The Recipe for Happiness, page 7
‘Lovely bit of chicken, that.’ Tom patted his stomach, in a satisfied way. ‘Nice crunchy roasties too.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ Jim mumbled. ‘Can’t be dealing with crunchy, not with my top set. But I did like the sticky toffee pudding, Seren, m’dear. Best I’ve ever had.’
‘Gosh, thanks, chaps,’ I said. It wasn’t like them to offer compliments, or, indeed, any remarks about the edibility of my cooking, so it must have been good. ‘I didn’t do anything unusual today, just cooked the same as normal.’
‘Your cooking is always superb,’ Tom said firmly. He and Jim exchanged a glance. ‘We just don’t always tell you.’
I noted the look. ‘So, why are you telling me now?’
Another look, and Jim muttered something into his shirt front. I raised my eyebrows. ‘Ned said we should appreciate you more,’ Tom said, eventually, going a bit pink around the ears.
‘Did he?’ I didn’t know how to feel about that. I thought I felt a touch patronised, but wasn’t sure. Was them telling me they liked my cooking because Ned had told them to any better or worse than them saying it without encouragement? I mean, they liked my cooking. Obviously. The clean plates and second helpings were the giveaway there, and did I need them to say it out loud, especially just because Ned had told them I needed appreciation?
But underneath these feelings there ran a tiny warm undercurrent of satisfaction.
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a small dinner, Mimi?’ I asked the ramrod-straight figure gazing out of the window again as though the lifeboat were inching closer to the sinking ship. ‘I could plate you up something for you to take home?’
She didn’t even look in my direction, just shook her head slightly.
‘Ah, leave the old misery be,’ John said. ‘If she don’t want to be a part of all this, that’s up to her.’
‘Shhh.’ Grace put a hand on his arm. ‘I’m sure Mimi has her reasons. You don’t have to involve yourself in them if you don’t want to.’
Tom bridled at the physical contact. I saw him look pointedly at Grace’s hand, still on John’s sleeve, with his lips practically inside his mouth, and I sighed inwardly. He hadn’t quite got the message that his romantic interest in Grace didn’t make her his property, and I wondered again about his late wife and the life she must have had.
Before pistols at dawn were called for, I broke up the potential love triangle with the tea tray before handing round the post-prandial teas and coffees, then dashing back up the stairs out of the kitchen to my flat. Kez was paddling around in the entranceway with a slightly impatient look.
‘I can’t take you out at the moment,’ I said, pleadingly, into those light brown eyes. ‘I don’t want anyone to see that you’re up here.’
Kez sat on my foot and gazed up at me, as though trying to will me to understand his problem. Understanding it wasn’t the issue, alleviating it was, and I didn’t know how to ask him to hold on a bit longer.
I gave him a treat and closed the door, tiptoeing back down just in case someone was hovering about outside the kitchen door listening for me. I had no idea why this would be a problem, because I was quite entitled to go up to my own flat during the day, but a raging case of guilt about the secret dog was clearly making me sensitive.
Ned was in the kitchen, making himself a coffee. ‘Everything all right?’ he asked, looking up at the ceiling in a questioning way, although what else he could have meant I had no idea.
‘He’s a bit… cross-legged,’ I said. ‘But everyone will notice if I take him out.’
‘I could provide a distraction if you like.’ Ned’s coffee was clearly very, very strong. I could smell it all the way across the kitchen. ‘Keep their attention for long enough for you to go out and back for five minutes and let Kez have a wee. I can tell them you’ve popped out for milk or something, if they ask.’
I shook my head. ‘They know I don’t go out.’
‘What, never?’ The coffee cup hung, suspended by doubt, midway to Ned’s mouth. ‘You were out this morning, though, when I met you.’
‘Oh, not never, obviously not. I mean, I shop and I go over to Andrew and Greg’s, and I went up to Appleton…’ I trailed off. The Appleton outing was the entire reason for my current predicament, and Andrew was going to hear all about the position he’d put me in. ‘But not casually,’ I finished with, I thought, commendable brevity.
‘Any particular reason?’
‘No. And thank you for telling the clients that they should appreciate what I do, but I’m not sure I like them being guilted into saying so.’ I thought changing the subject was probably for the best here.
Ned’s eyebrows rose over the coffee mug. ‘Oh? I’m not sure I “guilted” them, whatever you mean by that.’ He swallowed a couple of times. ‘But I did notice that some of them can have a tendency to assume we’re here to serve them – a touch of “I pay your wages” syndrome, I call it. And I thought a little bit of valuing what we do here wouldn’t do them any harm. Would you like me to take him?’
‘What?’ I was genuinely nonplussed. ‘Take who?’
‘Kez. The dog.’ Ned jerked his chin at the ceiling. ‘I’m not doing much at the moment other than letting Timothy throw his vocabulary at me and listening to Harry and Will argue about the undercarriage of the B-17 or something. They can spare me for a few minutes.’
I instantly felt sorry for accusing him of forcing the clientele to like my cooking. ‘Oh. Oh, yes, please, would you?’
‘Seren!’ It was Joe from the other room. ‘You said you’d give me a rematch.’
‘Just coming!’ I called back, and then, speaking quickly, ‘The door’s not locked. Right at the end of the passage. His lead is on the table. Just go down the main stairs at the far end, out of the front door, shove him back in when you’re done and shut the door.’
‘You don’t lock your door?’ Ned looked astonished through the coffee-scented steam.
‘This isn’t London. The outer doors are locked after hours, and anyone coming in during opening times would be quizzed to death about their intentions by the Neighbourhood Watch.’ I nodded towards the hall. ‘Besides, there’s a dog up there.’
‘True. You go and sort out Joe’s Scrabble addiction, I’ll take Kez for a quick romp.’ Ned put the cup down. ‘I’ve missed having a dog. I’ve not had one since I was a child.’
‘Couldn’t you have had one? People have dogs in London.’ I was really trying to find out whether it had been circumstance, or prison, that had prevented him from pet owning. Ned’s background was very much an enigma wrapped in a photography distraction.
‘I was too busy,’ he said. ‘Not home enough.’
Well, that didn’t really stop my wonderings. He could have been away from home for any number of reasons, and prison was still up there as my number one theory. Ned had a ‘careful’ kind of way with him, alongside the clean-but-scruffy appearance. As though he watched what he said all the time – maybe afraid of saying the wrong thing to the wrong person? I didn’t really know much about life inside, apart from the occasional sensational news report or TV drama. But there had to be a reason for his watchfulness, his seeming to be processing everything really, really quickly, in case a reaction was needed. Like Kez.
‘Where did Ned go?’ Will and Harry were waiting for me as soon as I went back through. ‘He said he was just going for a coffee.’
‘He’s… um… got one or two things to do around the place,’ I replied, factually correctly. ‘I’m sure he’ll catch up with you again later.’
‘Oh. All right, then.’ Will went off to check the bookshelves, presumably in case we’d suddenly acquired a set of Jane’s All the World’s Aircraft, and Harry, looking annoyed at the ending of their squabble, sat next to Grace and tried to engage her in conversation, oblivious to Tom’s eye-daggers thrown from across the room.
Joe was sitting by the table. ‘Shall I get the board out, then?’ I asked.
‘Gone off the idea now.’ Joe sounded a bit short, which wasn’t like him. ‘Maybe I should take up knitting, like the lasses.’
Margaret’s knitting had nearly filled her container with little fairies, dragonflies and one or two unicorns. Margaret knew her market.
‘Can you knit?’
Joe laughed, rather wheezily. ‘Course I can knit! Your generation didn’t invent girls doing men’s jobs and vice versa, you know. I can darn a sock too, not that that’s any use these days. Learned in the army.’
Out of the window I saw Ned and Kez strolling across the car park in the sunshine. Only Mimi was looking in that direction, and she didn’t react to the sight of the pair. Kez was trotting beside Ned happily enough, pausing to sniff at lampposts and gutters, and it looked as though Ned was talking to the dog as they went.
When I heard the gentle door-close of their return, I made my excuses and went back into the kitchen. The aged and reluctant dishwasher had finished and puffed out steam when I opened it, but Ned had done a good job on the shelves. They slid out for unloading without difficulty. When he came down the stairs from my flat, having put Kez back, I thanked him.
‘Well, it is my job.’ He looked a bit embarrassed, running his hands through his hair so that the disturbed parting now looked downright hysterical. ‘Thanks for letting me take Kez out. I’ll do it again in the week if you like. Tomorrow you’ll be able to take him yourself, won’t you, with us being closed?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Where did I know, apart from the field, that I could take Kez? Would he get bored if I always took him to the same place? I’d have to get up extra early so nobody else was there to confuse me – could I take him there twice?
My expression must have looked grim, because Ned gave me a sympathetic smile. ‘Look. I’ll be in tomorrow, why don’t we take him out together? I know a few nice spots, places I go to take pictures, where he can have a good gallop, and you won’t be on your own – does that make things better? Not being on your own somewhere new?’
He was smiling, head cocked and his hair still standing at improbable angles. Friendly, open. But still, underneath, a stranger. Would a trip out be a nice gallivant into the countryside or the prelude to me being chopped up and distributed in bin-liner bags around the county?
‘OK, your hesitation leads me to believe that you aren’t overwhelmed with enthusiasm.’ Ned headed for the door. ‘It’s fine. Just a thought.’
What was more terrifying, really? The thought of having to take Kez somewhere on my own, or a day trip with a possible murderer? ‘I don’t know you,’ I said, and my voice sounded small, as though I were a five-year-old being asked to go and see some puppies.
He gave a small cough, a sound of surprised realisation. ‘I’m sorry. Of course you don’t. Just because I know I’m perfectly – no, not reliable, that’s the wrong word – perfectly unlikely to cause you any harm if I can possibly prevent it, it’s not a supposition any woman could or should make. I’m really sorry to be so thoughtless, Seren.’
He went out into the conversation-filled room beyond, without another word, and I felt the steam from the dishwasher drying my skin into hot tightness. It would have been nice to have had company to walk Kez, Ned was right. I wasn’t so afraid when someone was with me, even if I was driving somewhere different, almost as though the presence of another person meant that getting lost or having to deal with crowds of unknown people wouldn’t happen. And, if it did, there was someone else to deal with it. I could hide in the car or behind a tree, and someone else would sort out getting home. Was I desperate enough not to feel scared of the outdoors that I would possibly put myself in danger?
‘Please would you come with me tomorrow?’ I cornered Ned in the corridor. I’d waited until he left the room to escort John and his shuffle-walker to the toilet, because I didn’t want to give any of our clients any gossip fuel. If they’d saw me having ‘a private word’ with Ned, the vacuum caused by the indrawn breath would have slammed every door in the building.
He leaned against the wall. He had to wait for John to come back out because the walker didn’t negotiate the slippery lino floor very well, and the combination of shuffle and slide could precipitate the less mobile at a faster-than-wise speed. ‘You’ve changed your mind?’
‘Apparently,’ I said tartly. ‘It happens.’
‘Wow.’
‘Why is it so surprising?’ We were conducting the conversation in hushed whispers. I was very well aware that John was probably trying to listen, and hoped that negotiating the facilities was preventing him from hearing.
‘You always give the impression of being…’ Ned made circular motions with one hand, as though searching for a word.
‘Rotary?’ I still sounded sarcastic and I didn’t mean to, so I smiled to take the sting from my tone.
Ned smiled back. This was the first time I’d seen him smile so broadly; it stopped him looking quite so intense and made his face open out into a pleasant friendliness. ‘Definite. Immutable.’
‘You make me sound like a geological era.’
‘I’ll be over at nine. If it makes you feel better, we can take two cars, you can follow me. Is that all right?’
‘Will you two stop flirting out there and let me come out of this damn toilet?’ John’s testy tones echoed from behind the door. ‘I don’t want to interrupt, but I’ve done everything I can legitimately do in here. I’m going to need to go again if you don’t get a shift on.’
I gave Ned a silent nod and fled back to the kitchen, where I hid until the gossip died down.
‘I mean, you’d defend me, wouldn’t you?’ I asked Kez when I went to check on him later. ‘You wouldn’t let some man murder me? Oh, this is ridiculous, it’s Ned, and now the entire group knows that we’re planning a day out together tomorrow, if anything did happen they would be over at his house like the Avengers. Probably. Although more slowly and with less Lycra.’
Kez’s tail waved a plumed acknowledgement. His ears went up and down, then folded flat to his head and gave him the sleek look of a seal.
‘And you do need a good run out. I wonder why I haven’t heard from Mattie yet. She must have found a place to take you by now.’
Ears up, ears down. And now, a cocked head to contend with.
‘It’s all right, you aren’t meant to understand what I’m talking about,’ I reassured the collie, who had also gained a small wrinkle between his eyes, making his white-flashed face look worried. ‘Just stay here and stay quiet. Only another hour until we close up, and then I’ll let you go out again.’
At the word ‘out’ the ears came up and stayed up, but my leaving him caused a flop of disappointment, and I left Kez lying in the hallway, disillusioned and with his head on his paws.
This was no way for him to live, I thought, going down the main, lino-staired route to downstairs. A tiny flat, just big enough for one person, if that person didn’t want to collect anything other than dust; there was no room for hobbies. A reluctant visitor to the outside world, who preferred the safety and security of indoors. And now, a Border collie, with a body like a coiled spring and the intellect to dash downstairs and complete all the crosswords. It was a situation that couldn’t continue. I made a mental note to text Mattie and tell her.
Holly was in the hall when I came in, gathering everyone around her like moss accreting around a gigantic boulder.
‘So, we’ll begin setting up at nine,’ she was saying. ‘The band will be here by twelve, we’ll do a sort of opening ceremony thing, and then have the stalls doing business whilst the band plays.’ She put the back of her hand to her forehead, like a Victorian heroine, mid-vapour. ‘Oh dear, I didn’t account for rain. Is it likely to rain?’
‘If it does, it’ll be torrential,’ John said, happily the bearer of bad news. ‘Thunder showers and all.’
‘Well then, maybe we’ll keep the hall unlocked. Then if it rains we can just move everything indoors.’
Great, I thought. That means that, not only have I got to bake like a demon, I’ll have to give this place a really good clean-out too. I might even have to dust the pictures.
‘Where’s Ned?’ Holly went on, beginning a general gyration of worry. ‘Ah, there you are. Ned, I think we might need to give this outside courtyard a bit of a clean-up so we can set the tables up out there.’
‘I’m coming over tomorrow to make a start.’ Ned was sorting some jigsaws in the corner, I saw now.
‘Tomorrow?’ Holly sounded shocked. ‘But it’s Sunday!’
‘It’s all right, moving the geraniums isn’t against my religion.’ Ned wasn’t looking at her. ‘I’ve got a few other bits that need doing and I can only do when the hall is empty.’ Now he raised his head from the Record Breaking Mallard and Thatched Cottages at Dusk, which comprised our jigsaw collection, as though anything more exciting might be too much for our customers. He met my eye and winked.
I widened my eyes in warning.
‘The leg is loose on one of these chairs,’ he went on smoothly. ‘I thought I’d get it sorted, rather than come back one evening and do it. As I’ll be in town anyway.’
‘Oh. Fine. As long as it doesn’t go down as overtime. I must say, you do seem happy to put in these extra hours.’
Ned almost flinched. It was a strange movement, a twitch of the shoulders as though he’d been hit on the spine. ‘I… like being here,’ he said, eventually.
‘Fair enough.’ Now Holly was back to addressing her acolytes. ‘Margaret, you said you’d run the handicrafts stall, yes?’
