The Bedroom Window, page 2
‘Nope. Nothing there,’ Neil says, looking away.
‘Must be a trick of the light,’ I murmur, squinting my eyes.
‘It’s a cool place,’ Albie says. ‘Wish we were going to live in that house instead of this one.’
Neil ruffles his hair. ‘The cottage is part of our fresh start, buddy. We’re coastal folks now, remember.’
We all laugh. It’s a good answer, a great attitude.
TWO
After a bit of a tussle with the awkward lock, Neil manages to open the cottage door. Albie ducks under his arm and is first inside and Neil ushers me through before him.
Inside the cottage, I brace myself for a musty odour and a draughty interior, fully expecting the damp stonework to have seeped through into the bones of the house. But the hallway is clean and dry. It looks like the original terracotta floor tiles under my feet, and cream walls set the warm colour off perfectly. Further inside, I’m delighted to find a log burner in the small lounge with its low ceiling and adorable wonky beams. I can just imagine how cosy this room will be in winter with a roaring fire and the three of us snuggled up against the weather.
‘It’s so quaint in here,’ I murmur, taking in the charmingly mismatched three-piece suite. A chunky woven blanket is draped artfully over the arm of the chair and the shelving in the two slim alcoves either side of the burner are full of well-used books.
Albie darts forward and snatches up what looks like a homemade chocolate cookie. ‘Are these for us, Mum? I’m starving!’ His eyes pop when he spots a PlayStation and several games. ‘Cool!’ He bounds over to inspect them, leaving a trail of biscuit crumbs in his wake.
Someone has gone to great lengths to ensure a welcoming scene on our arrival and I feel touched and pleased. If this is anything to go by, Ted and Neeta Williams will be dream employers and neighbours.
I slip back out into the hallway and into the kitchen. As I’d expected, it’s small, but the space has been well-used with pale-lemon compact handmade cabinets, a fold-down table and lots of open shelving. Copper saucepans and other classic culinary equipment hang from hooks in the ceiling and the leaf-green painted walls, giving the room a slightly cluttered but homely appeal.
I spot canisters containing small amounts of teabags, coffee and sugar. ‘How thoughtful.’
‘There’s milk, orange juice and bottled water, too,’ Neil says approvingly, as he closes the refrigerator door. He opens a cupboard. ‘A wholemeal loaf in here as well.’
‘Wow!’ Albie gasps when I pull up the blind. We all stand stock still for a few moments, taking in the stunning view framed by the kitsch curtains. The idyllic scene stretches right down the hillside to the beach and sea beyond.
‘OK, so I won’t be complaining when I’m peeling spuds at this sink,’ Neil says. ‘We don’t get this good a view when we pay for one on holiday!’
I feel a pinch of regret that we haven’t been away since before the accident.
‘Can we see my room now?’ Albie springs out of the door, charging upstairs. ‘I hope it’s bigger than my crummy old one,’ he calls back.
It’s true. The rooms in our terraced house in Nottingham were all a bit cramped. Albie has always dreamed of having a gaming chair in his bedroom but there wasn’t any space for that.
‘I don’t think there’s that much Albie will miss about our last house.’ Neil grins as we follow him up the narrow flight of stairs that hugs the wall from the hallway up to a tiny landing with four doors leading off. Neil opens the door closest to him. ‘Hot water tank,’ he says before closing it again.
‘Can this be my room?’ Albie calls from the next door down and I hope he hasn’t wandered into the master bedroom by mistake.
I needn’t have worried. This is Albie’s bedroom with its neat single bed with a new, plastic-wrapped mattress, a small wooden wardrobe, and a mahogany chest of drawers. I look out of the small window and see he’s got a fabulous view of the beach and sea – probably an even better view than the kitchen. I punch my hands onto my hips. ‘Hey, how come you get the best bedroom view?’
He giggles in delight. ‘You can come in and look at the sea from my room any time you like, Mum!’ he says, magnanimous in his excitement.
We all troop into the master bedroom next. It’s about twice the size of Albie’s room, but certainly not enormous. The wardrobes have been built in to utilise the space under the eaves, the attractively panelled wooden doors in keeping with the rest of the traditional cottage interior.
We discover there’s only one small bathroom in the whole cottage, but it’s clean with modern, white hardware – including both a bath and overhead shower – and sparkling tiles.
‘Looks like this has recently been fitted,’ Neil murmurs approvingly, running his hand over the edge of the ceramic sink and peering behind the pedestal at the pipework. ‘Someone made a good job of it, too.’
I place my hands on the narrow windowsill and take in the view from our bedroom. It overlooks the small garden and I can see the partial rooftop of Seaspray House over the top of the line of conifers that marks out the boundary of the land.
Back on the landing, I open the final door to find a box room so tiny I know we’ll struggle to get even a single bed in there. The slatted blind is pulled down and the coffee-coloured walls make the space look even more dim and closed in.
‘Oh well, it’ll come in handy for storage,’ I say, closing the door again. ‘I love it downstairs but I hope they’ll let us decorate up here if we want to.’
‘I’m sure they’ll be fine about that sort of thing,’ Neil says easily. ‘The Williamses seem quite laid back. Ted, anyway. You’ll see what I mean when you get to meet him.’
‘I’ll make us our first cuppa in the new kitchen,’ I say when we get back downstairs. Before I can walk away, Neil grabs me and plants a kiss on my lips. It’s been so long since he’s shown me any impulsive affection like that, it takes me back a bit.
‘What?’ He laughs at my shocked expression.
‘You just surprised me, that’s all. I’m not complaining.’
‘In that case…’ He grabs me again and plants another smacker on my lips. ‘There’s another for good measure!’
I laugh and pull away. ‘That kettle’s not going to boil itself, Romeo.’ As I walk into the kitchen, my heart lifts a little. I hardly dare hope, but this is what I’ve prayed for. That Neil and I will get closer again and finally put the difficult times behind us.
Despite having a thousand and one other jobs to do, I fill the kettle and stand for a few moments, staring out of the window and down the hillside. I haven’t got twenty-twenty vision, but I can still clearly see the grey waves whipping up with the breeze and a few kids darting in and out of the water.
There’s movement beyond the gate and I catch sight of a short woman with a dark ponytail and a child with a head of bright-red hair walking past. The woman glances at the cottage as she passes.
I start at the sound of the front door opening and an unfamiliar male voice calls out, ‘Hello? Anybody home?’
I hover cautiously behind the kitchen door until Neil appears in the hallway, smiling widely. ‘Ted, hi!’
Ted Williams is a fit-looking, broad-shouldered man who I’d guess is probably in his early sixties. He’s clean-shaven with salt and pepper hair worn long in the neck and slicked back from his face. There aren’t many people who can make my husband look on the short side but Ted stands about six-foot-four next to Neil’s six foot. They lock hands, grasping arms at the same time. Neil turns to me. ‘Ted, this is Lottie, my wife. Lottie, this is Ted Williams, my new boss.’
I offer my hand. ‘Hello, Ted, it’s so nice to meet you. Neil’s told me a lot about you.’
‘Really? All good I hope!’ He throws back his head and gives a hearty laugh before apologising for a short coughing fit. He’s quite well groomed for a man of his age with smooth skin and good teeth.
‘And this young man—’ Neil ruffles our son’s dark-blond hair ‘—is my son, Albie.’
Ted’s voice softens. ‘Hello there.’
‘Hello,’ Albie says.
‘Looking forward to starting your new school?’
He gives Ted a guarded nod. ‘Yes.’
Albie hasn’t been sleeping well for the last couple of weeks and he’s wet the bed twice. I’m convinced he’s nervous about starting his new school although he hasn’t said as much.
Ted turns back to me.
‘So, how’s it going, Lottie? Settling in alright?’
‘We’ve only really got around to checking out the cottage and putting the kettle on,’ I say. ‘Next on the list is emptying the car boot and then removals are coming on Monday.’
Ted looks around approvingly.
‘Oh, and thanks for leaving a few provisions,’ I add. ‘Albie’s very impressed with the PlayStation. That was really kind of you.’
Ted waves our thanks away. ‘No worries. My wife wanted to make sure it was comfortable for your arrival. How was the journey?’
‘Very good,’ Neil says. ‘No problems.’
I hear the kettle click loudly behind me in the kitchen. ‘I’m making a hot drink, Ted,’ I say. ‘Will you stay for a cup of tea?’
He checks his watch, murmuring to himself. ‘Let’s see… I’ve got a topsoil delivery coming in about thirty minutes so yes, I should be able to fit in a quick cuppa.’
Once made, we take our drinks into the lounge and Ted looks around approvingly. ‘Cosy in here. I’ve always liked it. Tom – our last gardener – and his wife, Mary, were getting on a bit and so they didn’t do much with the place in the last few years, but I’m sure you’ll make it your own.’ He takes a sip of his tea. ‘Don’t feel you’ve got to ask before decorating or anything. So long as you’re not knocking down walls, you’ve pretty much got carte blanche to do as you like with the interior.’
Neil shoots me an ‘I told you so’ look and I give him a little smile in return.
‘Do they still live in the area?’ I ask, sipping my tea. ‘Tom and Mary, I mean?’
Ted hesitates and places his mug on the wooden coffee table before answering. ‘Can I ask you both to do me a big favour?’ he says, looking from me to Neil.
‘Course,’ Neil says quickly. ‘What is it?’
‘This may sound odd, but can I ask you not to mention Tom and Mary Gooding again? And particularly not in the earshot of my wife?’
I stare at him. I can’t believe he’s just said that. He used the word ‘ask’ but it sounds more like an order to me.
‘Oh, sorry,’ I say lightly, but my curiosity is piqued. Neil told me the old gardener had been here for years, so I can’t help wondering why his wife is so sensitive to any mention of them.
‘No, no, you mustn’t feel bad, Lottie. It was silly of me to bring them up, but it’s really nothing to worry about. It’s just that…’ He sighs. ‘Let’s just say there was a disagreement of sorts before the Goodings left the cottage. I don’t want to go into details, but it really upset Neeta and she’s only just getting over it. So I’m really hoping not to have to hear their names now the problem is over.’
‘Say no more, Ted,’ Neil remarks solemnly. ‘We understand completely. Sorry for the mix-up.’
Even though he brought their names up in the first place…
Ted holds his hand up to stave off more apologies. ‘Thanks for your understanding. Much appreciated.’ He turns to Albie. ‘Now then, buddy, what do you think to this PlayStation I had set up just for you?’
THREE
NEIL
SUNDAY
He’s been awake since 6 a.m. They didn’t get to sleep until midnight because of Lottie’s non-stop speculation about why Tom and Mary Gooding might have left. This is the last thing he needs to happen: Lottie getting obsessive and her imagination running wild. He’d thought all that was behind them.
When he hears Albie get up, he takes him downstairs, makes him a bowl of cereal and swiftly gives in to his request for a breakfast PlayStation session while he’s still in his pyjamas. Then he makes tea, which he takes up to Lottie in bed.
‘Gosh, I slept late… what time is it?’ She half-sits up in bed, raking her fingers through her hair and reaching blearily for her phone on the bedside table. ‘Seven-thirty! Is Albie up?’
‘He’s fine, happy downstairs on his PlayStation,’ Neil says, reaching for his trackie bottoms. ‘You’ve got Ted to thank for your lie-in.’
She’d usually have something to say about the early-morning gaming session, but she clearly still has something else on her mind. ‘You know, something occurred to me in the night. Do you think that fallout was the reason Tom and Mary Gooding left Seaspray Cottage, or do you think they were retiring anyway and just—’
‘Not this again, please.’ Neil rakes his fingers through his hair. ‘You were still going on about it at nearly midnight.’
‘It was eleven-thirty when I put the lamp out,’ Lottie says defensively. ‘Anyway, why aren’t you interested? Don’t you want to know what happened? You’re going to be working for these people so it might be sensible to be a bit more curious.’
‘As I said last night, I can’t believe I’ve landed this amazing job. I’m so bloody grateful to be given this chance, and the last thing I want to do is start ruffling any feathers.’
‘I don’t mean I’m going to quiz Ted directly, silly. I’ll soon get to know the people who live around here and someone is bound to know what happened.’
‘Lottie, no!’ He frowns at her and shrugs off his dressing gown. ‘Please don’t mention this to anyone. I don’t want to get on the wrong side of Ted before I start.’
Lottie lets out an exaggerated sigh. She allows her eyes to blatantly travel over his torso and arms as he stands there in his boxer shorts. ‘Why don’t you come back to bed for a bit?’ she says huskily.
‘Tempting, but I’ve already promised to watch Albie play the next level of his game. Besides, you deserve a bit of time to yourself and we’ve plenty of time for cuddles later.’ He winks and grins at her as he pulls on a T-shirt. He loves Lottie and still finds her very attractive. He often feels aroused when they cuddle, when her nails might trace a wavy path from his neck down his upper back, just the way he likes it. But whenever she tries to move things on a step beyond that, it feels like a shutter comes down in his head and he’s effectively physically disconnected.
It had never been like that before the accident and the doctors had confirmed there didn’t appear to be any obvious nerve damage or physical reason for his very personal difficulties.
‘These things can take time,’ his consultant had told him. ‘Give yourself a break, Neil. Your recovery has been remarkable and hopefully, in time, you’ll find most things will return to some normality.’
Easy for him to say. Using words like hopefully and normal weren’t especially helpful when you were experiencing a rising panic that your mojo had evaporated before you’d even turned forty. He’d noticed that Lottie had been far more attentive and affectionate than usual this morning, which was nice but added to the pressure. Last night, the two of them had enjoyed a cuddle after turning the lamps out. Sadly, the effect of this was to bring Neil’s worries about his waning abilities in the bedroom sharper into focus than ever. He felt like he was letting her down at every turn.
Lottie’s voice breaks into his thoughts: ‘I’m going to cook us a nice meal tomorrow night after your first day at work. How does creamy chicken and bacon pasta sound?’ It’s one of his favourite dishes. ‘I might even open a bottle of Sauvignon if you play your cards right.’
‘What, on a school night?’ he jokes, referencing their recent decision to try not to drink alcohol during the week. It’s what Lottie might be expecting to happen after the food that worries him.
‘It’s a special school night, so yes.’ Lottie is on a roll now, cradling her mug in both hands and staring into space with a dreamy look on her face. ‘Albie is bound to be tired after his first day at his new school, so he might be in bed a bit earlier and we can… well, you know, catch up on a bit of “us” time. God knows we need it.’
Neil swallows and reaches for his socks. ‘Have you seen my watch?’
‘On top of the dresser.’ Lottie puts down her mug and pats down the quilt before folding her hands together on top of it.
‘You chill for a bit while I keep Albie entertained, and then shall we all go down for a walk on the beach?’ Neil suggests. ‘It’s going to be nice and warm today according to the weather forecast and I’d like us to get down to the beach together every day, if we can. Even for a short time.’
Sometimes Neil wonders if she didn’t prefer him mooching around the house every day, watching television and relying on her for everything. He knows she has serious abandonment issues thanks to her mother leaving when she was young and, as a result, can be possessive and overbearing if she feels threatened in any way. Those traits had disappeared when he was effectively housebound. Back then, what Lottie said went without question. But he didn’t feel resentful – quite the opposite.
He’d been so grateful for her support and encouragement when his confidence had been rock-bottom, but now it’s time for him to fly again. He can feel a drive and enthusiasm rising in him like the swell of the tide. He will put himself back together, piece by tiny piece and make the most of this amazing opportunity.
They get down to the beach for eleven o’clock and it’s already busy with people, dogs and, further up the coast, a gathering of people at the edge of the water.
‘I think they’re learning how to surf, Dad,’ Albie says, his eyes wide with wonder. ‘Can I go and see?’
‘Sure, we’ll walk up and you can run ahead,’ Neil replies and when Albie shoots off, he turns to Lottie. ‘How amazing is it to see him like this?’
‘I thought he could only get enthusiastic about gaming these days,’ Lottie agrees.
