by Clare Lydon
“Look, don’t worry about that tea — second thoughts, I should really get home and change out of this gear. Plus, I’m meeting Sharon for lunch, so I should get moving.” He offered a hand to Scarlet. “It was lovely to meet you, and I hope you can get back into your flat soon,” he told her.
Steve’s eyes searched her face for a clue to his earlier question, but Scarlet concentrated on giving nothing away. She had nothing to give away, but she was sure her face was lit up right now, with the words I like Joy! tattooed on her forehead.
“Thanks,” Scarlet replied, shaking Steve’s hand.
“And I’ll call you in the week,” he told Joy. Then Steve almost sprinted for the door. “I can see myself out,” he shouted over his shoulder.
They both waited for the front door to slam, before they relaxed, shoulders slumping downwards. They were silent for a moment or two, weighing up what had just happened. Scarlet wasn’t exactly sure herself.
It was Joy who spoke first. “You know sometimes, when you see your ex, and you wonder what you ever saw in them?” she said, barely containing a smile now she was able to unclench her muscles.
Scarlet let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, I know that feeling.” She locked eyes with Joy, and desire swept through her body. Yep, no doubt about it, the gears had shifted in Scarlet this morning.
“And the way he just stood there chewing his food so loudly in my kitchen,” Joy added with a shake of her head.
When she heard that, Scarlet could do nothing but grin.
***
After Steve gatecrashed their breakfast moment, something changed. Something slight and nothing Joy could pinpoint, but it was there, this unnameable thing. And Joy was glad of its presence, its bulk. It couldn’t be ignored, which simultaneously scared Joy and made her want to vomit with anticipation.
Joy led the way into Grasspoint, waving at Celia, who was on her phone as they walked in. The air was thick with the smell of Sunday roast being readied for the residents, and Joy’s stomach rumbled, even though she was still full of her fry up. The residents were being entertained with bingo, which Joy should have remembered. Sunday lunchtime was always bingo time, and her grandma was a big fan.
However, when she looked up and saw Joy and Scarlet walking towards her, Clementine’s curiosity was piqued enough to abandon her game and join them. And where bingo was concerned, that was a first.
“So you’re the flood refugee,” Clementine said, giving Scarlet the once over. Her grandma’s barely concealed scrutiny of Scarlet made Joy cringe, but there wasn’t much she could do. As she’d learned many times, old people simply didn’t care what anybody else thought; they did what they liked.
“Joy didn’t say you were attractive, although I should have guessed, I suppose, what with her being evasive when I asked if you were single. Now I can see why.”
Joy closed her eyes as her cheeks flamed red. She wasn’t even going to bother looking over at Scarlet. Had her gran really just said those words, out loud? Coming so soon after Joy and Scarlet’s earlier moment in the kitchen, it was as if her gran was jumping up and down on the eggshells Joy had artfully laid out.
“Grandma! I thought we agreed that you embarrassing me should have stopped by now. Is this going to continue until I’m 50?”
Clementine flashed Joy a wide grin. “And beyond, if I’m still alive, dear. It’s Grandma’s right to do so, isn’t it, Scarlet?”
Scarlet grinned. “Apparently it is,” she said. “Lovely to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Have you now?” Clementine said. “I’d like to say the same, but I’d be lying. My granddaughter only mentioned you yesterday, but then you are a recent development.” She turned to Joy. “What are you doing here again, anyhow? You only came yesterday.”
“Just thought I’d check if everything was okay up here.”
“We’re fine — it’s the people at the bottom of the valley you need to worry about. Them, and Iris Heaton’s granddaughter, who was meant to be getting married this Saturday at the football club. Crying shame, as apparently it’s all underwater.”
“It is,” Scarlet said, her ears perking up. “Are you talking about Steph and Eamonn?”
Clementine’s eyes widened. “I am, dear. You know them?”
Scarlet nodded. “Eamonn more than Steph, but yes.”
“Well, you tell him he should think about having the reception here, at the new function room. Ask Celia, I’m sure she’d say yes. Iris said she’d tell them, but her memory isn’t what it was, if you get what I’m saying.” Clementine inclined her head towards them to emphasise her point.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Joy said, glancing at Scarlet. “You think your friend would be interested? We could have a look now and take some pictures.”
“I’m sure he would be — he’s desperate to find somewhere, and somewhere high and dry would be the ideal place.”
“High and dry we can do — that describes us to a tee,” Clementine told Scarlet, laughing. “Now Scarlet — what a name. Is it after Scarlet O’Hara, Gone With The Wind and all of that?”
Scarlet nodded. “It is — my mum was a big fan of her movies, so I got the film star name. It was either Scarlet, Grace, or Barbara. She didn’t like Vivien, so she decided against that. When I was in school, how I yearned to be called something different. But now that I’m older, I kinda like Scarlet.”
Clementine patted Scarlet’s knee. “She was a beauty, too, so your mum clearly knew what she was doing.”
Joy shot her grandma a look, but she ignored her. Gran was on a roll, and Joy knew there was nothing she could do apart from sit back and watch her play out, like an old movie she’d watched numerous times.
“My brothers are called Fred and Clark, after Clark Gable and Fred Astaire. I don’t think my dad had any say in our names — I don’t think he’d even seen any of their films before he met my mum. She always used to say she was born into the wrong era, born too late.”
Clementine nodded her head. “It was a great era for many things, especially films.” She paused. “So how’s my granddaughter treating you? I hope she’s given you the room with the view — gorgeous sunshine in that one.” She didn’t wait for an answer, turning to Joy while she took a breath. “And have you got coasters yet so your guests don’t feel like they’re crashing their glasses on your precious coffee table every time they move?” Clementine narrowed her gaze towards Joy.
Scarlet smiled as Joy floundered like a fish out of water.
“I haven’t yet, what with coping with the flood and being the mayor and everything, but it’s on my to-do list. Anything else you want to bring up now I’ve brought a friend along?” Joy asked, pursing her lips.
But Clementine knew this was a battle she’d already won, so she simply gave Joy a sweet smile. “Nothing else,” she said, patting Joy’s knee. “But give me a moment and I’ll try to dredge up something else.” She put a finger to her lips. “Of course, if I’d known you were coming, I’d have got your old baby photos out, and the ones from school. Especially the one of you with that terrible fringe your mother insisted on. But maybe we can save that for next time.”
“I’d like that very much,” Scarlet replied with a grin.
Joy sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Oh please, don’t encourage her.”
Clementine laughed gently, clearly enjoying this a little too much. “Anyway,” Clementine said, grabbing onto her armchair and levering herself up in one almost-swift move, “you want to come and have a look at the function room for your friend? I can get the key from Celia, and then we can have a cup of tea and you can tell me all about yourself, Scarlet.”
Joy watched a brief flash of alarm cross Scarlet’s face before she replaced it with a more general mask of normality. “Love to,” Scarlet said.
But knowing Scarlet as she did, Joy was pretty certain that was a lie.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You about ready to go?”
Joy nodd
ed, looking around the community hall. “Yep — it’s been a long day, but at least we’ve got a home to go to. Shall we pick up a takeaway on the way home?”
Scarlet wrinkled her face. “I was thinking we could swing by my road on the way home, see how they’re doing and if I might be able to get in tomorrow,” she said. “And then maybe we could go to the pub for dinner — my treat as a thank you for having me.” She paused, her eyes flicking up and down Joy’s face. “What do you say?”
Joy nodded, a smile warming her face. “Let me get my coat.”
Joy fell into an easy stride beside Scarlet, flipping the collars of her thick blue coat up to shield her neck from the biting January wind. Joy had spent the day in meetings as well as just listening to people’s issues, while the town leaders and emergency services had been flat out all weekend in an effort to get the town cleaned up and people back in their homes as quickly as possible. Scarlet, meanwhile, had spent the day at the houses near the football club again, helping the clean-up effort as best she could.
“You think we’re going to be able to see much in this light?” Joy asked, their footsteps echoing in the empty street. It was just gone 6pm, but the sky was already charcoal grey, the streetlights casting an insipid golden glow onto the evening.
“Dan told me the signs have gone from Slater Street, so I just wanted to see for myself.”
“Dan?” Joy tugged her coat collar up some more.
“The one I was just talking to at the hall — I told you about him earlier, he’s the one with terminal cancer?”
“Now I know why he looked so thin.”
Scarlet nodded, looking straight ahead. “He’s only 45, it’s tragic.” She stamped her hands firmly into her coat pockets. It was bitterly cold tonight and she could see her breath in front of her.
They turned the corner into Acron Street and Scarlet stopped walking. There was water shimmering in the road that crossed the bottom of the hill. Her road, that was now a mini-river. The road she’d called home for the past two years, that was no longer there. Underwater. Submerged.
She went to speak, but nothing came out. It was still a short, sharp shock, seeing it with her eyes. Sure, she’d seen the other streets, the main road, the football stadium. But seeing the street she lived on completely took the wind out of her sails. There was nothing inside her but lurching wind, threatening to topple her at any moment.
It wasn’t often she missed the loving arms of her parents, but today was one of those moments. What Scarlet would have given to run home and fall into her mum’s arms, but she knew she couldn’t; Joy was as good as it was going to get.
Joy put an arm around Scarlet’s shoulders and squeezed hard. “You okay?”
Scarlet wasn’t, but she nodded her head anyway, knowing it would make Joy feel better.
Then she took a step away, shaking herself down, as if trying to shake off what she was seeing. “It’s just that the water’s still there. Over two days later, it’s still there. And I know my flat’s buggered,” she said, tapping her index finger to the side of her head. “They told me that from the beginning, so I know it in my brain. But knowing it and seeing it are two completely different things.”
Scarlet took a few steps forward, pausing at the top of the incline.
Joy tugged on her arm again. “Are you sure you want to go down there? You won’t be able to get anywhere near your place still,” Joy said. “Plus, it’s freezing.”
Scarlet turned and smiled at her. “You’re right on the last bit,” she said, shivering. She sucked on the inside of her cheek. She was touched at Joy’s concern, but this was something she had to do, even if she couldn’t really do much at all. She had to get as close as she could, and take it in. She was sure it would help when the time came for her to face the carnage up close. “You stay there. I’m just going to run to the bottom of the hill. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Scarlet took off, jogging slowly down the street lined with terraced houses, their front doors opening directly onto the pavement. Lights flickered inside the houses at the top of the street, with TVs visible, sofas occupied, mugs of tea steaming. This road had been affected, too, but only those at the flatter, bottom end. The houses at the top were still breathing sighs of relief they’d escaped.
But soon enough, Scarlet reached the less fortunate, and then she slowed right down. There was no way she could run on these pavements; they were too cluttered with the debris from people’s lives. Sofas ruined, fridge-freezers discarded, tables smashed to bits. Piles of shoes and clothing lay sodden. Kitchen cabinets and a cooker stood outside one house, along with paintings and curtains. There was so much else Scarlet couldn’t make out in the twilight, but the pavements weren’t passable. There was just too much of people’s former lives on show.
And the smell was making Scarlet gag. Mud, dirt, and sewage were compressed into every object the flood had come into contact with. It’d been drifting around the place ever since Friday night, but being up so close almost made Scarlet hurl.
She hadn’t smelt it everywhere she’d gone; the over-riding smell in some areas was bleach, council supplied and being liberally used. However, in some places, the sewage smell was nauseating, and this was one of them — right near to her flat. What’s more, these houses could open windows and let loads of light and air in. In her basement flat, it wasn’t going to be quite so easy. But she wasn’t going to think about that now, because then she might make her own waterworks turn on again.
Positive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts.
Scarlet stopped at the barriers, around six feet away from the still waters. They’d been rushing in the previous few days, but now they were still, waiting to be told where to go, what to do next. If only the waters had been as obedient two days earlier.
Scarlet took a deep breath, then wished she hadn’t. The smell was overwhelming. Coughing, she turned and stumbled up the hill and walked straight into Joy, who’d come halfway down.
Joy put her arms around Scarlet and held her tight.
Scarlet bit the inside of her cheek again, took another deep breath and cleared her throat. “Let’s get to the pub, shall we, before I start to bawl on you again.”
Joy hugged her a little bit tighter.
***
They were in what Scarlet’s brother Clark would describe as her local, even though it wasn’t, seeing as Scarlet hardly ever left her flat. When Clark had visited after she’d moved in, they’d come here for dinner, but that was the first and last time. It took seismic life changes for Scarlet to come here, it seemed.
But looking around now, Scarlet was thinking she should come in more. It was a homely pub with a modern touch, and the tables and chairs were reassuringly heavy. This pub reminded her of the many establishments she and Liv used to frequent in their life together: it was lived in and loved.
“You want to talk about it?” Joy was leaning back in her chair, giving Scarlet her comforting, warm stare. It wasn’t helping.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I will cry again. Is that what you want?”
Joy held up both hands. “How should I look at you, exactly? Would you prefer it if I scowled?” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Scarlet laughed. “Maybe. Just stop looking so bloody… concerned. You’re killing me with kindness.”
“I will make an effort to be meaner.” She paused. “But only if you tell me what’s going on in your head.”
Scarlet regained her composure and sat up straight in her chair. “We could be here for days.”
Joy shrugged. “I’ve got time. And remember, I’m a life coach, so I don’t get weird with silences. In fact, I embrace the silence. I love silence. So I won’t change the subject, however much you hum and ha.”
Scarlet narrowed her gaze. Joy wasn’t giving up, even though Scarlet had been more than open with her since they met. “You want me to talk about it, here in this pub? I thought this was a friendly drink.”
Joy no
dded. “I do and it is. That’s what friends do; they come out to the pub and talk about how they’re feeling.” Joy paused, fixing Scarlet with her stare. “Plus, I think you’ll tell me more. We’re in public, there are less places to run and hide.”
“Run and hide? You already know way more about me than most.” Scarlet paused. “I don’t know what else to say. It’s like I told you — I’m 39 years old, 40 this year, and everything I own can be fitted into a suitcase. I’m homeless and an adult orphan.” Scarlet sighed. “I’m like a tragic case from the Victorian era. They might make a documentary about me or put me in a zoo.”
Joy stroked her chin, one elbow on the table. “You know what I think?”
Scarlet shook her head.
“I think you’re a glass half empty person and you need to switch your mindset around.” She held up one hand, telling Scarlet she hadn’t quite finished yet. “Hear me out on this one,” Joy said. “I’m not going to contest all those things you just said. Yes, you are nearly 40 and yes, you are homeless. But you have a roof over your head, and your homelessness is temporary. You have friends. You have family, you just choose not to include them in your life, from what I can tell.” She paused, holding Scarlet in place with her sharp examination of character. “You have a job and you have a new friend in me. So I would say, even though things aren’t perfect, they’re not a disaster just yet.”
Scarlet didn’t reply, but she didn’t look away from Joy either. She didn’t particularly want to hear what Joy had to say, as Joy seemed to favour logic, while Scarlet’s natural outlook was pessimism. But Joy was giving her no choice, and it would be churlish of Scarlet to just cover her ears, which is what she wanted to do. Which meant she had to listen.
“Since when did you become my therapist, too?” Scarlet asked eventually.
Joy shrugged. “It’s my job. From everything you’ve told me, maybe this flood is just the tonic you needed to kickstart your life. You’ve been in hiding far too long.” She sat forward in her chair and pointed a finger at Scarlet. “I think the world deserves to see a bit more of Scarlet Williams, don’t you?”
