7

Bev knocked on the door, forget-me-nots in hand. It was five thirty in the morning and he’d promised Jude he’d drive her to work.

Jude opened the door. “Good morning.” Her smile lit the grey day.

“Hello. These are for you.”

She took the flowers and grinned. “Does your gran have any left in her garden?”

“Masses of them.” He took in a deep breath, the familiar aroma filling his nostrils. “Is that coffee I smell?”

She chuckled. “Creature of habit, aren’t you? Mug of coffee freshly made on the work top for you.” She locked the door behind him and followed him down the hallway.

“Did you call your friend when we got back?”

“Yeah. She said to write everything down, keep a diary so to speak. I’m not sure that will do any good.”

“It will be when they catch the bloke, trust me.” He picked up the mug and took a long swallow. He’d also reported being followed and the car in the car park the previous evening. “As the lads would say, ‘eee by gum ye make good coffee, girl.’” He watched Jude put the flowers in water. “I was talking to Gran about the house last night. She suggested it might be an idea to decorate and modernize this place.”

Her face fell. “Oh. Is…is she thinking of selling?”

Bev hesitated. Maybe he should tell her the truth behind her landlady or rather, landlord, but something held him back from doing so. “There are no plans to do so, no, but she suggested putting in a modern kitchen and bathroom and redecorate everything. I figured I’d go out today and buy paint and paper and organize the new cupboards and so on. I’m hoping to do most of the papering and painting while I’m on leave.”

“I can decorate,” she said quietly. “Dad taught me. Actually he’s a kitchen fitter so if you wanted…”

“You can help,” he told her. “And if you’ve got his number, I’ll give him a call.”

He took the card she offered and finished his coffee. “So I’ll come back here after I’ve dropped you off and measure up and so on. Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Jude remained silent in the car and barely said goodbye as he dropped her off.

Bev went back to the house. He let himself in with the spare keys and spent a couple of hours measuring each room and working out how much paper he’d need. He also wanted to replace the carpets. He knew exactly what he wanted to do to the house, but he’d give Jude a say over the colors. There was no point painting something green if she hated green, and she did live here after all. It may be his house, but until he actually left the army, there was no point in him choosing the décor.

He locked up and headed back home. He hung up his jacket and went through to the kitchen to find Gran. As always, she was up to her elbows in flour, making cakes and bread.

“How did she take it?” Gran asked.

Bev rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t happy. She asked if you’re planning on selling it.”

“Didn’t you tell her you’re the real owner?”

“No, it didn’t seem right. Besides, I’m not planning on selling it, you know that. She gave me this.” He handed over the card. “Her father fits kitchens for a living by all accounts.”

“Thank you. Do you want me to give him a call now?”

“Please.” Bev nodded. “I’ll go for a run. Be about an hour or so.”

Gran smiled. “OK, dear. Take your keys because I have my art class this morning and need the car.”

He grinned. Gran had taken up art after Gramps died, and she’d discovered a talent for it. Several of her pictures hung on the walls, including his favorite of a kingfisher. He kissed her cheek. “Have fun. See you later.”

~*~

Jude glared at the paperwork. The figures were once again mocking her. She was making stupid mistake after stupid mistake because her mind was elsewhere. Modernizing the house could mean only one thing. Mrs. Bowen would be selling Jude’s home from under her. Or increase the rent to cover the renovations. Or both.

Yes, the place desperately needed it. The bathroom, though functional, was pre-war with the cistern half way up the wall. The heating was plug in oil filled heaters or a gas fire in the lounge. The kitchen had a free standing gas stove and a stone sink in the corner. But she loved it.

There was no way she could afford a rent raise. Or a mortgage. Every spare penny she had went back into the bakery. Is this Your way of telling me it’s time to move on, Lord? Sell the shop and go and do something else with my life?

Kate tapped on the door. “I’m off, Jude. See you tomorrow.”

Jude nodded. “I’ll be here. Is everything off?”

“Yup. Night.”

“Night.” Jude looked back down at the book, forcing her mind to concentrate. She managed for about ten seconds before she heard Bev’s voice in the shop. She pushed upright and went to the doorway. “Hello. I wasn’t expecting you just yet.”

“I’m early, yes, but I need to take you shopping.”

Jude tilted her head. “For…”

“Paint and paper,” he said, a smile crossing his face. “You ought to get some say in what color I decorate the house as you live there.”

For now. “I can’t tonight. There’s too much to do here. The paperwork is mounting up.”

“Oh.” Disappointment crossed his face. “OK. Ummm, well what colors should I avoid?”

“I like most stuff, but don’t really want the bedroom dark red.”

“OK. I want to start tomorrow with the lounge. We’ve arranged for your dad to give us a quote for the kitchen, so he’ll be up tomorrow at some point to do that as well. And Elliott Wallac from church will come and give us a quote for the bathroom and heating.” He paused. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

She nodded.

Bev took her hand. “What’s wrong? You look so sad. Almost as if your heart is breaking, and I can’t have that.”

“I can’t afford a rent increase,” she said honestly. There wasn’t any point in sugar coating it, or avoiding the issue. “Your gran is about to pour thousands of pounds into the house, and I know it needs it and has done for a long time, along with heating. She’ll either want to sell the place or hike the rent to recoup the money. I can’t afford either, so, no. Thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to go and chose the décor for a house that won’t be my home for much longer.”

Bev’s face was a picture as conflicting emotions covered it in a rapid succession. “Now, hold on a moment. Even if Gran did want to sell, which I know for a fact she doesn’t, then how do you know the new owner wouldn’t allow the sitting tenant to stay?”

“Would you if it were your house?”

He hesitated before answering. “If I were still in the army, then yes. It depends where I was based, but being the unit CO and single, it’s far easier to live on the base. Besides which, I can be deployed for up to nine months at a time. That’s a long time to leave a house sitting empty. So please, come with me?”

She sighed. She wanted to spend the time with him, but the accounts needed doing. “I can’t. I have a pile of work to do before I can leave.”

“Then how about I pick you up on my way home and we’ll have pizza delivered. It’ll save you walking and cooking.”

She smiled. “That would be good, thank you.” She saw him out and deadlocked the door behind him. Flicking off the lights, she headed back into the office, leaving the door ajar so she’d see him when he came back.

~*~

Bev loaded the rolls of paper and tins of paint into the car. He hoped Jude would like the ones he’d picked. Blue for the bathroom, green for the kitchen, yellow, pink, and lilac for the bedrooms and cream for the lounge; along with a very pale coffee for the hall, landing and stairs. He’d even picked up suggestions for flooring and would insist she at least chose that. It’d most likely need changing ten years down the line anyway.

He drove towards the bakery, debating whether or not to order the pizza when he parked, so it’d be delivered shortly after they arrived back at the house. That was probably the best idea. He knew what Jude liked as they’d had pizza before so if he got two individual ones, they could have half of each one.

He turned into the corner to find a glow coming from the end of the street. Fear gnawed his stomach and he put his foot down.

Flames shot from the front of the bakery. Bev screeched to a halt, jumping from the car almost before the engine had finished shutting down. A small crowd stood outside.

“Has anyone called 999?” he yelled.

“On the way.”

“What about Jude? I left her in there.” He moved towards the door.

Someone grabbed him. “Let the fire brigade—”

He shook free. “No time.” He kicked the door in, a blast of heat hitting him in the face. Raising an arm over his eyes, he plunged into the flames. “Jude!”