It’s 5 p.m. when I finally lock up the deli, after spending three hours here, all on my own, trying to figure stuff out.
The good news is that I spoke to Eric, and it seems like we’re going to get the liquor licence we need, so that’s great, that means we can plan the opening now. The bad news is that he asked me if I had come up with a name yet – obviously they need to get the signs made – but I just don’t have anything, nothing feels right. Another week or so, tops, is all he’s giving me, and then I suppose he’ll do it himself. There are plenty of beautiful, cool, original names he could come up with, but he really wanted me to find something perfect for here specifically.
That’s the good and the bad covered – now for the ugly news, because I can think of no other way to describe it.
The first call I received was from Nathan – via my mum’s phone, obviously, telling me that his job hunt had been unsuccessful. I gently suggested to him that maybe this had something to do with his look. Well, the dishevelled hippy traveller look doesn’t really smack of a strong work ethic, does it? Employers think twice about hiring people with unwashed dreadlocks and clothing made of hemp, it’s just the way it is.
Nathan, surprisingly, was open to the idea of a haircut.
‘I’ve had some good times with these dreads,’ he said wistfully. ‘But maybe it is time for something new.’
I was taken aback.
‘Brilliant,’ I replied, because the sooner he gets a job, the sooner he can find his own place to live.
‘I could take Frankie with me, get him a trim?’ he suggested. I thought about it for a second, wondering whether or not that was a good idea. Every time he seems like he’s making an effort, I feel a sort of sympathy for him, because this situation is far from ideal, and trust is almost impossible to gain back once it is lost.
Seeing as Nathan really was trying, I said yes.
I received another call, not long after, which made me realise that Nathan taking Frankie for a haircut was the least of my worries.
I was excited when I saw that it was Alfie calling.
‘Hello,’ I said brightly.
‘Hey,’ he replied. ‘I’ve just had a run-in with your ex.’
‘Oh God, what happened?’
‘I’d walked down to the gate with Pugsley, just as Nathan and Frankie were walking past. Frankie came running over to see me with Nathan close behind him. We were just chatting when your ex pipes up, telling me I don’t deserve animals because I mistreat them. I asked him what he meant and he started banging on about dairy farms – he’s got a real bee in his bonnet about dairy farms.’
‘Alfie, I am so, so sorry,’ I said, as though that would do anything.
‘I told him “I don’t run a dairy farm, pal, I grow apples. I made cider and jam.” Even Frankie chimed in to tell him that I didn’t have any cows, before listing the animals I do have. Nathan looked a bit embarrassed, like he didn’t want to be wrong, so he started muttering about using fruit to make alcohol being unethical. When I told him that didn’t make any sense, he told me karma would see me right.’
Oh my God, he sounds like a psychopath. Obviously he doesn’t think alcohol is unethical, he just didn’t want to admit he was wrong – he’s always been stubborn.
‘Alfie, I’m sorry. Obviously he’s having problems with me and he’s taking them out on you.’
‘Is he jealous?’ he asked. ‘Of us? Because of what he saw?’
‘No, no, no,’ I insisted. ‘He’s just here for Frankie – or, more likely, somewhere to live. There’s nothing between us.’
‘You might want to make sure he realises that,’ he replied.
Furious, I finished up my work, giving myself a chance to calm down, and now I’m headed back to the cottage.
I park my car alongside his van, peeping inside to see if he’s there but he isn’t, so he must be in the house.
Before I get to the front door, Viv comes out to meet me. She stands in the doorway, hugging herself with her arms, as I walk up the path.
‘I saw your new diary sitting on the side today,’ she says. ‘I had a peep inside and saw that you hadn’t written in it.’
‘You came out here to confess to reading my empty diary?’ I laugh, but then I go cold. ‘Did you read my diary when I was younger?’
‘Of course not,’ she insists.
‘I think I’d like to remove them from your house,’ I say. ‘Just in case.’
‘Oh, OK, fine, I threw them out years ago.’
‘You threw them out?’ I squeak.
‘Yes, well, I needed the space for my romance novels, and they were full of “deforestation” this, “icecaps are melting” that – and we’re fine, the world hasn’t ended. I didn’t think you’d care.’
I’m so glad I never wrote anything truly private in them.
I laugh it off – well, does it really matter now?
‘I forgive you,’ I say, making a move for the door.
‘Erm, in the spirit of forgiveness,’ she starts. ‘Just remember, that it takes a big person to forgive, and that everything is going to be fine.’
‘If you’re talking about Nathan having a go at Alfie in the street, I already know,’ I tell her, pushing past her. ‘I don’t know why he’s being such a wa…what have you done to your hair?’
I am two steps through the door when I clap eyes on Nathan, sitting on the sofa with his feet up, watching TV, his newly shaved mohawk sitting on top of his head.
‘Do you like it?’ he asks, turning his head proudly from left to right, to try and give me a glimpse from all angles.
‘I hate it,’ I reply. ‘Looking like a hippy wasn’t getting you a job so you thought the punk rocker look might work?’
‘It’s modern and stylish,’ he insists. ‘Frankie loves his.’
‘Hilarious,’ I reply. Frankie has had wild, curly brown hair pretty much since the day he was born, except it’s grown wilder and curlier as he’s grown up. When Frankie goes to the barbers’, it’s to trim his fringe from his eyes. This isn’t something I make him do, it’s how he likes his hair. He looks completely adorable though. I slip off my jacket, making eye contact with my mum as I hang it up. There’s this look in her eyes…sadness tinged with terror, if I had to guess.
‘No,’ I blurt, suddenly not so sure Nathan is joking. ‘Frankie doesn’t have that haircut, does he?’
‘Lily, listen,’ she starts, but I’m already marching towards Frankie’s bedroom.
I open the door just as I hear my mum reminding me that ‘hair grows’ and there, sitting on the bed, colouring in a picture of a footballer, is my son, smiling up at me, with a shaved mohawk to match his dad’s.
‘Do you like my hair?’ he asks excitedly. ‘It’s just like Dad’s. And we went to the field and we played football and he says I’m really good at it. We’re gonna play again.’
I purse my lips and try not to cry.
‘I’m gonna go start dinner,’ I tell him, my voice cracking a little.
‘OK,’ he chimes.
I close his bedroom door behind me and march over to where Nathan is sitting. He’s scratching down his pants and laughing wildly at something on the TV until he realises how angry I am. He jumps up and runs over to Viv, hiding behind her.
‘Lil, what’s wrong?’ he asks.
‘Don’t you “Lil” me,’ I say angrily, trying to get around my mum. ‘And stop using my 51-year-old mother as a shield.’
‘Lily,’ she snaps angrily. ‘Don’t be shouting my age like that.’
‘Lil, please, he wanted to be just like me – and he’s so happy with it,’ Nathan insists.
I stop trying to attack him. To be honest, I doubt I would’ve done anything, even if he didn’t have his human shield for protection. My mum is right, it is just hair, even if his curly hair was impossibly cute, but I don’t know what I hate more, the fact that he has this stupid haircut or the fact that, with it, he looks just like Nathan.
‘He’ll get kicked out of school with hair like that,’ I tell Nathan, because it’s true. ‘It’s got to go.’
‘That’s one lame school,’ he replies.
I massage my temples until we’re disturbed by a knock at the door.
‘Alfie,’ Viv brightly. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘No,’ he replies, marching in. ‘I need a word with him.’
Alfie squares up to Nathan, who looks dwarfed by Alfie’s muscular frame. Nathan may be skinny and kind of short, but he’s fearless when it comes to fighting.
‘What’s the problem?’ he asks him.
‘What have you done with my dog?’ Alfie asks him.
I gasp.
‘Nathan?’
‘I haven’t done anything, Lil,’ he insists. ‘Last time I saw the dog – that you don’t deserve – was when I saw you earlier today.’
‘See, there it is, saying things like that…and suddenly, Pugsley is missing.’
‘He’s a dog, they wander off,’ Nathan says flippantly. ‘He’ll be back.’
‘It seems like you think everything just wanders off and comes back when it feels like it,’ Alfie points out. ‘But Pugsley is a good boy, he doesn’t go off on his own.’
‘I haven’t seen him,’ Nathan insists.
‘Listen, I’ll help you look,’ I tell Alfie, grabbing my keys. He dashes out the door and jumps in his car before speeding off.
‘Nathan, if you’ve touched his dog…’ I start.
‘What am I going to do with a dog?’ he replies. ‘You’re the one who eats animals.’
Ignoring him, I head out to my car and set off in the opposite direction to Alfie. He’s gone towards the school, so I head towards town.
Poor little Pugsley, I wonder where he’s wandered off to. I drive slowly and carefully, frantically looking out of both windows as I go. I see a Labrador, who looks like he’s taking himself for a walk, his leash clipped to his collar, but held in his own mouth. I crawl all the way to Main Street but there’s no sign of Pugsley. Poor Alfie must be going out of his mind, I can’t even imagine how he’s feeling. Pugsley is his only companion is that big, lonely house. I don’t know what he’d do without him.
I exhale deeply, frustrated that I haven’t been much help. I decide to drive back to Alfie’s, to regroup, but as I head back towards home I notice a Volvo 4x4 parked outside the convenience shop, with Pugsley in the back, yapping at the window. I park up and jump out, hurrying over to the car. I try the door but it’s locked.
‘Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna get you out,’ I reassure him, calling Alfie.
‘Alfie, I’ve found him,’ I say. ‘He’s in a car, outside the convenience shop.’
‘I’ll be right there,’ he says.
In a matter of minutes, Alfie is here, parking up behind the Volvo.
He pulls a puzzled face as he walks over. ‘This is Charlie’s car,’ he says.
‘Charlie’s car?’ I reply. ‘Why does she have your dog?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replies. ‘But she was at the house not long ago.’
Charlie walks out of the shop with a bag in each hand. As she spots us standing there, next to her car, the easy smile that is always plastered across her face falls.
‘Alfie,’ she says. ‘I was just coming to see you.’
‘I’ve been frantically looking for Pugsley – why do you have him?’
‘I left your place and, I don’t know, I guess he chased my car? I got here, stopped at the shop and there he was. I noticed you were a bit down in the dumps so I thought I’d come here, buy a few bits to make you dinner. I figured I’d just bring Pugsley back with me. Sorry, I should have called.’
I frown. A likely story.
‘You know how much he loves me,’ she continues, unlocking her car.
Alfie lifts Pugsley out and holds him close.
‘You gave me such a scare,’ he tells him before kissing him on the face a few times. ‘Cheers, Charlie.’
‘Oh, it was nothing,’ she insists. ‘I was on my way back to make you dinner anyway.’
‘Thanks.’ He smiles.
Ergh, she’s so obviously done this on purpose and I hate that he’s too sweet to realise. I can’t say anything though, can I? How could I prove it?
‘Well, I’ll get going,’ I say.
‘Thanks for helping,’ Alfie tells me.
I bat my hand.
‘Didn’t really do anything,’ I say. ‘See you later.’
They both say goodbye to me. As I walk towards my car I can hear Alfie excitedly asking Charlie what she’s making for dinner – it’s a surprise, apparently.
I get in my car and turn the key, only for it to fail to start. Oh, don’t do this to me now. Is that what I get for doing a good deed? My car breaks down?
Alfie puts Pugsley in his car before coming over.
‘Again?’ he says. ‘I’ll take it back to my mechanic tomorrow, this shouldn’t be happening.’
‘Thank you,’ I reply softly.
‘I can give you a lift back,’ he suggests. ‘Come on.’
As much as I’d rather walk back, I accept the lift.
‘Charlie, I need to drop Lily off on the way, her car’s knackered,’ he calls over.
‘OK,’ she replies. ‘I’ll follow you.’
Perfect dog-rescuing Charlie with her perfect surprise dinners and her perfect functioning car.
‘It’s so unlike Pugsley to run off,’ Alfie tells me as we make the short journey home. ‘He’s never been one for chasing cars either.’
I shrug my shoulders.
‘Are you OK?’ he asks me.
‘Oh, just Nathan, doing everything he can to make life difficult,’ I reply.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he replies. ‘The good news is, I’ve been thinking about some people who might be a good fit for the deli.’
He pulls up outside Apple Blossom Cottage.
‘Oh really?’ I reply.
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘We can go through them tomorrow though, you look exhausted.’
‘Thanks,’ I reply, opening the car door. ‘Well, have a good night with Charlie.’
I close the door behind me a little too quickly for Alfie’s liking. He gets out of the car too and hurries around to me.
‘You OK?’ he asks, placing his hands on my shoulders.
‘Just the usual stress,’ I say. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Charlie pulls up behind us and gets out of the car.
‘Everything OK?’ she asks.
Before anyone has chance to say anything, Nathan and Frankie emerge from Nathan’s campervan.
We all stare for a moment, at Frankie’s perfectly bald head.
‘There,’ Nathan says. ‘I fixed him. You happy now?’
Oh, I’m ecstatic!