Follow Me Home

by Cathy Woodman

  ‘Of course I did. What do you take me for? I’m not stupid.’

  ‘Let me see the cash book.’ I move around to the back of the counter and take the book out of the drawer. I open it up and check the totals for the day. ‘I don’t see any mention of the paper boy’s wages.’ I flick back through the pages. ‘You haven’t made a note of them this time.’ I pass her the book to show her, but she refuses to look at it, keeping it firmly closed in her lap.

  ‘So, Zara, have you solved the case to your grandmother’s satisfaction?’ Kevin asks.

  ‘I think so. Case closed.’ I’m aware Gran is giving me one of her looks. ‘It seems that we should put this down to a simple mistake. Thank you, Kevin.’

  ‘Any time,’ he says, slipping his electronic notebook into his pocket. ‘Don’t worry – these things can happen to anyone.’

  ‘Say hi to Claire for me.’ I show him out and bolt the door behind him. ‘Come on, Gran. Let’s go upstairs.’

  ‘I need to find that money first,’ she says in all seriousness.

  ‘We know where it went, don’t we?’ I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. ‘You used it to pay the paperboy.’

  ‘Did I? Did I really?’ She sucks on her teeth. ‘Well, if you say so . . .’

  I hold out my arm.

  ‘I feel terrible for wasting police time.’ She clutches my sleeve and I escort her to the flat. ‘I’ve never done such a silly thing before. I have to be the maddest frog in the bag.’

  ‘I don’t think anything of the sort.’ I try to check myself but the words, effectively a denial that there’s anything wrong, come out anyway. It’s easier than facing reality.

  In the kitchen, Gran and I sit at the table, the scent of brandy rising from her tea. Norris is eating his dinner while Frosty looks on drooling, having finished hers in two seconds flat. She lies on her belly and gradually wriggles closer to the dish until the cat can’t take any more. He explodes into a yowling bundle of spiky fur and launches himself onto the top of Frosty’s head, at which she turns tail and runs for it, flinging him off on her way through the kitchen doorway. Norris lands on his feet with a thud and strolls nonchalantly back to his food as if nothing’s happened, while Frosty lies down on the landing.

  ‘I don’t under stand why she doesn’t give up – she knows what he’s like. It’s like she forgets . . .’

  ‘What was that, dear?’ Gran says.

  ‘I said it’s like Frosty forgets how fierce Norris is. She really doesn’t speak “cat”.’

  ‘Neither do you. You’re more of a dog person.’ Gran pauses. ‘You know, I’m sure I heard voices today. Someone did come into the shop.’

  ‘I hope they did,’ I say. ‘You need your customers.’

  ‘They didn’t buy anything. They walked about – I heard their footsteps while I was upstairs fetching my glasses – and then they left without buying anything.’

  ‘So they were having a look around. People do.’

  ‘They moved the jigsaw puzzles from the top shelf to the middle. Now, why would they do that, unless I disturbed them before they had a chance to take them away?’

  I’m convinced she’s imagining this scenario. I wonder if she nodded off at the counter – she has done it before – and then woke up, confused. Either way, I’m not sure I can leave her here alone tonight, which means either taking her on a date with Lewis or cancelling completely. The latter seems the safer option and I’ve already warned him I’ll probably be working.

  ‘I’ll cook some bacon and eggs.’

  ‘Aren’t you going out tonight?’

  ‘Not tonight.’

  ‘That’s nice. We can have a quiet night in,’ she says with a small smile.

  ‘I could do your nails if you like.’

  ‘That would be fun. You know, I feel safe when you’re here.’

  I take Frosty out to the garden and return Kelly’s text telling me that Tori’s baby arrived safely by C-section before I call Lewis.

  ‘Hi, darling,’ he says. ‘Are you free later?’

  ‘I’m sorry . . .’

  ‘You’re catching a baby.’ I hear the disappointment in his voice. ‘Never mind. Tomorrow?’

  ‘Tomorrow should be fine.’ It crosses my mind that I should really explain that I’m staying at home with my grandmother, but it seems too complicated and I’m not sure he’ll understand why I feel I should be with her tonight and not with him, and Gran’s calling me because she can’t find the frying pan. ‘I have to go. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.’

  ‘Don’t drop it,’ he says.

  ‘Don’t drop what?’

  ‘The baby,’ he chuckles. ‘I’ll miss you.’

  ‘Me too. I’ll see you soon.’

  ‘Tomorrow night?’

  ‘Yes, tomorrow.’ I gaze up at the stars in the night sky. I should be free to see Lewis, but what am I going to do about Gran? Am I going to have to start looking for a granny-sitter so I can go out?

  We have a fun evening together – when I say, ‘fun’, it’s pretty low-key. I paint her nails, cook her dinner and pour her a small sherry, and we watch a medical drama together before I send her to bed, taking the opportunity to cuddle up with Frosty and call my sister.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ she says lightly. ‘I haven’t heard from you for a while.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I tell Emily. ‘I’ve been rushed off my feet.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ she says, chuckling. ‘You’ve been leading our shepherd astray.’

  ‘How are you and the girls, and Murray?’

  ‘We’re all well, thank you. How is Gran? I spoke to her the other day and she sounded as if she’d been on the sherry.’

  ‘She’s okay,’ I say.

  ‘Come on.’

  ‘All right, she’s been getting in more of a muddle recently, but it’s fine.’ I explain about the visit from the police. ‘It was a misunderstanding – a funny one at that.’

  ‘Where are you, Zara?’ Emily asks. ‘I saw Lewis and he said you were working tonight. You haven’t left Gran on her own? You really shouldn’t have, not tonight.’

  ‘Don’t worry, she’s tucked up in bed.’ I breathe a sigh of relief because I don’t have to lie exactly to my twin. ‘I won’t be back late,’

  ‘Well, if you ever want me to spend an evening with her, you know where I am – at least, that is as long as your memory’s intact. It’s been a while.’

  ‘I know. I’ll be over soon, I promise.’

  Unfortunately, Gran wakes at three in the morning again. I hear her wandering around the landing, asking where her room is. I get up to escort her back to her bedroom, but I don’t get back to sleep for worrying. She’s still asleep when James arrives to deliver the papers. I wake her, but she’s confused, mistaking me for my mother, and when she does manage to get out of bed, she’s unsteady on her feet. I can’t leave her and I’m supposed to be going to work.

  I call Kelly from the kitchen where I’m multitasking, preparing breakfast and feeding Frosty and Norris at the same time.

  ‘Hi, I wouldn’t normally ask, but is there any chance you could cover for me this morning?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so . . .’ She sighs.

  How many times have I covered for her when she’s had something on, like the children’s doctor’s appointments, Nativity plays and sports days? And now, when I need this one tiny favour, she’s going to make a fuss about it.

  ‘Just for a couple of hours,’ I go on. ‘If you could just run the antenatal class . . .’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘It’s my gran – she isn’t well this morning.’

  Kelly says more gently, ‘You seem to have been under a lot of strain recently. I’ll cover for you today, but don’t make a habit of it. It’s my fault the managers have their eyes on us – I took advantage once too often.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me that . . .’ I’m more worried now.

  ‘It’s okay. I’ll make sure they don’t hear of it.�
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  ‘Perhaps I should go off sick for the day.’

  ‘No, you’ve covered plenty of times for me in the past. I’ll do it. I’m just saying, don’t make a habit of it. The last thing either of us needs is to lose our jobs.’

  ‘I’ll see you later, I promise. Thanks.’ I cut the call and gaze at the array of bowls on the kitchen worktop. Why is life so complicated? I’ve managed to pour cornflakes into Frosty’s bowl and put Frosty’s biscuits into mine.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  One Man and His Dogs

  ‘Hi,’ Lewis says, dropping by to the shop one morning a week after I had to ask Kelly to cover for me. ‘Where’s Rosemary today?’

  I lean across the counter, knocking over a box of football cards with my elbow, aiming to kiss him on the cheek, but finding his lips instead and his arms around my back, lifting me off my feet.

  ‘Hey, put her down. Get a room, will you?’

  Lewis lowers me gently.

  ‘Paul?’ I say, looking past Lewis’s shoulder.

  ‘Good morning,’ he says. ‘I’ve come in to see if Katie’s magazine’s been delivered – I ordered it last week.’

  ‘Can I finish serving Lewis first?’

  ‘Yes, go ahead.’ Paul hovers at the counter while Lewis buys mints from a jar and a bottle of water.

  ‘Oh, and I’ll have some chocolate too,’ he says.

  ‘Some of us have work to go to,’ Paul fidgets.

  ‘Be patient,’ I smile as much to be friendly as to acknowledge my ease at being in the presence of both my current man and ex-husband. Life is good. I’m secure again. I give Lewis a flirty glance.

  ‘I could have ordered it off the Internet,’ Paul says, reminding me of his presence, ‘but I wanted to keep our local shops open by buying it from you.’

  ‘That’s very considerate of you.’ I try to catch one of the mints that bounces out of the scales as I pour them out of the jar. ‘We are struggling at the moment.’

  ‘Why aren’t you at work today, Zara?’ Paul asks. ‘Have you given up on midwifery? Only you always seem to be here, behind the counter.’

  ‘I’m helping out,’ I say, not wanting to reveal to Lewis the extent of my role as my grandmother’s shop assistant, at which Gran appears at the door, struggling to get through it with two bags of shopping. Lewis is there first, with Paul close behind him.

  ‘Thank you, my dears,’ Gran says, as they each take a bag and bring it to the counter. One bag falls over, sending several oranges tumbling onto the floor.

  ‘How are you going to make a pie with those? Where are the apples? And the bread?’ I check inside the second bag, finding five, no six, bars of lavender soap from the pharmacy. ‘Gran!’ I try to make a joke of it. ‘You just can’t get the staff nowadays. I should have given you a list of what we needed, or done it myself.’ However, she seems oblivious to what I’m saying, looking at Lewis and Paul who are gathering up the oranges.

  ‘It’s Paul and the shepherd.’ She beams at me. ‘All these lovely men coming to call on you.’

  I smile to myself. It’s like living in a sweet shop – I am living in a sweet shop.

  ‘Uncle Nobby saw you canoodling on the Green with Jack Miller the other day,’ Gran continues.

  ‘Where did he get that from?’ I say, aware of the way Lewis freezes, his fingers tightening around one of the oranges. ‘He must have been mistaken.’

  ‘You told me you’d seen Jack.’

  My heart shrinks at the sound of her big mouth. Why can she remember that, yet forget what I asked her to buy less than an hour ago?

  ‘I’m sure it was Jack,’ she goes on, frowning.

  ‘I ran into him when I was walking Frosty,’ I say, aware that Lewis is staring at me.

  ‘Uncle Nobby was fishing when he noticed you. He said he waved, but you were all caught up chatting. I remember it was last Wednesday because that’s the day we had omelette for tea and watched Corrie and that hospital drama together. You said it was a proper girls’ night in.’

  ‘Shall I take this stuff upstairs?’ I say, trying to divert her.

  ‘Jack caught that swan, by the way,’ Gran continues, oblivious.

  ‘Paul wants to know if his magazine has come in. Perhaps you can have a look.’ I’m about to take the bags, but Lewis gets hold of them first.

  ‘Allow me,’ he says, his tone ominously flat, and he follows me upstairs where he puts the bags on the kitchen table with a thud.

  ‘Would you like a coffee?’ I check through the shopping. ‘Gran’s forgotten to buy any teabags.’

  ‘Coffee’s fine.’

  ‘Sit down then. I’ll make it.’

  Lewis remains silent while I boil the kettle and make two coffees.

  ‘I’ll take one down to Gran later,’ I say, leaning against the worktop.

  He looks up. ‘Why didn’t you mention you’d seen Jack?’

  ‘Because it isn’t important.’ I sip at my coffee, flinching a little at its bitter taste. ‘It’s no big deal.’

  ‘Why would Rosemary say you were – how did she put it – canoodling then?’

  ‘We were talking, that’s all. I don’t know where Uncle Nobby got that from. I did see him but he was on the far side of the bank, sleeping off his lager or cider or whatever he’d been drinking. Either he or Gran has got the wrong end of the stick,’ I add, assuming that this is the end of it. ‘Are you free for lunch?’

  Lewis shakes his head. ‘I should be getting back to the farm.’ I notice how he bites his lip, as if deep in thought. ‘Are you sure you’re telling me the truth?’

  ‘How can you say that?’

  ‘Because you’re very secretive sometimes.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have to explain where I am and what I’m doing every hour of every day.’ My neck grows hot with annoyance at him, and shame at myself for putting myself into an awkward situation, but he should trust me, shouldn’t he? The trouble is, though, I have been economical with the truth about the evening I spent with my grandmother when I said I was at work.

  ‘I thought you’d always be totally honest with me. I’d never lie to you.’

  ‘I know that,’ I say, suddenly afraid that Lewis is slipping away from me.

  ‘I knew you weren’t out catching a baby the other night. Your car was in its parking spot.’

  ‘So you’re stalking me now?’

  ‘I happened to be passing,’ he says. ‘I’m confused. Why pretend you were out when you were at home with your gran? Unless she’s covering for you and you were out with Jack or some other bloke?’

  ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Is it?’ I read the hurt and anger in his eyes and my chest grows tight with pain and regret.

  ‘Gran wasn’t feeling very well.’

  ‘You could have said so.’

  ‘I didn’t want you to feel bad. I thought it was a lame excuse for turning you down that night. When you assumed I was working, I thought it was easier to leave it that way.’

  ‘You’re treating me like an idiot.’ Lewis runs his hands through his hair. ‘I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, but you’re behaving as if you don’t care for me at all.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I walk over and rub his shoulder, but he shrugs me off.

  ‘What for?’ he asks. ‘For lying, or being found out?’

  ‘Look, I admit I should have told you where I was the other night, but this thing about Jack . . . well, it’s nothing. I don’t expect you to list every female you come across each day.’ Lewis looks at me blankly. ‘Why can’t you take my word for it that nothing happened?’

  ‘Does Tessa know about this?’ he says, his tone hardening.

  ‘No, she doesn’t,’ I say quickly, ‘and it has to stay that way.’

  ‘So something did happen!’ He stands up. ‘I knew it!’

  ‘I was consoling him.’ I grab onto his arm. ‘Please let me explain as far as I can.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ Lewis says with sarcasm. ‘Very orig
inal. Jack was upset so I gave him a hug and snogged his face off.’

  ‘I hugged him, but it was for a good reason.’

  ‘Yeah, this one – you’re cheating on me.’ To my alarm, his lip begins to tremble.

  ‘Of course I’m not. I can’t tell you why. It’s confidential.’

  ‘And I suppose the reason your ex-husband is always hanging around in the shop is confidential too?’ He hugs his chest.

  ‘Look, I shouldn’t say any more, but since you clearly won’t believe me unless I do – it’s to do with work. As you know, Tessa is pregnant.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Please don’t ask me any more.’

  ‘Come on, you can tell me.’

  ‘I can’t, and if you’re unable to respect that then . . .’

  ‘Then what? Go on,’ he says. ‘I knew you were going to dump me. I knew I wasn’t good enough for you.’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, I’m really fond of you, but . . .’ I pinch myself to stop the tears that threaten to overflow. ‘It’s you I want to be with, not Jack, not Paul, not anyone else, but I can’t be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t trust me.’

  ‘And I can’t be with someone who gives me reason to be suspicious.’

  I take a step back, put my hands behind my back and take a grip on the edge of the worktop.

  ‘What are we going to do? I can’t be dealing with all this drama – I have enough of it at work.’ I bite my lip as he gazes at me. I don’t flinch. I have nothing to hide and nothing to feel guilty about. ‘If our relationship is like this now, what will it be like in six months, a year? I’m sorry for not being completely straight with you. I regret that. I should have known it would come back to bite me on the bum.’ I shrug. ‘As far as I can see, we have a choice. If you decide you can’t bring yourself to forgive me . . .’

  ‘Oh dear . . .’ His expression softens. ‘I’m being a bit of a prat, aren’t I?’

  ‘I’ve been stupid too.’ I should have guessed Lewis would be slightly paranoid about me seeing other men. His reaction is only natural.

  He steps towards me and sweeps me into his arms.

  ‘I can see you’re telling the truth. I don’t want to lose you over some silly misunderstanding.’