The Nothing Girl (12 page)

I had dinner in solitary state in the little morning room, having refused point-blank to use the awful dining room. The living room seemed cold and bleak and was full of my boxes, so when I’d finished eating, I went to bed.

Mrs Crisp said goodnight gravely and watched me go. I managed to get into my room before the tears started to fall. I curled on the bed and sobbed. Thomas gave me a few minutes before dropping his head and nuzzling my hair. The room filled with the smell of ginger biscuits.

I gulped a bit and pulled myself together.

‘
So,
’ said Thomas. ‘
Was this day as bad as yesterday?
’

‘Not quite.’

‘
Well, there you go then. Progress.
’

‘Thomas, where is he? What could he be doing?’

‘
I don’t know, but he’ll be back soon. He has to be. He lives here.
’

‘He was drunk at the wedding. He didn’t attend the reception, such as it was. Now he’s gone missing. Do you think we should call the police?’

‘
No,
’ said Thomas, firmly.

‘Well, if he hasn’t gone off with Francesca then the only reason he’s not here is because he doesn’t want to be with me.’

‘
Yes, I think you might be right.
’

‘What?’

‘
No, I didn’t mean that. I think he’s too ashamed to show his face. Let’s face it, he frightened you last night, he wakes up this morning and you’re gone. He’s the one who should be panicking, not you. He’ll turn up tomorrow, you just wait and see.
’

Somewhat comforted, I went to bed.

He didn’t turn up tomorrow. I went downstairs for breakfast and now Mrs Crisp looked really anxious. ‘He’s not a bad lad,’ she said. ‘But he does take things to heart sometimes. Always has.’

My thoughts went back to Francesca again, wondering what sort of body blow she had dealt him this time and whether she had done it out of spite, or, more likely, was just too stupid and self-absorbed to realise the damage she had done.

Mrs Crisp disappeared and I slowly finished my breakfast and wondered what to do next.

‘
Boxes,
’ said Thomas, who appeared to have some sort of box fixation. ‘
Get your books arranged and you’ll feel better.
’

So I did, taking my time and arranging them on the half-empty shelves in the living room. Even so, I was finished by lunchtime. I unpacked my laptop and set it to charge.

I looked around the big, cold house and wondered what had happened to the bright, warm world I’d known here only a couple of weeks ago. I went up to my room again.

‘
Jenny, you must stop this,
’ said Thomas. ‘
You moved the world to get away from your aunt and all you’re doing is sitting alone in yet another bedroom. This is your house. You can go wherever you like. Do whatever you like.
’

‘Thomas, I don’t know what to do. I never thought I would be here alone like this. I just don’t know what my role here is. Aunt Julia never lifts a finger except to arrange a flower or two. Mrs Finch does pretty well everything, but I’m not sure that’s for me. But not only do I not know what to do, I don’t know how to do it, either. I could probably plug in a vacuum cleaner, or dust something, but I don’t know how to run a house. What would Mrs Crisp say? What does she want me to do? Being Jenny Checkland is very different from being Jenny Dove.’

‘
Well, tell her.
’

‘What?’

‘
She’s not a monster, Jenny. She’s nice old Mrs Crisp who looked after Russell when his mother died and is probably worried to death, not only about where he is at the moment, but also whether she’s still going to have a job here under the new regime.
’

I hadn’t thought of that. That someone could be even more apprehensive about the future than me. Feeling a little braver, I went downstairs. Lunch was on my own again. I ate slowly and then took my dishes back to the kitchen.

‘Oh, Mrs Checkland, I would have done that.’

‘It’s all right, Mrs Crisp. Can we have some tea, please? I’d like to talk with you.’

She bustled about while I clenched my hands and tried to marshal words in some sort of order. When everything was ready and I couldn’t put it off any longer, I began.

‘I … need your help, Mrs Crisp. I don’t … know what to do. Russell isn’t here to … tell me. I don’t know where he is. I’ve … never run a house. What do I do? … Do I offer to help? It’s a … big house. I should be … doing things. But I … don’t … know what.’

All that took a very long time. At the end, I sipped my tea and didn’t look at her.

She folded and re-folded a tea towel. ‘I’m so pleased to have this opportunity to talk to you, Mrs Checkland. And we certainly don’t need Russell to sort this out. Not that he’d be the slightest use anyway. I don’t know where he is, either, but don’t you worry yourself, my dear. He’s probably not daring to come back because he knows he’s not too big to get a clout round the ear when he does. Properly speaking, of course, that’s your job now. If you need something to stand on, just let me know.’

She looked so fierce, I couldn’t help laughing. I just hoped she’d never come after me with a tea towel!

‘But thank you for your offer, Mrs Checkland. It’s gratefully accepted. I’ve been thinking about this. When the other Mrs Checkland, Russell’s mother, was here, we would get together on Mondays and talk over menus and things and what we needed for the coming week. Then on Fridays, I would present her with the bills and we’d do the accounts. Would you like to start with that?

I could do that. I nodded. This was much easier than I had thought it would be. Across the kitchen, Thomas was nodding encouragement and approval.

‘About the housework,’ she shifted in her chair. I thought this had been too easy. Was some ghastly domestic problem about to present itself and I had to sort it out? I remembered Aunt Julia once saying that any sentence that started with the words, ‘I wonder if I might have a word with you, madam …’ was the lead-in to domestic meltdown. I braced myself.

‘The thing is,’ she said slowly and then straightened her back and carried on more firmly, ‘the thing is, when the other Mrs Checkland was here, there was me, of course, and two women from the village came up to help. Just part-timers, a couple of days a week. When it was just Russell and me, it didn’t matter so much, but now he’s opened up the house again, there’s all these rooms to clean, and Kevin’s here so there’s extra laundry and extra meals, especially if everyone doesn’t eat together, and I’m sorry, Mrs Checkland, but I’m not as young as I used to be and …’ She stopped. I wasn’t the only one who feared for the future.

I patted her hand. Aunt Julia would have thrown a fit – but tastefully, of course.

‘It’s OK, Mrs Crisp. We’ll – I’ll see what I can do.’ I didn’t have a clue, but hopefully, I’d think of something.

If anything, her embarrassment increased. ‘To tell the truth, I’ve already got someone in mind, only I haven’t liked to mention it because, well, she’s a relative and it didn’t seem proper somehow.’

Tired from all that talking, I just raised an eyebrow, but she understood.

‘Actually, I think you might already know her. It’s Sharon Ellis. She used to be a waitress at The Copper Kettle. She’s my niece.’

My mind flew back. ‘Has she left?’’

‘They weren’t very kind to her. And she’s a good girl and a very hard worker. You wouldn’t regret it, Mrs Checkland. She bakes like a dream. She wants her own cake shop one day. That’s why she can only do part-time. She goes to college two days a week.’

‘She sounds ideal.’

She nodded. ‘Thank you, Mrs Checkland. I’ll give her a ring. She’ll be thrilled.’

My first decision as Mrs Checkland. I felt quite proud of myself. And if Russell didn’t like it then he should have bloody well been here to say no.

‘Fine. In the … meantime, shall I lend a hand until she starts?’

‘That would be appreciated, thank you.’

‘I’ve finished my books, so I’ll get rid of the … boxes and dust and hoover the living room.’

It was never going to be that easy.

‘I’ll dust. You hoover.’

‘OK,’ I said, feeling a little bit happy for the first time in ages.

We compromised again that evening. I had a delicious dinner on a tray on my lap in the newly cleaned living room. A fire crackled merrily in the gate. The curtains were closed and I’d switched off the harsh overhead light and just kept the wall lamps. It was the kind of room that looked best in the evening.

Thomas and I watched a little television afterwards. I was relaxed and happy, looking around and thinking how much better everything was looking when the door opened and Russell Checkland walked in.

Chapter Six

My heart stood still. I stared up at the tall figure outlined by firelight and felt absurdly guilty – all my quiet pleasure in the day destroyed. I didn’t know what to do. My legs were underneath me so I was in no position to move quickly, should I have needed to do so.

‘
Calm down,
’ said Thomas. ‘
This is Russell Checkland. You played together when you were children. He took on your Aunt Julia and won. Just sit still and see what happens.
’

The world had stopped. Apart from the crackling fire and the irritatingly irregular tick-tock from the old clock in the corner, there was no sound. Gradually, I began to unclench.

Finally, he spoke. In a choked voice, he said, ‘Sorry.’

He stepped forward as he said it and I was shocked. I don’t know what had happened or where he’d been and I wasn’t going to ask, but he was suffering. The shadows around his eyes were dreadful. At some point, he’d slept in his clothes. Even now, he wasn’t completely sober. And he was exhausted. His hands were shaking. What could have done this to him?

I should say something, but I was so shocked that nothing was going to get through, so I stepped up to him and gently touched his arm. Close up, he smelled of drink, stale clothes, and sweat.

I went out into the kitchen. Mrs Crisp turned from the stove. I think she’d been crying. She said, ‘If you can get him upstairs, I’ll bring tea and maybe you can get him to eat some toast.’

That seemed a good idea, so I went back into the living room. He still stood exactly where I’d left him.

I took his hand and led him to his bedroom. He followed like a child.

I’m not sure what I’d expected his room to be like but it was just an ordinary room. Bigger than usual, with the crimson-covered bed on a small platform, but, apart from that, it was completely normal. Given its owner, I’d expected more. Some artistic statement maybe, or even monastic austerity, but there was nothing to grasp. No clues as to its owner’s character. Maybe he was afraid to reveal his inmost self. Maybe he didn’t know how. Everything was clean and in its proper place, but – bleak. Sad. Empty. In my head, I groped for the right word. Desolate. A room of disappointment. A framed photo of his mother stood on a chest of drawers by the window, but though I looked around as discreetly as I could, I couldn’t see any of Francesca anywhere. If they had been here, they were gone now.

I sat him on the bed and pulled off his jacket and shoes. His clothes were wet. I said, ‘Undress,’ and went to run the shower. When I came out, he was just pulling his shirt over his head. Apart from that one word, he still hadn’t said a thing.

I held the bathroom door open and he walked in. Closing it behind him, I turned down the bed and then picked up his clothes.

Mrs Crisp knocked gently. She passed me the tray, I handed her his wet things. She wouldn’t come in. This was my job now. I put the tray on the bedside table.

He emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his hair dry and sat on the bed, not looking at me.

I said, ‘Mrs Crisp brought you a tray,’ and turned to walk out. He caught my wrist and seemed to be struggling for words. Welcome to my world.

I said, ‘Do you want to talk to me?’

He nodded, so I pulled up a chair and sat down.

Nothing was emerging from this promising beginning, so I poured him some tea, sat quietly, and waited. No one knew better than me how tough this was.

He sipped the tea but pushed the toast away. I never thought I’d see Russell Checkland reject food.

He put his mug down and said, without looking at me, ‘I saw Francesca. The night before we were to be married. She told me she loved me. That she never should have agreed to marry Daniel. That it was me. Had always been me. Everything I’d always wanted to hear. She – offered herself.’

I could feel Thomas close beside me, doing everything he could. I leaned towards him for strength and comfort, not wanting to hear any more.

He told me anyway, his voice thick with exhaustion, grief, and, I think, shame.

‘It was what I’d always wanted. I’d wanted her for so long. She was coming back to me. I grabbed her. She smelled just the same. I …’

For God’s sake, don’t tell me this. What did he think he was doing?

I rose from the chair to run away.

He grabbed my wrist again. His voice cracked. ‘No, don’t go. You have to know.’

‘No, I don’t,’ I said, and struggled with him.

Thomas laid back his ears and bared his teeth. The atmosphere in the room suddenly got very ugly indeed.

Russell was aware of it without knowing why. I was never alone. He let me go, holding up his arms in a gesture of surrender.

‘Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.’ A flash of the old Russell came back. ‘As you see, Jenny, I’ve made a bit of a mess of things.’ Then it was gone again. His eyes clouded and his mouth set in a harsh, ugly line.

‘I … I said no. She laughed. I pushed her away. She hit me. It wasn’t pretty. She cried. She was nearly hysterical. I wouldn’t … She spat at me. I held her until she was calm. I was crying myself. I gave her some water. She left. I didn’t sleep.

‘The next morning she came back. In that dress. She took my breath away. I rang Andrew. Said I’d meet him there. I didn’t want him coming here and seeing her.’

‘
You see, he always meant to go through with it,
’ said Thomas. ‘
That’s encouraging.
’

‘She said I’d never marry you. That you weren’t – never mind. She thought it was a scheme to make her jealous. She mocked. I got angry and threw her out. Literally. I pushed her into the car and told her never to come back. I may have hurt her. I was sorry afterwards. She begged me. I said I had a new life now. She drove away. I went into town. Parked somewhere. Had a drink to calm down. It didn’t help, so I had another. And then some more. Then I got married.

‘Afterwards I … After we were married, I didn’t know what to do. I told myself to go somewhere and sober up and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the wildly misnamed honeymoon suite and you had gone. I thought you’d gone back to your aunt. I wouldn’t have blamed you.’

I topped up his tea.

‘If you want to go, I’ll understand and I’ll do everything I can to help you. Between us, we can fix this. You know what I mean.’

He wanted me to go.

I panicked. Full-blown, flat-out panic that robbed me of all speech, thought, movement, almost life itself. Everything just came apart and I was falling.

‘
Breathe,
’ said Thomas, softly. ‘
Breathe, my darling girl. Just breathe.
’

I did and the world came back into focus again.

Russell passed me his tea. ‘Here. Drink some of this.’

Things began to reassemble. My first thoughts were full of fear.

I was to be divorced. Annulled. Whatever. I couldn’t go back to live with Aunt Julia. She’d never let me out of her sight again. I wouldn’t even be able to go to the library on my own. They might even decide it was time for ‘that special place’.

My next thoughts were angry. This marriage was his idea. He’d pushed it through. He’d made a deal. We’d made a deal. I provided the cash. He provided the home. And now, because of that … because of Francesca, who only had to lift her beautifully manicured little finger, he was going to throw his bright, new start to the four winds and pull what little remained of his life down around his own ears. And mine.

My next thoughts were of others. Francesca wouldn’t live here. This wasn’t designer dilapidation. This was the real thing. She’d hate it. She’d make him sell. Without my money, he’d have to. Even if he got a reasonable price for it – which he wouldn’t – Francesca was expensive and sooner or later, the money would be gone. And then Francesca would be gone. Again.

And if he did induce her to live here, she would have Mrs Crisp out in a flash. An eccentric housekeeper who drank a bottle of sherry a day was not Francesca’s style at all. She’d make her go. Or, more likely, she’d make Russell do it and that would break both their hearts.

And Kevin, granted a brief cruel glimpse of normal life before being shunted back on to the streets again where he certainly wouldn’t survive.

And Boxer; what would become of a neurotic ex-racehorse who could be terrorised by a line of washing flapping in the breeze?

I looked at the state of him and wondered whether to talk to him now or go back to my room, which was what every bit of me clamoured to do. Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning when everyone was calmer.

Even as I watched him, he opened his eyes. ‘Jenny, are you able to speak to me?’

I nodded.

‘The most important thing at the moment is that you don’t suffer from my stupidity. I will sort all this out. I’ll make sure you’re all right, you’ll see.’

I felt a spurt of unaccustomed anger run through me.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Checkland, just stop with that … bollocks, will you?

That pulled him up short.

‘I’ve lost count of the … number of times you’ve said that to me. Lies then. Lies now.’

It was probably a bit like being savaged by a wet tissue, but it was effective in its unexpectedness. He looked completely taken aback. I remembered Tanya, who dealt with Andrew simply by announcing what she was going to do and then going right ahead and doing it. I took advantage of his surprise.

‘Exactly what do you want, Russell?’

He gaped at me. ‘What?’

‘A … simple question. Until three days ago, you wanted … me. My money, anyway. You wanted this house. To paint again. To have a fresh start. Now you say you don’t want me. Now it’s Francesca … Make up your … mind, Russell and … let … me … know.’

I got up. I’d shot my bolt. I needed to go somewhere quiet. Thomas came forward and stood between us. My shield.

‘
Well, that was unexpected but satisfactory. Let’s go now while he’s still trying to regain his wits. Always have the last word.
’

We headed towards the door.

‘Wait, Jenny, come back a minute.’

‘
Don’t go back. Stand by the door and look as if you can’t wait to get away. Yes, that’s very good.
’

‘I don’t want you to leave.’

I looked at the tray. ‘You’ve got tea and toast. Everything you need.’

‘No, I mean I don’t want you to leave Frogmorton. I told you I sent her away. I was just trying to tell you what happened. To offer you the option. Where did you get the idea I wanted you to go? I meant what I said about a new beginning. We did get married, didn’t we?’

‘You call this a … marriage?’

My shout surprised all of us.

‘You were drunk. You turned up with your mistress. You –ʼ

‘She’s not my mistress.’

His shout bounced off the walls.

‘You’re not sleeping with her?’

‘No.’

‘But …’

‘Oh, I don’t deny I would have and there have been some steamy sessions that drove me insane, but no. Until she turned up here …’ He stopped.

‘So her plan is that I move out, she leaves Daniel, and you install her in my place?’

I have to say, put that baldly, it did sound bad, but that wasn’t the real reason for the look on his face. He was rummaging through his probably very hazy memories of the last few days and realising …

‘
She never told him she would leave Daniel. She’s never going to leave Daniel. Or his money. Or his nice house. Or his useful contacts. She just wanted Russell to call off the wedding. She wants sole ownership of Russell Checkland. I tell you, Jenny, if you don’t stand your ground now, she’ll get it. Think of the damage she can do. If you let her.
’

‘What can I do?’

‘
You’ve got to fight for him, Jenny. If you think he’s worth it.
’

I looked at Russell again, worn out, emotionally and physically. I thought of those few golden weeks and contrasted them against the bitter humiliation of this marriage. How had I managed to get myself into this? Had I really been so stupid as to fall for the unorthodox charm of Russell Checkland?

Apparently, yes.

Idiot!

I turned to the door again. The emotional strain of the last three days had taken its toll on everyone and I just wanted to get away.

‘Jenny.’

I went back to the bed, took his empty mug from him, and set it down.

‘Go to sleep, Russell. Talk tomorrow.’

He struggled to sit back up again. ‘Will you still be here?’

‘I have to be. I left my home for you. Unlike you, I don’t have choices.’

‘
Excellent exit line,
’ said Thomas.

Mrs Crisp was coming down the corridor with a mug of hot chocolate.

‘I thought you might like this, Mrs Checkland.’ She peered into my face. ‘Oh, my dear.’

I allowed her to help me to my room. She settled me on the bed and spread a soft blanket across my legs.

‘Don’t you come down again tonight. I’ll lock up and see to everything. You just rest now. Things will seem better in the morning.’

I nodded, still clutching the too-hot mug.

She said sadly, ‘He’s just a lost boy, you know.’

After she’d gone, I got up and locked the door. Not that there was the slightest reason to do so, but I felt I was making a statement.

I sat in the window seat and stared out over the dark garden.

‘
I was proud of you, Jenny. You really stepped up there.
’

I shook my head.

‘
Don’t you remember? When we first met, you asked me why I was here and I told you that you were special. Well, you just proved it. I’ve always known and now others will know it too.
’

I was angry. ‘Thomas …’

‘
I know,
’ he said, gently
.
‘
But as always, you underestimate yourself. The rest of the world does too, including that idiot in the next room, and that’s fine because by the time they realise their mistake, you’ll have everything you want. But don’t you fall into the same trap.
’

‘But …’

‘
If life was easy then everyone would get it right first time. A few do. You might be one of them.
’

He’d changed. In this last hour he’d become – tougher.

So had I, I think. We had a future to fight for.