‘Hi, can I help you?’ She smiles. If the fluffy waist-length hair wasn’t giveaway enough, the pink dress might as well have had her name embroidered on it. To give her credit, she’s still smiling at me even though I’ve taken far too long to say anything.
‘Er,’ I falter. There’s something about meeting someone for the first time after a Facebook-stalking binge that quite rightly makes you squirm with discomfort. ‘A cat. I wondered if you’d seen a cat. Mrs Pearson from down the way has lost one. Ruby it’s called. Ginger thing, vomits a lot … Some of us from Prescott’s have been out looking for it but we’re having no luck.’
‘Aw poor Mrs P. I haven’t seen anything but I’ll check the shed out back and give Eddy a call if I find anything.’
Eddy? The familiarity with which she says the word makes my skin prickle. I don’t see Edward as an Eddy at all but then, why would I? He’s my boss not my mate from down the pub.
‘Thanks, that’s great. Yes, just let … Eddy know.’ I cringe when I say it.
‘Will do.’ She smiles and does a little shoulder hitch. ‘Take care, lovey, and I hope you find Ruby.’
I smile and wave my hand as Otis bounces to his feet. Nobody else on the street has seen the cat so I head back to the little junction near the practice and start on the next one. A woman at the third house thinks she saw her about half an hour ago, hiding in her garden. She lets me go in and check and it dawns on me that the last time I saw this bloody cat, I was pinning her down against her will. I hope the rumour that cats hold grudges isn’t true. As I forage under the shrubs, I get the uneasy feeling that I’m being watched. What if Ruby pounces on me? I glance at Otis who’s lounging around on a sunny patch of grass. Surely if I was in imminent danger, he’d be poised to help?
I crawl a bit further into the thick shrubbery. Something is rustling to my right. I freeze and it stops.
‘Ruby?’ I call. I have no idea if cats respond to hearing their names being called but I have nothing else. ‘Here, Ruby.’
All of a sudden, a flash of ginger whizzes past me, causing a prickly branch to hit me in the face. ‘Ouch.’ The bloody thing nearly took my eye out. Otis is going mad, barking his head off in giddy exhilaration. By the time I crawl out from the undergrowth, there’s no sign of the cat anywhere. I take out my phone and dial Edward.
‘Hi, I found the cat but—’
‘That’s brilliant. Where are you?’ he says.
‘I’m at number 3 Rose Terrace but listen, I’ve lost her again. If you come quickly we might be able to find her.’
‘On my way.’
I plonk myself down next to Otis, who seems to have calmed down.
‘We make a crap team,’ I say, stroking his head. He looks up at me like he couldn’t care less. He made a big row on sighting the cat – his work here is done.
‘God. Stephanie, are you all right?’ I turn to see Edward running out from the lady’s kitchen.
‘I’m fine. Listen, based on Otis’s barking I think she went over the back fence. It leads to the path by the river. You go. I’ve scared her half to death and Otis tried his damnedest to scare the other half of her into an early grave. I think she’ll run away as soon as she catches sight of us.’
‘Okay, but I want you to go and wait for me at the practice.’ He reaches in his pocket and takes something out. ‘Here’s the key. Let yourself in and grab a cuppa. I want to take a look at that cut on your head.’
What cut? I raise my hand to the smarting part of my forehead. It’s moist. When I glance at my fingertips, they’re bright red. ‘Okay. Let me know if you have any bother. As you can see, I’m a complete pro at this.’
He smiles before darting off. I thank the lady who owns the garden and apologise for my plant ruffling. She wishes me well and I make my way towards the practice.
I head into the toilet to assess the damage. Injury wise, I’ll live. Aesthetically, it’s a travesty. My forehead looks a real mess and I’m filthy. My pale-yellow sweater is grass-stained and my light blue jeans have damp mud ground into the knees – I look like one of those kids in a Persil advert in the Nineties. I wet some loo roll and start to dab at the cuts and grazes, taking particular care around the deeper cut on my head that’s still oozing blood. I repeat the process a few times and when the wounds look clean, I go and sit in the waiting area, holding a clean tissue to the nastier wound. I scroll my phone to pass the time and I’m not sure how long has passed when the door tinkles and opens.
‘Sorry, that took longer than I imagined. I swear that bloody cat has an axe to grind with me. She certainly got her revenge for all the times I’ve had to inject her,’ he says, pointing to a tear in his T-shirt.
I laugh softly. ‘In hindsight, we were probably the worst two people to be searching for that cat.’
‘Well, a tin of tuna did the trick and now Ruby has been reunited with Mrs Pearson and all is right with the world.’ He catches sight of me. ‘Apart from your head. I need to take a look at that.’
‘Honestly, it’s just a cut.’
‘It’s still bleeding. Let me have a look to see if you’re going to need a stitch or two.’
Edward kneels in front of me. I remove the tissue and immediately after, warm liquid trickles down my forehead.
‘Hang on.’ Edward rises to his feet and heads through to the examination area. Beyond that is the operating room and a little storeroom where all the supplies are kept. He returns moments later with some sterile wipes and cotton wool.
‘You don’t mind if I …’ He gestures towards the pack of wipes and I nod for him to go ahead. ‘It might sting a little.’
He dabs at the cut with the wipe and despite his gentle touch, a burning pain sears my entire forehead and I wince.
Edward flinches. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘No, it’s me being a baby. I’m okay, I promise.’
When he gets to work the second time, the area has numbed a little and it isn’t so bad. I’m more taken with how gentle, yet diligent Edward is. I suppose some of the animals he treats are tiny; like little mice and hamsters and things, so he has to be. His hands are soft and his fingers long. I wonder if he ever played the piano. I’d heard doctors often take up hobbies that require good dexterity; like knitting or piano because it helps keep their fingers nimble. I’d ask him but it seems a bit weird.
‘I think you’ll get away without a trip to A & E,’ he says looking me in the eyes. He’s so close, his cool, minty breath tickles my skin. I swallow and nod. I don’t trust my voice to work. ‘I’ll pop a couple of steri-strips on though, just to make sure it heals well.’
‘Okay, thank you.’ I glance at Otis who’s unaccustomed to so many walks in one day and is sleeping his doggy head off.
‘Just call me Florence.’ He smiles. ‘You’ll have to keep the area dry and make sure you don’t scratch them or I will have to cone you.’
‘I’ll try,’ I say, smiling back.
I think I understand Edward now. His thoughtful, kind and caring nature confused me. I mistook his good nature as attraction, but I think that was wishful thinking on my part. If I remove the rose-tinted glasses, he’s like this with everyone. Today, he’s given up his day off for Mrs Pearson and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t challenge Carly on all the smoking breaks because he knows she is finding parenting stressful and needs that quiet time.
‘How about a celebratory drink at the pub?’ he asks. ‘There are no dogs allowed in but it’s a nice enough day to sit in the beer garden.’
I glance at my watch for no reason than to stall my answer and stop myself from shouting ‘yes’ too quickly. It’s just gone four. The kids will have spent hours with Kate now. Is it awful that I haven’t thought about it once since joining Edward’s cat hunt?
‘That sounds wonderful.’
‘Okay, give me a few minutes to clear all this away and tidy myself up,’ he says, scooping up the empty steri-strip wrappers and wipe packets.
Ten minutes later, we’re walking a
long the riverbank to the pub. I get a pang in my stomach. ‘My kids are just a few miles along this river having ice cream and meeting their dad’s new girlfriend.’
Edward stops walking. ‘Are you okay about it?’
I shrug. ‘I thought so, and to be honest, my new career as a cat-catcher has taken precedence. I haven’t thought about it once until now. I just hope they’re okay. I honestly have no idea how they’re going to react to it. Obviously, Henry will be none the wiser, but Ava and Ralph …’
Edward puts his hand on my shoulder. Heat radiates through me. ‘Whatever they feel, they will always have you. That won’t change regardless of who enters or leaves their lives.’
‘I hope so,’ I say. ‘I thought I’d always have my mum but I lost her when I was five.’ That comes from somewhere so deep inside me, I don’t think anyone other than Edward could have unlocked it.
‘Oh, Stephanie, I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.’
‘I can hardly remember her really and that’s the saddest part.’ I coil Otis’s lead around my hand.
‘Was she poorly?’
‘No.’ I swallow hard. ‘She was … attacked.’
‘Oh my God.’ He clutches his hand to his mouth.
I stop walking to watch the steady flow of the river. The memory is still so vivid despite the thirty-something years that have passed.
‘Be quiet, the witches will hear us.’
I can still picture myself in that pink tutu; two of my steps to every one of hers. My eyes fall closed as I’m taken back to that night.
I squeeze Mummy’s hand tighter. I never know whether to believe her when she talks about the witches in the park. I thought they were made up but Mummy wouldn’t lie, would she? It’s pitch-black and the park doesn’t seem as fun as it normally does; nobody is laughing on the swings or zipping down the slide. We walk through this same park every week to get to my dance class but since the winter nights have started to draw in, it’s become darker and I wish Mummy would drive us instead. I glance around, looking for signs of witches, straining my ears for a cackle. Warm yellow lights from the houses around the park add to the spooky effect. I’ll be glad when this short walk is over.
As we near the end of the path, there’s a shelter where the Sunday morning football players can sit and put their boots on. The air is filled with a weird, sour smoky smell and there are people talking in the distance. Witches? My heart starts beating fast but Mummy keeps walking towards them. I try to pull her back but she just pulls me forwards with ten times my strength.
‘Almost there,’ she whispers.
The voices don’t sound like witches and I start to relax. It’s just some teenagers.
‘Nice bag you got.’ It’s a male voice but I can’t see his face. I glance at Mummy’s handbag. She hates me playing with it but sometimes when I’m playing dress-up, she puts it on me for a minute. He’s right, it is nice.
Mum doesn’t reply, which seems rude. Instead, she speeds up towards the alleyway that leads to the dance school. She’s pulling me faster than I can walk.
‘Slow down, Mummy,’ I whine but she doesn’t speak. All of a sudden, she stops. When I look up, a teenager is blocking the alleyway. There are walls either side of us, making it impossible to walk around him.
‘Excuse me,’ Mummy says in her stern voice. She’s probably mad that I’m going to be late for class again.
‘Said I like your bag, didn’t I?’
He must be annoyed that Mummy didn’t say thank you.
‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Can I get by? We’re late,’ she says politely.
‘Gimme your bag and I’ll move.’
Mummy steps backwards and turns, yanking my arm. Two more teenagers are blocking the other direction. Why would they want a handbag? They’re boys.
‘Do your mothers know you’re out, harassing folk? I’ll report you to the police,’ she says. She uses her stern voice again but it wobbles a little.
One of the boys laughs. Another lunges forwards and grabs the strap of Mummy’s bag. Something silver glints in the moonlight but it’s so quick, I don’t see what it is. Mummy gasps, like the time I was winded on the bouncy castle. The boys run off.
‘Stephanie, run to dance. Don’t stop … running … until you’re inside. Tell them … Mummy is in the park … in trouble … ambulance.’ Her eyes are wide as she falls to the ground. She looks worried so I do as she says. I run and I don’t stop until I reach the dance school and tell my teacher everything.
‘Steph?’
I snap back to where I am, by the river. ‘I haven’t thought about it for a long time.’
‘I’m so sorry. What an incredibly awful thing to have gone through. I hope you had the help and support you needed.’
‘Well, it was a long time ago now.’ The familiar swell of sadness threatens my composure so I bend down and kiss Otis on his head. I never tell people this story. Even at secondary school, I kept it to myself because I didn’t want to be known as the kid whose mum was killed.
‘She was stabbed by some mindless thugs who tried to mug her. I was there but I didn’t really see anything … The worst part is how senseless it was. I didn’t get it at the time, I was too distraught, but the more I grew up, the more angry I got.’
‘I can’t imagine how terrible that must have been for you and your family,’ Edward says softly.
‘I don’t remember the aftermath much. I know they were caught and sentenced but it didn’t help our family. All the grown-ups tried to shield me from their conversations. I remember my dad’s face. All slack and hollow. He lost loads of weight and never really seemed like my dad after. I guess his spark had died with Mum.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Edward says. ‘You don’t have to tell me any of this if it’s too difficult but I’m here to listen if you want to.’
‘It’s sort of relevant to how I’m feeling today, you see. I’d made this pact to be the best mum I could in honour of her because that’s what she was to me. From what I remember, she was wonderful, so you’re right, I will be there for those kids but I can’t take it for granted either. I should be making every minute with them count but the reality is I spend most of my time yelling or barking orders at them.’
‘You’re a great mum and a strong woman, Stephanie,’ Edward says but the truth is, I don’t feel like either of those things. When something awful happens in your life, you have no option but to carry on.
There’s a table in the beer garden overlooking the river and Edward asks me to grab it while he gets the drinks in. He’s insisted on buying since I came to help him catch Ruby. I know he’s just trying to cheer me up but it’s working.
‘Here you are,’ he says, placing half a lager and some dry-roasted peanuts in front of me. He has a pint and some of those posh salt and vinegar crisps. ‘I love it here,’ he says, tearing open his packet. A family of ducks waddle along the riverbank and a heron swoops down to the water.
‘I’ve never been here. The pub in our village is pretty decent too so on the rare occasion I go to a pub, I tend to go there. I’m surprised you ever get the chance; you always seem so busy with work. Look at you here, on a Saturday, drinking with an employee after hunting for a client’s cat.’
‘I do work a lot but I tend to pop in here at least once a week.’
‘Who with?’ I blurt the words out and immediately want to claw them back. A flicker of surprise runs across his face. ‘Sorry, it’s just that you said your friends all lived away but obviously, you could still have some friends here or a date or you could come by yourself and all of those things are okay.’ I can’t seem to shut up. The corners of Edward’s eyes crinkle and I’m glad I haven’t offended him.
‘Sometimes I come for a quiet pint after work, especially if it’s been a stressful day. I’m on first-name terms with most of the bar staff so there’s always someone to chat to and there’s a woman in the village who I meet here sometimes.’
There’s a h
eaviness inside me at the thought of him and Stacy here, laughing away over Blue Lagoons with bright paper umbrellas in or whatever it is she drinks. ‘That’s nice,’ I manage.
‘It’s not like that; she’s just a friend.’
I don’t know what he thinks I was implying. I didn’t imply anything. My heart rate picks up. Oh God, now he thinks I’m sad because he has a girlfriend. ‘Hey, you’re the boss. I’m not paid to judge; it’s your personal time you can do whatever you want.’
Hang on. Why did he want me to understand it’s not like that? I need to change the subject before things get any more awkward. ‘So, where did you study to be a vet?’
Thankfully, the conversation moves into a more comfortable zone and we chat and laugh about our uni years.
‘Can I get you another drink?’ Edward asks, gesturing to my empty glass.
‘I’d better not. I’m driving and Otis needs his dinner. I should get home.’
His features drop a little but he pulls them back up and into a smile. ‘Of course. Thank you for your help today.’
‘It was no problem,’ I say, gathering my bag and unclipping Otis’s lead from the bench leg.
‘I’ll check on your cut first thing Monday, but try to keep it dry. If it does get wet, pat it gently with a towel.’
‘Will do. Enjoy the rest of your weekend,’ I say.
Chapter 26
The house has had the soul sucked out of it. I thought the kids might have FaceTimed me tonight but I’ve heard nothing from them and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing really. My mind flits between imagining them having a fun evening with movies, popcorn and lots of laughing with Kate, versus them in floods of tears and Mike trying to console them unsuccessfully. Neither scenario sits well with me.
I try to phone Janey. She’s been AWOL recently and I know she’s having a rough time with Jimmy. She puts on a brave face but I know deep down she’s hurting and seemed like she was on the verge of doing something quite drastic. She doesn’t answer, instead, her phone goes straight to answerphone but I don’t leave a message. I pour myself a gentle G&T and sit down to read a couple of chapters of Pet Sematary. To be honest, I can’t see it helping with my night fear but Janey wanted to read it and I want to do it for her. As I’m getting to the bottom of the first page of the day, my phone pings.
The Single Mums' Book Club Page 13
