March
Walking back from Foxley Street, huge bunches of daffodils in her arms, Maria smiled to herself. Lily had been on top form at Love Blooms, giving her the best flowers for the shop window, laughing along with Roger, and asking about her growing baby bump. She had suddenly popped, her belly making her do that waddle thing all expectant mothers did at some point, and her ankles were often swollen after days in the shop. Add to that the fact that her appetite was that of a pro boxer, and she wanted to pee every five minutes, and she was definitely feeling pregnant these days. Happily pregnant, in fact, despite herself. Taking all of her vitamins, and no more dizzy spells, thankfully.
She had been keeping herself busy, and the shop was full of clothes. Racks and racks of clothes, and her christening gowns now hung alongside her wedding dresses. She had even started renovating upstairs. Simon, the handyman in the village, was coming most nights after helping his dad in the shop, and he had managed to separate out a small room, aside from the flat, so they could store her stock. He was doing it ridiculously cheap, not that he admitted it, and she was really grateful to him. Their families had always been kind to each other, so now she was in the process of making him some clothes to thank him. He wasn’t really the suit type, but Lynn had knitted him a few nice warm jumpers from some Aran wool, and Maria had made him some nice shirts based on the latest designer trends, minus the designer label and price tag of course. She hoped he liked them. Money was still a little tight, but after she had started stocking the baby clothes in her online shop, things had started to improve. Cassie was a bloody genius. Maria had even had a couple of bespoke orders for wedding gowns and christening gowns. She had also had the brilliant idea of offering to match wedding gown designs to christening gowns, and her online enquiry service had gone bananas. Lynn was a machine, sitting at the laptop most mornings dealing with customers, leaving her to sit in the back room and get on with the orders. Media-intrusion-free, touch wood. Her social media had gone quiet. She was still hiding, and she knew it, but since the day she had told James to leave, Lynn hadn’t tried to push her any further.
She walked slowly back to the shop, enjoying the fresh air as she left Foxley Street, turning onto Carrington Street and finally onto Wexley Street. As she turned the corner, her heart stopped, and she almost dropped the flowers. A van she recognised well was outside. Chance Electrical. Her heart thudded in her chest. Why was he here?
She couldn’t escape. Her handbag and car keys were in the shop, by her desk, and he had parked right next to her. Lily always invoiced her for the flowers, so she hadn’t needed any money. He knew she was there, or had been. Why hadn’t Lynn sent him away?
He’d left her alone since that day, but she had the feeling Lynn had been less than impressed with her behaviour. Maybe he had just come to see Lynn? They were friends too. She couldn’t stop that. It wouldn’t be fair.
She sighed and, keeping a tight hold on the flowers, walked slowly across the road.
She couldn’t see James through the window. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Maybe he had another job on the street, at one of the cottages, or the shops. She went to walk in and was startled by a voice.
‘Maria?’
Spinning around, she saw James, opening his van door and stepping out.
‘Hi,’ she said, for lack of something better to say. He looked a bit pale, a bit less than the wall of man he usually was. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, suddenly worried.
His lips twisted into a rueful smile.
‘Not bad. You?’
He looked her up and down, and she flushed, knowing she looked very different from the last time they had seen each other.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said, and her guts twisted. The baby kicked then, as if saying hello itself.
‘I doubt that, I’m getting so big.’
He looked straight at her, his blue-green eyes fixed on hers. ‘You look great. Are you both okay?’
She nodded, shifting the flowers into one arm so she could rub the spot where the baby was kicking madly.
‘Here, let me,’ he said, taking the flowers from her without giving her chance to object.
‘Thanks, the little one is kicking me like mad.’
His face lit up. ‘Aww, little Sparky!’ He put a hand out towards her belly, then dropped it back to his side. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Habit.’
Maria tried to slow her heartbeat down. She wanted to cry, hearing his nickname, seeing his happiness about the baby.
‘You had a job nearby? Is that why you’re here?’
He looked awkward for a moment, and then nodded, glancing into the shop momentarily.
‘Yeah, something like that,’ he said. ‘I’d better go actually.’
She took the flowers back from him, and their fingers brushed against each other’s. The baby went for a hat-trick in her uterus. Sure, move now, little one. You haven’t made a peep all morning.
‘Okay, well, nice to see you.’ She swallowed down the torrent of unspoken words she could feel threatening to erupt from her throat.
‘You too,’ he said, looking at her once more, just a beat too long, before getting into his van. She watched him pull away and then walked into the shop.
Lynn was sitting at her desk, tapping away on the laptop. She rose, taking the flowers from her.
‘Kettle’s on,’ she said, pushing a large plastic bag under her desk discreetly with her foot. It went unnoticed by Maria, who was trying to fight the urge to run after the van and its occupant.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘James was outside.’
‘Oh, really?’ Lynn said, busying herself with arranging the flowers into various vases.
‘Yeah,’ she said, flumping down on the sofa. ‘He had a job nearby, I think.’
‘Mmm,’ Lynn replied noncommittally. ‘Simon coming tonight to work on upstairs again?’
‘No, he’s out with Elaine tonight. He’s coming tomorrow instead.’
Lynn nodded, saying nothing further.
James drove through Westfield, looking at the people in the village going about their day. It really was lovely here. The people were friendly, vehicles were secondary to walkers, and he felt less stressed every time he came here. He thought of his home in Harrogate, a lovely family home, with no family in it. Every day he went home and sat on his own, his neighbours all having their own busy lives and families to occupy themselves with. He always felt like the odd one out on a weekend, while their children played in the street, and they washed their family cars. He was normally on the couch with a beer in his hand, contemplating going to the pub for another pint and a solo carvery dinner.
He thought back to Christmas, the dinner he had shared with Maria and her friends. He wondered what Maria would be doing this Sunday. He pulled into a side street, turning off the engine and reaching for his phone.
Dialling a number from his contacts, he braced himself.
‘Tucker?’ he said. ‘It’s James, James Chance. Listen, do you fancy a beer tonight?’
Cassie finishing dictating her letter and put down the Dictaphone. She sagged in her wingbacked office chair and looked out of the window at the view outside. She normally kept the blinds open just a crack, but lately she had felt stifled in her little office, choosing to open them wide and let the light in. She was antsy, and had been for a while, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She was on the case-closing streak of her life, billing mega hours for her firm and settling case after case, all in favour of her clients. The men of Harrogate were quaking in their designer shoes when they even heard her name, and Cassie should have been in her element. She was, for the most part, but then she had to leave work. Just the drive home to Sanctuary Cottage filled her with dread, and she was terrified Maria was going to move out when the baby was born. She’d been working on the upstairs of the shop, and Cassie knew that eventually she’d have to make a home for herself and the baby, and that was fine. She wanted Maria to be happy and God knew, after the last few months, she needed some stability.
She knew she should feel glad to be getting her home back, after months of pregnant jilted brides and injured Australians, but the thought of going back to living on her own depressed her.
She would be fine, she knew that. It wasn’t like she needed anyone else, and she would still have Maria, even when she was a new mother. Best friends for ever, that would never change. She was even looking forward to being an auntie. She was used to being on her own, and she was a master at it. The difference was that now she wouldn’t necessarily choose to be. That was the difference. The fact was, when her little cottage was full of life, so was she, and she wasn’t very happy at the prospect of going backwards.
John, one of the senior partners, knocked and she turned to greet him.
‘Hi, John,’ she said, sitting up straighter in her chair.
‘Hello, Cassie,’ he said, rather formal as always. He looked a little awkward, sheepish even.
‘Is there something I can help you with?’ she asked.
‘Er, well…’ He rubbed a nervous hand down his spotted tie. ‘There’s a delivery for you, in reception.’
Cassie gasped when she walked into the reception area. Gerald from accounts was grappling with a large floral arrangement, and Brad from the mailroom was shouting, ‘Move it left a bit, bit more!’
John placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
‘They’re trying to get it into the mailroom out of sight till we can get the florists to pick the damn thing back up.’
Cassie nodded, walking forward to inspect it more closely. Written in flowers, in a large floral arrangement akin to the ones you had for funeral cars, was written one word.
TRAMP.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘The florist is refusing to hand over the details of the sender; apparently it was anonymous, and they paid cash. God knows why they even took the damn booking. We should sue. Shall we call the police?’
Cassie shook her head. ‘No, John, it’s fine. Just another unsatisfied ex of a client. I’ll phone her now, check she’s okay. I’m pretty sure it’s him, given the wording. It’s the spitter from court, remember?’
John nodded. ‘I do, and I am sorry,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Some awful people out there.’
Cassie nodded, brushing it off and heading back to her office.
‘Comes with the job, John. Thanks.’
She waited till she got back to her office, door closed, before she allowed herself to show any emotion at all. Here, the sharks could smell blood in the water, and word soon got around.
The saddest thing was, it was the closest she’d come to a man sending her flowers in a long while.
Once she had pulled herself together, she got her mobile out and texted a number. She had to do something to improve her day. Maybe she should try making the next move.
‘So you stood her up, for me?’ James asked, shocked. ‘You didn’t have to do that, mate.’
Tucker wiped the beer froth off his lip and shrugged. ‘I’d already made our plans, and besides, I don’t have a plan for Cass yet. I don’t know how to play it.’
James frowned, taking a sip of his own lager. They were in a pub in Harrogate, one that had missed the hip trend completely and stuck with the Yorkshire ‘old man’ feel. Slightly sticky carpets, quiet atmosphere, sports on the big screen, and the most important thing of all: a decent beer. Qualities both men valued, they had found out at Christmas. They had bonded over many things, including the troublesome women in their lives.
‘What plan do you need? I got the impression you were sort of seeing her already?’
Tucker shook his head. ‘Nope, we had sex once, after a night out. I came back to her house with Maria and another lad.’
James jolted at his words, but Tucker didn’t notice, one eye on the football match on the big screen.
‘A lad, for Maria? You never said.’
Tucker nodded, not looking his way.
‘Yeah, a one-night thing.’ He seemed to realise what he had said then, wincing as he looked at James.
‘Sorry, mate, I didn’t think. It was a one-night mistake. I remember Maria being cut up about it. It wasn’t long after the wedding thing, and she wasn’t herself.’
He looked down at his pint, slapping himself on the forehead. ‘For God’s sake, don’t let on I told you. It’s kind of a big deal.’
James shook his head. ‘It’s okay, mate, it’s not my business. She seen him since?’
Tucker snorted. ‘Nope. His name is not allowed to be mentioned at Cass’s. Women, mate, I tell you.’
James nodded, trying to ignore the feeling that someone had just kicked him in the stomach.
‘What was his name, out of interest?’ Tucker looked at him, his eyes narrowing. ‘She mentioned a bloke a bit ago. I just wondered if it was the same one. Darcy?’
Tucker shook his head. ‘Her ex? Nah, mate, not him. Mark something, I think. It was just that one time, that’s it. I never really met him. We were all smashed, and he was gone in the morning.’
James nodded, relieved. The thought of her spending time with Darcy after what he’d done made him feel like punching his face again. Hard. Maria wouldn’t have wanted him to know that anyway, he guessed. He remembered her comment the day they met, something about an awkward sexual encounter. It clicked into place, and he pushed it out of his mind. He wasn’t a virgin himself. Besides, it wasn’t like they were even friends now. He had no right to the jealousy he was feeling.
‘It’s all irrelevant anyway. She’s told me to stay away. I have to just give her some space.’
Tucker nodded. ‘She’s got a lot on. Cass helps her, but she’s busy with work a lot of the time. I’m still in shock that she texted me today.’
‘Mate, I saw her at Christmas. I think she likes you. Maria hasn’t mentioned anyone else, so go for it.’
‘I want to, believe me. Even with a car door, she’s pretty special.’
James laughed and Tucker held his ribs, as though reliving the memory. ‘Did you tell her you were meeting me?’
Tucker shook his head. ‘Nah, don’t worry.’
Both men looked glumly at their pints.
‘So, they’re out there, living their lives, and we’re comparing notes here, trying to figure out how to get close, yeah?’
Tucker put his head in his hands. ‘Oh God, we’re like lovesick teenagers, aren’t we?’
James patted his mate on the shoulder, heading to the bar.
‘Yep, that’s us, dude. I’ll get the shots in.’
Tucker got his phone out of his pocket, sending Cassie a text asking her if she fancied meeting up the next night. Plan or no plan, he was going in.
He had barely had chance to dissect his text with James when a reply pinged.
You’re on, was all it said, but it was enough to make Tucker whoop loud enough to pull a still-recovering rib.