“Are they both coming here to visit?” Ronan asked.
“No, Joe has delayed. To be honest, I doubt he’ll come at all now he’s off to the Cotswolds, and I know he has some appointments coming up with his mum, so he won’t have time. He’s dealing with my house as well, although that should be straight forward. I’m a cash buyer, and there’s no chain.”
“How long did they tell you it would take?” he asked.
“Eight weeks but I’m expecting twelve. The survey hasn’t been done yet, which reminds me…”
I texted Joe to make sure he chased up the surveyor that he’d lined up before he headed off on his jaunt. Although I was more than happy to do it myself, Joe seemed reluctant to pass over the details. I just put that down to his control freak nature, and his, ‘I know best,’ attitude. He sent me a thumbs-up in reply. I sent him another text wishing him a wonderful trip and to take loads of photographs for me.
Ronan texted Rich to tell him Joe was in love with another man and we were all so pleased about that. I thought that to be more bitchy than my comments about Joe and Danny’s relationship, so I was pleased to been usurped in the ‘shit friend/relation’ department. However, I wasn’t sure I wanted Joe to end up with Rich either. He’d played Joe along like a good one for a long time.
“Relationships, huh?” I said, shaking my head and buttering some toast.
“Yep, who’d have one?” Ronan replied with a laugh.
My stomach knotted.
Maggie and I left for town. She drove the old Land Rover, and I was quite grateful for the fact it was old. I had to hold the door closed because the latch was broken. I wondered how roadworthy or legal the vehicle was but was assured there were no police locally. That didn’t comfort me. The reason I was grateful, however, was that Maggie didn’t seem to have any ‘spatial’ awareness. More specifically, she didn’t seem to understand width. The road was wider than the vehicle and straight. I could see for miles, yet she hugged the hedge at my side, the side where the door didn’t shut, and I was hanging on to it in the hopes it didn’t catch a branch and fling open, with me still clinging to it.
“You know, I might have lived in a city, but even I know you could move over to the centre of the road in a county lane,” I said and winced at the screech as another branch gouged the side of the motor. I was sure every tree and hedge would have a green paint stripe along it.
She didn’t appear to hear over the sound of the jet engine under the bonnet. The Land Rover was a real utility vehicle without any mod cons, least of all any form of soundproofing between the engine and the passengers. And I was sure I could see daylight through a hole in the footwell.
What the Land Rover was great for was parking. In the sense that she could abandon the vehicle anywhere and we’d never know if it had been hit. Every panel had a dent. She wrenched up the handbrake so hard that I knew it would take two hands to release when it was time, and turned off the engine.
“I love this old thing,” she said, patting the dash.
“I think it loves you, too,” I said, praying that it did so we’d get home in one piece.
“I remember when this was bought new. These things go on for years. Anyway, if you walk up the high street, you’ll see a horsey shop. They’ll have your wellies. There are a couple of nice clothes stores as well. How about we meet in the cafe for a coffee in…” she looked at her watch, “Half an hour? That gives me time to unload all this and chat.”
“Let me help you unload first,” I said.
She waved me off. “My girl will be out in a minute,” she said.
I hadn’t thought about Maggie and Charlie having children. Not that there had been cause to mention it, of course. As if on cue, a stunning redhead walked from the bakers. She didn’t resemble either, but her smile when she saw us was broad.
“Maggie,” she said, holding out her arms for a hug.
“Lizzie, this is one of my kids. One of many that Charlie and I fostered over the years. Angie, this is Lizzie. She’s Ronan’s friend.” I wanted to catch the hands that did the ‘quote marks’ before she even raised them. The emphasis on the word friend alerted me to the fact they were coming.
“Oh, Ronan’s friend,” Angie said, thankfully forgoing the quote marks. She held out her hand. “Ignore Maggie. She does love to embarrass us all at times.”
I shook her hand and there was something about her smile and her demeanour that made me sure she was a kind person.
“Lizzie needs wellies, so I’m sending her up to Greg’s,” Maggie said. I hoped Greg was the owner of the horse store rather than a cheap bakery.
“You’ll find plenty there. Tell him Maggie sent you. He was one of her boys as well. Might give you a discount, although I doubt it,” Angie said, with a laugh.
I left them to unload the pies and walked up the high street. People smiled and bade me a good morning, as they stood and chatted, discussed the news and the weather. Some I could understand, some had such heavy accents, but I thought my ears were getting attuned to it. I even found myself, at times, replicating how certain words were said.
I found the shop I was looking for. It wasn’t hard as I tripped over a stack of colourful plastic feed buckets that were set on the pavement outside the shop window. Once I’d righted them, a little bell rang as I opened the door.
“Lizzie? Come on in,” I heard. I looked to see a man up a ladder hanging a horse rug over a rack. “Angie rang to say you were on your way. Wellies you’re after, is it?”
Greg climbed down the ladder, and he took me aback. I don’t know what I expected, but he had a beauty that no man should have and that every woman would be jealous of. What held my gaze were his piercing blue eyes. It took me a moment to realise that he’d held out a hand for me to shake. I, eventually, took it.
“I’m doing the ‘London thing’ with the shake, but I understand we’re practically family so we should hug,” he said, with a laugh. I took a step back, and out of arms’ reach, just in case he wasn’t joking.
“You don’t sound Scottish,” I said, not sure if I was insulting or not.
“I left here as soon as I could. I’ve lived all over the world. I guess I have a mishmash of an accent.”
“But you came back,” I said.
“There’s something about this town that will always hold a piece of your heart. And when you’re ready to settle, you’ll come back to grab it.”
It was a profound statement from someone about my age, I guessed. I hoped that he had settled. He had a pleasant smile, mischievous eyes, and a tone of voice that cajoled, but something made me feel uneasy around him.
“That was very deep,” I said.
He placed his hands over his heart. “As deep as the ocean I am.” He laughed. “Anyway, you’re after some wellies, I hear?”
“Yes. I have walking boots, but they’re not man enough for the estate,” I said.
Greg led me to another room of clothing. There were jodhpurs, leather riding boots, Hunter’s Wellingtons, kiddie wellies, jackets and coats, jumpers and hats, gloves and scarves. Everything the modern and fashion-conscious horse owner could need.
“How about you have a look around, and I’ll finish putting those rugs away,” he offered.
I nodded my thanks. I was drawn to some thick woollen socks, the kind a nanna would knit. I expected them to itch, but they were as soft as cotton. I picked up a couple of pairs. I was also drawn to the purple wellies but thought them too I’m-from-London-and-I’ve-never-stepped-in-cow-shit-before so opted for a traditional green pair. I tried them on and, deciding they fitted, placed them on a chair. I added the socks and a gorgeous cream jumper—the kind of Aran knitwear I used to see in seventies knitting patterns or on adverts for Norwegian hand cream.
“How are you doing in there?” I heard.
“Good, I’m just going to try on a coat,” I said, picking up a waxed one.
“You’ll be all countrified before you know it,” came the reply, and I prickled a litt
le at that.
There were a lot of townies that never took the time to venture into the countryside and yet had an opinion on country life. I wasn’t one of them. I relished my time, as a child, in a caravan on a farm in Kent. Then, when I was a little older, the chalet on the beach in Cornwall. We could never afford to travel abroad when I was a child. In fact, the first flight I took was to Benidorm with my parents in my early teens. I hated it, they loved it, and it was where they retired to. There were only so many nights I could sit and watch Sticky Vicky pull items from her vagina in the guise of entertainment. I shuddered at the memory, still, each to their own.
The coat I had on was a perfect fit, and I loved how many pockets it had. I’d lose everything in them, of course, but it was going on my pile. It would be perfect for dog walking in the winter when I got home as well. I tried on a hat, added a pair of gloves and a scarf, and I was ready to pay.
Greg rang up my purchases, and I handed over my debit card.
“So, Ronan’s friend,” he said, over-emphasising the word, and I wondered why the fuck everyone felt the need to say it.
“Yes, his friend.”
Greg laughed, and I wasn’t sure what was so funny. “Since you’re just friends, if you fancy a night out, I put my number on the receipt,” he said, handing me three large bags.
I wasn’t sure how to reply initially. “Err, thanks.” I took my bags and left the shop.
Maggie was right, there were a couple of lovely clothes shops on the opposite side of the road, and I browsed through the window. I slowly walked back down, taking note of the chemist, the bakers, the butcher, a fishmonger and the fruit and veg shop all with colourful displays of produce making me think there would be no need for a supermarket in the area. Maggie had told me there was one in a purpose-built retail park a mile or so away if it was needed.
I met Maggie in the café and plonked my bags down under the table. I took a look around. “This is a gorgeous place,” I said.
There were tables set with floral tablecloths and china cups and saucers. Little silver spoons were laid beside them and in the centre of the table were small glass jars with fresh flowers. We ordered a coffee each, and I detailed all my purchases.
“I didn’t realise you fostered,” I said.
“Yes. It started by accident really. We had a tree surgeon working on the estate, and he had his young son with him all the time. Mum had run off, sadly. Anyway, it was just too much for Dad to manage. Verity helped, offering accommodation for free, but there were still bills to be paid and the job he had meant he needed to travel. So we offered to look after Aaron. Charlie and I enjoyed doing it, so we signed up as foster parents. We’ve had about thirty children over the years. Some stay for a little while, respite for the parents for whatever reason, and some for longer.”
“When did you stop?”
“We lived in one of the cottages, but when Verity started to—she sort of lost her mind for a while—we decided to move into the annexe to be closer for the boys. We fostered for a little longer, we had Angie and Greg at the time, but we needed to also look after Ronan and Rich, so we gave it up.”
“What happened to Angie and Greg?” I asked.
“Angie was sixteen, she was given accommodation, and Greg, who was fifteen, nearly sixteen at the time, moved to a relative’s, an aunt.”
“I thought about fostering a while ago, but my ex-husband wouldn’t have any of it.”
“Why didn’t you have your own kids, if that’s not too personal a question?” she asked.
“Not too personal at all. Harry couldn’t, and although we were candidates for donor sperm, we just never seemed to have the time for it.”
I didn’t add that Harry and I had many a conversation about it, and I’d never questioned his hesitancy or his reasons to wait until the following year. By the time I realised he was never going to be ready, it was too late for me. I didn’t want to be an old mum. I made myself believe that I could never have had a strong enough urge because it was better than acknowledging I’d been manipulated by my husband.
I owned wine goggles where everything looked rosy after a couple of glasses, and I also had Ronan goggles. Maybe the empathy that he thought I had was because of how he made me feel. When I wasn’t with him, my fondness for my ex dissolved.
If I delved too deep into my feelings for Ronan, I also saw the heartache that was to follow.
“I know Charlie said to wait, but is there a pet store here? I want to get a collar, and I didn’t think to look in the horse shop.”
“There is a feed merchant on the way home. I’m sure they would have dog things. I know Charlie has come home with a couple of beds from there. We can call in on the way back.”
I smiled in thanks, and we continued to chat and drink our coffee. We argued over who was to pay. She won, and I vowed to get the next one.
The feed merchant’s had a wide selection of pet products, and I picked up a small blue collar with a metal tag. I’d get the tag engraved when I settled on a name. I knew the puppies would be weaned soon, so I picked up a couple of bowls and a bed. I also threw in some towels embroidered with dogs. I’d remembered a programme on the TV once where the dog trainer recommended running a towel over mum to help newly homed pups settle. Pleased with those purchases, I added them to the back seat with my others, and we continued on home.
On the drive was a glazier’s van, and I could see a man replacing some glass in the library windows. Charlie was behind, repainting the frames even though I thought the weather was too cold. Surely it wouldn’t dry, and in the morning there would just be a white line where it had run over the grey brick and puddled on the gravel floor. I kept my thoughts to myself, of course.
I took my purchases to the bedroom while Maggie headed off to the kitchen. I decided to text Ronan, not knowing where he was:
Hey, I’m back with new wellies and a coat, among other things.
He replied:
I’m at the cottages, walk on up in your new coat and wellies, among other things.
I chuckled at his reply and decided I would. I pulled on the warm woollen socks and carried the wellies and coat downstairs.
“I’m going to meet Ronan,” I said, as I poked my head through the kitchen door.
“Have fun,” Maggie replied.
Having spent a few minutes trying to find an exit button on the newly repaired gates, I eventually started my journey up the lane. It wasn’t far, we’d walked it before, but I hadn’t realised how uphill it was. I puffed and panted my way only to nearly end up in the hedge as a car sped past me. I shouted after it and then panicked when it stopped. I had nowhere to go, and I certainly wasn’t going to turn around. I watched the reverse lights come on, and I stood tall. The car reversed until it was alongside me—had it been an inch closer its mirror would have hit me.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you until it was too late,” I heard. I leaned down and baulked. Sitting in the driver’s seat was Ronan’s ex-wife.
“For someone who lives here, who drives these lanes regularly, I would have hoped that you might have thought about your speed,” I said, not backing down.
“Oh, it’s you… I said I was sorry. Now I’ve been suitably chastised, can I go?”
“You chose to stop and reverse, but yes, you can go.” I stood and stepped as close to the hedge as I could.
She drove off but noticeably slower. A thought came to my mind. Ronan believed she had been instrumental in the death of Demi. Nothing had been proven, of course, and he could, in his grief, have it very wrong, but this road was a straight lane, and there is no way I couldn’t be seen. I looked down to my hands and noticed they were shaking.
“Stop being stupid,” I said to myself, and I carried on walking.
I could see the three cottages ahead, and I could also see the car slow. Carol nearly came to a halt, and Ronan stood and stared at her with his arms crossed over his chest. She obviously thought better of stopping, as her wheels spun on the
old tarmac kicking up dust and stones, causing Ronan to turn his back as a shield. I wanted to curse her.
“Nice boots!” he said, with a smile as I got closer.
“Thank you. Did she say anything to you?”
“No, why?”
“She nearly ran me off the road—we had words.”
He reached into his pocket for his mobile. “She nearly…what?”
“What are you doing?”
“Calling her,” he replied.
“And then she knows you, and I are bothered. Put the phone down. Why have you still got her number anyway?” I asked, regretting that question immediately. “Sorry, it’s none of my business. Just don’t call. I told her to slow down, she apologised, end of matter.”
He replaced the phone in his pocket and didn’t answer my question.
He reached out to wrap me in his arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I melted a little. “I was a bit shaken, to be honest. I don’t do confrontation normally. It was that, give someone the finger and then they reverse. I could hardly run anywhere, so I told her off.”
Ronan laughed at my comments. “I’m glad you’re okay, but I will have words with her, Lizzie. Now, come on in, let me show you what we’ve done.”
He led me to the first cottage; the one Manuel had lived in. It was completely transformed. A wall between the kitchen diner and the living room had been removed, making it one large L-shaped space. Patio doors had been installed in the back, and the light that poured into the rooms was blinding. The white walls reflected that, and the cream carpet warmed the room. I made a point to only walk on the plastic that had been laid to keep the carpet clean and followed the room to the kitchen.
“It’s lovely, Ronan,” I said.
The kitchen was fully fitted with stainless steel appliances, ready for someone to move straight in.
“The other two are the same, and Charlie was right, I contacted the college, and I’ve got two of these rented out for a year already.”
Limp Dicks & Saggy Tits Page 28
