Willow Cottage – Part Three: A Spring Affair. Bella OsborneЧитать онлайн книгу.
reminding Beth of when he was a toddler.
‘Well, yesterday was different as I was out all day but I’ll take her for a walk at lunchtime. Do you want to come?’
‘Yeah!’ squealed Leo, immediately brightening as his mother tried to control the fear and anger that was instantly coursing through her veins.
‘No, I’m sorry, Leo. You have to stay on school premises at lunchtime. Doesn’t he, Jack?’ The look that accompanied the sentence was instruction enough.
‘Oh, yeah. Silly me. No, you can’t come but I’ll tell you how she is and I promise you she’ll be fine. Okay?’
Leo nodded glumly as he pulled himself free from his mother’s grasp and sulked off into the school, dragging his rucksack behind him. The adults watched him go and Beth’s heart melted for her son. When he was out of sight, Jack ran his hand through his hair and gave a self-deprecating smile. ‘That was a bit tricky. I didn’t—’
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing hugging my child and then inviting him out of school?’ Beth felt the emotion catch in her throat and she fought hard to stay in control. The last thing she wanted to do right now was cry but the mixture of suppressed anger and unhappiness was a volatile cocktail. How had everything turned so suddenly from picture perfect to an utter nightmare?
‘Wow! Slow down with the accusations. That is not what happened and you know it.’
‘Stay away from my child or I will report you, Jack. I’m not the pushover you think I am.’
As Jack stood looking bewildered and confused in the doorway, Beth walked away, struggling to see as the hot tears blurred her vision.
Beth had a horrid day. She spent most of it replaying the scene at the school and going over and over what exactly had been said and whether she should speak to the head teacher. She had finally resolved that whatever Jack had done in the past he was now holding down a responsible job and she knew the support he provided to the school was invaluable. She decided instead to make it clear that if she had any cause to feel that Leo was threatened then she would be shouting it from the highest point in the village, which was most likely the Bleeding Bear pub sign.
She was very glad to leave a sulking Leo at the pub, don Petra’s helmet and escape to her first evening class. She took with her one of the broken stair-rail spindles so that she would have a template to make replicas, and popped this inside her coat. Beth had memorized the best route and knew that, even on the ancient moped, it should only take about twenty-five minutes to get to the adult education centre where the classes were being held.
January rain lashed at Beth for most of the journey and she felt vulnerable as a large lorry had overtaken her only leaving a narrow corridor of space between her and its thundering wheels. As she arrived at the centre a small sign pointed her into the car park and an allocated area for motorbikes. She parked the small pink moped between two large motorbikes, locked it up and jogged over to the steps that led to the entrance and provided some cover. A quick look at her watch showed that she had made good time and was a little early.
Beth was about to take off her helmet when a familiar figure came striding towards her. Her heart pounded in her chest and she found she was clenching her fists and gripping the spindle tightly. What the hell was Jack doing following her here? She started to struggle with the strap in her haste to take the helmet off quickly but even as she struggled she realized although Jack was heading towards her he was looking straight past her. She followed his gaze inside as he strode by without even a glance. Beth stood still for a moment and found she could undo the helmet strap in one easy movement if she wasn’t panicking.
Keeping her helmet on, she followed Jack inside, keeping a safe distance back, and discreetly picked up a leaflet as she went by the stand so that she could pretend to read that if he looked round. He turned a corner and then bounded up a staircase two at a time. As she reached the top of the stairs there was no sign of him and her helmet had almost completely steamed up. She stood, looking along the corridor, wondering if she should take her spying mission any further as curiosity nibbled at her conscience.
‘Oh, my word. You gave me a start!’ squealed an older lady in a very shiny blouse. She peered a bit closer at the tinted helmet. ‘Are you all right?’ she said slowly as if Beth was deranged. Beth had a quick glance down the corridor to check there was still no sign of Jack before she removed the helmet.
‘Yes, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jump. I was following someone …’
The woman gave her an old-fashioned look. Rumbled, she thought.
‘I thought they might be going to the same class. What classes are up here? IT?’ she ventured. It was most likely that Jack was running a course rather than attending one.
‘Oh, no classes on this floor, it’s all local meeting groups. What class are you here for?’
Bugger, thought Beth. ‘Wood-turning.’
The woman looked taken aback. ‘Then you need to be in the workroom outside. Come with me.’
‘Don’t I need to sign in or something?’ Beth strained a last look up the corridor as the woman put out an arm to guide her back downstairs. She gave in as her shoulders sagged and she trudged after the woman, leaving a trail of drips off her coat as she went.
The workroom was very tidy with a series of low benches on one side of the room and six workstations on the other side. Each station had a wall of tools all very neatly hung up. Two men were already seated at the front bench so she went to the one behind and sat down. They stopped talking as she approached and smiled kindly at her. Beth was introducing herself as someone marched into the room, creating a draught. The larger-than-life figure put her in mind of a ginger and slightly less hairy version of Hagrid from Harry Potter. He marched to the front of the class and clapped his hands astonishingly loudly. Beth instantly wanted to clap her hands together to see if she could get the volume anywhere near close. She sat on them instead to stop herself.
‘Hello, hello, welcome, welcome. New recruits and old favourites,’ he bellowed as he waved to two more men entering the room behind her. He was a bear of a man with a voice to match. Despite his size and volume Beth found she quickly warmed to Tollek, who explained that he was originally from Norway but had fallen in love at university in Bath and had stayed, despite having his heart broken. Beth found herself doing a head tilt at the romantic story and then, noticing that nobody else looked remotely interested, she sat up a bit straighter.
As she had suspected she was the only woman in the group with five men. Her bench partner was a homemade-jumper-wearing fifty-something called Ray who made lots of notes. The first half of the lesson whizzed by as Tollek provided a brief history of the craft of wood-turning and explained his own qualifications, which included coming from a long line of woodcraft devotees in Norway. He also ran through the course syllabus and placed a lot of importance on health and safety and the rules of the workroom. Beth eyed the machinery with longing. She really wanted to have a go.
‘Enough of me. Let’s have a break for coffee and a bit of socializing and then we will acquaint ourselves with the lathe,’ said Tollek with another handclap, which Beth was sure had set off a mild case of tinnitus. Ray scuttled round the bench to join the other men and Beth found herself following behind all the way to the refectory like a lost sheep.
She was rummaging in her purse for change when she heard Jack’s voice and forced herself to remain still and with her head down. She slowly turned to watch him leaving the break area with a young man. They stopped to chat outside the gents’ toilets and when the young man went into the toilets Jack walked away towards the stairs.
Beth pulled a receipt from her purse and prepared herself. As the young man came out she pounced.
‘Hi, sorry. The man you were with dropped something.’ She waved the receipt in front of him vaguely and he was momentarily distracted like a cat with a feather. ‘Which class is he in?’ She was desperately keen to know what Jack was doing here. It was none of her business but simple curiosity was getting the better of her.
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