Chapter Sixteen
‘I said, Andrea’s made a start,’ Eva repeated through the gap in Sally’s door.
‘On what?’ Sally squinted out, her mind on other things, namely her preparations for her meeting with David this evening.
‘The school garden project,’ Eva imparted importantly. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, Sally noted. Over a patch of weeds? She found that hard to believe. ‘Andrea’s at the school getting stuck in and I thought it would be a jolly good idea if one or two more of us lent a hand. Show a bit of solidarity and what not. What do you think?’
Sally sighed and pulled the door wide. ‘You want me to dig, Eva?’ she asked, holding up fingers adorned with nail extensions. ‘With these?’
Eva considered. ‘Well, a shovel might be better,’ she decided, ‘but I’m sure they’ll do splendidly.’
‘Not at five pounds a nail they won’t,’ Sally assured her. ‘Sorry, Eva, but I’m feeling a stay-at-home-with-a-good-book mood coming on.’ She was happy to help out. Given Andrea’s awful predicament, of course she was. Going to school to dig a hole in the ground, though, wasn’t on Sally’s agenda today.
‘Oh.’ Eva looked crestfallen. ‘Ah, well, never mind.’ She shrugged stoically and turned to go. ‘I’m sure Doctor Adams won’t mind stepping into the breach and staying a bit longer. He’s there now, I noticed, when I passed. Turning into a bit of a white knight, isn’t he, our—’
‘Give me one minute,’ Sally said behind her, flipping off her slippers and stuffing her feet into Wellington boots.
‘My, don’t you two look cosy,’ Sally shouted across the playground.
‘Looks like we have company.’ David glanced warily in Sally’s direction as she slipped through the gate.
‘It certainly does.’ Andrea followed his gaze, pleased – and a touch relieved at the distraction. The air between David and her seemed so charged. Far from feeling cold when his arm had brushed hers earlier, her skin had practically sizzled. David was doing absolutely nothing to help, giving her such long, curious glances, Andrea was sure she’d sprouted a whole tree in her hair.
He was now giving Sally a rather worried look, she couldn’t help but notice. ‘Problem?’ she asked.
‘No,’ David said quickly. ‘Not really.’
But still, he looked like a worried man. Oh, dear. Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned she thought Sally might be on a manhunt. David was now looking as if he wanted to dig a very large hole and get in it.
‘Well, well, aren’t we the chivalrous one?’ Sally beamed David a smile as she walked towards them.
‘Sally.’ David smiled guardedly back. ‘And Eva, what on earth are you doing? I thought I told you to keep those legs up.’
‘Ooh, I bet he says that to all the ladies. I bet one or two of them would oblige, too, hey girls?’ Eva chuckled and reached to give his already flushed cheek an over-robust pinch.
‘Dressed for the occasion, I see, Eva.’ Andrea noted the gardening belt around Eva’s waist and leather knee pads adorning her dungarees.
‘If I’m going to do a job, my dear, I like to do it well. Tools to hand and whatnot.’
‘I’m not sure you should be doing jobs, well or not, Eva,’ David said seriously. ‘Not until I’ve checked you over.’
‘Nonsense.’ Eva flapped a dismissive hand. ‘I’m perfectly fine, Doctor Adams, as we’ve already established. A little light-headedness never killed anyone.’
‘Light-headedness?’ Andrea turned to David, alarmed.
‘Eva had a bit of a fall, but she’s going to the surgery on Monday, aren’t you, Eva?’
‘Oh, I don’t need to waste the doctor’s valuable time. I’m perfectly—’
‘Eva, I’m in the surgery on Monday. Either I see you there, or I pay you another house call, which will waste more of the doctor’s valuable time, won’t it?’
‘Such a fuss,’ Eva tsked, ‘but if you insist. Now then, to the job at hand.’ She moved swiftly on. ‘We thought we’d help get you organised, didn’t we, Sally?’
Andrea glanced from David to Eva, feeling quite overcome. ‘I don’t know what to say, Eva. Are you sure you’re all right? I mean, all this can wait. I was really only … Well, trying to distract myself, I suppose.’
‘As I said, I’m absolutely fine, my dear. I’m sure Doctor Adams means well, but he really is fussing about nothing. Now, come along, more hands make light work and all that.’
‘Thank you,’ Andrea said, in danger of blubbering all over again. She doubted she would have got through all this without Eva chivvying her on. ‘I honestly don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for all your kindness, Eva.’
‘I wouldn’t say no to a chocolate cupcake and caramel latte,’ Eva suggested, looking quietly pleased.
‘Make mine a Sauvie B. I’m exhausted, and this was just pouring myself into my leggings this morning,’ Sally put in, causing all eyes to turn to her legs, David’s included.
‘Right, move over, Andrea, you look frazzled. Let me have a go.’ Sally stepped determinedly towards the patch they’d made little headway on.
‘Sally, are you sure?’ Andrea asked, worriedly perusing the rest of Sally’s attire, a fur trimmed shell jacket, ivory in colour. ‘It’s very muddy.’
‘Oh, you know me, Andrea, always the outdoorsy sort. Now, make way.’
‘As long as it’s bikini and martini weather,’ Eva mumbled, behind her.
‘Eva, shhhh!’ Andrea hissed as Sally rolled up her metaphorical sleeves, placed the spade purposefully in the ground, pressed a foot on top of it, and made no impression whatsoever.
‘Make that a large Sauvie B,’ Sally said, gritting her teeth to try again.
‘You’ll need the hand hoe and a fork,’ Eva informed her knowledgeably. ‘And you’ll need to get down to their level.’
She extended a hand, and David dutifully provided his own, allowing Eva leverage to lower herself to her knees.
‘Hmm, looks as if we’ve quite a battle on our hands,’ Eva observed, examining the foe at close quarters. ‘Groundsel,’ she said, picking up Andrea’s plucked weed.
‘Oh, I thought it was a dandelion.’ Andrea furrowed her brow as she knelt alongside Eva. ‘Mind you, I wouldn’t know a cabbage from a rose.’
‘Which is why I’m here, my dear,’ Eva patted her thigh reassuringly, ‘to identify our Senecio vulgaris or groundsel from our Taraxacum officinale or dandelion in order to eradicate them efficiently.’
David shook his head, bemused. ‘I feel enlightened already.’
‘Glad to be of help, Doctor Adams.’ Eva smiled up at him, delighted.
Eva pointed her hoe at one or the other and David crouched down to join Andrea, who was paying proper attention, as Eva warbled on about annuals and perennials, and fluffy seeds being blown on the wind. ‘Which is why we have to take every little bit of the root out,’ she finished with a determined little nod.
‘Absolutely.’ Andrea nodded, equally determined.
‘Wilco.’ David saluted, he and Andrea then exchanging amused glances.
‘We’ll have a cuppa before we get stuck in,’ Andrea suggested. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on in the staffroom. Fancy one, Eva?’
‘Ooh, lovely,’ Eva said, already at work on what still looked like a weed as far as Andrea could see.
Disgruntled, Sally watched as David stood up and extended his hand to help Andrea up.
‘So kind,’ Andrea said, with a theatrical bat of her eyelashes, while Sally seethed quietly inside. They’d be finishing each other’s sentences in a minute. What was the matter with Andrea, smiling and playing up to him?
‘David?’ Andrea asked. ‘Are you up for a cup?’
‘Great.’ David smiled. ‘Coffee please, if you have some. Black with—’
‘No sugar,’ Andrea finished. ‘Got it. Sally, want one?’
God! ‘No,’ Sally said shortly, then pulled herself up and forced a smile. ‘Thanks, Andrea, but I’ve not long had one. I’ll give you a hand though,’ she offered.
‘No problem.’ Andrea smiled, her oh, so, natural make-up-less smile, which had Sally’s heart sinking into her Wellington boots. ‘Stay and chat to David, why don’t you?’ Andrea suggested, heading off. ‘Get better acquainted.’
‘I’d love to,’ Sally said cheerily. If only I could drag his attention away from you. Fuming silently, she looked at David, who was watching Andrea walk to the staffroom, her copper curls bouncing naturally behind her and still looking casual, yet sophisticated, with absolutely no flipping effort. She was wearing a man’s shirt, for goodness’ sake, and track bottoms. Couldn’t the woman ever look the tiniest bit like a wardrobe disaster? Or at least put her coat back on and stop flaunting herself.
David wasn’t just looking now, Sally noted, growing evermore peeved as she turned her attention back to him. He was perusing. And Sally did not like it one little bit. This was just too much. Damn him. What was he playing at? Determined not to let him get a glimpse of her green-eyed monster, which was now practically spitting fire, Sally wet her lips with her tongue instead, and walked over to him.
‘I’m going to help Eva on that side, just in case the poor dear exerts herself,’ she said, doing her best to look saintly. ‘I just wanted to confirm we’re still on for tonight, though. I’ve cancelled my prior engagement, you see.’
‘Oh,’ David said, looking uncertain and Sally fervently hoped, if the man valued his reputation, that he wasn’t going to back out. ‘Er, yes,’ he said, after an agonising second.
‘Good.’ Sally smiled and tried not to look too relieved. ‘I’ll open a nice red and let it breathe.’
‘Sally, I won’t be able to sta—’ David started.
‘Uh-oh, looks like rain’s stopping play, my dears,’ Eva said behind them.
‘Oooh, shit,’ Sally cursed. ‘I’ve just straightened my bloody hai … Ahem. Hey, ho, never mind though,’ she brightened so much her halo practically pinged. ‘Occupational hazard when you’re the outdoorsy sort.’
Reaching the front door as the heavens opened with a vengeance, Andrea ducked from under the overcoat David was gallantly holding over them and scrambled into the hall.
All but falling in after her, David nudged the door closed behind them. ‘On the bright side, the ground will be softer,’ he said, attempting to inject a little levity into their very sodden situation. ‘On the down side …’ He eyed his saturated coat unenthusiastically and then gave it a good shake.
‘Ooh. Ouch!’ Already out of her coat, Andrea shrieked as she was showered liberally with droplets of icy cold water. ‘Ooh, you …’ Laughing, she turned around ready to admonish him, and found David’s scrutinising gaze disturbingly on hers.
‘Sorry,’ he apologised, glancing down. Slowly down, his gaze coming to rest where the damp material of her shirt clung to her breasts.
‘Um …’ Feeling awkward as his gaze lingered, Andrea wrapped her arms about herself.
‘Sorry,’ David repeated, snapping his attention back to her face. ‘I, er … You’re drenched.’ He indicated her definitely drenched state with a nod of his head, now looking hugely embarrassed.
Well, if she would stand there with her wares practically on display … And they were, Andrea realised, mortified. With her one and only bra swilled out and hanging on the airer, the wet material was doing nothing to hide her undeniably aroused state, which was more to do with the appreciative look she’d seen in David’s eyes, she suspected, than the cold weather.
‘Gosh, you don’t say. And there was me wondering why I was dripping water all over your hall floor.’ Andrea decided to make light of the situation. A situation she absolutely shouldn’t be encouraging. She had responsibilities, for goodness sake. She was with someone. Where was bloody Jonathan anyway – again? Rolling her eyes theatrically, she turned away from David, whose close proximity was far too disturbing, attempting to tug her hair from the back of her collar as she did.
David laughed, a low deep chuckle, as she struggled with the damp tendrils. ‘You look like a drowned rat,’ he observed, stepping towards her. ‘A very cute rat,’ he added quickly, ‘but definitely a drowned one. Here, let me.’ One hand lightly on her shoulder, he smoothed her hair from her neck, and Andrea’s skin prickled alarmingly from her head to her toes.
‘Flattery will get you everywhere,’ she said, trying very hard to keep her tone flippant.
‘Will it?’ he asked quietly, after a second.
Andrea closed her eyes, her heart fluttering manically as an undeniable tingle of sexual excitement shivered the entire length of her spine. ‘David …’ Disorientated, she turned around to face him and, far from the awkward look of a moment ago, his eyes were now smouldering with an intensity that shook her.
Catching a breath, Andrea tore her gaze away. This was absurd. Dangerous. She had an almost irrepressible urge to reach out and hold him, be held by him. ‘David,’ she started falteringly again, ‘I—’
‘About bloody time!’ Sophie’s dulcet tones reached their ears from the landing. ‘Where’ve you been?’ Her tone was accusatory, and with very good reason.
Andrea felt herself blushing. ‘Swimming,’ she replied, stepping quickly away from David, ‘obviously.’
‘She’s driving me mental,’ Sophie imparted, clearly not happy as she thumped on down the stairs.
‘Who?’ Andrea asked, glancing worriedly past her truculent older daughter for signs of her younger daughter tumbling down after her.
‘Granny-bloody-gaga, who’d y’think?’
‘Sophie, language!’ Andrea shot David an apologetic look. ‘And your gran is not gaga. She just gets a bit confused, that’s all. She’s bound to be a bit upset when she’s—’
‘Under the bed,’ Sophie cut in, her arms folded, her expression now total exasperation.
Andrea blinked at her, baffled. ‘Well, what on earth is she doing under the bed?’ she asked, feeling pretty exasperated herself as she made to bypass Miss Moody. A Sophie strop she could do without right now.
‘I don’t know, do I? I’m not under there, am I?’ Sophie marched on to the kitchen, her arms still belligerently folded, lest anyone doubt she was incredibly pee’d off and put upon. ‘Probably the same as what she was doing in the wardrobe and the loo cistern.’
Andrea stopped on the stairs. ‘Pardon?’ She turned back, eyeing David now, completely baffled.
‘The loo cistern,’ David supplied, Sophie now otherwise engaged, whamming the volume up on the radio in the kitchen.
‘But …? What was she doing in the …? Ooh hell!’ Andrea skidded back down. ‘Sophie.’ She headed after her daughter. ‘What’s Gran been doing in the … Sophie.’
‘What?’ Sophie asked, knowing very well what by the look on her face.
‘Turn it down!’ Andrea yelled over Bon Jovi at ear-splitting level.
‘Rrright. Take it out on me, why don’t you? Again.’ Sophie huffily complied, snatching up the remote and zapping the volume down to enable hearing level.
Andrea shook her head despairingly. ‘Sophie, I’m not taking anything out on you. I’m trying to talk to you. It’s what adults do.’
‘Maybe I should just leave home as well.’ Sophie wasn’t in the mood for talking, apparently. She stropped across the kitchen to flick the kettle on and crash a cup from cupboard to work surface. ‘Then you’d have to find someone else to babysit the barmy old bat and blame everything on, wouldn’t you?’
Andrea sighed. ‘Sophie, I know you’re having to deal with a lot right now, but—’
‘And Chloe,’ Sophie chuntered on over her, ‘you’d have to find someone else to babysit her, too, while you go swimming … with him.’ She paused in her tea making efforts to sweep reproving eyes over David, who’d dared venture into the fray.
‘Oh, heck, Chloe.’ Realising she hadn’t even considered where Chloe might be with Sophie downstairs, Andrea turned hastily back to the kitchen door.
‘In with the boys,’ Sophie informed her shortly. ‘Nice you remembered you had at least one daughter.’
Realising Sophie was genuinely upset and feeling contrite, Andrea came back and walked across to her aggrieved older daughter, who obviously did feel ‘put upon’ and with good reason. Hadn’t she lost all her worldly goods, too? And now she was having to share not just a room with her gran, but a bed. It was enough to drive anyone to despair, let alone a teenager who needed her space. ‘Look, Sophie, I know it’s difficult for you and I really do appreciate …’ Andrea stopped, Sophie’s latest bluff to leave home suddenly ringing alarm bells. ‘What do you mean, “leave home as well?”’
Sophie shrugged, her body language still sullen, but a slight flush to her cheeks.
‘Sophie, as well as who?’ Andrea asked, with supreme patience.
‘Gran,’ Sophie admitted, after a sugar spilling, water sloshing moment. ‘She keeps saying she’s going back to the cottage.’
Andrea’s heart leapt into her mouth, images of her mum wandering along the riverbank springing to mind. ‘She hasn’t tried to, has she?’ she asked worriedly.
‘No, but …’ Sophie glanced at her from under inch-thick mascara, the one all-important accessory she did have, thanks to Sally. ‘… she keeps saying she’s going to. I try to tell her she can’t, but she’s, “Oh, but I can. I’m not staying here.” And then she’s banging on about him doing away with her. And Eva, for Pete’s sake.’
Her inept attempt at tea abandoned, Sophie turned to Andrea, looking now truly exasperated. ‘She’s lost the plot, Mum. I’m worried, you know?’ She shrugged in the way teenagers do when admitting they care about something other than the content of their latest text message.
‘I know. I know you are, sweetie.’ Trying to assimilate, Andrea wrapped an arm around Sophie’s shoulders and pulled her towards her. ‘Of course you are. And I know you’ve probably been worrying about whether to tell me, yes?’
Sophie sniffed and nodded. ‘She keeps trying to pack the holdall off the top of the wardrobe, and she’s got nothing to pack in it apart from her teeth. Then she keeps trying to hide something in case he finds it and … I dunno … murders her or something. She’s gone, Mum. Mind’s officially left the building.’
‘Sophie, in case who finds it?’ Andrea eyed David, now very concerned. ‘David?’
‘No, not David. She’s as smitten with him as you are.’ Sophie shot David another reproachful glance, and then turned back to Andrea. ‘Jonathan. She thinks Jonathan’s turned into a mass murderer or something. That’s what I mean. She’s driving me mental.’
Andrea gulped back a hard lump in her throat and glanced again at David, who looked as thunderstruck as she felt. ‘I’ll check on the kids if you need some space to talk to your mother,’ he offered shakily.
‘Thanks, David.’ Andrea summoned up a smile, though she wasn’t sure she could summon up the energy to deal with another crisis.
‘Sir Galahad rides to the rescue, again,’ Sophie muttered behind them as they headed for the hall.
Andrea’s shoulders sagged. She hesitated, torn between her needy daughter and her equally needy mother.
‘Go on.’ David smiled and nodded, indicating he was willing to risk death by killer look again.
Grateful but weary, Andrea mounted the stairs, and then hesitated, curious as to how David might handle a truculent teenage girl. Also apprehensive as to how Sophie might react.
‘There’s Coke in the fridge, if you’d prefer,’ she heard David offer politely.
‘Got tea,’ was Sophie’s rude response.
‘Right.’ David paused. ‘Well, if it tastes as disgusting as it looks, just help yourself.’
‘Do you mind?’ Sophie sounded affronted. Bad move, thought Andrea.
‘Nope, not as long as I don’t have to drink it,’ David replied smartly.
Andrea could swear she heard Sophie’s humph from the stairs.
‘I thought we’d go and put some posters up,’ David pushed on.
Silence.
‘The boys and I,’ he continued to chat to himself in the absence of comment from Sophie. ‘Fancy joining us?’
More silence, then, ‘What posters?’ Sophie asked, making sure to keep her tone only vaguely interested.
‘Missing dog posters, in the park, shops, anywhere else people might see them. What do you think?’
Yet more silence, then, ‘I didn’t think anyone gave a shit,’ Sophie muttered, then promptly burst into tears.
Oh no. Andrea whirled around to dash back to the kitchen, but stopped herself short of the door when she heard David say, ‘Hey, hey, it’s okay to cry. If grown men can, I’m bloody sure young women can.’