Chapter 30
The first thing I felt when I woke was pain, searing through my jaw and into my brain. My head was aching like I’d downed ten pints and gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime.
I checked my phone and groaned. 12.30pm. I’d slept half the day away.
There were strange images floating around my brain. Memories… dreams? The only things I could see clearly were a bat and a pissed-off snowman.
That and Stewart. Had he been in my room? Or was that a dream, too?
I swung myself out of bed, massaging my swollen jaw with one hand, and staggered through the door.
There was a man’s coat hanging in the hallway when I passed. Cameron must’ve stayed over.
‘Morning,’ I said to Tom, who was watching football in the living room. I yawned, then clutched my jaw. ‘Fuckcakes, that hurts!’
‘If you’re inventing new ways to swear then I’m guessing your drugs have worn off.’
‘Feel like I’ve been kicked in the head by a pre-menstrual rhino. What happened yesterday?’
‘Don’t you remember?’
‘I remember… a talking snowman.’
He grinned. ‘Yeah, you spent the afternoon tripping off your tits.’
‘Didn’t do anything embarrassing, did I?’
‘God, yes,’ he said. ‘It was comedy gold. Next time you have dental surgery it’s going straight on YouTube.’
‘If it does you’re dead. Where’s Cam, still in bed?’
‘No, he’s at work.’
‘Oh. Yeah, forgot it was afternoon. Does he know he left his coat?’
Tom shook his head. ‘Not his.’
‘Whose is it then?’
‘Mine,’ Stewart said, poking his head round the door of the kitchenette. ‘Afternoon, drugface. You want coffee? Kettle’s just boiled.’
I glared at him. ‘What’re you doing here?’
‘Thought I’d use my lunch break to pop over and see how you were feeling,’ he said, coming into the living room.
‘We’ve been watching the footie while we waited for you to wake up,’ Tom told me with guilty smile.
I shook my head. ‘If you two’re boy-bonding I’m doomed. What do you want, Stew?’
‘Just to see if you’re feeling better. You were in a real state yesterday afternoon.’
I groaned. ‘Then you were here.’
‘Yep. You came to see me in your pyjamas and I helped you to bed, it was all very sexy.’ He turned to Tom. ‘Can you give us a minute, mate? Me and your sister need to have some words.’
‘If Lana’s ok with it,’ he said, glancing at me.
‘S’pose,’ I muttered. I had a vague idea I was supposed to be annoyed with Stew about something but it’d disappeared in the fog of pain and drugs.
Oh yeah, the bike racks, that was it. Going behind the backs of the committee, getting us yet more bad press. But being annoyed with Stew felt like hard work today, for some reason.
‘I’ll pop downstairs then,’ Tom said. ‘Update the specials board or something.’ He flashed an anxious look back at us as he pushed open the door.
Stewart took a seat in the armchair and Flash, the treacherous hellhound, slithered out of his bed to weave himself round the warmth of Stew’s calves.
‘So, what words do you think we need to have?’ I asked.
‘Well, there’s an apology coming. And I need to tell you some news.’
‘News?’ I said, instantly alert. I’d learnt to dread that word over the last few months. ‘You haven’t heard from the council? Ow!’ I clutched at my jaw. The sudden panic was making my gums vibrate.
‘Calm down, it’s nothing bad. Look, can I do my apology first?’
‘If you must. What’re you apologising for today?’
He looked at me keenly. ‘Don’t you remember any of yesterday?’
‘Not really, no.’
He lapsed into thoughtful silence for a moment.
‘I’m sorry about the bike racks,’ he said at last. ‘You’re right, I should’ve run it past the committee. Wanted to surprise you, that’s all. I genuinely thought you’d think it was funny.’
‘Hmm. Ok.’
‘It never occurred to me it was all grist to the mill for Sienna Edge. I’m sorry, Lana.’
‘Suppose you weren’t to know,’ I said, relenting at last. It was hard to stay mad at him with that earnest, pleading look in his eyes. ‘It’s the council’s reaction that worries me. You know how they are about anything that could reflect badly on them.’
Stewart smiled. ‘Then I should probably tell you my news.’
‘Go on,’ I said, frowning.
‘Only if you promise not to have a go at me about doing things behind your back. I caused this and I wanted to sort it.’
‘Sort it how?’
‘Look, I know you like to keep Andy all to yourself, but I gave him a ring this morning to tell him what’d happened,’ he said. ‘I thought it’d be better coming from us. Anyway, he didn’t seem to think it was a problem. We had a good laugh about it.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I don’t think the council are as prudish as we thought. We got ourselves all worked up over nothing.’
I flushed. ‘You mean I did.’
‘Well. The viaduct project’s your baby, isn’t it? Of course you’re protective of it,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I was just as bad. I was scared stiff I might’ve jeopardised the whole thing.’
His expression was serious, but there was an amused glint in his eye. What wasn’t he telling me?
‘Ok, what?’ I said, my mouth twitching with a smile. ‘Out with it.’
‘Nothing,’ he said, casting his eyes to the ceiling.
‘I know you, Stewart. Come on, what else?’
He nodded to the window. ‘See for yourself.’
I stood up, massaging my jaw as another spasm shot through it, and twitched open the curtains.
There was a little gaggle of teenagers clustered around Stewart’s bike racks, giggling as they took photos of each other posing with the bums. One lad was laid across a pair of buttocks, pouting provocatively as his snickering girlfriend took a pic on her phone, while another crouched in a position that made it look like the huge backside was his own.
‘We’ve gone viral,’ Stew said. ‘There’s a whole Facebook group set up for fans of what they’re calling The Arses of Egglethwaite. People’ve been coming from all over to take pictures with them.’
‘Bloody hell! They’ve only been there a week.’
‘Yep, and already a landmark. The best thing is, I put up a donations box next to them for the viaduct. We’ve made nearly a hundred quid.’
I fixed him with an impressed gaze. ‘In a week? That’s amazing!’
‘Isn’t it? It’s been bringing in a good bit of business for the shop, too. Hope you don’t mind, but I pinched a few of your Flagons business cards to put on the counter. Thought it might get you some knock-on trade.’
‘Did you?’ I said, blinking. ‘Thanks, Stew. That was a nice thought.’ I laughed. ‘Sienna’ll just love the fact she’s boosted trade for us, won’t she?’
‘So am I properly forgiven this time?’
‘You’re forgiven. I’m sorry. Overreacted, didn’t I?’
‘No, you were right. It was reckless and I should’ve thought it through.’ His eyes darted over my face. ‘You mean it this time? Because I actually came over to offer to resign. If you wanted me to.’
‘Resign from the cycling group? Why?’
‘You seemed so pissed off with me the other day in the restaurant. I can’t be in meetings if you don’t want me there, Lana.’
‘I do want you there.’ I flushed. ‘I mean, we all do. You’re the cycling expert, aren’t you? Can’t do without you.’
‘Hoped you’d say that.’ He stood up. ‘Right, I’d better get back to the shop. See you later, kid.’
And he was gone, leaving me as confused as ever. That did seem to be the lingering aftertaste of a chat with Stewart McLean.
‘Well, we made friends again,’ I told Tom when he came back up. ‘Sort of.’
‘What, you’ve forgiven him?’
‘For the bike rack thing, yeah.’
‘And the not calling you thing?’
‘Not that. Not yet.’ I massaged my jaw again. ‘Be a while before that one stops hurting.’
‘Hmm.’
I turned to glare at him. ‘Why’re you always saying “hmm”? If you’ve got something to say, just come on out with it.’
‘You sure you want to hear it?’
‘I’m a big girl, I can take it. Jesus!’ I grabbed my jaw as another spasm shot through it. ‘Go on, tell me while I’m in pain. Might make it easier to digest.’
‘Well, I’ve got this theory.’ He paused. ‘You sure you want to hear?’
‘Oh for God’s sake, get on with it.’
‘All right. I reckon Stew’s in love with you.’
I frowned. ‘Have you been talking to Deano?’
‘No, why?’
‘He said… only…’ I shook my head. ‘Never mind. You’re both wrong.’
‘I don’t think so.’ He started counting on his fingers. ‘He’s been coming into the restaurant more and more. He’s always staring at your boobs. He flirts like mad with you. Looks after you when you’re on drugs.’
‘That’s just fancying someone though.’
‘Yeah. It’s the looks he gives you that were the clincher.’
‘What looks?’
‘The soft ones with the love-light in his eyes. The ones that seem to say “Ooooh, Lana, hold me close against your ginormous bosoms and whisper sweet nothings to me for ever and ever”.’
I shook my head. ‘You watch too many films.’
‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘He does look all soppy at you. Plus he calls you “kid”.’
‘I know, patronising git.’
‘He only does it sometimes though. When he’s worried about you, like he feels protective. And he touches you inappropriately.’
‘He does not!’
‘All right, he touches you appropriately then. Patting your hand and stuff. When you mention Dad, mostly.’
I blinked. ‘You noticed all that? I didn’t.’
‘No, well you’re as bad.’ He sighed. ‘You know, I can’t help liking him. Wish it was all straightforward for you, sis.’
‘Me too.’ My brow lowered. ‘But it isn’t, is it?’
‘Did he tell you why he did it?’
‘He told me he was depressed after his accident. Couldn’t face the world.’
‘And you’re not happy with that.’
‘That I can understand. It’s the fact he left it a whole bloody year. A year, and not a word.’ I scowled. ‘And then he just turns up out of the blue, grinning obliviously like it’d meant nothing, asking if we can be friends… ugh.’
‘Why did he do that?’
‘God knows.’ A single tear slid down my cheek. ‘Wish I could just hate him, Tommy,’ I whispered.
He guided my head to his shoulder. ‘Hard work, these relationship things, eh?’
‘They make my jaw hurt.’ I snuffled wet eyes on his t-shirt. ‘How’d it go talking to Cam?’
‘Well, I’m meeting the parents now,’ he said with a grimace. ‘He sulked me into it in the end.’
‘Did you tell him what you were scared of?’
‘Not sure I got my point across too well.’ He clicked his tongue and Flash went bounding up for a stroke. ‘I thought I’d said absolutely no way to the parent thing, but apparently I agreed unreservedly. So he tells me anyway.’
‘When is it?’
He groaned. ‘Next month, week after The Boneshaker. Hey, reckon your dentist’d sell me some drugs? If Cam’s parents were animated snowmen I bet they’d be a lot easier to handle.’