided in her about being walked over when he was younger.
He’d trusted her and somehow Eliza felt she could trust him too.
Her chin trembled. ‘Free from fear. Free from consequences.’
Her chair scraped and she stood up, heart pounding, and she went to the sink. Eliza washed her plate, having already said too much, but there was something about Jez’s way that made her feel… safe.
A hand curved around Eliza’s shoulder. He turned her around gently. Anger had hardened his features, but her gaze softened it.
‘I’m sorry you had a difficult time,’ he said.
‘It’s okay,’ she said, forcing her voice to steady.
‘And boy, have I changed since then. I’ve learnt a lot, about putting myself first, grabbing opportunities and making the most of every joyous moment away from him.
The number one thing has been about being able to survive totally on my own; about never being dependent on another person ever again. ’
‘Did you meet anyone else? Are you with someone now?’
‘You’re joking. Why would I risk that? I haven’t been with anyone since I left my husband twenty-five years ago, just before his death. Not so much as a date out. No siree.’
Jez gaped. ‘What? Not even a cinema trip? Eliza!’
‘No big deal. I happily go to the pictures on my own. So…’ She gave an awkward smile. ‘How about you?’
He picked up his mug and knocked back the rest of his coffee. ‘I’ve been on far too many dates to talk about now – and most of those women would probably say what a relief it was when they ended.’
Eliza couldn’t help laughing and her insides melted, just a little.
‘Come on. Back to work, Ms Woods. How are you finding the late nights?’ He held up a hand. ‘Not being ageist! They tax me, and even young Zak in the kitchen yawns more than he talks.’
Eliza put her plate away in one of the cupboards. ‘Fine. It’s really only challenging when I’m up early to pop into work in the mornings.’
Jez raised his eyebrows. ‘You picked up Carrie’s cleaning job too? Wow. You’re a fitter person than me.’
‘No. I haven’t got time for that. There is one particular thing that’s kept me active all these years. You see, I run my own business.’
‘Really? You’re full of surprises – or maybe I assume too much, like you being retired. See? Is it any wonder I’ve gone through dates like our customers go through cheap shots?’
‘Retirement without a passion is like an oasis without water. Flowers are my passion, always have been, even during those years married when no one ever bought them for me. When Howard was gone, I realised it was a mistake to think you only deserved a bouquet if someone bought it for you. So I set up my own florist shop in the heart of Bramhall. We should never wait to be gifted the things we love.’ She beamed.
‘That’s why I called it Flowers For One. ’