Love, Lies and Lemon Cake

by Jayne Bartholomew

  James banged on the door to attract the caretaker who was obviously working late tonight. Honestly, he was usually so careful about that sort of thing. He put the coffee down on a low table and patted his pockets for his phone. Clearly he’d left it on the table in his office. The high windows in the staff room didn’t open and the skylight was too high to even think about crawling out of.

  Now what?

  The school guinea pig, Hazelnut, watched him with interest. A piece of grass slowly disappearing as he nibbled his way along the stalk.

  He smelt the smoke before he saw it come gently under the door to the hall. Quietly but definitely it snaked its way in, swiftly filling the room with an acidic smell and forcing James to cover his mouth and stay low. Why hadn’t the fire alarm gone off? He went over to an alert panel, broke the glass and pushed the emergency button. Nothing.

  James picked up the guinea pig’s cage and put it on the ground where the smoke was thinner. Hazelnut chattered at him for the disturbance and James put a finger through the wire to give his chin a tickle. “Don’t worry, little one, no one gets left behind at this school.”

  He coughed again; the air was tickling his throat and constricting his airways. He tried to pile up chairs to climb up the window but racking coughs made movement difficult.

  As he slumped down to the ground, he felt a firm grip on the back of his clothing and sensed himself being lifted up and over someone’s shoulder. Instinctively he held onto the cage. James coughed and spluttered until the cold air of outside hit him and as soon as he had been put down he started vomiting. The fireman left him, with Hazelnut, in the capable hands of the ambulance crew and as the fire crew went in to put out the burning tyre he reached for his radio to call in an incident team.

  “I’m just going to visit Julie. She came up to me the other day and said that there was a delicate matter that she needed my personal assistance with.” Edward had been rather pleased about that. Julie was great fun to be around. He watched Penny for a reaction.

  “That’s kind of you, dear. Are you going alone?”

  Edward felt his heart skip a beat. She cared! “I thought so, unless you have any objections?”

  “No, no, none at all, it was just that if the two of you are going to have some privacy…” Penny opened a cupboard door and pulled out some leaflets. “Could you hand over these leaflets on gender realignment that I picked up from the doctor’s? Julie’s finally starting to look into her options but I think she’s a bit worried what her co-workers at the abattoir will think about her sharing the men’s toilets with them when she starts on the hormones and wearing men’s clothing. I told her that if she’s planning on using their loos she’d be better off worrying about where the bleach is. Oh, and she wants to be called Nigel now.”

  The cupboard door behind Penny swung open wider, revealing a poster of an exotic beach with startlingly blue sea stretching out into the horizon.

  “Are you decorating our cupboards?”

  Penny turned to see what he meant and without thinking, slammed the door shut. She giggled nervously. “Oh that, just me being a bit silly. I watched Shirley Valentine the other day and rather liked her picture of Greece that she put in the kitchen. I thought that Thailand looked a bit more exotic. What do you think?” She opened the cupboard again for his approval.

  Edward remembered the movie. That was the one where the bored housewife went on holiday without her husband and had a torrid affair with someone who was more fun.

  “Not really my cup of tea,” he lied; he would’ve given anything to be on that beach with his wife. With Geoff thousands of miles away. “I think it’s better if people appreciated what they had rather than plan on quick thrills that they may regret every day for the rest of their lives. Anyway, Julie’s waiting for me.”

  “Nigel.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t forget to call her Nigel or she’ll think you don’t care about her hopes and dreams,” Penny spat through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, right. Well, see you later.”

  When Edward had gone Penny sat in misery staring at the poster.

  “Well, poster,” she said, “I’m not sure how to win my way out of this one. Any ideas?” The poster was depressingly silent.

  Pam walked up the stairs to the living area quietly and watched Mark helping her son with his homework at the kitchen table. The washing-up had been put away and the floor had been swept. There was an air of calm and peace. She turned around and gazed up at the ceiling blinking back tears.

  Soon he would be married to his glamorous fiancée and move out, she had to get used to that idea. But… why did he have to fit in so well with her life? She wasn’t looking for complicated, she just wanted reliable and the occasional cuddle. Well, more than a cuddle sometimes. She risked another look and noticed how broad his shoulders were and found herself staring at his firm arms. She wondered how it would feel to have them around her.

  Mark was disturbed by his mobile ringing. He handed the pen over to Sam and went into his bedroom to take the call.

  Pam entered the room and ruffled Sam’s hair. He looked up at her and smiled. She felt her heart breaking.

  Hilary opened up her laptop and leaned forward eagerly to check her messages. She had yet to win anything desperately exciting but being introduced to comping had given her something far more valuable. She had won back her time.

  Initially she had been swept away in the excitement of all the possibilities that opened out for her, but gradually she’d grown bored of the repetition involved in filling out the boxes. She found herself spending more time reading articles and blogs than entering the competitions attached to them. And they were revolutionary!

  She surfed sites that offered baby raising hints and tips, domestic blogs with ideas on quick dinners and quickly began to realise that she didn’t have to be the perfect homemaker – she could fake it.

  Timing was the key. Andy left the house at seven a.m. The cleaner came over at nine a.m. after dropping her own kids off at school and the gardener came over twice a week between one p.m. and three p.m. She went over to Babs’ Tea Rooms for cake that she froze in slices and three times a week she went over to the Feisty Ferret for plate meals that she reheated when Andy came home. The rest of her time was spent visiting Laura, meeting with friends or going for walks with Suzie.

  Naturally everyone was sworn to secrecy because she didn’t want to look like she wasn’t coping and so far, it looked like she was getting away with it. Well, almost. Camilla had managed to corner her in the supermarket last week and dropped barbed comments about the frequency of male visitors to the house. Hilary would rather Camilla thought she was having an affair than hired help so she had tried to look suitably ashamed.

  A knock at the door indicated the gardener was early.

  “Hi, you must be Hilary?” An unfamiliar face smiled at her.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Max.” He extended his right hand and Hilary shook it without thinking. “My uncle usually does your garden but he did his back in yesterday moving some paving slabs and he asked me to take his place. Hope that’s all right?”

  Hilary looked at Max’s bronzed face, piercing blue eyes and over six foot of lean muscle. Then she remembered to stop shaking his hand.

  “Yes, absolutely. Please come in. Thank you for taking his place. The lawn hasn’t grown much since your uncle was here last but I was hoping he would dig over a patch for a vegetable garden.”

  “No worries, just pass me a spade and it’s done.” Max gave her a wide grin and Hilary led the way down the corridor, through the kitchen and out into the back garden.

  “I’ve put string around where I’d like it, please.”

  “Great. What were you thinking of growing? I’ll dig it deeper if you were going for potatoes but less for cabbages.”

  “Beans and raspberries. I thought they would be fun for my granddaughter to see.”

  “Okay, good choice.” Max surveyed the plot
then gave her an easy smile. “You don’t look old enough to be a granny though.”

  Hilary felt the blush instantly and Max made it ten times worse by following his comments with a cheeky wink. She tried to cover her embarrassment by dropping her tea towel on the ground but Max swooped in to pick it up and held it out for her. There was an awkward pause, on her part, as she fought to keep her breathing even while attempting not to think about how close his skin was to hers. Max broke away first and ambled over to the shed for the spade.

  “Right then, I’ll leave you to it. Would you like a cold drink in an hour or so?”

  “That’d be great, cheers.”

  She retreated into the cooler sanctuary of the house and leaned against the inside kitchen wall, away from view. What was wrong with her? She really needed to get a grip. A fleeting image flashed through her mind of what part of Max she could grip but the baby chose that moment to start crying and she was forced back to earth with a bump. Just as well, he was ever so much younger than she was.

  The sun scorched down and after forty minutes of rocking Suzie and singing to her Hilary took pity on Max and went downstairs to get him a glass of iced water. As she came down the corridor she could clearly see him through the window.

  His top had been discarded and his torso glistened with perspiration. He was toned but in a way that suggested strength rather than time spent posing in a gym with weights. He stepped back to admire his work, almost finished, before wiping his forehead and getting back to moving the earth around.

  Hilary stood watching him, transfixed with guilty pleasure, until he had completed the digging. Then she laid out a tray with a jug of water and two glasses full of ice. As an afterthought she added a slice of Babs’ lemon cake.

  Seeing her approach, Max turned on the garden tap and washed his hands before sticking his head under and cooling himself by dousing his hair in the cool liquid. He ran his hands over his short hair and joined her, again with his wide smile.

  “Great, I’m ready for this!” Max gratefully took the glass that Hilary offered and drank it in one, as she refilled it he moved onto the cake. “Hmm, homemade cake, that’s a bit of a treat!”

  “Not made by me though, it’s from Babs’ Tea Room opposite. She makes the nicest lemon cake and I couldn’t resist.”

  “It’s delicious. I was thinking that the strips of lawn I removed could go around onto your front garden to cover up a slight bald patch I saw on the right-hand side. Wouldn’t take long and it would really improve the look of things; all you’d need to do is go outside with a watering can every hour or so for the first couple of days, just to make sure it doesn’t dry out.”

  “What a good idea, yes, that sounds lovely.”

  Max chased the last few crumbs around his plate, had another long drink of water and then went back for a few strips of turf and the shovel. Hilary watched him as he went through the side gate and it was a few minutes before she realised he’d gone out without his top on. Still she thought, there probably won’t be many people around the square at this time of day.

  The first person to notice Max was Luke who was dusting the vases on the window ledge of his antique shop. He watched the delicious specimen bring the shovel down and in his excitement accidently knocked an imitation loving cup off the shelf. Luke barely registered the loss.

  Two elderly ladies who were touring the countryside looking at church architecture were momentarily caught off-guard by Max and his tanned torso although he was oblivious to anything but his shovel and the turf. The women exchanged a glance that took them back to their younger days.

  Babs saw the ladies loitering outside her tea room and mistook their hesitancy for indecision on what kind of tea to order.

  “Can I help you with the tea list?” Babs came out with an order pad but when she followed their gaze she put it away. “Or perhaps a small glass of sherry while you sit outside and enjoy the scenery?”

  “Well, um, we are on holiday, aren’t we, Pearl? A little break wouldn’t put our schedule too far behind, would it?”

  “Oh, I can’t see any harm in a small sherry, and it is almost lunch time so we could stretch our break a bit, couldn’t we?”

  Babs put up the sun shade on one of the tables and pulled out the chairs. “Let me get you our brunch menu and those sherries. I won’t be a moment.” Before she went inside she took another look at the Adonis outside Hilary’s house and put up the sun shades on the other two tables.

  When Babs returned both tables were occupied by walkers and their frustrated dogs. The walkers made good attempts at pretending to read the menu but it was desperately obvious where their attention was really concentrated.

  Max put down the last piece of turf with a sense of satisfaction and a hint of suspicion that his physical reaction, below the waist, to laying lawn was bordering on inappropriate. Holding the spade in front of him he went back through the side gate to retrieve his personal effects. Hilary was bending over the newly dug vegetable patch with a couple of seed packets and a serious expression.

  “Hi, Max, all finished?”

  “Yes, all done. I just came round for my things.”

  “Right, then.” Hilary passed him his T-shirt and as he leaned in to take it there was a sense of connection and of heat.

  Max pulled the t-shirt towards him while keeping intense eye contact with Hilary who was drawn towards him due to a complete inability of being able to let go. Cupping her face in his hands he bent down and kissed her. She brought her hands up to his chest then fluttered there, unsure whether to touch his naked skin or not.

  Then Max circled her waist with one arm and half carried her, half dragged her into the garden shed and closed the door behind them.

  Hilary discovered that she wasn’t too old for adventure after all.

  “I’m almost ready and then we can go,” Pam called out from her bedroom.

  “So we’ve got about twenty minutes then, before she’s actually out here,” said Mark to Sam in the kitchen. “Fancy taking the football outside for a kick-about?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Great, race you out.”

  When Pam emerged, as predicted after twenty minutes, she was surprised to see them both looking slightly dishevelled and Sam had a grass stain on his T-shirt. Her son had a huge grin on his face.

  “We’ve just played football.”

  “Ah, right.”

  “I won,” said Sam.

  “Hang on,” cut in Mark, “it was a draw.”

  “Nah, you were rubbish.”

  “Best of three?”

  “Done.”

  Pam smiled and picked up her handbag. “OK, but after we’re back from the supplier, please. It’s a long drive and I want to get back before dark.”

  Mark took out his car keys. “Tell you what, let’s have some proper fish and chips while we’re down there, I haven’t had them in ages. I can’t remember if Tamara thinks they’re bad because of the batter or because they’re not cooked in extra virgin olive oil but either way, I’m a deprived man!”

  “Hmm, sounds good. I’d better pack some vinegar and ketchup then. I don’t rate the watered down excuses you sometimes get from these places.”

  The meeting with the fish supplier had been a huge success and Pam found herself a little more confident in the negotiations, a little happier to bargain down for a better price. Having Mark hovering looking unobtrusive had helped, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on how; it’s not like he’d said anything or tried to take over at all.

  They took a leisurely walk along the sea front before finding a chip shop where they got two large portions of chips, mushy peas, gravy and fish for him and a battered sausage for her. Then they went back to the sea front and sat on the sea wall, legs dangling while Pam rummaged in her bag for the seasonings.

  “Found them!”

  The wind had died down and the gentle warmth of the spring day was welcome.

  Seagulls hovered nearby in anticipation, not bra
ve enough to dive-bomb their chips; that would come later on in the summer season. Pam gave up after half her chips and started throwing them out across the beach to the birds.

  “Isn’t that littering?”

  “You’d have to find the evidence first.”

  “Good point.” Mark saw a gull side-stepping towards him and threw him a chip. The bird practically swallowed it whole and took another tentative step closer.

  “I’d love to live right on the beach.” Pam was gazing off onto the water. “Before we moved into the Feisty Ferret I’d thought of moving us all somewhere warmer, maybe opening a bar in Spain or something.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Well, I suppose I was too much of a wimp, to be honest. I told myself at the time that it would be more settled for the kids to stay in an English school, but really, I think they’re tougher than I am.”

  “They’re a credit to you.”

  Pam glowed with maternal pride. “I love them more than anything. Do you think you’ll have any?”

  “With Tamara? Can’t see it somehow, that was made very clear when we first got together. Although with the celeb craze for adopting a rainbow she’ll probably hold out until a rare purple Amazonian tribe are discovered then go for one of those.”

  Pam gasped and Mark went a sudden beetroot. “Sorry, can’t believe I said that. No, we won’t be having kids and honestly I’m OK with that. I’m rubbish with babies and until you can have a conversation with them I don’t really know what to do with children.”

  “You’re fantastic with my two.”

  “Well, there you are then, paint them purple and I’ll adopt yours.”

  They burst out laughing and Mark didn’t even notice the seagull had sidled up enough to be able to eat right from the chip wrapper until it was too late.