Joel
She burst from the doctor’s surgery, like a greyhound from a trap, slamming straight into me.
‘Woo there, what’s the rush?’ I say, before realising that it wasn’t a young scoundrel inconsiderately dashing into unsuspecting passers-by.
‘Sorry. I… hello again,’ she smiles, her green eyes included in the warm greeting. ‘I was in a world of my own.’
I instantly change tack, grateful that I’d gone against medical advice and removed the stupid looking surgical tape from my nose, despite the remaining bruising having gained a tinge of green. I can only look a prat for so long.
‘Never mind, no harm done.’
‘No more broken noses,’ she laughs, instantly blushing. ‘Sorry, that slipped out.’
‘Fair play, I can laugh about it too, you know.’
Her blush deepens to crimson.
Idiot! She was being light hearted and you’ve switched it to a reprimand.
‘What’s the rush?’ I say, quickly changing the subject.
It took her all of a minute to explain about the newspaper records and the lack of information and another minute to explain her conversation with Doc Fowler.
‘How about coffee beforehand?’ I ask nonchalantly, trying to erase my earlier sternness.
‘That would be nice.’
I ditch the idea of a haircut; I’ll go another day.
‘The best coffee is at The Corner Café, this way,’ I say heading towards The Square.
She falls in step alongside me, tottering on her high heels – a good job the deep snow has finally subsided into dry, bright but chilly days.
‘The librarian’s right it might be the tiniest remark that has lingered as a suspicion which unlocks the whole mystery… it’s worth a go.’
I didn’t answer, but continue to stare straight ahead.
‘Don’t you agree?’
‘Not quite, with such a privileged position in the village… he’s sworn to secrecy. I couldn’t blab about details of my police work.’
Flora stops dead in her tracks.
I look back having walked on.
‘Seriously, even in such circumstances? An abandoned baby – surely that’s a criminal act… is it not child abuse? Neglect?’
I shrug.
I hate the look of disappointment that furrows her brow before she catches up and we walk on.
‘You don’t want hearsay and gossip regards suspicious details. We waste no end of time following up on false leads due to people’s idea of acting suspiciously. You want cold hard facts – that’s how you’ll get your answers. I’ll be surprised if the doctor tells you anything you don’t already know, he can’t divulge private and personal information.’
‘I’m prepared to give it a go,’ she says, adding. ‘There may be personal information about himself that he needs to divulge.’
‘Such as?’
‘You never know… doctors have secrets too.’
‘I doubt if Doc Fowler has any secrets – not with old Hinge and Bracket watching him like a hawk from the reception desk,’ I laugh. ‘Did she slam the reception window on you?’
‘Yeah!’ she giggles.
‘Wow, you’re almost a local.’
‘That’s my problem, I almost am!’
Our laughter dies as we approach the emerald awnings of the café, I crane my neck to see over the lace curtain and establish how busy they are: packed.
‘It’s not too cold for a table outside, is it?’ noting the flimsy jacket that she was wearing.
‘That’s fine.’
It wasn’t quite so fine with me, it was the last place I wished to be perched, slap bang opposite the estate agents.
‘This was my shout, so I’ll pay. What are you having?’
I ignore my inner voice that suggests we go two minutes up the road to the other café, slightly pokey but still serving hot coffee and where we’ll definitely get a table inside.
‘Hot chocolate, please.’
Flora drags a couple of chairs to the nearest chrome table, I disappear inside.
A sea of green and white gingham covers The Corner Café: table cloths, plastic menu covers and Alexandro’s serving pinny all co-ordinate.
The second I enter; I want to leave. I recognise the back of her head in an instant, as she turns I try to duck out of sight.
‘Joel! What a nice surprise… and with such fetching bruising,’ says Veronica.
‘Veronica, good to see you.’ I notice the curl of her lip.
‘Day off?’
‘On the sick due to my injuries.’ I point to my face purely to reinforce the details.
‘Full pay? That’s good, it ensures you can cope financially.’
I smile. Is she trying to start an argument?
‘Cope? I’m coping just fine thanks… which reminds me, can I ask what the delay is regarding you signing over the flat?’
She squirms as I ask for the umpteenth time, her harsh lip-lined mouth twitches and tweaks but nothing audible emerges.
‘I thought I’d crossed all the ‘T’s and dotted all those ‘I’s and yet still you remain… unsigned,’ I say, adding. ‘I can’t think why?’
‘Joel, you simply don’t understand the property market.’
‘Correction. I understand the property market very well thanks to you and your expert tuition. I have a sneaking suspicion that you may be watching the market and hoping for an extra slice of the pie should the market value increase…’ I allow my sentence to fade.
‘Are you seriously implying that?’
The rotund figure of Alexandro offers a welcoming distraction at the counter. I quickly side step my ex-girlfriend ignoring her flimsy plea of innocence as she clutches her skinny latte with extra sprinkles.
‘Yes, two hot chocolates, please.’
‘I don’t want a hot chocolate!’ squeals Veronica, holding up her cartoned drink.
‘Hold your horses – it’s not for you!’ I retort, amused that she’d even entertain the idea.
The steam shot through the jug of milk much like the surprise on Veronica’s face.
‘Well who?’
I smile, and dig into my pockets for change.
‘Who?’ she repeats impatiently.
‘Sorry?’
‘I said… I asked… who?’
Her manner becomes snippy as her power slips away, much like mine had in our relationship.
I’ll admit I was flattered at the beginning, an attractive woman taking an interest in me. Her age didn’t come into it. I soon realised that maybe the compliment was reversed and it should be her flattered by a man twelve years her junior taking an interest. That is until she discovered that sugar-daddies flatter her more financially.
‘I said… and I know you heard me correctly… who?’
‘A friend,’ I say, turning my attention to Alexandro who has produced two perfect hot chocolates complete with whipped cream and marshmallows.
‘Thank you, put the change in the charity box,’ I add, taking my leave. As I walk to the exit carrying the drinks tray, I’m aware of the totter of heels following my strides.
What now?
Once outside I slide the tray in front of Flora and settle opposite.
‘Well, I never,’ jibes Veronica. ‘Little orphan Bede?’
‘Hello,’ beams Flora, not sensing the tension.
‘Flora, meet Veronica…’
‘Nice to meet you again… we met at the ladies’ night.’
My eyebrows lift in surprise.
‘Veronica, you actually went to The Peacock – you always said it was a dive of a pub. Did you enjoy yourself at ladies’ night?’
‘Give it a bloody rest, won’t you!’ snaps Veronica, before stomping across the road towards the estate agents.
‘What’s rattled her cage?’ asks Flora, as I unload the tray of drinks.
‘Long story…’
Flora nods and politely smiles – the penny drops.
Had I found her attractive? Was it my own insecurities that had drawn me towards her flattery and attention? I was never a Casanova where the ladies were concerned but I’d had my share of girlfriends.
‘Anyway, less of Veronica… let’s focus on your search.’
We spend the next thirty minutes sipping and chatting about her quest.
Flora’s so animated; her hands wave about as she discusses the people she’s met. Her eyes sparkle as the excitement overflows like a child at Christmas.
‘Had you given much thought to your father being found?’ I ask, cradling my half-spent drink.
The look of surprise was clear.
‘I hadn’t given him much thought… until today. There’s got to be a reason why I was left on Dr Fowler’s doorstep. What happens if he knows but has never said?’
I don’t know what to say to her.
‘Joel?’
‘There will be a reason but you’re not going to confront him, are you?’
‘No, but it’s a possibility.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Maybe?’
‘There’s a fair chance that whoever your father is… he might not know about a pregnancy.’
I watch as she pauses, sips her drink and turns away.
‘You have to cover all angles – as painful as that could be. There might be many reasons why she did what she did.’
‘Perhaps… but maybe the doctor will enlighten me on one.’
‘Anything is a possibility at this stage, don’t rule anything out until proven… that’s how we work on an investigation – anything is feasible within a given set of circumstances.’
*