Home for the Holidays Page 13

  Hands cupped around her mug, Alexia hid her impatience as she waited for him to find his thread. From a fresh perch on the lowest tier of the pan rack, Barney called loudly, ‘Hehhhhhh!’ then turned his head ninety degrees sideways to treat Alexia to his most owlish look.

  ‘Aha.’ Gabe pulled out a statement before he recalled that he had a sentence to finish. ‘Ben’s gone to see his parents and Imogen so he asked me to look after Barney for a couple of days.’

  ‘Oh.’ Alexia sipped her tea, though it really wasn’t cool enough. It gave her an uncomfortable feeling to think of Imogen because a picky person might say Alexia had been wrong to spend naked time with a man who wasn’t absolutely divorced. Without disclosing the fact that she had, she’d no real reason to show curiosity about Ben’s life or, particularly, his wife. Ex-wife. Soon-to-be-ex wife. ‘That’s nice.’

  Barney hopped out from the pan rack and scuttled off to pounce again on the fallen Wellington boot, flapping his good wing energetically, then turning to check that Alexia was admiring his prowess.

  Gabe lifted his eyebrows. ‘Hmm. Nice? I wonder.’ With a weighty sigh he sat back, pulled off his glasses and picked up his mug of tea. ‘Crunching the numbers, I think I can scare up enough dosh for the rewiring and replastering and to outfit the kitchen if we take your low-budget approach. Any deals you can strike that don’t require large deposits so the cost will be spread over however long the whole job takes will be appreciated.’

  Stomach giving a nasty roll, Alexia gazed at him. ‘Are you sailing close to the wind? Would it be better to sell The Angel now and put whatever you can salvage safely back in the bank?’

  Gabe smiled but rubbed his forehead anxiously at the same time. ‘As two great chunks of money have just disappeared from a bank I’m not certain about the word “safely”. Moreover, if I sell The Angel now I’ll cement in a loss. Some property developer would come along and make a killing. That’s the kind of thing you’ll do in your new role, isn’t it? You’ll be like Lucy Alexander from Homes Under the Hammer.’

  ‘She might be a shade more successful.’ Deciding now wasn’t the time to re-examine the depressing truth about the other unusually silent person in her life, Elton, and the missed opportunity, Alexia circled back. ‘By selling now you’d cut your losses.’

  Gabe popped his glasses back on and returned to his numbers. ‘What self-respecting bank manager would cut his losses when he could see a way not to make any? I plan to end up with a functioning building that’s risen in value and can be occupied by a coffee shop that makes money. It’s just a matter of managing cash flow and budget.’ He looked up to twinkle at Alexia. ‘So all you have to worry about is how to get the work done as economically as possible.’

  She managed a laugh but in her mind her worries multiplied like vermin. Gabe hadn’t asked for any of this mess. Jodie and Alexia had led conmen Shane and Tim to Gabe and made it possible for them to fleece him good and proper. A hideous feeling of culpability prompted her to assume an air of vigour that she hoped might be reassuring. ‘So let’s see if we can firm up the budget, then we’ll go down to the Angel and decide on a strategy. I’ve brought my camera and a pad.’ She patted her bag. ‘Then I can make the detailed costing I promised, and if you’re still happy you can see if you can make it work on your budget. It’s only ten weeks until Christmas so let’s not waste time.’

  It was dark by the time they were happy they understood the figures, had fed Barney and shut up the chickens for the night. Alexia zipped her coat and stamped her feet while Gabe made sure Snobby had his pony rug on – not that such a hairy little barrel should be feeling the cold – then they set out for Port Road, hurrying to keep warm.

  At the great silent presence of The Angel it seemed as if time had stood still since the events of the wrecking party weekend. Alexia wrestled the padlock off the ugly temporary front door and they fell inside, where it was no warmer than outside. Flipping the light switches, Alexia tried to sound positive. ‘At least Shane and Tim left us the light bulbs.’ A veteran of working in empty unheated houses, she pulled her fingerless gloves on in the hopes of keeping her hands warm enough to wield clipboard and pen. ‘I think we should concentrate on the ground floor until we’ve hit the target of opening the café.’

  Gabe hunched into his coat and gazed sadly around the stripped out Bar Parlour. ‘And you truly think it can be done by Christmas?’ He smothered a sneeze and had to blow his nose.

  Alexia clicked her pen as she glanced around. ‘There’s a lot to do but I promise you that, with a bit of management, I can produce an interior all ready for tinsel and baubles. But, to get back to the here and now, I do recommend a whole-building approach to plumbing, wiring, plastering and making good where fireplaces have been ripped out. You wouldn’t want the water or electricity turned off while the café’s trying to trade, or plasterers traipsing through the foyer while your customers are trying to relax with a chocolate brownie.’

  Gabe sighed. ‘But it will take longer.’

  ‘It’ll save you money in the long run.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ replied Gabe in the testy kind of voice that suggested he knew it but didn’t have to like it. ‘But can we open the Saturday before Christmas?’

  ‘That’s still the aim,’ said Alexia, cheerfully. ‘You’ll love Christmas as much as I do when the twinkling lights are up and the café bursting with customers.’

  They paused at the sound of the outer door opening and closing. A figure strode into the space where the Bar Parlour door ought to be, if Shane and Tim hadn’t stolen it, hair blown by the wind and grey eyes watchful. ‘I saw the lights and I thought I’d better come in and check everything’s OK.’

  ‘Ben! How were your parents?’ Gabe asked.

  After greeting Ben, Alexia thought she might as well carry on while they had their catch up. She wrote Bar Parlour at the top of a clean page, underneath listing damp membrane, concrete, screed to floor. She glanced up at the ceiling, thankful there were no bulges or other indications of impending problems and that Shane hadn’t made an attempt to get the plaster roses down, which would almost certainly have ended in a disastrous level of damage.

  Then she heard Ben say, ‘Why don’t I hang around? There might be jobs I can put my name down for to save money.’

  Alexia’s pen paused. Putting That Night behind them would be a sight easier if Ben went back to secluding himself in the woods. Still, it would be wrong to block anything that saved Gabe a few quid so she looked up with a polite smile. ‘There are always ways of saving the tradesmen work, which will keep the bills as low as possible.’

  Gabe boomed, ‘Hurrah for smaller bills!’ so loudly it made him cough.

  Ben looked at Alexia and smiled faintly, as if both reading her thoughts and sharing her feelings.

  She chose to focus on what she could influence. ‘Gabe, are you happy for me to have a fairly free hand with choosing tiles and things? I’d normally offer clients ranges of materials at every stage but it’ll be way quicker and easier if I don’t have to. My aim is to do things as cheaply as possible but where “cheap” means “inexpensive” rather than “shoddy”. I’ll be looking for bargains and I know where to look.’

  Gabe agreed with alacrity. ‘“Bargain” is my new favourite word and I trust your taste implicitly.’

  They progressed from room to room, Alexia listing work to be carried out and equipment to be purchased, making sketches and taking pictures. Ben, plainly under occupied, asked a lot of questions. Alexia was sure he liked to thoroughly understand any project in which he was involved but reached exasperation point when he wondered aloud whether she should measure the rooms. She snapped, ‘Or, as I did a detailed survey months ago, I could just consult that?’

  He had the grace to look abashed. ‘Sorry. Whether running my own business or working for the Carlysle estate, I’m more used to leading a team than being part of someone else’s.’

  He managed to prowl silently after that except for pu
tting his name down for a multitude of jobs such as wallpaper stripping upstairs and knocking unsound plaster from walls. He’d also complete the clearing of the grounds.

  When Alexia reported that it wouldn’t be long before Dion began on the roof, having ordered the scaffolding and located sufficient recycled blue black Welsh slate, it was Gabe’s turn to stick his oar in. He wrinkled his nose. ‘Is recycled OK? It won’t last as long as new slate, will it?’

  Alexia smothered a sigh. ‘It’s not just cost. The rest of the roof’s not new so recycled will blend better.’ Suddenly tired of the way they stamped their feet and clapped their hands to keep warm, preventing her from getting fully absorbed in her task, she said, ‘Right,’ brightly, as she snapped her pad shut. ‘I’ve enough information for the costing and schedule of works. Give me time to get estimates.’

  Looking relieved, Gabe consulted his watch. ‘Good timing. I told Tubb we’d probably be along for supper because Janice’s stew and dumplings is on the menu this evening. You’ll join us, Ben, won’t you?’

  Ben looked uncertain. ‘Oh, I—’

  Gabe clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Come on, you’ve got to eat. Let me buy you supper to thank you for your help.’

  Ben let Gabe and Alexia walk in front of him to The Three Fishes, Gabe’s silver ponytail flipping in the wind. Ben wasn’t sure he’d ever enquired about Gabe’s actual age but he knew him to be older than Ben’s mother by some years. Until he’d conceived the idea of plunging into the restoration of The Angel, Gabe had seemed perfectly happy pottering about on his property with his chickens and his old pony. He ought to be enjoying the same peace of mind still, not scraping the bottom of his financial barrel to retrieve a situation in which he’d been ripped off. Ben would quite like to get his hands on the unscrupulous bastards who’d put him through all this worry.

  As he couldn’t, he turned his gaze to Alexia. She was being a bit buffeted about as well, and not just by the wind swirling up Main Road. Back at The Angel she’d exhibited signs of tetchiness. He felt guilty that his own restless energy had exacerbated that. Alexia had never wavered in her support of Gabe. Even though they’d obviously been friends for ages and there was liking and trust on both sides, she didn’t have to give Gabe untold hours of her time in a salvage operation.

  He emerged from his thoughts to find they’d reached the pub and Alexia was holding the door open for him while he gazed at her like a moron. ‘Sorry,’ he said, jumping forward to take the door. ‘I was miles away.’ She gave him a look that was not quite an eye roll.

  By the time they caught up with Gabe he’d secured a table in the dining area and was checking with Janice that she’d reserved him at least four dumplings. Although Alexia was more restrained on the dumpling count, it wasn’t long before they were all addressing aromatically steaming plates of stew. Alexia followed Gabe in choosing a pint of Adnams to wash it down. Ben had to hide a smile, not for any sexist belief that women should drink decorous halves, but because the glass looked the size of a bucket in her delicate hands.

  Watching her take the first draft, Ben decided to try and improve things between them, partly because they were going to be falling over each other at The Angel but mostly because of her support for his favourite uncle. ‘Sorry I fired off too many questions when you were trying to concentrate,’ he said. ‘Waiting patiently with my mouth shut while someone else takes the lead doesn’t come naturally.’

  Alexia managed a smile that vanquished some of the worry from her eyes. ‘The lead’s yours if you want it. I’ll do the sweeping up.’

  ‘No, no,’ Ben backtracked hastily. ‘I’ll just offer muscle power and my truck.’

  Janice, passing by, fanned herself. ‘Muscles and a truck? The wizard just gave me a hot flush.’ She grinned knowingly at Alexia. ‘And I haven’t even begun think of his magic wand.’

  Alexia flushed scarlet and Gabe coughed. ‘Perhaps now would be a good time to change the subject. What did your parents say about the letter?’

  ‘Much more than I ever expected.’ Ben saw no reason to avoid speaking of family matters in front of Alexia, as she knew his brother was in prison, and recounted the whole story of Lloyd’s problems in his teens. ‘It completely took me by surprise. I’m still having trouble absorbing the fact that Lloyd was capable of that kind of dishonesty.’

  Gabe shook his head gravely. ‘His teenage delinquency is as much a surprise to me as it is to you. It explains a lot about why your parents gave him so much attention, though. And it’s very like Penny to have desperately hidden the pilfering and gambling from everyone.’

  ‘True. And it doesn’t shed any light on what Lloyd and Imogen have been up to. I confess I couldn’t think of much else on the drive home.’ Ben didn’t miss the quick look Alexia gave him before returning studiously to her meal. He was pretty certain it wasn’t the crackling of the logs in the fireplace that brought a sudden flush to her cheeks.

  Without really understanding his compulsion to garner her views, he waited until their plates were empty and Gabe had gone to the bar to buy another round of drinks, then told her of Imogen’s extraordinary behaviour in the pub. Her big dark eyes grew larger and rounder. ‘She just left you sitting there?’ she breathed. ‘Just left? Without even texting you from the car park?’

  ‘Just left without even texting me from the car park.’

  Ben had time to note each expression that flitted across her face: astonishment, dismay, anger, compassion. Finally, she leant in and dropped her voice soft and low. ‘Are you all right?’

  It was a simple enquiry but Ben’s heart seemed to collide with his chest wall. Imogen had demonstrated that whatever was worrying her was more important than Ben’s desire for the truth; likewise, his parents’ confession regarding the truth about Lloyd’s past had been focused on Lloyd, even while they’d been acknowledging its impact on Ben.

  So often Ben’s emotional resilience was taken for granted. Alexia’s unaffected concern made him feel as if something around his heart quivered and began to peel away. ‘I don’t know,’ he heard himself reply. ‘Perhaps because of her injuries, there were no shouting matches or tearful recriminations around our agreement to divorce, so it was a shock that she’d bail like that. What the hell can she be hiding? I feel as if I want to pound on the door to her parents’ house and demand to know.’ He found himself wiping his palms up and down his jeans and realised that he was sweating. Then what felt like a rock jumped into his throat. ‘Crap. I’m getting emotional!’ he growled in horror.

  Luckily, Gabe had been drawn into conversation with a group of people he obviously knew at the bar, the fresh drinks standing untouched at his elbow.

  Beneath the table, Ben felt Alexia’s hand come to rest tentatively on his knee. Her voice was full of understanding. ‘It’s all right to be emotional. What Imogen did was bizarre and hurtful. Undeserved.’ She hesitated. ‘To be betrayed is a horrible experience. It changes everything you thought you knew.’ Then she got up and snaffled their drinks from beside Gabe, giving the older man a grin and obviously encouraging them to finish their conversation. She carried the two glasses back to the table and pushed Ben’s Pepsi into his hand so he could raise it to his lips and ease the ache in his throat.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said gruffly. And though Alexia hadn’t asked, he found himself adding, ‘The astonishing thing is that until I brought up the subject of Lloyd’s letter Imogen seemed unexpectedly happy to see me. I think she might have thought … well, the divorce becomes absolute at the end of the week and it’s possible she thought I wanted to stop it. But if I’d ever entertained a single doubt about our marriage ending, I don’t now.’

  Alexia regarded him gravely over another pint glass. ‘Is that good or bad?’

  He wished he’d had the foresight to order a big fat pint of his own. He could have left his truck here and walked back for it in the morning. ‘Good,’ he decided. ‘I think the marriage must be more over than we’d realised. There’s something even mo
re fundamentally wrong than I thought for her to treat me that way.’ He summoned a smile. ‘Thanks for listening. It’s not as if you don’t have problems of your own.’

  Her return smile was fleeting. ‘Let’s not get into a “my crap’s worse than your crap” contest, because I think you’d win. Once I’ve helped Gabe limit the damage at The Angel, I’m OK.’

  He wondered if this was her usual modus operandi, to reassure others. It seemed as if she did it automatically. ‘You’re making light of it but what happened with Jodie must have really stung. And Elton let you down. I know you were so looking forward to that new opportunity and leaving the village.’

  Alexia gave a rueful eye roll and he realised Gabe had returned and was standing transfixed, obviously having overheard. He sank heavily into his chair and turned his gaze on Alexia. ‘Isn’t your new job going to come off?’

  Alexia pulled a face. ‘Doesn’t look like it.’

  ‘My dear, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.’ Then understanding washed over his face, digging lines of sorrow in the flesh beneath his eyes. ‘Because of what happened at The Angel? Surely not?’

  For a few seconds Ben thought that Alexia was going to deny it. She’d already dredged up a reassuring smile. Then, perhaps unable to grab a plausible alternative explanation out of thin air, she let it slide away again. ‘Elton wasn’t impressed,’ she admitted. She told him about Elton getting all flinty and not wanting her working on his team any more.

  ‘What a shit,’ Gabe eventually decreed. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m beginning to think that The Angel is really a wicked witch who puts a curse on everyone who has anything to do with her. If I thought I could get away with it I might do what Jodie suggested and burn her down.’

  ‘Maybe she’s an angel with dark moments,’ Alexia acknowledged. ‘But in ten weeks she’ll be dressed in new finery, even if it’s a bit more boho than she’s used to, and she’ll start replenishing your poor ravaged bank account. We’ll love her again by Christmas, you’ll see.’