snuggled down and picked up her magazine, one of a collection she’d bought at Charles de Gaulle. It was hardly a taxing prospect, whiling away the time waiting for Laurie by flicking through the pages of party themed sequinned dresses, shimmering eye shadows and gorgeous clutch bags and listening to the snap and crackle of the fire. She turned another page. So, she’d miss Claude’s Christmas soirée at the Musée d’Orsay. Possibly the best event in Paris and the only thing she’d miss. With a moue of acceptance she shrugged. No matter. She’d have fun with Laurie.
And as if she conjured her up, her mobile phone vibrated into life.
‘Hi Sien … son texted me … picked you up OK.’ Laurie’s Dalek voice snapped in and out of range.
‘I can hardly hear you.’ Siena winced at the plaintive whine in her voice. It sounded so pathetic and needy, not the image she wanted to portray. ‘Are you still in Yorkshire?’
‘Yes. Sorry. Really bad line. At …pital. How’s the room? Do you … Can’t leave N … hospital at least … Don’t worry Jason will—’ The signal died leaving a long buzzing tone.
Her heart bumped a little uncomfortably and she worried at her lip. So who had used the bathroom this morning? And when was she going to get the chance to explain properly to Laurie how long she planned to stay? Laurie probably assumed Siena finally had a free weekend and had taken up the invitation originally extended over two years ago.
She winced. That sounded crap. It was crap. One hundred and four weekends that she’d failed to come and see her sister; she should have managed at least one. She glanced back at her phone, now registering all the missed calls and voicemails. She could go through and delete them but keeping them was like keeping a wasp in a jar. Safely contained and fine as long as it stayed in there.
Nestled in her hand the phone felt like a time bomb ticking.
‘Time to finish up, Ben.’
As if someone had pulled the plug on the power, Ben dropped the hose he was using to wash down the concrete floor and pulled off his beanie hat, stuffing it into his pocket. The hose flailed wildly for a second, hitting Jason’s trousers before Ben managed to get to the tap to switch it off. Jason stared down at the dark wet patch running from crotch to knee. Yup, looked exactly like he’d wet himself. He shook his head and rolled his eyes behind Ben’s back. No point bawling the boy out. He only had himself to blame. By now he should know full well that Ben took everything quite literally.
Jason sighed out loud. The plus point meant you could be incredibly direct, the downside was that you had to be extremely careful what you said.
‘If you wash out the pipes on the bottling line, then you can finish.’ He took a quick look around the small barn area, feeling that familiar sense of pride. The gleaming fermentation tanks, the bottling line and the stores of grain lined up in the old stable area. The high roof of the barn made it a cold, but light and airy environment to work in, one that he had never failed to want to arrive at every morning.
‘Good work today. Now that lot’s bottled, we can start again next week.’
They’d worked like stink today, so hard neither of them had felt the cold of the barn, until he’d got soaked. Now the cold stung and the chill seeped below his layers. They could wrap up for the day. Today’s backbreaking pace had paid off. Back on schedule, all ready to start brewing tomorrow. Ben had managed to fix the miller, so that they could grind down the malt barley and get it together with the water into the mash tun. Brewing was a magical process. It never ceased to amaze him that you could get so many infinite flavours from the simple combination of water and grain
He rolled his stiff neck. A satisfying day, which would be all the better for a long hot shower, an instant meal and bed. All he had to do was finish up in the office, nip over the courtyard to see Will, enjoy a quick post work pint and head home. It was handy having his business partner running the pub next door and of course owning a convenient barn that was perfect for a micro-brewery.
‘Jason, what you having? Busman’s holiday?’ Will slid off the bar stool, lifted the wooden flap and went round to the other side of the bar. Ben was already ensconced comfortably at the bar, halfway down a pint.
‘Corona, please.’
‘Seriously …’ Will rolled his eyes at Ben. ‘Young Ben here is loyal to the cause. Drinking a pint of Chiltern Glory. It’s your money. If you buy a pint of your own, it’s win win.’
Ben raised his glass. ‘Tastes good, boss.’
Jason laughed. ‘Go on then.’ He had just wanted to neck something cold. ‘I’ll have a half.’
‘Ironed out all the problems?’ Will was the perfect business partner, silent when he needed to be and hugely supportive and enthusiastic at all other times. They’d known each other since university when they’d played rugby together but they had more in common than their shared passion for beer. Both of them had lost their fathers in recent years which had strengthened their bond of friendship, although unlike his, Will’s relationship with his father had always been strained, which Will put down to the fact that he suspected they weren’t actually related by blood at all.
‘Yup. One of the tanks sprang a leak but Ben sorted it out.’
‘Pretty handy at welding, aren’t you Ben? You coming tonight?’
‘Yeah.’ His brown eyes lit up with enthusiasm. ‘You get posh totty in wine bars don’t you. They go in for all that malarkey, don’t they?’
Will nodded, veiled amusement in his eyes, like an elder statesmen with a young buck.
Jason rocked his head back. ‘Oh shit, I’d forgotten about that. I’m knackered. I had to go on bloody rescue mission last night for Laurie.’
‘I thought she had a boyfriend for that sort of stuff. Cam’s a lazy bastard’
They both laughed. Cam had been at university with them too and neither of them could quite get over the fact that he’d found his soul mate and settled down.
‘Laurie’s sister decided to pop over for the weekend from Paris. Like you do. No warning or anything. So I had to rush to the frigging airport to collect the spoilt brat.’
‘So where is she now?’
‘I bloody hope on a flight back to where she came from.’
‘That’s alright then. So what time will I see you?’
Jason rubbed the back of his neck. ‘When I get there.’
‘Might be a new customer for the brewery. And I want to check out the competition,’ Will grinned, ‘and Ben wants to check out the hot chicks.’
Leaning back against the front door, Jason kicked off his wet boots on the large square doormat he’d purposely bought to protect Laurie’s carpet and began to peel off his clothes, dropping them onto the floor. He dried out a bit in the pub but invariably he came home dirty and wet, an inescapable aspect of the job. It had become a habit to strip off his outer clothes at the door, less distance to carry them to the washing machine later.
He padded quickly up the stairs, already anticipating the first jet of hot water pouring over his aching shoulders. No doubt about it, showers had to the best invention of the modern world. Along with ice-cold beer drunk
