by Rhoda Baxter
TIM STARED AT HIS INBOX. 212 messages. How was that even possible? He’d wrestled it down to less than 20 before going home the night before. He rubbed his eyes and briefly considered deleting the whole lot, just to see what happened. But no. That would be irresponsible. He sighed and started to work through them, trying to prioritise the onslaught so that he didn’t get buried in it.
His mobile phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the caller ID. Mel. Crap. He looked at his inbox and considered ignoring the call. She would only call back. He’d already had three missed calls from her that morning. She was nothing if not persistent, his sister.
He sank into his chair before he answered it. This was not going to be easy. Discussions with Mel never were.
“There you are,” she said, by way of greeting. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you for days. Don’t you ever answer your phone?”
“Hi Mel. I’m fine, thanks. You?”
She clicked her tongue. “I know you’re fine, Tim. I friended you on Facebook, remember?”
Had she? Oh bugger. He’d forgotten about that. He’d only friended her so that he could keep up with what his niece Niamh was doing. Of course it meant that Mel could see what he was up to too.
“Anyway,” said Mel. “I’m calling because I need a huge favour.”
There it was. Straight to the point. Although, on reflection, it saved a lot of time not beating about the bush. “I dunno Mel, I’m really busy at the moment.”
“I know you are, Tim. I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t urgent.”
Tim sighed. Fair enough. She was pretty self-sufficient. She had a husband and friends to lean on, anyway. “What do you want, Mel.”
There was a tiny pause. “You know how Alex and I are going away on a retreat in a week’s time.”
“Yes...”
“And Niamh was going to her godmother’s place while we were away.”
Tim closed his eyes and rubbed at the headache that was gathering on his forehead. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. “Mel, I can’t look after Niamh. I’m completely snowed under with work. I have deadlines coming out of my ears and there’s a new cohort of students arriving in two weeks. I-”
“Oh Tim, please? Niamh’s godmother has broken her leg and she can’t manage Niamh on top of that.”
“What is there to manage with Niamh? She’s fourteen. She only needs an adult to be around. She doesn’t need spoon feeding.”
“Exactly! You could keep an eye on her in the evenings and make sure she gets something to eat. She’s ever such a nice girl, she’ll be no bother. She’ll be spending the day at holiday club anyway, so don’t need to worry about her during the day.”
“Mel...” he said. But his heart wasn’t in it. Mel would keep trying to persuade him and he didn’t have the energy to argue with her. She always won. Besides, he liked Niamh. Scratch that, he loved Niamh. He had spent a lot of time with her when Mel split up with her first husband. For a time, he had lived in his sister’s house, acting as in-house baby sitter while Mel sorted out mortgages and lawyers and got shot of Niamh’s father Richard. Tim and Niamh had become very close as a result. Later, he’d been there to keep Mel calm while Richard took Niamh away on his access days. He and Mel argued and bickered, but if she ever needed him, he would be there. He had never been able to say no her. And they both knew it.
“Please, please, please. You’ll get to hang out with Niamh without me around. I’ve asked everyone else I can think of. You’re my last hope.”
“Oh thanks.” He leaned back in his chair. “Can’t you cancel your trip?”
“You know I can’t. It’s taken me so long to arrange this. You know how hard it would be to get Alex to take time off again.” There was a tell-tale wobble in her voice. He recognised the latent panic in it. He knew what it meant. Mel’s second marriage had been slowly deteriorating - according to Mel. Alex worked too hard and his initial adoration had faded to something more mundane. Mel was feeling ignored... and Mel hated being ignored. Tim had initially wondered if Mel was just being a drama queen, but he now knew that she was genuinely worried.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it. I’ll come and stay at yours, but I’ll have to work in the evenings. Niamh will pretty much have to entertain herself.”
Mel gave a little laugh. “She’ll be fine with that. All she ever wants to do is sit on Skype to her friends or watch Netflix.”
Tim smiled. Teenagers. Then he remembered all that had happened in Niamh’s life in the past few months. “How is she?” he asked. “Is she okay?”
Mel sighed. “Yeah. She seems to be... getting on with things. She still bursts into tears from time to time, but not so often now. Mostly, she worries about friends and hairstyles and the usual stuff now.”
“Oh good. And how about you?”
“Well, I’m not exactly upset about Richard dying,” she said, too quickly. “I’ve got enough to worry about keeping my marriage to Alex alive.”
Tim frowned. Despite her brusque manner, he could feel the worry that bubbled underneath. “How’s that going?”
Mel sighed. “In all honesty, I don’t know. A fortnight in a retreat might get Alex away from his computer long enough to sort things out... or it might just prove that we can’t be fixed. I don’t know.”
For a few seconds there was silence. The years fell away and they were six again. Tim, with scrubbed clean hands and paper face mask, was sitting on Mel’s hospital bed, playing Scrabble with the hospital’s special set that smelled of disinfectant. He’d had a brilliant six letter word all lined up, but one look at his sister sitting there with tubes coming out of her nose and wrist, and he’d ignored it in favour of a lousy three letter one. He’d let her win then and had been letting her win ever since.
There was no point fighting it. It was just a waste of precious time. “You go to your retreat,” Tim said, quietly. “I’ll keep an eye on Niamh.”
“Thanks Tim. You’re... well, thank you.”
Tim laughed. “The words you’re looking for are ‘you’re awesome’.”
She clicked her tongue. “Oh don’t you start. You hardly inspire awe.” Her voice softened, as though she was about to laugh too. “But yes, thank you.” A beat passed. “Can you come round at about four on Friday? I’ll run you through everything before I head off.” And just like that, they were back to business.
“Sure. I’ll see you Friday.”
He was smiling when he hung up. He could take a bit of time off to hang out with his niece at the weekend. It had been weeks since he’d last seen her. With a jolt, he realised it had actually been months. Time flies. He opened his email and looked at the 5 messages that had come in while he was on the phone. This mountain of work would still be there, whether he took the weekend off or not. Maybe some of it would even go away. Maybe doing something different was just what he needed.
Belonging (Book #2 in the Trewton Royd series) is coming soon.
Other Books by Rhoda Baxter
Smart Girls series:
Girl On The Run (Smart Girls #1)
Girl Having A Ball (Smart Girls #2) – nominated for Romantic Comedy of the Year 2017 RoNA awards
Girl In Trouble (Smart Girls #3)
Girl At Christmas (Smart Girls #4) novella
TREWTON ROYD SMALL town romances
Pat’s Pantry - short story (FREE on most platforms)
Belonging – book #2 - coming soon!
STANDALONE WOMEN’S Fiction:
Doctor January (Choc Lit publishing)
Please Release Me (Choc Lit publishing) - shortlisted for Love Stories award 2015
SHORT STORIES:
Kisschase - A collection of six short stories.
The Truth About the Other Guy
Dedication
To my family. Always.
Acknowledgments
The Trewton Royd stories came about because I wrote a short story called Pat’s Pantry and, for some reason, I found that the voices in
it were all from West Yorkshire. When I was a teenager, I lived in village in between Halifax and Huddersfield. It was far less rural than Trewton Royd, but probably as picturesque. For the first few weeks, I couldn’t understand a word anyone said, although they understood me perfectly. Once I ‘got me ear in’, I loved the Yorkshire accent.
I wanted to spend more time in that world, so I wrote a Christmas novella about it. The general word in publishing circles was that nobody wanted to read contemporary novels set in Yorkshire. People wanted Scotland, Ireland or Cornwall. Which meant that I knew I had to self publish this novella. Since I’ve been wanting to write a book with a Sri Lankan hero for a while (and again, was told it would be hard to sell), I threw that in too. So the story of Vinnie and his ridiculous romantic cottage for one was born. Tracey was inspired by two women entrepreneurs that I saw on a reality TV show about tech entrepreneurs. They were amazing women. They had just sold their company for a substantial amount of money and were moving on to new things. I made Tracey a lot more geeky than either of those ladies because I like geeky people. I also quite like the idea of having a streak of red in your hair (my hair doesn’t hold on to dye very well – buy me a drink and ask me what happened when I tried to dye my hair purple).
Thank yous – actually, these ones will be pretty short. To Jen Hicks for making me write something else set in Trewton, to Kate Johnson and Ruth Long who did the edits and proofread and said nice things about the book. To the amazing Milly Johnson (fellow Yorkshire person) who took the time to read it and give me a cover quote! As always, to my husband and kids for putting up with my disappearing into my head from time to time.
Lastly, thank you to you, for buying this book so that I can afford to keep writing more.
About the Author
Rhoda Baxter writes contemporary romances with heart and a touch of cynicism. She has had several novels published by the award winning publisher Choc Lit. Her books have been shortlisted for awards such as the RoNA Romantic Comedy of the Year (in 2017), Love Stories Award (in 2015) and the Joan Hessayon Award (2012).
Rhoda started off as a microbiologist and then drifted out of research and into technology transfer. When choosing a penname, she was hit by a fit of nostalgia and named herself after the bacterium she studied during her PhD. She has lived in a variety of places including Sri Lanka, Yap (it’s a real place), Halifax, Oxford and Didcot (also a real place). She tends to judge the standard of living by the quality and availability of tea and cake. She now lives with her young family in East Yorkshire, where the tea and cake provision is excellent.
You can find her wittering on about cake and science and other random things on her website (http://www.rhodabaxter.com), on Facebook, or on Twitter (@rhodabaxter). Please do say hello if you’re passing.
You can also follow her on Bookbub.
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Copyright © Rhoda Baxter 2017
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
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