Chapter Twenty-Four
On impulse, I now followed the signpost to Danderbury. The satnav immediately instructed me to make a U-turn. I pressed the car’s voice prompt button.
‘Cancel route guidance.’
Cruising along, I checked the rearview mirror. There was no traffic on my tail, so I took my foot off the accelerator and let the car’s speed drop.
Glancing from left to right, little had changed here other than some updates to the traditional parade of shops set back from the main thoroughfare.
Maria’s Fashions, once home to drab matronly outfits, was now a flashy nail bar.
A local solicitor’s office had changed hands and become an accounting service for small businesses.
A former betting shop had been taken over by the Ellenor Foundation.
There were two visible posters in the shop’s bay window – Accepting Donations Now and Volunteers Required.
Finally, the old-fashioned grocery shop had been replaced with a Tesco Express.
Continuing on, I admired the trees that lined both sides of the road.
They were evenly spaced apart and currently in full blossom.
Their beauty was almost bridal. It reminded me of a wife-to-be dressed in virginal white, with her bridesmaids attending in pastel pink.
A glut of bright-green leaf growth leant a cheerful look to the place.
Coming up on the right was a recreational park.
A man was exiting via the gate, a plump beagle trotting to heel.
The guy paused to exchange pleasantries with a woman who was about to go through the turnstile entrance.
Her labrador wagged its tail at the beagle and, against the backdrop of blue sky, the scene looked picture-perfect; two people passing pleasantries before going about their business.
I tried to imagine what the man and woman might be saying to each other.
‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly is. Rupert can’t wait to play ball.’
‘My Betsy would love to do the same, but she’s carrying too much weight. Always stealing food when my back is turned.’ And then the man patting his tum. ‘A bit like me with the chocolate biscuits when my wife isn’t looking.’ And then the two of them chuckling with laughter.
Perhaps the dogs might be having their own conversation too.
‘Hey, Betsy! Fancy joining me in this weekend’s barkathon?’
‘Thanks, Rupe, but I simply must dig the garden – there has to be a bone there somewhere.’
Not for the first time I found myself pondering over whether to get a pooch.
A four-legged companion. One that loved me unconditionally.
It had to be better than having a man in one’s life.
Been there. Done that. And then a mental picture of Liam Lancaster popped into my head.
The guy was seriously attractive. I was aware that, despite protesting about never wanting a man in my life again, this particular member of the opposite sex had a knee trembling effect on me.
He made me feel… well, a heightened awareness that I was female and he was all man.
Nothing like stating the bleeding obvious, Jen.
Alice had suggested – after Liam’s failure to respond to the wobbling of her assets – that Liam liked me. I wished.
But then again, he couldn’t possibly like me. Not in that way. After all, when I’d unexpectedly seen him at Susie’s coffee shop, Liam had mentioned something about recently meeting someone. Well good luck to him, I thought charitably. And good luck to her too. Whoever she was. Lucky cow.
I wondered where Liam lived. Obviously, I knew he resided in Danderbury but…
where? Along this road? In one of the 1930-style semis on my left?
Perhaps he’d made it into his very own bachelor pad.
Knocked all the walls down upstairs so it was one vast open space.
Naturally it would be dominated by an equally vast custom-made bed.
The place where he took his women. Or woman, to be precise. The one that he’d recently met.
I wondered what his new girlfriend was like.
Probably a sultry brunette with naturally plump lips and a booty to match.
Probably years younger than him too. He could easily pull a hip babe.
I chewed my lip as I pondered. Did people even say hip anymore?
I’d have to ask Joy. These days I was so out of touch.
The garden centre flashed into view and my thoughts about Liam temporarily fragmented. Indicating, I dropped a gear, pulled on the steering wheel, then bounced over a sleeping policeman before crawling into the carpark.
A trip down Memory Lane was coming right up.
That and a coffee at the on-site café – assuming it was still there.
And then, when my cappuccino and cake was in front of me, I’d settle down with my phone.
Do a bit of private investigating. A spot of nosy-parkering.
Starting with Liam Lancaster and seeing if the internet might reveal where he lived.