Chapter 5
5
The following evening, Carole was testing paint samples on the living room wall when her doorbell rang. After popping the miniature brush back inside the paint capsule, she answered the door to find Tom on her doorstep.
“Hi, Carole,” he said, then noticed the paint rag she was wiping her hands with. “Sorry, have I caught you at a bad time?”
“No, I was doing some paint colour tests on the walls, but I’m just about finished.”
“I wanted to offer you some of these fairy cakes,” Tom said, now holding out the plastic box in his hands. “Evie made so many when she was here yesterday, and I’ll never eat them all. I should’ve thought to hand a few of them over the fence last night when we were talking.”
Carole saw the collection of cakes inside the box, each one drenched in thick icing and bright sprinkles.
“Those look lovely. Come in and I’ll pop the kettle on.”
She beckoned him inside and through to the kitchen. After filling the kettle and setting the pretty little cakes onto a plate, she said, “Would you mind giving me a second opinion on the paint samples I’ve just dabbed all over my living room wall?”
“Of course.”
Tom followed her to the living room, which looked out onto the street. Carole had brushed the paint samples onto the fireplace wall, and they both stood for a moment contemplating the four colours dabbed there.
“So, I’m getting rid of this old fireplace,” Carole explained, pointing to the dated electric fire which was horribly noisy when it was turned on, and which she’d be glad to see the back of. “I’ve got someone coming during the week to take it out and deal with the electrical connections in the wall behind it. I’m thinking of getting a small media unit instead with some in-built storage and decent lighting, to make things look more contemporary.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Tom said.
“Once this fireplace is gone, I want to be ready to start painting, because until I’ve redecorated in here and chosen a new unit for the space, I’m not unpacking any of the stuff I’d usually have in this room.”
“Makes sense.”
“I like all of these paint colours,” Carole said, gesturing to the samples she’d painted on the wall. The shades ranged from blush pink to primrose yellow to sky blue to sage green. “I want something light and airy, and I’m leaning towards the pink, which looks great there right now, but I wonder if I might feel differently about it in the winter months when the room is much darker because it’s north facing. What are these rooms like during darker days, in your experience?”
Tom considered the samples on the wall for a moment before answering. “It’s true that this part of the house will feel darker in the winter. That’s my experience living next door, at least. I think that sage green shade might feel surprisingly dark in the winter, and if it was me, I’d stick to either the pink or the blue.”
“You don’t like the yellow?”
“Is it yellow? I thought it was cream. Maybe if it were yellower, I’d like it, but that’s just my taste.”
Carole considered the paint samples. “Hmm, now that you’ve said it, I can see it does look more creamy than yellowy. I was leaning towards the pink anyway. Do you think it will look too cold during the winter? Pink can be that way sometimes.”
“Listen, I’m no interior design expert, but I like the pink and blue. Either will work, I’m sure of it.”
Carole nodded. “I just really, really don’t want to end up with a room that feels dark in the winter. The walls in my ex’s house were all grey—light grey, dark grey, medium grey—and it was much too dark and gloomy for me.”
“I don’t think you’ll end up with a gloomy room if you choose the pink or the blue.”
“Thanks, I appreciate the advice.”
The kettle finished boiling and they returned to the kitchen. Carole felt encouraged by Tom’s advice. It was nice having someone handy who she could bounce her ideas and plans off, someone who lived in the same sort of house as she now did and who could share some useful knowledge with her. She might only be debating a paint colour for a living room, but it was important to her that she get it right, after living in her ex’s gloomy grey house for so many years.
“It looks good in here,” Tom said, taking in the white walls of the kitchen. “Is this the redecorating you’d just finished last night when we got talking?”
Carole nodded as she stirred the teabags in the mugs.
“Well, you know what you’re doing. You’ll have this whole place brightened up in no time.”
Tom accepted the mug she handed him. When she waved the plate of cakes towards him, he shook his head.
“Come on, I’m not about to stuff my face with one of these while you aren’t eating anything,” she said, and plonked a cake on a plate for him.
“The whole point of bringing these to you was so I didn’t have to eat them all,” he laughed, but made her happy by unwrapping the cake and taking a bite.
“Oh, these are good,” Carole said. “There’s, er, quite a lot of icing on this one.”
Tom laughed again. “Evie doesn’t do things by half measures, least of all when it comes to her latest passion, which is cake decorating.”
“So, yesterday you said Evie was Lucy’s daughter? That made it sound like she’s not your daughter, too, is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right. When Lucy and I got together, Evie was already four years old. Lucy broke up with Evie’s dad when Evie was just a baby. He’s still involved in Evie’s life, well, when it suits him, that is.”
Carole couldn’t miss the disdain in Tom’s tone as he added that last remark.
“Lucy and I were together for three years and I spent a lot of time with Evie,” Tom said. “Although things didn’t work out between Lucy and I, there was no great drama when we broke up and we’ve stayed good friends. I adore Evie and would hate not to have her in my life. I’d miss her too much. Thankfully, Lucy understands that, and understands that Evie likes seeing me, too.”
He gave a wry grin and added, “Plus, when I’m not caught up at work, I’m usually always available for babysitting, which comes in handy. Actually, Evie and I have seen each other more than ever over these past couple of weeks as Lucy’s wedding day gets closer, because she’s run off her feet dealing with everything that has to be done.”
“It sounds like you and Lucy still have a great relationship after breaking up, especially if you’re going to her wedding and watching her marry some new bloke. Won’t that feel a bit strange?”
“I can see how it might look that way. But Lucy’s fiancé, Martin, is a great guy and they’re a great match, and he’s brilliant with Evie. I’m happy for Lucy, and happy for both of them. And Evie loves Martin, which seals the deal for me. Lucy wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t great with her daughter and given how Evie chatters on about him whenever she visits, I know he’s a good bloke who’ll take care of them both.”
“Wow, that’s amazing, Tom. There aren’t many people who break up and stay friends the way it sounds you’ve done with your ex.”
“It works for us because we both love Evie and want what’s best for her.” He set aside his half-eaten fairy cake and gave her a thoughtful look over the rim of his mug. “You mentioned you’d just come out of a relationship lately?”
Carole nodded. “We’d been together for a few years, but things ran their course and it was time to move on. I’m glad to be back on my own after living with Greg for a long time. Knocking this place into shape and getting things just the way I want them is exciting, even if it is hard work. It’s all part of the brand-new start I promised myself after I broke things off with Greg.”
“Well, you’ve obviously hit the ground running,” Tom said, gesturing to the freshly painted kitchen walls and then getting to his feet. “Which, I’m afraid, is what I have to do, too.”
“You’d better finish the rest of that fairy cake before you go. It’d be a shame to waste it, and I ate all of mine, see?”
Carole showed him the empty cupcake case before rolling it into a ball and dropping it in the bin. With a resigned nod, Tom stuffed the last portion of cake into his mouth.
“You were supposed to eat these for me, not make me to tuck in alongside you,” Tom laughed when he’d swallowed his mouthful of cake.
“Well, you can tell Evie I think these fairy cakes are delicious, and if there’s any more baking on the go the next time she’s visiting you, be sure to share it with me.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Tom’s phone pinged just then and he glanced at the screen. “I’ve got a work call I need to make this evening and that’s my five-minute warning. I’d better get moving. Thanks for the tea.”
“Thanks for the fairy cakes.”
“Oh, and I thought I’d let you know that I’m away on a work trip for the next few days. I won’t be back until Thursday, and I figured it was worth mentioning in case you came knocking on my door with any final details about your cousin’s wedding next weekend and wondered where I’d disappeared to.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll text you with any info instead.” A thought occurred to her. “Do you need someone to drop by and water your houseplants or anything like that?”
They’d reached the front door, and Tom turned and gave her an appreciative look. “Thanks for offering. But I learned a long time ago that I only ever end up killing any plants that are unlucky enough to find their way into my house, so took pity on the poor things and stopped forcing them to come and live with me.”
Carole laughed. “Fair enough. Where are you going on your work trip? Somewhere overseas and exotic? Or am I being horribly nosy now?”
Tom returned her grin. “’Course not. I’m just heading up to Manchester. Nothing more exciting than that, I’m afraid.”
“Well, safe journey, Tom, and I’ll see you when you get back.”
With a wave, Tom strode off along her garden path and made his way back to his own front door. Carole gave a final wave goodbye as he fished his keys out of his jeans and went inside his house.
As she rinsed their tea mugs at the sink, she thought about their brief conversation. She’d learned a little bit about him, which was nice, and had solved the mystery of his relationship with the cute little girl, Evie, who often visited. Tom was the girl’s sort-of stepdad, in a roundabout way, and was apparently a decent bloke if he was eagerly remaining a part of the child’s life after his relationship with her mother had ended.
His confession that he was also a penitent murderer of houseplants made her smile, for some reason she couldn’t fathom.
Although he’d mentioned the work phone call he’d dashed off to make, and the work trip he was leaving for the next day, Carole realised she still didn’t know what he did for a living. Of course, Tom didn’t know what she did for a living, either.
They still had a lot to find out about each other as new neighbours, but the small amount she’d learned so far about the man left Carole reassured that he’d be decent company at the wedding next weekend.
Before Tom had mentioned his work trip, she’d been about to suggest they grab a takeaway dinner together some night and take the opportunity to get to know each other a bit more before her cousin’s wedding arrived.
That was now out of the question.
Still, if the first chance they’d get to have a proper conversation was during the wedding itself, then maybe that was a good thing. Chatting with Tom and finding out more about him would give her a useful diversion from worrying about crossing paths with her long-ago ex, Steven Weaver.
Carole sighed. She really could be doing without having to think about Steven at all, so she decided that was exactly what she would do— not think about him.
Steven was in the past. He was ancient history. If her recent break-up with Greg wasn’t giving her any cause for grief, which it wasn’t, then the last thing she ought to do was let Steven Weaver take up any head space.
Walking to the living room, she studied the paint colour samples on the wall. Tom was right—the pink and the blue were the best options.
Pink, she decided.
Once the dreadful fireplace was removed, the electrical connections were dealt with, and the wall was patched up, she’d paint the room in pretty blush pink.
Glad to have made the decision, Carole headed upstairs to wrangle the last of the bedroom boxes still waiting to be unpacked.