Chapter 19
A s I sat at the till awaiting my next customer, I needed something to kick start me into picking up my needles. Page after page, I flicked through a pattern book hoping inspiration would strike. I slapped it shut. Nothing grabbed my attention.
I opened the paper bag that had lain untouched on the counter since lunch.
Made with the freshest ingredients, it seemed even The Beanery’s mushroom, mozzarella and pesto sandwich couldn’t lift my spirits.
I grimaced, discarding it again. With zero appetite, I wondered why I’d bought it in the first place.
My mind and body were clearly reeling from the emotional roller coaster I’d been on.
I let out a loud frustrated growl. Christmas was fast approaching.
I should have been looking forward to cosying up with Gideon in front of the fire, eating my body weight in chocolate and stocking up on tissues ready for when Alan Rickman does the dirty on Emma Thompson.
Instead, I was having to wrap my head around marriage proposals, hospital dashes, reruns of Gran’s death, and a clandestine dance with Alex.
I cringed… especially the dance with Alex.
I recalled the feel of his hand in mine, the gentle pressure on my lower back, and rhythm of Alex’s heart as I rested my head against his chest. Like magic, he’d drawn me into his gaze to the point I was transfixed.
No man had ever looked at me with such fervour.
Not even Gideon when hours earlier, he’d been about to propose.
Alex both scared and excited me, when what I needed was to feel safe.
Safe? Where’s the fun in that? Gran asked.
Refusing to answer her, I shook my mind free. Knowing I’d have to confront everything and everyone at some point, I was determined to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.
Picking up my phone, I checked the screen, wondering if I should message Joyce for an update on Richard.
The last I’d heard he was waiting for more test results.
Reassuring myself with the adage no news is good news, I put my phone back down.
The last thing my friend needed was me bothering her; she’d be in touch when she was ready.
I frowned. As would Gideon. Having had no contact from him since he’d dropped me at the hospital, I wondered what he was playing at. For all he knew I could’ve been helping Joyce plan a funeral.
No matter how hard I tried to understand, the same question kept popping up in my mind. Why would Gideon not be there for the woman he wanted to marry?
An image of Alex guiding me to a seat at the bar intruded my thoughts. I sighed. Why would a man who hardly knew me ensure he was?
The shop bell signalled a welcome interruption, and I looked up to see George Farrington Senior make his entrance.
Taking in his oil-stained overalls, my smile froze as I spotted the brown envelope in his hand.
Dreading the invoice it no doubt contained, was one thing.
The thought of getting a massive bill with no van to show for it was something else.
I wrinkled my nose in anticipation. ‘Did you manage to fix her?’
George tottered towards me. With his years obviously taking their toll, it was a miracle he could still get himself in and out from under the vehicles in his workshop. He rummaged in his pockets for Beryl’s keys, grinning as he held them up for me to take. ‘She’s as good as new.’
Relief swept over me. Although picturing Beryl’s numerous rust spots and torn interior, we both knew his claim was somewhat of an exaggeration.
‘Thanks, George. Being without Beryl has been like having no legs.’ I didn’t have a clue what I’d have done if George hadn’t been able to work his mechanical magic.
No way could I have afforded to replace her.
‘She’s also had a full service so I shouldn’t be seeing her for a while.’
Were George not in his work clothes, I’d have hugged him.
‘She’s parked up on the street outside the garage. Collect her when you’re ready. As for this…’ He placed the envelope down on the counter. ‘There’s no rush. Any time in January suits me.’
In addition to a hug, I could have kissed him.
The shop bell rang again, and my eyes widened in surprise. The last person I expected to see was Joyce. ‘What are you doing here?’ I raced from behind the counter and threw my arms around her. ‘Please tell me it’s good news.’
‘Time for me to go, I see.’ Making his exit, George paused. ‘Glad to hear Richard’s still with us,’ he said to Joyce. ‘A bit of a close call there, by all accounts.’
‘You can say that again,’ she replied. ‘I’ll pass on your best wishes.’
He placed a hand on Joyce’s arm. ‘Please do.’
Joyce waited until the door had closed behind George before speaking. ‘I can’t believe that man’s still working. I wonder what his secret is? He’s got to be well into his eighties.’
‘Maybe he loves his job?’
‘Or maybe he doesn’t trust his son to run his business properly?’ She dipped her chin as if in the know.
‘If they’re not already, people will be talking about you soon,’ I said, turning the tables on her tittle-tattle. ‘They’ll be wondering why you’re not at the hospital tending to your sick husband.’
‘I’m not at the hospital because Richard has been discharged.’ Joyce stood tall. ‘He’s back home thumbing the pages of his cookbooks as we speak.’
I breathed a sigh of relief.
‘His follow-up blood tests and electro-whatever-gram show everything’s back to normal.’
‘That is good news.’
‘He’s a bit tired thanks to all the excitement, of course. But the doctor assures us there’s nothing to worry about moving forward.’
‘Well, tell him from me there’s to be no more foraging.’ I retook my position behind the till.
Joyce laughed. ‘I think he’s learnt his lesson.’ Her gaze fell on my Beanery sandwich bag. ‘Do you plan on eating that? Or is it just for decoration?’
I slid it towards her. ‘When you say “back to normal”, does that include being back…’
‘In the kitchen?’ Joyce nodded. ‘Unfortunately.’ The shop doorbell rang as she tucked in.
‘What are you doing here?’ Erin called out. Someone else I didn’t expect to see that day, she hastened forward and threw her arms around Joyce.
‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’ Joyce asked.
‘Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?’ Erin replied.
‘You can relax,’ I said. ‘Richard’s home, safe and sound.’
‘Thank goodness.’ Erin dumped her bag on the counter.
‘I don’t think I could cope with any more excitement.
I’ve just been to see Mum. She’s only gone and bought herself a smartphone.
Thanks to the lad next door, I might add, who, no doubt, put the idea into her head.
Those two are developing quite a friendship.
’ She filled her cheeks with air and slowly exhaled.
‘She hasn’t stopped ringing and texting, no matter how many times I tell her I’m in a meeting or with a client.
’ Erin shook her head. ‘I feel awful spoiling her fun. But after one too many memes, I had no choice but to go round and give her the hard word.’
‘How did she take it?’ I asked.
‘All right, I think. I’ve left her with Duolingo for company.
Since digging out those letters, she’s decided to brush up on her long-forgotten French.
’ Erin took another deep breath as if centring herself.
‘That’s enough about me and my problems.’ She turned to Joyce. ‘How’s poor Richard really doing?’
Mid-mouthful, Joyce swallowed. ‘Like I said, he’s back to normal. Aside of a bit of tiredness, you’d think the other night never happened.’
Erin indicated Joyce’s between-meal snack. ‘That alone tells me all I need to know.’
‘Yes, well, that’s why I’m here. Catching you both at the same time has saved me a job.’
Erin and I looked to each other, curious.
‘Richard wants to say thank you for coming to the hospital the other night. For being there. As do I, because honestly, you two, I don’t think I’d have got through it on my own.’
‘Like I said, that’s what friends are for,’ Erin said.
‘You mean sisters,’ I said, with a smile.
‘It was so hard seeing him like that,’ Joyce carried on.
‘And the guilt… When I think about all the things I said about murdering him.’ She delved in her handbag for a tissue.
‘I’m surprised you weren’t tempted to ring the police.
’ She wiped her hands of pesto and mozzarella.
‘Anyway, by way of a thank you, Richard would like to invite you to dinner.’
As she looked from Erin to me and back again, clearly awaiting our response, we took a moment to let her words sink in.
‘Gideon too. Considering we ruined your date night, Hattie.’
‘That’s very kind of Richard,’ Erin finally said.
‘Very kind,’ I said.
‘I know what you’re thinking. That after all my complaints about his food I’m putting you both in a bit of a predicament.’ Joyce tilted her head. ‘But accepting his invitation would mean a lot to Richard. And to me.’
Erin and I stared back at her, neither of us knowing quite how to respond.
‘The thing is,’ Erin said, clearly thinking on her feet. ‘I do have a lot of work on at the moment. Did I tell you about the office restructure?’
‘And I’ve got so much to do around here.’
Joyce followed my gaze around the customer free shop.
‘You know what December’s like,’ I said. ‘A stampede can happen at a moment’s notice.’
‘Nice try.’ Joyce looked from me to Erin. ‘Both of you. But I’m not taking no for an answer.’
‘A minute ago, she called us friends,’ Erin said.
As I stood chuckling, the shop bell rang for a third time and looking to see who had arrived, my laughter immediately stopped.
Alex paused in the doorway, evidently surprised to see Erin and Joyce present. His eyes met mine, but neither of us spoke.
Erin looked from me to him and sensing something afoot, she turned to Joyce. ‘Come on. Time for us to go.’
Joyce appeared bemused. ‘Where to?’
Erin glared at Joyce, willing her to get the message, but telepathy clearly wasn’t in either woman’s skill set. Erin leaned in and lowered her voice. ‘Anywhere that isn’t here.’
Joyce now looked from me to Alex. ‘I see.’ Her apparent confusion, however, showed that she didn’t. She picked up her bag and turned to me. ‘I’ll tell Richard it’s a yes then, shall I?’ As Erin steered her towards the door, Joyce did her best to resist. ‘What have I missed?’
Erin shovelled her out onto the street.