Follow a Star (11 page)

‘Sorry, Toby – I’m not with you.’

She heard him clear his throat.

‘No, I know you’re not. That’s why I’m ringing. I’m outside Soul Survivor. I got here a bit early as the traffic was lighter than I expected. The thing is, there were men working on the place when I arrived.’

Ricky! What had he done now?

‘Locksmiths, I think. And there’s a notice in the window announcing the shop’s closed due to unforeseen circumstances.’

By the end of the day, Cathy’s disbelief had given way to numb acceptance. She fingered the solicitors’ letter that had arrived by recorded delivery and sent her into an impotent rage, knowing that no matter how many times she read it the same message would jump out at her. Aiden had hung her out to dry.

She’d spent hours ringing round trying to come up with ready cash, anything to save her skin. ‘Yes,’ she got tired of saying, ‘the business
was
struggling, but what small business didn’t struggle?’ But unless Aiden had a change of heart, everything she’d worked so hard for was over. And by the time she’d told Rick what she’d done that might not be the only thing.

The sun was hot on the back of the house so she moved round and sat in the open patio doors that led off the living-cum-dining room and lit a last cigarette as her dreams went up in smoke. Where the walls met the door frame, a wavy seam of lilac paint which a couple of hastily slapped-on coats of more recent jade emulsion hadn’t quite covered reminded her of the excitement of buying their first family home. It had, of course, required complete modernisation which was how they’d been able to afford it, but there was a garden for the girls to play in and more space than they knew what to do with after their tiny flat.

‘We’ll just paint over this Anaglypta for now and lose the beige. I’ll strip it all off later,’ Rick had promised. ‘What colour do you fancy?’

So they’d made the room their own with lilac paint, but somehow they’d never got round to stripping off the old paper, nor so many of the fiddly little jobs that were easy to postpone. Cathy turned away and stared at the overgrown apple tree which had also promised far more than it delivered. Sharp, mottled fruit which fell in a rotten mulch before you could blink. A thumping bass from the house backing on to their garden told her that school was over for the day. The little girls next-door-but-one were pounding their trampoline and shrieking with laughter and the inane banter of a banal early evening game show warbling through the walls from her neighbour’s TV coalesced in an unholy suburban cacophony that dropped abruptly from her conscious hearing as a key turned in the front door.

‘Cath? What are you doing home? Don’t you feel well?’

Rick touched a hand to her shoulder and crouched down beside her.

How had everything unravelled like this? Cathy shook her head and choked back the tears. She’d never been the kind of woman who used crying as a weapon so there was no point in making herself feel even worse by trying it now. All she could do was explain why she’d acted as she had.

‘Aiden came round to the shop as soon as he realised May had packed a bag,’ she began. ‘When she told us she needed to get away from everything, I didn’t realise that included him as well. He was beside himself, Rick. I mean, imagine how he must have felt walking in after a business trip to find she’d left without telling him. It was like when …’ She stopped and pulled herself together. ‘I’ve got to say I felt a bit sorry for him.’

She glanced towards him, knowing that he wouldn’t have a shred of sympathy for the younger man. Why would he when he didn’t know how it felt to be isolated, to have to pick your way barefoot over the broken glass of your love life? What else could she have done in the circumstances, with Aiden standing there choking back tears, other than help?

‘He was really concerned,’ she continued, desperate to make him understand how it felt to be caught between a rock and hard place, ‘not for himself, although I could see how hurt he was, but for May. He said he was doing his best to guard her interests but that any goodwill towards her would quickly evaporate unless he could speak to her and agree a way forward.’

‘What’s he been doing for the last four weeks, then?’ Rick asked. ‘It’s been a month since May backed out of doing the gig at the festival. Didn’t he tell us he was taking care of everything? Weren’t we supposed to leave it all to him?’

‘We’ve got to be a bit careful, Rick. He pointed out that, in theory, she’d breached her contract, that she was liable to pay him a percentage of her future earnings. Think of what that will mean.’

‘For her? Or for you?’ Rick asked bitterly.

Cathy clamped her hands between her thighs before she was tempted to reach out to him for comfort she didn’t deserve.

‘Us, don’t you mean,’ she replied, since it was partly his fault that it had even dawned on her that it was necessary to safeguard her own future. ‘I didn’t notice you protesting when she stepped in to pay the mortgage when we couldn’t. Listen, he told me May’s career was finished unless the matter was resolved. And, he seemed genuinely concerned for all of us.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeah? So what gave you that impression?’

‘Well, you remember how apprehensive May was about her appearance at the new festival? Aiden stopped by Soul Survivor in April and admitted that the pressure was getting to both of them. He thought it would widen her potential fan base if she could reach out to an indie audience, but May wasn’t having it. She started seeing problems that weren’t there, like imagining he was running around with other women and generally doubting his advice.’

Rick shook his head.

Cathy pressed on. ‘Because May wasn’t listening to him, he asked me to have a word with her, just to encourage her along a bit.’

‘Hold on, Cath, he always told us to keep out of May’s business. Always said he was the expert. So where’s this going?’

‘He said at the time that he couldn’t help noticing that the shop needed a bit of work. He knew it was hard with you having to compete for jobs with younger blokes, so he offered a temporary holiday with the rent whilst I sorted myself and improved the shop to help us get back on our feet.’

‘How much do you owe him?’ Rick asked quietly.

Cathy took a deep breath. ‘When he came in this week, he reminded me that I was in debt to him to the tune of three month’s rent. He told me it wasn’t a problem because of us being May’s parents. He even acknowledged that although he hadn’t always seen eye to eye with us, he realised that May needed us as much as him.’

‘One big happy family, eh?’ Rick scoffed.

Now she had to admit how very stupid she’d been.

‘He promised me everything would change if she gave him another chance. And even though he’d lost a lot of money because of May’s stage fright, he said he was cool about the rent in the short term, provided the misunderstandings and problems didn’t drag on. He had an awful lot on his plate, Rick, and May
had
left him to pick up all the pieces. I thought it was only fair when I heard from her to let him know where she was and that she was all right.’

‘You did what?’ Rick’s face was white.

‘Yeah. I thought I was helping, but he’s thrown it all back in my face. I didn’t check the ins and outs of the new tenancy agreement as thoroughly as I should have when I took it over either. I assumed it would carry on as before – only with less hassle.’

She held up her hand. ‘I know, I know it was crazy of me to trust him. So, it turns out there was a forfeiture clause in the lease and because there’s no residential accommodation to complicate the issue he’s within his rights to change the locks, kick me out and take back what’s his.’

‘So that’s it – it’s all gone, has it?’

Cathy appealed to Rick’s back as he began pacing the room. ‘You know how determined he is, Rick. I was only trying to do the right thing.’

‘And look how he’s repaid you! Concerned about all of us, my arse! If he was that bloody concerned why would he pull the plug on the shop as soon as you told him where May was?’

She folded herself back into the sofa, not quite understanding how easily she’d allowed herself be taken in. ‘Nothing you can say, Rick, can make me feel worse than I do already. He seemed so plausible. Remember what a gentleman he was when we first met him? I used to think it was so romantic, the way he swept her off her feet with surprise weekends away,’ she said, thinking aloud.

‘No you didn’t,’ Rick said, spinning round and surveying her with disgust. ‘You were jealous. You couldn’t stand the fact that May was getting all the attention instead of you. No wonder Stevie saw the writing on the wall and got out before you could cut her down to size too. When did you become so resentful of your own daughters?’

‘Oh, don’t give me that, Rick.’ She got to her feet to face him. ‘You know exactly what knocked me for six. I wouldn’t even have thought of trying to build a little nest egg of my own before then. I’m not getting any younger and … after you did the dirty on me, I just thought …’

‘So this is all my fault, is it?’ he snorted. ‘One mistake in forty years and I have to pay for it for the rest of my life. For crying out loud, Cath – it’s ancient history, must be at least two years now. How many times do we have to go through this? I thought I’d lost it – and yes, I was a stupid old git. Typical midlife crisis. Yep, I’m guilty, hands up. I was flattered because some bird was interested in me, I played away from home and then I realised just how much I had to lose.’

Everything had gone wrong during that lean spell when Rick was out of work. Autumn rolled into a cold winter and the prospect of a miserable Christmas. Looking back, she hadn’t helped her husband, going on, as she had, about how they were going to pay the bills. No wonder he’d lost heart and turned to the first person to see him as a man, not a failure. Ironically, the affair had started just when she was breathing a sigh of relief because he’d got some painting and decorating work as a stop gap, until she realised that her husband was doing a little overtime in another woman’s bedroom.

‘What? When you came home and found all your clothes cut in half and thrown on the drive, you mean.’

His eyebrows lifted. ‘Yeah you did do that, didn’t you?’

‘Someone had to teach you a lesson,’ she dropped her gaze to her wedding ring and twisted it round her finger. ‘You screwed around, but I’m the one who’s screwed everything up.’

Drained, she lowered herself back to the sofa and rubbed her tired eyes. ‘I should have trusted you a bit more and Aiden a lot less, but he’s always been so charming and protective of May.’

‘Too protective,’ Rick said, moodily. ‘I felt as if I needed an appointment to see my own daughter.’

‘Well, she needed some protection, especially last summer when that hit was everywhere and everyone was trying to get a piece of her,’ she pointed out. ‘I was pleased then that he seemed so keen to guard her privacy. Thinking about it now, Aiden’s always been in the driving seat, but until today, I thought he was taking care of her career.’

Silence … except for the muffled news theme from the living room next door. Rick stared out into the garden and then turned to face her. She shivered and finally expressed her growing doubt. ‘Rick, you do think May will be all right, don’t you?’

Nearly there. As the sinking sun burnished the purple clouds with copper, Bill scanned the horizon for a first glimpse of the fairway buoy marking the entrance to the Little Spitmarsh backwaters. All being well, he’d find both his uncle and his business in reasonable shape and could start getting back to normal. So why didn’t he feel happier about the prospect?

Stupid question. Especially when the answer was sitting right beside him, rebounding wildly after the split with her boyfriend. Some men might have taken advantage of her vulnerability, but he wasn’t like that. It was hard enough anyway imagining that back on dry land she was certain to laugh and put her sudden attraction to a ginger builder down to the bracing effects of sea air, but he didn’t want to torment himself by thinking about the kinds of regrets she might have had, if he hadn’t exercised a hefty measure of self-control. The last thing he wanted was for her to look back and cringe every time she thought about him. As for him, he’d always be wondering what might have been.

‘I’ve got a visual on the channel buoy, now,’ he said, not exactly ecstatic about it. ‘There’s plenty of water either side of it for this boat, but we’ll still keep it to the port side to be sure. When we’re on top of it, we’ll turn in and start pottering slowly up to Watling’s Boatyard where we’ll tie up. There should be enough light for us to see where we’re going.’

‘Great,’ she said, her voice tired and flat after what had been a very long day.

‘Great,’ Bill agreed, wishing it was.

‘It’s gone really well, hasn’t it?’ May said, offering him the ghost of a smile. ‘All things considered. Well, most of the time …’

Her honeyed gaze met his and a knot tightened in his stomach. Hell, of course he was going to miss her; he’d learned so much about her. Like the little puffing baby-breath snores that signalled that she’d drifted off at night. How, sleep-befuddled in the mornings, she’d pad speechless into the cabin until he’d pushed a mug of tea in front of her. He’d miss the sight of those cotton pyjama bottoms that looked so innocent until she bent over to find the milk in the cold store, when the soft fabric stretched and moulded across a bottom so perfectly and deliciously curved, just looking at it made him want to bark like a baboon.

Bill clenched the tiller harder. It was more than just that nature had made such a wonderful job of her; he liked her, damn it, and would miss her company. She was funny, self-deprecating and hadn’t baulked once that she hadn’t exactly found herself on a luxury liner. Heck, how could he have written her off as some kind of gold-digger? He could read her well enough to be able to tell that she wasn’t the type of woman who craved a celebrity lifestyle. No one like that would have been as happy as May, in her casual clothes, sailing the boat in all weathers, her face bare of make-up and hair tied back any old how. She was just an ordinary, undemanding girl. Given what a tough time she’d had emotionally, he was the one who owed her, for enduring some basic conditions and hard work to deliver the boat. She deserved better.

‘The whole of this North Sea coast is subject to longshore drift,’ he explained, seeing that they were nearly at the channel buoy. ‘The sea tears at the land and produces these magnificent shingle spits. This one’s huge and distinguished by its cone shape. That’s the entrance that winds down to Little Spitmarsh.’

May gave a desultory glance in the general direction of the land whilst fumbling in her jacket pocket before producing a tissue and blowing her nose hard. He hoped she wasn’t thinking about that clown of an ex-boyfriend. Bill had a sudden brainwave. Perhaps he could take her for a meal at Samphire, his mate Matthew’s restaurant. That would be a great way to thank her. And take her mind off her ex. No one visiting Little Spitmarsh for the first time ever expected to find such a remarkable place in such a sleepy seaside town. The cuisine was outstanding too, thanks to Jimi, Matthew’s original and accomplished chef. May couldn’t fail to be impressed.

But, wait a minute, Bill shook his head. Thanking May was fine, but impressing her? That was a non-starter. Even if she’d been in the slightest bit interested in him this was not great timing for either of them. He had plenty to worry about with Cecil and all the work that was bound to be piling up. And May deserved someone who would take good care of her. Why risk creating an even bigger mess?

His stomach leaden with disappointment, Bill adjusted the tiller and began to nudge the boat towards its new home. ‘What you find,’ he started to explain, ‘is that this shingle bank produces a back eddy. The longshore drift flips backwards here so you get this huge body of circling water swirling around like water down a plug hole.’

‘If you say so,’ said May, flatly.

‘But don’t worry,’ he assured her, trying to lighten his own mood as much as hers, ‘we’re perfectly safe, it’s hardly a whirlpool! Before you know it we’ll be packing the boat up and getting back to real life.’

She’d gone very quiet, but since the wind was right on
Lucille
’s nose, creating a heavy, uncomfortable motion as the force of the tide gushing out of the channel pushed against the little boat, she might have been concentrating on not being seasick.

‘All right?’ he asked.

‘Not really,’ she replied, lifting her eyes to his. ‘I’m not sure I’m looking forward to real life.’

The smile that she gave him was so brave and heartbreaking that Bill forgot his good intentions and decided he would ask if she’d like to have dinner with him before they went their separate ways. He took a deep breath, dimly aware of wings somewhere above his head, flapping against the wind, and May’s eyes widening with alarm. Then something smacked him on the back of the head and his world turned upside down.