The Difference a Day Makes (16 page)

The boy nodded again as he rubbed the stones, his smile slowly returning.

‘Take them like this.’ Guy showed him how to angle the stones in his hand. ‘Stay low.’ They both crouched down. ‘Then let fly!’

The stone sailed from Tom’s hand and bounced once, twice, three times across the tarn.

The boy turned to him with a big grin on his face which Guy was relieved to see. ‘Top stone-skimmer!’ Guy said and they high-fived each other.

They entertained themselves happily for the next half-hour, Jessica even deigning to have a couple of goes, even though it was a boy’s thing. Then they walked round the tarn, Hamish blazing the trail.

‘That was fun,’ Tom said.

‘Bet your dad saw you doing that.’

‘Think so?’

‘Yeah. I’m sure.’

Tom grinned again. Jessica came alongside him and quietly slipped her tiny hand in his. Suddenly, Guy could see the attractions of family life. He’d been so convinced that he’d wanted to stay a bachelor after losing Laura. It hadn’t taken much for these children to find the chink in his armour. Guy smiled to himself. Life on your own wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He was sure that Amy was finding that.

He looked down at Tom and Jessica. It had been a surprise how much fun they’d had together. Amy might not consider another relationship for years and he couldn’t blame her for that - so he would be mad to get his hopes up there. But, out of the blue, he was beginning to think that a life that included a couple of kids and a mad-ass dog might not be so bad after all.

‘Hungry?’ he asked.The kids both nodded as they headed back to the car. So far, it had been a perfect morning. Except that it was clearly too good to last. As he opened the box of goodies that he’d stashed in the boot, Guy could see that someone else had been there before him.

‘Hamish!’The dog was slinking away across the car park, belly low to the ground.

All that was left of the snack bars was some half-chewed foil wrappers.

‘Oh, well,’ Guy sighed. ‘Looks like we’ll have to go back to Poppy’s for some hot chocolate and chocolate chip muffins.’

By the way the children cheered, that would go down far better than the healthy option. At least he’d tried.

‘Hamish,’ Guy shouted. ‘Get back here now!’ And, amazingly, the dog bounded over and jumped straight into the passenger seat.

He was a natural at this, Guy thought proudly. Two angelic children and a near-angelic dog. Why hadn’t he tried it before?

 

 

 

I
’m sitting in the reception of the British Television Company by eleven o’clock after an uneventful train journey. I couldn’t believe how busy the Tube seemed to be this morning. Perhaps I’ve just got out of practice over the last few months, but I really struggled to cope with all those people squashed in a small space and I couldn’t help but think of the journey I’d taken with Will when he’d first had his wobble. I kept getting horrible flashbacks and I was glad to get off.

It seems strange that I have to be escorted to my old office now that my security pass is long gone. Frankly, I can’t wait to get back into the fray here. Say goodbye to chickens and hello to celebrities once more. Bye-bye wellies, hello Jimmy Choos. One wall is covered with a bank of enormous LCD televisions screening a wide variety of the station’s output. Last night’s episode of
Sports Quiz
is among them and I hum along to the familiar theme tune, a pang of longing twisting my insides. I can feel the adrenaline pumping in my veins just being here. Just let me get back behind my desk doing what I do best. This would really help me so much. I’m sure that Will would want me to do this too. He’d know that this was right for me.

Gavin Morrison, my old boss, keeps me waiting for half an hour - which I’m not particularly happy about. I know about the pressures of work and all that, but I’ve got a schedule to stick to as well. I need to be back on the six o’clock train out of King’s Cross station to have any hope of getting home tonight.

Eventually, Gavin’s perky assistant appears and escorts me through the security checks and into the building. In his office, Gavin greets me warmly with a hug and an air kiss. I sit down in the chair opposite him.

He rubs his hands together. ‘Tea, coffee?’

‘A coffee would be great.’ Gavin nods at his assistant and, efficiently, she disappears to do her duty.

‘It feels good to be back here.’

‘Good, good,’ he says, leaning back in his executive chair.

I fiddle nervously with my hands and try not to.

‘We were all sorry - deeply sorry - to hear about William.’ He shakes his head. ‘Deeply sorry.’

Not sorry enough to get your arse to Yorkshire to support me at the funeral, I think, but instead, I say, ‘Thanks. Thanks so much.’

‘I expect life will be different from now on,’ he says.

‘Yes.’ I blow out a shaky breath. ‘Very different. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’

Gavin makes a steeple of his hands and raises his eyebrows.

‘I’ll be coming back to London now. Selling up. The house is already on the market and we should have no trouble finding a buyer. I could be back by the beginning of the New Year if everything works out well.’ I think that’s extremely optimistic, but Gavin doesn’t need to know that.

‘What happened to the country dream? The idyllic life?’ Is there a scathing note in his voice?

‘I need to be near my family,’ I say, ignoring it. ‘The house is wonderful, but too big for me to manage alone.’

Gavin purses his lips, but says nothing.

‘I was hoping that I could come back. I know that Jocelyn’s doing my old job now . . .’

‘And doing it brilliantly,’ Gavin chips in.

Wonderful. ‘But if there’s anything else? I recall that you had some new arts programmes in the pipeline . . .’

‘Things have changed since you left,’ my old boss says.

‘It’s only been a few short months. I’m still as sharp as ever. I’ve missed the cut and thrust. I want to get back to it as soon as possible.’

‘There have been swingeing cutbacks, Amy. You must know that. Don’t you read the newspapers?’

Frankly, I haven’t been near one in months.‘Yes, yes. Of course.’

‘Even
Sports Quiz
isn’t safe.’

‘But it’s been running for years! The viewing figures are consistently high.’

‘We’ve got a new channel controller and he’s a ruthless bastard. He’s sweeping his new broom into every little nook and cranny. There’s a block on all recruitment. Everyone’s feeling the pinch. We’ve got to shed three thousand jobs.’ Gavin spreads his hands. ‘Three thousand!’

‘Yes, gosh,’ I say, my heart pounding erratically. He’s not going to offer me a job. There’s nothing here for me. I hadn’t expected that at all. It feels like the bottom is dropping out of my world all over again. I’ve given this company years of loyal service. I’ve sacrificed all kinds of things for my career. When Will was in hospital after his wobble, I didn’t miss a day. I wonder now if that’s something to be proud of. ‘That’s terrible.’

Gavin stands and I realise that he wants to usher me to the door. I haven’t even had my coffee yet. A four-hour journey to get here and he isn’t even being civil enough to wait until I’ve had a drink! I stand up because I don’t know what else to do, how to stall him, how to make him see that he must change his mind.

‘I’d love to employ you again, help you come back to London. But it’s not going to happen, Amy.’ He shakes his head, acting the best regret I’ve ever seen. With a performance like that he should be in front of the cameras, not behind them. ‘Even in the short time you’ve been away, things have moved on.’

‘Yes, yes,’ I manage to say. ‘I can see.’

‘Shame you didn’t wait for a while.’ Gavin gives a humourless laugh. ‘You might have got yourself a decent-sized redundancy package.’

Minutes later and I’m back on the pavement outside Television House. I’m stunned. Foolishly, I thought that they’d take me back with open arms. I thought I was a valued employee. And all the time, I was just another number on a page. At the grand old age of thirty-eight, I’m not only a widow, but I’m now on the scrapheap of life.You don’t know how worthless that makes me feel.

 

 

 

A
fter chocolate-based refreshments at Poppy’s, Guy piled Tom, Jessica and Hamish back into the car again. Now the children had overcome their initial shyness and were chatting away with him as if they’d known him for years.

He steered the Range Rover out of Scarsby and into the countryside once more. They were going to visit Marty and Gill Bainbridge who had been clients of his since he’d started at the practice. Marty was one of the new slew of television gardeners, a larger-than-life character who had moved to this area five years ago and had been an incomer at the same time as Guy, so there had been a natural bond between them. Marty and Gillian had bought up old Radley’s Farm, a twenty-five-acre spread that was kept like a show farm, mainly because every now and again television cameras turned up and filmed pieces of Marty doing farmery-type things on his land for his prime-time programme on ITV.

The Bainbridges had two children of their own - Oliver who was nine years old and Ellie who was seven. The plan was that Tom and Jessica could look round the farm and help while Guy did some routine checks on Marty’s animals.Then Gill was going to give them one of her legendary lunches and, later in the afternoon, when the Bainbridge children were back from their school, which was open today, all four kids could run wild for a couple of hours. Perfect.

The house at the Bainbridges’ farm was more manor house than farmhouse - a beautifully proportioned, double-fronted Georgian home, more graceful and elegant than the usual heavy stone buildings of the area. Clearly, Radley’s had always been a thriving farm and the Bainbridges had carried on that tradition. Even the yard was clinically clean which made a welcome change from some of the remote hill farms he ventured onto where it was difficult to tell where the pigsty finished and the farmhouse started.

The lawn in front of the house was pristine, mowed into regimented stripes, the borders lush with fading annuals and stoic evergreens - planted as only a TV gardener would. A majestic oak, still clinging to its golden leaves, swept its branches over the vista in one corner. Magnificent stone planters, blooming lavishly, guarded either side of the front door.

Marty and Gill came out to greet them as Guy pulled up behind their new Mercedes 4x4 parked in front of the house. In the back of the car, Jessica’s eyes had widened in awe. ‘Do you think our house might look like this one day?’

‘I should think so,’ Guy said. With an awful lot of paint and hard work and even more cash. But there was no doubt that Helmshill Grange had the potential to be equally grand a home.

‘I’d like that,’ Jessica said breathlessly as she clambered out of the car.

Marty clapped Guy robustly on the back. ‘Good to see you, old friend.’

‘Good to see you too.’ Guy took in the Mercedes, eyeing it enviously. ‘Like the new motor.’

‘Thought I’d treat myself,’ Marty said proudly. ‘Took delivery last week. Lively little thing. All the comforts of home.’

‘You’re getting soft in your old age,’ Guy teased.

‘We’ll maybe take it out for a spin later. Do a bit of boys’ tyre-kicking.’

‘Sounds great.’

‘You boys and your toys. Don’t I get a look in?’ Gill chided as she hugged Guy. ‘We don’t see enough of you.’

‘I know,’ he said apologetically. ‘Life is busy.’

‘Not too busy to take on someone else’s children though?’

He smiled at the inference. ‘I’m helping out a friend.’

‘We’ve heard all about the lovely Widow Ashurst,’ she whispered. And, in response to his puzzled glance, said, ‘I spoke to Cheryl yesterday and she filled me in on all the details.’

‘Cheryl, I’m afraid, tends to make up a lot of the detail.’ He ushered the children forward. ‘This is Tom,’ he said. ‘And this is Jessica.’

‘Well, I’m very pleased to meet you both,’ Gill said. ‘I hope that you’ll have some fun while you’re here and then my children will be home later and you can all play together.’

Tom and Jessica smiled shyly.

Gill linked her arm through Guy’s and, leading them all back towards the house, said, ‘You’ll have some tea?’

‘We’ve just had hot chocolate and muffins at Poppy’s,’ he confessed.

‘I do hope that you’ve left room for lunch.’

‘Oh, I’m sure we have.’

‘Let’s get straight out onto the farm then,’ Marty said. ‘I’d like you to take a look at the new pedigree Suffolks I just bought.’

‘I’ll just get the dog,’ Guy said. ‘He’s a bit of a handful, but I think he’ll be okay.’

He let Hamish out of the car and the big dog immediately bounded round in circles trying to burn off the energy that had accumulated during a twenty-minute journey in the car.

‘See what you mean,’ Marty boomed. ‘Fine-looking dog though.’

‘He’s our dog,’ Jessica piped up.

‘Well, you’re very lucky,’ Marty told her.

‘We’ve got a cat too,’ she ventured now that she was finding her voice. ‘She’s called Milly Molly Mandy.’

‘Come and see our animals,’ Marty said. ‘You’ll like them.’ He slung an arm round Tom’s shoulder and took Jessica by the hand.

Guy smiled to himself. There was no room for shyness where the Bainbridges were concerned. The day was turning out to be a great success. Maybe he could do this more often, if Amy would let him.

‘Come on, boy,’ he said to Hamish. ‘All you’ve got to do is behave for the day and everything will be perfect.’

Much later, it was a sentence he came to regret.