Chapter Eleven
Sunday, 4 th June
S tacy wound her way to the station, anticipation fizzing at the thought of David’s train hurtling towards her right this minute. Here she was, back in England and, just as she’d thought, Switzerland had retreated into the part of her brain where she kept the sunshiny memories. In a weird way, though, it was good to be back in her everyday life, even if the temperature was ten degrees less here. She took a deep breath of damp air as she crossed the park. Apart from a couple of dog walkers, the place was deserted. Elton Abbey was the sleepiest town in Cheshire, but it was home. Apart from the time she’d spent doing her nursing training in Manchester, she’d lived here since she was born – in fact, her family and their stationery shop had been part of the town for four generations. David hadn’t been best pleased when she’d left the Manchester flat she’d shared with two other nurses and moved back here after deciding acute nursing wasn’t the thing for her, but working in the shop precluded living in Manchester, as far as Stacy was concerned.
David hadn’t been convinced. ‘Why live in the sticks? Lots of people commute for longer than half an hour. You could easily stay on in the city. ’
She hadn’t let him win that one. ‘I know – but this is more than a job. It’s the family business, and I want to be right there where it’s happening. It isn’t forever – and anyway, you’re still flat-sharing with heaven knows how many other med students and working all the hours on earth.’
Living two towns away from your fiancé wasn’t an arrangement that would suit everyone, but for the moment, it worked for Stacy. Emily was the perfect flatmate, and her parents’ home above the shop was a ten-minute walk away. Time enough to think again when David was in his F1 job – they could find a place of their own close to whichever hospital he was working in. What would she do then? Go back to nursing, maybe in the community? Living with David needn’t necessarily mean working in a hospital, no matter what he thought. It was an unsettling feeling, though, when you didn’t know where your future lay.
And here she was at the station, way too early as usual. The train from Manchester didn’t get in for another ten minutes. Stacy spent the time leafing through the travel brochures in the waiting room and trying to calm her churning stomach. She hadn’t seen David since her return home. He’d had to work all day yesterday and was on call last night, so Mum and Dad had picked her and Emily up at the airport. It was anyone’s guess what state David would be in now.
She pulled a face at a picture of Paris, city of lovers – hopefully her lover wouldn’t fall asleep on the train and be carried on all the way to Crewe. It had happened before. But here was the train.
He was tired; she could tell by his slumped shoulders and slow steps as he walked along the platform, but the grin when he saw her made up for that.
‘Hi, there, traveller! Did you learn to yodel? ’
Stacy laughed, hugging him tightly then raising her face for a kiss. That was David, rarely serious – except about his work.
‘Didn’t hear a yodel all week,’ she said. ‘We had a fab time. Come on, I’ll make you a coffee at home and show you all my pics.’
‘I could use some caffeine.’ He slung his rucksack over one shoulder, and held out a hand.
‘Caffeine coming up.’ Stacy’s fingers laced in with his the way they always did, and oh, this was her David, and he was the same as always. She’d been daft, having all those doubts.
Her plan was to make a romantic brunch for him, then spend the afternoon chilling. Emily was visiting her parents today, so they’d have the flat to themselves. It was a heady thought –hours on end with just the two of them. David was working again this evening, but they’d have plenty of time to sort out the fears she’d given way to in Switzerland, and rekindle their relationship. Her bedroom was waiting, clean sheets and candles at the ready, and she’d opened her duty-free perfume for today, too. Stacy leaned close to David and breathed in deeply. Mm, he was wearing a new aftershave or cologne too.
She left him on the sofa checking his phone while she made cappuccinos for them both, frothing up the milk and shaking chocolate powder over a sunburst pattern Emily’d bought in Lindau on Friday. She’d got used to luxurious coffees during her week at Lakeside. Stacy stepped out of the kitchen with a very professional looking coffee in each hand, and – bummer. David was fast asleep on the sofa, snoring gently with his phone balanced precariously on one thigh. Stacy rescued it, and covered him with a throw.
She dropped into an armchair and stared glumly at her exhausted fiancé. This was the whole problem, wasn’t it? They never had quality time together – David was always either working, studying, or asleep. Or awake, exhausted, and crabby. Frustration surged, then she shrugged. Ah well. At least she could get on with her holiday washing. Every cloud…
It was almost four when David woke up, by which time Stacy was seething with impatience she knew was completely unjustified. He sat up, blinking, and Stacy took a deep breath.
‘Hello, sleepyhead. Welcome back to the world.’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Sorry. I was up most of the night. Let me splash my face.’
Stacy went through to the kitchen and poured two glasses of orange juice. He’d have to leave again in an hour or so. He wasn’t going to whisk her round the room and into bed now, was he? Or was he? Hope flared again.
‘Show me your pics,’ said David, flopping back down on the sofa. ‘I’ve never been to that part of Switzerland.’
Stacy reached for her iPad. So it was photos and chat. Fine by her. Wasn’t it? She tapped into the Switzerland folder and handed over the iPad.
‘Here you go. And you’ll need to fill me in, now you’re officially finished med school, you clever thing. Any word about what’s next?’
David’s eyes shone. ‘Yes! I have an F1 job in general surgery in Manchester. It’ll be good experience, and hopefully I can go on to work in a trauma unit after that.’ He swiped through the photos she’d taken on top of the S?ntis.
Stacy waited, but he was engrossed in the photos and nothing more came. She sipped her juice, frowning. Why hadn’t he told her about the job the moment he knew he had it? It didn’t seem to have occurred to David that they’d said they would make concrete plans for their future when his job was settled. Or was she being unreasonable, wanting to plan her wedding the moment they knew where he’d be working?
She cleared her throat. ‘I was at Mum and Dad’s yesterday, after we came home. They were asking about the wedding,’ she said carefully, dismayed to feel a nervous churning start in her stomach. ‘I thought a winter wedding would be nice – November or December? What do you think?’
A startled expression flashed over David’s face, then he swirled his juice in the glass, pouting. ‘I’d need to see if I could get holidays then. Don’t you want to wait until spring or summer?’
‘David, we’ve been engaged for over three years. I want to get married.’
‘What would getting married change? Okay, we’d probably have a flat together instead of this daft arrangement, but we could do that anyway. And you know we won’t be able to look for a place to buy until I’m through the next two years and in a more permanent job. I won’t be able to think about holiday leave until the new job starts, either.’
Stacy wilted into her chair. It was all true, but he might have sounded a bit sorrier about it. Hell, he hadn’t even said which hospital the new job was in; his communication skills were terrible. And what did he mean, probably have a flat together? It all seemed very unromantic. But then, this wasn’t a soppy novel, it was real life.
She rubbed damp palms on her jeans. ‘I feel I’m being put on hold all the time, David.’
‘That’s daft.’ He got up and kissed the top of her head, then went into the kitchen and returned with the biscuit tin. ‘Let me get started in the new job, then we’ll see. You should start looking for a nursing job in Manchester. How about something in the children’s hospital?’
Stacy was silent. It was ridiculous to feel she was being tested here – after all, she’d said at the start that her break from nursing was for the summer only. ‘Don’t change the subject. Your job has dictated our life for a long time, David. And I’m fine with that, truly, but I’d like to start planning my wedding.’
‘You can. I’m sure your mum would be delighted to start looking at dresses and all the other stuff. We can fix the timing later.’
Stacy gave up. Typical bloke. Pointless to say that a dress for a winter wedding would be completely different to one for a June bride.
David stood up. ‘Let’s grab a quick hamburger before I go. Bring the iPad, you can show me the rest of your pics at the restaurant.’
Stacy tried hard to feel positive as she went to get her jacket. Next summer, she’d be happily married and she’d laugh about her feelings now. Wouldn’t she?
***
The Monday morning, back-to-work feeling hit with a vengeance as Stacy battled her way to the shop through pouring rain, struggling to keep her umbrella the right way out. This time last week, she and Emily had been slathering on sun block in preparation for breakfast on the terrace of the Lakeside Hotel. Changed days indeed. She swerved through what passed for the rush hour on Elton Abbey’s main road, and arrived at Pen ’n’ Paper. Here she was, back on the eight-to-four shift. She’d be alone until ten-thirty, when Mum would join her and stay until closing time at six-thirty. Eleven until three was their busiest time, and if the after-work crowd was too much for one person, Mum and Dad lived upstairs, so help was always within yelling distance.
Stacy opened the door and stepped inside, dropping her brolly into the stand. The shop was cosy and welcoming, and nothing had changed here for years. Decades, even. The stands along the back wall held greetings cards, notelets and the like, while the side walls had pens and paper, plus stationery items like notebooks and markers and paperclips and the hundred and one other bits and pieces that customers might need – someday. The problem was, stuff like that was less expensive in the big new shopping centre outside town, so they didn’t sell much of it these days. The middle of the floor held a large gifts table with everything from candles to soap to playing cards, depending on what knick-knacks her father had picked up. This week, these included an assortment of colourful picture frames, mugs encouraging people to keep calm and do various things, and some sterling silver chains and necklaces.
Stacy put the kettle on for tea, then organised the till. By eight o’clock she was open and ready for business. A trickle of customers came in to browse, and some of them bought, too. She helped a mother with a three-year-old choose birthday party invitations, then rootled though the storeroom for giant-sized manila envelopes for the parish priest and advised a worried teenager about writing a job application letter. After a twenty-minute chat he bought a ￡1.15 pen and left, looking much happier. Stacy grinned as she waved goodbye. Sometimes this job wasn’t too far away from nursing. She added a few pencil sharpeners to the window display of school material on special offer, then stood drumming her fingers on the counter .
Mum would be down soon, and the first thing she’d say when they had a moment to themselves was going to be – did you talk to David about the wedding date? It was hard to know what to do. David either didn’t want to be pinned down to a date yet, or he’d prefer to live together until his foundation years were over, or – Stacy’s heart thudded miserably. Or he didn’t want to get married at all. He didn’t want to talk about it, anyway. And here was Mum, bang on cue.
‘Morning, love! Come on, just because it’s a wet Monday doesn’t mean your face has to match. Your dad’s gone to the wholesaler to pick up some new things for the gift table, so I’ll make a nice cuppa, shall I?’ She moved into the back shop.
Stacy went back to the till. She would turn into a nice cuppa one of these days. But now to distract Mum before she started any wedding talk.
‘How were sales last week?’
Janie Townsend grimaced. ‘Don’t ask. Here we are in June, and takings since January are only a few pounds more than half the takings for July to December last year.’
‘Which included Christmas,’ Stacy pointed out, feeling mean to have brought the subject up. The worry lines on Mum’s face were deeper than she’d ever seen them.
‘I know, but… Gareth said he’d go over the books with us soon. He might have an accountant-like idea.’
Stacy sniffed. Her older brother had never shown much interest in the shop. Her mother slid yet another steaming mug across the counter, her usually cheery face still sombre.
‘I don’t know, Stacy. We’ve never had to worry about the future before, but it’s been downhill all the way for Pen ’n’ Paper these past two years. If it goes on like this, it’ll be a struggle to keep going. ’
Stacy searched for something positive to say. That look on her mother’s face – it was fear. Shit, things were bad, weren’t they? And the best thing she could do to help would be to find a good job so that at least Mum and Dad weren’t worrying about the shop having to support all three of them. The number of customers coming into the place didn’t justify employing her, so basically, Mum and Dad were paying her a wage for doing something they could easily do themselves. Because she was family and they loved her – but that didn’t make it right.
The day meandered on, the highlight being the secretary of the local primary school dashing in mid-afternoon to buy twenty-eight notebooks as prizes for class competitions.
‘The head said we should support local businesses now and again,’ she said cheerfully, accepting the notebooks in a large carton. ‘Don’t need to get everything on the cheap, do we?’ She dashed back out again.
Stacy and Janie looked at each other and laughed, then Janie went back behind the counter.
‘Tact isn’t her middle name, is it? You can get off now, love. Your dad’s upstairs if I need help.’
Stacy gathered her things together. It hadn’t been a fascinating day, but at least she’d avoided any wedding talk. And one thing had become crystal clear: short of a major miracle, Pen ’n’ Paper wasn’t going to be a long-term career prospect. She’d better start job-hunting.