Midnight (12 page)

Wheeling her suitcase along the path, she rat-tatted on the front door. ‘Brian! It’s me – open the door!’

There was silence, then the sound of running steps, and the door was flung open to reveal a lean young man with an unruly mop of fair hair. Dressed in black Levis and a check shirt, he looked somewhat flustered.

‘Hi, Mal!’ Molly greeted him with a big smile. ‘You took your time getting to the door, didn’t you?’

On seeing it was Molly, his face broke into a wide grin. Darting forward, he took her in his arms and almost squeezed the life out of her. ‘My favourite girl! Where’ve you been all my life?’

Giggling like a schoolgirl, Molly pushed him away. ‘Back off, Mal!’ She was used to his flirting. ‘It’s only been a few weeks, but anybody would think you hadn’t seen me for years.’

‘Even a few
days
without seeing you is too long,’ he teased.

Molly rolled her eyes. ‘So where’s my baby brother?’

‘Browsing over a hot construction plan. Come to chuck him out, have you?’

Molly laughed. ‘It’s
you
I’ll be chucking out if you don’t behave yourself.’

‘Oh, don’t be like that. Especially when I’ve been dreaming about you every night.’

‘I’m warning you, Mal. I’m not in the mood for games.’

‘I’m not playing games. I mean every word.’

‘If you don’t get out of the way, I might just accidentally drop this suitcase on your toes.’

‘Oh well, if you’re in
that
kind of mood . . .’ Turning towards the sitting-room door, he yelled at the top of his voice:
‘Brian! It’s your long-lost sister . . . come to throw you out for not paying the rent!’
Grabbing Molly’s case, he led her down the passage and into the sitting-room, where Brian was already scrambling out of the armchair.

Molly’s brother was shorter than the other young man, with long dark hair tied back to the nape of his neck.

‘Molly!’ Grabbing off his rimless spectacles, Brian laid them on the table, on top of what looked to Molly like an unfolded plan of sorts. ‘What brings
you
here?’ He gave her a bear-hug.

‘Well, that’s charming, I must say!’ Molly chided him. ‘Here I am, come to see you, and that’s the kind of greeting I get.’

‘She’s brought her case,’ said Mal. ‘Looks to me like she means to stay. It’s your own fault, matey. I expect you’ve been skipping the rent again, spending it down the pub.’

‘Don’t be daft.’ Though Brian looked worried all the same. ‘I pay my rent by standing order and, as far as I know, I haven’t missed a payment – well, not for a while, anyway.’

‘Don’t take any notice of Mal,’ Molly reassured him. ‘You know what he’s like.’ Then she asked pointedly, ‘Are you going to offer me a drink, or what?’

Sensing that Molly needed to talk with her brother, Mal leapt in with the offer, ‘Coffee, tea – or something stronger?’

Brian had a better idea. Folding up the plan, he said, ‘Look, why don’t we give this a break and pop across to the pub for an hour? We could get a snack. And Molly can tell me why she’s turned up with a suitcase in one hand and a face that would turn milk sour.’

He could see by her subdued manner that she’d had some kind of upset, which he deduced as being a row with the ever-patient Jack. Brian knew his beloved sister had strong opinions, and right or wrong, she was a woman who liked to get her own way. Normally, Jack took it all in his stride, but Brian suspected that this time, the big guy must have refused to be pushed around.

‘You and Jack have had a falling-out, and you want to stay here for a while,’ he speculated. ‘Am I right?’

‘Well . . . yes. But only for a day or so, until Jack sees sense,’ Molly answered.

‘So this time Jack stood up to you. Good for him!’

‘Whose side are you on?’ Molly could do without his comments. ‘Look, am I welcome here or not? If not, I’ll leave you to your building plans and go to Mum and Dad’s.’

‘It’s your house,’ said Brian, ‘so of course you can stay here!’ He gave her a cheeky wink. ‘But only if you make breakfast.’

‘In your dreams!’ she said, laughing. Her spirits were always lifted when she was with her brother. ‘I’ll throw you out on your ear if you mess with me.’

‘She will too!’ Mal chipped in. ‘She’s a strong woman, your sister. We belong together, me and her. But will she listen? No, she won’t.’ He grinned. ‘She does fancy me, though – I’ve always known it.’

Everyone laughed at that. But Mal meant every word. He really did love Molly. She only had to say the word and he’d marry her tomorrow.

When Molly was about to retaliate, Mal teased her, ‘No! You can’t deny it. You’ve left Jack to be with me – that’s the truth, isn’t it?’

‘As if!’ joked Molly. Although she would never admit it, she was fond of him really.

Mal was also staying the night, but happily agreed to sleep on the living-room couch. ‘Anything for you, my beauty,’ he said, giving Molly a knowing wink.

Molly ignored his teasing and went about her business. It took her just a few minutes to unpack the necessary items from her suitcase – pyjamas, toothbrush, toiletries, and a complete change of clothes for the morning.

She switched on her mobile and tucked it into her jeans’ pocket in case Jack thought to call her.

She half-regretted running out on him, but he just wasn’t giving her a fair say. He was determined to change his entire life, just so he could go chasing ghosts from the past. It was a recipe for disaster. Why did he have to be so damned stubborn?!

She put most of the blame on that psychiatrist, for planting the idea in his head that the nightmare was not part of his imagination, but something more sinister.

Taking the last garment out of the case, Molly threw it onto the bed, wishing she’d never persuaded Jack to see that bloody shrink! Look what it had led to!

She felt wronged. ‘What the hell is he thinking? All he has to do is stay put and attend the clinic. But no – he wants to dump me, after all I’ve done for him!’ Though if she had stopped to think about it, she’d have realised what she’d actually done for him didn’t really amount to much.

Sliding her pyjamas into the drawer, she then slammed it shut. She didn’t intend staying here long. Just long enough for Jack to come to his senses. Turning to the mirror, she smiled at her reflection. ‘It’ll be all right,’ she told herself. ‘Jack will give in. He’ll see it my way.’

In the past, he always had.

Later, the trio walked across the street and along the path to the pub.

‘What are you two working on?’ Molly asked. She now felt more relaxed, though her mind continually went back to Jack.

‘We’ve bought a derelict barn,’ Brian replied. ‘Mal caught sight of it on his way back from a costing job, the other side of Leighton Buzzard.’

Mal took up the story: ‘You could hardly see it through the trees. It sits in a beautiful setting, though. Well away from the main road.’

‘It’s an investment,’ Brian explained. ‘Ripe for development.’

On entering the pub, he gestured to the far corner. ‘Right, you two – sit yourselves down. I’ll get the drinks.’

Mal led Molly to a table in the corner by the window. ‘This is the best spot,’ he said, pointing to the garden. ‘Some of the flowers are just beginning to blossom.’

Molly looked out the window. ‘Oh, it’s really lovely!’ The fence was dressed with wicker hanging-baskets, dripping with colour. The border around the lawn was alive with masses of dahlia blooms.

Molly was on edge because Jack hadn’t even rung her mobile to see if she was all right. She was tempted to ring him, but he would need to make the first move, because she had no intention of going along with his radical plans.

Brian was soon back with the drinks, which he placed on the table. ‘A pint of the best for Mal, and a light shandy for you.’ He pushed the glass of shandy in front of her. ‘When you’ve had that, I’ll get you another, and another, and when your tongue loosens, you might tell me what’s been going on.’

When Molly merely shrugged, Mal decided to change the subject and told her more about the barn. ‘It’s smack bang in the middle of a field. The bank is sloping, and when you follow it down, you come to this brook. Oh, I don’t mind telling you, Moll, the location is as pretty as a picture – just like you.’ He leaned forward and lowered his voice: ‘It’s the perfect place for you and me on a lazy day – and maybe a dozen of our offspring playing round our feet.’

Molly laughed out loud. ‘That’ll be the day – I don’t think!’

‘You’re a cruel girl, Molly Davis. In fact, I don’t think you even deserve my affection.’

‘That’s all right,’ she quipped, ‘because I don’t want it. Well, not in the way
you
mean.’

Collecting the menus from the bar, Brian threw them down on the table, ‘We’ve got to be quick. They’re closing the kitchen soon. Fish and chips, that’ll do me!’

‘Me too!’ That was Mal’s favourite meal.

Having lost her appetite since the upset with Jack, Molly chose a baked potato with salad.

Mal was open-mouthed. ‘That’s not even enough to keep a sparrow alive!’

‘Well, it’s enough for me.’ Molly closed her menu.

A short time later, when the food was before them, Molly opened the conversation: ‘About this barn . . . have you already bought it?’

Mal swallowed a chip. ‘Lock, stock and barrel.’

She asked her brother, ‘So, did you get it for a good price?’

Brian nodded. ‘Not bad, but it wasn’t dirt cheap either. It’s virtually derelict, so it needs a lot doing. And, as we’re naturally looking for a profit, we’re having to count our pennies.’

Molly thought the setting of the barn sounded lovely. ‘What are your ideas for it – I mean, in terms of size and that?’ Never having had much interest in broken-down buildings, she had no idea of what it might entail, but she hoped to stop Brian fishing for an explanation as to why she was there. Unfortunately, her little ploy didn’t work, because it wasn’t long before the conversation shifted to Jack.

‘So what’s been happening between you two?’ Brian asked as he put his empty glass on the table. ‘If you don’t mind me asking.’

‘Well, I do mind.’

‘Oh, well, please yourself.’ Brian knew she would have to talk about it at some point. She would seek his sympathy, and she would want him to side with her. That was Molly’s way.

For a moment the mood was quiet, but then Mal chirped up, ‘When we’ve finished our meal, why don’t we take home a bottle of plonk, and finish the evening in the privacy of your front room?’ His question was directed at Molly.

‘What, so the pair of you can pry into my affairs?’ She took a long swig of her shandy. Then another, and afterwards she sat back in her chair. ‘I might tell you – but only when I’m good and ready.’

After two more shandies, she suddenly burst out crying. ‘He won’t listen to me. He’s got these ideas in his head and he just won’t listen!’

Realising she had drunk too much, Brian knew it was time to leave. ‘Come on, Sis.’ Sliding an arm under hers, he gently raised her out of the chair. ‘Time to go.’

Molly didn’t argue. She was tired and emotionally drained.

Back at the house, Molly fell asleep in the chair, while the two men took another look at the plans for the barn.

Later, she woke to find that the day was beginning to fade and the night was already creeping across the skies. ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ She was none too pleased.

She considered calling her parents to see if Jack had tried to contact her there, but she wisely dismissed that idea.

‘I thought it best to let you sleep it off.’ Brian apologised, ‘Me and Mal got lost in the smaller details.’ He gestured to where the plan was laid out on the table.

Irritated, Molly made for the kitchen. ‘I don’t suppose Jack phoned while I was asleep?’

Brian didn’t even look up. ‘Nope.’

‘Hmm!’ She didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved. ‘Do you two want tea, or coffee?’ She poked her head round the door.

Studying the merits of a tricky decision, both men declined the offer. ‘Give it ten minutes and I might just take you up on it.’

‘Please yourselves!’ After preparing herself a chocolate drink, Molly took it outside to the garden, where she sat on the swing-seat and lost herself in misery.

Brian soon appeared. ‘I’m done in,’ he said. ‘I’m off to my bed.’ Thinking it might be best to leave her to her thoughts, he kissed her good night, and strode off towards the house.

A few minutes later Mal emerged, carrying a mug of coffee. ‘OK if I sit down beside you?’ he asked nervously, recalling her mood earlier.

Molly shrugged her shoulders. ‘If you want.’

He sat beside her, gently sending the swing into an easy motion. For a time, they both sat there, with Molly deep in thought, hardly aware of Mal sitting beside her.

Mal, on the other hand, was very much aware of her closeness. But he kept his silence, and swung very gently back and forth, comfortable with himself. After a while they made their way indoors.

Mal seated himself at the kitchen table and was the first to speak. ‘What’s wrong, Molly?’ he asked tenderly. When she made no reply, he went on, ‘You can talk to me. I’m not a telltale. I won’t repeat anything you say. You know that, don’t you?’

‘I suppose.’ Her voice was dreary as she checked her mobile phone for messages. Nothing!

He gave a nervous little chuckle. ‘I’m not really the idiot I seem to be at times. It’s just that, well, sometimes when I’m caught up in certain situations – like when you’re around – it’s easier to play the fool than to let people know what I’m really feeling.’ He dared to let his guard done. ‘You know how I feel about you, don’t you, Molly?’

She turned to look at him. ‘I’m sorry, Mal, but what we had is long over. You have to accept that.’

There was a short, difficult silence, before Mal asked, ‘Do you really not have any feelings at all for me? Not even the tiniest little drop?’ He made a pinch with his fingers.

‘No. I’ve already told you. You and me, we’ve been over a long time now.’

‘For you, maybe. Not for me.’ God! Why did he say that?

Molly inched away. ‘Stop it! Please, Mal.’