A Good Catch Part 33

31.

A week later 'Oh, Greer, it's lovely.'

Loveday was sitting in the pa.s.senger seat of the new 4x4 that Jesse had given Greer as her anniversary present. 'I could've done with one of these when the kids were small.'

Greer was reversing down the steep hill where Loveday and Mickey lived. 'Have I got enough room your side?'

Loveday checked the wing mirror. 'You're fine.'

Greer got to the bottom of the hill without a sc.r.a.pe and put the car into drive. 'Here we go.'

The big car was c.u.mbersome and Greer didn't really like it, but Jesse had meant well when he bought it for her.

The morning after the row, nothing had been said. Jesse was up early and Greer heard him call from the bathroom, 'Where are the paracetamol?'

Smiling to herself she called back, 'On the third shelf of the cabinet.' She paused, then added, 'Would you bring me some, please?'

Greer wasn't much of a drinker, she didn't like losing control, and she and Jesse's argument had left her feeling very churned up and emotionally exhausted, but all of that seemed to be forgotten when Jesse presented her with the 4x4. She'd thanked him and spoken to the travel company, and now she and Jesse would be going to Venice in April. They'd never had such a bad row before, and Greer thought the break would do them both good; they'd had a lot on their plates and tensions were bound to be high.

She had nodded and smiled appreciatively as he had shown off the walnut dashboard and in-car entertainment system. 'Even has a reversing camera, so you can't have any excuses for kerbing the wheels.' She laughed dutifully and spared a thought for Loveday; Mickey would probably take Loveday and the kids to Wetherspoon's for their anniversary. Mind you, Loveday would probably love it, Greer smiled to herself.

Jesse was still talking. 'I thought it would be useful when you're carting all that stuff about to your houses.'

'Carting my stuff?'

'All those fancy cushions and books of wallpaper that your rich people like to look at. And your sc.r.a.pbooks.'

'Mood alb.u.ms,' she corrected.

'Whatever. Anyhow, I thought a nice big car would be useful ... and when you're not using it I can borrow it for fishing or-'

'So you bought it for yourself?' The old resentment started to flourish.

'You didn't buy a trip to Venice solely for me, did you?'

He had her there, and so she kissed him and neutralised the negative turn the conversation had taken and thanked him for such a perfect present.

Today, she and Loveday were making use of the car for a trip to the sales in Bristol.

'I feel so high up,' Loveday said, settling into her leather seat. 'We'll be in Bristol in no time.'

'I'm glad of your company.'

'I like a bargain. The girls have given me a list of stuff they want me to get. As if they didn't have enough already at Christmas!'

'I'm hoping to pick up a lovely little Turkish Kelim for a client and also get some curtain fabric for the Liskeard people.'

'Ain't that job finished yet?'

'I got most of it done in time for Christmas, but now they've decided they want the tall window on the stairs to have curtains. They don't need them. The light it throws onto the panelled walls is a clever piece of design by the architect back in the 1680s, but they think the sun is too bright and, if they want to have curtains, they shall have curtains. At least I talked them out of Venetian blinds.'

'You'm clever, Greer.'

'Well, I can't do what you do.'

'It's only tallying the books,' said Loveday self-deprecatingly.

'Oh, yes, that's easy enough, what I mean is, I couldn't sit in that soulless building that Jesse loves so much, with all those dull people, doing the same thing day in day out.'

Loveday frowned. 'They'm not dull people. They're my friends. And if it wasn't for them you wouldn't have a car like this.'

'I didn't mean it like that,' Greer said. 'I think it's wonderful that some people enjoy mundanity. Whereas I have to be creative.' She glanced at her friend and smiled. 'How are your upholstery cla.s.ses going?'

Loveday had turned her face to look out of the window so that Greer couldn't see her annoyance. 'OK.'

Greer sensed that she had gone too far. 'Good.'

She drove on for a few minutes, neither speaking. Then, to ease the tension she said, 'Shall I put the radio on?'

'What a day.' Greer was in her kitchen and shrugging out of her coat. 'Loveday insisted we went into Ikea. G.o.d, what a dreadful place. Nothing in there will stand the test of time. Put the kettle on, would you?'

Jesse did as he was asked. 'How did the car go?'

'Lovely. The boot is full. I bought much too much but some of the fabric was at such a good price, and cla.s.sic patterns, that I thought it was an investment, really.'

'Where would you like your tea?'

'Shall we sit in the library?'

'You can, I've got to go back to the office. Got some stuff to finish off for the accountants.'

'Will you be home for dinner?'

'Probably not.'

The building was warm and silent. He made himself a mug of coffee in the tiny office kitchen and went to his office. Lauren, as always, had prepared his desk for the next day. His bin was empty and his laptop was charging.

He logged on and opened the files he wanted. He read the first page and then the next. He found it brutally boring. He tried again. But again he could not concentrate.

He gave up and spun his chair so that he could look at the view through the gla.s.s. Trevay lay peacefully beneath him. His mind wandered as he looked at the familiar streets and buildings. There was his old school, with its memories of Greer, Mickey and Loveday. The church where he'd got married and where Louisa lay next to his grandfather.

The sheds where he and Loveday had made love.

The harbour where his boats were bobbing, tied up against the wall.

The shelter where Grant had died.

No, he mustn't think about Grant. He looked again over the rooftops of Trevay. Now he could see Grant smoking at the school gate.

Grant hiding in the yard outside the sheds watching him and Loveday.

Grant lying in the churchyard.

Grant sitting in this office.

Jesse hated these thoughts. He'd had them on and off since Grant had died. If he was strong enough, he could make them go away. And they would go away, but tonight they were real and sharp. Why didn't b.l.o.o.d.y Grant leave him in peace?

Jesse went to the office kitchen and filled the kettle to make another cup of coffee.

He heard what sounded like the lift, whirring its way up to his floor.

Was that the lift he heard?

He stepped out of the kitchen and listened.

Yes. The lift, definitely.

Who would come into the office at this time?

Had he locked the front door?

He couldn't remember.

He stepped back into the kitchen, turned the light off and stood very still.

The lift stopped.

The doors opened.

He heard the rustle of clothing as someone got out and started walking towards his office.

He could hear his breathing.

He could hear their breathing.

When he judged that they were almost adjacent to the kitchen doorway, he leapt out, shouting a huge roar.

The woman screamed, dropped her bag and ran back to the lift.

'Loveday,' said Jesse, running after her. 'Loveday. 'Tis only me.'

She stopped running and he could see the fear on her face. 'Jesse.' She was breathless. 'What the bleddy 'ell you do that for?'

'I thought you was a burglar.'

'Well, I'm not.' She started to giggle. 'You'm bleddy frightening when you shout like that.'

'I meant to be. Anyhow, serves you right for sneaking up on me.'

'I was not sneaking. I came in to make sure I had all the doc.u.ments you'll need for the accountant tomorrow and found the front door unlocked. I thought it would be you. I saw your office lights on, so I came up to say h.e.l.lo. Got the bleddy fright of my life instead!'

'Sorry. Want a coffee?'

'I need a bleddy brandy.'

'I've got some whisky?'

'No, you're all right. Give us a coffee, I'll get the papers you need and I'll be off home.'

Loveday took her coffee down to her ground-floor office and soon became absorbed in answering emails and checking her diary for the week ahead. The phone on her desk rang, startling her. She looked at her watch and saw that an hour and a half had gone by. It must be Mickey.

'Hi, Mick. Sorry I've been so long. I'm on my way now. Shall I pick up some fish and chips or have you and the kids eaten?'

Jesse's voice replied, 'No, I haven't eaten yet, but I'd love fish and chips with you.'

Loveday laughed. 'Oh, sorry, Jesse. I'm just emailing the stuff up to you now.

'What would I do without you? Did you put the spreadsheets in?'

'Of course.'

'Thank you. The accountants always love a spreadsheet.'

Loveday had the receiver between her shoulder and her chin as she tried to put one arm into the sleeve of her coat. 'Well, I'll be off, if there's nothing else you need.'

'No, that's fine,' said Jesse. 'See you tomorrow.'

'Yeah, see you tomorrow.'

'Oh ... er, Loveday?'

'Yeah?'

'Fancy that gla.s.s of whisky before we shut up shop for the night?'