‘I don’t think so. They’ll give me a shout if they want anything else doing, surely?’
‘Always worth an ask. You know Barney hates DIY and you did a great job there over the summer doing their place up and getting the annexe all ready for Frank to move into. Having his dad sleeping next door instead of across the landing has made Barney very happy. Frank too. He loves his privacy, doesn’t he? Just give them a call.’
‘It’s okay, I don’t want you all to think you’re obliged to magic up jobs for me,’ Rick said. ‘I’ll just have to be a bit more creative in putting the word about. I’ve finished all the work I needed to do on my own house and now I’m just rattling around the place on my own. I’m wishing I hadn’t let Barney and Nell adopt my dog when I was so busy over the summer. Bathsheba was miserable being left alone all day when I was so busy. She didn’t take to the run and kennel I made for her in the garden. I never had the time to walk her properly either. A big dog like a Borzoi needs a lot of exercise. I miss her.’
‘I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you had her back,’ said Maryam. ‘But don’t rush into anything, because hopefully you’ll get more work soon and I know Bathsheba gets on well with Frank’s dog. She’s getting plenty of walks with Anton.’
Rick couldn’t help smiling when he thought about Bathsheba’s new friend. A strange mixture of breeds, the canine resident of Hollyhocks Cottage had an unusual feature; a toothy grin that had caused him to be named after a certain judge onStrictly Come Dancing.
‘You’re right. I’ll try and be patient,’ Rick said. ‘It’s not easy, though, I’ve never…’
He stopped talking abruptly as a bell jangled. The shop door opened wide, and a woman entered. She was tall, with lightly tanned olive skin and a short mop of dark hair which framed an elegant, high cheek-boned face. At the moment the face held an expression that Rick found hard to read, except that it definitely wasn’t a happy one. Her eyes were brown and almond-shaped, fringed with long, sooty lashes, and her lips were painted a glossy red. She wasn’t exactly pretty but there was something arresting about her. Something dramatic and vaguely unsettling.
The newcomer was wearing tight black jeans tucked into high-heeled ankle boots and the kind of long, swishy coat that Rick seemed to remember his ex, Stacey, describing when she was telling him what she wanted for Christmas one year, although even to his untrained eye, this one looked far from being brand new. Unfortunately, at the time he’d already splashed out on a fancy weekend in Skegness for the whole family and a new hoover to replace the one that had recently blown up. Stacey left soon after that. The rainy weekend hadn’t been a success and she’d thrown the hoover at the wall as she departed.
‘Hello there,’ Maryam said, smiling. ‘How can I help you? I don’t think I’ve seen you in Willowbrook before. Aha, I’ve got it, you’re…’ She stopped and clicked her fingers, clearly trying to remember a name.
The woman smiled back, a little hesitantly. ‘I’ve only just arrived here,’ she said. ‘I’m moving into Fiddler’s Row. Number four,’ she added, when Rick looked puzzled.
Light dawned. ‘Oh, are you the new tenant?’ Rick said, pulling himself together with difficulty. ‘I know none of those houses are up for sale, but that makes sense. I guess… I mean, there’s a lot to do there. The last people weren’t very… they were a bit…’
‘Tell me about it,’ the woman said, pulling a face. ‘The state of the place is a joke, except it’s not in the least bit funny. I’m not a tenant, it’s mine. I grew up there, and my mum left the cottage to me. I need to make a start somewhere but I’m not sure where.’
‘I did wonder how anyone could live there as it stands. What will you do?’ asked Maryam.
‘Well, I need to eat tonight so I’m going to have to get milk and bread and a few other things. And wine. It’ll have to be screw-top though. And plastic glasses and paper plates. Maybe some disposable cutlery. Oh, heavens, I need absolutely everything and that kitchen’s a health hazard so it’ll need to be a picnic in the garden anyway. I’m going to have to hurry up and find a B&B for a few nights while I start to get sorted. Why didn’t I do this earlier? I must have been crazy, thinking I could stay in Dragonfly Cottage straight away. Is there anywhere in the village?’
Maryam and Rick regarded her with equal expressions of sympathy. Rick remembered starting pretty much from scratch in the months after Stacey left but at least he’d claimed some of their kitchen equipment and half the furniture for his tiny flat and had eventually managed to buy another house. It sounded as if this poor soul had nothing at all. Although the termpoor souldidn’t describe this woman one bit.
‘You could stay at mine, babe,’ he blurted out, and then closed his eyes in horror at what he’d just said. Not only had he invited her to live in his house, he’d called her ‘babe’, a name that some of the local women of his acquaintance had lately been trying to stop him from using.
The shocked burst of laughter that followed this bold invitation hit Rick with a bolt that rocked him. With his eyes still tightly closed, her looks didn’t distract him, but the laugh took him straight back to a time when he was someone else entirely.
‘You’re Venetia Prescott,’ Rick said. He opened his eyes at last and found her staring at him.
‘Well, yes, I am, but I’m usually called Vee,’ she said. ‘Should I know you?’
Rick exchanged glances with Maryam, who, discreet as usual, had been busying herself with continuing to tidy the counter area. Her dark eyes were bright with interest, but her expression was determinedly neutral. Rick shook his head very slightly, hoping she’d get the message.
‘I expect you bumped into each other at some point when you both lived here years ago,’ Maryam said, taking the hint. ‘And Rick isn’t being presumptuous in offering you a home. He was only just telling me that he was thinking of advertising his spare room to see if he could find a lodger. I’ve a board over by the door where I pin up postcards about that kind of thing. He was about to put a notice there.’
‘Oh, I see. I’m sorry I laughed, it was a surprise, that’s all. I didn’t assume you were propositioning me,’ said Vee. ‘I’m not that much of a catch. Middle-aged women tend to assume they’re invisible unless proved otherwise.’
Looking more closely, Rick could see faint streaks of grey in Venetia’s hair but there was no way this woman could ever be invisible. He opened his mouth to argue with her statement, but Maryam got in first. ‘Tell me about it,’ she said. ‘If I wasn’t dressed from head to foot in sparkly pink silk, I think I’d just blend into the wallpaper these days.’
Vee raised her eyebrows and smiled. ‘I find that hard to believe. I can see that I’m a good bit older than you and anyway, you’d look amazing in whatever you chose to wear.’ She turned to look at Rick properly. ‘Anyway, if you’re serious about letting me rent a room, I’d love to see it. I’d only need to stay while I make my place habitable. I don’t know why I imagined I could just move in. In my head it was going to be like taking over an Airbnb that had been well cared for, but I’m going to need to gut the whole house.’
A flurry of customers made further conversation impossible for a while. Rick and Vee eyed each other somewhat warily as Maryam dealt with the queue. When the last of the people had left the shop, Rick said, ‘Why don’t you come back with me now and take a look at the room? Maryam can vouch for me, if you’re worried about me being a bit dodgy.’
There was silence as Vee considered this suggestion. Then she smiled. ‘You don’t look like any kind of villain, to be fair. If you’re sure that’s not putting you out, it sounds like a very good plan. There’s nothing in the kitchen fit to use.’
Vee paid for her purchases, saying that wherever she slept that night, she’d need them. Rick stood back to let her get on with her task, his mind reeling at what he’d done. It was one thing talking about getting a lodger but quite another to find one so quickly and for it to be none other than the notorious Venetia Prescott, who had caused such a stir before she left the village when she was in her teens and whose exit with her family was talked about for many months afterwards.
Maryam gave Rick a thoughtful look as he ushered Vee out of the shop. He expected that she must be wondering why, if he’d recognised the newcomer so easily, Vee seemed to have no clue as to who Rick was. This was no mystery to him. Back in 1985, when the Prescott family had left Willowbrook so suddenly, Rick hadn’t looked anything like the man he was today. Now, his image was very different. Reinventing yourself took time and effort. Cut-off jeans, heavy work boots, a series of funky t-shirts and vests and a healthy outdoor tan were his trademark these days, along with the cropped hair, bleached by the local hairdresser every now and again to hide the greys, and just a touch of stubble. Rick was fit and strong, with a toned body and a friendly smile that showed off a dimple in one cheek.
He held the door open for Vee, and she thanked him graciously. On the pavement, she paused. ‘I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but can I say one thing?’
Rick nodded, alarmed, but she patted his arm.
