by Tara Ford
It was just too tempting to leave the binoculars safely stashed away at the back of the drawer. Just one little look. Just to check. Then she would try to get on with her day. Just one quick peep…
She would risk the possibility of Georgie seeing her again. What were the odds of that happening twice? Just one quick peep…
Nothing.
Not even a randy wild rabbit, skittering through the fields. Tiff was standing well back in the room, out of view from the gardens below. She hated herself for doing this. For prying into other people’s affairs but it was like it had become an unhealthy obsession. She was beginning to question her own sanity.
A clicking sound came from the front door. She froze and strained her ears to listen. The door opened. She pulled the binoculars away from her face and tiptoed towards the drawer. Thudding footsteps pounded the stairs. Joe arrived at the top of the stairs just as she threw the binoculars in the drawer and closed it behind her. Their eyes met and puzzled frowns furrowed their brows. “What…” began Tiff.
“Are you…” Joe said at the same time.
Their mutual gaze continued momentarily, before he staggered to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. “Won’t be a minute – busting for a pee,” he said from behind the door.
Tiff inched out of the craft room and quietly closed the door behind her. Moments later, the toilet flushed and Joe appeared from behind the bathroom door. “Are you OK?” he asked, a worried expression on his face.
She nodded.
“What were you going to say as I came tearing up the stairs?”
Tiff smiled sheepishly, “I wondered why the heck you were charging up the stairs – you made me jump.” She let out a sigh of relief. “I can see why now. What were you going to say?”
Joe reached out for her hand and guided her down the stairs. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost babe – I wondered if you were OK.”
“Oh – yeah, fine.”
“What were you throwing in the drawer?” he asked, impassively, as he pulled her through to the kitchen.
“Oh… just some old craft stuff. Trying to sort that room out still.”
“OK.” Joe turned and beamed. “Sorry if I made you jump.” He pulled her close and kissed her gently on the lips. “I should have used the loo round Betty’s but I just wanted to get the job done and get back here, to you.” He kissed her again, softly and purposefully. “She kept making me one tea after another.”
It was dawning on her. How could she have been so narrow minded, so skeptical and suspicious? It was plainly obvious, yet she had forgotten about the birds, about Cyril’s incapacity, about their promise to clean the aviaries for as long as it took. How could she doubt Joe? Was she going mad? Anyway, she needed to take a look at her own actions, her own sly behaviour, long before she accused Joe of anything underhand.
Housework had never been so much fun. Between kissing and hoovering, petting and polishing and full-blown sex while attempting to clean the bathroom, Joe and Tiff had completely rekindled their love affair in the privacy and comfort of their beautiful new home. Beautiful in the sense that it was theirs and not in the overall appearance – there were still so many odd-jobs to do.
“Why didn’t you wake me up this morning? I would have helped you with the birds.” Tiff stroked a hand across Joe’s bare chest. She looked up to see his eyes closed and smiled to herself. Wrapped snugly in his arms, an overwhelming contentment filled her. She would stay here, in their bed, and drift off to sleep for a while, just like he was doing. There was no rush to jump out of bed and carry on with the housework. It could wait. Moments like this were too precious to leave. The doubting issues were contrived by her own folly. She had to realise that now.
“Meant to tell you,” muttered Joe as he ploughed through his perfectly made Sunday roast. “Aaron said hello. He called me this morning while I was up to my elbows in bird shit.”
“Aaron?”
“My brother, Aaron?” Joe raised his eyebrows, amusedly. “He wants to visit us soon – he’s got a girlfriend he wants to introduce to us.”
“Really? Aaron’s finally got a girlfriend who’s worth introducing to the family?”
Joe sniggered. “Yeah – he must consider her to be something special. He’s never wanted anyone in the family to meet his previous girlfriends.”
Tiff rested her knife and fork on the sides of her plate. “What’s her name – do you know?”
Joe frowned, thoughtfully, while he chewed the piece of chicken in his mouth. “Think it’s… err… Jenny,” he said, gulping down the last piece in his mouth. “Yes – Jenny. She’s got a shop, like Mum’s.”
“When are they coming?”
Joe eyed the food on his plate and tossed a few peas around. “Err… couple of weeks, maybe.”
“OK,” said Tiff, nodding her head amicably, “that’ll be nice.” She picked her knife and fork up again and proceeded to finish her meal. “You’ve done a great job with the dinner – might have to let you cook all the time.”
Joe grinned, proudly. “And another thing…” He broke off and stuffed half a roast potato in his mouth, chewing it at speed.
“Yes?”
“We’ve been invited out next Saturday.”
“By who?”
“Wayne and Hayley.” He shoved another fork-full into his mouth, as if he were nervously racing to finish his meal. “They…” he mumbled, “It’s a big night out. At the err… community centre again.”
“Oh, another quiz night?”
“No, not a quiz night, it’s a charity disco… or something like that. You know, new dress and all that.”
“New dress? Really? For the community centre?”
Joe set his knife and fork neatly across his empty plate. “Yes, why what’s up with that?”
“Nothing. I just wondered. What’s it for then?”
“I don’t know really. Wayne just said we should go as their charity nights are really good.”
“OK.”
“There’ll be food there, I think.” Joe shifted his gaze away from Tiff’s and stared pensively through the patio doors. “Thought we could go and have some fun – what do you think?”
“Yes, OK. Do I really need to get a new dress though?”
“Yes, Hayley is. I’m sure that’s what Wayne said anyway. It’s about time you treated yourself to a nice new dress. We might go off somewhere else after the disco, like a casino or something.”
Tiff eyed him doubtfully. “So when did you plan all of this?”
Joe peered down at his plate and straightened his perfectly straight knife and fork. “Err… this morning. He texted me so I called him while I was doing the birds.”
“Blimey,” Tiff could hear the sarcasm building in her voice, “you were busy this morning. How did you find time to clean the bird cages?”
Joe shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.
“Who else called or texted you this morning?”
“No one else. Just them two.” Rising from his seat, he picked both plates up and carried them across to the kitchen sink. Then he turned to the kettle and flicked it on. “Tea or coffee?”
“Tea please and that meal was lovely. Thank you.”
Joe winked a long-lashed eye at her before pulling two mugs out from the cupboard. “I’m going to… well, Wayne said I should wear a suit. Especially if we do go to a casino after. I’ll get a new one in the week. I could do with a new one.”
“Blimey – we’re going all-out then?”
“Why not, babe. It’s about time we had a bloody good night out.”
“We had one last night.”
“That was special – just you and me. But we’ve made some good friends in Wayne and Hayley, so we should go out a lot more with them. Don’t you think so?”
“Yes.” Tiff nodded and smiled. “Yes, I suppose we should.”
“Good,” Joe replied, like he was thankful. “It’s not all about the house – we will enjoy our hard-earned money i
n other ways too. So, it’s a date, yes?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Tiff giggled and suddenly felt the most at ease with him, that she had felt in quite a while.
Joe beamed and raised his eyebrows at the same time. “New dress – get one by Friday or… I’ll go out and buy one for you myself.”
“I will, without fail – there’s no way you are buying me a dress. No way, Mr Frey.”
It had been a little awkward to go back to work on Monday and dish out a bank of lies, to anyone who cared to listen to Tiff’s tales, about her terribly sore throat, which had then led to Tonsillitis. She hated lying to people and was sure that her ruddy complexion should have given it all away. Yet, they believed her. She’d had such a good attendance record in the past that it was only natural that they would soak-up every deceitful word she said. She even surprised herself with how easy it was to lie to people and get away with it.
Thursday came around very quickly and Tiff’s hard work, all week, had paid off. Guiltily, she was taking the afternoon off to go shopping for a new dress. She wasn’t going to at first, but having mentioned the fact that she was going out on Saturday night, to her boss and her other colleagues, they had practically insisted that she take time off to go shopping – even if she had had the previous week off.
The girls in the studio had spent the week discussing the best colours for Tiff’s complexion and hair colour, they’d deliberated over dress styles, shoes, accessories and even underwear. Tiff was perplexed by their attention to detail and unexpected interest in her weekend wear, yet she took all the advice on board and now had an image in her mind of exactly what she wanted.
Laden with paper bags, from boutiques she would have never normally considered shopping in, Tiff left the lay-by and started to walk up the path, around the green. It had been another glorious week of sunshine and according to the weather experts, it was set to stay for another week or so. Tiff’s week had been full of sunshine, inside and out. The envy monster, within her, had retreated thankfully, and her week with Joe had been calm, trusting and loving. She had decided not to mention the text messages; it was better left that way. For now, at least. It had all become a little too confusing now and Tiff had decided that those questionable things were best left well alone.
Dazedly, she halted and looked up at the figure standing directly in front of her, on the path. “Alvin?” she muttered, instinctively.
Glaring down at her, his beady, dark eyes, burned into her own.
“Or should I say Jeremy?” she whispered, her heart beating rapidly in her throat.
Alvin’s tight features turned into a scowl as his brow furrowed. He swivelled his eyes from one side to the other and spoke in a hushed voice, “You… You, stupid woman.”
Tiff gasped at his words. “I beg your pardon.”
Alvin shifted his gaze from one side to the other like he was checking for anyone within listening distance. He leant over and glared deep into Tiff’s eyes. “It’s not, Jeremy,” he spat. “Do you have any idea?”
“Sorry?” Tiff’s heart raced in her chest. “I know…”
“Know what?” Alvin chimed in. “What do you think you know?” His pointed nose screwed up disdainfully and his eyes narrowed. “You know nothing.”
Taking a step back, Tiff puffed out her chest and stood tall, while clutching hold of her bags with a vice-like grip. She was surprised by her own resolve, “I… I know all about you.”
“Have you any idea –” Alvin broke off sharply, straightened his back and cleared his throat. Again his shifty eyes twitched as he viewed the green. “You nearly blew my cover,” he said in a quiet voice.
Tiff stared at him incredulously. “But you’re not Alvin, you’re Jeremy, I check…”
“Don’t you get it?” Alvin cut in, “That’s my cover.” He rubbed a hand across his brow and sighed. “You nearly blew the whole thing apart. This can’t go any further.”
“Well, I’m sorry but… I don’t believe you.” Tiff drew in a deep breath and held it.
“Quite frankly, I don’t care what you believe,” he whispered, “it’s got nothing to do with you and you should not get involved in things much bigger than yourself.”
“But you’re…” Tiff broke off thoughtfully. “I know who you are Jeremy. Jeremy Greene.”
Alvin met Tiff’s eyes with a hateful glare. He gulped and his prominent Adam’s apple rose and fell sharply.
“Yes,” Tiff continued, “I know exactly who you are. I know exactly what you do and… and I know you live with your mum.”
Alvin took a step back, shook his head and stared at her suspiciously. He opened his mouth but no words came out.
“You’ve been working at that shop for over 20 years. Isn’t that right Jeremy Greene?” Tiff swallowed hard as her nerves jangled and her heartbeat felt like it was thumping in her throat. Pure fear fueled her onwards. “Well? I am right, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am a secret agent,” he muttered. “You blew it and you should keep your nose out of my affairs. I’m the spy – not you. Don’t forget it. I’m Alvin Snodgrass, working for the secret service, a spy-extraordinaire, the very best and you’d better… you’d better watch your back.”
“Oh, you’re threatening me now, are you?” Tiff stepped back terrified but continued to feign a strong front.
“Not threatening you,” Alvin rubbed his nose nervously as his eyes continued to dart around Sycamore Close. “Warning you, that’s all. Don’t interfere in things you know nothing about.” Alvin’s persona had become edgy as he shifted from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable.
“But I do know.” Tiff looked past him and pointed to his house. “That house, your house… it’s in the name of Jeremy… Jeremy Greene. That’s you!”
Alvin appeared to freeze momentarily, his eyes fixed on hers, as if he was contemplating his next point of attack. “Just keep well away from me – you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snarled, before pushing past her and scurrying off towards the lay-by on the main road.
Tiff took a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders. She turned and watched Alvin/Jeremy climb into his car and shoot off down the road. She stared, incredulously, as the car weaved across the lanes, as the engine revved noisily, going faster and faster. He was guilty of a pack of lies. She knew it. And he knew she knew it.
“So, I now know that it’s definitely true.” Tiff propped her chin up and gazed out of the patio doors.
“I’m not having him threatening you like that though.” Joe stroked her arm gently.
“He doesn’t scare me. He’s a completely delusional freak.” She broke off and looked at Joe. “Actually, he did terrify me. Can’t believe how brave I was. Yep – delusional freaks freak me out.”
“Yes but those are the kind of weirdos who have totally lost their minds and could attack someone.”
Tiff sighed and lifted her head. “Now you’re being delusional – I don’t think he’s capable of attacking anyone. And…” The faint hum of Joe’s mobile phone, vibrating in his pocket, caused Tiff to break off. She peered at him and forced a smile. “Going to see who it is?” she asked, a little too impatiently.
“Err… yeah.” Reluctantly, Joe pulled the phone out and peered at the screen. “Ah, just missed it,” he said, thumbing the screen.
“Who was it?”
“Just… nobody really.”
Tiff frowned. “It can’t have been nobody.”
Letting out a chuckle, he looked up as he slid the phone back into his pocket. “No, of course not… it was only… Wayne.”
“Wayne?”
“Yeah, golf… Saturday morning I’m guessing.”
“Give him a call back.” Tiff’s mind was already working overtime.
Joe pulled himself up from the chair and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll call him later – no problems.”
It wasn’t Wayne. That’s what you always say. Tiff stared across the room at him. It wa
s happening again. The raw emotions of distrust had resurfaced, no matter how much she tried to fight them back. Joe was useless at lying. His shifty gaze and edgy persona were no better covered up than Alvin’s.
“Joe?”
“Yes, babe?” He swivelled on his heels to face her.
“Who was that call from really?”
His mouth dropped. “Wayne, I just told you.”
“Then why do I find it hard to believe you?”
Joe laughed nervously. “I don’t know babe – maybe this bloody Alvin/Jeremy business is getting to you.”
“Maybe it is,” Tiff began to backtrack, for fear of another big argument. “I’m sor…”
“Babe.”
Tiff looked at him pleadingly.
“Don’t start being sorry again – please. Now, do you want to show me your dress or have some tea first?”
Tiff smiled weakly. “I don’t mind – you decide.”
“Dinner it is then. I’m cooking again, so if you want to get a shower or bath, go and do it. And don’t forget babe…”
“What?”
“I love you.”
It was very odd that Joe should leave his phone lying on the dining table. He’d left for work some 30 minutes ago. Tiff tutted to herself. She didn’t really have time to look through it and it wasn’t even on anyway. She picked up her bag and jacket and left the house.
As she locked the front door, Tiff was aware of the door, to her left, opening. She turned and stared.
“Morning,” chirped Georgie, a wide, lipstick grin across her face. Wearing a pale blue, cotton jacket, white top, white canvas trousers and Cath Kidston, floral canvas pumps, she looked fresh and pretty. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and apart from her rose-pink lips, her eye make-up was subtle. “Off to work?”
