Pastures New (30 page)

‘Oh bugger.’ Saffron put the shillelagh down and stared at the sheepish form beneath her. ‘Gerry, just what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she said.

‘I can explain everything,’ said Gerry.

‘You’d better come in,’ Saffron told him, thinking it was the last thing she wanted, but Gerry had a nasty graze on his leg from where the pot had broken and a piece had scraped it.

‘Sit down,’ she said, ‘I’ll get something to patch up the war wound.’

Ten minutes later, Saffron found herself in the bizarre position of kneeling at her ex-husband’s feet while she cleaned up what turned out to be a surface scratch. Although he was wearing a suit, he had no tie, and looked, well – grubby. He also appeared to have been drinking.

‘So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

‘Erm, well, I don’t – hmph, it’s, well, erm –’ Gerry managed to look both abashed and brazen at the same time.

‘Come on, Gerry, spit it out,’ said Saffron. ‘It’s not like you to go all shy and retiring on me.’

‘ThethingisyouseewellitsMaddythebitchandthebusinessisintroubleandIvenowheretogoand –

‘Woah, slow down, I missed most of that – what about Maddy?’

‘The thing is …’ Gerry paused for dramatic effect, and Saffron smelt the alcohol on his breath. ‘She’s kicked me out.’

‘Well, if you will go round two-timing people, what do you expect?’ Saffron was impatient with Gerry, but nonetheless staggered. Gerry never got dumped. He always did the dumping. It was a rare bimbo who got one over him. What with the business sabotage as well, Saffron’s estimation of Maddy rose a few notches. She turned on the kettle. ‘I think you could use a coffee,’ she said. ‘So Maddy’s ditched you?’

‘Yes, and now I have nowhere to stay, and the business is suffering, and I think I might be about to go under.’

Saffron, who had been trying to repress her giggles at the pathetic figure before her, stopped short.

‘What? Really under?’

‘Yes,’ said Gerry. His usual swagger had disappeared and for the first time he looked genuinely vulnerable. ‘It started when I lost a couple of big clients. I had been relying on their money, and bought some new stock upfront. I made a mistake, the stock hasn’t shifted, and now I owe thousands to my creditors.’

Saffron felt seriously alarmed now. Unreliable father he might be, but Gerry had always been good at paying maintenance. Even though Pete’s job was paying better now, every penny they had was accounted for. Losing Gerry’s money for the children would make a big hole.
She tuned back in to Gerry and suddenly realised what he was saying.

‘– so I’ve nowhere to live, it looks like my business is down the pan, we’re going to lose the house, even if Maddy has me back.’

‘Gerry,’ said Saffron, ‘where did you say you’d been staying?’

‘I didn’t.’ A slightly panicked look crossed his face.

‘You sneaky bugger! You’ve been staying in our shed.’

‘It’s only temporary,’ pleaded Gerry, ‘till I sort myself out.’

‘Why can’t you go to a hotel like normal people?’

‘I didn’t want anyone to know she’d chucked me out,’ said Gerry. ‘And several of the sales reps I deal with stay in the motel in town.’

‘What about friends?’ Saffron looked at him and shook her head. ‘No, I forgot. You don’t do friends, do you? You simply have business acquaintances.’

‘I’m sorry, Saffron.’ Gerry did seem genuinely apologetic. ‘I tried not to make a mess. And it’s probably temporary. She’ll probably let me back home again in time.’

‘What? This has happened before?’ Comprehension dawned on Saffron. That was presumably why the intruder had disappeared for a few weeks. Gerry had just gone home. ‘So go on then, go and make it up to her.’

‘I’m not sure that it will be so easy,’ Gerry said.

‘Look, Gerry, I know you find them hard to say but most women respond pretty well to two little words, “I’m sorry”, and a bunch of flowers. It’s worth
a shot, isn’t it? You can’t carry on like this.’

‘The trouble is,’ said Gerry, ‘she’s jealous.’

‘Well, you should have learned by now to behave yourself,’ said Saffron, who was getting irritated now. ‘You should have left Caroline well alone.’

‘Oh, it’s not Caroline,’ said Gerry.

‘Who then?’

‘The thing is, Saffron, Maddy’s incredibly jealous of you.’

Ben paused as he walked up Harry’s path. He had come to return some cutters he’d borrowed earlier. Strictly speaking, he didn’t need to bring them back tonight, but he knew that Amy was going away soon, and he half-hoped that this way he could run into her by accident.

Harry wasn’t in, and in the semi-twilight Amy’s house looked forbidding. Or maybe that was just his imagination – it appeared forbidding because he wasn’t sure of the welcome he was going to get.

Just then her door opened, and there she stood on the doorstep, framed against the light, two empty milk bottles in hand, looking as lovely as she had ever looked.

‘Oh.’ Amy gripped the milk bottles tightly. ‘I was just taking the milk bottles out,’ she said.

‘I was just taking Harry’s cutters back,’ Ben told her, waving them about, as if that made his story stand up more.

‘So I see,’ said Amy. ‘Harry’s out.’

‘Yes,’ said Ben. Every fibre of his being was screaming
at him to take her into his arms and sod the consequences, but Amy just stood there, not moving, not giving him any sign.

‘Well I’ll be off then,’ said Ben.

‘Okay.’

‘Harry tells me you’re going away,’ said Ben.

‘Yes.’

Ben paused. ‘Have a nice holiday,’ he said.

‘I will,’ Amy replied.

‘I’ll be away myself when you get back,’ he told her.

‘Oh,’ she said, interested despite herself. ‘How long for?’

‘A couple of weeks.’

A whole month. It would be a whole month before he saw her again.

‘Are you going anywhere nice?’ asked Amy.

‘I’m going on a walking holiday in France with some university mates,’ he said. ‘And you?’

‘Menorca,’ said Amy. ‘With Mary.’

‘That will be nice.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well. Bye then,’ Ben said, unwilling to leave.

‘Bye.’

He lingered a moment. Then, unable to bear it any longer, he said, ‘Amy, we can’t go on like this.
I
can’t go on like this. Please, if there’s going to be nothing between us, can we at least be friends?’

‘Is there nothing between us?’ Amy’s voice came out in a whisper.

‘You tell me,’ said Ben, and looked at her. ‘Not if you don’t want there to be.’

‘Ben, if I knew what I wanted, life would be so much simpler,’ said Amy. ‘But I don’t know if I can trust you. And if I can’t trust you, I can’t risk being hurt. I’ve been through too much, and so has Josh.’

‘Don’t use Josh as an excuse,’ said Ben. ‘That’s not fair.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Amy asked. ‘You know what happened when we got too close before. I know Josh likes you, but I need to protect him too.’

‘Amy, you’ve got it so wrong,’ said Ben. ‘It’s protecting you both that I want to do more than anything.’

‘Then why didn’t you tell me about Caroline?’

Ben looked puzzled. ‘But I explained that,’ he said.

‘You never told me that you seduced her before she went away the first time,’ Amy chided him.

‘Oh, that,’ said Ben.

‘Yes, that.’

‘Amy, look, I’m sorry. I probably should have said. But the thing was, I knew I’d made a mistake the minute I got involved with Caroline again. And I’m not proud of the way I dumped her. I didn’t tell you because it was irrelevant. Since I met you, you’re the only woman I can think about.’

‘Am I? I wish I could believe that,’ said Amy.

‘Believe it,’ said Ben. He stared at her, willing her to listen to him, but she turned her head away.

‘I want to,’ she whispered.

‘Well, you should because it’s true,’ said Ben. ‘All I want is to make you happy. But I can’t if you won’t let me. And if I want more from you than you want to give, please say you’ll be friends, at least.’

Amy nodded, barely trusting herself to speak.

‘Good,’ said Ben. ‘I hope you both have a great holiday.’

‘Thanks.’

He stepped swiftly towards her, and gave her the briefest of kisses on her cheek. ‘When you’re ready, I’ll be here,’ he said, and with that he was gone.

‘Ah there you are, old boy.’ Harry greeted Ben as he wandered down to the allotments after work. He was pushing a wheelbarrow with a fork in it.

‘Hi Harry, how are you?’ said Ben. ‘I came to bring your cutters back the other night, but you were out.’

‘Yes, Amy mentioned it.’

‘When did you see Amy? I thought she was on holiday.’

‘She is, but she popped in with her spare keys before she left,’ said Harry.

‘How did she seem?’

‘A little stressed, but I’m sure a holiday will do her good. You wait and see, old boy, everything will be fine when she gets back,’ Harry told him. ‘I’m having trouble digging up my spuds. This damned breathlessness don’t you know. You wouldn’t mind giving me a hand, would you, old boy?’

‘Of course not,’ said Ben.

He followed Harry with a lighter heart than he had had of late. After what Amy had said to him at their last meeting, he felt he was no further forward, but
maybe, just maybe, Harry was the key to unlocking Amy’s reluctant heart. He hoped so, because the last few weeks without her had been torture. And he wasn’t sure he could go on without her any more.

On the allotment:
Preparing the ground for the new season. Sowing
,
and growing things under cloches
.

State of the heart:
Preparing to love again
.

‘Does he have to make that dreadful noise?’ Pete came down to breakfast looking rather grumpy.

‘Sorry,’ Saffron looked apologetic. ‘I forgot that Gerry likes to sing in the bath on a Saturday morning.’

‘Singing? Is that what you call it?’ said Pete. ‘I would have called it caterwauling myself.’

They paused as Gerry segued into a rather loud and tuneless rendition of ‘Wonderful Tonight’.

‘You’re not wrong,’ sighed Saffron. ‘And I might have known he’d go for cheese. It could be worse. When I was married to him it was “Paranoid” done five beats too slow, using my tennis racquet as a prop. Now that was a sight to behold.’

‘You almost sound as if you miss it.’ Pete’s tone was accusing. God, when had Pete started to be accusatory? Saffron realised with dismay that more and more of late her exchanges with Pete had been confrontational.

‘Pete! How can you say that?’ Saffron knew her response sounded screechy and sharp. But the tension of having Gerry in the house was unbearable. He flirted
with her at every opportunity when he thought Pete was looking, and now he was singing Eric Clapton. They’d danced to ‘Wonderful Tonight’ at their wedding – at the time Saffron had thought it was hopelessly romantic, but now she found it embarrassing. Gerry must have known she’d remember. The only thing that was bothering her now was had she ever told Pete that?

‘Because it’s true. Gerry says jump and you jump. I feel like a stranger in my own house half the time. And now he’s even singing the song you danced to at your wedding. Jeez, Saffron, who is it you’re married to? Remind me again. Because I used to think it was me.’

‘Now you’re being ridiculous. Anyone would think you were jealous.’

‘Now who’s being ridiculous? Why on earth would I be jealous of sad, sappy Gerry who can’t hold down a job or a decent relationship?’

‘Precisely. Because he is sad and sappy and I have no interest in him at all. In fact, you should feel sorry for him.’

Pete snorted. ‘I cannot feel remotely sorry for someone who lets the good things in his life slip away with the ease that Gerry does. And neither, for the record, am I jealous of him.’

‘Well, good,’ said Saffron, glaring at him.

‘Good.’ Pete glared back.

‘Morning, peeps.’ Gerry breezed in wafting an over whelming stench of Lynx across the room. ‘What are we up to this morning?’

‘
We
are not up to anything,’ said Pete. ‘But
I
am about to go to Wickes to buy an extra waterbutt.’

‘What, now?’ It was only nine o’clock, and Saffron and the children were still not dressed.

‘Yes, now,’ said Pete.

‘What, you trust me with your missus?’ Gerry said with a lascivious leer.

‘Piss off, Gerry,’ Pete replied, and marched out of the room, shooting a furious glance at Saffron.

‘Was it something I said?’ Gerry spoke in mock plaintive tones.

‘Oh shut up,’ said Saffron, ‘do shut up.’ And she noisily began to clear the breakfast things away with a bang. Damn bloody Gerry. He ruined everything.

Amy took a deep breath and looked around at the allotments. It was good to be back. It was nearly a year since she had first seen this place and so much had happened in that time. Over the course of her holiday, thanks to Mary, who had insisted she have a proper break and taken Josh off on her own several times, Amy had sat on several sun-drenched beaches, and lazed by the hotel pool, all the while doing some serious thinking. She had come to the conclusion that she was using the memory of Jamie as an excuse to stop her meeting anyone new. To stop her being hurt. If it wasn’t too late, she had decided that she would give Ben another chance. Life was too short not to grab the chance of happiness when it came. She of all people knew that.

Josh had gone to play with Matt, so she had come
down here on her own. It being Saturday, she hoped that Ben would be on his allotment. He should be due back from his holidays by now. But there was no sign of him. She sighed, and wandered down to inspect her crops. She’d lost a lot of her lettuce – either to the weather or snails by the looks of things, but it seemed as though she would get plenty of runner beans and spuds. Someone had clearly been watering the allotment for her while she was away. In her state of mental turmoil before she went, she had forgotten to ask Harry to do it for her. But, bless him, it looked as though he had done it anyway.

Amy walked towards Harry’s allotment to thank him. He was sitting outside his shed in the warm August sunshine. Odd that he wasn’t doing anything. Harry rarely sat still.

‘Amy, my dear,’ said Harry. ‘How nice to see you. Did you have a good holiday?’

‘Yes, thanks,’ said Amy. ‘It was lovely. I’ve called in a couple of times, but you’ve been out. How are you?’

‘Not too bad,’ said Harry. ‘No Josh today?’

‘Playing with Matt,’ explained Amy. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

Harry didn’t look okay. He was pale and a little breathless, but he waved away her concern. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Now, tell me about your trip.’

‘Thanks for watering my allotment, by the way,’ said Amy.

‘Oh, that wasn’t me,’ said Harry. ‘It was Ben. He’s done it every day religiously.’

‘Ben watered it for me?’ Amy’s heart skipped a beat.
Despite their conversation, despite her refusal to see him, he had still come up and watered her allotment.

‘Harry, are you sure you’re all right?’ The colour had drained from his face, and he was sweating profusely.

‘Think – probably – it’s my heart,’ Harry said. ‘Need aspirin. Top pocket. Jacket, in the shed.’

Amy raced into the shed and grabbed the aspirin with shaking hands.

‘Need. One. In mouth.’ Harry’s voice seemed fainter, but he took the aspirin offered and crunched it up in his mouth, then with a short sigh he tipped forward and slid off the bench.

‘Harry!’ screamed Amy. ‘Harry!’

Ben and Meg were on their way down to the allotments when he heard the screams. They raced towards the sound of the commotion, which seemed to be coming from behind Harry’s shed.

‘Amy!’ said Ben. ‘What happened?’

Amy was crouched over Harry, slapping his face and calling his name.

‘I can’t get a response. I can’t get a response.’

‘Here, let me,’ said Ben, expertly tipping Harry’s head back and checking the airway was clear, before starting CPR. ‘Right, you need to ring for an ambulance while I try to get his heart started. Have you got a mobile on you?’

Amy shook her head.

‘Mine’s in my car – the keys are in my back pocket.’

Amy took the keys and hurried off, leaving Ben kneeling over Harry, counting the number of compressions he was doing. She was shaking like a leaf, but it took her moments to find the phone. She rang 999 and gave them directions to the allotment gates, which she opened to allow them access.

‘Are they coming?’ Ben barely looked up, so intent was he on what he was doing. ‘Come on, Harry. Come on.’

‘Yes,’ said Amy, watching as Ben worked steadily away on Harry’s heart. There still didn’t seem to be any response. At the back of her head she half-remembered something she’d once read about most heart-attack victims being lost because of the lack of a defibrilator.

‘How long did the ambulance say they’d be?’ asked Ben, who was beginning to flag, the physical exertion of what he was doing taking its toll.

‘Ten minutes,’ said Amy. ‘This is hopeless. We’ve lost him.’

‘Not if I have anything to do with it,’ said Ben. He carried on with renewed efforts. To begin with nothing happened, but then Harry gave a sudden spasm, and finally he started to cough.

‘Harry, can you hear me?’

Harry groaned slightly.

‘You’ve had a heart attack. The ambulance is going to take you to hospital.’

As if on cue, the ambulance arrived, and soon the paramedics had taken over and assessed the situation before taking Harry away.

One of them turned to Ben. ‘Well done, mate,’ he said. ‘I think you just saved that old boy’s life.’

Ben sat back on the bench and put his head in his hands.

‘Thank God,’ he said. ‘Thank God.’

‘Coffee?’

Amy looked up to see Ben standing before her holding a plastic cup.

‘Not very strong, I’m afraid,’ said Ben, ‘but it’s the best I can do for now.’

‘It’s warm and it’s wet,’ said Amy. ‘It will do.’

‘Has anyone said anything?’

‘Not yet,’ said Amy. ‘How long do you think we’ll be hanging round here?’

‘How long have you got?’

‘Will he be okay?’

Ben ran his hands through his hair. He’d been dreading answering this question ever since they’d got there.

‘Honest answer? I don’t know. I’ve been expecting something like this for some time. But you know Harry, he’s a tough old stick.’

‘I don’t think I could bear it if – you know.’ Amy’s eyes filled with tears. Ben took her hand and held it in his. To his delight, although hating himself for feeling so in these ghastly circumstances, Amy didn’t push it away.

‘He’s not going to die,’ said Ben. ‘Otherwise it’s a
total waste of my time resuscitating him, and Harry knows how I hate time-wasters.’

Amy smiled a watery smile, and squeezed his hand tight.

After what seemed like hours, a doctor in a white overall came over towards them. He rubbed his eyes, and looked exhausted.

‘Doctor Cloughton,’ he said, extending a hand.

‘Doctor Ben Martin, GP at Riverview Practice.’ Ben shook the hand. ‘We’ve corresponded, but never met before. How’s Harry?’

‘Good to meet you,’ said Dr Cloughton. ‘Well it seems your friend Harry is made of tougher stuff than most of my patients. He has had a heart attack, but a relatively mild one. He’s been lucky. We’ve made him comfortable and we’re about to get him up to the ward.’

‘Can we see him?’ Amy wanted to know.

‘Five minutes,’ said Dr Cloughton.

Harry was sitting up in bed when they got there, looking pale, tired and rather grumpy.

‘Well, you gave us a nasty shock and no mistake,’ said Ben.

‘Next time, don’t bring me back,’ said Harry.

‘There’s gratitude,’ laughed Ben.

‘Ben, I am quite serious,’ said Harry. ‘If it happens again I want it noted that I don’t want to be resuscitated.’

Amy and Ben exchanged anxious glances.

‘You can’t mean that,’ said Ben.

‘You know I can,’ said Harry. ‘I’d have been quite happy to go.’

‘Never mind you,’ Amy joshed Harry as best she could, trying to control the turmoil inside her. ‘What about us?’

Harry looked at her, as if remembering her presence. ‘Don’t take any notice of me,’ he said, ‘I’m feeling a bit grouchy.’

‘Can we get you anything?’ Ben asked. ‘I can pop home and find you some PJs if you like.’

‘Thanks, old boy,’ said Harry. ‘I’m pretty filthy. I was scrabbling in the mud before all of this.’

‘How are you feeling now?’ Amy asked. Although Harry looked a bit better than when she’d first seen him at the allotments, and seemed pretty compos mentis, the sight of him turning so pale and keeling over was going to stay with her for a long time. Thank God Josh hadn’t been with her.

‘I’ve felt better,’ said Harry. ‘I mainly feel tired, if you must know.’