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Authors: Laurie Ellingham

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‘Not exactly. It just seemed a bit suspect to me. But
then I thought there’s no way you’d be stupid enough to say anything to a
journalist after everything that’s happened to you.’

‘Gee thanks,’ Jules muttered, taking a mouthful of tea to
hide her embarrassment.

‘Enough of that now you two,’ Terri broke in. ‘Rich, we
need your help. Do you think you could nip to the
Cash and Carry
before
Saturday? We need some supplies for a party this Saturday up at Jules’ house.’          

‘So you’re going to try and buy our forgiveness are you?’
Rich looked at Jules.

‘Exactly,’ Terri answered for her.

Rich smiled, ‘Count me in then.’

‘Brilliant. Now what brings you here?’

‘I was thinking of asking the two of you for a favour and
when I saw Jules’ car outside it seemed like a sign.’

Jules moved her gaze to Terri, exchanging a confused
look.

‘The Nag needs a serious overhaul. I’ve been thinking
about it for a while now but I just don’t know where to begin. It looks okay in
the winter months when it’s dark outside and you can’t see all the cigarette
burns in the carpet or the places where the wallpaper has peeled away from the
wall, but in the sunlight it looks a bit dilapidated.

‘So I thought with your eye for interiors,’ Rich nodded towards
Jules, ‘and your decorating background Terri, that the two of you might consider
working together to give the pub a facelift. I’d pay you of course,’ he added.

A silence fell in the room as Jules and Terri turned to
each other and waited for the other to speak.

‘Well,’ Jules began, ‘if I’m staying in Cottinghale I
will need a job of some kind, and if Dan and Jason are heading off to Uni this
year, you might need another pair of hands,’ she said to Terri, feeling a
sudden bout of nerves float inside her stomach as if she was asking for a first
date.

‘I don’t know,’ Terri shook her head. ‘You are awfully
bossy Lovey, and what with the ceiling and the stairs it might be bad luck for
me to work with you.’

‘Oh.’

A smile lit up her face, ‘Lovey, I’m kidding. Of course I
want to work with you. I can’t think of anything more fun in fact.’

‘And speak to Bob and Sally too, I hear they’re thinking
of converting one of their barns into a lodge for hikers,’ Rich added.

‘This calls for a celebration. More tea all round,’ Terri
said, dashing towards the kitchen.

Rich crossed the room, taking Terri’s place on the sofa.
‘About the other night-,’ he began in a low voice.

‘Shit, I’d forgotten about that too,’ Jules exclaimed,
her face glowing a bright red. ‘Rich, I’m so sorry. I’ve made a total of fool
of myself in front of you so many times now, I don’t know what to say.’

‘Don’t worry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,
that’s all.’

‘Me? I’m fine,’ Jules replied, swallowing back a lump in
her throat.

‘Sure?’

Jules turned her face away, sucking in her bottom lip as
she fought the sudden emotions clouding her vision.

‘Want to talk about it?’

She shook her head as the tears began to fall. ‘I’ve
ruined everything.’

‘Come on, what harm can it do?’

‘That’s what the journalist said last night,’ Jules
replied with a weak smile.

For a moment Jules said nothing and then with a deep
breath and a pang of regret that she’d not confided in her friends to begin
with, Jules starting speaking.

She began with the day Guy had walked her to the lecture
hall and finished with the note Mrs Beckwith had handed her that morning and
the apology printed below her interview.

At one point Terri had brought a tray of drinks into the
room and sat between them on the sofa, taking Jules hand and squeezing it every
so often.

‘So, like I said,’ Jules added with a shaky breath. ‘I’ve
ruined it.’

‘Call him,’ Rich declared.

‘Go down and see him,’ Terri added.

‘I tried to call but his mobile is off and his voicemail is
full. I have no idea which hospital his sister is in, not that I could just
turn up there whilst she’s ill. It’s too late for that anyway. He’ll see the paper
and think I’m the worst kind of bitch. He has no idea that I didn’t get the
note.

‘It’s not too late Jules,’ Rich replied. ‘You may not
have heard Guy play the other night but we did and he is so in love with you
that not even a million stories like this could change his mind. All his songs
were about how sorry he is for what he did to you and how much he loves you.’

‘But
what do I do?’

 ‘There
is one thing,’ Rich replied.

‘What?

‘You’re
not going to like it.’

‘What?’

By
the time Rich had finished explaining his plan the three mugs of untouched tea
had gone cold and nothing but darkness could be seen outside the window.

‘You’re
right, I don’t like it,’ Jules said, unsure whether to laugh or cry. ‘I thought
Terri’s idea of a party was crazy, but this is just nuts.’

‘I
hate to say it Lovey,’ Terri began, ‘but Rich is right.’    

‘What
other choices have you got?’ he added.

Jules
thought for a moment before replying: ‘None I guess.’

‘There
you go then.’

‘Just
like that?’

‘Just
like that,’ he agreed. ‘Here. Use my phone.’ Rich pulled out a mobile from his
pocket and handed it to Jules.

‘Now?’

‘Why
not?’

Jules
paused for a moment, staring at the blank screen as her heart thundered in her
chest.

Rich
stretched across the sofa and gave her a shove. ‘Go on.’

What
other choices did she have? Jules repeated to herself as she dialled the number
and held the phone to her ear.

 A
familiar voice greeted her.

Thirty-six

Jules
opened her eyes as the first rays of light crept into her bedroom.

Her
bedroom, she repeated to herself. She liked the sound of it. 

Even
though her bedroom had faded pink floral wallpaper, moulding a gloopy brown
around the window, and a dirty grey carpet still rolled up halfway into the room
where the damage to the ceiling below had been repaired, she loved it.

From
the moment Terri and Rich had encouraged her to stay, Jules had found herself
falling in love with every rotting, broken part of her home. So much so, that
as soon as the stairs had been fitted on Wednesday morning, she’d packed her
bags at the guesthouse, given Mrs Beckwith a long hug and moved in.

So
what if she had to boil the kettle six times to get enough warm water to wash.
Or put on a jumper and two pairs of socks on before climbing under the duvet.
Waking up in her house, correction, her home, was worth it.

Her
knees screamed in protest as she dragged herself out of the bed and shuffled
towards the bathroom. The pain a reminder of the long day she’d spent on all
fours waxing the floorboards in the living room and hall.

As
she passed the landing her gaze fell automatically to her new staircase.

Jules
would never have imagined that something as functional as a staircase could
alter the entire feel of the house. She loved to put her hands on either side
of the matching dark wood banisters as she descended down each step.

For
every steep and narrow step of the old staircase there were two wide ones to
lead her gently up or down.

She
even had a favourite step - the forth one from the bottom. As she made her way
down the stairs, it was the first one to twist away from the wall and angle her
into the bright white hallway.

 It
somehow made her feel more graceful. Jules even found herself standing up
straighter and lifting her head whenever she made her way up or down the
stairs.

She
especially liked her descent. Whereas the upstairs of her home still remained
untouched, the downstairs had been transformed, thanks to Terri, Dan and
Jason’s hard work. Bright white walls greeted her in every room, contrasting to
the rich wood of the floorboards now shining rich dark brown.  

She
had no furniture yet, and the lino in the kitchen seemed stuck to the floor,
but her house had fast become liveable. If she could pick up a second hand
sofa, and find a plumber to fix her boiler then she would be happy to stay
forever.

The
forest of weeds in the back garden, the kitchen floor and cardboards, adding an
en-suite, removing the carpets and wallpaper upstairs, and all of the other
jobs on her growing list would have to wait. As of next week, Jules would be
working on her house in what little spare time she had.

News
of the design and decorating business she’d formed with Terri had spread faster
than Jules could have imagined. They had enough work in Cottinghale and the
surrounding villages to keep them busy for the next six months.

Even
Stan had grumbled about changing the layout of his shop to include a space for
a coffee counter and a few chairs.

When
she put down her paintbrush each evening, rubbed moisturiser into the blisters
on her hands and climbed into bed, she would close her eyes expecting sleep to come
easily. But instead, ideas would bounce around her head until she had to turn on
the light and write them down. She’d already filled one notebook alone on
designs for Sally and Bob’s barn conversion.

Somewhere
along the way, Jules’ focus had moved from creating a beautiful home to making
a profit as fast as possible. She’d forgotten how exciting it was to start with
a blank piece of paper and finish with a brand new room. It made her feel
alive.

Jules
stared at her reflection in the old bathroom mirror as bright sunlight shone
through the window. She didn’t recognise the person staring back.

Terri
had spent an hour the previous day rummaging through Jules’ clothes until she found
an outfit that she like. It was a deep purple knitted dress that Jules couldn’t
even remember buying.

Fulfilling
her promise to Terri, she’d let her hair dry in loose curls down her shoulders
and for the first time in years put more than just a wisp of mascara on her
face.

She’d
followed their plans to the letter, and up until that moment had even believed it
might work. But now it was happening, she wasn’t so sure.

He
should have been here by now.

Her
house was ready. Five boxes of wine and extra glasses from The Nag sat ready to
be used in her kitchen and Sally and Bob’s barbeque had been placed on the bare
earth by the driveway ready for the sausages.

She
could hear Terri and the boys moving around below her, opening bags of nibbles
and adding last minute touches to the house. Any minute now her parents would
be arriving, and an hour after that the first of the guests would start
knocking on the door.

He
wasn’t coming. Rich’s plan had failed, she thought with a gripping sadness.

Just
then Jules heard the unmistakable sputter of her father’s twenty-year old
exhaust pull into the driveway and she pushed the thought aside.

She
had her home, she had her friends and she had Cottinghale. It was so much more
than she’d had for so long and it would have to be enough. Guy wasn’t coming.

As
Jules stepped into the afternoon sun to greet her parents, she could smell the
sweet freshness of spring rolling down from the valley. The air still held a
chill, but the promise of warmth carried in the light breeze.

 ‘Juliet,’
her mother screeched, jumping from their faded blue Volvo estate. ‘You look so
beautiful. Doesn’t she look beautiful Bernie? And this house, it’s amazing.’

‘Thanks
mum,’ Jules replied, steadying herself as her mother pulled her into the folds
of her bright orange pashmina and held her tight.

 ‘You’re
father and I are so proud of you.’

‘Thanks,’
Jules murmured through the thick mist of her mother’s treacle sweet perfume.
The smell flooding her with warm memories of her childhood. The reassurance
blanketing the jumble of nerves and disappointment dancing in her stomach.

‘Did
you find it okay?’ Jules asked as she untangled herself from Nora’s embrace.

‘Just
about,’ her father smiled, pecking her on the cheek. ‘I wrote out the
directions last night, but you know your mum, she always knows best.’

‘Shut
up Bernie,’ Nora laughed. ‘We found it didn’t we?’

‘Yes
dear,’ he replied, winking at Jules. ‘We are so glad to be here,’ her father
added, squeezing her shoulder.

‘Come
on in. I want you to meet my friend Terri, and her two sons – Dan and Jason.
They’ve been helping me with the house,’ Jules said, leading her parents into
the kitchen.

‘This
is amazing,’ her mother repeated as they stepped into the kitchen. ‘Oh my, what
strapping young men,’ she added, catching sight of Dan and Jason hovering by an
open packet of cheese puffs.

‘Dan,
Jason, Terri, these are my parents’ – Nora and Bernie. Anyone for tea?’ she
added as they greeted each other.

‘Oh
I think we can do better than that,’ her mother replied, retrieving a bottle of
champagne from the fabric shopping bag she carried with her everywhere.

 ‘Perfect,’
Terri agreed. ‘Why don’t I pour whilst you show your mum and dad around? Dan,
Jason, you’d better go to before you eat all the food.’

‘Thanks
Terri, here-’

‘Shhh.
Did you hear that?’ Bernie asked suddenly.

‘Don’t
you start Dad,’ Jules smiled. ‘Terri’s already convinced this place is
haunted.’

‘No
I’m serious, I definitely heard something upstairs.’     

‘It’s
just the old plumbing. I’ve got someone coming out next week to look at it.
Come on I’ll show you around.’

Before
her father could disagree, Jules beckoned them out of the kitchen, leading her
parents from room to room, pointing out the work they’d done and talking
through the list of tasks still ahead of her.

Such
a lovely staircase,’ her mother cooed.

‘Thanks
mum. Terri picked it out. The old one fell down.’

‘NO,’
Nora replied in disbelief, running her hand over the twisted spindles.

‘There...I
heard it again,’ Bernie cut in.

‘What?’
Jules, Dan and Jason asked in unison.

‘Shhh.’

No
one dared breathe as they listed to the distinctive sound of shuffling from
above them.

‘It’s
the plumbing,’ Jules repeated with a little less conviction.

‘It’s
a sort of flapping noise,’ Bernie disagreed. ‘Since when did pipes flap?

‘And
a spooky woman’s cry,’ Jason added with a grin, nudging his brother.

Bernie turned to his
daughter. ‘Juliet, have you looked inside your loft yet?’

‘Honestly
dad, this place is not haunted.’

‘I’ll
get the ladder,’ Dan smirked, already moving towards one of the bedrooms where
they’d hidden all of the tools.

Two
minutes later, they all stood holding the bottom of the ladder whilst Dan balanced
on top, sliding the loft hatch out of the way before his head disappeared into
the darkness.

‘Holy
shit,’ a voice called down from above.

‘What
is it?’ Jules demanded.

‘You’d
better take a look for yourself,’ Dan called as he hoisted himself off the
ladder, his body disappearing into the loft.

‘Oh
my god, it’s a ghost isn’t it?’ Terri cried in a shrill voice.

Jules
hopped up the ladder and poked her head into the darkness. She had no idea what
she expected to see, but nothing prepared her for the hollow black eyes that
greeted her.

Perched
less than a metre away on a long roof beam sat two huge barn owls. Their cream
feathers shimmering in the sunlight streaming in from a hole to the side of her
house.

‘Wow.’

‘They
are beautiful,’ Dan whispered.

‘What
is it?’ Terri called out from below.

‘Shhh,’
Dan and Jules said together.

At
that moment, one of the owls lifted its wings slightly to reveal two small baby
owls, one cream and one brown, hiding beneath them.

‘Holy
shit, they are amazing,’ Dan said, creeping slowly back to the loft hatch.

‘Come
on, let’s leave them to it,’ Jules said, stepping back down.

‘Well?’
Nora asked.

‘Owls,’
Jules said.

‘A
whole family of them,’ Dan added, placing the hatch back in place. ‘Two adults
and two babies.’

‘But
what about the ghosts?’ Terri asked in a timid voice.

‘I
think they are the ghosts,’ Jules replied, placing her arm around Terri.

‘Oh.’
Her friend frowned, her cheeks turning crimson.

‘What
are you going to do about them?’ Jason asked.

‘Nothing
for now. They’re not going to do any more damage than they already have done. I’ll
wait a few weeks until the babies are older and then I suppose I’ll call the
local vets.’

‘Right
then,’ Bernie began. ‘Now that we’ve sorted that one out, how about that
champagne?’

‘That’s
why I married you Bernard,’ Nora patted his arm. ‘Always the first to suggest a
drink.’  

Only
after Jules had taken a sip of champagne and the bubbles had mingled with the
fizzing nerves building in her stomach, did her mother pull out a copy of
The
Daily
.

‘I
assume you’ve seen this?’ she asked.

Jules
nodded, the disappointment returning.

‘And?’
her mother asked in an excited voice.

‘Nothing,’
Jules shrugged.

‘Nothing
yet,’ Terri added.

‘Don’t
worry love,’ Nora began, reading the sadness in her daughter’s face. ‘The best
love stories have to go through turmoil before the happy ending.

Just think of Romeo and
Juliet. Where do you think your father and I picked your name from?’

‘But
they died at the end Mum.’

‘No
love, they were together for eternity.’

‘Oh.
I’m not sure that was the ending I was hoping for,’ Jules replied with a sad smile.

BOOK: The Reluctant Celebrity
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