Staverton (18 page)

I wrapped my arms around myself. So much had happened last night. I didn’t really know how I felt. Dean was a creep, but I was glad the accident hadn’t been more serious.

“How are you doing?” Michael asked, his eyes soft with concern.

I wasn’t sure how to answer. “I’m okay, I guess.”

“I’ll give you my e-mail address,” he said. “You never know, maybe one day we’ll get to that exhibition.”

I smiled and pulled my mobile phone out of the pocket of my jeans. “Can you type it in there?”

He entered his e-mail address and said, “Caroline will be sorry you’re going.”

I looked at the closed bedroom door. “She’ll understand.”

He handed me back the phone and stepped closer to me, lifting his hand to my chin and tilting my head so I met his gaze.

His skin was warm against mine, and there was something in the way he looked at me, a longing in his eyes, that made me swallow nervously.

He raised his other hand and lightly ran one finger along my jawline.

Then he leaned so close I could feel his breath against my neck. His lips gently grazed my cheek, and he whispered, “Take care of yourself.”

The warmth of his touch lingered on my skin.

“You, too.”

My hands were shaking as I opened the door and slipped through into the bedroom, touching my cheek with my fingertips. My skin tingled all over.

Caroline lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She turned and looked at me when I entered. “The walls are thin.”

I flushed. “Sorry.”

“Very touching farewell scene.” Caroline said, turning to prop herself up on her elbow. “Did you come here to visit me, or did you only come because you had a crush on my brother?”

“Don’t do this now, Caroline. I have to go, and I don’t want to leave with us arguing.”

Caroline didn’t answer.

“Come on, I like Michael, sure, but you’re my friend. My best friend.”

Caroline rubbed her face and pushed her hair back. “I’m sorry. Sorry, I’m an idiot. Everything is so messed up.” Caroline climbed out of bed. “I’ll help you pack, do you have anything left at the house.”

“No, it’s all here.” I said, stuffing my clothes into my bag, not caring that they were creased. “Listen, I’m sorry to leave you like this, with all this going on.”

Caroline shrugged. “It’s all over now, anyway.”

I carried my case through to the open plan living area, and Angela walked over and air-kissed me on both cheeks. The smell of Chanel No.5 flooded over me.

Freddie blushed furiously when Angela kissed him too.

Angela, Caroline, Jake and Michael waved us off and kept waving as we rolled along the gravel driveway in Freddie’s old truck. Lawrence was nowhere to be seen. I kept my gaze fixed on the dashboard as the truck crunched over the gravel. I didn’t even look back for one last glimpse of the grand house as we left. Instead, I tried to picture Freddie’s little whitewashed cottage and how Bert would wag his tail and jump up to greet us when we got back.

Chapter 24

After arriving at Freddie’s cottage, I called Caroline straightaway to find out any news, but Caroline couldn’t tell me much except Malcolm had been formally charged for Gwen’s murder. Caroline sounded subdued on the phone, and I felt guilty. It must be hard for her to be at Staverton, to be constantly reminded of Gwen’s murder.

Freddie did his best to cheer me up and take my mind off what had happened at Staverton. He told me the best thing I could do now, was focus on my future. There was nothing I could do to help Gwen. I needed to try and put that horrible night behind me. Of course, that was easier said than done.

I waited three days before e-mailing Michael. I didn’t want to look too desperate, but I thought about it constantly, planning what I’d write.

I could use my phone to send the e-mail to Michael, which was lucky as Freddie didn’t have internet access. The idea of living without an internet connection was incomprehensible to me.

Despite, all my planning and preparation, when I sat down to type, I couldn’t get started. Even choosing an opening seemed beyond me. Did I use “Dear Michael” or just “Hello,” or even “Ciao,” seeing as Michael was off to Italy soon?

For God’s sake. Did it really matter?

I put my craziness down to the solitude. I’d been back in Scotland for three days and had seen no one but Freddie and Bert. Bess promised me some shifts at The Anchor next week, so that would at least mean a bit of social interaction. Even if most of The Anchor’s patrons were over fifty.

I typed, “Hello.” It was a start at least. I could tell Michael how bored I was, how isolated it was up here, but then he’d think I was a moaning bore. I could ask after his family, but I didn’t want to mention Gwen. I wanted to stop thinking about her.

Hello Michael,

How are you? And your family?

Everything is great here, although I’ve only been here for three days and it feels like forever (no TV, no computer, no people!). I’ve decided to do some more shifts at The Anchor. Bess is lovely. She puts up with me putting the glasses on the wrong shelves, and even occasionally throwing drinks over customers, so she isn’t a hard task master.

Do you remember when I told you about Bess? That I thought she and Freddie might have a thing going on?

Well, I’m convinced there is something between them. Not that they’ll admit it. I think I might have to do a bit of matchmaking this summer. Unless, of course, they are already carrying on in secret. Perhaps they think I’m a prude, and I won’t approve!

I hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday, especially Italy (yes, I am jealous!), and you never know, perhaps one day we will get to go to an art exhibition together.

Love Lucy

I pressed the send button and told myself I wouldn’t check my e-mails until tomorrow. I wouldn’t be one of those desperate women who had to check every five minutes.

Ten minutes later, I caved in and checked my e-mail. Nothing. I looked across the room at Bert. “Right, Bert. We better get out of here and go for a walk before I go crazy.”

I checked my e-mail later that night. I’d curled up in bed, proud of myself for resisting the temptation to check earlier. All through dinner, I kept glancing over at my phone, so much that even Freddie noticed and asked if I was expecting a call. But that wasn’t the point. The point was I hadn’t checked.

I had two e-mails. One was from a supermarket home delivery service – as if they would deliver out here. And the other was from Michael. I clicked it open.

Lucy,

Greetings from Italy! I decided to come out here early, and I’m glad I did. It’s amazing. Great food, great wine, and the art is out of this world. You’d love it.

Glad to hear you’re enjoying Scotland, even if it is a bit quiet. Not long and you’ll be at university, then your social life will improve.

And, yes, one day we’ll get to that exhibition.

Michael

I read the e-mail three times. He replied quickly. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Okay, so he didn’t sign off with love, but he was a guy, what did I expect? I pushed the duvet back, sat up and typed out a reply, with the words “one day” whirling around in my mind.

As the summer passed, I continued to send e-mails to Michael, and usually he replied. I wrote about my job at The Anchor, drawing caricatures of the customers, exaggerating and trying to make my life sound fun and more interesting than it really was.

When he replied, Michael’s e-mails were full of descriptions of the sights and sounds in Rome and Venice, and to me, they were incredibly romantic. At least they were until he mentioned Sylvia.

Sylvia, an amazing Italian girl, who it seemed was able to sing soprano, speak five languages and paint incredible watercolours. Probably all while standing on her head.

I didn’t reply for two days after he mentioned Sylvia.

In the end though, I thought it was a bit pathetic to ignore him. He hadn’t promised me anything. We were friends. And there was always the chance that one day... Well, there was no harm in dreaming.

Chapter 25

I didn’t often get out of bed before Freddie, but on the twenty-sixth of August I was up, dressed and staring out of the kitchen window before Freddie had woken up.

I glanced at my watch. It wasn’t even seven yet. I heard Freddie’s bedroom door open, then the bathroom door, then the blast of the shower. I moved across to put the coffee on.

Outside it was grey and dreary. It had rained the night before, and the grey, swollen clouds promised more to come. The track leading up to the cottage was thick with mud, and I worried the postman’s van might not make it up the hill.

When Freddie wandered through to the kitchen, in his dressing gown, with a towel around his shoulders, he did a double take.

“What are you doing up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Coffee’s on the side.”

“Thanks.” Freddie poured the fresh coffee into his mug and breathed in the steam. “What time’s your shift at The Anchor?”

“The usual, I start at eleven.”

“No double shift, today?”

“Not today.” I looked past Freddie, out of the window, down the track.

Freddie turned. “So that’s why you’re up so early. You’re waiting on the post.”

“It’s too early yet, but I thought the van might have a bit of trouble getting up the hill.”

Freddie set down his coffee. “Roger, has delivered our post for years, in much worse weather than today. Stop worrying.”

Easy for him to say. I sighed and carried my coffee across to the table and sat down.

“I’m making porridge, you want anything?”

I shook my head. “Couldn’t eat anything. Too nervous.”

“You’ll be fine.”

An hour later, Freddie put on his raincoat and opened the front door. In the distance, a rumble of an engine sounded.

I threw down the magazine I had been flicking through and joined Freddie at the door, craning my neck to see down the track. “Is it the postman?”

We both waited by the door until we saw the top of the red van heading towards us. Freddie grinned, “Looks like he made it up the hill.”

I bit my lip and waited by the front door as Freddie put on his boots, then strolled out to meet Roger.

They stood there chatting. For ages. What on earth could they be talking about for so long? Maybe I should put my shoes on and go and get it myself. I could see the mail in Freddie’s hand, one large envelope and two or three smaller ones.

“Come on,” I muttered. “Get a move on.”

Bert wandered across to see what the fuss was about. He stuck his head out of the door, looked up at me, then seeing nothing interesting, walked back to his spot on the rug and curled up.

Finally Roger was leaving. He waved to me, and I waved back. Freddie stood there waiting for Roger to turn the van around, then he walked back to the house, grinning. “There’s one here for you,” he said and handed me a large brown envelope.

I took it and went to sit down at the table. I placed the envelope in front of me, running my fingers along the seal but not opening it. I’d been waiting all morning, but now it was here in front of me, I was terrified to open it.

“Come on then. Don’t keep me in suspense,” Freddie said, pulling up a chair.

I pulled back the seal, ripped open the envelope and pulled out numerous thin sheets of paper. I read them then looked up and grinned at Freddie.

“I got the grades.”

Freddie gave a whoop of delight and leaned over to hug me. “Brilliant, well done. My little brain box. I’ll give Bess a ring when I get to work and let her know.”

“I’ll phone Caroline to find out how she did,” I said, but in my eagerness to stand up, I knocked my coffee over. I whisked the exam reports away just in time, then rushed to the sink for a cloth.

The phone rang.

“That’s probably Caroline, phoning to compare results. Can you get it?” I asked, mopping up the puddle of coffee.

Freddie picked up the phone.

I was so intent on clearing up the mess, my mind buzzing with excitement, I didn’t notice Freddie had grown quiet. I looked up.

“No comment,” he shouted at the receiver, then hung up.

I stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

“Reporter, wanting a comment from you on Gwen’s death.”

“Oh.” I sat back down.

“Vultures. Ignore them, they’ll soon get bored. Now, get on the phone to your friends, and enjoy the day, you worked hard for it. We’ll have a special dinner tonight, to celebrate, okay?”

I nodded and walked over to the telephone.

“I better get to work,” Freddie said. “Will you be all right?”

“Of course. I’ll be fine.”

“Well if there are any more calls, unplug it if you like. See you later, Miss Brain of Britain,” Freddie said and grinned.

I watched him walk down the path, towards the garage, and heard him whistling. I kept my smile fixed in place until I closed the door, then the smile slid from my face.

Chapter 26

Three weeks later Caroline and I stood in my bedroom in the halls of residence at St. Andrews.

“I can’t believe we are finally here,” I said through a mouthful of pins as I tried to fix an abstract print to the wall.

Caroline reached over to hold up a corner of the print that kept drooping down. “Freedom. No Mrs. Hawksley keeping her beady eyes on us. It’s going to be a blast.”

“When’s your first lecture?”

“Lecture? Oh, I don’t know. Haven’t looked at my timetable yet. But I think we should go and explore. I’ve heard there’s a bar here. It should be open by now,” Caroline said. “We can do some talent spotting.”

I took a step back from the print. It was a little crooked, but it would do. It covered a fair amount of the grey wall.

“First we should do the bun fight,” I said. “It’s on now. We can sign up for a few clubs and societies.”

“Societies?” Caroline pulled a face. “No way, that’s so sad.”

“I want to join the art society.” I could see I wasn’t going to be able to persuade Caroline on this one. “Okay, look, I want to go, so I’ll go for an hour or so, then meet you in the bar. How’s that?”