Chapter Eighteen

‘That’s it. So, what do you think?’

Luke had parked on the deserted tarmac and was pointing over at a large warehouse undergoing beautification. Scaffolding surrounded it. Huge plate windows gleamed between poles and girders. The whole thing was contained behind a rigid chain link fence which drooped in places like a slut’s fishnets.

‘Gosh. It’s huge.’ I got out of the car, Luke hesitantly following. An enormous digger stood framed on the skyline, arrested by nightfall in the act of scooping a bucket of gravel. A mini-crane and two cement mixers hugged the shadows. ‘It’s like a Twilight Zone episode of Bob the Builder.’

‘You can’t go on site.’ Luke stopped me climbing the fence by grasping my hand. ‘Health and safety.’

‘But it’s your site. You own it.’

‘It means I get sued if you fall down a hole. Come on, we can walk round outside the fence. This is the back. Round the front is where all the cars will be parked, and where the offices will be.’

I skipped to keep up with his fast walk. ‘Why are you allowed to stay here then?’

‘Who’s going to get sued if I fall down a hole? I just have to take my chances. Besides, I know where all the holes are.’ He pointed again. ‘Over there, where the roof’s on, that’s where I’ve got my meagre bedroll, my microwave and my kettle.’

I pulled a face indicating sympathy, and went to squeeze his arm, but he’d already pulled away.

We arrived around the front of the building, which must have covered at least the floor area of a football pitch, not counting the space outside, which was hard standing for the cars. ‘Oh.’

‘What?’

‘Well.’ I indicated the sign, newly painted and erected, still with the chains attached which had been used to lift it into position. ‘Why the name?’

‘Sampsons? What’s wrong with that?’

‘I thought it’d be called after you.’

Luke laughed. ‘If I put up an enormous sign saying Fry’s, I’d be inundated with people wanting to buy chips. Sampsons is the name of the place in Boston. We decided to keep it for this one, too. Sort of a tradition, I suppose.’

‘Oh, I see.’ I shivered to myself. The night was chilly under clear skies. Although it wasn’t late, the streets were already empty of cars and this hulk of a building was atmospherically scary. I felt better for having seen it at last. Concrete proof, ha ha, of how my money was being spent. Enough proof to shut Katie and Jazz up anyway. Enough to stop them moaning on about how much investment, physical, emotional and financial, I was putting into my relationship with Luke. In reality they were just pissed off that our drinking sessions had dwindled and I hadn’t rehearsed with the band for weeks. Katie was also annoyed that I’d turned down an invitation to spend this evening at her place whilst Dan was out of town, so that I could go and stand around outside what she called ‘a garage’.

Luke put his arm around me and started leading me back towards the car. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. I told you there was nothing to see.’

‘Ah, but now I’ve seen for myself.’ I smiled up at him. He was extraordinarily good-looking tonight. A new razored haircut gave him an edge of bad-boy glamour, the stubbled I-don’t-careness mitigated by a soft blue sweater which made his eyes look purple. I hoped he’d wear blue for the wedding.

‘Your brother’s got one of those old allotments, hasn’t he?’ The Morgan roared away from the pavement and out into the curiously traffic-free street. ‘Out along Sowerby Road?’

‘Yes. He wanders down there most days with his pencil and sketchbook. Bless.’

‘Does he know that they’re up for sale as building land?’ My eyes went news-to-me wide. ‘Yeah, apparently there’s only a couple still in use, so the council’s selling them off. Worth a bit, I should think.’

‘I’ll mention it to Flint.’

‘Good idea. He might be able to drive the price up.’

‘I don’t think Flint will be bothered about that, but he might get worked up about losing his allotment.’

We’d reached my front door, and the Morgan was idling throatily. I could feel the eyes of my siblings boring through the brickwork. Upstairs, a curtain twitched. ‘Well, thanks then, Luke. See you tomorrow?’

‘Of course.’

I think Luke was a bit disconcerted by the abrupt way I pecked him on the cheek before I got out of the car, but I couldn’t bear the thought of one of our more involved kisses being witnessed. Particularly by Ash, who would then spend the next ten days criticising my technique. To mitigate any annoyance, I stood and waved until Luke was out of sight at the road junction, before I turned to put my key in the front door. It opened before I had the chance.

‘Good. Glad you’re back.’ Flint stood inside, like the father of a post-curfew teenager.

‘Why? What have I done now?’ As I stepped over the threshold, I became aware that both Bree and Ash were sitting on the living room couch.

‘You might want to sit down,’ Flint went on.

I sat beside Bree, who flashed me a completely unreadable look.

‘Right. I’ve asked the others, now I’ll ask you. Do you know anything’ – a dramatic pause – ‘about this?’

An outstretched hand proved to contain a crumpled-up ball of paper which had obviously been flattened out and screwed up again. The original ‘you can’t have everything you want’ letter.

‘Oh.’

‘Fuck.’ Ash turned to me. ‘Is it me or did it just get all Amityville Horror in here?’

I explained about receiving the letters, about how I’d been shocked and hurt at first, but since nothing seemed to come of it, and the letters had stopped arriving a few days ago, I’d decided the whole thing had been a mistake.

‘Thing is, Will,’ Flint said awkwardly, ‘the letters didn’t stop coming. I’ve had a couple. So has Ash.’

‘I picked one up this morning,’ Bree added, helpfully.

‘We all thought we were the one they were aimed at, you see.’

‘Why?’ I was suddenly prurient. ‘What have you done?’

Flint shuffled his feet. ‘Speaking for myself.’ The room hushed. Even the birds singing outside sounded as though they were listening in. ‘I can’t think of anything exactly specific, but there’s a few people with a bit of a grudge. Some of my co-workers out in China might have taken offence at the way I terminated my contract and left them with higher caseloads.’

‘Wow, crime of the century,’ Ash said dryly. ‘I can think of at least half a dozen people who’d be happy to see my bollocks on a plate. ’Sides, Flint, these were delivered in person. Surely no one’s that destroyed about you leaving that they’d follow you over?’

‘I thought,’ Bree spoke quietly, ‘that it might be from Paddy. The one I got this morning. That he might be meaning the baby. Maybe he’s decided to go for custody once it’s born.’

‘So we’ve all been picking up these letters and thinking they were meant for us?’ I started to giggle. ‘How egocentric can you get?’

‘Balance of probability though, Will.’ Ash stood up. ‘You’ve lived here while we’ve all been elsewhere. They’re gonna be aimed at you. Oh, and can you please ring Cal. Guy’s been on my case all evening, something about a goat?’

‘Why would anybody want to send you anonymous letters, Will?’ Bree asked. ‘You don’t have any enemies, do you?’

‘Could it be anything to do with this Luke guy?’ Flint looked slightly ashamed of himself for asking.

‘What do you mean? Luke wouldn’t do anything like this.’

‘I didn’t mean that he’d write the letters, but might he have some pissed off ex in the background? Or some business rival?’

‘They’d go for Luke then, surely, not me.’

‘Since they aren’t exactly threatening, I vote that we bin them as they arrive and say nothing.’ Bree shifted her weight onto her other hip. ‘It will only gratify the sender if they think that their target is getting upset.’

I left them to their discussion and took the house phone upstairs. ‘Hey, Cal.’

‘Ah. It is you, my fair, goat-moving maiden. How’re you doing?’

The wine-scent of his breath, the firm touch of his lips on mine … ‘Just a sec.’ Not even time to make the bathroom. My stomach lurched and dived without warning, as though I stood on the deck of a temperamental ship, bucking and kicking its way through a force ten. I glanced around in dismay and finally in extremis seized on my red dress, emptying the best part of an evening’s entertainment into its skirts.

‘You okay?’

Horrified, I realised that I’d been holding the telephone to my ear during the performance and that Cal had been treated to a virtuoso rendition of Retching, in E Minor.

‘Better now. It was something I ate.’

‘If you say so. Anyway, to business. Do you fancy a bit more livestock-wrangling? Winnie’s run away.’

‘Run away? She’s a frigging goat. What did she do, pack her hay net and thumb a lift to Doncaster?’

‘Goats don’t have thumbs.’ Cal’s surrealism was infectious.

‘Precisely my point.’

‘She’s up on the hill, but it’s a steep walk and I can’t do it with my stick. I mean, let’s face it, she only has to walk briskly in the other direction. So I threatened her with you.’

‘What happened?’

‘She peed on me. Well, not so much on me, more at me. From a distance. It was surprisingly effective, actually, like the Castle Howard fountain. So, would you? Tomorrow evening? I could pick you up.’

‘Tomorrow I’m out with Luke.’

‘Bring him. I’d like to meet him. If you’re serious about buying the place, that is. Once you’re married he’s going to have to know, isn’t he? So maybe you could kind of introduce the idea? Show him how lovely it is out there and, trust me, this is a good time of year to do it. You do not want to be giving him the guided tour in February, always supposing you can get down there. Lane freezes solid for months at a time and we’ve usually two foot of snow lying until March.’

‘You silver-tongued salesman, you,’ I said.

‘What, the idea of being snowed in with nothing but the sound of the wind in the hills, stoking up the Aga to keep the place warm, bottles of whisky in bed waiting for the snow plough to get through, that puts you off, does it? Then you’re not the woman I think you are.’

‘It sounds …’ I gave a little shiver, but more at the tone of his voice than the thought of snowdrifts to my waist. It might have been my imagination. In fact, it almost certainly was my imagination, but it sounded to me as though Cal was flirting, ever so slightly. I wondered if Ash had been right, if Cal really was so lonely that he fell for every woman who was nice to him. ‘It sounds wonderful, actually.’

‘Okay then. I’ll be at the place about seven. I’ll see you both down there.’ And he was gone, giving me no chance to stammer about taking Luke being a bad idea.