past the shop window, her lips pinched together.
‘About the text I sent you…’ he shouted after her. But if she heard, she didn’t turn back.
Gemma dropped her shopping bags onto the floor and gave a slow handclap. ‘That went well. Way to go, Uncle Ben.’
Benedict couldn’t stop all the frustration of the last few weeks from spilling out in his voice. ‘What the hell did you come in the shop for?’ he demanded. ‘I was trying to talk to my wife.’
Gemma took a small step back and her ankle buckled in her cowboy boot. ‘Hey. I didn’t know it was Estelle, until I overheard your conversation. Then I figured it out.’
‘You listened in,’ he accused.
‘Well, sorta.’ She shrugged. ‘Hey, are you worried about this Lawrence guy? Your nostrils flared real big when she mentioned his name.’
‘They did not.’
‘Yeah, they did.’
Benedict pictured the handsome gallery owner in his striped T-shirt and he suddenly felt exhausted. He wanted to go home and slump on the sofa, whether his wife was there or not. ‘If you’re going to stay with me then we need some rules,’ he said grumpily.
‘You don’t have to worry about me.’ Gemma pointed at her own chest. ‘I think you need to focus on getting your wife back. Especially if this Lawrence guy is hanging around. Why didn’t you introduce me to her? I knew that you’re ashamed of me.’
Benedict opened his mouth to respond but then closed it again. He felt too emotionally drained to speak. It also wasn’t fair to take his infuriation out on his niece. He waited until he felt a little calmer. ‘I’m not ashamed of you, okay,’ he sighed. ‘I want to speak to Charlie first before I introduce you to Estelle. That’s all. Sorry for getting cross with you.’
‘That’s okay. I get it.’
His shoulders slumped. ‘I need to do something about Estelle.’
‘Just do it then.’
‘I’m not good at stuff like that. I can’t think of anything to do for her.’
Gemma folded her arms. ‘Hmmm.’
‘Hmmm, what?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘We need a plan.’
‘We?’ Benedict said. As he plodded over to the counter, to lean against it, he felt like his feet were coated in tar. ‘Need a plan?’
‘Yes. A plan. An operation…to win Estelle back. Hey, Operation Win Estelle Back, that spells WEB. Well, OWEB really, but that doesn’t sound as cool.’
‘WEB?’ Benedict repeated, feeling both scared and intrigued at the same time.
‘Yes. WEB. You need a plan to get your wife back, Uncle Ben. And you need my help to do it.’
protection, emotional balance, renewal
Benedict could kill for a chocolate éclair, or a slice of lemon drizzle cake. He wanted to eat and take his mind off Estelle. The sugar might stop his directionless thoughts from whirring around in his mind.
When Gemma tried to show him her purchases from Deserted Dogs, he scrambled in his head for an excuse to go into the kitchen and search through the cupboards for a stray bar of chocolate. However, his niece would probably be like a sniffer hound and know what he was up to.
He decided to slump on the sofa and let her chatter wash over him.
‘I got some cool stuff. Here’s this cute red dress and a plaid skirt. Oh, and a leather bag with lots of pockets. There was a box full of expensive underwear and pantyhose. It was all new, with the tags on and everything. I got us some good food too. Fruit. I put it in the fridge.’
‘Lovely,’ Benedict said. He pondered about what he could have said to Estelle, in the shop. Perhaps he should have introduced Gemma…
Gemma shook out a pair of jeans and tried to hoist them on over her cowboy boots, managing to only pull them up to her ankles before they got stuck. She slid her legs back out and the boots remained jammed in the trouser legs. ‘I’ll show you these ones later.’
‘That’s fine.’
She tugged out her boots and dropped them to the floor with a couple of thuds. ‘Are you even listening to me, Uncle Ben?’
‘I am,’ Benedict lied. ‘You’ve bought some nice things. Well done.’
Gemma gave a small low growl, like Lord Puss when he saw another cat.
‘Okay, okay.’ He held up his hands. ‘I was thinking of other stuff.’
‘About Estelle, right? And my dad, I bet.’ Gemma folded up her clothes into neat squares and set them on the armchair.
She sounded dismayed, but there was nothing he could do about it. ‘Both. Now, will you write down Charlie’s address for me?’
‘You don’t need it. I texted him before I lost my phone.’
‘I’m sure he’ll want to hear from you again. Can you remember any other phone numbers, so we can get a message to him?’
Gemma’s pointed eyebrows twitched upwards. ‘Nope.’
‘Then I’ll have to write.’ Benedict picked up a pen and scrap of paper from the table and handed them to her. ‘Scribble down his address.’
Gemma flicked her hair, but she wrote on the paper and tossed it back to him.
‘Sunnyside Farm,’ he read. ‘North Maine’.
The words made him feel a little calmer. He finally had a name, a place and a way to get in touch with Charlie, even if it was by letter. He smiled at Gemma, but her face was screwed into a scowl.
He addressed the envelope then added his own details, his phone number and email address to the top. Stuck for what to write, he brushed away a speck of imaginary dust from the paper with the side of his hand. Gemma peered over his shoulder, so Benedict couldn’t write about his real feelings and worries and regrets, and he kept the letter short.
Dear Charlie
This is just a small note to let you know that Gemma arrived here safe and sound. I understand that she texted you to let you know, but I thought that you might like to hear it from me, too. Unfortunately, she’s lost her phone so we don’t have your number to call you.
We’ve agreed that she’ll stay for a few days, maybe longer, depending on what you’re happy with. I’ll help her out all I can; however, it would be useful if you could contact me as soon as you can, so we can discuss her next moves. I’ll keep this letter short and sweet, and I look forward to hearing from
