Pastures New (22 page)

Caroline waved an airy hand. ‘My plans are, shall we say, fluid at the moment. Don’t worry, I’m not planning to kick you out in the foreseeable future, although now I’m back I find I’m quite enjoying being here.’

Amy breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Are you staying locally, then?’ she asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Caroline. ‘A
very
good friend is kindly putting me up.’

‘Who’s that?’ One of her many paramours, no doubt.

‘You probably don’t know him.’ Caroline’s insouciance was totally studied. ‘I’m staying with Ben Martin.’

‘You’re staying with Ben?’ said Amy, trying to keep her tone light, as she fiddled with the kettle in the kitchen. ‘He didn’t say.’

Why hadn’t he said? Why? Ben had never mentioned Caroline, so why was she staying with him? Amy cast her mind back to the first time he’d come round to the house – Ben had clearly known his way about. He’d said all the houses round there were the same layout, but what if he’d been lying? Just how close had he and Caroline been? A fleeting memory of the look on Ben’s face on Saturday night, when he had clearly been trying to tell her something, and she had been too busy to hear, unsettled her.

‘Oh, you know Ben then?’ Again, that studied insouciance. Amy felt Caroline knew damned well that she knew Ben, and was trying to gauge her reaction. Well, two could play at that game.

‘You know what it’s like around here,’ said Amy airily. ‘Everyone knows everyone else. Harry introduced us.’

‘Dear old Harry,’ said Caroline without a trace of affection. ‘He still knocking about then, is he? I would have thought he’d have gone to the great garden in the sky by now.’

Amy looked at Caroline with growing dislike. What
on earth was Ben doing anywhere near this wretched woman?

‘I expect you know that Ben and I go way back,’ continued Caroline. ‘We were very,
very
close, but then I decided to go and find myself. I’m a free spirit, you see, I don’t like to be pinned down. Darling Ben is a bit of a stick in the mud. But I expect you’ve worked that out for yourself.’

Mentally thinking that pinning Caroline down and sticking darts in her would be very good therapy, Amy merely smiled sweetly and hoped that Caroline couldn’t detect the churning emotions raging inside her.

‘So were you and Ben an item then?’ She tried to say it as casually as she could.

‘Oh lord, yes.’ Caroline looked coy. ‘Ben’s the only person I’ve ever considered marrying. But like I said, I’m a free spirit, me. And gorgeous and all as he is, even Ben couldn’t keep me in dull old Nevermorewell. But at least I’ve got him to entertain me while I’m here.’

Amy opened her mouth and shut it again. She couldn’t think of a thing to say.

‘Well, nice and all as it has been chatting, I can’t stay round here all day,’ said Caroline. ‘I’d best get back. Ben said he might pop back at lunchtime, and I promised I’d make him a spicy lentil stew. It’s one of his favourites. You know what men are like, they never eat properly when they’re on their own, do they? And he’s got shockingly thin in my absence. I need to build him back up – in every way.’

Forty–love to you, thought Amy silently, as she saw Caroline out. In one fell swoop, Caroline had claimed
Ben as her own. She tried to think back to what, if anything, Saffron had told her about Ben’s love life. She couldn’t remember any mention of Caroline. Was it possible that Ben was one of Caroline’s conquests? Suppose he was? And it had been serious? Where did that leave Amy now? Amy owed it to Ben to wait to hear his version of events, but in the light of such overpowering certainty, Amy wasn’t at all sure that she was going to like what she heard.

Saffron sat down and relaxed with a welcome glass of wine. What would already have been a tough week without Pete had turned into a nightmare with her mum being ill. Without Amy and Ben she didn’t know how she would have coped. Thankfully, Elizabeth continued to improve, and was hoping to come home early next week. Mindful of how much time Saffron had spent away from the children, Elizabeth was now insisting that Saffron get home early in the evening and put her feet up. ‘You’ve done enough for your old mum,’ she’d said.

So now Saffron was home, trying to relax and not worry about work. With all the turmoil going on, she hadn’t managed to do much gardening, and again was grateful to Amy for holding the fort. What she’d do without her she couldn’t imagine. Amy had doubled her workload this week by going out to see Saffron’s clients as well as her own. The only upside to them having lost so many jobs was that at least Amy had
been able to keep on top of the ones they had managed to retain. Which, given that she had been taking the children along with her, was the only silver lining to the cloud that loomed over the business.

Saffron frowned. Perhaps it was time to be a bit proactive and turn detective. She would begin by asking her remaining regulars if they knew what was going on – in fact, Linda would be a good place to start. She knew practically everyone in Nevermorewell.

Saffron lay back on the sofa watching the TV in a desultory fashion. She should go to bed really, but she was hoping Pete would phone. She couldn’t wait for him to come home.

She was jolted out of her musings by a crash in the back garden. Heart beating, and wishing more than ever that Pete were here, she turned the light off and drew the lounge curtains. The security light had flooded on, and she could make out a pot that had smashed across the path. Odd. It wasn’t windy. Perhaps it was a fox.

She felt a sudden clutch of fear. Or maybe it was an intruder.

Don’t be silly, she admonished herself. There were very few break-ins round here. It
must
have been a fox.

She went into the kitchen and looked for a suitable instrument.
Ah, yes
, she thought, seizing the shillelagh that Pete had once insisted on buying her on a trip to Dublin, for reasons that escaped her, but for which she was now very grateful. She felt emboldened enough to unlock the kitchen door and stride down
the path. Self-defence classes she had been to always suggested going on the offensive, and roaring loudly to scare away an aggressor. Feeling too self-conscious to roar, she nevertheless walked as boldly as she could down the path. The security light illuminated most of the garden, and there weren’t many nooks and crannies where an attacker could hide. There was no one there.

She bent over to pick up the pieces of the pot. It was too dark to sort out properly, but at least she could clear the path. Then she stopped and stiffened. She heard a soft thud, thud, and looked to the end of the garden. The garden gate was flapping gently back and forth. Saffron swallowed hard. She was sure she had shut it earlier.

Armed with the shillelagh, she ran down the path, looking from left to right to make sure there were no Greebos lurking in the shadows. The garden was quite empty, but the gate was still open. And in the mud that marked the allotment boundary, she could see the shape of a boot. Slamming the gate shut and locking it as quickly as she could, Saffron raced back to the house, heart hammering ninety to the dozen. Someone had been in her garden. Of that she was certain.

‘Couldn’t the boot print have been yours?’ Amy asked the next day, when Saffron related the story.

‘No, I checked in the morning. It was way too big
for mine, and Pete hasn’t been out on the allotments in months, so it couldn’t be his.’

‘Did you call the police?’

Saffron pulled a face. ‘They just said it was kids mucking about.’

‘They’re probably right,’ Amy reassured her. ‘It’s not like there’s a lot of crime around here. It’s one of the reasons I love it so much. Back in London, you always had to watch yourself. Do you want me to come and keep you company tonight?’

‘That’s really nice of you,’ said Saffron. ‘But you must be sick of the sight of my house. Besides, Pete’s back tonight. I’m sure I can manage. After all, I have got my trusty shillelagh.’

‘Well, if you’re sure …’

‘I am, thanks. I tell you another odd thing, though,’ Saffron continued. ‘I think someone’s been in my shed.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I found an empty chip wrapper, and a can of beer. And I certainly didn’t put them there.’

‘Now that
does
sound like kids,’ said Amy. ‘Perhaps we ought to mention it to Harry. He can bring it up at the next allotmenteers’ committee meeting. If there are kids breaking into the allotments at night, we should all be more vigilant.’

‘Good idea,’ said Saffron. ‘I shall try not to worry about it. Come on, let’s get out to Mrs Webster’s. Her beds were in a shocking state last time we visited, so I hate to think what they’re like now.’

Saffron was trying to be positive. There probably
was
a simple explanation for the chip paper. But along
with the haemorrhaging clients, and the intruder in her garden, she was beginning to feel as if someone had it in for her.

Ben made his way up Amy’s path after work. What a difference a week could bring. This time last week he had been anticipating a relaxed and enjoyable evening with her. And now, thanks to Caroline, he wasn’t sure what reception he was going to get. Caroline had casually let slip that she had been over to Amy’s, and equally casually mentioned that Amy now knew where she was staying.

‘I do believe your little girlfriend was a teensy bit jealous,’ Caroline had laughed her tinkly laugh, which was really beginning to grate on Ben’s nerves.

‘She’s not my girlfriend, and she has no need to be jealous, given that there is nothing going on between you and me,’ said Ben, resisting the urge to slap her.

‘More’s the pity,’ Caroline said breathily, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. Time was when that would have had an effect. But not now. Ben simply ignored her, and went out to work, determining firstly to call Amy at the earliest opportunity, and secondly to get Caroline out of his house as soon as humanly possible.

He had tried calling Amy, but she seemed to be out every time he rang. It was as if she were avoiding him. And then he’d had a couple of very busy days at work, and had got home too late to pop in on her.

But he was here now, and he had to hope that she would give him the benefit of the doubt.

Ben stood on the doorstep, and when the door opened, asked, ‘Can I come in?’

‘Cup of tea?’ She tried to keep her voice light, and hoped he wouldn’t hear the tremble in it. This was ridiculous. Last week she had felt happy and relaxed with him, and was even contemplating having his babies! And now she was all over the place.

‘Yes, thanks.’ Ben followed her into the kitchen, where Josh was drawing a picture.

‘Ben!’ Josh leapt up in delight and threw his arms round Ben’s legs. ‘Where have you been?’ he said accusingly. ‘We haven’t seen you for
ages
.’

Amy’s heart swelled at the way her son looked at Ben. He would make such a good father. If that’s what he wanted. If that was what
she
wanted.

‘Sorry, mate,’ said Ben, ruffling Josh’s hair. ‘I’ve been a bit busy. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

‘I owe you an apology,’ Ben blurted out, as they sat down with their tea in the lounge.

‘I presume you mean Caroline?’ Amy said frostily.