Chapter Twenty-Two

David wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to regret it, however. Having already had to crawl around on his hands and knees trying to entice a quaking Homer from under the sofa, he now watched forlornly as it peed all over the shop floor.

‘Whoops-a-daisy.’ Eva rested her roller on her paint tray and whipped out a cloth. ‘Looks like you’re going to have your hands full, Doctor Adams,’ she said, bending to mop up the puddle.

‘And some,’ David despondently agreed, trying to get his head around how he was going to juggle puppies and babies and house decorating in duplicate, as well as his job and Jake, and then berated himself for allowing Eva to clean up the dog’s mess.

‘Eva, I’ll do it,’ he said, going over to assist her as she straightened up and obviously had another dizzy spell in the process. ‘You know you shouldn’t be overexerting yourself. On which subject, what the hell are you doing here?’

‘Decorating, dear boy,’ Eva informed him as he helped her across to a chair. ‘I’d have thought that was obvious.’

‘But I thought you said the decorators were in, Eva. I didn’t think you meant you were … Oh hell,’ David’s attention was diverted by the dog, who’d now decided on a thorough investigation of the premises.

‘They are,’ Eva said as David went back across the shop to extract Homer from the paint tray. ‘He’s just outside having a tea break. He’s a local man, very reliable and … Ah, here he is now.’

A cigarette break, David deduced she meant, as a man, who looked about as likely to climb up a ladder as fly, hobbled in through the back entrance – one dodgy knee obvious and wheezing like an asthmatic.

‘This is Bob, Hibberton’s local DIY man,’ Eva introduced him, at which Bob coughed heartily, and then limped over to pick up the cuppa he’d obviously forgotten to take out on his ‘tea’ break from the floor.

Unfortunately, the dog got to it first. ‘Homer … Sorry,’ David apologised for his recalcitrant charge and plucked up the dog before it could do any more damage.

‘Not to worry, doctor. We’ve got plenty of teabags, haven’t we, Eva?’ Giving David a smile and Eva a wink, Bob limped over to flick the kettle on, signalling another imminent tea break. ‘Lifeblood,’ he said, over another lung-rattling wheeze.

Yes, and you might need some, David thought despairingly, if you keep sucking on those things.

‘Right, better get on.’ Bob wandered painfully over to a pot of paint. ‘We’ll soon have this place fixed up, hey, Eva?’

David watched as the man struggled to lever the lid from the tin with a screwdriver and doubted very much whether Bob would be fixing anything up any time soon.

‘You’re a one man band then, Bob, are you?’ he ventured to ask, whilst trying to hang on to a wriggling Homer, who was probably very likely to pee all over him.

‘He has an assistant,’ Eva supplied, while Bob caught his breath, and then tried again with the lid. ‘Darren’s not with him today, though, is he, Bob?’

‘Sorry, Eva?’ Bob’s attention was still on his pot.

‘Young Darren, I said he’s not with you today,’ Eva shouted as Bob plucked up his hammer to give the screwdriver a good thwack.

‘No, not today, Eva.’ Bob gave the screwdriver another blow, and then looked mightily pleased with himself as the lid finally popped off. ‘Missus is poorly again, apparently. She’s expecting twins,’ he addressed David. ‘I expect you’ve had the pleasure?’

‘Er …?’

Ignoring what could conceivably be a double entendre, David tried to recall seeing a mum expectant with twins, then almost choked when Eva said drolly, ‘Not yet, no.’

‘Sorry?’ Bob cocked an ear.

‘Nothing.’ Eva gave David an arch look. ‘I was just saying, I don’t think the doctor has got around to all his female patients yet.’

Cheers, Eva. David sighed and eyed the ceiling, which was also in need of painting.

‘Right, well, sitting around here all day won’t get the job done.’ Eva eased herself to her feet, and gave David a vigorous pat on the cheek. ‘Don’t look so worried, Doctor Adams, I know your heart’s in the right place,’ she said, going back to her roller, ‘even if certain other parts of your anatomy tend to go wandering.’

‘Eva …’ David sighed in earnest. It was no more than he deserved, he knew, but he’d really hoped Eva wasn’t a gossipmonger. He’d been counting on her to keep his involvement in the property purchase to herself, at least for now. Buying his way into Andrea’s affections wasn’t on his agenda. He doubted Andrea would be very impressed if she thought he might be. Making sure she and the kids had a decent roof over their heads, in absence of Eden doing anything practical, was.

Eva came back across the shop, roller and tray in hand and a wily look in her eye. ‘He’s hard of hearing,’ she told David.

David glanced at Bob, who with his back towards them seemed oblivious to the conversation, then back to Eva, relieved.

‘Deaf as a post half the time,’ Eva assured him. ‘I stay true to my word, Doctor Adams, worry not.’

David shook his head. How Eden got one over on this woman he had absolutely no idea, though he intended to find out. ‘Eva, it’s you I’m worried about,’ he said, quickly scanning the room for other dog enticing items, before allowing Homer loose on the floor again. ‘You really shouldn’t be doing this. Come on, let me have a go.’

Eva looked down at her roller, then dubiously back to David.

‘I’m a dab hand at DIY,’ David assured her, figuring if he wanted the job done sooner, rather than later, he’d better do it himself.

‘Well, as you’re already covered in paint, I suppose you might as well get stuck in. Here you go.’ Eva smiled and handed him her decorating paraphernalia. ‘We could certainly use another pair of hands.’ Tray in one hand, roller in the other, David glanced down at his blue business suit, which now sported several Homer-sized magnolia paw prints. For Jake’s sake, he counted silently to five and reminded himself why he’d bought into yet another bundle of trouble.

Stepping down from the ladder, David narrowly missed the paint tray but unfortunately found the dog. ‘Damn! Homer, here, boy.’ Righting himself on his feet, he turned for the door and the direction the yelping puppy had skidded in – to see two unimpressed teenagers regarding him coolly.

‘I see you managed to mess up again,’ Ryan commented, bending down to Homer, who, abuse now clearly forgotten, was sniffing excitedly at his trainers.

‘Sorry?’ Furrowing his brow, David surveyed his handiwork, which he didn’t think was that bad, even though he was actually rubbish at DIY.

‘He’s supposed to be black not white,’ Ryan remarked, the tiniest of smirks twitching at his mouth as he pointed the scrambling, paint-covered puppy in Sophie’s direction.

‘Magnolia,’ David corrected him, risking a small smile back. ‘We thought the, er, tenant might prefer neutral, until she decides on a colour scheme.’

‘She?’ Ryan’s expression went quickly back to unimpressed.

‘Aw, he’s gorgeous, aren’t you, hey?’ Sophie picked the puppy up. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Homer,’ David supplied, glancing from Ryan to Sophie then back to Ryan. He wasn’t sure why they were here, but he doubted it was to tell him all was forgiven in their eyes.

‘Hellooo, Homer Adams,’ Sophie cooed, nuzzling the dog and taking a step in. ‘Jake’s just going to love him, isn’t he, baby?’ Smiling, she looked from Homer to David, Miss Moody nowhere in evidence.

‘I hope so.’ David smiled back. ‘You’re still talking to me, then?’ he asked hopefully.

Miss Moody was back in a flash. ‘No,’ Sophie informed him, nose in the air over the dog’s head as she took another step in.

Ryan stayed where he was. ‘Thought this was the shop Mum was interested in.’ His gaze was now two degrees below zero.

David took a breath. ‘That’s right.’

‘But you’ve already got a tenant in?’

‘Er, yes.’ David realised he was digging a hole and was about to drop himself in it. ‘That is …’ He glanced at his paint-spattered shoes, looking for inspiration.

It came, in the form of Eva. ‘I have,’ she said authoritatively, coming through from the washroom at the side of the shop. ‘Your mother,’ she went on, wiping her hands robustly on a paint cloth and handing it to David.

‘I’d already decided to offer her the shop plus accommodation before circumstances meant I had to sell. And, as Doctor Adams isn’t officially the landlord until the sale is complete, he didn’t have a lot of choice, did you?’

‘Not a lot, no.’ David sighed and did his best to look compromised.

‘Right.’ Ryan’s look went from ice cool to reasonably tepid. ‘You’re buying it, then?’

‘He is,’ Eva answered on David’s behalf, fetching her coat and handing it to him.

‘Which is why you’d be decorating it?’ Ryan went on.

‘That’s right. I’m the new decorator’s assistant.’ Glad of an excuse to extract himself from Ryan’s scrutinising gaze, David turned to help Eva into her coat.

‘In magnolia.’

‘Yep,’ David said, giving Eva a grateful smile as he escorted her to the door.

‘Rubbish choice,’ Ryan observed, stepping in as Eva left and glancing around. ‘I’ll ask Mum what colour scheme she wants, seeing as you’re only halfway through, shall I?’

‘No!’ David said quickly. ‘That is. Not yet. It’s just …’

‘You’d rather wait until Eva has actually offered it to her,’ Ryan finished shrewdly.

‘I, er … Ahem.’ Noting the knowing glances exchanged by siblings who’d obviously called a temporary truce in order to call his bluff, David raked his hand helplessly through his hair.

‘So are you going to show us around, then?’ Ryan strolled further in. ‘Before you go and pick Jake up from school?’ He nodded towards the dog still in Sophie’s arms, which actually David couldn’t wait to show Jake.

‘Er, yes. No problem.’ David shook his head, baffled. What just happened there? he wondered. Shouldn’t they be telling him where to stuff his magnolia? Kicking his ladder over, preferably while he was on it? Perhaps they were planning on pushing him out of one of the upstairs windows. Giving them each a curious glance, at which Ryan and Sophie exchanged more knowing glances, he dutifully led the way to the stairs.

‘There’s two storeys, four bedrooms, one of which would easily convert into two, two bathrooms, and a yard out back for Dougal. The fence needs some work, and it could do with a grassed area and a swing, maybe, but it’s pretty ideal overall, I’d say.’

‘Cool,’ Sophie said, dumping Homer back into David’s arms and scooting on up before them and then calling down, ‘Mine’s the attic room.’

‘And the price is right?’ Ryan paused before going up. ‘As in Mum will be able to afford it?’ he asked, the emphasis on Mum, David noted.

‘Dead right,’ he assured him, then spat out Homer’s tongue.

‘Minty.’ Ryan nodded and went on up.

Did that mean he’d got some kind of tacit approval? David wondered, dog in arms as he followed him.

‘Oh, by the way, Mum’s in school today. Just so you know,’ Ryan said, hands casually in pockets, which were about thigh level, ‘if you’re out to try and impress her, your dog just pissed all over your shirt.’

‘Are you okay?’ Andrea tried again to have a quick word with Sally, before she went home. The woman had avoided her all day like the plague. Whatever had happened between David and her, a moment of total insanity on Andrea’s part, it was over. And Sally couldn’t possibly know anything had actually happened. As far as Sally knew, she’d stayed with the man, that was all. She’d had no designs on David when she’d been forced to move in with him, Sally must realise that. Surely, for the sake of their friendship, they could get past this and move on.

Sally continued to tug on her coat. ‘Yes, fine,’ she said shortly, without even glancing at Andrea.

‘Sally …’ Andrea walked over to lend her a hand. With the coat sleeve inside out, Sally would be hard pushed to stuff her arm furiously in it, which she seemed intent on doing. ‘Can’t we at least talk?’ she asked, fishing the sleeve from inside the coat, before Sally tied herself in a knot.

Sally didn’t answer for a moment, then, ‘I assumed you didn’t want to speak to me,’ she said, at last meeting Andrea’s eyes. Hers weren’t over friendly, Andrea noticed.

‘But why?’ Andrea scanned Sally’s face, puzzled. ‘I stayed with David for a few days, Sally. That’s all,’ she lied, not sure why she was on the defensive. Guilt, she supposed. She was still struggling to say his name without a pang of that, along with a good dollop of heartache. ‘It’s not like we were living together.’

Sally humphed, audibly.

Andrea chose to ignore it. ‘Look, Sally, this thing with David and you, the fact that you and he … Well, I wish I’d known, I wish you felt you could have confided in me, but, whatever, I’m perfectly fine with it.’

‘Very magnanimous, I’m sure,’ Sally huffed, and turned to unhook her scarf from the stand.

Andrea shook her head, not sure she was getting the subliminal message. ‘Sally, why wouldn’t I be?’

Sally turned back, glancing past her to check there were no ears flapping in the staff room, presumably. ‘Why indeed,’ she said accusatorily.

Andrea decided she must be having a very dense day, possibly because of the lumpy Travelodge mattress, being woken in the night by a fretful Chloe and Dee’s incessant snoring, but she really wasn’t getting it at all. ‘You’re going to have to help me along here, Sally.’ Andrea parked herself wearily on the edge of a chair. ‘Because I’m really not sure what I’m supposed to have done.’

‘Hah!’ Sally threw the end of her scarf over her shoulder. ‘Obviously nothing,’ she said, so facetiously Andrea felt her cheeks blush.

‘That’s right, nothing,’ she stated emphatically, whilst trying very hard to maintain eye contact.

‘Oh yes, of course.’ Sally folded her arms. ‘So why did you look so bloody shocked then, Andrea, when you found out the baby was David’s?’

Andrea gulped back another stab of pain. ‘Because I was shocked, Sally. You hadn’t told me. David hadn’t said a word. You caught me unaware—’

‘And why pack up and leave immediately you did find out?’

‘Because …’ Andrea fumbled for a way to explain what obviously was a very sudden departure, particularly as she’d had nowhere to depart to ‘… with a baby on the way I thought David and you might need some space. Three’s a crowd, after all, isn’t—’

‘Precisely!’ Sally spat, her tone now almost venomous. ‘I saw the way he was looking … You were looking at him. I saw the furtive glances and the lovey-dovey, touchy-feely body language between you two, Andrea. I’m not stupid.’

Andrea stared at her, bewildered, and then glanced down. ‘I never thought you were.’

‘You’ve already got a man,’ Sally went on angrily. ‘You have three children, Andrea! And then you move in on David before I’ve even had a chance to talk to him.’

‘I didn’t know,’ Andrea tucked her hands under her thighs. ‘You didn’t tell me.’

‘I wasn’t here! I didn’t know David was here. And when I did, I couldn’t get a look in!’

Silence then, very profound silence.

‘I wasn’t moving in on him, Sally. What you thought you saw …’ Andrea glanced up, needing Sally to believe she wouldn’t deliberately do anything to hurt her. She’d leave the county if it meant that Sally could have her baby happily and safely. But she’d much rather stay and be here for her. ‘It wasn’t what you thought. There’s nothing between David and me.’

Sally breathed deeply. ‘No?’

‘No.’ Andrea held her gaze. Her heart felt like it might break, but that was her cross to bear. She made a mental promise to herself. She wouldn’t do anything that might cause Sally further pain. ‘Can we stay friends?’

Sally’s gaze faltered, and then she glanced away. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, her eyes flicking briefly back to Andrea’s, before she turned for the door. ‘I have to go to the shops. David’s coming over later.’

‘Right.’ Andrea tucked her hands further under her thighs as Sally closed the door without saying goodbye. She had her answer, she supposed. Sitting in the staffroom crying like a schoolgirl wouldn’t do though, would it? She wiped the stubborn tears away.

Well, she’d tried, but it was obvious her friendship with Sally had cooled to the point of non-existent, all thanks to the enigmatic Doctor Adams who was currently once again attracting the attention of every female in the playground and had probably charmed the birds from the trees on his way there.

Andrea couldn’t help but smile, though, as a jubilant, whooping Jake finally stood still long enough for David to pour the puppy into his arms. It really was a sight to melt hearts. The look on David’s face certainly was as he watched his son laughing and giggling as a ten-year-old should. Getting Jake a dog had been exactly the right thing to do. David had finally managed to impress his son, Andrea had to concede, even if he hadn’t managed to do the same regarding the women in his life.

Andrea just hoped he’d do the right thing by Sally and the child she was carrying. His child. Swallowing back the hurt that settled like a stone in her chest, Andrea decided she should go and speak to him, for Jake’s sake. Whatever the circumstances between them, Jake had suffered enough loss in his life. He’d be bewildered if the new friends he’d found suddenly abandoned him – and Andrea counted herself as one of those friends.

David looked tired, she noted as she neared him, but still breathtakingly handsome. That hint of stubble evident on his chin, which definitely looked sexy on him, his black overcoat complementing his broody looks and dark colouring. Paint in his hair, she noticed, and on his shoes, lending him a dishevelled appearance which would have a woman’s nurturing instinct caving in in an instant. Andrea wished she’d never set eyes on him. That she’d never come to know the person behind the aloofness she’d first encountered; never fallen in love with him.

‘Man done good,’ she said lightly, nodding approvingly at Jake as she walked towards him, who was now excitedly showing his new puppy off to his classmates.

His attention on Jake, David looked startled as she spoke. He glanced at her anxiously for a second, and then smiled uncertainly. ‘Hi,’ he said.

‘Hi,’ Andrea said, at the exact same time. ‘Sorry,’ they both said together.

‘So, how are you?’ he asked, after an awkward pause.

‘Ooh, you know, wonderful,’ Andrea lied blatantly, which had what she supposed was the desired effect. David dropped his gaze immediately. ‘Better for seeing Jake so obviously thrilled, though. Really. Well done, David.’ Andrea softened the sarcasm. After all, what good would it do?

David glanced back up and smiled. ‘Ryan’s idea,’ he admitted, with a self-effacing shrug. ‘I didn’t have a lot of choice really, between the two of them.’

Andrea laughed. ‘No,’ she said. ‘They have a way of getting their own way, don’t they?’

‘And some.’ David smiled, a little more easily this time.

‘So, how are things?’ Andrea asked, wondering how on earth they could ever have a conversation again without the obvious subject coming up.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Well, you know.’ An awkward shrug this time. ‘As well as it can be.’

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Shouldn’t you be at the surgery?’ she asked him, for the want of something else to say.

‘I mentioned I might need some flexibility the first few weeks, just in case of emergencies, you know. I, er, figured under the circumstances getting Jake his dog qualified as one.’ David glanced down again, then back.

‘Good idea.’ Andrea nodded – and then decided that the stilted conversation around the obvious elephant in the room was not only ridiculous, but far too painful. They’d been laughing together a short while ago. Couldn’t they at least talk?

Steeling herself she tugged in a breath, then, ‘How’s things with Sally?’ she asked, trying for casual – and failing.

David ran a hand over his neck. ‘I haven’t spoken to her yet,’ he said, now not quite able to meet her gaze. ‘I’m seeing her shortly, while Ryan’s, er …’ he trailed off obviously embarrassed by the realisation that her child would be looking after his child while he discussed his yet to be born child with Sally.

Andrea nodded, and forced a smile. ‘You should,’ she said quietly.

‘And Jonathan? How’s he?’ David asked. ‘Busy, I imagine.’

Andrea looked at him and debated. Should she confide? She could say he was fine. Should, probably, but then David already knew everything was far from fine between them. ‘Truthfully, I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘We haven’t really talked yet either.’

‘Look, Andrea, can we talk?’ David glanced towards Jake, still revelling in the midst of all the enthusiastic attention. ‘Please?’ he added, when Andrea looked doubtful.

Andrea studied him for a second and then relented. It would probably be the last private conversation they had. But not in the staffroom, behind closed doors where it might be construed as some sort of secret liaison. In relative public she thought might be best. She nodded and turned towards the main entrance, where everyone had mostly vacated the building. ‘We can keep an eye on Jake from here,’ she said, swinging the door open to allow David inside.

‘Well?’ She turned to face him, and waited.

David raked his hand through his hair, indicating he was nervous, or tense, frustrated or angry, possibly all of those things. She’d learned to read the signs. ‘You do need to talk to Jonathan, Andrea,’ he started, ‘and soon.’ His tone was firm, almost as if he was issuing an instruction. Andrea blinked at him, confused, and then just the tiniest bit miffed. No, a lot miffed actually.

‘I am,’ she said, gauging him carefully. ‘We’re meeting, tonight, as it happens, but I’m not sure that’s any of your business, David. Not any more.’

David nodded, and shrugged, and then obviously decided it was his business. ‘Something’s not right, Andrea. Seriously not right. You need to ask him some questions, trust me. This thing with Dee—’

‘Oh, not again.’ Andrea sighed despairingly. ‘David, this really is none of your concern. I’m not sure it ever was.’

‘Andrea, there are things you need to know. Things he’s not telling you. Please hear me—’

‘Things he’s not telling me?’ Andrea stared at him, astounded. ‘David, I have no idea what this is all about, but whatever it is, I’ve heard enough. Don’t you think you should be concentrating on your relationship with Sally, rather than trying to find reasons to interfere in other peoples’ lives?’

Things Jonathan wasn’t telling her? Well, that just really did take the biscuit, didn’t it? What on earth was wrong with the man? Shaking her head, Andrea turned to huff off, leaving David raking that hand through his hair, frustrated, obviously, that he hadn’t succeeded in totally rubbishing Jonathan in her eyes. Perhaps she should let David know that he didn’t need to expend quite so much energy on his efforts. Jonathan was already doing a perfectly good job of that for himself.