by Anna Jacobs
‘Oh, that’s lovely for you. And of course I don’t mind Hope coming here. Your mother and I get on very well and we both love that child.’
‘I’ll whizz Mum and Millie back here after my afternoon classes and change my clothes then. It’s marvellous having a car. Finding my birth father has been good in so many ways. Wasn’t it kind of him to see how much I needed my own transport? I can do so much more these days. I’ll just put away the shopping, then go back to college. I wouldn’t mind a piece of cake first, though. It’s one of my favourites.’
Ginger watched Winifred blush with pleasure, but there was no pretence. Janey was definitely enjoying the cake.
When the young woman had left, Nell asked, ‘Are things still going well with Janey and her birth father?’
‘Yes. And with her half-sister. They all get on like a house on fire. It’s lovely to see.’ She chuckled and looked at Ginger. ‘Before Janey, I used to feel lonely and few people ever came here. A car would have made so much difference to me. Now, I may be too old to learn to drive but people are coming and going all the time and I absolutely love it.’
‘That’s so good to hear.’
During the visit Ginger had noticed that both Winifred and Janey avoided looking at her hair after the first glance and blink of surprise. Well, she was guessing that was what had made them look away. She had made a real mess of dyeing it. It was now as red as red hair could ever get, which didn’t really suit her because she had a natural redhead’s pale skin. Only she’d been too busy and too upset to do anything about the hair colour, what with Donny thumping her and then the interview.
Maybe she should do something now?
As they walked back through the grounds of Dennings, she took a deep breath and broached the idea of letting the dye-job grow out of her hair. ‘What do you think, Nell?’
‘I think that’s a great idea, but I have a better plan than waiting for it to grow out, because it’d be ages before it looked good again. Why don’t I phone my hairdresser and see when she can fit you in to strip out the colour? She’s really good.’
‘Oh. Well.’ Then Ginger thought of how horrible her hair had looked in the mirror this morning and about her coming trip with Iain. Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Yes, please! It’d be wonderful if she could do it today.’
She stopped speaking abruptly, forgetting her own problems as she entered the hall of the big house for the first time. ‘Oh, this is so beautiful!’
‘Isn’t it? I fell in love with this house as well as with Angus when I came here from Australia – he’s my second husband, you know. The first one was a selfish rat. Hang on a minute. I’ll just phone Penny.’
She looked up from the phone a minute later. ‘She can fit you in if you go straight away, so I’ll drive you into town to get you there on time.’
‘I have my own car back now.’
‘No time to walk down and get it, though. But that’s all right. I can do some shopping while I wait to bring you back. Come on!’
Ginger was silent on the drive down Peppercorn Street into town. She was starting to worry about what she was about to do. Was this the right thing for her? Would she look older with silver hair?
What would Iain think?
When they stopped outside the shop, Nell leant across to pat Ginger’s hand as if she understood what a huge step this was for her. ‘You’ll look great. Penny’s the best hairdresser I’ve ever had.’
An hour and a half later, when Penny had finished, Ginger stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was now a gleaming silver and was cut differently too. It looked lovely – only it didn’t feel like her when she looked at her face. It looked too elegant. And she wasn’t the elegant type, couldn’t afford to even try since she picked up a lot of her clothes in charity shops.
But it was too late now so she smiled at the hairdresser. ‘Lovely. Thank you so much for fitting me in.’
The woman grinned. ‘It’ll feel strange at first, but you’ll get used to it. Whoever did that last colour job made a right old mess of it, didn’t they?’
‘Um … yes.’ She paid Penny and walked out of the shop, nearly bumping into Warren Cutler of all people on the pavement outside because he wasn’t looking where he was going.
He didn’t recognise her, just pushed on past with a mutter which ought to have been an apology, but sounded more like annoyance that anyone had dared to get in his way.
She stuck out her tongue in his direction as he walked on, then smiled ruefully. She was definitely not the elegant type.
The sun was shining and she stood motionless for a few moments, enjoying its warmth. Then someone tooted a car horn and she saw that Nell had drawn up at the kerb, so got in quickly.
‘Oh, my!’
She waited and when Nell didn’t say anything further, had to ask, ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means your hair looks great, Ginger. Absolutely great. You’ll wow Iain tomorrow.’
‘Does it really?’
They stopped at a traffic light and Nell looked sideways. ‘Are you regretting it? You shouldn’t. She’s done a beautiful job.’
‘I’m not used to it yet. I’ve always had red hair, you see. Always. Whether it was my own colour or out of a packet. I don’t look … older, do I?’
‘No, of course you don’t. I think you look younger with it silver than you looked with that garish red which took all the life out of your skin.’
Ginger let out a sigh of relief and heard Nell chuckle.
‘Wasn’t that Warren Cutler I saw walking down the street?’
‘Yes. He bumped into me and didn’t recognise me. Didn’t apologise, though.’
‘Hmm. He’s not proving very friendly and he’s an utter chauvinist, fawning over Angus and ignoring me as much as he can, though actually I’m the one who’s managing the project. He doesn’t seem able to accept that a female can be in charge – you’d not expect a man as young as him to have that attitude in this day and age.’
‘Well, it’s his carvings you want him for, not his personality, and from what Elise says, he’s very clever with wood.’
Nell shot her a quick glance. ‘Very generous of you to say so.’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t believe in holding grudges. Life’s too short.’
They turned into the grounds of Dennings and at Saffron Lane, Ginger got out. She hesitated, then went into the flat rather than Elise’s house. She needed to work out which furniture she was bringing and whether she had anything Nell could use.
And she needed some time alone to get used to her new hair.
It was quiet in the end house and she relished that. She went into the bathroom and stared at her reflection for a long time. ‘You’ve done it now, girl,’ she told the stranger in the mirror.
She turned and twisted, looking at herself from as many angles as she could manage, then muttered, ‘Oh, don’t be such a fool! It’s done now.’
Pushing aside her doubts, she took out her little notebook and got to work on the lists. She could remember exactly what was in her own house and what she’d put in the storage locker, and as she walked round, she mentally placed some of them in this little flat and put them in the ‘definitely’ column.
She just hoped they could get the removal job done while Donny was at work. Though that meant he’d come home to a house without furniture. Maybe she could leave him the last few bits and pieces.
And maybe not. He had no right to be in her house. He hadn’t brought any furniture with him, just his sound system. She’d leave that and nothing else, to give him a nudge to get out.
Was he even living there now? She’d better phone Kerry and ask about her son. It never hurt to know what to expect.
Chapter Fourteen
‘Don’t forget, we’re holding more interviews in a few days,’ Nell told her husband that evening. ‘I’ve been checking through the paperwork again in case I’ve been too optimistic, but I don’t think so. That sudden late rush of applications
has turned up a few artists whose work looks interesting – and is probably commercial in our sense.’
Angus gave her one of his lazy, relaxed smiles, the sort that said he’d just satisfactorily finished a tricky job and come out of his absent-minded, software-problem-solving mode. ‘So you’ve told me. And you’ve got Stacy primed to join us in doing the interviews this time, which adds a new viewpoint to act as a countercheck to ours. So why are you still worrying?’
‘Because I feel I chose badly with Cutler. And it was me, because I’m the one who pushed him as first choice. You two weren’t as certain about him.’
‘Perhaps you did make a mistake, but no one is perfect, so don’t beat yourself up over it. His application made him sound great to me too, and he was quite pleasant at the interview. Besides, whatever his personality faults, his woodcarvings are superb and’ – he pressed one finger over her lips to stop her speaking – ‘most importantly of all, it’s too late to change his appointment now, anyway. He’s got a contract for a residency and we have to live with that.’
Angus gave her a quick hug. ‘If the worst comes to the worst, and he’s horrible to have around, you can take consolation from the fact that his stay will end in six months’ time and you don’t have to renew the contract.’
‘Six months can be a long time to live near a bad neighbour. I feel sorry for Elise and Stacy already.’
‘What can he do to them? Darling, you’re letting this get you off balance. Cutler’s not likely to turn out to be a murderer or rapist, after all!’
She shrugged. ‘I know that, of course I do, but I feel … well, that he could turn nasty. And Elise is in her mid seventies. She’s intelligent and talented, but anyone that age is more vulnerable physically.’
‘She’ll have Ginger and Stacy around, and don’t underestimate our Elise. She’s no pushover. Stop worrying.’
‘I’ll try. But Angus, you will keep an eye on him as well as me being watchful, won’t you?’
‘Yes, darling. I promise.’
‘Even if you get offered a fascinating job?’
‘I’ll do my best not to immerse myself completely in my work till after the interviews. More than that I can’t promise. Fascinating jobs often pay fascinating amounts of money. Now, tell me more details about this new group of artists you’ve selected.’
‘Well, one who strikes me as particularly talented is a potter, but as we discussed before we interviewed the last potter, there are a lot of hassles to getting pieces fired and I’m not prepared to install a kiln, even a small modern one, even if our venture is proved financially successful. So I discarded this woman, I’m afraid. Though I shall offer to sell her work in our shop.’
‘Right thing to do.’
‘Good. Glad you agree. That leaves me torn between a cartoonist, a soft-toy maker, a designer of classy costume jewellery and a weaver. All four of them stand out as having a special sort of talent, but we only have the last two houses to offer as accommodation.’
‘We did expect to house two artists in Bay Tree Cottage, so that gives us housing for three out of the four – if they’re suitable.’
‘Yes. Number 6 divides up quite neatly into two living areas and two studios, and there’s a shower room as well as a big bathroom. I’m inclined to set up a two-people arrangement with Number 5 as well. It is bigger than the first four houses, after all. It’ll give them less space than having a whole house each, and they’ll have to share the living area, but how much working space can a cartoonist need? Maybe two of them wouldn’t mind sharing accommodation rather than missing out on a residency. We can always offer that option.’
‘No other spare artists to interview?’
‘No one whose work struck me as special. If these four aren’t suitable, or don’t want to share, we’ll have to advertise again.’
‘Well, let’s see what they’re like. I shall hope we find our final residents this time round, so that we can get out of all that tedious reading of applications.’
She didn’t let herself smile. They’d had so many applications it had been a massive chore going through them and he’d become distinctly grumpy, a rare occurrence with Angus. ‘I’m glad you agree, love.’
‘What about the art gallery, though? We still have to find someone to run that – and then there’s the museum.’ He looked at her ruefully. ‘Have we bitten off more than we can chew?’
She laughed. ‘Oh, definitely. But you did the same thing when you took on the renovation of the big house after you inherited and you’ve done wonders here. I was thinking of offering the job of running the art gallery as a part-time job locally, because now that we’ve given Ginger the bedsitter in Number 1, we’ve no accommodation to offer anyone.’
‘Is this what’s been keeping you awake at night?’ he asked gently.
‘Yes. This is so different from anything else I’ve ever tried to do in my life.’
‘The world won’t come to an end if we don’t make as much money as we’d hoped from this enterprise, Nell darling. I’m still betting that we’ll come out on the plus side financially after a while and lay the foundations for a steady income which will help pay for maintenance for years to come. That’s the main reason we’re doing it, after all. You’re a born organiser, love. Don’t sell yourself short.’
She reached out to clasp his hand. ‘You’re such a comfort, Angus. I’ve never had anyone to lean on and share my worries with before.’
‘Then remember how you raised three sons without help and lean on me whenever you need to with this – or anything else – but don’t let that prevent you from trusting in your own judgement. Above all, stop worrying. We’ve set it up as a long-term project, and I have enough put by to pay for the first round of residencies. And apart from that, I’m bringing in enough money for our living expenses and to cover the finishing touches to Saffron Lane. Ah, come here, my love. Don’t cry.’
‘They’re happy tears, happy I found you.’
He put his arms round her and they stood close together for a few quiet moments, not saying anything.
Sometimes love didn’t need words, she thought dreamily as she leant against him. Sometimes it was tangible, even if invisible.
Chapter Fifteen
Iain picked Ginger up at two minutes to four the following morning. She’d realised last night that they were leaving on a Saturday, and Donny might or might not be at work. She should have thought of that and planned to go on a weekday. But she couldn’t chop and change when Iain was being so kind, and anyway, why should she be afraid of going into her own house?
She tiptoed outside, hoping she hadn’t woken Elise. Iain took her bag of supplies, stowed it in the back of his small van and made sure she was comfortably seated. He glanced at her hair but didn’t say anything.
‘Ready?’
‘Yes.’ But she had a sick feeling in her stomach, wondering how Donny would react if he happened to come home while they were there. Kerry next door said he was still around, but out at work usually from Monday to Friday and mostly on Saturdays as well.
Ginger hadn’t contacted him, was hoping desperately not to bump into him. That upset her more than anything. Fancy not wanting to see your own son!
She realised Iain hadn’t started the engine and looked up to find him staring at her.
‘You all right, Ginger?’
She could only shrug and admit, ‘I was just thinking about Donny, hoping he won’t be at home.’
Iain laid his big warm hand on hers. ‘If he is, I won’t let him hurt you.’
‘He’s big and can get violent. I don’t want him to hurt you either.’
‘Bless you, my work keeps me in trim and builds muscle, and I’ve also got a black belt in karate. I think I can hold my own, and without hurting him – unless he insists on coming back for more.’
She blinked in shock. ‘I can’t imagine you doing martial arts. You seem so … well, if you don’t mind me saying so, gentle.’
‘Why should I m
ind? I take it as a compliment. I’m not at all aggressive, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let anyone walk all over me. I believe people ought to be able to defend themselves whenever possible. I got mugged once, ages ago, so I took a course in karate after that, and I’ve kept in training, more or less, depending on work. Of course, it’s not always possible to defend yourself adequately, given that some people are bigger than others, or attack by stealth. You can only do your best to be prepared.’
With that he started the engine and drove off. He didn’t talk much, didn’t seem to expect her to talk either, and the peace of the early morning drive gradually settled her nerves. Her husband had always chatted, or rather, talked at her, dribbling out words non-stop whenever he was around, and expecting her to listen and reply, even if it was about sport, which she didn’t enjoy. Donny was like his dad, but he would throw occasional remarks at her like darts into a board and got angry when she didn’t respond.
But Iain – ah, he was different from any man she’d ever met before, so very easy to be with.
Every now and then he mentioned some point of interest on their route without seeming to need a reply. And they were always things of interest to her as if he understood that instinctively.
After two hours, he asked, ‘Ready for a cup of tea yet?’
‘I’d die for one.’
‘Oh, good! I’m getting a bit thirsty myself. There’s a service station about two miles further up the motorway. We’ll stop there.’
She used the amenities then joined him at a table near the window.
‘I got hungry, so I bought us something to eat.’ He indicated the plates on the table as she sat down. ‘I know you said you’d bring some food, but I’ve a dreadfully hearty appetite, I’m afraid.’
And she found she too was enjoying the crunchy buttered toast and jam. She’d been too anxious to eat any breakfast.
