by Ashley Croft
‘The pressure? What pressure?’
‘The pressure of trying to earn enough to pay for this place …’ Niall said slowly as if Sarah was stupid. ‘I thought I could handle supporting you and the mortgage. I thought I could do it all but I was wrong. I should have been more honest. Vanessa always said that I’m the type of man who takes on too much and I can’t say no to people who need me. It’s why I kept getting those rashes.’
‘But … you said it was the washing powder I was using on your shirts. You said you were OK when I switched to non-bio …’ Sarah’s voice tailed off as the full impact of Niall’s words began to sink in. She could still hardly believe the injustice of what he was saying.
‘Wait a minute. You told me you were fine with me giving up my job to start the business. I know it’s been tough but orders have been taking off recently and it’s prime wedding-prep season. It’ll get better, I promise. I’ll work night and day.’
‘It’s not only the financial stuff, it’s me too. My psyche will be strangled if I stay here.’
‘Your psyche? What the bloody hell does that mean?’
‘Keep your voice down! Mrs Sugden will hear.’
‘I don’t care if she thinks I’m killing you!’ Sarah’s disbelief had morphed into anger. ‘What the hell has Vanessa been doing to you?’
‘Leave Vanessa out of this. It’s my decision. I thought I was happy settling down here, but I was stagnating.’
‘Stagnating? Well, yeah, that figures, you’re definitely pond scum.’
‘I know you’re bound to be upset and hurt but this isn’t like you. You used to be such a … such a nice laid-back girl.’
‘Well what do you expect, when I get home to find my partner having pervy sex with Miss Whiplash?’
‘Bondage isn’t pervy. Everyone does it nowadays as you’d know if you had a bit of imagination.’
Sarah gasped. She would have to tell him about the baby. Surely he’d come to his senses and see what a dick he was being about the house if he found out she was having his child?
‘We’ve been together for a few years,’ said Niall, hardly able to look her in the eye. ‘It’s been great, babe, but lately … I’ve felt stifled and I don’t want to end up like my bloody family. I don’t want a brood of kids by the time I’m thirty-five and drowning in school uniforms and a caravan. I’m still young, I can’t do it.’
Bile rose to her throat. ‘I thought you wanted family. You love yours.’
‘I do like them. I just don’t want a bloody great big one myself yet. If ever. I want something different. Travel, adventure, spontaneity, you know.’
Sarah almost choked. Niall didn’t want a family? ‘And you’ll get that with Vanessa, will you?’ she said, trying to come to terms with his comments. ‘She’s going to take you round the world?’
‘I don’t know but she knows the score. She doesn’t expect anything and right now, I don’t want to be with anyone who does.’
‘Just someone who’ll tie to you to the bedposts and dress you like a fairy! How very exciting and spontaneous and edgy, Niall.’ All Sarah’s resolve to be cool and sophisticated and to show him she didn’t care had gone up in smoke.
‘Babe. Don’t do this. It doesn’t suit you. You’re a nice person. Lovely and kind and – one day you’ll find the right man to settle down and be a great husband and give you a brood of kids.’
Her lips felt as if they were glued together. She was afraid that if she spoke she might throw up. She’d been about to play her trump card, telling him about the baby, but what was the point now? Hearing she was having his baby would probably drive him out of the house for good.
Niall went on. ‘I’ve arranged for an estate agent to come round. Vanessa’s brother-in-law manages the branch and he can do us a favour and fit a valuation in at short notice. If all goes well, he can get the cottage into the paper this week and online even sooner. This is tough on both of us but it’s the only way. I always say, a clean break heals faster.’
‘A clean break? Niall, I have no idea how you ever passed your paramedic exams.’
Sarah jumped up and knocked over something cool and smooth, which tumbled onto the rug with a soft bump. It was Niall’s favourite Toby jug. It rolled onto the carpet and came to rest, its sinister face staring upwards. Sarah picked it up and its lurid mouth seemed to laugh at her. She’d always hated the thing but hadn’t wanted to hurt Niall or his mother’s feelings.
‘Can you please be careful with Toby?’ Niall sounded worried, far more worried than he had about leaving Sarah and selling the cottage. ‘In fact, I think I’d better take him back to Mum’s with me.’
Toby grinned back at Sarah but she smiled benignly at him. You had this coming, Toby, you asked for it …
‘I think you’d better take him, Ni. In fact you can have him right now.’
She raised her hand high, gripping Toby so hard her knuckles ached.
Niall held up his hands in surrender. ‘Look, I don’t think this is a good time. I’ll come back when you feel less emotional or perhaps we should meet on neutral territory in future.’
He backed towards the door to the hall. ‘Now, don’t do anything silly, Sarah. Why don’t I call you when you’ve had chance to calm down? But we do have to sell this place – that’s non-negotiable.’
Sarah took a step towards him. Toby was still smooth and cool in her hand, and she felt powerful as Niall backed through the doorway and into the hall. ‘Ni. I want you to know something. I will never let go of this cottage until hell freezes over.’
She wasn’t really sure how Toby left her hand or came to be flying through the air but seconds later, Niall was crouching down in the doorframe. Toby hit the frame with a crack and shattered into a hail of coloured shards. There was a shout of pain and a string of groans from the direction of the doorway.
‘Jesus! What have you done?’
Expecting to see blood spurting from his face, Sarah gawped at Niall but he seemed unharmed apart from a few slivers of china on his jacket. The moans of pain continued but they weren’t Niall’s.
‘Feck it, Sarah!’ he shouted. ‘I think you’ve killed someone!’
Pushing past him, Sarah ran into the hallway. Icy air hit her face. The front door was wide open and a man was leaning against the radiator, holding the side of his head. Blood trickled between his fingertips and there were shards of pottery all over the floorboards. The jug must have bounced off the frame and hit him.
Sarah ran towards him. ‘Oh, God. I’m sorry. That was meant for Niall.’
Niall appeared. ‘What the hell are you doing in my house, pal?’
The man groped his way along the wall, obviously dazed. ‘I … The front door was open and I heard shouting and screaming. I was worried someone was going to get hurt so I decided to see if I could help.’
Hearing his voice, Sarah’s heart sank. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, we were just having a few words. Are you OK? It is Liam, isn’t it? Liam Cipriani? Niall, take a look at Liam’s head.’
Sarah put her arm around his back but he gently pushed her off. ‘I’m fine, really.’
‘You’re cut and my partner’s a paramedic – I mean Niall, here, is a paramedic. Come and sit down and let him check you over.’
‘Really I’d rather just leave you to it if you’re OK? It sounded like things were kicking off big time in here.’ He directed this at Sarah alone.
‘I’m all right, no thanks to Sarah,’ Niall cut in.
Liam glared at him. ‘I’m sure it takes two to tango.’
‘We’re fine, mate, so you can be on your way.’
‘He’s not fit to drive with that head injury, is he, Niall?’
‘I don’t know, Sarah, I’m a shit paramedic, remember?’
More concerned about Liam than scoring points off Niall, Sarah moderated her tone. ‘Look, can you just check Liam over while I make him a cup of tea?’
‘Do you mind telling me who he is first and why he’s in my house?�
��
‘He’s Liam Cipriani. He is – was – coming to my tiara-making workshop.’
Niall raised an eyebrow but Sarah shot him a look that would wither roses.
Liam dabbed at his hair with a handkerchief. ‘I am still here, you know, and actually, I think it would be better if I did go.’
Sarah dashed forward. ‘No, please don’t. Stay for a few minutes until you feel better. I’m really really sorry about this whole thing. I’ll get the first aid kit.’
Niall folded his arms. ‘She’s right,’ he said grudgingly. ‘You’d better sit down, pal, and I hope you don’t need stitches ’cos there’s a fecking long wait in A&E today.’
*
‘How’s your head?’ Sarah hovered anxiously over the sofa after Niall had finally left. Her anger with Niall had been replaced with regret that Liam had ended up in the thick of their slanging match.
‘I’ll live.’ Liam gingerly touched the crusted blood in his hairline. Niall had checked him out, cleaned and disinfected the small cut and declared it was worse than it looked.
‘I really am so sorry that you walked in on that row. Niall and me, we’ve recently split up and he’d just told me I had to sell the cottage. Things are … a bit volatile between us at the moment.’
‘I gathered that.’ Liam winced and Sarah didn’t blame him. ‘I’m sorry you’re having a difficult time. Maybe I should go.’
‘No, please. Stay until you’ve finished your tea. Shall I make you a fresh one?’ Sarah was desperate to make sure Liam really was OK and at least try to prove to him that she wasn’t a raving madwoman before he left. She took the chair opposite him.
‘This one is fine, thanks.’
‘I – um – expect this means you want to cancel the tiara workshop?’
Liam’s cool blue gaze was the kind that missed nothing. Oh God, he could sue her for assault, if he wanted to. ‘Why would you think that?’ he asked.
‘Because I threw a Toby jug at you and caused Actual Bodily Harm?’
‘It wasn’t the greatest piece of customer service, I must admit, but I realised you were aiming for your partner.’
She covered her eyes and spoke through her fingers. ‘Oh God, I really am sorry.’
‘Sarah. Can you please stop apologising?’
When Sarah met his eyes, she saw that they had the slight glimmer of amusement in them. She was lucky he hadn’t called the police, let alone seemed to have a sense of humour. He also didn’t look like she’d expected him to. She’d imagined a fey, delicate man, going bald on top with a long thin nose. While he was a decade older than her, he had the physique of a much younger man, thick black hair going grey at the sides and his nose was just … normal. In fact, she could barely believe he had a daughter old enough to be getting married.
Her shoulders slumped in relief. ‘I just wanted you to know I don’t try to brain all my customers … but you do want to do the workshop?’
‘Yes. I said I did on the phone. It may sound weird but my daughter’s in the Army and she’s getting married in the summer. My wife, Kerren – Hayley’s mother – died twelve years ago and she always wanted to make something for Hayley on her wedding day. Hayley’s been serving in the medical corps in West Africa so I want to surprise her.’
‘That’s a lovely idea,’ said Sarah, grateful to move the subject on from her jug throwing. ‘And in the circumstances, the least I can do is let you do the workshop for free.’
Liam smiled properly for the first time since he’d entered the house, and his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Well, that’s a kind offer but in view of the fact that you’ve split up with your partner and he’s forcing you to sell the cottage, and that you’re self-employed, I think you need all the paying customers you can get, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but …’
‘No more “buts”. I run my own business too and I know there’s no room for sentiment,’ he said kindly but firmly, a completely different man from the hesitant speaker on Sarah’s answerphone. ‘Now, can you tell me more about the workshop? How long will it take and do I need to bring a crash helmet?’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Molly peeled the lid off the “luxury” Oriental Noodle Pot she’d microwaved in the staff kitchen before taking it outside into the small garden at the rear of the lab. Steam curled into the air along with an aroma about as exotic as a damp sock. Molly didn’t care: she’d have eaten anything hot at this moment. It was the very start of February and not really warm enough to sit outside for lunch, but wrapped in her coat, with the sun full on her, she was OK. She blew on the noodles and waited for them to cool when glimmers of white in the dark soil caught her eye.
‘Oh, look, the snowdrops are out.’
Ewan, sitting next to her, stopped unwrapping his ploughman’s baguette and followed her gaze. ‘Looks like it,’ he said.
It was rare for him to have a lunch break and even rarer for him to take it in the small garden area at the back of the lab but Molly wasn’t complaining. He returned to his sandwich, munching away while gazing out across the grass towards the other science and engineering buildings.
‘Mum and Dad always loved seeing the snowdrops come up at home. Mum would point them out every year; but I never took much notice then. I guess she was desperate for some sign of spring.’
Molly stopped. She wasn’t sure if Ewan was aware that she and Sarah had lost their parents when they were young and, unless the subject arose, she didn’t tell people and certainly didn’t elaborate on the circumstances. It generally caused embarrassment and awkward silences, not to mention an outpouring of well-meaning pity that she couldn’t take too much of.
Not that Ewan was given to outpourings of well-meaning pity. Tough love was more his style.
Ewan didn’t reply for a while but eventually said, ‘They won’t be out in Scotland for a while.’
A large grey cloud covered the sun. Molly shivered and clutched her noodle pot tighter. ‘Chilly isn’t it?’
‘Do you want my jacket over you?’ said Ewan.
Molly was amazed. ‘No, thanks for the offer but I’ll manage.’ Maybe he wasn’t wholly an insensitive prat, after all. She smiled as he broke off a small piece of his baguette and tossed it onto the grass. A robin immediately swooped down from a tree and snaffled it.
‘Or you could always go back inside,’ he added.
She avoided the urge to swear. ‘I’d rather be cold,’ she declared. ‘I’m desperate to get some sunlight and fresh air after so many months living under artificial lights and filtered air.’
‘Humph,’ grunted Ewan and returned to his baguette.
A few minutes of silence later, she’d almost given up trying to make conversation. If Ewan didn’t want to speak to her, there was nothing she could do about it. She’d concluded that he had definitely told Sarah about his wife to warn her off.
Ewan tossed some more bread the hungry robin’s way. The sky had clouded over and Molly was shivering. She decided it was more than time to go back inside.
‘What’s this about you doing that charity tandem ride with Pete Garrick?’ Ewan said as Molly was about to get up.
She almost dropped her noodles.
‘Who told you that?’ she said.
‘Pete did.’
‘What? When?’
‘This morning,’ said Ewan, abandoning the remains of his lunch. ‘He came up to me while I was getting a coffee from the machine and told me you’d agreed to it in the pub.’
‘No, I didn’t. He asked me to do it and I said I’d think about it but there’s no way I’m going to. Me on a tandem with Pete?’ She snorted. ‘You have to be kidding.’
Ewan smirked. ‘You do realise that telling a guy like Pete that you’ll think about something is as good as saying you’ll do it?’
‘No, I hadn’t realised that and I’d have thought that Parasitic Pete, the most pedantic man on the planet, would know the difference.’
‘Clearly not. He told me you were going
training with him at the weekend.’
‘I never said that.’
‘Well, Pete said that you’d said “mm, yes” when he asked you about doing the training when we were in the Eagle.’
‘I don’t remember saying “mmm, yes” to anything …’ Her toes curled. She might have muttered something like “Mm, yes” but only in relation to her fantasies about Ewan. And anyway … ‘So, would you have a problem if I did share Pete’s tandem?’ she asked, testing Ewan out.
He hesitated. ‘No, of course not but … I didn’t think it was your kind of thing. The tandem, that is.’
‘It’s not. In fact, I had no idea about the ride until he mentioned it at the pub. Only you seem concerned about it.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not concerned. It’s really none of my business what you do and who you do it with.’
Molly wouldn’t let him off the hook. ‘Because if you think I can’t do it because it’s too far or I’d never make it. Is it so obviously amusing that I might be able to ride a tandem? I do cycle to work every day, you know, and I once did a mini marathon when I was an undergraduate.’ She left out the part about it being a pub mini-marathon.
‘Of course, I think you can do it. But Pete, you know, he can get a bit enthusiastic about things. Besides, you and Pete, it doesn’t strike me as a match made in heaven.’
‘It’s not a match made anywhere.’
‘OK. OK.’
‘And anyway, what’s wrong with Pete?’ she said sulkily.
‘Nothing. He’s a nice enough bloke. If you’re into parasitic worms, that is.’
She almost snorted her noodles because no one was more into their subject than Ewan but before she could think of a witty reply, Pete emerged from the sliding doors on the opposite side of the courtyard.
‘Oh God, talk of the devil …’ Molly dug furiously into the remains of her lunch pot.
Ewan smiled and waved enthusiastically at Pete.
‘Can you please not do that,’ she whispered.
It was too late. Pete’s face lit up and he bounded across the courtyard. ‘Aha, Molly. I’ve tracked you down! I was beginning to think you’d turned into that very rare species, Mollissius elusiva …’
