Fandango in the Apse! (23 page)

Apparently, I was one of the beneficiaries of his will.  His estate,
which included a sheep station and various investments, had been sold off and I
was to receive the sum of one hundred and thirty-eight thousand pounds. 
What?
 I had to read that part again…yes, I had read right…oh-my-god!

            I had no inkling that Jethro was worth that sort of money, or
that he would leave me any, it just never entered my head.  I read the rest of
the letter requesting details so they could transfer the money to me, in
somewhat of a daze.  When I had eventually calmed down enough to think straight,
I knew there was one thing I needed to do.  After an email to the solicitors in
Australia to find out where Jethro was buried; I arranged to have flowers
delivered to his grave.  I felt it was the least I could do and the only way I
could thank him for his generosity.

            ‘My goodness… what are you going to do with it?’ Alison asked,
when I phoned to give her the news.

            ‘Well for a start – you and I are going to have the best
flower shop in Nottinghamshire, then I’m going to invest some of it for the
boys.’

            ‘Katie, you can’t put in more than me, it wouldn’t be fair on
you.’

            ‘Look the business can pay me back later, but do you see what
this means?

We can widen our search and look at more up-market properties…how great
is that?

            ‘Are you sure Katie?  It just doesn’t seem right to me.’

‘Oh, hush up, you silly woman…and get searching.’

Three weeks later, I took a phone call at work from Alison.

‘You are never gonna believe this…but I think I’ve found our shop.’

‘Really…where?’

‘That’s the amazing bit – it’s right here, in Retford.’ Wow! That was
good news. 

‘Retford?  But we search all over there for a suitable place, where in
Retford?’

‘You know the little walled Georgian square just off the market place?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well there were three derelict properties up for sale in there last
spring and guess who bought them?’

‘Who?’

‘Robbie!’

‘Oh.’  Flippin’ Robbie – that man was haunting me. He was always there,
lurking at the back of my life. And what was worse, just a mention of his name
was still enough to cause my tummy to flip.  How bloody pathetic was that?

‘Oh… I forgot,’ Alison was saying now. ‘Is that going to be a problem? 
It’s just Mark mentioned what we were doing to him last night and he’s offered
it at a really good rent and he’ll discount on the fittings.  But look Katie,
if dealing with Robbie is going to stress you out, then I’ll tell him to forget
it.  We can find somewhere else.’

I could hear how much it cost her to say that, it was also completely
obvious she had set her heart on this place.  I decided to be professional
about it.  I could work with Robbie, I was, after all, a grown up, and bollocks
to tummy flips and bruised egos.

‘Of course it won’t be a problem, Ali, that was months ago.’

(Four months and twelve – no thirteen days ago, to be precise).  ‘I’ve
forgotten all about that.’

‘You’re sure?’  Like I said, that’s the trouble with having a close
friend, they know you inside out.

‘I’m sure.’

‘Ok, well, I’ve already been to have a look at it this morning, but shall
I meet you there later when you finish work?  After all we both have to like
the place.’

‘If you like it – I’ll like it, so don’t worry about that.  It’s my half
day today, so I can meet you about three?’

‘Great… I’ll see you then, wait ‘till you see it Katie, it’s perfect.’

The shop was perfect,
nestled as it was between a book shop and a bakery, both of which seemed to be
doing a good trade when we went to have a look.  I even managed to stay true to
my word and maintained a professional exterior when we met up with Robbie.  That
was unexpected because I hadn’t realised he would actually be there.  I say
exterior because inside I was still feeling hurt about being notch number god
knows how many on his very long belt.

Well you would wouldn’t you?  I would have much preferred honesty, it may
be tough to swallow, but at least you know where you stand.  I was adamant
there was no way he was going to see that he had any effect on me whatsoever.  Look,
I admit it… I have a problem with rejection, OK?

We discussed how we would refit the shop and took note of any suggestions
Robbie made.  I had to concede that he might be a shit, but he knew his stuff
and had some excellent ideas we would never have thought of.  He was polite and
professional throughout; although I did notice that he addressed most of his
comments to Alison. 

            ‘Robbie has just phoned,’ Alison was saying a couple of weeks
later. ‘He’s got the plans and costings worked out and wants to meet with us. 
I’ve suggested your place because you know what it’s like here, we’ll never get
any peace…is that OK?’

            Obviously it would have to be, now she had arranged it.  But
noise or not, I would still have preferred her house.

            I gripped the phone tightly. ‘OK, when?’

            ‘Tonight…about seven thirty.’

            I supressed a sigh.  Did she not realise I needed time to get
used to the idea of having Robbie sitting on my sofa?  No of course she didn’t,
and whose fault was that? I reminded myself.  After all, I had told her I was
fine dealing with Robbie.

            ‘Fine,’ I said.  ‘Should I do food?’

            ‘I wouldn’t have thought so, I’ll have eaten anyway.  I
suppose you could offer Robbie a sandwich or something if he hasn’t eaten
already.  I’ll leave it with you.’

I decided to go with the sandwich idea.       

Now that the boys were gone, I didn’t normally light the fire in the
sitting room, it always seemed a waste just for me and I hated cleaning the
thing out the following day.  However, as I was having guests I decided I would
light it for a change.  I waited for the kindling to take hold before I went upstairs
for a shower.

            This is completely silly I know; Robbie had about as much
interest in me as he had of catching flu, but I couldn’t help taking extra care
with my make-up.   It took ages to decide on a white mohair sweater and my best
fit jeans, but it was OK, I reassured myself half a dozen times, it was for my
own benefit.  Yeah right! 

            So you can imagine my dismay when at ten to seven, I came
downstairs to find the fire almost out and smoke was backing up into the room. 
‘Damn and blast it!’ I wailed.  The room was stinking from the smell of the
smoke and I rushed to open the front door to let it escape.

            I stood looking at the offending fireplace.  ‘Sodding thing,’
I grumbled, ‘why tonight?  What the hell was wrong with it?’  For some reason
and I’ve never been clear why I did it, I picked up the poker and rolling the
sleeve of my snow white jumper  as far up my arm as I could, I thrust the poker
up the chimney and started to feel around for a blockage. 

I could feel something stuck just where the chimney narrowed and as
gently as I could I prodded whatever it was.  It wouldn’t budge, so I kneeled
closer on the hearth and gave one more shove.  To my relief what looked like an
old birds nest landed in the grate, however, I wasn’t prepared for the huge
clump of soot that followed it down.  It happened so fast, I didn’t have time
to do anything other than shut my eyes as a cloud of loose soot enveloped me
from head to foot.      

Then I heard an almighty belly laugh, it was male and I knew without
opening my eyes it was Robbie.  I could have happily died on the spot.  He
continued laughing and after dusting the soot away from my eyes, I opened them
to see him standing in the open doorway, almost doubled over with mirth.  He
actually had tears streaming down his face.

‘Well I’m glad you find this so amusing,’ I spat indignantly through soot
covered lips.

‘Oh Katie… that has to be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!’ I could see
he was at least trying to control himself as he spoke, but two seconds later he
started again.

‘Oh just go away, Robbie,’ I hissed, as I began to get to my feet.

‘No!  Don’t move, you’ll get soot everywhere,’ he protested.  ‘Where do
you keep the vacuum?’

I was so humiliated I could not bring myself to speak, so I pointed to
the cupboard under the stairs.   I had little alternative a moment later, but
to sufferer the indignity of being hovered from top to toe by Robbie… who was still
trying to get himself under control. 

‘Right, you go and have a shower, I’ll do what I can here,’ he said,
while biting his lips between his teeth to supress his next bout of laughter.

I managed a very small, ‘Thank you,’ before hurrying upstairs.  I was
appalled a moment later when I looked at myself in the mirror; I looked like
Bozo the Clown’s negative.

I hadn’t spent a moment thinking about what to wear when I was showered. 
I’d dragged on an old pair of leggings and a baggy shirt and gone downstairs to
help Robbie and no doubt, Alison, who would have arrived by now, with the
cleaning up.

OK, I’m just going to skim over the facts about what happened next, but,
before you judge me too harshly, please remember I’ve always had a “thing” for
Robbie. 

I went downstairs to be told by Robbie that Alison had rung to say she couldn’t
make it because Luke had broken his leg, she and Mark were at the hospital
waiting for it to be plastered.  The smartest thing I could have done right
then, would have been to rearrange the meeting for another time.  However, this
is me and we all know just how smart I am, so what did I do?  I offered Robbie
a coffee and sandwich, which he duly accepted.  OK, so I’m going to cut to the
chase, we ended up in bed….
again.

How?  I honestly don’t know.  One minute we were talking about the shop
refit, the next we were kissing.  I am positive of one thing though – I did not
make the first move.  In fact, I didn’t do anything except trail behind him
while he led me upstairs.   

This time was completely different from the first.  I couldn’t decide if
that was natural progression or Robbie realizing a more gentle approach was
needed in light of my revelation previously.  Either way, I wasn’t bothered, as
I lost myself in the easy ebb and flow of our passion. 

Going against every cell of my being, I resisted the urge to ask what had
happened last time.  I think I was too scared of a repeat performance to risk
it.  This seemed to be the right decision, as over the following few weeks,
Robbie and I started dating.  Yes, you read right… Robbie and I were dating!

I couldn’t bear the look on Alison’s face a month later when I finally
had to fess up about it.  She cornered me one afternoon when we were in the
shop daubing colours on the walls.  We were no way near the paint stage yet,
but we couldn’t wait.  Robbie had been there constructing what looked like
being the most beautiful display shelves.  We were going with a French Shabby Chic
theme, and the shelves although new, had a rustic old charm about them.  Robbie
had left to do a quote for another job, so we were alone.

‘So… what’s going on with you and Robbie?’

I thought we had been careful so Alison’s question took me by surprise.
‘What makes you say that?’

‘See these two things?’  She pointed her paintbrush in the general
direction of her face. ‘They are eyes… I’ve used them.’

‘Oh.’

‘So when were you going to tell me?’  she asked, while I squirmed under
her reproachful gaze.

‘Well it’s early days yet…’ I laughed, trying to make light of the
situation.

‘Bullshit!’

‘Pardon?’

‘You didn’t want me to know – that’s why you’ve been sneaking around – be
honest here, if nothing else.’ 

‘I…’

‘You knew exactly what I’d say and you didn’t want to hear it. Are you
totally stupid, Katie?  You know what happened last time, how hurt you were,’
she held up her hand, as I opened my mouth to protest again.  ‘Don’t pretend
otherwise. I know you and you are not the type of person that can deal with a
man like Robbie.’

That smarted.  I threw down my paintbrush and grabbed a rag to wipe my
hands.

‘Really?  Remind me again just what gives you
the right to lecture
me on who I can or cannot see?  Have you or have you not bleated on forever
about me getting a man?’ I replied, throwing the rag on the floor.  Alison
followed suit with her brush, splashing paint over her jeans.

‘But I didn’t mean Robbie!
 
Look, Katie, I am your oldest friend,
I love you and Robbie to bits but you two are not right for each other.  Trust
me on this, you both have…’ Alison stopped abruptly.

‘What?’

‘Forget it, Katie.’

‘No come on… you started this, what have we both got?’

‘I’m not doing this Katie, I’m going home,’ Alison replied, as she picked
up her bag and walked towards the door.

‘What have we both got, Alison?’
 I shouted to her back.

She spun on her heel and I don’t think I had ever seen her so angry.  ‘Issues…
great big fat issues. Satisfied now?’

‘Oh, and who hasn’t?  Except maybe you, with your
perfect life, and your perfect husband.  It must be fantastic to sit up there
on your pedestal in judgment of us lesser mortals.  Do you feel superior? Well
from now on keep your opinions to yourself.’

When she had gone, I sat on an upturned bucket and wondered how that had
just happened.  During all the years of our friendship, we had never fallen out
like that.  I was physically shaking.  I’d said some nasty things and the
stupid thing was, I hadn’t meant any of them.  Yes, I was annoyed, but I knew
deep down Alison was just being what she had always been – my friend.  She was
worried for me and I knew my anger stemmed from that same worry for myself.