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Authors: Debbie Viggiano

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BOOK: Secrets
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Chapter Nine

 

When Janey and Susie arrived in Little Cobbleton, they gasped in delight. The place looked like a frosted Christmas card. London in winter didn’t look particularly festive. Well, unless you counted places like Oxford Street with its celebrity-lit lights and tinselled store windows. Janey’s own patch of London resembled Alcatraz. Her road and surrounding area contained lots of multi-cultural families. Not many people put Christmas trees in their windows. Those who did had wrought iron bars over sash oblongs to stop burglars stealing catalogue gifts paid for on the never-never. It was an impoverished area. Everything, even at Christmas, seemed drab and mean. People kept themselves to themselves. Janey had no idea who her next door neighbours were. Even the man in the flat below was only on nodding terms with her, and he’d lived there two years. By contrast, Little Cobbleton was stuffed with quaint cottages and smiling people who knew each other – perhaps too well.

‘Oh, look,’ said Susie. ‘There’s Mrs Jones outside the corner shop. She’s gossiping away with Mrs Gager and Mrs Fosdyke.’ The three women turned and waved as Janey and Susie passed by. The girls waved back.

‘In five minutes the whole of Little Cobbleton will know we’re back,’ Janey laughed.

‘Yep,’ Susie agreed. ‘And bringing our no-good London lifestyle with us. What’s the betting that soon the grapevine will be heaving with rumours about us fraternising with drug dealers and,’ she posted quotation marks in the air, “unsuitable types”.’ Susie stared glumly out of the passenger window. ‘This place is sleepier than a door mouse. What shall we do tonight? Go berserk in The Bottle and play chess? Or perhaps we should pull out all the stops and have cappuccino at Aunty Molly’s Tea Shop?’

Janey chuckled. ‘Don’t knock it. I never realise what a rat-race I’ve been in until I come back here.’ Janey took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She relished a sense of peace stealing over her body. As she continued to drive, she savoured the rolling hills to her right. The patchwork of fields seemed to go on forever, only occasionally broken up by the odd straggly hedgerow. The other side of the road was tree-lined. A multitude of bare branches stretched up into a milk-white sky. By the time Janey pulled up outside Susie’s parents’ house, she’d counted five robins. Their red breasts added a splash of colour to the stark winter scene.

Janey stifled a yawn. ‘I think I’ll pass on going out tonight.’

‘Going to spend the evening talking to Jake?’ Susie asked sarcastically. She wasn’t a fool and knew he hadn’t been in touch.

‘Maybe,’ Janey forced a bright smile. ‘But more importantly I want to catch up with my family and tell them all about my boyfriend.’ Janey knew she sounded more confident than she felt. ‘They’re going to adore him.’

Susie made a tutting noise. ‘Right – if he ever comes back from Manchester.’

Janey ignored the comment. ‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Suze.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Susie gathered up her bags scattered across the rear passenger seat. ‘Give Jake my love…if you ever speak to him again.’

Janey bit her tongue as the passenger door slammed shut. Signalling, she set off towards her parents’ place. A couple of minutes later she turned into Clement Lane and sighed happily. Here, the porches on houses were strung with cheerful lights. Some residents had decorated trees in their front gardens. It added to the Fairy Land atmosphere. Children were playing in the road on their bikes, their noses red from the cold. They all wore brightly coloured hats and scarves, probably knitted by their grandmas. In Janey’s part of London you rarely saw children playing outside. Parents were too worried about abduction. Indeed the only kids likely to be out were much older ones. They wore a hoodie uniform and hung around on street corners with watchful eyes. Janey dropped a gear and trundled slowly along to avoid the cycling children, also because the lane was inclined to potholes. Moments later the car came to rest on the driveway of Orchard House.

Pulling the key from the ignition, for a moment she sat quietly. As Janey stared at the family home she grew up in, the only sound was the tick of the car’s cooling engine. Suddenly Janey had a lump in her throat. The detached Victorian house was full of childhood memories. She loved its sash windows, huge fireplaces, and a cellar that, long ago, had been hers and Joe’s secret hide-out. These days it housed her mother’s supermarket-sized freezer and her father’s homemade wine.

Getting out of the car, Janey was just reaching for her suitcase when the front door to Orchard House flew open.

‘Yoo hoo, darling!’ Violet called and waved. She was wearing an apron over an immaculate twinset. Only her mother cooked in full make-up and elegant clothes. ‘Perfect timing. Dinner is almost ready. Come on in and have a huge sherry. Joe’s already here.’

Dinner was a convivial affair. In the privacy of his childhood home where walls kept out the wiggling ears of village gossips, Joe regaled them with tales of his flamboyant lifestyle and demanding customers.

‘Mrs Cavendish-Tate is beyond the pale.’ Joe rolled his eyes theatrically. ‘She swans in, picks out various designs and textiles, and then puts in a stonking order which she wants in forty-eight hours. She’s impossible. Sanjay and I despair.’

‘As long as she’s handing over stonking wads of cash,’ Derek pointed out. ‘I’d be inclined to keep that particular customer happy.’

‘Oh we do,’ Joe assured, ‘but she is such hard work.’

‘And how is Sanjay?’ asked Violet, popping a Brussel sprout in her mouth.

‘Wonderful as ever,’ said Joe dreamily, ‘although he still hasn’t climbed out the closet and told his family about me.’

‘Oh dear,’ Janey sighed. ‘Do you think he ever will?’

‘Well it certainly needs to happen at some point. He’s pushing for marriage. Wants me to make an honest man out of him.’

‘And will you?’ asked Janey.

‘Eventually, I’m sure.’

‘Hmm. Well, best to keep the lid on that sort of news whilst in Little Cobbleton,’ Violet murmured.

‘Oh I don’t know, I think it would be nice to ask Mrs Jones and her cronies to the wedding. Do you think she’d agree to be Matron of Honour?’ Joe smiled mischievously.

Violet shook her head in mock despair. She was used to her son’s teasing and wicked humour. ‘Unfortunately this place is light years behind London, darling. But talking of romance and wedding bells, what about you, Janey? You were so excited the last time we spoke. When are we going to meet Jake?’

‘Soon!’ Janey plastered a big smile on her face. ‘He’s currently winding up some musical commitments in Manchester, and then we’ll be sorting out our future.’

‘Are you sure he’s The One, sweetheart?’ asked Derek. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. ‘It’s been a whirlwind romance. You don’t want to rush into anything.’

‘You’re absolutely right,’ Janey nodded vigorously. Spotting an excuse, she swam towards it. ‘In fact, we’re very laid back about each other. We’re taking it, you know, slowly.
Really
slowly,’ she nodded emphatically. ‘I mean, it’s not like we’re on the phone every night and nattering away for hours on end. We’re just,’ she shrugged noncommittally, ‘cool with each other. Seeing where the relationship goes.’

‘Well I’m relieved to hear it,’ said Violet putting her knife and fork together. ‘I don’t mind telling you, we were privately quite anxious about you announcing nuptials in the New Year. We wondered if you’d had some hare-brained idea of booking Little Cobbleton’s church for a January wedding.’

Janey gave a tinkling laugh as if the thought had never occurred to her. Naturally it had.

‘Ooh, before I forget,’ said Violet. ‘Mrs Fosdyke, who is big friends with the sister of the secretary at Little Cobbleton Primary, told me a secret.’

‘Really?’ asked Janey, not remotely interested. Her mind was miles away. In Manchester to be precise. What was Jake doing right now? Was he in the orchestra pit watching, with goo-goo eyes, Cinderella? Might he be wishing the hours away until he could slip into her dressing room? Push her up against the wall? Rip off her flimsy satin bodice and–’

‘–so it’s imperative you don’t tell anybody,’ said Violet firmly, ‘because it’s not official. Janey?’

‘Yes. That’s marvellous.’ Janey hadn’t a clue what her mother had said.

‘I knew you’d be pleased!’ Violet clapped her hands together delightedly. ‘So if the Head is planning on taking early retirement and the position is up for grabs, why don’t you get in there quickly and apply for it yourself?’

Janey stared at her mother as the penny dropped. There was a vacancy for Head Teacher. She put her knife and fork together carefully. If Jake and Cinderella really were an item, the thought of going back to her little flat didn’t appeal one bit. Janey straightened up.

‘You know what, Mum? I will!’

It wouldn’t hurt to have a back-up plan – just in case her latest romance had gone belly up and she just happened to be the last person to know about it.

 

Chapter Ten

 

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Janey made discreet enquiries about the impending Head Teacher vacancy at Little Cobbleton Primary School. Within a couple of hours an official application was lined up and things were looking optimistic.

Meanwhile there was still no word from Jake. In desperation Janey finally caved in and rung his mobile. To hell with appearing uncool and clingy. It was nearly Christmas for goodness sake! The number went straight to voicemail. Janey hung up without leaving a message and took herself off for a long, lonely walk. Outside it was bitterly cold with a feisty wind adding to the chill factor. It whipped her hair about and made her eyeballs stream. Ten minutes later, real tears were flowing. She returned home two hours later with red-rimmed eyes and a dripping nose. As she approached Orchard House, her father was out in the front garden, attempting to rake up soggy leaves.

When Derek saw Janey, he paused and gave her a considering look. ‘Hello, love. Are you up for Midnight Mass later?’

‘Definitely,’ Janey cracked a smiled.

‘You look a bit sad, love. Are you missing your boyfriend?’

‘Of course.’

‘Your pal Susie has been on the jungle drums.’

Janey groaned. ‘What’s she been saying?’

‘According to what Susie told Mrs Jones–’

‘Ah, Mrs Jones. The fount of all wisdom.’ Janey rolled her eyes dismissively.

‘Well her and quite a few other wagging tongues,’ Derek tilted his head to one side. ‘The word on the grapevine is your current boyfriend is a bit of a shit, darling.’

‘A
shit
?’ Janey repeated, looking absolutely gobsmacked. ‘Was that the actual word used?’

Derek looked embarrassed. ‘Yes, darling. It was then relayed to me via Mummy. Mum was in the corner shop this morning grabbing a box of stuffing she’d forgotten and needs for tomorrow’s dinner. Apparently Mrs Jones came up to Mummy and asked how you were coping after being dumped by that no-good wannabe rock star.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ Janey was livid. ‘How
dare
Susie spread such horrible rumours? She’s meant to be my best friend!’

‘Is it true that Jake’s been staying at your flat rent-free? That he hasn’t so much as put a hand in his pocket for just one supermarket shop of the many dinners you’ve cooked him? And what’s all this about him apparently disappearing off the face of the earth without even a text message?’

‘None of it is true,’ Janey lied.

Derek regarded his daughter pensively. ‘So if I were to ask you what Jake’s address is, you’d be able to tell me, right?’

Janey looked away. ‘No,’ she mumbled. ‘I don’t know his address. But it’s something that just hasn’t cropped up. It’s not like I’m visiting him and
need
his address! We have lots to sort out together. If I get the job of Head Teacher at Little Cobbleton Primary School, then I won’t even be living in London, and neither will Jake, so
both
addresses are up in the air at this precise moment.’

‘And what about him not being in touch? Is that true?’

‘Dad, if I were to tell you I’ve not even bought Jake a Christmas present or card, would you be appalled and think, “That’s not very nice of my daughter. This man is meant to mean the world to her. Since when did Janey become a Scrooge!”?’

‘If that’s really true, then I’d hazard a guess it’s purely because Jake took off at short notice and didn’t give you the chance to buy a card or present. Am I right, or am I right?’

Janey looked down at her feet and scuffed the toe of her boot backwards and forwards. ‘Look, Jake doesn’t have some nine to five office job.’

‘I know that.’

‘He’s in the music business. It’s precarious. Things happen at short notice.’ Janey knew she was improvising, but it sounded plausible to her ears.

There was a lengthy pause. Eventually Derek said, ‘As long as you’re happy, darling. That’s all that matters to me.’

‘I
am
happy,’ said Janey miserably.

‘How about we go indoors and have a hot cup of tea to warm us up? Come on, love.’ Derek proffered an elbow which Janey took. As they linked arms, Janey realised her old dad wasn’t so daft. Not so daft at all. Although right now Janey would like to murder Susie.

Unfortunately Janey’s next sighting of her so-called best friend was at St Paul’s Church for midnight mass. It wasn’t really the place for bloodshed.

‘Coo-ee,’ Susie yodelled from her seat four pews down.

Janey nodded stiffly.
Don’t you smile at me, you two-faced cow. Fancy telling everybody about Jake not putting his hand in his pocket! Pot, kettle, black! You come into my flat, eat me out of house and home, raid my larder, raid my purse, ponce a lift down here without so much as offering a fiver towards the cost of my petrol and

‘Ooh, ’ello, love.’ Janey’s private rant was interrupted by Mrs Fosdyke tapping her on the shoulder. ‘I hear you’ve applied for the position of Head. Good luck, dear!’

‘Thanks, Mrs Fosdyke.’ Janey shook her head in disbelief. Only in a place like Little Cobbleton could the word “discretion” count for nothing. She stared after the old lady as she creaked away on her walking stick.

‘Budge up for a minute,’ said a voice in her ear. Janey turned to see Susie sitting next to her. ‘I can only stop for a minute or my mother will go doolally. She doesn’t want me associating with you at the moment on the grounds of you being a bad influence.’

‘She what?’ Janey asked incredulously.

‘It’s because of Jake being in a band. Mum thinks he spends all day in bed writing songs and snorting coke off the lyrics.’

‘I don’t
believe
this,’ Janey seethed. ‘And how dare you spread rumours about Jake. I’ve heard all about it from Mrs Jones who told Mum who told Dad who told me and–’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Susie haughtily. ‘You know full well Mrs Jones is an old bag with nothing better to do than invent gossip about people.’

‘Well by the sound of it your mother’s not doing a bad job either,’ hissed Janey.

‘Oh never mind her,’ said Susie dismissively. ‘She’s been overdosing on Coronation Street again. Anyway, how
is
Jake? Have you two caught up with each other at last?’

‘As a matter of fact,’ said Janey folding her arms across her chest, ‘we have.’

‘Excellent,’ Susie patted Janey’s knee. ‘I’m really pleased for you. And how is he?’

‘Manically busy, knackered, and missing me like crazy.’

‘Of course he is,’ Susie agreed. ‘I’d better get back to Mum. She’s giving me dagger looks.’

‘I actually think those looks are meant for me,’ said Janey in exasperation.

‘Yeah, you could be right. Well if I don’t see you at the end of the service, have a lovely day tomorrow.’

‘I can assure you, your mother, and the rest of Little Cobbleton,’ said Janey irritably, ‘that I will definitely have a Happy Bloomin’ Christmas. Okay?’

Fortunately for Janey, something was about to happen to ensure she did.

BOOK: Secrets
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