I lean into him and let the tears fall. Then I feel Hamish try to push his body in between us, his big stupid head nuzzling against my chin as he tries to comfort his would-be murderer. ‘Get off, you silly animal,’ I say. Then I start to laugh, but the crying doesn’t stop.
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘You must be good today,’ I say to Tom and Jessica as they finish their cereal – even though they always are. They both nod solemnly and I love them for it. I pick up two headless mice by their tails and deposit them in the bin. ‘And you.’ Hamish wags his tail. I’m not sure that I’m overly delighted that Hamish is still in our household, but here he very much is.
Guy has promised me that he will look for someone who would consider taking Hamish on permanently when we move back to London. I notice that, despite sticking up for Hamish, he’s not in a busting hurry to do it himself. Wonder why that is? Anyway, whatever happens, there’s no way that dog is coming back to Notting Hill with us. How can we? It might break my children’s hearts, but it will break mine more to take him.
This morning the offending animal has pooed – whole – a pair of my black lace panties. I’m very tempted not to bin them but just put them through the washing machine. It would feel like some kind of triumph. But I haven’t lowered my standards to that level yet.
‘Guy is going to look after you all day,’ I tell them for the third time in the hope that they’ll remember.
They both nod vacantly and I realise that I’ve exceeded my nagging quota for today.
Of course, I’d booked my busy day in London before I recalled that the school was shut for a teacher training day. I’m trying to be efficient, organised, straight-thinking, but am failing at every turn. Managing without Will is just so much harder than I’d ever thought possible. The pain of his absence seems to get sharper every day. It often felt as if I was shouldering the entire burden of domestic responsibility on my own when we were married, but clearly I wasn’t.
I did think about dragging the kids down to Town with me, but that would have been impossible. Serena’s away on a conference in Belgium for a few days, so she isn’t around to help either. Before I cancelled it all again, Guy, like a knight in shining armour, stepped into the breech. I’m not sure that he knows exactly what he’s letting himself in for. He’s offered to do the animal duties this evening and I was up at the crack of dawn this morning to do my part.
‘Mummy’s going to be late home.’ I’ve got a diary full of appointments. First I’m going to see my old boss, Gavin Morrison, to see what opportunities are available for me back at the British Television Company. Hopefully, Jocelyn is making a terrible fist of my job and they’ll be only too grateful to give it back to me again. Failing that scenario, there are a couple of other great jobs at the BTC that I’ve had my eye on for years. This may be the time to start completely afresh.
I’ve emailed three of my old friends and I’m hooking up with them for lunch at the hot celebrity restaurant 24/7 and I can’t wait. It’s been months since I’ve eaten decent food at ridiculous prices. In the afternoon, I have a meeting with the Headteacher of Tom and Jessica’s old school so that I can re-register them in time for the new term in January. Not sure what I’ll do if the house sale hasn’t completed by then, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
Finally, I’m catching up with the solicitor to get my finances in order and sort out Will’s affairs. Then I’ll know how much money will be available to us and I can make firm plans. A wave of nausea rises from my stomach when I think of doing all this without my husband by my side.
I hear the crunch of Guy’s tyres in the gravel of the drive as he swings in. Bang on time. They’re all going to drop me at the station first, before Tom and Jessica go off for the day with Guy.
He knocks on the kitchen door and then pops his head round. ‘Everyone ready? We need to be moving to catch that train.’
Hamish charges headlong into his saviour. I say nothing as the dog tries to wrangle Guy into the missionary position. ‘Down, boy!’ Guy tries unsuccessfully. ‘Down!’
‘Coats on,’ I say to the kids who are much more obedient, and then I fling the dishes in the sink for later attention – which means that the cat will probably lick them clean before I get home.
‘Okay?’ Guy asks breathlessly as he holds the door open for me to climb in his car.
‘Yes,’ I answer. ‘Fine. Thanks for doing this.’
‘You’re welcome.’
There’s a little awkwardness now between Guy and me since I turned into Rambo and wanted to go on a Hamish shooting spree. He handles me with kid gloves in case I should go to pieces again. And I try to avoid thinking how nice it felt to be held by him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
They waved Amy off at the station and then he’d loaded Tom, Jessica and Hamish all back in the car.
The first part of Guy’s plan was to wear Hamish out. And maybe the kids too. It was the first time he’d performed babysitting duties and he wasn’t sure how easy it was going to be. This morning they could all let off steam. This afternoon he needed them well-behaved. Already, he was sure that was going to be much easier to achieve with Tom and Jessica rather than Hamish.
He’d taken the precaution of buying in supplies so that they wouldn’t get hungry – not too much crap, sugar-free fruit juices and healthy snacks such as flapjacks and dried fruit. Hamish sat in the front seat, while Tom and Jessica occupied the back seat as they wound their way out of Scarsby, through the pretty villages, climbing the increasingly steep hills and up onto the moors.
It was a bright, sunny day – which was just as well as the moors could be the bleakest place on earth when it was pouring down with rain and Guy was sure that the kids wouldn’t be so easily entertained then. They reached the top and Jessica and Tom jumped out of the car to open the gate that protected the farmers’ fields. He inched forwards in the car and the cows that wandered freely across the road, reluctantly moved their bulk back towards the grazing land. When the children were back in the car they headed to the top of Staincliffe Tarn and parked in the scrubby little car park. Today, theirs was the only vehicle there. In the summer, when the hordes of tourists descended, you couldn’t move in this place. Now they had the freedom of the moors to themselves and it was at this time of year that Guy loved it the best.
Out of the cosy fug of the car, the strong breeze had a bite to it and he was glad to see that Amy had sensibly given the children warm coats to wear. Hamish jumped out of the car and shook himself, showering them all with slobber.
‘Tell me that you’re going to be good today,’ Guy warned. ‘I have a point to prove.’
Hamish woofed and Guy took it as tacit agreement. After all, this dog owed him one. ‘Ready?’
The children nodded their heads and they all set off towards the tarn. As there were no sheep around for him to worry, Guy unclipped Hamish from his leash and let him run free. He only hoped that the dog would come back, but he’d taken the precaution of pocketing a few dog biscuits just in case.
White clouds whipped across the sky, buffeted by the breeze. The surface of the tarn shivered in response too. Hamish raced back and ran round and round in circles, tongue flying as he went. Jessica scampered off with him, hands held wide trying to catch the wind, long hair streaming behind her. He wondered if Amy and Will had brought the children up here together. He didn’t think so. Maybe they’d just been too busy settling in at Helmshill Grange to explore their surroundings more fully. He was sure that the family had hardly moved out of the village since their father died. He felt so sorry for the kids and he hoped that today he’d been able to take a little pressure off Amy while she did what she had to do.
‘Ever skimmed stones?’ he said to Tom as they approached the lake.
The little boy shook his head. ‘Daddy said he was going to teach me,’ he babbled happily. ‘But . . .’ then his voice suddenly cracked, ‘he never did.’
Guy bent down and slipped his arm
around Tom. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m probably nowhere near as good as your dad, but maybe I could teach you instead.’
Tom nodded, brushing away a tear surreptitiously. Guy picked up some flat stones. ‘These are just perfect. Feel how smooth they are.’
The boy nodded again as he rubbed the stones, his smile slowly returning.
‘Take them like this.’ Guy showed him how to angle the stones in his hand. ‘Stay low.’ They both crouched down. ‘Then let fly!’
The stone sailed from Tom’s hand and bounced once, twice, three times across the tarn.
The boy turned to him with a big grin on his face which Guy was relieved to see. ‘Top stone-skimmer!’ Guy said and they high-fived each other.
They entertained themselves happily for the next half-hour, Jessica even deigning to have a couple of goes, even though it was a boy’s thing. Then they walked round the tarn, Hamish blazing the trail.
‘That was fun,’ Tom said.
‘Bet your dad saw you doing that.’
‘Think so?’
‘Yeah. I’m sure.’
Tom grinned again. Jessica came alongside him and quietly slipped her tiny hand in his. Suddenly, Guy could see the attractions of family life. He’d been so convinced that he’d wanted to stay a bachelor after losing Laura. It hadn’t taken much for these children to find the chink in his armour. Guy smiled to himself. Life on your own wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He was sure that Amy was finding that.
He looked down at Tom and Jessica. It had been a surprise how much fun they’d had together. Amy might not consider another relationship for years and he couldn’t blame her for that – so he would be mad to get his hopes up there. But, out of the blue, he was beginning to think that a life that included a couple of kids and a mad-ass dog might not be so bad after all.
‘Hungry?’ he asked. The kids both nodded as they headed back to the car. So far, it had been a perfect morning. Except that it was clearly too good to last. As he opened the box of goodies that he’d stashed in the boot, Guy could see that someone else had been there before him.
‘Hamish!’ The dog was slinking away across the car park, belly low to the ground.
All that was left of the snack bars was some half-chewed foil wrappers.
‘Oh, well,’ Guy sighed. ‘Looks like we’ll have to go back to Poppy’s for some hot chocolate and chocolate chip muffins.’
By the way the children cheered, that would go down far better than the healthy option. At least he’d tried.
‘Hamish,’ Guy shouted. ‘Get back here now!’ And, amazingly, the dog bounded over and jumped straight into the passenger seat.
He was a natural at this, Guy thought proudly. Two angelic children and a near-angelic dog. Why hadn’t he tried it before?
Chapter Thirty-Six
I’m sitting in the reception of the British Television Company by eleven o’clock after an uneventful train journey. I couldn’t believe how busy the Tube seemed to be this morning. Perhaps I’ve just got out of practice over the last few months, but I really struggled to cope with all those people squashed in a small space and I couldn’t help but think of the journey I’d taken with Will when he’d first had his wobble. I kept getting horrible flashbacks and I was glad to get off.
It seems strange that I have to be escorted to my old office now that my security pass is long gone. Frankly, I can’t wait to get back into the fray here. Say goodbye to chickens and hello to celebrities once more. Bye-bye wellies, hello Jimmy Choos. One wall is covered with a bank of enormous LCD televisions screening a wide variety of the station’s output. Last night’s episode of Sports Quiz is among them and I hum along to the familiar theme tune, a pang of longing twisting my insides. I can feel the adrenaline pumping in my veins just being here. Just let me get back behind my desk doing what I do best. This would really help me so much. I’m sure that Will would want me to do this too. He’d know that this was right for me.
Gavin Morrison, my old boss, keeps me waiting for half an hour – which I’m not particularly happy about. I know about the pressures of work and all that, but I’ve got a schedule to stick to as well. I need to be back on the six o’clock train out of King’s Cross station to have any hope of getting home tonight.
Eventually, Gavin’s perky assistant appears and escorts me through the security checks and into the building. In his office, Gavin greets me warmly with a hug and an air kiss. I sit down in the chair opposite him.
He rubs his hands together. ‘Tea, coffee?’
‘A coffee would be great.’ Gavin nods at his assistant and, efficiently, she disappears to do her duty.
‘It feels good to be back here.’
‘Good, good,’ he says, leaning back in his executive chair.
I fiddle nervously with my hands and try not to.
‘We were all sorry – deeply sorry – to hear about William.’ He shakes his head. ‘Deeply sorry.’
Not sorry enough to get your arse to Yorkshire to support me at the funeral, I think, but instead, I say, ‘Thanks. Thanks so much.’
‘I expect life will be different from now on,’ he says.
‘Yes.’ I blow out a shaky breath. ‘Very different. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’
Gavin makes a steeple of his hands and raises his eyebrows.
‘I’ll be coming back to London now. Selling up. The house is already on the market and we should have no trouble finding a buyer. I could be back by the beginning of the New Year if everything works out well.’ I think that’s extremely optimistic, but Gavin doesn’t need to know that.
‘What happened to the country dream? The idyllic life?’ Is there a scathing note in his voice?
‘I need to be near my family,’ I say, ignoring it. ‘The house is wonderful, but too big for me to manage alone.’
Gavin purses his lips, but says nothing.
‘I was hoping that I could come back. I know that Jocelyn’s doing my old job now . . .’
‘And doing it brilliantly,’ Gavin chips in.
Wonderful. ‘But if there’s anything else? I recall that you had some new arts programmes in the pipeline . . .’
‘Things have changed since you left,’ my old boss says.
‘It’s only been a few short months. I’m still as sharp as ever. I’ve missed the cut and thrust. I want to get back to it as soon as possible.’
‘There have been swinging cutbacks, Amy. You must know that. Don’t you read the newspapers?’
Frankly, I haven’t been near one in months. ‘Yes, yes. Of course.’
‘Even Sports Quiz isn’t safe.’
‘But it’s been running for years! The viewing figures are consistently high.’
‘We’ve got a new channel controller and he’s a ruthless bastard. He’s sweeping his new broom into every little nook and cranny. There’s a block on all recruitment. Everyone’s feeling the pinch. We’ve got to shed three thousand jobs.’ Gavin spreads his hands. ‘Three thousand!’
‘Yes, gosh,’ I say, my heart pounding erratically. He’s not going to offer me a job. There’s nothing here for me. I hadn’t expected that at all. It feels like the bottom is dropping out of my world all over again. I’ve given this company years of loyal service. I’ve sacrificed all kinds of things for my career. When Will was in hospital after his wobble, I didn’t miss a day. I wonder now if that’s something to be proud of. ‘That’s terrible.’
Gavin stands and I realise that he wants to usher me to the door. I haven’t even had my coffee yet. A four-hour journey to get here and he isn’t even being civil enough to wait until I’ve had a drink! I stand up because I don’t know what else to do, how to stall him, how to make him see that he must change his mind.
‘I’d love to employ you again, help you come back to London. But it’s not going to happen, Amy.’ He shakes his head, acting the best regret I’ve ever seen. With a performance like that he should be in front of the cameras, not behind them. ‘Even in the short ti
me you’ve been away, things have moved on.’
‘Yes, yes,’ I manage to say. ‘I can see.’
‘Shame you didn’t wait for a while.’ Gavin gives a humourless laugh. ‘You might have got yourself a decent-sized redundancy package.’
Minutes later and I’m back on the pavement outside Television House. I’m stunned. Foolishly, I thought that they’d take me back with open arms. I thought I was a valued employee. And all the time, I was just another number on a page. At the grand old age of thirty-eight, I’m not only a widow, but I’m now on the scrapheap of life. You don’t know how worthless that makes me feel.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
After chocolate-based refreshments at Poppy’s, Guy piled Tom, Jessica and Hamish back into the car again. Now the children had overcome their initial shyness and were chatting away with him as if they’d known him for years.
He steered the Range Rover out of Scarsby and into the countryside once more. They were going to visit Marty and Gill Bainbridge who had been clients of his since he’d started at the practice. Marty was one of the new slew of television gardeners, a larger-than-life character who had moved to this area five years ago and had been an incomer at the same time as Guy, so there had been a natural bond between them. Marty and Gillian had bought up old Radley’s Farm, a twenty-five-acre spread that was kept like a show farm, mainly because every now and again television cameras turned up and filmed pieces of Marty doing farmery-type things on his land for his prime-time programme on ITV.
The Bainbridges had two children of their own – Oliver who was nine years old and Ellie who was seven. The plan was that Tom and Jessica could look round the farm and help while Guy did some routine checks on Marty’s animals. Then Gill was going to give them one of her legendary lunches and, later in the afternoon, when the Bainbridge children were back from their school, which was open today, all four kids could run wild for a couple of hours. Perfect.
The house at the Bainbridges’ farm was more manor house than farmhouse – a beautifully proportioned, double-fronted Georgian home, more graceful and elegant than the usual heavy stone buildings of the area. Clearly, Radley’s had always been a thriving farm and the Bainbridges had carried on that tradition. Even the yard was clinically clean which made a welcome change from some of the remote hill farms he ventured onto where it was difficult to tell where the pigsty finished and the farmhouse started.