Chapter Eleven
The cordless vacuum whirrs and splutters as its battery threatens to deplete, but that’s alright, I’m pretty much finished now. The carpet is dust and debris-free, the bathroom is glistening, and the dishes that were soaking in the sink from last night are sparkling clean and drying on the drainer.
If it’s not already painfully obvious, I’m desperately trying to earn my keep around here.
It’s been almost a month since I packed up what precious few items I could carry and holed up in Lily Vale with Lucy, and the panic is really starting to set in.
My life has zero direction, I’m jobless, clueless and floundering through my thirties.
All around me, women are moving on and growing - Lucy is getting married , for goodness sake, and what am I doing?
Crashing in her spare bedroom (of the cottage she owns , I might add - home ownership is out of the question for me), ignoring the fact I need to find a new career path to walk down and instead, throwing myself into being the best maid of honour the world has ever seen - mostly because I have nothing else going on.
God, am I just an overgrown teenager, someone who hasn’t moved on from messy nights clubbing into the wee hours, the one-night stands, the stumbling in and out of any job that will hire me?
Does that life fulfil me anymore, and did it ever - or was I just chasing the next thrill, purely because the thought of settling and sitting still for just one moment filled me with fear?
I flop down on the sofa, as limp as a piece of wet lettuce. I never wanted to get married - I swore that to myself the day Dad left - but I’m not sure I wanted this.
Right in the middle of my existential crisis, I hear a key turn in the front door, and I wipe away the tear I hadn’t realised I’d shed. All composed, I sit up straight with a false smile as Alex wanders into the living room, spinning his spare key around his pointer finger.
‘Hi, Leesh,’ he nods at me. ‘Is Lucy out?’
‘Yeah, she went to visit Victor, you know, that sweet old guy who lives next door? She said he needed some help putting a painting up, or something.’
‘Ah, right. Well, I only came round to drop off this.’ He places a small white cardboard box on the coffee table. ‘It’s a sample of the boutonnieres for me and the groomsmen, I thought she’d want to see them before we sign off on the design.’
A grin tugs at my mouth. He’s so thoughtful, I doubt there are many blokes out there who would willingly be so involved in the wedding planning process, not to mention liaise with the florist on floral designs.
‘I’ll stick the box in the fridge so it stays fresh for when she comes home,’ I tell him.
‘Excellent. I’d better be off, I’ve got a whole afternoon of repairs at the community hall to be getting on with.’
‘Well, I’ll see you soon.’ As he’s walking away, a thought occurs to me, one I can’t possibly ignore. ‘Hey, Alex?’
He pauses by the living room door, leaning up against the frame. ‘Yeah?’
I gnaw at my bottom lip, considering whether I should speak my mind. I’d be overstepping, I know, and Lucy did tell me not to stick my oar in where it wasn’t wanted … but I just can’t help it.
‘You know after you and Luce are married, are you going to stay living in separate houses?’
There’s an awkward silence, the kind that leaves a pit in my stomach and makes me wish I’d just bitten out my tongue instead of opening up my big mouth.
‘Well,’ Alex clears his throat. ‘We - we haven’t really talked about that, to be honest.’
I know I should quit while I’m ahead, but for some foolish reason - friendship, I suppose - I press on. ‘Don’t you think it might be a good idea to do that?’
‘Probably.’ He rubs at the stubble shadowing his jaw. ‘Look, I don’t really have time to get into this right now, I - I’ve got to go.’
And just like that, he’s off, and my prodding achieved nothing but an uncomfortable atmosphere.
I attempt to calm my nerves with some chamomile tea, but I let the bag brew for too long and it tastes bitter on my tongue.
I log onto my laptop to look up more wedding ideas, yet that only serves to make me more anxious than ever.
Sighing, I return to my well-worn spot on the sofa, head in my hands. I wonder how Finn is doing, I haven’t seen him since the open mic night last week. Strange that he of all people should pop into my head.
I glance out of the window - since it’s such a summery day today, a nice cold beer might be just the ticket. Maybe it will take my mind off the unpleasant moment I just shared with Alex, at least for a little while.
It doesn’t take long to get to The Pheasant’s Nest and luckily for me, the pub is not only devoid of customers, but Finn is also on the bar. My heart skips when he smiles - a bright, genuine grin that feels as though it could be reserved just for me.
‘Ah, back for another duet?’ he teases.
‘Ha, ha, ha.’ I roll my eyes as I approach the bar. ‘I totally out-singed you and you know it!’
‘As if!’ Finn laughs. ‘I’ve got the voice of an angel.’
‘Hm, who knew an angel chorus would sound like a strangled cat?’
Finn clutches his heart, pretending to be mortally wounded. ‘Damn, the rose has some thorns!’
‘That’s right, so you better not get too close!’
‘I’ll remember that.’ An eyebrow lifted, he presses a palm against the bar. ‘So, what can I get for you?’
‘Surprise me.’
He goes to pull a pint from one of the taps, but nothing but a couple of drips fall out into the glass.
‘Oh damn it, the barrel must need changing.’ His brown eyes flick to mine. ‘Want to come and check out where the magic happens?’
‘Sure!’
I follow him outside to the side of the pub, where Finn opens up what appears to be a literal trap door in the brick.
‘What on earth is that?’ I ask, astonished.
‘It’s the bulkhead door, it leads to the cellar.’ He holds out a hand. ‘Come on.’
Warily, I place my palm in his and allow him to lead me down a sturdy set of stairs that slope into darkness. Thankfully, there’s a light switch on the wall, and the walk into the cellar is suddenly a lot less creepy.
As we descend, the smell of hops becomes overpowering, and I breathe it in as the stairs widen and we step onto the stone-tiled floor of the cellar.
It’s like something from a medieval tavern, all wooden barrels with pipes going in and out of them, everything bathed in soft orange naked Edison bulbs that make the tiny room look sort of mystical.
‘Welcome to the mini brewery.’ Finn throws out his arms proudly. ‘This is my domain right here, where I work on my new flavours and brews.’
‘Wow, this is kind of cool!’ As he gets to work changing the barrel, I wander around, inspecting each labelled vat with interest. ‘Did you always know you wanted to brew beers and stuff?’
Finn pauses, face twisted in thought. ‘Hm, not exactly. I mean, ever since I was a child, I liked messing around with mixing up made-up drinks and stuff, combining milk and apple juice, that sort of thing.’
‘Gross.’
‘But I wouldn’t say this was part of the plan, I just kind of became interested in fermenting my own cider and stuff, then continued to learn from there.
It’s great that I’ve been able to bring my formulas to Uncle Barry’s pub, but I’d love to open a brewery with a little shop and everything nearby, that’s the dream. ’
‘I wish I had dreams like that.’ I rest my shoulder against the huge barrel. ‘I’ve simply fallen into every job I’ve ever had.’
‘Well, what are you doing now?’
‘Nothing. I’m a full-time maid of honour for Lucy currently. At some point, I’ve got to start looking for a new job, but I can’t face going back to London just yet.’
‘Who says you’ve got to go back?’ Finn counters. ‘You could get a job in the village, couldn’t you?’
‘Depends, is there a dentist office around here somewhere?’
‘Of course, it’s on the high street by the deli. Why, were you a dentist, then?’
The idea is so ridiculous, I scoff with derision. ‘Hardly, I never got the marks for that in school! No, I used to be a dental hygienist, and I learned how to do that on the job. In fact, that’s how I’ve learned every job I’ve ever had, so I guess I’m adaptable, even if I’m not exactly competent.’
‘You shouldn’t sell yourself short, Alicia. You’re more capable than you think. There, that’s got it!’ He gives the barrel a small smack with the palm of his hand and stands up straight. ‘All sorted.’
‘So, I can have a beer now?’
‘Yep.’ As if I’m just one of his mates, he claps me on the back. ‘Let’s go back up.’
The pub is still empty when we head back inside, and a secret piece of my heart is relieved.
The golden pint Finn pulls from the tap is crisp and refreshing, ideal for this sweltering summer day.
Leaning precariously on the bar stool, I savour each precious sip, wondering why it took me this long to get into beer.
Well, I suppose the answer is that I wasn’t a fan of the peaty, watery rubbish I’ve been served in the past, but Finn’s special brew is a million miles away from that.
‘It’s good?’ Finn prompts, his eyes glittering.
Giggling, I reach over the bar and punch him gently in the shoulder. ‘You know it is.’
‘True. But is it good enough to stick around?’
Frowning, I look at him sideways. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, we were talking about jobs, and I said there’s nothing forcing you to go and look for one in London, so why don’t you just settle down in Lily Vale? You’ll find a decent job here, no problem.’
The beer turns sour on my tongue. There’s that word again - settle, as in relax, rest, let your guard down. But I can’t do that, it’s not in my nature.
‘I - I should go.’ I scramble from the stool in such haste, that I very nearly twist my ankle. ‘I’ve got so much to be getting on with. Thanks for the beer, though.’
‘No problem,’ Finn replies, sounding baffled. ‘Well, bye.’
I don’t respond as I bolt for the door and stagger out into the hot, sticky sunshine. Peering over my shoulder, a cold regret surges through my chest, but it’s too late to turn around now, so I carry on walking.
I don’t know exactly what freaked me out so much - perhaps it was the mere suggestion that I could make a life in this sleepy little village.
I mean, come on, I’m hardly the homey, wholesome provincial girl, am I?
And even if a minuscule part of me longs to be her, I don’t think I’ve got it in me.
I’m a rambler, I ramble through jobs, friends, boyfriends, I never stay long enough to let things grow stale and stagnant, and I never settle down.
Or maybe I got spooked because it was Finn saying this stuff, and maybe that means he’d actually like me to stay in Lily Vale.
Though it’s boiling hot, I wrap my arms tight around my body and suppress a shiver.
I can’t catch feelings, not now, not ever .
I know where vulnerability gets a girl, I’ve seen it play out countless times with friends, acquaintances, my mum.
Well, I’ll never end up crushed with a broken heart, because my heart is behind several layers of protection, and no one is permitted near it.
Not even funny, sweet and oh-so hot it’s unfair bar tenders.
By the time I get back to Appleseed Cottage, Lucy has returned from her neighbour’s house, and she’s in the middle of preparing a big batch of macaroni cheese on the hob for dinner. I happily join her, gobbling down two huge bowlfuls of the lovely, cheesy stuff.
‘Well, that didn’t even touch the sides!’ Lucy chuckles as she gathers up our bowls and chucks them into the sink. ‘Been busy today?’
A piece of macaroni sticks in my throat, forcing me to cough it into a napkin.
‘Erm, well, I did some tidying,’ I croak, my voice weak from the choking fit.
‘Oh yeah, I did notice it looked much neater around here, thanks for that!’ Lucy beams. ‘But you didn’t have to, I’ve told you before, you’re my guest.’
‘Even so, I’m still making just as much mess as you are here, so I might as well pull my weight and clean it up.’ My eyes dart toward the fridge, then back to Luce. ‘I’m guessing you saw the flowers while you were cooking?’
‘Yep, they are perfect. I messaged Sarah right away to thank her for sticking to mine and Alex’s vision so clearly. Did - did Alex say he was coming along for dinner? I did try to call him, but it went straight to voicemail.’
My stomach hollows out and despite the hefty meal I just scoffed, I suddenly feel empty. ‘No, he didn’t mention anything.’
‘No worries, I’ll just give him another bell.’ She whips her mobile out of her shorts pocket and holds it to her ear, her foot tapping somewhat impatiently against the tiles. ‘Hm, no answer. That’s weird, he should have finished work by now.’
Innocently, I shrug my shoulders, hoping to conceal the guilt. He probably doesn’t want to come round because I’m here. Damn it, I should have just kept my wagging tongue still.
Any concern on Lucy’s face is quickly replaced by a big smile as she heads to the pantry.
‘Oh well, that just means more cake for us, then!’ She places a pink box emblazoned with the Cosy Little Tearoom Logo onto the table and lifts the lid to reveal a stunning cake iced with chocolate ganache and topped with glacé cherries. ‘I fancied a treat tonight.’
Here I am, munching a decadent chocolate cake with my bestie in her gorgeous cottage kitchen, and yet, it tastes of ash in my mouth. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a horrible sense of dread stirring in my chest, as if something awful is on the horizon …