by Mark White
‘Did Frank happen to mention what these two archaeologists were like?’ Emily asked.
‘Not really. Just that they appear to want to keep themselves to themselves. Very private, apparently; not keen to attract attention. Frank said that everything’s got to go through Ted Wilson; under no circumstances did they want to be disturbed by any unsolicited calls up at the Hall. You know what these academic types are like; never happier than when they’ve got their head in a book.’
‘You don’t think they’ve got anything to do with my field, do you?’ asked Blackett. ‘I’ll burn that bloody Hall down if they have – them in it n’all!’
‘I doubt it, Wilf,’ replied Tina. ‘Besides, stop being so paranoid. They’ve only just got here and you’re talking about burning their house down. Hardly the way we like to welcome guests, is it?’
‘Guests my arse! What with dickheads like Bainbridge and that other jumped-up lot down Rowan Lane, the last thing I want is more unwanted guests coming here. I’ve had my fill of them.’
‘I’m sure they’re perfectly decent people,’ Emily said. ‘Don’t worry, Wilf, we’ll all keep our eyes and ears open for you.’
‘Thanks, Emily. I appreciate it.’
‘All the same,’ said Tina. ‘As I said earlier, there’s something funny going on around here; at least that’s how it seems to me. Whatever it is, I hope it hasn’t got anything to do with that cross on Wilf’s field.’ She looked across at Emily. ‘I never thought I’d say this to you, but I sincerely hope you’re barking up the wrong tree with your black magic theory. We could do without that part of our history coming back to haunt us.’
Emily smiled at her. ‘Oh I’m sure it has nothing to do with it,’ she said, her voice failing to convince herself, let alone anyone else in the room. ‘Let’s hope so, anyway. For all our sakes.’
Chapter 14
8.00pm: Cara stood outside the door of number eight, Rowan Lane; her finger hovering over the doorbell as she plucked up the courage to announce her arrival. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that dinner with a man she’d only just met did not officially constitute a date; she knew full well that the chemistry between them pushed them way beyond the platonic category of ‘just good friends.’ Besides, ‘just good friends’ didn’t usually spend upwards of two hours getting themselves ready for a casual dinner date. She felt sick with nerves as she pressed the doorbell, a flight of butterflies frantically beating their wings against the inside of her stomach. What if I’m overdressed? What if he answers the door wearing a baggy tracksuit and sees me all tarted up like some desperate housewife? Oh, God…what am I doing here? As she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, she quickly checked for a final time that her hair was in place and took a deep breath to steady her nerves.
The door opened to reveal a smartly-dressed Ben Price, holding a red and white gingham tea-towel in one hand and gawping at her like she was some kind of alien life-form from the planet Zorg. His reaction confused her, causing her to blush with self-consciousness. ‘Err – hello?’ she asked. ‘Is everything alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
Ben smiled at her. ‘Wow,’ he said, trying his best to keep his eyes above her neckline. ‘I have to say, you look absolutely stunning. For a moment there I thought you were someone else! No offence, it’s just that you look very different out of uniform…not that there’s anything wrong with you in it, of course, but…’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ she said, interpreting his waffling as a sign that her efforts had not completely been in vain. ‘But if you don’t mind, it’s a little cold out here. Any chance we could continue the pleasantries inside?’
‘Eh? Oh, of course. Please, come in,’ he replied, gesturing for her to step inside.
‘I brought you these,’ she said, handing him a box of chocolates she’d bought that afternoon from Turner’s general store. ‘I thought you might like to share them with Chloe.’
‘Really, Cara, you shouldn’t have. That’s very kind of you.’ He took her coat and umbrella and placed them next to the hallway radiator to dry. ‘Why don’t you come into the kitchen; dinner’s almost ready. I don’t know about you, but all that running around after Chloe this afternoon has given me a heck of an appetite.’
‘Mmm…me too,’ she replied, casting her eyes nosily around the hall as she followed him. ‘I forgot to mention yesterday - this is a lovely house you have. The kitchen’s massive!’
‘It’s far too big for me, especially when I haven’t got Chloe here. A lot of these cupboards are empty; most of the time I probably only use half of it.’
‘Where is Chloe?’
‘She’s asleep. She’s still at that perfect age where she’s ready for bed by seven-thirty. She desperately wanted to stay up to see you, but what with all that fresh air and exercise, she was barely able to keep her eyes open. She was fast asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.’ He looked at her and smiled. ‘I’m afraid it’s just the two of us. I hope you don’t mind?’
‘Not at all,’ she said, secretly glad, but trying not to appear particularly bothered either way. ‘What are you cooking? It smells delicious.’
‘Good old spaghetti Bolognese. With some garlic bread and a baby leaf salad on the side. It won’t win any awards, but it is one of my more reliable concoctions.’ He reached into a cupboard and took out a couple of wine glasses. ‘Red or white?’
‘I’m sorry, but I’ll have to be terribly boring and stick with water. I’m afraid I’m not allowed anything stronger; just in case my community needs me! You go ahead though – I promise not to be too envious.’
‘No no,’ he replied, replacing the bottle of red onto its rack. ‘I’m not that bothered either way. I don’t tend to drink much when Chloe’s here in case she might need me for anything during the night. Anyway, you’d only end up trying to take advantage of me…’
Cara raised her eyebrows. ‘Yeah right. You’re not exactly my type.’
‘Ouch – you know how to knock a man’s confidence!’ He smiled, handing her a glass of water. ‘And now that we’ve established that you don’t fancy me, how about we sit down in silence and eat our dinner before going our separate ways?’
‘Sounds perfect to me,’ she said, playfully sticking her tongue out at him.
Cara sat at one end of the kitchen table and watched Ben as he put the finishing touches to dinner, appreciating the effort he had gone to. Since arriving at his house, she’d hardly spared her friend Bronwyn a thought. When she’d called by the Hostel at lunchtime to check up on her, there had been nobody at home, which was slightly odd given her fatigued condition earlier that morning. Later, when she’d returned to the Hostel after work, she had found a scribbled note that read ‘feeling better – gone to see Kate – back later - maybe in the morning xx.’ On the one hand, Cara was pleased that her friend had perked up and felt well enough to go out, but on the other hand, she was surprised that Bronwyn had not wanted to spend the evening with her. It seemed a little casual of her to simply up sticks and disappear like that. Cara only hoped that Bronwyn wouldn’t be too upset that she’d helped herself to her makeup and to one of her outfits from the wardrobe. The classic little black number she’d chosen was certainly more appealing, and revealing, than a standard issue Police Constable’s uniform.
When everything was ready, Ben carefully served the food into two bowls and joined Cara at the table. ‘Bon appetite,’ he said. ‘Or should I say ‘Buon appetito’?’
‘And to you too! Thanks Ben, it’s very kind of you to have gone to all this effort. I have to say, I’m very impressed…and a little surprised.’
‘You haven’t tasted it yet,’ he said, placing his hands together and closing his eyes. ‘Do you want to say Grace or shall I?’
Cara couldn’t tell whether or not he was joking. ‘Errmm...it’s probably better if you do,’ she replied, not wanting to offend him by laughing on the off-chance that he was being serious. She even found herse
lf automatically copying his pose, prepared to go along with the ritual if it meant something to him.
‘OK then, allow me. Lord, thank you for this lovely meal you’ve set before us. And thank you for giving me the opportunity to share it with someone as beautiful and as captivating as the lady sitting opposite me.’ Cara opened one eye slightly, a cynical smile spreading across her face. ‘And finally, oh Lord,’ he continued, ‘give me the strength to resist her advances, which will inevitably come later as a result of the charm, humour and attention that I intend to shower upon her for the rest of the evening. Amen.’
He opened his eyes just in time to see the approaching napkin before it smacked him right in his face. ‘Ow! What was that for?’
‘Here am I thinking that you’re an honest, decent Christian man, while all along you’re nothing but a blaspheming pervert! However, I suppose I’ve no option but to go along with your evil ways for the time being: there’s no way I’m leaving before I’ve eaten my lovely dinner.’
For the following hour or so, the conversation flowed as freely as running water. Indeed, such was the familiarity between them, that anyone looking in would have assumed that Cara and Ben had known each other for years. The topics of conversation ranged from favourite music to worst ever holidays: Ben was impressed by Cara’s almost encyclopaedic knowledge of rock bands from the 1970s and 80s; whereas Cara was left surprised by Ben’s penchant for watching period dramas and pleasantly puzzled by his self-confessed addiction to romance novels. They both had their reasons for keeping the tone of the conversation light-hearted and superficial; enjoying the rare opportunity to relax and have fun with another like-minded adult, free from the shackles of their everyday commitments.
When she had finished eating, Cara sat back and patted her stomach. ‘I have to say, that was one of the nicest meals I’ve had in a long time. It was absolutely delicious.’
‘There’s more in the pan if you’d care for seconds?’
‘You’re joking aren’t you? I don’t think I could manage another mouthful.’
‘Well, I hope you have room for dessert? Chloe and I have made our world famous chocolate mousse. And if I do say so myself, it’s pure, unadulterated indulgence in a glass.’
‘Now you’re talking! You certainly know how to spoil a girl, Mr Price.’
‘Don’t thank me; it was Chloe’s suggestion,’ he lied. ‘Look, why don’t we go through to the lounge? I could do with a comfy seat.’
‘Okay. But first let me give you a hand with the washing up.’
Ben seemed genuinely aggrieved. ‘No way Jose. You are under strict orders to leave all of that to me. I’m not wasting one moment of our evening scrubbing the burnt bottom of a pan when I could be talking to you. To the lounge,’ he said, ushering her out of the kitchen. ‘Quick march, on the double.’
‘Yes sir. It’s just that I’m not used to being waited on hand and foot like this.’
‘Enjoy it while it lasts,’ he smiled. ‘It’s all downhill from here on in.’
‘Well in that case,’ she said, nodding towards the hallway, ‘lead the way.’
They walked into the lounge together, Ben inviting Cara to take a seat while he turned on the stereo and selected some music. As she sank back into the soft, comfortable leather sofa, Ben left the room, returning shortly after with the desserts. He joined her on the sofa, and for the following few minutes they sat together quietly, enjoying the soft, rich taste of the chocolate and the opportunity to relax and unwind.
‘Do you like it here?’ asked Ben, taking the empty glass from her and setting it down on the side-table next to his own. ‘Shepherd’s Cross, I mean.’
‘Part of me does, and part of me doesn’t. It’s certainly been an experience. It’s an entirely different world to the one I grew up in, but I couldn’t ever envisage myself settling here; I’m far too young for that. My friend, Bronwyn - I don’t know if you’ve met her? - she runs the Youth Hostel. She loves it here…it reminds her of her home in New Zealand. And there are lots of people who have been born and bred here and would never live anywhere else. But it’s not for me, not yet anyway. I want to experience the world, not hide away from it.’
‘I hate it here,’ Ben said matter-of-factly, stretching back into the sofa. ‘The place is too cramped, too claustrophobic. As soon as I step out of the door I feel like I’m being watched. Like Neighbourhood Watch on steroids!’ he said, chuckling to himself. ‘I know some people like the close knit feel of a small community, but not me. Give me the anonymity of the big city any day of the week.’
‘If that’s the case, why don’t you move back?’
‘I intend to. Just as soon as the housing market picks up. Jane - my ex-wife - thought it would be good for Chloe to be raised in the country, safe from all those nasty Geordie kids. She convinced me to buy this place, so we did, and like everyone else in the street we paid way over the top for it. It’s not worth anything near what we paid for it back then, so I’m afraid I’m stuck here, at least until the economy picks up. And as soon as it does, I’m out of here. Back to the big smoke for me.’
Cara sat up and looked at him. ‘Not that it’s important,’ she said, ‘but I finish my posting here in a couple of months. I’ll be transferring to Durham; at least I think I will.’ She smiled at him and winked. ‘I thought it better that I let you know now before you fall head over heels in love with me.’
Ben laughed. ‘I’ll try not to. Although it feels like we’ve known each other for years!’
‘It does, doesn’t it? Anyway, the last thing I want is a relationship. Mike - my ex-husband - he left me for another woman. It’s taken me a long time to get over it, and I think part of me is still struggling to come to terms with how he deceived me.’ She looked up at Ben and smiled. ‘Why does life have to be so bloody complicated?’
‘I know what you mean; honestly I do. I’ve been there with Jane. Okay, she didn’t leave me for anyone else, at least I don’t think she did, but having someone reject you like that knocks the stuffing out of you…turns your world upside down. I know it’s easier said than done, but you have to try to move forward. Life’s too short.’ He smiled at her. ‘Listen to us; we sound like a right couple of losers.’
She laughed, placing her hand over her eyes and shaking her head in embarrassment. ‘I know. Five minutes ago, I was enjoying a light-hearted evening, and here I am now, pouring my heart out to you like some tearful idiot.’
Ben smiled. ‘Come here,’ he said, taking her hand in his and pulling her closer. They sat holding each other for several minutes, enjoying the intimacy of the moment, not a word passing between them.
The silence was broken by a faint crying noise coming from upstairs that caused them to jump swiftly to their feet, neither of them wanting Chloe to see them like this. ‘Talk about bad timing,’ said Ben, walking to the hallway. ‘Sorry about this, but I better settle her down. I’ll not be a minute.’
Cara took the opportunity of being alone to tidy herself up. She went to the large mirror that hung above the mantelpiece and studied her reflection, her cheeks still flushed from their embrace. Despite her ruffled hair, she couldn’t prevent a beaming smile from spreading across her face, adrenaline still racing around her body. She felt a mix of guilt and pleasure at the situation she’d allowed herself to get into, but overriding both of those emotions was the feeling of sheer happiness; it had been so long since she’d allowed herself to get that close to somebody. Something about Ben Price had grabbed her from the first moment she’d seen him: a sadness in his eyes; a vulnerability. Perhaps it was because his situation almost mirrored her own; both of them recently separated, wading their way through the pressures of life without the support of a loved one to fall back on when events became too tough to face alone. Get a grip, you soppy tart. Before you know it, you’ll be singing ‘Strangers in the Night’ and asking what his star sign is. Why don’t you be honest with yourself and admit that you fancy the pants off him! Okay, so maybe there wa
s a physical attraction, but that was more of an added bonus than anything else. There was something much deeper that drew her to him, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She didn’t hear him as he came back into the room, her thoughts elsewhere. ‘What are you smiling for?’ he asked, startling her, making her jump away from the mirror.
‘What?’ she asked, coming back to the present. ‘I wasn’t smiling, was I?’
He walked towards her and held out his hands, which she took without any hesitation before moving towards him and allowing him to hold her. ‘I don’t mind,’ he said. ‘It’s better than crying.’ He held her close, needing to feel her next to him.
‘I’ve had a lovely evening,’ she said.
‘Me too. But before I get down on one knee and ask you to marry me, how about I put the kettle on and we round off the evening with a nice cup of coffee?’
‘Good idea. Mind you, I don’t want the details of our hot date straying beyond these four walls, do you hear? I have a reputation to keep; you know what this place is like for gossip.’
‘My lips are sealed. I’ve never been one to kiss and tell, and besides, there’s no way I’m jeopardising my chances of seeing you again. Speaking of which, how would you rate my chances? I’m not talking about a full-on, heavy-duty relationship – I think we’ve agreed that neither of us are in the right place for one of those just yet – but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with spending some time getting to know each other.’
Cara folded her arms and smiled at him. ‘I would say your chances are better than average,’ she said, moving closer to him. ‘But nothing serious, eh? Let’s enjoy the ride – no pun intended!’
‘You’ve got a one track mind, Cara Jones,’ he joked, taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen. ‘Not that I’m complaining!’
