by Paige Toon
‘Pimm’s?’ Faith offers, lifting up a jug.
‘Now you’re talking.’
As Matilda holds up an empty glass for Faith to fill, I settle on the side of the rug that’s closest to the nearby hedge, patting the shaded grass to encourage Bertie to lie out of the sun.
Now that I think about it, didn’t Matilda say it was her friend Nessa who refused to come out when she heard there was a chance Sonny would be there? Wasn’t Faith with one of the cricketers?
‘Are you a cricket fan?’ I ask, hoping to clarify matters.
Matilda answers. ‘About as much of a fan as I am. Faith is seeing Cameron, over there, behind the stick thingies.’
‘Stumps,’ Faith corrects. ‘And I think he’s called the wicketkeeper.’
‘Don’t start getting all technical with me.’ Matilda gives her a withering look.
‘Sorry,’ Faith replies, chastised.
I laugh and take a sip of my first Pimm’s of the summer. The combination of lemonade, ginger ale, fresh strawberries and mint is ridiculously drinkable.
Faith and Matilda have both kicked off their sandals, so I do the same.
The sun is beating down on my arms and legs – I’ve hitched up my long skirt and I’m glad I remembered to apply sunscreen and pick up my floppy straw hat before I came out.
When England feels so inclined, it does summer very well.
Maybe it’s the Pimm’s, maybe it’s the company, maybe it’s the view – Matilda is right: men in cricket whites are hot – but I’m soon feeling very chilled.
‘Where do you live?’ Faith asks me when we’re well into our second jug.
‘Grantchester.’ I point up the hill. ‘Near the Green Man. You?’
‘I’m in Barton, but Cameron’s in Grantchester. He lives on Coton Road.’
Barton is where Sonny’s parents live.
‘I meant to ask you,’ Faith says, turning towards Matilda. ‘I saw Sonny coming out of the farm shop the other day. What’s he doing still around?’
Our thoughts have clearly travelled in the same direction.
‘Yeah, for the summer,’ Matilda replies, digging into her glass and plucking out a strawberry.
‘Oh, right.’ She doesn’t seem particularly fazed by the news. ‘I’ll probably bump into him at some point then.’
‘I don’t think he’ll be staying in Barton for much longer,’ Matilda reveals. ‘He wants to rent a room somewhere. Keen to get out of his parents’ house.’
He told me on Friday night that he was craving his own space.
‘I’ve got a spare room,’ Faith says. ‘But I don’t think Cameron would be too happy about it. Do you know Sonny?’ she asks me.
I nod.
‘Not like that,’ Matilda interjects helpfully. ‘Hannah’s an optician. She met Sonny when he was having an eye test. We work next door to each other.’ She waggles her thumb between us. ‘I’ve warned her what he’s like,’ she adds ominously.
Faith grins. ‘If you’re after boyfriend material, steer clear, but a bit of fun never hurt anyone.’
‘On the contrary,’ Matilda says indignantly. ‘What about poor Nessa?’
‘Nessa?’ Faith barks out a laugh. ‘She should’ve known better. She did know better.’ She glances at me and explains: ‘Sonny and I shared a taxi home a couple of years ago and ended up back at mine. He returned to Amsterdam the next day and that was it. No hard feelings.’ She turns to Matilda. ‘Nessa seemed to think their shag on New Year’s Eve was going to be the start of a beautiful relationship or something. She practically threw herself at him.’
‘Ahem!’ Matilda interrupts loudly.
Faith laughs. ‘Yeah, yeah, pot calling the kettle black, I know. I was determined to share that taxi,’ she admits with a grin. ‘But at least I wasn’t deluded. I don’t know Nessa that well – she’s more Matilda’s friend – but apparently she had a crush on Sonny and was devastated when he didn’t fall at her feet and declare his undying love.’
‘Slight exaggeration,’ Matilda chips in, but she doesn’t correct her.
The sound of applause makes us look over at the boys.
‘Have they finished?’ Faith asks with surprise.
‘Looks like it,’ Matilda replies, getting to her feet and clapping.
Archie looks our way and jogs towards us, a grin on his face. Faith, meanwhile, sets off across the grass towards Cameron. She and Archie high five as they pass.
‘Did you win?’ Matilda calls as Archie approaches.
‘Weren’t you watching? Of course we won.’
‘Ooh, you’re all sweaty,’ she complains with a grin as he reaches her and bends down to give her a hug.
‘I’m so hot,’ he says.
No one around here is denying it.
He catches sight of me over her shoulder. ‘Hey, Hannah,’ he says in warm greeting. ‘I won’t kiss you.’
‘Thanks,’ I reply with a smile.
Sweat is running down his face.
‘We’re heading to the Blue Ball,’ he says. ‘But a few of us are going for a swim first.’
‘Just as well I packed your swimming trunks.’ Matilda turns to me. ‘Did you remember yours?’
‘No, but it’s fine. I’ll be happy sticking my feet in over the side.’
‘Are you sure? You could nip home?’
‘I’m sure.’ I’m not getting into a swimming costume in front of anyone.
*
I soon find myself standing next to Matilda in the shallow water of the river a bit further on towards Cambridge. She decided that she couldn’t be arsed to get changed, so we’ve hiked up our skirts. Well, I have. She’s wearing a thigh-length dress.
The mud is oozing between our toes, but the water is blissfully cool and it’s worth the effort it’s going to be to get clean later.
Faith and Cameron have left – they’ve got a late Sunday lunch with Cameron’s parents this afternoon – and a few of the team members have already set off to the pub.
The river is heaving and barely a moment goes by without the sound of children squealing and laughing. There are families everywhere – picnic rugs have been set up all along the banks and kids are dive-bombing in from the sides and swinging from a rope hanging from the tree opposite. Canoes, punts and paddle-boarders are going past at regular intervals and a fair few noisy ducks are loitering in the hope that there might be some spare picnic morsels coming their way. There’s also a certain black Labrador joining the shenanigans. Bertie has been playing fetch and her slick solid body has been darting between the delighted children who have been taking turns to throw a stick to her. She loves swimming in the river.
Archie is floating on his back near the opposite bank and staring up at the sky, but suddenly he sinks into the water and swims over to us, looking around to check the whereabouts of his friends, I think.
‘Have you heard from Sonny today?’ he asks me, pushing his wet dark-blond hair off his face.
‘No.’ Why is he asking me?
He looks apprehensive. ‘I tried ringing him earlier, but he diverted the call and then texted to say he couldn’t speak. I thought he would’ve rung back by now. He came over last night,’ he reveals. ‘Told us he was seeing a counsellor. The woman who lives next door to you, right? Apparently you guys keep bumping into each other.’
I nod awkwardly and move out of the way of a child who is trying to get past me to the bank. ‘He said he wanted to catch up with you properly. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself by bringing it up.’
‘No, of course not,’ Archie says, dismissing my need to excuse myself.
‘Are you worried about him?’ I ask as Bertie paddles towards us, her busy feet coming to a standstill as they sink into the mud. She whines, but I’m trying to focus on what Archie is saying.
His brow furrows. ‘Yeah, a bit. He didn’t seem himself last night. What was he like on Friday night?’
So he and Matilda know we went out for drinks together. Matilda must be wonde
ring why I’ve kept so quiet about it, especially since Sonny was a topic of conversation earlier with Faith.
‘He seemed well, to be honest.’
‘Hmm,’ Archie says thoughtfully as Bertie quits whining and dolefully dredges through the mud towards the bank. She looks at me and I can tell she’s moments away from shaking river water all over us. Luckily a child distracts her by throwing the stick again and she can’t resist going after it.
Archie turns to Matilda as Bertie bounds past her, into deeper water. ‘Maybe we can have him over for dinner in the next few days? Try to be supportive?’
‘Yeah, sure,’ she replies half-heartedly.
‘He could really do with good old friends around him at the moment.’ It sounds as though he needs to convince her.
‘I know,’ she replies. ‘Yeah, of course we can invite him over.’ She turns to me. ‘Maybe Hannah can come too?’
I nod. I’m listening out for judgement in her tone, and I’m relieved that there seems to be none.
Then again, maybe I’m hearing what I want to hear.
Chapter 10
It’s Monday afternoon and I’m in the garden at the back of the cottage when Sonny pulls up in his father’s lightblue Volvo.
Archie tried calling him yesterday after his swim, but again there was no answer, so he texted to say we were heading to the pub.
I kept expecting him to turn up, but he never did.
‘Hey,’ I say warmly as he gets out of the car, my concern for him erasing any embarrassment I feared we might feel after Friday night’s conversation.
‘Hi,’ he replies faintly, closing the car door behind him.
‘You okay?’ I ask as I walk towards him.
He shrugs listlessly. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’
I stop abruptly, his dark tone catching me off guard.
‘Sorry,’ he mutters, his gaze fixing on the canoe I’ve dragged onto the grass.
‘Archie isn’t a fan of punting, I hear.’
‘No,’ he concurs.
‘Canoe paddles are a lot easier to handle than punting poles. I remembered Charles had this so I thought I’d clean it up in case we want to go out in it sometime.’
He doesn’t say anything, his expression blank. A moment later, he turns towards Evelyn’s. ‘I’d better go.’
‘Okay, see you in a bit.’
‘Yep,’ he replies, sounding bleak.
He walks away with his head hanging down.
*
I carry on working on the canoe for an hour or so, and I’m still there when Sonny finishes up. I’m doing my best not to eavesdrop on what Evelyn is saying to him, but her voice carries on the breeze. She’ll see him Friday, apparently.
He appears around the corner of the building, his blue eyes finding mine.
‘Hey.’ His lips tilt up at the corners into a small smile as he makes his way over to me.
I’m relieved to note that he seems a bit better, but I avoid asking him if he’s okay, figuring that such a question asked repeatedly might become annoying.
Instead I smile and gesticulate grandly at my handiwork.
‘That’s an improvement.’ He nods, impressed.
I’ve scrubbed off the grime and the green, beige and brown camouflage paintwork is gleaming.
‘I still need to rinse out the inside, as you can see.’ It’s a quarter full of muddy water.
I notice his eyes grazing over my lower half. I changed into my old denim shorts because my skirt was getting in the way of cleaning.
‘Bit grubby,’ I say self-consciously, futilely brushing my hands over my dirt-smeared thighs. I wouldn’t normally have my imperfect legs on show.
His expression is unreadable as he meets my eyes again.
‘How was your weekend?’ I’m fighting the urge to go inside and put my skirt back on.
He shrugs. ‘All right. I caught up with Archie and Matilda on Saturday night.’
‘They said.’
‘You’ve seen them?’
‘Yesterday, at the cricket match.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘You went to that, did you?’
‘Yeah. You were missed.’
He returns his attention to the canoe. ‘How will you get it to the river?’
‘Charles has a set of wheels, but it’s very heavy.’
‘You want some help emptying it?’
‘That’d be great,’ I reply gratefully.
As he goes around to the other side of the canoe and prepares to tip it onto its side, I turn on the hose.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got this,’ he says when I try to help him. ‘You rinse it out.’
He’s wearing a white T-shirt and the muscles on his biceps pop as he holds the heavy boat in place. He’s still on the slim side, but he looks healthier, his skin glowing with a honey-coloured tan.
‘Thank you so much,’ I say when we’ve finished.
‘Glad to be of service. My girls would love to have a turn in this.’
‘Borrow it at any time,’ I offer.
His expression darkens. ‘The trick is persuading Rochelle to let me take them out of the village.’
‘Won’t she let you go anywhere with them?’ I ask with surprise.
‘Nope. Everything is on her terms.’ He sighs. ‘I don’t really blame her. How was your weekend?’ he asks conversationally, backing up to the bench seat wrapping around the trunk of the old apple tree and sitting down.
‘Well, Saturday was a work day,’ I remind him as he pats the space next to him. I wander over and sit down. The grass beneath my bare feet is squelchy and foamy with soapsuds.
‘Were you hung-over?’ he asks.
‘No, but I’m glad you called it a night when you did. As it was, I still had to play it safe and hold my breath while dealing with clients.’
He smiles. The sunshine is filtering through the leaves, casting a patchwork of light and shade on his face. He hasn’t shaved in days.
‘I think I’ve been experiencing a bit of an alcohol low,’ he admits in a subdued voice. ‘I never really noticed before that drinking affects my mood, but then I used to drink more than I do now.’ He hesitates before asking: ‘Are you up to anything for the rest of the day?’
‘No.’
‘Want to take a run out to Gog Magog Hills with me?’
‘What do you need to go there for?’ There’s a great café and farm shop, but there are closer cafés and farm shops. In fact, Burwash Larder, which is right in Barton where he lives, is one of the best in the area.
‘I fancy a coffee and a drive. And I’m sick of bumping into people I know at Burwash. My parents live in the cul-de-sac opposite the entrance,’ he explains. ‘I’m always seeing their friends around.’
I bet he’s constantly being asked how he’s doing.
‘Okay, but let me nip inside and get changed first.’ I realise that his previously pristine white T-shirt is now smudged with dirt. ‘Sorry about your shirt. Don’t suppose you have a spare?’
‘It’s fine,’ he brushes me off. ‘At least I’ll be able to claim I’ve done something productive today,’ he adds drily.
I take Bertie inside and leave her in the kitchen. I don’t want her shedding black hair all over Sonny’s dad’s car.
The café is a twenty-minute drive away. Sonny plugs his iPhone into the stereo and sets an indie rock playlist going at top volume. We wind down our windows instead of turning on the air conditioning and opt for singing instead of talking. He seems relatively happy by the time we turn into the farm entrance. Then I point out two adorable Shetland ponies in a paddock and his mood takes a nosedive.
‘The girls would love them too,’ he mutters, sighing heavily as he cuts the engine and gets out of the car.
‘Why won’t Rochelle let you leave the village?’ I ask as we walk towards the coffee shop.
‘She doesn’t trust me. Thinks I’m useless. Doesn’t believe I’m capable of keeping them safe. I might’ve been useless in the past, but I am trying
, and I’m not going to hurt them, for God’s sake. I want to be able to go out for the day with them, maybe even have them overnight. I’d love to take them camping, but I can’t see that ever happening.’
‘She might come around. The worst thing you can do is give up.’
‘That’s what she’s expecting me to do,’ he agrees, opening the café door for me.
We order at the counter and then go outside to sit at a square table in the sunshine. Sonny takes the seat to my left so we’re side by side, facing the courtyard, rather than opposite each other. While we’re waiting for our coffees to be delivered, he picks up where he left off.
‘I was hoping to see the girls yesterday, but Rochelle cancelled in the morning.’
‘Do you know why?’
‘Told me her new boyfriend wanted a family day.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You should’ve come out with us. We would’ve cheered you up.’
‘I wasn’t in any fit state for socialising.’ He throws me an apologetic look. ‘I don’t mean to moan.’
‘You can moan to me, I don’t mind.’
‘All I seem to be doing at the moment is moaning.’
‘You’re having a bit of a tough time, but it’ll get better.’
The waitress appears with our coffees so we fall silent, thanking her as she walks away. Sonny picks up a sugar cube and drops it into his latte. He stirs it in slowly.
‘Has Rochelle had a lot of boyfriends, do you know?’
He shrugs. ‘I have no idea. When I’ve asked in the past if she’s seeing anyone, she’s made it clear that her personal life is none of my business.’
‘Hopefully this new guy will be good for her. He must be fairly decent if he wants to have a family day with the girls, don’t you think?’
‘Guess so,’ he replies unhappily.
‘Perhaps you could offer to babysit more so she can go out with him?’
He nods. ‘I suggested that on Saturday, actually. We spoke on the phone.’
‘How did she take it?’
He shrugs again. ‘Hard to tell with her. I’ll keep offering and see where it gets me.’
