by Issy Brooke
On top of that, she had some health and safety duties to complete, in spite of her reassurances to Drew that it was a nominal role. She did see it as mostly box-ticking, but it was necessary. She extracted herself from a long, drawn-out conversation with Mary, an old friend from the craft group, and made her way to the area at the far end of the open air market place, where there were some service buildings and a cabin that had started out as temporary about two decades ago, all for the use of the market traders. Glenfield also had an indoor market, and the service buildings abutted the larger brick-built market hall. Here, the Christmas Planning Committee had been able to store some of the items that they were going to use for the festive fair.
Penny had a key in her pocket. She needed to check that everything had been put away after the lights switch-on the previous night. The only things she was really worried about were the ladders and the long hooked poles. The borough council had used their fancy mechanical lift for most of the lights, but the planning committee had added to the main display with a few hanging snowmen and the like, as a last-minute decision.
Halfway across the market place, she was waylaid once more, and this time by a fair less welcome prospect than Mary.
“Hi, Linda. Sorry, I can’t stop…”
Such a blatant excuse meant nothing to Linda. She was dressed for the cold weather in a bright green and lilac coat that had been amazingly fashionable in the late 1980s. Teamed with her dark blue mascara, she looked like an intimidating version of Penny’s old head teacher. Penny suppressed the flashbacks with a shudder.
Linda said, “Now then, you’re in that walking club, aren’t you?”
“Ed’s the one in charge. Do you know him?”
Linda waved a bony hand in the air. She had an oversized ring on every finger. “Oh, that Montgomery man. He’s no use to me. No, it’s you I need to talk to. You were somebody in London, weren’t you?”
“No, not really–”
“Yes, you were. So you know about how these things work,” Linda went on, ignoring Penny’s denial. “That brute of a brother of mine is set upon ruining everything! And you must help me to stop him.”
Penny stepped back and said, very firmly, “Wait. I have no idea what you are talking about.”
In any other person, Penny’s tone would have brought them up short.
But not Linda.
“The right of way across the field at the back of the industrial estate! It runs through some land owned by the utility company. He doesn’t even work for them any longer but he can’t stop meddling. I know it was him that stopped the company allowing the path to be opened up. He insists on thwarting me! He has always been against me. Always!”
It clicked. The repetition of works, the strident bullying tone, the tall stature and the sandy hair.
“Is your brother Clive Holdsworth?”
Linda stared at Penny as if she had asked if the sky was above them. “Yes, of course he is. Everyone knows that. So you must get the ramblers to come behind my campaign. I need people to write letters. I need to light a fire under the local Member of Parliament, but he’s so old and daft it would take a bomb not a fire. I won’t bomb him. Don’t worry. But I will organise a protest. You’ll need to make placards. I am sure you can cope. It won’t need your … photography skills. But do ask Jared if you get stuck on anything.”
“Is he involved?”
“He will be,” Linda declared, and it seemed to ignite a new impetus in her. She spun around and strode off without saying another word.
Penny glared after the woman. Even Kali seemed unsettled. She was standing up, her tail raised like a warning flag, and Penny noticed that she was staring with a hard-looking eye.
“Come on, you,” she said. “It’s okay. Just some power-hungry busy-body. Let’s get home and give you a good brushing.”
Kali glanced up but she was not happy. The dog could feel the undercurrents of dislike that ran between the two women.
She trotted alongside Penny as they headed for home, but she kept an ear cocked behind in the direction of the enemy.
* * * *
Penny was just spreading some butter on a slice of bread when her phone buzzed with an incoming text.
“Fancy pub lunch?” it said. It was from Drew.
There were a handful of pubs around Upper Glenfield, but the only one that did food was the posh gastro-pub on the south side. It served elaborate and trendy meals, often on slates or wooden boards rather than real plates. It was very upmarket in that way.
Penny looked at the unappealing slab of white bread. The butter was quite hard and had torn holes in the slice. She texted back, “Yes, great!”
“Meet me at The Green Man.”
That confused her. The Green Man was the town-centre local pub, right at the bottom of her street.
It took her less than ten minutes to get her outdoor gear on, leave Kali with a puzzle toy stuffed with peanut butter, and reach the pub. Unlike the gastro-pub, The Green Man was definitely “a local pub for local people”, with small windows, a dark interior, old wooden tables with wobbly legs, and a limited range of drinks. The smell was one of old men and stale beer.
Drew was sitting on a tall stool at the bar, and he grinned and waved at her as she peered in tentatively.
“Come on in and take a look at the menu!”
The girl behind the bar passed them both a sheet of paper. It was been printed on a home printer, and had already accumulated some stains, which thankfully covered some of the spelling errors. “We’ve just started doing bar snacks,” the bar maid explained. “If there’s anything you want that you can’t see, just ask us and we’ll try to do it. Our guy in the kitchen is really keen.”
Penny was pleasantly surprised when the food arrived. It was plain and basic, but very hearty and the plate was generously loaded. She had opted for sandwiches, which arrived with a colourful salad and some salted crisps, and Drew was delighted by his enormous ploughman’s platter. Even better, it was a third of the price of the gastro-pub, and didn’t arrive on a bathroom tile or some other silly novelty.
“So, what’s new?” Drew asked, and they fell into a happy conversation. Food, warmth and good company – what was better on a cold winter day? The convivial atmosphere made Penny relaxed and content.
But it soon became evident that not everyone was experience peace and goodwill to all men.
At the far end of the bar counter, someone was arguing with another man. The bar maid kept glancing their way, and eventually she went into a back room to bring her manager out. He was an imposing man who spent all his free time swinging weights around. He and his muscles went over to have a word, and the raised voices gradually lowered.
“Can you see who it is that’s arguing?” Penny whispered to Drew.
He leaned back. “I’m not sure. I’m going to the gent’s, anyway, so I’ll take a peek as I go past.”
Drew got up and left. Penny shifted in her seat, trying to see who was the cause of the rumpus, and unfortunately timed it completely wrong, because the man who had been shouting was suddenly looking her way, and their eyes met.
It was the man called Haydn, from the night before.
He was dressed in a shirt that had once been white, and crumpled jeans. Some jeans didn’t look like they needed ironing; but these did. He eyeballed Penny, and as he came over to her, she could smell the rank alcohol on his breath. His flushed face told her he’d been drinking for a while. She did not want to speak with him. She didn’t even know him. But eye contact was an invitation to conversation, unfortunately.
“What do you think, then?” he asked as he grabbed onto the brass rail around the bar, and leaned in to her. She leaned away.
“Er – sorry, what do I think about what?” Penny began to mentally urge Drew to come back. Now.
“Do I let him win? Do I let that …” He stopped himself, glanced around, and held his cursing. “Do I let him win? No!”
“Who?” she asked, curiosity wi
nning over good sense.
“He’s not my boss anymore. He doesn’t even work anymore! He’s retired. And still he thinks he can ruin my life.” He narrowed his eyes and looked at Penny, a fresh expression crawling onto his face. His anger was replaced by a wolfish calculation. He glanced over her body and she shivered. “I am sorry,” he said, slurring slightly. “I am afraid we have not been introduced.” His drunken speech was now stilted and over-polite and she recognised the signs of an inebriated man about to make an ill-judged attempt at unwelcome flirting.
“I’m Penny,” she said. Through gritted teeth, she added, “I’m here with my boyfriend Drew.” She disliked the word “boyfriend” but couldn’t think of anything clearer to get her message across to Haydn.
It went straight over his head. Message not received and certainly not understood. “I’m Haydn,” he oozed, and sidled closer to her. “Let me buy you a drink.”
She waved at her three-quarters-full glass. “Thank you, but no. My date will be back any minute now.” Come on come on come on Drew!
“I insist!” He beckoned to the bar maid. “Don’t be all stand-offish. It’s Christmas, right? Hey, you, miss. Another of what she’s having, please.”
The bar maid was young but had already seen it all before. She looked at Penny, who shook her head. The bar maid nodded.
Haydn’s mood shifted back to anger. The bar maid was just turning to call for her manager again when Drew reappeared. He smiled in a friendly way at Haydn. “Hi, mate,” he said, and looked pointedly at the stool next to Penny. Haydn was standing in front of it. “Can I grab my seat back, please?”
Haydn looked at Drew for a long, slow moment. Then he glanced sideways at Penny, and she could see the cogs turning in his sozzled brain. Drew was tall, and wide, and as well-built as you’d hope an ex-blacksmith would be.
Haydn muttered something and slid off to the side, out of the way. He called for another drink, but this time the manager stepped in and refused.
Penny held her breath, waiting for another fight, but Haydn had hit that tired and deflated stage of being drunk too early in the day, and he accepted defeat, and everyone relaxed when he finally left. The door slammed, and smiles returned to the clientele.
“There is something in the air!” Drew said as he sat back down. “That was the bloke from last night who was arguing with Clive, wasn’t it?”
“Yup. Oh, and guess what! I met Linda again today. What a terrible woman. And apparently she’s Clive’s sister. Did you know that?”
Drew mulled that information over. “Yes, now you say it, I can see the awful resemblance.”
“What’s more, they don’t get on.”
“Does anyone get on with either of them?” Drew said.
“I don’t know much about Clive,” Penny said. “But I wouldn’t imagine so.”
“I was up at the industrial estate this morning,” Drew said. “I popped up to see a mate who is repairing some outdoor gear for me. You know Jared works up there, doing the computers for one of the smaller units? Anyway, I didn’t see Jared but I did see Clive, which was weird. And Clive was having a right rant about Jared, so I think he might have been up there to see him or something.”
“What was his issue with Jared? I can’t imagine Jared offending anyone. He’d apologise if you bumped into him, even if it wasn’t his fault.”
“I don’t know,” Drew said. “Clive stamped off. He has a big posh car, a proper road hog. The sort of car you know is going to tailgate you as soon as you see it appear in the rear view mirror.”
“Poor Jared,” Penny said. She had a real soft spot for the geeky young man. “He seems quite lonely to me. He’s single, isn’t he?”
“I don’t know. But … probably.”
“He’s sweet, though,” Penny mused. She drained the remains of her drink. “He sent me a text this morning to tell me he’d found a new thing for my graphics editing software. I didn’t fully understand it but apparently it’s some kind of automated process that will make my night-time shots look amazing.”
“What, by deleting them and replacing them with good photos?” Drew joked, and was rewarded with a punch on the arm.
“Don’t you have work to do?” she said.
“I’ve got a whole day off, today!” he replied. “But I’ve got more field craft work, which has surprised me, with the weather like it is, and all. I’ve been offering gift vouchers and people have bought them as unusual presents. And of course, it’s still going well at the school.”
“Sounds great! But you promised me badger-watching, months ago.”
“I did,” Drew agreed. “It’s harder now because it gets dark so quickly and they don’t move around as much in the cold. They don’t hibernate though. I have found a sett which is currently active. We would always go out there this week but I’m not guaranteeing that we’ll see anything.”
“I’d like that,” Penny said. “I have never seen a real live badger. I’ve got some carol concert practise, and committee meeting stuff, so I’m totally booked up this week. Are you free next Tuesday night?”
“I am,” he said.
“It’s a deal.”
“It’s a date,” he corrected her, and she smiled warmly.
Life was really good.
Chapter Three
A week later, and it was finally December, and a cold, dark Sunday night. Penny crossed her legs and folded her arms, and shifted to get comfortable on the plastic chair. She was sitting in the town’s community centre, at another interminable Christmas Planning Committee meeting, and she was shaking her head in despair.
She was joined in her resigned derision by the other members of the committee. They were all on chairs around a long folding table, and everyone was staring up at the angry figure of Clive who stood in the doorway. He was trying to look intimidating.
The local police woman, Cath, was there as a liaison officer between the police and the community. She was in civilian clothing, but she was sitting very upright and glaring at Clive. The chairperson was Ginni, who ran the floristry shop and was active in most of the arts groups locally. There was also Mary, the unpopular gossip. She was sitting next to the trim, neat figure of Reg Harris who was in his usual old school blazer and county cricket team tie. Francine, who was Penny’s friend, was excited to be on the committee, and Shaun the local butcher was also present.
But most mortified of all was Linda, Clive’s sister.
Everyone else stayed seated, but Linda stood up, and suddenly Penny felt awkward because it had started to feel like a family row. They were both tall and broad people, and though their twin-ship was non-identical, they shared the same mannerisms. They shook their fists and it was like there was a mirror between them.
Clive’s main objection seemed to be the waste of money that he perceived in the activities of the Christmas Planning Committee. Now it was December, he wasn’t going on about the lights being too early any longer. He had found a new focus.
“Who pays for all this, eh? Who pays?”
“You know that it’s a consortium of local businesses who contribute, and there are also various fundraising events throughout the year,” Linda snapped. “It is all above board.”
“Oh, yeah, but there are ancillary costs. I bet you haven’t thought of that, have you? Have you? My taxes pay her wages,” he shouted, and pointed at Cath. “Therefore, my taxes are being used to fund the policing for this event! What if I don’t want to go, what about that?”
What a load of rubbish, Penny thought. She bit her tongue. This was not her fight.
But it quickly and unexpectedly became her fight, because Clive was ignoring Linda’s protests, and looking around at the rest of the committee. He was very obviously looking for someone else to pick on. Someone who might present a new, fresh target.
“Oh, yes, it’s you, isn’t it!” he said. He pointed at Penny.
Penny looked at Cath, and stayed silent.
She was feeling pretty pleased with her ama
zing display of restraint. The man needed shaking, but she bit her tongue. What could he possibly have against her, anyway? They had never even spoken together.
But then Clive said, “Yeah, you, I know that you’re that woman who littered the whole town with these dreadful posters!” He pulled a crumpled example from his pocket and waved it at the committee. “She’s fly-posted every inch of wall in Glenfield, and beyond. I wouldn’t mind so much, but it’s an appalling design. Who did it? A five-year-old kid? There are laws against this sort of thing, you know.”
That was it. Penny leaped to her feet. “I did the design, actually. And I think you know that. It was approved by the committee, and you’re not a member of the committee, so you don’t get a say, and I don’t think you even ought to be here. What do you hope to achieve by coming in here and upsetting everyone?”
“I’m merely exercising my democratic right as a citizen.”
Linda waded in. She couldn’t bear to be left out of a good argument. She was red in the face. “No, you’re bored and retired and can’t stand the fact that anyone else can make decisions except you. Go on, she’s right, you ought to not be here. You’re trespassing. Get out!”
Cath was now on her feet, and that triggered everyone else to get up, too. As soon as everyone was standing up, the atmosphere changed from tension to all-out aggression.
Cath went towards Clive and Penny could hear the police officer using her firm-but-calm-but-don’t-mess voice, asking Clive to leave the building. He replied far more loudly, apparently pleased that he had caused an upset.
Linda turned to Penny, and half-smiled. “Don’t you mind what he says about your posters. You can easily improve. Hard work goes a long way to replace talent.” She turned away before Penny could rally and reply, which was probably for the best, because the only reply that Penny could think of was going to be a slap in the face.
