Tickled Pink

by Christina Jones

  As promised, Jack Morland and Nell Bradley arrived at The Crooked Sixpence dead on time. Jack, obviously scrubbed-up, was even more delectable than she remembered, if still endearingly faintly paint-spattered. Nell, extremely tall with flowing red gold hair, was simply beautiful. And, by the way they shared glances and touched hands, they were clearly hopelessly in love.

  It was almost too much for Posy to bear.

  Still, bear it she had to. After everyone had been introduced and shaken hands and exchanged pleasantries, they set off along the track at the side of the pub towards Queen Mab’s shed in the sweet-scented spring dusk.

  Jack and Flynn, brothers in steam, were chatting together happily.

  ‘He’s gorgeous,’ Nell said quietly to Posy. ‘Exactly like John Cusack. And even if he wasn’t, that accent alone is enough to make you go weak at the knees with lust, isn’t it?’

  Posy had to agree that it was.

  ‘You’re very lucky to have met one another,’ Nell said as they ducked beneath green boughs of hawthorn and emerging willow. ‘You’re perfect together.’

  Posy drew in her breath. ‘We’re not together as a couple. We’re just good friends. He’s in love with Lola, the landlady at the pub.’

  ‘Really?’ Nell raised a slender golden eyebrow. ‘Then my sensory divining skills must be a bit awry.’

  ‘Way off beam, I’m afraid. We’re not destined to be another you and Jack, born to be together forever.’

  Nell laughed. ‘Believe me, we had some horrendous moments. Jack’s a flattie, a non-fair person, and there was hell to pay on both sides when we got together.’

  ‘No! You mean, sort of family rivalries, like Romeo and Juliet?’

  ‘Far more complicated than that. Think tribal, racial, religious. Added to which, I was engaged to a traveller whom my parents considered the most eligible thing that wasn’t Prince William, and Jack was living with a successful businesswoman who ran her own company and whom his parents adored.’

  Posy mulled this over. ‘And yet, you still got together, and it still worked out, and everyone’s happy?’

  ‘Eventually. We’ve been together for four years now and are still as besotted as the day we met. My family are fine about it, Jack’s less so, but we’re together and that’s the main thing – oh, is this it? Wow!’

  Flynn had pulled open the shed’s massive doors and flicked on the lights. Queen Mab, in all her monstrous, gleaming glory, towered above them.

  Nell and Jack were in raptures.

  There was much talk of steam coal suppliers and pounds pressure per square inch and generating enough power and suitable water hydrants and connecting leads and AC/DC.

  ‘This is going to be ace,’ Flynn grinned as Jack and Nell stood high above them in the cab, oohing and aahing over Queen Mab. ‘She’s just what they’ve been looking for. Not simply for the carnival here, but to accompany them to various steam fairs to power the gallopers as she was built to do, or to do fund-raising events when they’ll have the Limonaire organ playing in the street and again Queen Mab can provide the power. God, it’ll be awesome.’

  ‘So,’ Posy said wistfully, ‘you’re planning to run away and join the circus, so to speak, are you?’

  ‘Too right.’

  Posy whimpered. She attempted to stretch her mouth into the sort of smile that everyone else was wearing. It just wouldn’t go. How impossible it was to be pleased for him because he was so ecstatically happy and to know at the same time that this was the beginning of the end.

  Not that there’d been a beginning of the beginning really. But Flynn and Queen Mab would be leaving Steeple Fritton and her, and yes, Lola, to travel with The Bradley-Morland Memory Lane Fair. Oh, God! Her and Lola. Sisters-in-Dump – again.

  Reluctantly, after an hour of gazing and stroking and exchanging technical jargon, they closed the shed doors behind them and wandered back to the pub. Posy was delighted that The Memory Lane Fair would be such a draw at the Letting Off Steam carnival – but she wished with all her heart that they’d never delivered that package to Fox Hollow. If only Flynn had never met Jack. If only . . .

  She pulled herself up. She was being ridiculous. Even if Jack and Nell and the fair hadn’t come into their lives, Flynn would have still been in love with Lola. This was all of her own making. If she’d run away as she’d intended, she’d be living in Swindon now and probably be almost-happy with a computer techno nerd.

  ‘Sod Persephone’s owner!’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Flynn looked at her. ‘Have I missed something?’

  Embarrassed, Posy shook her head. ‘Just, er, thinking aloud. Look, you entertain Jack and Nell. I’ll help Lola out behind the bar for the rest of the night.’

  The remainder of the evening came and went. Vi Bickeridge and Rose Lusty took advantage of Glad’s absence and played a lot of Dickie Valentine, whom she loathed because of his overuse of Brylcreem, on the jukebox. Mr D and Mr B proudly displayed their gauze patches. The Pinks beat Jack and Nell at darts. Flynn grinned all the time and told everyone about The Memory Lane Fair. Lola still looked like a thundercloud and Posy wanted to cry.

  At half past eleven, Posy wandered back towards Sunny Dene. It was a still, mild night. Everywhere was velvet dark and the darkness was rich with the scent of grass and earth and mist.

  Lola had stayed behind, as had Flynn, to make final arrangements with Jack and Nell. No doubt Flynn would tell her tonight that he was leaving the village, and Lola would be even more miserable. Or maybe she’d go with him. After all, Hogarth would be back at some time and would immediately return The Crooked Sixpence to its former doom and gloom. Lola would have nothing to stay for, and she and Flynn could ride off into the sunset together . . .

  The sound of footsteps hurrying behind her prevented Posy from screaming out loud. If it was a mugger – which was unlikely given Steeple Fritton’s tendency to be light years behind in things like that – she could scream anyway with good reason.

  ‘Posy, slow down. We need to talk.’ Flynn’s voice made her toes curl in delight. Then they uncurled as she remembered.

  She stopped walking and looked over her shoulder. He was alone. ‘Where’s Lola?’

  ‘Cashing up. And Nell and Jack have gone back to their current fairground. And that just leaves you and me.’

  I wish, Posy thought. ‘Is Lola upset?’

  ‘Of course she is. That’s why I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere that isn’t Sunny Dene for a while? I really don’t want to be interrupted.’

  ‘There’s the bus shelter or the war memorial.’

  During her teenage angst years, Posy had shed many tears in both locations.

  ‘Bus shelter it is, then.’

  Fortunately the bus shelter wasn’t occupied by youthful lovers or anyone drunk enough to think there may be public transport to anywhere at this time of night. The seat was relatively intact and all-in-all it didn’t smell too bad.

  They sat down with room for another person between them.

  ‘You don’t need to say this,’ Posy said, staring out across the road, a white silent curve in the moonlight. ‘I know what’s going on. I know that you’re leaving, and that Lola will be going with you. It’s okay.’

  ‘Is it?’ Flynn’s voice was very low. ‘Fine. Then let me put you straight on a few things. I have no intention of leaving Steeple Fritton. I’ll join in on Jack and Nell’s ventures as and when they need me and Queen Mab during their travelling season, but it will only be for a few days at a time. And only for about five months of the year. The rest of the time I’ll be here.’

  Posy’s heart lifted a smidge, then subsided again. With Lola, of course. ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘I’m glad you think so, because I think it sounds damn near perfect. Next, I am not in love with Lola. Nor is Lola in love with me.’

  ‘But –’

  He laughed softly in the darkness. ‘I had no idea why those Pink women and Nell and everyone kept referring to Lola and me as a coupl
e tonight. Eventually, after interrogation, they said that you’d told them –’

  ‘No!’ Posy shook her head violently. ‘Well, okay, yes, but I saw you cuddling her–’

  ‘When? Soon after the Nigel thing? Yeah, maybe. She was upset . . .’

  ‘No, but you told me . . . you said Lola had someone else. That she’d fallen in love again and –’

  ‘She has. With Ellis.’

  ‘Ellis? But he’s half her age and Tatty’s having his baby and –’ Posy groaned. ‘Oh, my God! Poor Lola. That’s why she’s been so damn unhappy! And poor Ellis, too . . .’

  ‘It’s gruesome for them both. I guess they’d been falling in love for some time, and then when Ellis went to find Lola at that hotel she ran away to, they spent the night together and –’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Posy, do stop acting like some ancient dowager. I’m telling it like it is. So, they knew they were in love and they came home, and because of Ellis, Lola had the strength to face not only that Barbara woman, but the whole world. Damn the age difference, damn everything. Having one another was enough for them. They were ecstatic and then –’

  ‘Tatty immediately announced she was pregnant,’ Posy finished. ‘Oh, shit-bloody-shit.’

  ‘Eloquently put, as always,’ Flynn grinned. ‘And that’s the reason why I’ve been taking good care of Lola. She’s truly devastated, but because of Tatty, it’s hardly something she can share, is it? Tatty’s really happy to be having Ellis’s baby. So, I’ve been the only shoulder Lola had to cry on.’

  Posy let it all sink in. It certainly explained everything.

  ‘Does Lola know that you’re telling me?’

  He nodded. ‘She thought there’d been enough confusion and enough people unhappy. You will keep it to yourself, though, won’t you? She’d die if anyone else knew.’

  ‘Oh, God, yes, I won’t tell a soul. But how on earth could Lola prefer Ellis to you?’

  ‘It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times.’

  They sat in silence for a while. A middle-aged couple from the well-to-do houses strolled past with several elegant dogs. The couple were wearing matching Puffa coats and walking with matching strides. Posy eyed them enviously. Together so long that they dressed and moved as one person and probably weren’t even aware of the fact.

  The Puffas glanced nervously across at Flynn and Posy, in their jeans and leather jackets, hunched in the bus shelter and immediately called their expensive dogs to heel. As they disappeared across the common Posy could hear well-rounded vowels muttering ‘thugs . . . ‘vandals . . . ‘probably doped to the eyeballs . . . ‘shouldn’t be allowed . . .’

  She giggled then clapped her hands to her mouth. ‘Sorry. Bad timing.’

  ‘Perfect timing if you ask me,’ Flynn moved across the gap and sat closer to her. ‘It’s about time someone laughed around here.’

  ‘But what can we do? To help Lola and Ellis, I mean?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Flynn slid his arm round her shoulder. ‘There’s damn all we can do to alter the situation. We’ll just have to be supportive and be there for them when they need us.’

  She looked at him. ‘You know when we were at Fox Hollow and you said you could kiss me?’

  ‘I vaguely remember, yes.’

  ‘And I said it would be a mistake as we were friends.’

  ‘I remember that, too.’

  ‘Well, do you think you could forget it, please?’

  ‘Sure thing. Consider it forgotten.’ Flynn drew her gently towards him, stared into her eyes for a tantalizing moment, and then kissed her.

  Posy simply melted away. No one on earth had the right to be able to kiss like that . . . No one on earth had the right to play havoc with every single nerve-ending . . . every single sensory receptor . . . every single pulse . . .

  She clung on to him, reeling, kissing him back until the whole thing threatened to get very out of control.

  Pulling away slightly, she smiled. Her voice, when she found it, was shaky. ‘Um, right. Er, very moral things, leather jackets, aren’t they? Impossible to get too close when you’re both wearing one.’

  ‘Simple solution,’ Flynn shrugged his off and then slowly removed hers. ‘There, now we’ll have to cuddle up for warmth, won’t we?’

  ‘I suppose we will . . .’ Posy wriggled against him, letting her fingers run through the silky layers of his hair, and knew that nothing had ever felt so blissful in her entire life.

  Ages later, when the moon had shifted across the black sky, and even the homecoming Cressbeds youths were long gone, they still sat there. It hadn’t all been kissing and touching. There had been a lot of talking and laughing, too: about misunderstandings and misconceptions and allowing past mistakes to get in the way of current emotions – and a lot of stuff that was nowhere near as cerebral as that.

  And they’d also come to the conclusion that kissing a friend was a pretty good place to start a relationship. And now they had the rest of forever to be happy.

  Flynn stood up and pulled her to her feet. He placed her leather jacket round her shoulders then slid his arms round her waist. ‘You are wonderful, and I can’t believe I’ve just been making out in a bus shelter at my age.’

  ‘I don’t even know how old you are, um, twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?’

  ‘Thirty-two.’

  ‘Blimey! Ancient! And I do love the phraseology. “Making out” sounds far more seductive than any equivalent we use.’ She smiled at him. ‘Do you think we’ll be able to cope with the language barrier?’

  Flynn kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Well, if I get my way, we’ve got an awful long time to find out.’

  They drifted back towards Sunny Dene, fingers entwined.

  ‘Walking me home has its advantages, too, I suppose,’ Posy murmured as they reached the drive. ‘Seeing that you don’t have to go on anywhere else either. Oh, and tell me that I’m being pessimistic here, but you’re not going to spring anything nasty on me, are you? You’re not going to do an Ellis and now tell me that you’ve seduced half the village and that they’re all slapping paternity suits on you?’

  ‘Not a chance.’ Flynn unlocked the front door, managing to keep one arm round Posy’s waist. ‘I’ve been mad for only one woman since I arrived here.’

  Posy swore that she crossed the flagged hall by floating. Trevor and Kenneth click-clacked out of their baskets in the kitchen, peered sleepily at her and Flynn, wagged their tails and click-clacked back again. Sunny Dene, it seemed, was slumbering sweetly.

  ‘Shall we have a drink in the lounge?’ She paused at the foot of the stairs, suddenly awkward. ‘A, um, nightcap?’

  ‘Yeah, good idea.’ Flynn grinned at her as they switched on the lights in the floral flouncy multi-sofa’d room. ‘And I’m no mind-reader, but I guess I know what you’re thinking.’

  Posy felt the heat rush into her face and reached for the bottles and glasses on the tiny bar. She mixed two rather haphazard drinks. ‘Well, it’s a strange situation . . .’

  ‘Having rooms a few feet apart across a passageway is going to be a bit of a temptation, certainly. And saying “your room or mine” sounds pretty crass.’ He took one of the glasses and smiled at her over the rim. ‘So, shall we just let things take their own course?’

  ‘Good idea. Then we can just blame Nature. Or too many JD and Cokes.’

  ‘Yeah, blaming the alcohol seems to be a pretty good excuse both sides of the Atlantic – oh, hi, Norrie.’

  Norrie, in pyjamas and dressing gown, and with his strands of hair awry, beamed into the lounge. ‘Oh, it’s you two. Heard voices, thought it might be Mr D and Mr B again. They’ve been in a bit of discomfort with their tattoos. I was going to suggest a nice glass of hot milk and whisky.’

  ‘No, it’s just us,’ Posy wanted to giggle, and added, as though it was very important to explain their behaviour, ‘We were having a nightcap.’

  Norrie stifled a yawn. ‘So I see. Don’t forget to switch the lights off w
hen you come up to bed, oh, and don’t put the chain on the door. Lola isn’t home yet Night, then.’

  They chorused their goodnights, waiting for him to close the door, before moving into one another’s arms.

  The door opened again. ‘Sorry, half-asleep, meant to tell you – oh, am I interrupting something?’

  They didn’t move apart. Posy beamed. ‘Nothing at all. We’re just sorting out a few misunderstandings . . . Dad? You don’t look very pleased? I’d have thought –’

  Norrie pushed the strands of hair into place, looking perplexed. ‘To be honest, if this had happened yesterday I’d have been delighted. Never more pleased for you both. As it is . . . that’s what I came down to tell you, we’ve got another guest in. I mean, we were thrilled because it’s almost the last room booked and we haven’t been this full up for ages but under the circumstances –’

  There was a lot of clattering on the stairs, then over Norrie’s shoulder, in the hall, Posy caught a glimpse of a mass of bright red hair and a very short vivid purple silk nightshirt.

  This whirlwind of colour burst into the lounge like a meteor shower.

  ‘I thought I heard voices! I was trying to stay awake to surprise you!’

  The meteor shower hurled itself across the lounge and into Flynn’s arms, dumping Posy unceremoniously to one side.

  ‘Hi, honey,’ she breathed ecstatically. ‘Told you I’d make it one day, and surprise you, didn’t I?’

  Flynn looked in horror at Posy across the top of the scarlet aureole of hair.

  ‘Yeah, you sure did. And you’ve done just that. Hi, Vanessa . . .’

  Chapter Twenty-six

  ‘You mean she’s got an open-ended ticket? But how much longer does she intend staying?’ Behind the bar of The Crooked Sixpence, Lola looked at Posy in disbelief. ‘I mean, she’s already been here forever.’

  ‘She’s been here for three weeks, two days and seventeen hours, not that I’m counting,’ Posy said dolefully. ‘It just seems like forever.’

  ‘This can’t happen to us, not both of us, not again.’