please,’ was all Beth could manage, her response muffled by the onesie over her face. The large hooded figure was heavy and she was pinned to the case. He rolled onto his haunches, sprang up and dusted himself down. Beth pulled the onesie off her face and tried to hide the mass of pink furry material. She looked up and despite the hoody she recognized her assailant – it was Jack.
‘I think that makes us quits,’ she suggested as she sat up and started to get her breath back.
The dog must have kept going at first but now, realizing it was running alone, it was racing back towards them. Jack made a lunge for the beast’s collar and missed, and Beth found herself lying on the pavement again, this time with a huge dog slobbering all over her.
‘Argh! It’s trying to bite me!’ she yelled.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Doris wouldn’t hurt a soul.’ He got hold of the collar and winched the large dog off. He held out his other hand to help Beth to her feet.
‘I’ll manage, thanks,’ huffed Beth. ‘That thing should be on a lead.’
‘You should look where you’re going. Come on, Doris.’ Jack turned and jogged away.
Carly had finished work for the day and stopped off at a small café on her way home. She sipped her black chai tea and jotted down her latest contract into her diary. As a British Sign Language interpreter she was in demand and received many different requests. Hospital work was her bread and butter but she took on other projects when they interested her. She popped the lid back on her half-finished drink, slipped the papers into her oversized handbag and left the café. She loved her job but sometimes it did feel like she was the grown up with the proper job and Fergus was … well he definitely wasn’t a grown-up with a proper job.
Carly loved Fergus, there was no question about it, but some of the things she loved about him were also the things that drove her slightly crackers. As she opened the front door she could hear him chattering excitedly in his playroom. That was what she called their spare room; he grandly referred to their converted second bedroom as his office but, seeing as all he did was play computer games all day, she thought her label was far more appropriate. She pushed on the door so it opened a fraction. It went quiet inside and he popped his head round the door in greeting.
‘Hiya, C. Good day?’ he asked, his game controller clutched between his thighs and his uncombed dark hair falling across his face.
‘You’ve not got dressed.’ Carly puffed out her cheeks.
Fergus looked down at his Minecraft lounge trousers and grinned. ‘I have, I was wearing Batman ones this morning.’ The door shut behind him. Every day was a pyjama day to Fergus – how he managed to pay his share of the bills into the joint account each month Carly had no idea. He had tried to explain how it worked a couple of times but, whilst she did use the Internet occasionally, she didn’t really get it and it still baffled her how he got paid for playing children’s games.
She pouted at the shut door and listened to him gabbling on to himself like a total loon. His own grandmother’s phrase popped into her head, recited in her broad Irish accent, ‘Thick as manure but only half as useful.’
Carly started chopping vegetables for a stir-fry and found the action quite therapeutic, although the more she chopped and sliced the more disgruntled she became. It was Wednesday night and she always saw Beth on a Wednesday night; it was takeaway and natter night, a chance to have a night off from signing and give her aching wrists a rest. That had all changed now that Beth had gone.
The flat’s door entry buzzer interrupted her thoughts. She put down the knife and went to see who it was. There was a hunched figure on the screen.
Carly pressed the button to speak. ‘Yeah?’
‘Carly, it’s Nick. Can I come up?’
Carly felt her heart start to race. ‘No, you bloody well can’t. Sod off.’ She leaned across the hallway and opened the playroom door. Fergus looked irritated at first until she pointed at the screen to show Nick’s face peering at them in black and white.
‘Come on, Carly. Elizabeth has blown this all out of proportion. I want to fix things but I can’t if she won’t take my calls.’
Carly felt the need to shout, ‘Out of proportion! You shit, you hit her!’
‘Carly, this is between me and Elizabeth. Tell me where she is. I just want to know she’s all right.’
‘I don’t know where she is,’ she lied, ‘but she is fine now she’s away from you.’
‘What’s he saying?’ asked Fergus and Carly relayed the conversation. ‘Tell him to feck off,’ said Fergus.
‘I’ve tried that. You go down and see him.’
‘Dressed like this?’
Carly shrugged; perhaps he would now see the benefits of getting dressed on a daily basis. She turned her attention back to Nick.
‘Nick, you can stand there till Christmas for all I care. You’re not coming in and I’ll never tell you where she is … even if I knew.’ She put down the entryphone. Nick stood and stared at the screen for a bit. She watched as he tried the door a couple of times and pressed the button again. Carly ignored it. Nick leaned on the button.
Carly swore and then answered. ‘I’ll call the police.’
‘I need to speak to her.’ Nick’s voice had a harsh tone to it now.
‘Never going to happen.’
‘I will find her. I guarantee it,’ warned Nick as he stared into the monitor. Carly watched him, her heart racing. He gave the door one last try and then walked away.
Fergus hugged Carly. ‘You okay?’
‘No, not really. Beth said he’d come looking for her. I think I’m starting to understand why she’s run so far away.’
Beth woke early in the small twin room of the B&B and pulled the pink candlewick bedspread up to her chin. It was many years since she’d slept under sheets and although she’d heard stories of bedspreads this was her first. She plucked at it as she listened to Leo snoring lightly. She hadn’t slept much, her mind full of buyer’s remorse. What had seemed a wonderfully romantic and spontaneous act at the auction now seemed like the epitome of stupid. Despite the state of the cottage, she had had a good feeling when she stood in the back garden with Leo. But her plan of buying something, doing superficial restoration, some painting and decorating and then a flourish of interior design before moving on to the next property was not likely to work with Willow Cottage. It needed major renovations, shoring up most likely or possibly knocking down, and she didn’t know where to start.
What was she doing? She was a Business Operations Manager. She knew about planning and executing efficiency strategies and adhering to compliance as well as how to cope in a male dominated world. She knew nothing about renovation and she feared the money she had would soon be gobbled up by this project. Most of her money was tied up in the London flat and discussing its sale with Nick was something she couldn’t
