got up to leave.
‘I’m guessing that’s us then,’ said Beth, as Jack gave her a huge bear hug and then instantly looked rather awkward and pulled away. ‘First time we’ve won since Easter.’ He looked genuinely thrilled and Beth had to admit that she too was feeling quite pleased with herself. The compere came over to hand out the prizes.
‘Um, thanks,’ said Beth, as she really didn’t know what else to say when someone hands you a dozen pork sausages.
Fergus had lost his hearing due to contracting a severe case of mumps as an adult. He had spent the first year after it happened confined to his old flat. A lot of it was shock at the sudden loss of a primary sense but with that comes fear and erosion of self-confidence. Losing his ability to communicate had made him feel cut off and frustrated. Even simple tasks were suddenly much harder and took more effort, for example trying to find out information was no longer just a phone call away. Fergus was shocked too by the number of people who treated him like he was mentally slow just because he couldn’t hear.
He had made a positive move when he had joined a British Sign Language course and the added bonus had been falling for one of the tutors, Carly. She had introduced him to the deaf community and all the support that brings from people that actually know what it’s like to be in the same situation. Although his experiences were different from those who’d encountered discrimination all their lives he had found learning sign language immediately expanded his social group and set him on the road to recovery. Sadly, some people never do manage to adjust to such a trauma but, with support and all the latest gadgets, Fergus had slowly progressed and was now living again.
This meant engaging in all aspects of normal life including arguing with your partner. Carly found it was exceedingly difficult to have a row with a deaf person. No matter how competent you were at sign language you couldn’t get the words out quickly enough and if they chose to look away the argument was over. Fergus was looking perplexed and kept signing ‘sorry’, which was probably because he felt she was overreacting a little to the fact that he’d used the last tea bag but, after a sleepless night, Carly was desperate for a cuppa. All of her frustration at the non-proposal was flooding out into tea-gate. She added a couple of digs about him playing games all day and not getting dressed, then grabbed her bag and stormed out. She slammed the door behind her. He wouldn’t hear it but it was likely the vibration would convey her level of annoyance.
She stood outside the flat door and screamed. It was a primal scream that went on long enough to make a front door open to check what the matter was, which for London, where everyone kept themselves to themselves unless something disastrous had happened, was quite exceptional.
‘Sorry, I needed to let that out,’ said Carly, as the door quickly shut again. It had worked, she felt a fraction less frustrated, although her desire for a cup of tea was still raging. Fergus was so laid-back about everything and most of the time that was a good thing but sometimes it drove her potty. She felt it wasn’t unreasonable for her to be thinking about getting married after three years together but she was beginning to wonder if Fergus would ever get around to proposing. She sent Beth a text but when she didn’t respond immediately she called her.
‘I’m guessing it didn’t go well as I didn’t get an excited phone call from you last night,’ said Beth.
‘Didn’t go well! That’s a bloody understatement. He took me up 257 steps in heels to ask me if I wanted to spend a weekend in a bloody treehouse.’ Carly was indignant.
‘Ooh, a treehouse sounds nice, when’s he taking you?’
‘Did you not hear what I said? 257 steps up to the sodding Whispering sodding Gallery at sodding St Paul’s.’
‘What a lovely thing to do. I think you’re being a bit mean. He’s booked a nice mini-break and he took you to a wonderful place to tell you about it.’
Carly pouted as she stood on the pavement outside the flat. ‘It would have been a perfect place to propose.’
‘Maybe, but there are other perfect places for a proposal.’
‘I’d like it to feel like the world has stopped for one moment, just for me. That’s all,’ said Carly with more than a hint of despondency evident in her voice as she moved to one side to avoid being bumped by frowning pedestrians.
‘I dare say you would and I’m sure that will happen but, in the meantime, you should enjoy the lovely thoughtful man you have and look forward to your weekend in a treehouse.’
‘Thoughtful? 257 steps. In heels!’ was all Carly had to say. She shoved the phone into her bag and crossed the road. She didn’t see Fergus who was watching her closely from the window.
Leo was finishing his sausages and beans when the theatrical musical doorbell of the B&B hummed the tune to ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’. Jean opened the door and preened herself as she greeted Jack. What was it with the women in this village and Jack? He seemed to send them all aquiver.
‘Are you ready?’ he called brusquely, after exchanging pleasantries with Jean.
‘Yep,’ said Beth, grabbing the rusty keys and gently steering Leo away from the table.
‘You’re wearing that?’ asked Jack, blunt as ever, as he gave Beth’s outfit the once-over.
She looked at her fitted white T-shirt, designer skinny jeans and smart low-heeled leather boots. ‘Yes, what’s wrong with it?’ It wasn’t like she was wearing a skirt and heels as she had the first time she’d investigated the property.
‘Nothing wrong at all but you’re about to get absolutely filthy working on the cottage and that outfit will be trashed.’
‘These are the least precious clothes I’ve got and if they get trashed then so be it. But I’ll be careful.’
‘What do you usually wear for this sort of work?’ asked Jack, his expression curious.
It was too early to make stuff up and Leo was listening. ‘This,’ she said and walked out of the door with her head held high. Jack shook his head behind her.
Jean displayed a fixed smile as she witnessed the exchange. ‘Well, have a nice time anyway,’ she said, as she waved them off.
‘Here,’ said Jack, handing Beth and Leo small white face masks. ‘It’ll help to stop the dust.’
‘Thanks but I’m going to play in the garden,’ said Leo brandishing a tennis ball.
‘He’s not had a garden before,’ explained Beth and Jack patted Leo on the back sympathetically.
‘You can do me a favour, keep an eye on Doris here,’ he said as the huge dog skidded up the path to greet them. Doris had a dark face but the rest of her short coat was a golden blonde and she was very nearly the same height as Leo. Beth protectively stepped in front of Leo and Doris seized the opportunity to sniff Beth’s crotch. Jack expertly pulled her away as Beth rolled her eyes; sniffing crotches and licking their own private parts was probably the two main reasons why she wasn’t a dog lover. The third thing that Beth disliked about dogs was when they lifted up both their back legs and dragged their bums along the carpet although she had to admit
