Fandango in the Apse! (22 page)

I stared after him as he left the room, my thoughts centred entirely on
the last few minutes.  What was going on?  It was obviously to do with my lack
of bed partners over the past few years, but for the life of me, I couldn’t
understand why that should be a problem.  In fact, I would have imagined it to
be the reverse.  Damn it to hell, why couldn’t I have kept my big mouth shut. 
It was typical of me – the first chance I got to have a bit of fun and I had to
go and put the boot in big-style. A shower, I thought, then, I would have it
out with him.

‘That’s better,’ I grinned as I entered the kitchen, ‘I feel human
again.’  During my shower, I had decided on an upbeat approach.  There was no
point in making this a bigger thing that it was already.  I would just enquire
politely and hopefully, get some answers.  It was a shame I didn’t get the
chance.

‘Good, right well I’ll go and have mine then.  I’ve put some bread in the
toaster and there’s butter and marmalade if you want it.  Oh, and I’ve taken
your clothes out of the dryer they’re over there,’ said Robbie, indicating to
my neatly folded shorts and undies.

I gave up on breakfast after the first bite of toast tasted like
cardboard.  I quickly dumped the rest in the bin, shoved my dishes in the
dishwasher and grabbed my clothes.  I had showered in Robbie’s room, but I
decided to dress in the spare room – dressing  in front of him seemed far too
intimate now.  I was determined to ignore the little ball of… what? Hurt…disappointment? 
I wasn’t sure what it was that was building in the pit of my stomach.

Desperate not to out stay my welcome, which seemed a real possibility by
then, I’d asked Robbie to drive me home as soon as he reappeared.  He was
clean-shaven and I could detect a hint of citrus shower gel as he geared the
car into motion.  We’d chatted amicably on the short drive to my house, it was
a front and I think we were both aware of that.

‘I’ll send Geoff and Dave round tomorrow first thing to mend the roof and
ceiling,’ Robbie mentioned as I got out of the car.

‘Oh right… thanks.’  He wasn’t coming himself then.  I stood for a
moment, unsure of the protocol in a situation like this.

‘OK, well, see you then.’ I closed the car door.  So that was it, I was
to be another notch after all.  I felt my insides cave in on themselves as I
walked to my front door.  All I wanted was to be behind it, out of Robbie’s
view.  It took some doing, but pride made me turn and wave cheerily as I
entered the house.  Robbie lifted a finger off the steering wheel in
recognition before turning his head to reverse back down the drive.

So now do you understand why I keep saying I’m jinxed?  Although this
time I have to admit, I rather jinxed myself.  But that’s me, five steps
forward, three back every time.  I should have been used to it by then… but I
wasn’t.

I closed the
door to the sound of Robbie’s car revving down the lane.  Slinging my woolly sweater
over the back of the sofa and my keys on the coffee table, I sat feeling
unbelievably let down.  I couldn’t make up my mind if that was by Robbie or
myself.  ‘Damn it to hell!’ I said to the empty room.

I sat for another few minutes going over the whole scenario once more,
but when I was no nearer an understanding, I gave up.  Get a grip, girl and
just put it down to experience, I told myself, as I grabbed the sweater and
flicked Shania Twain on almost full blast as I passed the CD player.  I damped
down the little ache still stuck in the pit of my stomach and went upstairs to
put some clothes on and then make a start clearing the bathroom floor.

Alison rang as I was clearing out the last lot of plaster.

‘Just had a thought… why don’t you come over and have a late lunch with
Missy and me?  Mark rang and they should be back about six, so we have time for
a natter.’

‘OK, give me about an hour, I’ve just got to mop the bathroom floor and
get changed.’

‘Katie, are you OK? You sound a bit down in the mouth.’

Shit…she knew me so well.  ‘No, I’m fine… see you in an hour.’

‘OK,’ Alison replied, but she didn’t sound convinced.

Just over an hour later I was standing in Alison’s kitchen watching her
dole out beef casserole with dumplings between three plates from a humongous casserole
dish.

‘I know this is a bit full on for a summer day, but I figured the boys
might need fortification after a day on the high seas,’ she laughed.

‘Smells delicious… and actually I’m starving.’  I’d  just realised I
hadn’t eaten anything since the evening before.  Had that only been yesterday? 
So much had happened since then, it felt a lot longer.

I promise you, I really wasn’t going to mention anything other than my
idiocy on the roof to Alison, but it just sort of got away from me as I was
telling the tale.

‘You slept with Robbie?’ she shrieked.

‘Shush!  Missy will hear you.’  Missy had taken her lunch into the den,
but if she had left the door open, she would still be able to hear.

‘You slept with Robbie?’ Alison repeated almost whispering now. ‘How? Why?’

I sighed in resignation and began reciting the whole episode.  I knew
Alison wouldn’t rest until she had the whole story, so there wasn’t much point
in trying to hide anything.

‘So he just changed after you mentioned the lack…’

‘Yep, it was just like he clicked a switch.’ I flicked my hand in the air
to demonstrate.

‘How odd?  I wonder why?’

‘I hoped you might have some idea on that.’

‘And you say he didn’t ask you to meet up with him again?  What… he just
drove off?’

‘After saying he would send a couple of his men around to mend the roof
tomorrow, yes.’

‘Oh Katie, I’m sorry.  I blame myself…if I hadn’t kept going on about
it…’

‘Alison,’ I interrupted. ‘It had nothing to do with you, if fact, I never
gave you a thought…well not until afterwards.’

‘So…’ Alison had a cagey look about her, and I knew what was coming next.
‘How was it…the sex?’

‘Fan-bloody-tastic!’

We stared at one another for a second, then burst into gales of
laughter. 

‘Well at least you broke your duck, so to speak…’ This solicited another
raucous bout of hilarity until Missy came in demanding to know what was so funny.

I could always trust Alison to put things in perspective and as the weeks
wore on, I was able to look at the whole incident as a blip in my otherwise
perfectly normal life.   A rather painful blip, but nonetheless, a blip. The
bathroom was as good as new and I had every confidence in the roof holding up
to the coming winter, since Geoff and Dave had given it the once over on
Robbie’s instructions.  I hadn’t seen him since and I hadn’t received a bill
either.  This bothered me, given what had happened between us, I didn’t want
freebies. 

Eventually I summoned the courage to email him and politely ask for an
invoice.  I received an equally polite reply stating the amount due, which I
paid by post the following day.  Job done…incident closed, as far as I was
concerned.

It was soon September and my boys were leaving home.  I had mixed emotions
about that.  Don’t get me wrong, I wanted them to be independent, confident
young men, but I also wanted to keep them home and safe.  I know…but as any of
you who have had to watch your fledglings fly will know, it’s not easy to let
go, is it?

Toby was off on a gap year “Grand Tour” financed by his father, before he
started university the following year. He and six of his friends were backpacking
around the world.  Sam, whose love of growing things had since developed into a
love of farming, had secured himself a live-in working apprenticeship on a farm
in the Cotswolds for a year, until he started Agricultural College the
following September.

The house seemed quiet and extremely tidy after I had tearfully bade
farewell to them within days of each other.  I held little hope that Toby’s
assurances that he would ring weekly would materialise, he was very much a free
spirit, and tended to need to “do his own thing”.  Sam, bless him, had already
rung me four times in the six days since he had left.  He was a little homesick,
but loving the farm and I knew everything that went on in a piggery in minute
detail, actually, rather more than I wanted to know.

‘So how are you doing? Alison asked as she flipped through a clothes rail
full of skirts.  We were having a rare day out shopping in Lincoln.

‘Not too bad, I miss the boys but Sam will be home for Christmas.  I keep
looking forward to that, but work is driving me mad.  Do you know, I really
think I’m beginning to hate it there. The new manager is a right bastard.  He
has his head so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he doesn’t fart when he
speaks.’

‘Oh dear… not good.’ Alison giggled, ‘But that’s an interesting metaphor.’

She flipped through the rail once more not really looking at anything in
particular.

‘I’m fed up of this now… I can’t find a single thing I like.  Shall we go
get some lunch?’

‘Sounds like a plan…where do you fancy?’

We settled on a little Dickensian looking “Ye Olde Tea Shoppe” kind of
place in one of the back streets.  It was quaint and sold the most amazing looking
homemade cakes.

‘A ham salad sandwich and a piece of coconut cake please,’ I told the
waitress, once we were sitting at a little gingham clad table.

‘I’ll have the same,’ said Alison, ‘but I’ll have the Victoria sponge I
think?’

‘You know, I’d love a place like this,’ said Alison a moment later.

‘A tea shop?’ I asked.

‘Yes…or a flower shop…I’m not fussy.’

‘Or both…why settle for less!’ I laughed.

‘No honestly, Katie, I’m serious.  I’ve been thinking about it for a
while.  You know Mark has been working more and more from home lately?’ I
nodded. ‘Well, I love him dearly, but he’s driving me crazy.  He’s under my
feet all the time, yelling for food or drinks from the study, yelling for the
kids to keep quiet…argh!  I’ve threatened to put him in the shed if he keeps it
up.’

‘Right, so how does this …?’

‘Ah well…I had a thought, why don’t I go out to work instead?’

‘I’m not with you.’

‘Well it’s so long since I worked for anybody I’m not sure I could handle
being bossed around, but if I had my own
business…do you see?’

‘And you’re thinking tea shop?’

‘Yes…or flower shop, after all we spent all those months at the classes. 
What do you think, great idea or what?’ Actually it was and I could see Alison
was excited about the prospect.

‘Flippin’ marvellous idea, Ali.  I think you should do it.’

Bashfulness is not something I associate with Alison, but that is exactly
how she appeared when she next spoke.

‘Hmm…I’m glad you said that coz there’s one slight problem, I don’t think
I could raise enough capital to do it on my own.’  It took a moment for the
penny to drop.

‘You mean you want me to go in with you, a joint venture?’

‘Yes, wouldn’t it be fantastic?  Could you afford it, do you think?’  The
earnest look on her face made me realise how much this meant to her – what the
hell – I thought, it’s only money.  I was, in my usual fashion, making snap
decisions.  I just hoped to God I didn’t regret this one.

‘Well, it depends on how much we would need, but I still have some of my
divorce money invested and a tiny bit saved… go on then, you’ve twisted my arm…
partner.’

Alison’s shriek of delight startled the other customers, but we ignored
them as we sat, heads together, making plans.  The more we talked the more I
came round to the idea of being my own boss; it would give me the greatest of
pleasure to be able to tell the manager to shove his job up his arse – that is,
if he could fit it alongside his head.

It amazes me how life works.  Sometimes it feels like you’re bumping
along, hanging on for dear life, dodging copious dollops of the brown stuff and
other times everything just slips into place without you even trying. 
Amazingly, the latter was what happened next.

A month after his departure, and two weeks into our search for the
perfect shop, I finally received word from Toby in the form of a hastily
written postcard.  It was dated two weeks previously (which mollified me
slightly) and stated that they were in Tibet with no phone signal, but moving
on to China the following day.  I did wonder if it occurred to him that he
could actually have used a landline, but at least he had written, so I wouldn’t
moan at him.

It was a day for international post, I mused, as I rummaged through the
rest of the mail, which I’d slung in a heap on the table in my eagerness to
read Toby’s postcard.  There was a letter with an Australian postmark.  I knew
the only person it could be from was Jethro. 

As I mentioned earlier, over the years we had exchanged letters.   Once
I’d moved to Gringly, I’d felt the need to get in touch with him to explain the
misunderstanding with my father.  He had known my mother and understood, although
he was sad at the way things had turned out.  I hadn’t contacted my half
brother and sister though, I just never came to terms with the jealousy I felt
about them growing up with our father. (Actually, I still haven’t, that’s
something I really will have to deal with… perhaps I should have mentioned it
to Patti…nah! She’d have had a field day with that juicy titbit.)

I popped the kettle on and made a cup of tea so I could sit and enjoy
Jethro’s letter.  He was always amusing, although now in his late ninety’s he
had failing eyesight and had to dictate his last few letters to someone else. 
His beloved wife Julia, was dead and he had no children, so I assumed it was a
friend or carer who helped him out.

The letter was from neither, it was from Jethro’s solicitor.  Jethro had
died in his sleep a few months previously.  It was so sad, I liked Jethro, and
he had been the last link I had to my father.  I said a silent prayer for him
before reading on.