‘Oh God no!’ Polly gave an exaggerated shudder. ‘Well, he did call a couple of times, but I explained to him, nicely, that I didn’t think we were compatible. He was fine about it though. I’m sure he’d make a lovely boyfriend to someone, just not to me.’
‘And no other dates since then?’ I asked.
‘No, not really,’ said Polly sheepishly.
‘Well, that’s not strictly true,’ added Johnny.
‘Really? Come on then,’ I said, taking a sip from the gorgeous smooth beer in front of me. ‘Spill the beans.’
‘Well, um, it’s a bit awkward.’ Polly’s cheeks turned as pink as one of her posies of peonies. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you, but…’ her voice trailed away into the summer night’s air.
‘What Polly is trying to say is that we…’ Johnny picked up Polly’s hand and for one godawful moment I thought they were going to announce their engagement. My mouth fell open involuntarily and I quickly closed it shut again.
‘Well,’ Johnny went on, ‘we’re together now, seeing each other, dating, courting, whatever you’d like to call it.’
Not quite an engagement then, but almost. I gulped inwardly and felt sure my eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
‘Really?’ The summer fruits flavoured ale suddenly seeming to have an almighty kick to it.
‘Yes. Oh Ellie, I hope you don’t mind,’ said Polly, leaning over the table and grabbing my hands. ‘I felt a bit embarrassed about it, knowing you and Johnny had a thing going on for a while, but Johnny told me not to worry and that you’d be absolutely fine with it. It’s not as though it was ever very serious, what you two had going on, was it?’
‘No.’ I shook my head vehemently.
Wasn’t it?
Not on my part at least, but I’d thought Johnny had been serious about me. He’d certainly been persistent, enthusiastic and had looked at me longingly and lovingly, in much the same way as he was looking at Polly now. Clearly he hadn’t wasted any time in pining over the demise of our relationship. I’d been the one to let Johnny go and yet I couldn't help feeling hurt by the speed at which he’d moved on. Obviously I hadn’t been that difficult to replace.
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ I said, lying through my teeth, ‘it’s just a bit of a surprise that’s all.’
‘Well, I wanted you to know because it’s pretty much common knowledge around the village now, but I wasn’t sure if you knew or not, and I wanted you to hear it from us rather than from someone else.’
‘No, I didn’t know,’ I said, my gaze drifting around the garden. How long had everyone else known? I was reminded of Max and the way he’d gently probed me about my relationship with Johnny that night in the restaurant. Clearly he’d known. Possibly I was the last person in the world, or the last person in Little Leyton, at least, to know. ‘Well,’ I said, plastering a big smile on my face, channelling my best Oscar-nominated leading actress impression. ‘That’s just brilliant news. I’m really happy for you both.’
Peering into my beer, there was no reason not to be happy for them. They were two of my favourite people in the world and thinking about it, they were probably very well suited to each other. Much better suited than I’d ever been to Johnny. It might take some getting used to the idea, that was all.
‘I’m so pleased,’ said Polly, who proceeded to clamber over the rickety bench to give me a hug. ‘I didn’t want any bad feeling between us.’
‘Don’t be daft. That would never happen.’
‘Right, well in that case, I think we should have another drink,’ said Johnny, who’d been studying his beer mat intently for the last few minutes and was now looking mightily relieved to have the awkward conversation out of the way.
‘Go on then,’ I said, finishing off the beer in front of me quickly. ‘Tell you what, I’ll have one of those strawberry and cream beers next, I think.’
Definitely, in times of emotional shock or celebratory news, whichever way you looked at it, strawberries and cream beer was definitely the way to go. I pulled my cardigan over my shoulders to ward off the sudden cold nip to the air. Change was inevitable, but at the moment the changes in Little Leyton were happening far too quickly for my liking.
Sixteen
For the first time since I’d moved back to Little Leyton I had a completely free Saturday with no dog walks on the schedule or pub shifts to work. Which, on this particular Saturday, was a complete and utter blessing, considering the humungous hangover I was nursing.
The summery beers had been delicious but surprisingly potent and although I’d only had three – or maybe it was four, it was all a bit hazy now – I really couldn’t remember the walk home, only that Johnny and Polly had bundled me through the front door and pushed me up the stairs and into my bedroom. That’s what friends are for, I guess.
So much for Polly complaining about the lack of men in Little Leyton. She’d snapped one up, after all. Probably the last remaining single eligible man in the village. And I wasn’t sure why but my heart groaned at that thought. Not that I’d wanted Johnny for myself. No, I was clear about that in my head, but knowing that he was now unavailable brought a finality to our situation that I hadn’t anticipated.
On reflection, I was entirely okay with the knowledge that two of my best friends were now acting out love’s young dream. Together. I suppose there was still a tiny part of me that was smarting at the dent to my pride, but if I put that to one side, then yes, I think I was happy for them.
Coming back home hadn’t been about rekindling old relationships or even starting a new one. It had been about getting away from the pressures of my full-on life in London and taking some time out to decide what it was I really wanted to do next. To find some balance too. And while I was already reaping the benefits of my new work regime, enjoying the freedom of the outdoor life and the conviviality of working in a bustling pub, I’d come to realize there was still something missing. For years I hadn’t wanted to be tied down in a relationship, to have the pressure of rushing home from work, conscious of someone waiting for me there or having to consider another person’s needs and feelings. I’d been too focussed on my career goals to worry about those sort of things. But it was in these last few weeks that I’d become aware of a subtle shift, deep down inside me. A stirring in my stomach that had me recognizing an emptiness I hadn’t been aware of until now. It was a revelation.
In my fuggy-headed state I rolled out of bed and wandered off to the kitchen in search of painkillers. Never again, I swore, popping a couple of pills and washing them down with a glass of water. Mind you, I always had a good time with Johnny and Polly and last night had been no exception. Witnessing them together, so caught up in each other, laughing and joking, finishing each other’s sentences – yes, already! – and clearly full of excitement and hope for their future, had brought it home to me that I might want something similar.
Perhaps now was the time for me to meet someone; invest some energy into my personal life and find that someone special to share the good things in life with.
I slumped down on to the stool in the kitchen and rested my head in my hands. Ugh. Dreadful didn’t even come close. When the painkillers kicked in, I’d feel better. Everything would seem clearer. Now, well everything just seemed a little fuzzy.
I eased myself up from the stool and pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard, found some bacon in the fridge and turned the hob on, pouring a splash of oil in the pan. Flicking the kettle on, I popped a teaspoon of coffee into a mug. Within minutes the aroma of gently sizzling bacon wafted up my nostrils, making me feel marginally better. Quickly, I buttered two slices of thick white bread, poured my coffee, put the cooked bacon on one piece of bread, a dollop of tomato ketchup on the other, and sandwiched the bread together. Sitting back down on my stool, I bit into the sandwich, not caring one jot about the trail of grease oozing down my chin and onto my vest. Grease, carbs and ketchup – it was too good and hit the spot perfectly.
Feeling somew
hat more human after tucking into my bacon sarnie, I wondered what had got into me this morning? Mooning over my single status. Just a blip, obviously caused by an excess of beer the previous night. There was no need to panic – there was still plenty of time for me to meet someone – okay it might not happen in Little Leyton, but then I hadn’t intended on hanging around here for long. It was only ever meant as a stop gap, so why I’d begun to entertain thoughts of staying here permanently I didn’t understand. It was a ridiculous idea. Besides, Mum and Dad would be home in a couple of months. That would focus my mind on moving on. Not that I didn’t love this house, I did. It was my childhood home, full of happy memories, but I was twenty-six years old now – still living in my parent’s house at this age hadn’t figured in my plans.
Still there was absolutely no need to panic at all. For the moment, there was no more convenient or picturesque place to live than at No. 2 Ivy Lane Cottages. The double-fronted stone cottage was situated right in the centre of Little Leyton in a row of similar-looking properties, overlooking the village pond, and only a five minute walk away from the pub. Approached through a wrought iron gateway, a stone paved pathway, flanked by lawns, lead up to the white wooden front door. At this time of year, Mum’s hollyhocks, foxgloves and delphiniums, were ablaze of colour, all vying for attention while rambling pink roses framed the wooden porch way.
From the outside the cottage appeared tiny, old-fashioned and quaint, but as soon as you stepped over the threshold, you were in for a lovely surprise. The cottage was flooded with light, and was airy and spacious, giving a modern contemporary feel, thanks to Mum’s eye for design. Over the years my parents had done extensive renovations to the house, knocking through the small cramped rooms to make one large open-plan living area, laying oak wooden flooring throughout, and installing a huge farmhouse style kitchen which was at the heart of the home. Despite all the modernization, the original qualities and charm of the old cottage had been enhanced and retained.
Hearing the letter box rattle, I wandered over to the front door to collect the post. Mainly bills and bumpf, but there was a postcard from Dad, the sight of his distinctive sprawling handwriting making my heart flutter. I turned over the bright card showing towering skyscrapers lit up against a night sky.
Life in Dubai is good! The sun’s always shining and Mum’s suntan is coming along a treat. Missing you, and having a pint down at the local, although missing you much more, of course! Will call soon. Love Dad xx PS Remember to water the garden x
Smiling, I placed the card on the fridge, securing it with a magnet. Knowing they were happy and enjoying their new adventure abroad made me happy. Water the garden – hmmm, I’d been a bit hit or miss on that front over the last couple of weeks so I’d put that on my list and do it today. First though I ought to do something about the state of the house. My gaze drifted round the kitchen and through into the open-plan dining and living room. It’s wasn’t exactly messy, but the place hadn’t had a proper top to bottom clean since I’d moved in. Wasn’t cleaning good for the soul? And hopefully it would help take my mind of the hangover – that was my Saturday sorted then.
Six hours later after having done a quick swoosh upstairs and down, loaded the washing machine and dishwasher, sprayed some polish around, run the hoover over the rug and flung open the windows to let some fresh air in, I was done. In fairness the swooshing part had only taken an hour and the rest of the time had been spent recovering, reclined on the sofa drinking tea and eating chocolate truffles – hair of the dog and all that – while watching back-to-back episodes of Dinner Date.
I was just considering getting up and having a shower when the doorbell rang. Looking down at my grease-stained attire, I thought about ignoring whoever it was, but when it quickly rang again I levered myself up off the sofa, chocolate wrappers falling to the floor in my wake. I staggered towards the hallway, my legs heavy and achy from so much prolonged inactivity, and pulled open the door, thinking it might be a dog client.
‘Hi Ellie.’
No such luck. Not a dog client, but wouldn’t you know it, Max Golding standing on my threshold looking as though he’d just walked in from a menswear catalogue. Gorgeous. Far too gorgeous for his own good. Trouble was, he seemed to have an unerring knack of finding me at my worst. Every single time. Why couldn’t we bump into each other when I was dressed up to the nines in a little cocktail dress and high heels? Not that I got to wear my glad-rags much these days.
In contrast, in brown thick-ribbed cords, a red check shirt and a warm engaging smile, Max looked every inch the country gentleman. Our eyes met fleetingly. In a way that did funny things to my insides. In a way that disturbed me because really I should have been so over him by now after not having seen him for so long, and finding out too about his secret girlfriend Sasha.
It was too late to close the door in his face and pretend I wasn’t at home, even though the thought crossed my mind.
‘Hi Max. I haven’t seen you in a while,’ I said, nonchalantly as though I hadn’t been obsessively counting the days.
I found a smile and my manners from somewhere, inwardly cursing that I hadn’t jumped into the shower half an hour earlier. I looked a wreck. I hadn’t even brushed my hair today or changed out of my pyjamas, the ones that had bacon fat splattered down the front. I was a bit sweaty too from all the housework I’d done. Crossing my arms in front of my chest trying to obscure the stain, I looked him up and down. What exactly was he doing here? Looking drop-dead gorgeous.
‘I just wanted to check how Amber was doing. Sasha told me what happened.’
He’d said her name. Sasha. I’d been holding onto the remote hope that the gorgeous girlfriend had been a figment of my imagination, but Max had just gone and dashed that hope.
‘Oh right. Yeah. Thanks for asking. She’s fine now. Doesn’t seem any the worse for her accident. By the way, Cathy Harvey, Amber’s owner, asked me to pass on her thanks to you both for helping out that day.’ I didn’t mention that she had plenty of other, less flattering, things to say about him too.
‘That’s good. And you?’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. You. How are you?’ The corner of his lips curled in a smile. ‘Have I called at a bad time? I could come back some other time if you’re busy.’ His gaze gave an imperceptible sweep of my body.
‘No, it’s fine.’ I didn’t want him coming back again. I didn’t want him here now, really. We’d spent two whole days together and hadn’t been stuck for conversation for a moment. Now, as he loitered on my doorstep, it couldn’t be more awkward. Maybe he’d take the hint and leave.
His gaze perused me, his dark eyebrows raised questioningly. He made a show of looking behind him and then peering over my shoulder into the hallway beyond me as if I might have someone waiting there. A wry expression settled on his face as he clapped his hands and twisted his lips in amusement.
‘Right. Well then…’
When he showed no sign of taking any hints and moving on, I asked, only out of politeness, ‘Did you want to come in?’
A wide smile spread across his lips. ‘Thank you, Ellie, if I’m not disturbing you at all.’
‘No, it’s fine. Come through.’ If nothing else I’d be curious to know what it was he wanted.
He walked past me and gravitated toward the kitchen. Parking himself on a stool, he looked totally at home in my surroundings. He took up my offer of a coffee and I was pleased to have something to busy myself with. Anything to stop myself from having to look at him. I pulled two mugs out from the cupboard and flicked on the kettle.
With Max seemingly in no hurry to tell me what exactly he was doing here, content enough to just observe me pottering about the kitchen, I felt the need to break the silence.
‘Sasha was a complete lifesaver the other day. I’m not sure what we would have done if she hadn’t been at home.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I know she was only too pleased to have been of some help.’ There was no self-consciousn
ess on Max’s part as he spoke about him and Sasha as a couple, as if it was common knowledge between us. ‘We were relieved that it wasn’t any worse. I feel kind of responsible that it happened on my property.’
‘Oh, don’t be. It was just one of those things. It could have happened anywhere.’
I passed Max his coffee and sat on the stool opposite him, carefully avoiding looking directly in his eye. It was thoughtful of him to come and ask about Amber, but now I wished he’d hurry up and finish his coffee and leave. Making polite conversation with him in the familiar and cosy surrounds of the pub was one thing, but being here in my home felt altogether more intimate, more awkward too.
‘Sasha seems lovely?’ I said.
There, I’d said it. Asked a direct question in relation to his girlfriend. The one he failed to mention to me. The one I was deeply curious about.
‘Yep,’ he said immediately without a flicker. ‘She’s a great girl.’ He had the good grace to look away, pausing for a few seconds before swiftly moving the conversation on. ‘How’s life these days at The Dog and Duck? I’ve been away on business for the last couple of weeks. I’ve not had a chance to pop in.’ If I’d wanted to find out more about his relationship with Sasha it was clear Max wasn’t going to be the one to tell me.
‘Oh, you know, same as always. Busy. Eric was saying they’ve found a buyer for the pub.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. A restaurant chain apparently. I can’t imagine it myself. The place isn’t big enough to swing a cat.’
Max shook his head, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. ‘No. I can’t see it happening either.’ His brow furrowed as he lifted his mug to his lips. ‘The last thing I heard they were still in negotiations. I suppose we just have to keep our fingers crossed that it doesn’t come to anything.’
I shrugged, a sigh escaping my lips. ‘The trouble is if these people don’t buy the pub then I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before another buyer’s found.’
Christmas at the Dog & Duck Page 13
