The telephone rang in the hallway.
‘That’ll be my daughter phoning to wish me a happy birthday. It’s cheaper after six, you know?’ The old lady opened the front door. ‘Please excuse me. I must dash. Bye bye.’
‘But… yes, of course. Bye.’
Tess stepped out of the door. It closed promptly behind her and she watched Mrs Campbell’s shadow hobble to the telephone. She could kick herself. Why hadn’t she accepted a cup of tea? She could have learnt so much more about the handsome villager.
‘Daniel. Daniel,’ she repeated out loud, walking back across the road. She liked the name.
Back at home, she sent a text to Holly.
Guess wot? I know his name. x
Within a minute a reply beeped.
Whose name? Do I look like bloody Mystic Meg? x
Dog walking man. x
Her mobile rang in seconds, as Tess knew it would.
‘How do you know? Have you spoken to him? What’s his name?’
‘Daniel.’
Holly started singing Elton John’s song and Tess joined in, ‘I can see the red tail lights, heeeaaading for Spain.’
‘Tell me everything,’ begged Holly.
‘It’s not exciting. I took a parcel over to Mrs Campbell’s and I asked her. Can you believe she was about to tell me where he lived when her telephone rang? Oh, and I saw him this evening at Jackson’s too.’ Tess didn’t think there was any need to elaborate about her disastrous shopping trip.
‘No way! Did you speak to him?’
‘I was in a bit of a rush. Apparently, he’s an artist.’
‘Does he paint nudes? I’d sit for free.’
Tess laughed. ‘I don’t know. Don’t you think I’ve made a good start by finding out his name and what he does?’
‘I suppose, but please try and find out if he’s single then you could introduce us.’
Tess’s smile faded. Who had her daydreams been kidding? It was unlikely that he was single and she had to face facts, she hadn’t made a good first impression.
‘Tess?’
‘Sorry, I was miles away.’ She tried to sound cheerful but felt like she’d just been turned down for a part as a leading lady. Tess forced a laugh. ‘Must dash. Blake will be here soon. I’m doing it tonight.’
‘God, I’d forgotten. Do you say good luck on such occasions?’
‘I suppose so. I’ll need it. I can’t see him taking it too well.’
‘No, me neither. Will you ring me when he’s left?’
‘I will. Just think, Holly, tonight will be the last night he walks out of Rose Cottage.’
Chapter Six
Blake dried himself after stepping out of the shower and fastened his jeans with some difficulty. He breathed in audibly ignoring the roll of flesh above his waistband. He slipped a T-shirt over his head, scrutinised his face in the mirror and tugged at a long hair protruding from his nose. Hooking his forefinger into a tub of hair wax, he extracted a white blob before rubbing it between his palms and through his hair. Tonight he’d be attentive. He’d shaved, cut his toenails and bought Tess some flowers from the local garage. She wouldn’t be able to resist his romantic advances. It had been a while.
Within minutes Blake had slammed the front door behind him and locked it. Inside the car, he adjusted his rear-view mirror, straightened the bunch of chrysanthemums and reached for his cigarettes. He lit one, inhaled and threw the box back into the glove compartment.
He listened to his playlist and smoked three cigarettes on his way across town, surprised at the slither of anxiety that was creeping down his spine the closer he got to Halston. The past week had been difficult and doubts about this evening were eroding his confidence. Yes, Tess was bored with her job at the deli and yes, they’d been arguing with each other recently. But didn’t relationships ebb and flow depending on external stresses? Surely it would be a little melodramatic to throw in the towel for no real reason? In the future she’d be far better off with him. After all, he was now an associate director with his own house. He’d get his finances sorted and maybe she would finally see sense and move in with him. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to lie about his health; it would be unforgivable. But he was thinking of Tess’s well being. He was thinking of her.
Blake turned right into Halston and flicked his cigarette butt out of the window. He felt unaccustomedly nervous as he looked across the garden towards the front door of Rose Cottage. His chest wheezed and he tried to calm his heart rate down. Relax, he told himself, subconsciously rubbing the plaster in the crook of his arm where the nurse had taken blood. Why would Tess invite you round to cook your favourite meal, if she didn’t still love you? Forget about lying. It won’t be necessary. He breathed out, placed his new inhaler between his lips, pressed and took a deep breath. He waited ten seconds before exhaling, just as the nurse had shown him.
Blake let himself in. A mouth-watering aroma of seafood filled the hallway and Emily Sande was singing in the background. All appeared calm, which soothed his mood considerably. He hung his jacket on a hook at the bottom of the stairs and walked purposefully down the hall clutching the bunch of flowers. Inside the kitchen, he saw Tess carving a date and walnut loaf.
Tess had heard him come in and had quickly put down her second glass of wine and picked up the carving knife to look busy. The time had come when she had to explain that she no longer loved her boyfriend. She jumped when Blake came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, presenting her with purple blooms.
‘Hello, gorgeous. The food smells lovely. These are for you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Have you had a good day?’
‘Busy.’
‘You feel tense.’
‘I’m okay. Just a bit tired.’
‘Well relax,’ said Blake. ‘We’ve got all evening to enjoy ourselves.’
He pulled aside her hair and nuzzled his lips against her neck. The smell of stale nicotine on his breath was repulsive. Tess’s grimace was directed towards the spice rack, so went unnoticed by Blake. She turned with a swift movement out of his reach and opened the fridge door. Knowing that he would be driving back home a single man, she offered him a soft drink.
‘Can I get you a glass of elderberry juice?’
‘Are you serious?’ He laughed. ‘Have you got any Chardonnay?’ He sauntered to the hob, dipped his finger in a pan and tasted the simmering sauce.
Tess managed to stop herself from moaning about not having washed his hands. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t he do anything right in her eyes? He seemed to be in a good mood. He’d bought her flowers and was being attentive. Tess chewed her lip. It didn’t alter the fact that she’d fallen out of love though, did it?
She busied herself by warming two plates under running hot water and carrying the bread to the table. After drying the plates she dished up the food and sprinkled it with chopped parsley.
‘It’s ready.’
She turned towards the table where Blake had already taken his place. She sat down opposite him and they began to eat. Half an hour passed amicably enough. They talked about work, the state of the housing market and the heat wave. Blake told a few corny jokes and moved on to holidays.
‘Samantha from the office has just got back from Marbella. The photos look amazing. You should see the yachts, the bars and the clubs. We should go, you know? We could do with a holiday.’
‘But for the last two years you’ve said we can’t afford one.’
‘Well, we can’t at the moment. But with the extra money from my promotion and the money we’d save if you moved in with me—’
Tess interrupted him. ‘Blake, we need to talk.’
‘We are.’
‘No, I mean talk seriously. About us.’
‘Don’t you want to go away?’
‘I’d love a holiday as much as the next person, but you have an overdraft and I have to budget carefully on a shop assistant’s wage. It’s time to face facts. Not just financially, Blake, but
in other ways too.’
Blake stopped chewing. ‘What facts?’
‘About how difficult things are at the moment.’
‘Don’t worry about us,’ said Blake, wafting his hand in the air as if batting away an irritating insect. ‘We’ll be fine. Every relationship has their ups and downs, so why should we be any different?’
‘I need to say something. You know how much you mean to me, don’t you? We’ve shared a lot together, but—’
‘I love you too, Tezza.’
‘That’s not what I’m saying, Blake. Please listen and try and understand. It’s difficult.’
‘Have some more wine.’ Blake picked up the bottle to top up her glass, but Tess laid her hand across the rim to prevent him.
‘No, I’ve had enough—’
Blake poured some wine onto the back of her hand. ‘Shit, sorry.’
‘Leave it. It’s okay,’ she snapped.
Blake used their two linen serviettes to mop up the spilt wine. Tess got up and walked to the kitchen sink where she rinsed her hand under the tap.
‘Blake, I’ve been dreading saying this because we’ve spent many happy times together and you’ll always be a good friend, but—’
‘Did I mention that I went to see the doctor this evening?’
Tess turned from the kitchen sink to face him. ‘Oh! That’s what your appointment was?’
‘Yeh. I took your advice and finally got round to it.’
‘You went about your cough?’
He nodded.
‘I’m glad. What did they say?’
Blake pulled a face. ‘It doesn’t look good.’
‘What doesn’t?’
‘My cough.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The doctor told me…’
‘What?’
‘He said he thought it could be serious.’
Tess crossed the kitchen floor and stood in front of him. ‘What did he mean by that?’
‘Serious. You know.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Bad news.’
Tess could see that Blake was now pale and perspiring.
‘You know. The C word.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘He told me it probably was.’
‘He couldn’t have. Doctors don’t guess.’
‘He said he could hear something on my lungs and could tell by my cough. I should get the results from the blood test next week.’ He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the pink fabric plaster stuck on the inside of his arm.
Tess was incredulous. ‘Why have you waited an hour to tell me this? A doctor can’t go making rash statements like that. It’s unethical.’
‘He says it can’t be bronchitis. I don’t have a fever and I’ve had the cough for too long.’
Tess stood open-mouthed in the middle of the kitchen, bewildered. She didn’t know what to say. She held her hand against her head and stared at Blake. A couple of minutes ago, she was braced to finish with him. Now he was sitting in front of her, calmly informing her that the likelihood was that he had cancer. Blake usually panicked at the thought of losing his hair wax. He was a hypochondriac who worried about every blister, mole or hangnail. Now here he was, putting on a brave face within a couple of hours of being told he was likely to be seriously ill. My God, hadn’t he been telling her silly jokes?
‘You’ve been laughing and telling stupid jokes. Is this another sick joke?’
‘Tess!’
‘But I don’t understand. Why didn’t you say something when you came in?’
‘I was trying to stay positive. I suppose I’ve been in denial for the past few hours.’
‘This is crazy.’ Tess raked her fingers up through her hair and stood there for a few seconds with her head in her hands. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This didn’t happen during the rehearsals in her head. Her shock turned to anger.
‘It’s immoral. A doctor should be struck off for guessing like that. I think you should put in a formal complaint. When my grandmother was diagnosed, she had numerous tests and scans before being told the results. She was exhausted, had no appetite and lost a lot of weight.’ She stared at Blake. ‘You still manage to work every day, you enjoy your food and haven’t lost any weight.’
‘What are you saying?’ he asked.
‘I’m saying, don’t think the worst. Don’t believe an unprofessional doctor. Wait for the results to come back. And I’m serious about changing your doctor because yours is out of order. I’ve a good mind to go over there tomorrow and complain. Who did you see?’
Blake’s head buzzed with panic. Shit. He’d only bloody well gone and done it. His lie was exposed, laid bare like an oozing, infected wound. He’d known she was about to end their relationship. It was obvious from the word, but. You are special, but. We’ll always be friends, but. What choice had he been given? He couldn’t have let her say the words. He’d imagined her falling into his arms and professing her undying love and loyalty after he’d told her about being ill. Instead, she was standing in front of him with her arms folded, scrutinising him. He felt like she could see right through him. He couldn’t tell her his doctor’s name. He was stuck. What could he do? Cough. He could pretend to cough. It would buy more time. He spluttered into the serviettes in his hands and, luckily, his forced cough irritated his throat enabling him to cough more convincingly.
Tess stood in the middle of the kitchen at a complete loss as to what to do. Blake was coughing into the wine-soaked serviettes, but her feet wouldn’t move to help him. She watched the scene in front of her as if she was watching a television drama. The credits would roll in a minute. They would be sitting at the table, calmly discussing their separation. If what he said were true, it would complicate things. She wasn’t happy and didn’t love him any more. Not in the way she believed love should be. But how could she finish with him tonight? She couldn’t possibly be that callous. She was sure that his doctor had been unscrupulous by diagnosing without tests, but for now, she would have to put her plans on hold.
Chapter Seven
The following day was Tess’s day off from the deli. Her mobile rang while she was daydreaming, making her jump. The screen read Holly. She’d been dodging her friend’s calls all morning but she couldn’t hide forever.
‘Hello.’
‘About bloody time!’ said Holly. ‘I must have phoned you six times and left loads of messages. I can’t believe you didn’t call me after you dumped Blake last night. You said you would and I’ve been dying to know how he took it. Tess?’
‘I didn’t do it.’
‘I can’t believe you chickened out. I knew he’d give you the big doe eyes and I knew you’d fall for it. I bet he looked like that cat in Shrek, you know, just before it attacked the ogre with his claws.’
‘He’s sick.’
‘You didn’t fall for that old story, did you? He’s always complaining of something. He’s probably picked up a bug. Never mind, you can do it another time.’
‘The doctor thinks he’s got cancer.’
There was a pause. ‘Sorry?’
‘They think it’s cancer.’
‘I guess we’re not talking star signs here?’
‘He went to the doctor yesterday about his cough.’
‘I don’t understand. He went yesterday?’
‘Yes.’
‘There must be a mistake, then. GPs don’t diagnose cancer. Patients get referred to onc… to people who specialise in that specific field of medicine. They’re referred to the hospital where they do tests on samples under a microscope? Has he had an X-ray? He’s a bit of a hypochondriac; perhaps he’s second guessing the doctor.’
‘That thought had crossed my mind. I hope he’s just got the wrong end of the stick.’
‘Do you think he’s capable of making it up?’
‘Why would he? He has his little faults and irritations, like we all do, but Blake wouldn’t lie about his health. He wouldn’t do such an evil thing.
I’m going to try and find out more.’
‘I hope it’s a mistake and I’m really sorry if I’m sounding unsympathetic. It’s just weird to be diagnosed without a biopsy or X-ray, that’s all.’
Tess sighed. ‘I know. I feel so guilty for not a hundred per cent believing him. It’s all such a mess.’
‘He doesn’t know you were thinking of breaking up, does he?’
‘No.’
‘Just bide your time then. You say he has more tests so be there for him until you know for sure. I’ll feel awful if he’s really sick, but for now, you don’t have to feel like you’re backed into a corner. There are always options. Just think of breaking up with him as being postponed, not cancelled.’
Tess mulled over her friend’s sensible advice. If he was sick and the blood results backed up the doctor’s initial thoughts, she’d stay with him until he was given the all-clear. Huge advances had been made with cancer cures. Many people recovered nowadays. Just because the passion had gone and he could be irritating, it didn’t mean that they weren’t still friends.
‘You’re right. I’m not trapped in this relationship for life. As you say, I’ll wait and see if he’s mistaken before I think again about ending things.’
‘Can I do anything to help?’
‘You already have, thank you. I feel better for just talking to you.’
Chapter Eight
Clouds and drizzle competed with each other for the first few weeks of July. Denise was collecting breakfast dishes from the kitchen table and looking for jobs to occupy her mind. She hummed along to a song on the radio while tidying up after her young sons, Sam and Peter. If she didn’t hum, she would cry. Every so often, her voice would falter when her thoughts returned to the torment that was on her mind. Minutes earlier, she’d waved goodbye to her sons as they’d run outside to a neighbour’s car, their shirts already escaping from their shorts. One of her friends had offered to take Sam and Peter to the church hall for one of the activity days that were running throughout the long summer holidays.
Denise cleared her throat when she heard her husband, Simon, coming downstairs. He walked into the kitchen, a V-shaped frown between his eyes while adjusting his tie. His face softened when he saw her and drew her into his arms. He held her tightly, kissing the top of her head and letting his lips linger there.
You've Got My Number: Warm your heart this winter with this uplifting and deliciously romantic story! Page 4
