A Sprinkle of Sabotage

by Fiona Leitch

  There was a slightly awkward silence and I knew we were both thinking about it. I cleared my throat.

  ‘So did you talk to your old superintendent?’ I asked. My voice sounded husky and I cleared my throat again.

  ‘Yes,’ said Nathan. He sounded reluctant. ‘He’s pushing me for an answer.’

  ‘An answer? To what?’

  ‘To the job offer, of course. I haven’t said I’ll take it yet.’

  My heart leapt. It wasn’t a done deal. Maybe he wouldn’t go after all. Maybe I could say something to make him stay?

  And if I did get him to stay, what then? What would he be expecting of me? I enjoyed his company and was hugely attracted to him, but… Was I ready for a serious relationship? My ex-husband, Richard, had cheated on his first wife with me, and then cheated on me with someone else – and for all I knew, he was cheating on her now too; being taken in by a man like that had not done much for my self-confidence. What if Nathan was the same? No, I knew he wasn’t. But what if it was me? What if we got together and I screwed everything up and drove him away? I couldn’t face getting my heart broken again, and of course it wasn’t just me now; it was Daisy too. What if he regretted not going for that job? It had much better prospects, and had to be more exciting than sleepy Penstowan. What if he resented me for keeping him here?

  Oh my God, I wasn’t ready for this.

  ‘But it’s a great job,’ I said. ‘You’d have to have a really good reason to turn it down…’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, and I got the impression he was waiting for me to say something else. But I couldn’t. He sighed. ‘Okay, I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.’ And he put the phone down.

  I gulped as I stared at my now-silent phone. He’d sounded … upset? Annoyed? I didn’t know. So much for us being in sync.

  Germaine gave a little whine. I recognised what that whine meant; it meant we had to go outside pretty sharply and I’d better have a poop bag handy, or things could get messy. Not as messy as my love life, though.

  It had started to rain. But of course it had. Germaine was about ready to burst but I dragged her around the side of the building, as even a doggy-friendly hotel has its limits and would not be impressed with her pooping on their doorstep. Most of the staff knew me by now – my investigations always seemed to lead me here, at some point – and the manager, Mr Bloom, turned a blind eye to me hanging around and harassing – I mean, chatting to – his VIP guests, but I didn’t want to push my luck.

  On this side of the building, though, stood the white painted gazebo, covered with climbing roses which were now well past their best. A few months ago, when they’d been in full bloom, Nathan had led me there firmly by the arm and sat me down to have a go at me. He’d caught me trying to get into a hotel room to prove Tony’s innocence, and had been losing patience with me. But what had begun as an attempt to warn me off had turned into him confessing that I might actually be right. He’d given me a lift home afterwards, but not before taking me along with him to question a potential suspect. It had been the tentative start to our partnership, which, unlike the roses, had carried on blooming. Until now.

  It was pouring with rain by now, but I couldn’t bring myself to step up onto the gazebo and get myself undercover, so I stood there feeling utterly miserable while Germaine did her business. At least with it raining so hard no one would be able to tell if I was crying or not.

  ‘Jodie?’ I turned round to see Tony standing there, looking at me quizzically. ‘What are you doing out here? You’re getting soaking wet, you muppet.’

  I gestured vaguely to Germaine, trying to resist the urge to run over and sob all over my old friend. He’d never bugger off to Liverpool (or anywhere else, for that matter) just for a job. He’d never leave me or let me down; he never had so far.

  He squinted at me through the rain and shook his head.

  ‘Come on, you idiot, you’ll get pneumonia.’ He took my hand and led me up the stairs into the gazebo. Germaine had done what she needed to do, so he took the lead from my hand and tied it to one of the wooden posts. ‘Poo bag?’ He held out his hand and I gave him the bag, and he went out in the pouring rain to dispose of Germaine’s unmentionables.

  I sat down – not on the same bench I’d sat on with Nathan; that would be too weird – and watched Tony make a fuss of Germaine before joining me.

  ‘So what’s going on?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m fine. I just didn’t realise it was raining and I left my coat inside,’ I said. He laughed.

  ‘I know you’re all right; you always are,’ he said, and I felt a little pang. Even my oldest friend doesn’t understand me, I thought in a moment of self-pity. ‘I meant the shoot. You’re Nosey Parker; you always know what’s going on.’

  I forced myself to laugh. ‘I thought we’d stopped using our childhood nicknames, Snot Face.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I know how to blow my nose now but you still can’t keep yours out of anything interesting. Is it true about Jeremy?’

  ‘Why, what have you heard?’

  ‘He’s dead. It is true, innit? You can’t hide stuff from me. You know that…’

  I obviously can, I thought. ‘Who told you?’

  ‘Faith did.’ He had the decency to look a little bit embarrassed.

  ‘Oh yeah? You two are very chummy.’ A thought occurred to me. ‘Are you here to see her?’

  He went all the way through ‘embarrassed’ and made it to ‘defensive’ in about three seconds flat.

  ‘Yeah, well, like you said the other day, she’s still a good-looking woman, and we’re both single, and it’s been a while since … since I lost Cheryl, and I’m a grown man; I’ve got needs, just like everyone else, you know.’ He stopped and then muttered under his breath, ‘And nobody else is bloody catering for them.’

  I looked at him for a moment, stunned, and then laughed.

  ‘‘I’ve got needs too’,’ I mimicked. He laughed.

  ‘Oi! Cheeky mare.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t… I mean, Faith? Faith? She’s not… You can’t really fancy her, surely?’

  ‘Are you jealous?’ He looked very amused.

  ‘Of course I ain’t bloody jealous!’ But I kind of was… I stood up so I wouldn’t have to look at him, in this spot that reminded me so much of Nathan. I tried not to imagine the six-pack lurking under his puffer jacket. Oh God, I was so confused and over-emotional; I really should just stick to dogs and murder cases…

  Tony stood up and put out his hand to stop me untying Germaine and escaping. ‘Now you know how I felt when you were seeing Duncan.’

  I gaped at him. I’d had a short-lived, ill-advised, and, as it turned out, pretty chaste fling with the artist Duncan Stovall when he’d visited Penstowan as part of the town’s arts festival. I knew Tony hadn’t exactly approved of the relationship, but jealous?

  ‘But … I…’ I started, but I had no idea where the sentence was going. We looked at each other, the atmosphere charged with … something, and before I knew what was happening, Tony lunged at me, sweeping me into his arms and pressing his lips against mine. I wasn’t wholly against the idea, and he wasn’t a bad kisser; his breath was fresh, and he was gentle and tender and did all the things that make a good kiss. And yet…

  He pulled away and looked at me, with a slightly puzzled look on his face. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and then he took a deep breath. Oh God, I thought, although I wasn’t sure why. My mind was spinning like a disoriented hamster on a wheel.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘First off, sorry for just grabbing you like that—’

  ‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I protested. ‘I wanted you to. I think.’

  ‘Oh, good.’ He looked at me awkwardly. ‘I ain’t normally a grabber…’

  ‘No, I know you’re not. It’s fine.’

  ‘Good.’ We stood and stared at each other again, not entirely sure what was going on here.

  I have to get the hell out of here, I thought to myself, tearing my eyes aw
ay from his. I have to get Germaine and escape before he insists on discussing what just happened because—

  He took another deep breath.

  Oh crap, too late…

  ‘All right, I’m going to say it if you won’t,’ he said, and then stopped. I waited, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything. Say what, exactly? He sighed. ‘I must’ve played that scene over and over in my head hundreds of times over the years, and it was never quite… I mean, you know I’m daft; I was expecting fireworks, violins—’

  ‘Choirs of angels,’ I added. He nodded.

  ‘Choirs of angels, yeah. I weren’t expecting—’

  ‘Weirdness.’ I hadn’t known that was what I was feeling until I said it. His face cleared.

  ‘Oh, thank Christ for that. Yes, weirdness. It felt like—’

  ‘—kissing your sister.’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah. It just felt … odd.’ He forced on a smile, trying to lighten the mood. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d still happily have sex with you. I mean, I am a bloke—’

  ‘Yeah, well, the idea doesn’t entirely repulse me either,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, well, that’s good then.’

  We stood and stared at each other again for a moment, and then he laughed. And then I did too, and it was still awkward but we knew we’d get past it.

  ‘I’m not suggesting that we should sleep together, mind you,’ he said, suddenly alarmed. I shook my head vehemently.

  ‘Oh no, definitely not!’ I said. ‘Sorry, that came out more forcefully than it was meant to. It’s not that you’re not attractive, it’s just…’

  ‘You love me like a brother.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I know. I was certain this was what I wanted an’ all. I am proper flummoxed.’

  ‘Bamboozled.’

  ‘Flabbergasted.’

  ‘Discombobulated.’

  ‘Is that a real word?’

  We looked at each other and laughed softly again. I sighed and reached out to take his hands.

  ‘You know that I’m not given to talking about my feelings,’ I said, and he nodded. ‘I’m only going to say this once, so you’d better pay attention.’ I took a deep breath. I could feel myself getting emotional, and I gave myself a stern talking to before continuing. ‘I love you, Tony Penhaligon. I really do. My life is all the better for having you in it. You’re a brilliant male role model for Daisy – so much better than her flipping useless father – and my mum loves you; even the dog loves you. And I think maybe we had to do this, just to see what it was like.’

  ‘But…?’

  ‘I think we had our moment, and we missed it.’

  He looked so sad at that, that I nearly relented and shouted, ‘Kidding!’ and flung myself into his arms again, but it wouldn’t be right. And more to the point, Tony knew it wasn’t right too.

  ‘I should have kissed you twenty years ago,’ he said, and I nodded.

  ‘Maybe you should have. But back then, I was determined to leave Penstowan, and you’ve never wanted to live anywhere else.’

  ‘I might have moved, for you,’ he said, and I had to blink back sudden tears.

  ‘You would have hated London, and you’d have ended up hating me for dragging you there,’ I said. And Nathan might hate me if I make him stay here, I thought.

  ‘I could never hate you, Jodie.’

  ‘Well, this way we’ll never have to find that out, will we? Because if you and I stay best friends, we’ll be in each other’s lives for ever.’ A tear escaped my stupid, stupid eyes and I swiped it away. Because it was true. We might have made a go of it years ago, but we’d been friends for too long. There was no way I wanted to risk losing that, and neither did he.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘When you told me on that New Year’s Eve a few years ago that you’d split up with Richard, I thought, finally you’ll come back and I can tell you how I feel. That were my New Year’s resolution. But you didn’t come back straightaway, and I met Cheryl, and… I think I’ve just been really lonely since the wedding that never was. And you are my best mate. And I thought…’

  I burst into tears, which was daft because this was all completely mutual and everything, but in the back of my mind there’d been that reassuring thought that if all else failed, there was always Tony. And now there wasn’t. Not like that. And it would never have been fair on him, anyway.

  He pulled me in for a hug and we stood there for a long time while I cried like a complete idiot (I think he may have cried a little bit too, but he’d mastered the art of doing it discreetly). And I knew that I wasn’t just crying for him, but for Nathan too, because it was only now he was on the verge of leaving that I dared admit to myself that he was the one I wanted to be with.

  Chapter Twenty

  I finally pulled myself together and headed back into the hotel. Tony had reassured me that my eyes weren’t red or puffy, but I didn’t entirely believe him. Luckily, having been soaked through, I looked so uniformly awful now (especially compared to these glamorous actorly types) that I guessed the rest of my appearance would draw attention away from my freshly wrung-out eyes.

  ‘I’ll see you later,’ said Tony, as I ran my fingers through my straggly wet hair.

  ‘Aren’t you coming in?’ I asked, surprised. ‘What about Faith?’

  He smiled ruefully. ‘I changed me mind. I don’t want to be just somebody’s booty call after all.’ He laughed. ‘Amazing, innit? I’d have loved being that when I was younger, but nobody was interested then.’

  ‘You’ve matured nicely,’ I said, smiling, wishing that I fancied him after all. But I didn’t, despite the six-pack, and despite the fact that he was actually far more attractive at forty than he had been at twenty. We looked at each other and both of us sighed, then went our separate ways.

  The lady at the reception desk – Karen, according to her name badge – looked at me curiously as I entered.

  ‘It’s pouring out there and I left my coat in the bar,’ I said, unnecessarily. She smiled.

  ‘Who are you here to see?’ she asked, but before I could answer Faith came swanning into the foyer from the guest spa, clad in a snow-white fluffy bathrobe. Her hair was pinned up carelessly, with blonde tendrils spilling down her neck in an effortless but casually elegant way that had probably taken ages to achieve. I pin or tie my hair back when I’m cooking but it never looks like that; it has a tendency to escape from the hairband, so I have to pull it back so tightly that I look like I’ve had a facelift. She probably HAS had a facelift, I thought, but then told myself off. I should be celebrating the fact that an older woman was still successful and sexy. Even if it killed me to admit it.

  She wafted over in a cloud of Chanel No. 5, the slightly smug smile on her face disappearing as she saw me.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, clearly disappointed. Why was no one ever pleased to see me?

  I nearly said, Expecting someone else? But again, I told myself off. She wasn’t a rival, I wasn’t jealous (not really), and there was no need for nastiness. I knew she was expecting someone else, and I also knew he wasn’t coming.

  ‘Afternoon, Ms Mackenzie,’ I said, smiling pleasantly. ‘How are you? I hope you’re over any sickness?’

  She smiled benevolently. ‘I wasn’t terribly ill. Nothing a session in the spa won’t cure.’

  Yeah, I know EXACTLY what sort of ‘session’ you were hoping for, I thought, before I could stop myself, but at least I managed not to say it out loud.

  Faith looked around, then spoke to the receptionist. ‘Karen, sweetheart, I’m expecting a visitor. Can you let him know I’m in the spa? I wouldn’t want to miss him.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, interrupting them. I hadn’t been planning to say anything; Tony had told me he was going to ring her, but he was a bit of a coward when it came to stuff like that and he obviously hadn’t done it yet. And although part of me was still stupidly jealous, I needed to rise above it. I’d been stood up in the past and it wasn’t nice. Better to let her kn
ow than to let her carry on waiting. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing. If you’re waiting for Tony, I just spoke to him and he’s had to cancel. He said he was going to call you.’

  She stared at me for a moment. Behind her, Karen discreetly looked down at some work (real or imaginary) on the desk in front of her. Faith narrowed her eyes then laughed, sounding just like her cockney matriarch soap character.

  ‘Okay, message received loud and clear,’ she said. ‘He did say you and him weren’t, you know…’ I could feel my cheeks start to get warm.

  ‘We’re not, but would it have stopped you if we were?’ I asked, and she laughed again.

  ‘Not necessarily. But if I were you I’d be getting my hands on that dishy detective from last night.’

  ‘Ah, now him you really do have to keep your mitts off,’ I said, although I had to admit I’d so far managed to keep my own off him, and it was looking less likely every day that I’d get a chance to change that. She smiled.

  ‘All’s fair in love and war, or sex and movies,’ she said, ‘but I do try not to step on other women’s toes.’ She sighed. ‘So that’s my plans for the afternoon out the window.’ She looked me up and down. ‘You look like you could do with a facial.’

  So that was how I ended up lying next to the woman I’d spent the last few days being jealous of, clad only in a towel. I’d decided I didn’t like her because of the way she’d tried to monopolise Tony, but I had to admit she was a laugh. And I had no right to be jealous, because I had no intention of getting together with Tony. I should have realised all along that, if we were meant to be an item, it would have happened years ago. It didn’t stop me feeling a pang when I thought of him with other women, though, and I knew that any future partner of his would have to be very special indeed for me to accept them. I pitied them already.

  Germaine enjoyed (or endured) a pampering in the hotel’s doggy daycare centre, while I and my new bestie Faith had facials – an organic revitalising bio-active cleanse and tone, no less (I still had no idea what that actually was, even after having it done), followed by an Ayurvedic Vishuddha detoxifying massage, which may or may not have detoxified me but which certainly pummelled me into submission. We sat by the spa’s private plunge pool, wrapped up in fluffy white towels and sipping at freshly squeezed fruit juice, and I marvelled at how all the stress I’d been feeling without even really being aware of it had just faded away… And of course the minute I realised the stress had gone, it started creeping back. I banished it to the back of my mind. I’d had an emotional morning and I was now being thoroughly spoilt – and I was going to make the most of it.