by Emma Davies
‘Oh.’ Lia swallowed. ‘That doesn’t sound quite so appealing.’
Jasper sighed. ‘I’m being melodramatic.’ He squinted up at her. ‘But some days that does feel like what we do. That, and putting on a good show.’
‘Is that where the charity ball comes in?’
Jasper looked at her for a moment, a gentle frown on his face. ‘No… it was a metaphor,’ he said, ‘like when—’
‘I know what it was,’ said Lia with a grin, which faded as she took in his expression. ‘I was just trying to… you know… well, lighten the mood a little, make a bit of a joke?’
Jasper was staring at her.
‘Not a very good one, admittedly,’ she muttered.
She heard a loud crunch as Jasper bit into his biscuit. He chewed determinedly. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘that’s my problem. I take it all too seriously.’
Lia dunked the last of her own biscuit into her tea, throwing it into her mouth before it disintegrated. ‘So, what makes you unserious?’ she asked. ‘Something must do.’
For a second it was as if she had turned on a light. Jasper’s face cleared in an instant, brightened by a sudden smile.
‘Well yes, there is something,’ he acknowledged. ‘Something that’s more important to me than anything – and that’s the plan. That’s what I’m going to do when I quit.’
‘And?’ she queried. ‘What is it?’
He touched the side of his nose, infuriatingly. ‘You’ll laugh,’ he said. ‘So for now all you need to know is that after the charity ball, after the dance, I intend to make it happen. For now…’
‘You want to go out with a bang?’
Jasper pulled a face. ‘Sort of,’ he said. ‘I want to go out without having made a fool of myself, or my family. I want our reputation to be upheld. I want the ball to be the success it always is and for everyone to see my promotion to partnership. It’s important that people see our strength, our unity; anything less would weaken our position in the market.’
‘And afterwards?’
‘Afterwards, I let them down gently. I give them time to come up with some plausible excuse for my leaving that will allow them to save face. An illness perhaps, I don’t know.’
Lia could feel the air around her go still. ‘This is really important to you, isn’t it?’ she said eventually. There was no need to wait for a reply. ‘But I’m really not cut out for this sort of thing, Jasper. I can help you to dance, we can learn together, but I don’t think I could ever get up at some fancy ball and dance in front of hundreds of people. I’d die of embarrassment.’
‘You’d be amazing.’ He looked down at the table for a moment. ‘I have money, Lia,’ he added. ‘For things; a dress, shoes, jewellery, whatever you wanted… if that would help.’
A rueful smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. ‘We’d need to practise,’ she said. ‘A lot.’
‘Whatever you say.’
‘In your spare time…’
‘Of course. Whenever you want.’
She was about to say something else when a sudden thought hit her. Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘What am I saying!’ she exclaimed. ‘How can I possibly do all this? Who’s going to look after Mum?’
Jasper looked panic-stricken. ‘I could come here,’ he said. ‘And whatever care Rose needed, I could pay for… Your mum would be well looked after, and you’d still be on hand if there was a problem.’ He glanced around the room, thinking on his feet. ‘We could use the dining room. Push the table and chairs back against the wall?’
‘It’s barely big enough.’
‘It’s a start.’
Lia searched his face. She wanted to say no. She wanted to find reasons why it couldn’t possibly work, but, oh… how she wanted to dance too. There were tiny flutterings at the edges of her mind – glimmering images of what it might be like to dance, over and over again, her feet a whirl, her hair flowing behind her as she spun faster and faster…
‘Come on Thursday,’ she said. ‘About seven.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘Callum, I’m so sorry. The day just ran away with me, one thing after another. Are you okay?’ He gave her an unconvincing nod. ‘Listen, I won’t be much longer, are you all right to wait? You could go home if you want to, and I’ll meet you there.’
Callum stared at her, jolted by the sudden realisation of what her words meant to him. When Lucy said ‘go home’ she was talking about her house; he no longer made the distinction between Lucy’s and his own, but more importantly neither did Lucy. When had that happened? he wondered. He narrowed his eyes, taking in the soft golden curls of her hair, which she now no longer straightened each morning. It looked natural, more gentle, and it really suited her. Her face wore the length of her day, tiredness darkening the delicate skin under her blue eyes and flushing her cheeks. He felt the urge to reach out a hand to soothe her, and swallowed hard as emotion churned within him for the third time that day.
‘We could get chips or something?’
Her voice was prompting a reply, but Callum could only nod, struck dumb in the moment.
‘Or a takeaway of some sort, I don’t mind…’
He dragged himself back to the conversation. ‘No, chips are fine. I could go and get them if you like, while I’m waiting. Do you want the usual?’
Lucy considered his question, pursing her lips together. ‘I think it’s going to have to be,’ she said. ‘And don’t forget—’
‘I know, plenty of salt and vinegar.’ Because that was another thing. He did know what her usual was. He did know that she liked plenty of salt and vinegar and that when the food was on her plate she would liberally cover everything in brown sauce too. Just as he knew that she covered roast dinners in gravy and puddings in custard, and that she had spoonsful of pickle in her cheese sandwiches. Lucy couldn’t abide dry food.
He logged off from the computer and picked his jacket up from the back of the chair, shrugging it on. It had long since got dark and the evening air had a definite nip to it. He gave a smile and fished in his pocket, checking for his wallet.
‘I won’t be long,’ he added. ‘I’ll meet you outside, shall I?’ He didn’t wait for a reply, knowing that it wouldn’t take Lucy long to cash up and close down the library for the day, but also anxious to get a little fresh air.
* * *
The tea-time rush had been and gone and Callum was served quickly; chips and two pieces of steaming fish just out of the fryer now nestled in his arms. The smell of the vinegar was making him salivate and he picked up his pace as he turned the corner of the road to walk back to the library. The lights were still on as he approached but he knew that Lucy would appear any minute now. He crossed the car park to meet her by the door, but as he walked, deep in thought, it took a good half a minute to realise that someone else was already standing there. A tall, fit-looking bloke with close-cropped dark hair.
‘Can I help you?’ Callum asked, fearing that Lucy would get the fright of her life opening the door to find someone other than him on the other side.
The man’s face, dark with designer stubble, turned towards him. ‘I was wondering if I’d missed you, but I guess not,’ he said. ‘You must be Callum,’ he added. ‘Not many blokes with poncey curly hair around these days.’
A ripple of anxiety passed through Callum. He was used to caustic remarks from his brothers, but not from complete strangers. Particularly ones who were a lot bigger than him.
‘Callum it is then,’ the stranger added. ‘Or you’d be keen to tell me otherwise, wouldn’t you? ’Cause, yeah, you’ve read it right: I do look like I’m about to give you a pasting.’
Thus far in his life Callum had managed to avoid being thumped. He’d come close once or twice, but his brothers had taught him that taking the line of least resistance was usually best. He wasn’t big on machismo, and until recently had assumed most people thought he was a loser anyway, so standing up for himself was never very high on his list of priorities. Tonight he felt a
little different, though. Tonight, Lucy was about to step through the door and see something she really shouldn’t have to see. Whoever this clown was had nothing to do with her, and Callum couldn’t run the risk that she might get hurt herself. If he was going to get a thrashing there probably wasn’t much he could do about it, but the very least he could do was take the fight elsewhere and put Lucy out of harm’s way. Still clutching his fish and chips tight to his chest, Callum took a deep breath – and ran.
The questions crowding his brain would have to wait; his only concern was putting distance between himself and the muscle man. He needn’t have bothered; his small stature was no match for the long legs of whoever it was with an axe to grind, and it was only a matter of seconds before he was jerked backwards by the scruff of his neck, his jacket twisted into the fist of the man chasing him. He was pulled roughly into his chest and then spun around to face him, both arms held fast in an iron grip.
‘Fucking coward!’ the man spat. ‘Stand still, you little runt.’
Callum did as he was told, the hot chips burning his skin through their paper and the thin material of his tee shirt.
‘Fancied your chances, did you?’ The man shook Callum hard. ‘Big man, eh? Not so big from where I’m standing… Phoebe was right, no reason why she’d fancy you. I mean, look at you – pathetic.’ He let go of Callum’s arms with a shove, his face drawn into a sneer.
The penny dropped. There were a million and one things that Callum could say – probably should say – but at that precise moment he reasoned that none of them would do any good. He sighed, letting his shoulders drop.
‘Gary, I presume?’ he said with a resigned air. ‘Fiancé of Phoebe, the girl I’ve been helping in the library. The one planning her wedding…’
‘Yeah, that’s right. The girl who’s marrying me, not you, sunshine. Got it?’
‘The policeman…?’
‘Yeah… which is the only reason why my hand is not currently round your throat…’
‘You’re a real charmer, aren’t you?’
Gary took a step closer so that his face was only inches from Callum’s.
‘Don’t get smart. I might not be able to touch you, but I can still make your life a real misery if I want to. It’ll be your word against mine. Nothing you can do about it. Believe me, it’s not worth it.’
Callum held up a hand. ‘Yeah, I believe you. And you’re right, I’m worthless scum, not the sort that Phoebe would fall for at all. I mean, look at me compared to you.’
Gary’s brows knitted together as he tried to work out whether he’d just been insulted.
‘You’ve got nothing to worry about, mate, believe me,’ Callum added.
The car park suddenly dimmed as the library lights were switched off. Gary threw a glance towards the building.
‘Yeah, well – I’d better not have. If I ever catch you sniffing around—’
‘You won’t!’
A finger was pushed into Callum’s chest. ‘Well then, you’d better piss off, hadn’t you, before I change my mind.’
Callum managed to point a finger at the only car left in the car park. He took a step towards it. ‘I’ll just…’ He could hear the beeping of the library alarm setting itself. ‘Only, the librarian’s coming,’ he added, beginning to fish in his pocket for his car keys. He drew the bunch of keys out, peering at them in the dark and trying to decipher which one was for the ignition. When he looked up, Gary was gone.
* * *
Lucy pulled her coat around her as she locked the library door. It wasn’t that she felt cold, more that it had been a long day and her tiredness was suddenly catching up with her. She longed for the comfort of home, and the salty tang of her fish supper, which, with any luck, would be waiting for her in the car park along with Callum.
She looked around for his familiar figure, expecting him to be standing close by the door, as usual. The smile was already on her face, but it fell as she spotted him by his car. He was staring into space, looking beyond the car park into the lane at the bottom, their dinner clutched tight to his chest. Even in the dusky light she could tell there was something wrong. Perhaps it was the way he was standing, or the expression on the half of his face that was towards her, but something felt different in the space that separated them. She took a step closer.
‘Callum?’ she called.
To her relief, he turned immediately, his face clearing and a smile replacing the tight lines of his mouth.
He waved a hand in greeting. ‘Come on,’ he replied. ‘The chips are getting cold.’
Lucy needed no second invitation; she was starving. She climbed into the car next to him, settling her bag in the footwell and reaching for her seatbelt. Automatically, she turned to take the food from Callum as he sought to get the key into the ignition. He must have been waiting longer than she thought; his hands were so cold they were trembling. Eventually, the engine roared into life and Callum turned up the heater to full.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise I’d taken so long.’ She reached out a hand to touch his. It was like ice.
‘Yeah… no… it’s okay.’ Callum shook his head. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?’
Lucy gave him a sideways glance, before shifting slightly in her seat. ‘Only that I’d taken longer than I thought… You’re cold?’ she said, frowning gently. ‘Callum, is everything all right? You seem a bit… odd.’
‘Odd…’ he repeated. ‘Yeah, I’m that all right. Odd… stupid, that’s me. I can think of several more words as well.’
This time she took his hand, pulling it off the steering wheel and twisting his fingers into her own. He offered no resistance. It was hard to know what to say; ten minutes ago he’d seemed fine.
‘Callum, what’s happened?’ she asked. ‘Have I done something wrong?’
Immediately his head swivelled round, his eyes seeking hers. ‘No!’ he said, almost fiercely. ‘Nothing like that. Not you.’
‘Then who, Callum?’ she asked, picking up on this clue. ‘Who’s upset you?’
He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. ‘Not here,’ he whispered, after a moment. ‘Let’s go home… please.’ He pulled gently at his hand and Lucy released it, watching as he put the car into gear, but his face was turned resolutely to the front.
‘Okay,’ she replied. ‘We’ll eat, and then you’ve got to promise you’ll tell me what’s been going on. Maybe you’ll feel better once you’ve got some food inside you,’ she added hopefully.
She thought she saw a slight nod, and then they were pulling away, out onto the lane and through into the High Street. They sat in silence the whole way home.
The house was almost in darkness when they arrived, just a single light burning in the living room. Lucy stuck her head around the door to let her mum know they were home. She looked up from the bundle of yarn on her lap.
‘Oh, hello love. Everything okay?’
‘Yeah fine, but we’re starving. I brought chips home. Do you want a cup of tea?’
‘Got one, love, thanks. You go and eat.’
Lucy escaped, glad that the house was almost empty. It would give her a chance to talk to Callum, and if Lucy couldn’t help, her mum would; she was great at giving advice. It struck her then, how much Callum had become a part of her life at home. He chatted to her family as if he had known them for years, and seemed just as happy in their company as he was in hers. Now that she thought about it, she realised how important this was to her. There had been times in the past when things had been very different – with Lucy’s last boyfriend for example. Not the same thing of course, but seeing how easily Callum had slotted into their lives was in stark contrast to the way she had always felt so on edge bringing Pete back. She smiled to herself. Her mum didn’t always say as much, but she was an excellent judge of character. The thought brought a sudden flush to her cheeks.
By the time she got back to the kitchen, Callum had already laid the table and put the plates o
ut, ready to dish up. He was just fetching the sauce from the cupboard as she moved past him to flick the kettle on.
‘Blimey, I’m hungry,’ she remarked as she began to unpeel the paper around the fish. She smiled when she saw that Callum had asked for it to be wrapped separately from the chips; that way the batter stayed crispy.
Callum came to stand behind her, inhaling deeply as the vinegary smell was released. ‘Yeah, me too.’ He smiled, reaching past her to take down mugs from the cupboard and set about making two huge mugs of tea, delivering them to the table only seconds after Lucy had laid out the food.
For a few moments, nothing further was said as they chewed steadily. Callum took a big swig of tea, closed his eyes and sighed.
‘Better?’ she asked.
‘Much,’ he said. ‘Thanks. I think I was hungrier than I realised.’
‘That doesn’t let you off the hook though,’ she added, waving her fork at him. ‘It wasn’t just hunger back there in the car park, was it?’
Callum grinned. ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘And now I feel like a complete prat as well.’
‘What? As well as odd and stupid?’
He gave a groan. ‘Don’t tease me, it’s bad enough.’
Lucy swallowed, looking at him intently. ‘Come on, tell me.’
For a minute she thought he was going to clam up on her again, but then he laid his knife and fork down. ‘I was in shock, I think. Phoebe’s boyfriend had just had a go at me in the car park. I thought he was going to beat the daylights out of me, to be honest.’
‘What, Gary? Why?’ she said, surprised. ‘Anyway, I thought he was a copper?’
