Despite my protests, I couldn’t deny Gideon had a point. Compared to many, I was fortunate. Ever since Gran taught me to knit as a child, I knew I’d have a job for life. For years, she and I fantasised about me taking over her little wool shop so she could enjoy her dotage, and while Gran might have left her retirement too late to see our plans through, I was still living a version of our dream. I didn’t even have a commute. Come five o’clock all I had to do was lock up, turn the door sign to closed and head upstairs to my flat.
‘We’re meant to be decorating the tree.’
‘I’m not stopping you from doing it.’
‘And dinner’s all but ready.’ I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He didn’t sound like it, but surely Gideon had to know how important that evening was. To me and to our relationship. ‘I suppose I could save you a plate.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll grab something on my way home. We can eat together another night.’
I cocked my head, unable to believe what I was hearing. ‘You mean you’re not coming over at all?’
‘After a long day like today I wouldn’t be much company.’
My gaze went from the oven to the beautifully laid table, through to the dimly lit lounge where flames danced in the hearth. Wriggling in my seat, I again felt my new knickers sitting awkwardly. Releasing my trapped skin, I was damned if all my efforts and discomfort were going to be for nothing. ‘I could run you a bath,’ I said, practising my come-to-bed eyes. ‘A relaxing soak would be the perfect wind-down.’
Gideon let out a hollow laugh. ‘I’ve always been more of a shower man.’
‘Not a problem.’ A delicious smile spread across my face and my tone turned sultry. ‘Play your cards right, and I might join you.’
‘Honestly, Hattie, as tempting as you think that is, it’s gonna have to be a no.’
My shoulders slumped. ‘Spoil sport.’
The romantic bubble I’d spent hours creating finally burst and I fell silent. Sitting there in fancy underwear while offering myself up no longer felt flirtatious. It felt humiliating. I should have known Gideon wouldn’t play along. He probably didn’t know how to. In all the time I’d known him, banter of any kind had never been his thing.
Unless Erin and Joyce are right,I considered.And I do need to heed Gloria Chalmers’s warning.Despite poo-pooing their suggestion that Gideon could be having an affair, as I chewed on the inside of my cheek, I couldn’t help but wonder if my friends were right.
‘Look, I’ve got to go,’ Gideon said. ‘I’ll speak to you tomorrow, yeah?’
Desperate for some sort of reassurance, I opened my mouth to speak, but as kept happening of late, Gideon ended the call before I could utter a word. I stared at my phone, taking in the happy photo of me and Gideon that filled its screen. I ran my finger over his beaming smile.He wouldn’t,I silently insisted.He couldn’t.
Turning my attention back to the room, I rose to my feet ready to unlay the table.
CHAPTER6
Thanks to Gideon’s no-show, I’d spent the night tossing and turning. My brain had gone into overdrive, dissecting every conversation Gideon and I had had over the last couple of months. Analysing every word for clues regarding his fidelity, like an emotional pendulum my thoughts kept swinging first one way and then the other. One minute, yes, he was being unfaithful. What other explanation could there be for his distancing? In the next, he wasn’t. Gideon was too honest for that.
To quieten my mind, I did what I always did when I had a problem and couldn’t sleep. I stopped thinking about it altogether, got up and set about cleaning. Keeping myself busy had always been therapeutic and by 9am when it was time to open The Knitting Nook, I’d scrubbed, bleached and polished the whole of my flat until it shone. Goodness knew what my neighbours must’ve thought about the early morning vacuuming.
Once I’d opened up downstairs, I spent the rest of the morning tidying the shop and at almost lunchtime I could finally stand back to admire my efforts.
Row upon row, one on top of the other, every ball of wool now sat perfectly aligned. Pattern files stood to attention, organised according to yarn, project type, man, woman and child. After finding the perfect attention-grabbing spot near the entrance, the Christmas gifts I’d ordered were now in full display. I let out a satisfied sigh. Whether they wanted them for their own stockings or someone else’s, I knew my regulars would find the little cross-stitch kits, DIY macramé sets and make your own finger puppet selection as irresistible as I did.
I looked out onto the street and, my heart melting at the sight that met me, it seemed I, at last, had a reason to smile. Alex, well over six foot, looked like a gentle giant next to the little old lady he helped across the road. Carrying her two-wheeled shopping trolley in one hand, his other rested against the lady’s upper back. He was clearly happy to go at the lady’s slow and measured pace and his kindness in guiding her to safety struck me. The two of them chatted as they went; a conversation that continued once they reached the other side. Alex passed the shopping trolley back to its owner and I couldn’t help but smile as they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Settledown was a world away from the city with its bright lights and fast pace, and Alex appeared to fit right in with the gentler way of living.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me I’d missed breakfast on account of not wanting to mess up my newly pristine kitchen. But with twenty minutes still to go before I could close for my lunchbreak, food would have to wait. Glancing around in search of something else to occupy my mind, my eyes fell on the till and the crochet project I was working on. However, with thoughts of Gideon re-emerging in my head, I wasn’t in the mood. I’d only make a mistake and ruin it.
Taking my seat at the counter, I yet again insisted the very idea of Gideon having an affair was laughable. The Gideon I knew had never as much as broken a speed limit let alone someone’s heart. He never socialised unless it was a works’ do. The few friends he had were back in his hometown and the mere suggestion of going out clubbing would bring him out in hives. Thanks to his disdain for dating apps, Gideon had neither the will nor opportunity to do the dirty. If I hadn’t contacted his office for assistance after Gran’s death, he’d never have met me. The only chance he had to meetanyonewas through his job.
A picture of Julia popped into my head and as my uneasiness snapped back into focus, I recalled the previous December when Gideon had first introduced me to his colleague. It was at his office Christmas party, and outside screens or magazines, I’d never seen a woman so glamorous. She put the rest of us in our more casual attire to shame with her coral flutter-sleeve jumpsuit and gold high-heeled sandals. Her make-up was striking and unlike my recent and rather disastrous attempt at a chignon, her lustrous raven updo was styled to perfection.
I frowned. Realising Gideon had yet to mention that year’s upcoming office shindig, and I wondered if I should?
The shop doorbell rang and I was glad of the interruption. Wills Patterson burst in from the street bringing a blast of cold air with him. I pulled my cardigan tight across my chest.
‘Thank goodness I caught you,’ Wills said. ‘I thought you might be shut for lunch.’ He put a hand up to straighten his windswept hair, but thick and wiry, his follicles appeared to have minds of their own. After every sweep they sprang back up into their original position. ‘I was just ribboning Mable’s dressing gown, and I ran out of thread, can you believe?’
Very much able to, I smiled. Wills had been the costume designer for Settledown’s am-dram group Dramarama since forever and I’d yet to experience a production of theirs that didn’t involve at least one haberdashery emergency. This was Wills’s third such visit in as many weeks, so theirPirates of Penzanceinspired pantomime was proving no different.
