3
After finishing my pot of tea, I wheeled my trolleys back to the van and drove home, stopping at the tiny supermarket in Middlebeck, the village nearest my cottage, to grab appropriate makeover snacks. That then sent me into a near panic attack over whether to go for crisps, biscuits or ice cream, something more substantial like pizza or fancier like cheese and crackers. In the end, I threw them all in my basket along with bottles of wine, gin and lemonade.
‘Having a party?’ The fifty-something cashier, who liked to describe herself as a ‘local character’, asked, loading up two bulging bags. ‘Bit of a change from your usual healthy crap.’
‘Um. Something like that.’
‘Ooh – I know, you just got dumped!’ She winked at the teenage boy waiting in the queue behind me. ‘Break-up snacks.’
I almost retorted that if I had, then I’d hardly appreciate her announcing it to the whole shop. But then the thought flashed into my head that, if I’d been dumped, at least I’d have had a more recent boyfriend than William, who I broke up with on my twenty-first birthday after a lecture from Mum about priorities.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had been on dates since then.
Three, in total, with Stefan from the wholesalers. All in the month after Mum’s funeral, and all about as ill-judged and awkward as the cheap black heels I’d tottered about in at the wake.
Instead, I mumbled something about having a ‘girls’ night’, and gave a watery smile that became a tentative grin when I realised that this was sort of true.
I had a couple of hours to mush the marrowfat peas I’d soaked overnight with fresh mint leaves and lemon juice, ready the other items Parsley’s was running low on, shower and flap about making sure the house was tidy.
The last one didn’t take long, given that the whole cottage consisted of five rooms, which had all been tidied and cleaned the day before. Which was fortunate, as choosing what to wear for the first time Blessing had seen me out of uniform since Mum’s funeral took me forever. However many times I scanned my wardrobe, aside from my work clothes, there were still only the three pairs of jeans I’d ordered online and kept despite them hanging off my hips, four T-shirts in varying shades of dark blue, depending upon how faded they’d become in the wash, a grey cardigan and navy jumper, plus a black dress that looked as if I’d borrowed it from one of the stuffiestApprenticecandidates.
Surprise, surprise, I opted for my least saggy jeans and bluest T-shirt, jazzing things up with the cardigan and some stripy socks that Gregory had given me in last year’s secret Santa.
By the time Blessing arrived, I was debating whether to hide behind the sofa and pretend not to hear her knocking.
The section of brain that was still able to think rationally forced me to go and let her in, Parsley’s Pasties smile firmly in place.
‘Woah. What’s up?’ Blessing asked, wheeling a small suitcase into the living room. She’d swapped her work tunic for a black calf-length leather skirt and metallic jumper with matching ankle boots. I wondered if I should have worn the funeral dress after all.
‘I’m fine,’ I squeaked.
‘Girl, you are not fine.’
‘This is just… the first time I’ve had a friend over to my house.’
Blessing studied me carefully for a long minute. The gentle expression on her face was about the only thing preventing me from running upstairs and locking myself in the bathroom until she went away.
‘I hear you. After a shift surrounded by strangers rushing about, constant noise, Gavin droning on over the tannoy every thirty seconds, I’m straight in the bath, earplugs in, eye mask on. My sisters have learned that to interrupt me risks death by exfoliation. If I could come home to a quiet house, I’d never ask anyone over.’
‘Yeah. Most nights, I’m prepping for the next day, visiting the wholesalers and stuff anyway.’
‘Nell didn’t really believe in a social life, did she?’
‘Time off is for the lazy or feckless.’
She plopped onto the sofa. I forced down the prickle of anxiety caused by her taking my usual seat.
‘Anyway, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? So both of us can get off the Sherwood Airport Travelator of Endless Monotony. I’m thirty in a few months. Still sharing a bunk bed with my littlest sister. Maybe if I was a bit more like Nell, I’d have my own place, too.’ Blessing caught herself. ‘Sorry, was that totally tactless?Living alone because your mum died is nothing to be envious of. Crap. I’ve said something stupid again…’
‘No, it’s fine.’ I missed Mum, but nothing like I’d used to, and had heard enough about Blessing’s two sisters and three brothers to appreciate my own space.
She didn’t look as if it was fine. I almost told her where the bathroom was, in case she wanted to hide in there for a bit. Instead, I asked if she wanted any food.
‘What have you got?’
I bobbed my head a couple of times. ‘Might be easier to say what I haven’t got… or at least just show you.’
I led her through the tiny, decrepit kitchen where I made hot drinks and prepped my evening meals, into the sparkling chef’s kitchen where the real magic happened.
