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Bay Tree Cottage

Page 15

by Anna Jacobs

Ginger almost protested that she didn’t want her son going to court, then shut her mouth before the words could escape her. She’d been too soft before, too cowardly. Donny needed a sharp shock if he was to be saved.

  If he could be saved.

  She wasn’t allowed to stay with Iain and rest in his arms, something she desperately craved, until after the female officer had examined her and photos had been taken of her new bruises. She refused to let them take her to a doctor. She just wanted to get her things together and go back to Wiltshire.

  By the time the police got ready to leave, it was nearly teatime and she felt tired enough to fall asleep standing upright.

  ‘Do you have somewhere to go tonight?’ the policewoman asked.

  Ginger hesitated. ‘You’re absolutely certain Donny will be staying in the hospital tonight?’

  ‘Yes. Under guard. You do realise that what he’s accused of is assault? He’s already threatened the nursing staff as well.’

  ‘If he’s not being let out, I can finish packing my things and we’ll leave before my son gets out of hospital tomorrow. We may even sleep here, just for tonight.’ She looked at Iain. ‘If that’s all right with you?’

  ‘As long as you’re safe, love, I’ll fit in with what you want.’

  There. He’d done it again, called her ‘love’. It made her feel … better, not so alone … loved.

  ‘Keep this handy in case you need help for any reason.’ The officer handed Ginger a business card. ‘Do you have a mobile phone? Can you give me your number?’

  Ginger gave it to her and Iain did the same with his. She almost managed to stop her voice wobbling when she said the numbers. Just hang on, she told herself. They’ll be gone in a minute.

  ‘Can you please stay in Newcastle until your son has been before the magistrate?’

  Ginger looked at the woman in shock. ‘You mean we can’t go back to Wiltshire yet?’

  ‘Your son will be brought up before the magistrate for a quick preliminary hearing on Monday morning, unless his health doesn’t permit. Obviously, they’ll want to speak to you as well. You’ll probably be able to leave after that’s over.’

  Once the police car had left, Ginger looked round, sickened by how filthy everything was on the ground floor. ‘How can he live like this?’

  ‘Some folk do. It’s not your fault, love.’

  ‘I couldn’t stand it being so dirty.’

  ‘Nor could I. Look, I’d better phone my daughter and get her to take charge at our garden centre for a day or two longer. She loves playing boss there.’

  ‘You own a garden centre as well?’ she asked in surprise.

  ‘Just a small one. I prefer doing the gardening to selling things, though. So you see, as I’m my own boss, I can stay here as long as you need me without you having to worry about it.’

  ‘You always make things seem so easy.’ She couldn’t resist linking her arm in his for a moment’s comfort. And then she didn’t want to let go.

  He gave her arm a quick squeeze. ‘Things mostly are easy unless people try to complicate them, I find. Is there somewhere for us to sleep here or do we need to find a hotel?’

  ‘I’ll go upstairs and check what state things are in.’

  ‘We’ll both go up. I want to make sure everything is safe. And we’ll bolt the front door first. No one’s going to catch me by surprise again. Wait here! I’m going to be a bossy male and insist on going upstairs first, as well.’

  She was nervous enough to move down from the bottom step and wait for him.

  He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. ‘Stop worrying. We’ll sort it all out.’

  She could feel the warmth of that kiss all the way up the stairs.

  Donny’s bedroom was a pigsty. She shuddered at the sight and sour smell of it.

  ‘We’ll leave this for him to deal with, shall we?’ Iain closed the door on it firmly.

  She was surprised to find her own bedroom exactly as she’d left it.

  ‘I’d have thought he’d have come and slept in my bed,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s bigger than his and he was always complaining about only having a single.’

  ‘Have a look round but it doesn’t seem to me as if anything’s been messed around with, so he’s not totally without respect for you.’

  ‘It hasn’t felt like that lately.’

  She opened cupboards and drawers, checked the bed, even looking under it, and shook her head in bafflement. ‘He hasn’t been in here at all, as far as I can tell. But there’s only this bedroom, apart from his and I wouldn’t lodge a dog in there. I’m sorry I don’t have a spare room to offer you.’

  ‘Then we have two choices because I’m not leaving you on your own tonight or tomorrow, both for safety and because you’ll start fretting again. We can both sleep in your double bed or we can find a hotel.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Iain grinned. ‘If we sleep here it’d be easier, and I promise not to touch you – if that’s what you want.’

  And she said it out loud without thinking. ‘It might not be what I want.’

  He gave her an immediate cracking hug. ‘Then we’ll sleep here and see what happens. Do we need to change the sheets?’

  ‘I don’t think so. These are the ones I left on the bed and they’d only been on it one night.’

  ‘Then let’s go and sort out something for tea. I’m hungry again. Is there a takeaway place of some sort nearby? Remember, I’m supposed to be buying us a meal.’

  She hadn’t expected to be amused, not after all that had happened today, but she was. ‘You’re a stomach on wheels, you are.’

  ‘I plead guilty.’

  ‘There’s a chip shop on the corner of the next street. They do really good fish and chips, too.’

  ‘Good. We’ll get some later. Now, let’s start sorting out what you want to take back to Saffron Lane. I can wait another hour or so for my meal.’

  She took her lists out of her bag and as she frowned at them, her stomach rumbled. ‘No, let’s get the food first. I’m hungry too. I’ve got it all written down here, so I can go through the house quite quickly tomorrow to sort out everything I want to take. The storage place is open all weekend, so we can pick up the rest of my things when convenient.’

  ‘That’s settled, then.’

  Ginger and Iain were too tired by the time they’d eaten to do anything but crawl into bed. She did get a cuddle before he fell asleep. She loved that. It had been so long since anyone had simply cuddled her.

  She lay beside him, listening to his long, slow breaths. She couldn’t keep her eyes open, so followed his example and let sleep take over.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Ginger woke in the morning, there was no one beside her in bed, but she heard Iain whistling in the bathroom. Then the whistling stopped abruptly and he yelled, ‘Ow!’ and muttered a curse.

  She went rushing in to see what was wrong and blushed furiously to find him naked and damp, trying to shave with the little razor she used sometimes for under her arms.

  She was about to back out when she saw the blood on his face. ‘You’re hurt! Let me see.’

  He turned with one of his cheeky smiles. ‘I just failed my test in using an old-fashioned razor, that’s all.’

  ‘Let me see.’

  But she found herself pressed against warm damp flesh as she started to check how deep the cut was and forgot about the blood completely when he bent his head to give her a kiss. It went on and on until they both wound up back in the bedroom.

  ‘Not rushing you, am I?’ he asked breathlessly, caressing her cheek with one hand.

  ‘Not rushing me at all.’

  It was over an hour before they got up again.

  ‘To be continued,’ he said, pressing a kiss on his fingertip and placing it on the end of her nose.

  ‘I didn’t know,’ she whispered, blushing furiously but determined to tell him.

  He turned at the door, frowning. ‘Didn’t know what?’

  ‘
That it could be so good for a woman.’

  ‘But you’re a married woman! With a child.’

  She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but wasn’t going to lie to him. ‘My husband was always … in a hurry. And … he didn’t do it very often. And he said that was because I wasn’t good at it.’ She’d read about it and worried, knowing it wasn’t just her. But Alan had refused to seek help, so in the end, she’d just gone along with it.

  She was always so tired after work it was a relief when he didn’t go after her as often as some women said their husbands did.

  Iain snorted in disgust. ‘How selfish of him! And how short-sighted. You and I have managed better than that already. Just wait till we’ve had a bit more practice at being together.’

  That sent a happy little shiver down her spine.

  He turned to leave then stuck his head back into the room. ‘I forgot to tell you how much I like your new hairdo. The silver looks very elegant.’

  That made her day start even more brightly, because she’d been wondering why he hadn’t commented on such a big change and had worried that he didn’t like it.

  She rushed round the bedroom, piling the clothes she wanted to take with her on the bed and kicking the other stuff into a corner. They could stuff these in rubbish bin liners and drop them off at the charity shop on Monday.

  ‘Breakfast is ready!’ Iain yelled from downstairs.

  She ran down the stairs to join him, not feeling shy with him now, but happy and relaxed.

  ‘It’s only the sandwiches you brought with us, toasted. But it’ll hold us till we can find somewhere to buy a proper cooked breakfast. It’s still only half past seven, after all.’

  ‘Is that all?’ She hadn’t even thought to check the time.

  After they’d eaten she guided him round the house, pointing out the furniture she wanted to keep, avoiding Donny’s room.

  Working together they carried the bigger things out to the van, helped by Tom from down the road, who had guessed she was leaving for good and had come to say goodbye to her. She’d helped him with his father sometimes till the old man died, and she knew what a kind chap Tom was.

  It all took longer than she’d expected and she was glad of the extra day because she was terrified of forgetting something important.

  When they got back from picking up her things at the storage place, she saw Kerry staring out of the window next door and stopped to say she was moving out, but didn’t let Kerry start nattering.

  ‘I like your new hairdo. Suits you, Ginger.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Her neighbour winked and gestured towards Iain. ‘I can see you fell on your feet. He looks nice. Good luck.’

  ‘He is nice.’

  She rejoined Iain and stared into the back of the van. Even after everything had been loaded, it wasn’t full. She hadn’t a lot to show for her life of hard work, had she?

  Iain started to shut the back doors of the van, then stopped. ‘Are you sure that’s all you want to take with you, Ginger? We could load any other things that might come in useful and I could store them for you if you don’t have room in the bedsitter.’

  She pulled herself up straight. ‘I’m very sure, thank you. You’re sure it’ll all be safe in the van?’

  ‘I’ve got very good locks and an alarm system. We’ll know if someone tries to break into it.’

  As they sat chatting that evening, she tried to explain why she was taking so little. ‘I’ve lived with rubbish furniture most of my life and I’m not doing it any more, if I can help it. I’m only taking enough with me to get by for a while. My sewing materials and photos are much more important to me than furniture, anyway. And maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to sell an embroidery or two in the gallery. Nell says she’ll let me have a go.’

  ‘When we get you settled, I want to see all your embroideries. From what you say and what I’ve seen so far, you’ve put your heart and soul into them.’

  Trust him to go straight to the core of everything. He was so perceptive.

  They had another quiet evening. It was wonderful to sit with someone who really listened to what you said. He was wonderful.

  In the morning Iain grinned at her. ‘We’ve got plenty of time to grab something more substantial to eat before we have to be at the police station. Eleven o’clock, they said.’

  ‘Oh dear! I’d forgotten how hungry you’d be. We should have bought something more substantial yesterday.’

  ‘Much nicer to let someone else cook us breakfast.’

  He pulled her to him for one of his delightful quick hugs, then set off driving. ‘Tell me which way to go.’

  She gave him directions.

  ‘I can wait to eat when I have to.’ He winked. ‘Some things are far better than eating anyway. And loving you comes head of the list. Besides, feeding me isn’t your responsibility. I’m an adult. If I get desperate, I can provide for myself.’

  What a difference there was between Iain and her husband! And her son.

  After they’d eaten, she looked at her watch. ‘Nearly time. I’m still wondering why they phoned to tell us to go to the police station, not the magistrate’s court.’

  ‘We’ll soon find out.’

  When Donny was brought into the big room at the police station to join them, he was in a wheelchair. He had his arm in plaster and he looked dreadful.

  He scowled across the room at his mother and mouthed the word ‘bitch’.

  She could have wept to see him looking grey-faced, with a fat belly and hands that kept trembling, however much he tried to hide that. He looked years older than thirty.

  An older man came into the room, accompanied by a clerk. He introduced himself as the magistrate dealing with a special programme for violent alcoholics who hadn’t a long record of misbehaviour. ‘That’s why we’re seeing if we can do this more informally. It’s a project I helped set up.’

  ‘Good idea,’ she said.

  He turned to Iain. ‘Mr Darling?’

  Iain nodded across at him.

  ‘You’re still sure about waiving your right to charge Mr Brunham with assault?’

  ‘I am, Your Honour. As long as he gets help for his problem.’

  ‘Then if he agrees to take part in the new rehabilitation programme, we can avoid the necessity for jail completely.’

  He turned to address Donny. ‘Do you agree to entering this programme and staying on it for the necessary twelve weeks, Mr Brunham?’

  Donny shrugged.

  ‘I need you to answer me clearly.’

  ‘What choice do I have but to do it?’

  Ginger could have shaken him. Here they were, making things easier for him, and he couldn’t even be polite.

  ‘You can choose to go to jail instead, that’s one choice. But thanks to the man you attacked agreeing not to pursue charges, you also have the choice to go on this special rehabilitation programme. There will be no jail and you’ll have no criminal record if you stick it out to the end and stay out of trouble for two years afterwards. So, which do you prefer?’

  ‘I’ll do the rehab.’

  The policeman standing beside him gave him a nudge and whispered something.

  ‘Um … I’ll do the rehab – Your Honour.’

  ‘Good.’ The magistrate turned to Ginger. ‘Are you all right with that, Mrs Brunham?’

  ‘Yes. Definitely. Thank you very much.’

  ‘Good. Then we only have to make sure Mr Brunham gets his clothes and possessions from the council house you are, I believe, about to vacate, and we can send him on his way to the rehab centre.’

  ‘I’ve removed anything I want already,’ she said. ‘He can have whatever he likes that’s left, but I don’t want to go back there with him. I’d have told the council people to clear the place but there’s no one in the office on a Sunday. I’ll get in touch with them by email.’

  ‘Very well. We’ll make sure your son gets a chance to collect his possessions and then we’ll leave i
t to the local authority to clear the house. They’ll want to refurbish it for the next tenant, I’m sure. And I’m sorry you’ve been upset by all this, Mrs Brunham.’

  She glanced instinctively towards her son and for a moment she thought Donny looked shamefaced, but the scowl quickly returned to his face.

  Probably just her imagination.

  When the formalities were complete, the police took Donny away and Iain put his arm round her shoulders as they walked outside. ‘That was hard on you, love. You did well to keep yourself together.’

  She managed to hold back the tears till they were sitting in his van and then she lost it completely, sobbing against his chest, while Iain’s big, capable hand patted her shoulders from time to time.

  Once the tears had dried up, he said quietly, ‘Let’s go. You’ve got a new home, new life and new friends. Don’t look back. You can’t change the past.’

  She nodded. ‘I know. And Donny’s future is in his own hands now, I know that too. But what he’s done still hurts.’

  ‘Of course it does, and any time I want to save on washing my clothes, you can weep all over me about it.’

  That brought a smile briefly to her face and she dared to say, ‘Thanks, Iain. For everything.’

  ‘I’m glad to be here for you.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emil enjoyed shopping for furniture. He’d intended to buy only the barest necessities but was seduced by a sound system and TV, not to mention an extremely comfortable burgundy leather lounge suite which included two recliner armchairs.

  He phoned the man he’d recommended to Abbie and arranged for Phil to move the various items from the bedsitter.

  ‘Thank you very much for recommending me to the lady.’

  ‘My pleasure. How about moving my things in tomorrow afternoon, then?’

  ‘Fine.’

  Emil gave Phil the address and arranged to have him pick up the goods and meet him at the flat.

  ‘Second floor, did you say?’ the man asked.

  ‘Yes. But there’s a lift.’

 

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