Freya North 3-Book Collection: Secrets, Chances, Rumours. Freya NorthЧитать онлайн книгу.
Hang on.’ He left. And then he returned. He sat down and opened his cheque-book.
‘Miss Tess,’ he wrote. Then he paused. ‘Tess – I don't know your surname.’
Tess felt enormously tired all of a sudden. Too tired to tell him her surname, let alone request cash instead of a cheque.
‘Are you OK, pet?’
‘I don't know. I feel odd. I think I'd better lie down. Stilton does this to me sometimes.’
It wasn't true, but Stilton did make Tamsin come over all funny and just then, to appropriate her close friend's condition provided Tess with a much-needed connection to her past. She touched Joe's shoulder as she left the table. He made to take her hand but she was already beyond reach.
He could only make out the top of her head from the depths of his duvet when he went to bed much later. It seemed to him that she was fast asleep.
She woke and wondered if there was any way she could avoid the goodbye, short of running away. But there was a baby to feed and a convalescing dog to attend to. And there was so much to say, if only, if only, she could muster the courage. She had to get up and get the day moving because what else could she do.
In the kitchen, on the table, was the cheque. It was made payable to Miss Tess and the biro had been left on top of it. It was for two months wages’ with something on top. She didn't want to accept it at all, really. She wanted to dispense with this particular dynamic with Joe. Boss and house-sitter – where could that leave love? Two months’ pay – with extras. Were those last week? But she needed the money, God knows she needed it. However, the same old problem remained: relinquishing a cheque to her fetid bank account. It was like a bog. A cheque would be sucked down until the surface closed over and it looked no different from before. However, asking her sister for a postal order was one thing. Asking Joe for cash again was another. It didn't make her feel cheap; it just made her feel poor. And that decimated her self-esteem.
‘Morning,’ he said, suddenly behind her, a gentle smack to her bottom. He noticed she was holding the cheque.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘I don't believe you.’ He crossed his arms and looked at her askance. ‘I know you, Tess,’ he said.
And Tess thought, but Joe, there's stuff about me you don't know. Secrets I don't want to share.
‘I'm fine – honestly – it's just the last throes of that bloody Stilton.’
Joe thought to himself, but I know you, Tess – we've shared Stilton on previous occasions with no adverse reactions.
She was hiding something and he wasn't sure he liked it.
‘I'd better make tracks, really,’ he said.
She nodded whilst fixating on a recount of the eyelets in his shoes.
He lifted her chin with his thumb. ‘Bye.’
He kissed her and oh how she kissed him back.
‘Bye,’ she said eventually, when it really was time for them to pull apart.
Lisa and her husband were taking Sam on the miniature railway to the Italian Gardens for a picnic. With May in full swing, the weather was glorious. They only lived a stone's throw away and doubtless lunch would be a far easier affair to have at home – but she'd found it fun to prepare a picnic. Sam had a new baseball cap with NYFD embroidered on it. She'd bought it on a trip to Coulby Newham and though she knew it wasn't the genuine article, if Sam looked cute, what did it matter. The hat, high-factor suncream, the picnic – it all filled Lisa with joy that summer was undoubtedly here. The train rolled away on its short journey with a satisfying clicketting along the narrow-gauge tracks and Lisa thought how she'd be perfectly happy taking the little train to and fro all day.
‘Is he all right?’
Lisa's husband jolted her back to reality.
‘He keeps saying “oof” – sounds like he has tummy troubles.’
‘Oof.’
Lisa turned this way and that. ‘Where's Oof, Sammy? Where's Oof?’
‘Lisa?’
‘Look, Sammy – there's Oof! There's Oof! Oof all better!’
‘Lisa – what the –?’
‘Stop the train!’
‘You can't stop a miniature railway, you daft bint. What's this oof business?’
‘It's Wolf – Tess's dog – the one who was hit! Look, there he is. Christ alive, he looks shite. Tess! Tess!’
But Tess, who had adopted a similar gait to Wolf, appeared not to hear.
Lisa put her little finger and thumb in her mouth and gave out a raucous whistle.
‘I didn't know you could do that.’
Lisa put her index and middle fingers in her mouth and whistled shrilly through them.
‘Nor that,’ her husband marvelled.
She poked her tongue out, then rolled it vertically from side to side.
‘Bloody hell.’
Lisa laughed. She hadn't managed to catch Tess's attention but her husband was captivated.
They alighted at the gardens and then doubled back on themselves, through the meadow between the river and the tracks, looking for a suitable spot to picnic. It was also the direction where Lisa had last seen Tess. She laid out the lunch with only half a mind on the job while she glanced around her every few seconds.
Her husband flicked a cheesy puff crisp at her. ‘Go on – go and see if you can find her.’
Lisa didn't need asking twice and she marched off, leaving her husband to tut, women! to their son.
It didn't take her long to catch up with Tess, on account of how slowly Wolf was moving. Em squealed when she caught sight of Lisa, Tess stood still and grinned, Wolf continued on his lope, unaware of the action behind him.
‘You!’ said Lisa, not sure where to start.
‘Me,’ Tess said with a mixture of pride and embarrassment.
‘Where the – excuse me, Em – fuck have you been!’
Tess shrugged.
‘Feathering some love nest up at the big house?’
Tess drew an arc in the grass with her foot.
‘You old slink!’ but Lisa was obviously delighted. ‘That bloke –’
‘Wolf!’ Tess called. ‘Wolf!’
He turned like an old jalopy doing a six-point-turn and ambled back.
‘Wolf,’ said Lisa, giving him a rub, ‘you must have a tale to tell, old thing.’
‘Actually,’ said Tess, ‘he has no tail to speak of.’
Lisa looked at her then smiled broadly. ‘That's good, that is – clever, very clever. You're not just a pretty face, are you, love?’
Tess had a good look at her shoes, and Lisa's, before raising her face. ‘That's what Joe said to me too.’
Lisa put her sunglasses up on her head even though it made her squint a little.
‘So – this Joe, then. Does this mean Seb's not getting a look in?’
Tess visibly paled. ‘Bugger,’ she said. ‘Seb.’ She paused. It sounded too crass and heartless to say she hadn't given him a moment's thought – but that was the truth.