The Nothing Girl Part 14

'No, its not. Now put on something that wont mind getting muddy and off we go.

So we did.

Mrs Crisp asked if we were going up on to the moors. I said tersely that I didnt know. She looked embarra.s.sed.

'We always ask, Mrs Checkland. The weather up there is very changeable, especially at this time of year. If you dont come back then we know where to look.

'Oh. Sorry. Yes I am, but not very far. Ill ... stick to the path.

She nodded and we set off.

We walked up the lane past the Braithwaites place. He was just emerging from the barn and waved. I waved back, slightly cheered by this small sign of friendliness.

As always, the air up here was crisp and clear. I felt it blow away more than my bad mood. The ground was wet underfoot, but the sun was struggling to come out. Perhaps it was an omen.

We walked for about an hour. Thomas was very quiet and I was lost in my own thoughts.

'What are you worrying about? Whether he will be at Frogmorton when we get back, or whether he wont?

'I dont know, I said, honestly.

' Try not to worry too much. Its been a pretty rough forty-eight hours. A good nights sleep and some time to reflect and maybe things will get back on track.

Are you talking about him or me?

'Actually, Im not sure.

He wasnt there when we got back. Mrs Crisp, looking even more worried than ever, asked me if he would be back for dinner. I said, truthfully, that I didnt know.

I sat in my room and wondered if I should telephone Andrew, but decided against it. If he was there then they would have called.

'Maybe hes finally run off with Francesca, I said.

' Will you get over this obsession with Francesca? The chances are that hes woken up, felt like death, and gone back to sleep again. If he has left the hotel, hes probably taken himself off somewhere quiet where he can calm down and start feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself.

I nodded. He was probably right.

'Now, start unpacking and putting down roots.

So I did. Mrs Crisp brought me some tea. I unpacked and hung my clothes, sliding my wedding dress carefully to one side of the wardrobe. I laid my bits and pieces on the dressing table and my toiletries in the bathroom. Thomas was right. He usually was, although there was no need to tell him that. I did feel better. Tomorrow, I would unpack my books and laptop.

I had dinner in solitary state in the little morning room, having refused point-blank to use the awful dining room. The living room seemed cold and bleak and was full of my boxes, so when Id finished eating, I went to bed.

Mrs Crisp said goodnight gravely and watched me go. I managed to get into my room before the tears started to fall. I curled on the bed and sobbed. Thomas gave me a few minutes before dropping his head and nuzzling my hair. The room filled with the smell of ginger biscuits.

I gulped a bit and pulled myself together.

'So, said Thomas. 'Was this day as bad as yesterday?

'Not quite.

'Well, there you go then. Progress.

'Thomas, where is he? What could he be doing?

'I dont know, but h.e.l.l be back soon. He has to be. He lives here.

'He was drunk at the wedding. He didnt attend the reception, such as it was. Now hes gone missing. Do you think we should call the police?

'No, said Thomas, firmly.

'Well, if he hasnt gone off with Francesca then the only reason hes not here is because he doesnt want to be with me.

'Yes, I think you might be right.

'What?

' No, I didnt mean that. I think hes too ashamed to show his face. Lets face it, he frightened you last night, he wakes up this morning and youre gone. Hes the one who should be panicking, not you. h.e.l.l turn up tomorrow, you just wait and see.

Somewhat comforted, I went to bed.

He didnt turn up tomorrow. I went downstairs for breakfast and now Mrs Crisp looked really anxious. 'Hes not a bad lad, she said. 'But he does take things to heart sometimes. Always has.

My thoughts went back to Francesca again, wondering what sort of body blow she had dealt him this time and whether she had done it out of spite, or, more likely, was just too stupid and self-absorbed to realise the damage she had done.

Mrs Crisp disappeared and I slowly finished my breakfast and wondered what to do next.

'Boxes, said Thomas, who appeared to have some sort of box fixation. ' Get your books arranged and youll feel better.

So I did, taking my time and arranging them on the half-empty shelves in the living room. Even so, I was finished by lunchtime. I unpacked my laptop and set it to charge.

I looked around the big, cold house and wondered what had happened to the bright, warm world Id known here only a couple of weeks ago. I went up to my room again.

'Jenny, you must stop this, said Thomas. ' You moved the world to get away from your aunt and all youre doing is sitting alone in yet another bedroom. This is your house. You can go wherever you like. Do whatever you like.

'Thomas, I dont know what to do. I never thought I would be here alone like this. I just dont know what my role here is. Aunt Julia never lifts a finger except to arrange a flower or two. Mrs Finch does pretty well everything, but Im not sure thats for me. But not only do I not know what to do, I dont know how to do it, either. I could probably plug in a vacuum cleaner, or dust something, but I dont know how to run a house. What would Mrs Crisp say? What does she want me to do? Being Jenny Checkland is very different from being Jenny Dove.

'Well, tell her.

'What?

' Shes not a monster, Jenny. Shes nice old Mrs Crisp who looked after Russell when his mother died and is probably worried to death, not only about where he is at the moment, but also whether shes still going to have a job here under the new regime.

I hadnt thought of that. That someone could be even more apprehensive about the future than me. Feeling a little braver, I went downstairs. Lunch was on my own again. I ate slowly and then took my dishes back to the kitchen.

'Oh, Mrs Checkland, I would have done that.

'Its all right, Mrs Crisp. Can we have some tea, please? Id like to talk with you.

She bustled about while I clenched my hands and tried to marshal words in some sort of order. When everything was ready and I couldnt put it off any longer, I began.

'I ... need your help, Mrs Crisp. I dont ... know what to do. Russell isnt here to ... tell me. I dont know where he is. Ive ... never run a house. What do I do? ... Do I offer to help? Its a ... big house. I should be ... doing things. But I ... dont ... know what.

All that took a very long time. At the end, I sipped my tea and didnt look at her.

She folded and re-folded a tea towel. 'Im so pleased to have this opportunity to talk to you, Mrs Checkland. And we certainly dont need Russell to sort this out. Not that hed be the slightest use anyway. I dont know where he is, either, but dont you worry yourself, my dear. Hes probably not daring to come back because he knows hes not too big to get a clout round the ear when he does. Properly speaking, of course, thats your job now. If you need something to stand on, just let me know.

She looked so fierce, I couldnt help laughing. I just hoped shed never come after me with a tea towel!

'But thank you for your offer, Mrs Checkland. Its gratefully accepted. Ive been thinking about this. When the other Mrs Checkland, Russells mother, was here, we would get together on Mondays and talk over menus and things and what we needed for the coming week. Then on Fridays, I would present her with the bills and wed do the accounts. Would you like to start with that?

I could do that. I nodded. This was much easier than I had thought it would be. Across the kitchen, Thomas was nodding encouragement and approval.

'About the housework, she s.h.i.+fted in her chair. I thought this had been too easy. Was some ghastly domestic problem about to present itself and I had to sort it out? I remembered Aunt Julia once saying that any sentence that started with the words, 'I wonder if I might have a word with you, madam ... was the lead-in to domestic meltdown. I braced myself.

'The thing is, she said slowly and then straightened her back and carried on more firmly, 'the thing is, when the other Mrs Checkland was here, there was me, of course, and two women from the village came up to help. Just part-timers, a couple of days a week. When it was just Russell and me, it didnt matter so much, but now hes opened up the house again, theres all these rooms to clean, and Kevins here so theres extra laundry and extra meals, especially if everyone doesnt eat together, and Im sorry, Mrs Checkland, but Im not as young as I used to be and ... She stopped. I wasnt the only one who feared for the future.

I patted her hand. Aunt Julia would have thrown a fit but tastefully, of course.

'Its OK, Mrs Crisp. Well Ill see what I can do. I didnt have a clue, but hopefully, Id think of something.

If anything, her embarra.s.sment increased. 'To tell the truth, Ive already got someone in mind, only I havent liked to mention it because, well, shes a relative and it didnt seem proper somehow.

Tired from all that talking, I just raised an eyebrow, but she understood.

'Actually, I think you might already know her. Its Sharon Ellis. She used to be a waitress at The Copper Kettle. Shes my niece.

My mind flew back. 'Has she left?

'They werent very kind to her. And shes a good girl and a very hard worker. You wouldnt regret it, Mrs Checkland. She bakes like a dream. She wants her own cake shop one day. Thats why she can only do part-time. She goes to college two days a week.

'She sounds ideal.

She nodded. 'Thank you, Mrs Checkland. Ill give her a ring. Sh.e.l.l be thrilled.

My first decision as Mrs Checkland. I felt quite proud of myself. And if Russell didnt like it then he should have b.l.o.o.d.y well been here to say no.

'Fine. In the ... meantime, shall I lend a hand until she starts?

'That would be appreciated, thank you.

'Ive finished my books, so Ill get rid of the ... boxes and dust and hoover the living room.

It was never going to be that easy.

'Ill dust. You hoover.

'OK, I said, feeling a little bit happy for the first time in ages.

We compromised again that evening. I had a delicious dinner on a tray on my lap in the newly cleaned living room. A fire crackled merrily in the gate. The curtains were closed and Id switched off the harsh overhead light and just kept the wall lamps. It was the kind of room that looked best in the evening.

Thomas and I watched a little television afterwards. I was relaxed and happy, looking around and thinking how much better everything was looking when the door opened and Russell Checkland walked in.

Chapter Six.

My heart stood still. I stared up at the tall figure outlined by firelight and felt absurdly guilty all my quiet pleasure in the day destroyed. I didnt know what to do. My legs were underneath me so I was in no position to move quickly, should I have needed to do so.

'Calm down, said Thomas. ' This is Russell Checkland. You played together when you were children. He took on your Aunt Julia and won. Just sit still and see what happens.

The world had stopped. Apart from the crackling fire and the irritatingly irregular tick-tock from the old clock in the corner, there was no sound. Gradually, I began to unclench.

Finally, he spoke. In a choked voice, he said, 'Sorry.

He stepped forward as he said it and I was shocked. I dont know what had happened or where hed been and I wasnt going to ask, but he was suffering. The shadows around his eyes were dreadful. At some point, hed slept in his clothes. Even now, he wasnt completely sober. And he was exhausted. His hands were shaking. What could have done this to him?

I should say something, but I was so shocked that nothing was going to get through, so I stepped up to him and gently touched his arm. Close up, he smelled of drink, stale clothes, and sweat.

I went out into the kitchen. Mrs Crisp turned from the stove. I think shed been crying. She said, 'If you can get him upstairs, Ill bring tea and maybe you can get him to eat some toast.

That seemed a good idea, so I went back into the living room. He still stood exactly where Id left him.

I took his hand and led him to his bedroom. He followed like a child.

Im not sure what Id expected his room to be like but it was just an ordinary room. Bigger than usual, with the crimson-covered bed on a small platform, but, apart from that, it was completely normal. Given its owner, Id expected more. Some artistic statement maybe, or even monastic austerity, but there was nothing to grasp. No clues as to its owners character. Maybe he was afraid to reveal his inmost self. Maybe he didnt know how. Everything was clean and in its proper place, but bleak. Sad. Empty. In my head, I groped for the right word. Desolate. A room of disappointment. A framed photo of his mother stood on a chest of drawers by the window, but though I looked around as discreetly as I could, I couldnt see any of Francesca anywhere. If they had been here, they were gone now.

I sat him on the bed and pulled off his jacket and shoes. His clothes were wet. I said, 'Undress, and went to run the shower. When I came out, he was just pulling his s.h.i.+rt over his head. Apart from that one word, he still hadnt said a thing.

I held the bathroom door open and he walked in. Closing it behind him, I turned down the bed and then picked up his clothes.

Mrs Crisp knocked gently. She pa.s.sed me the tray, I handed her his wet things. She wouldnt come in. This was my job now. I put the tray on the bedside table.

He emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his hair dry and sat on the bed, not looking at me.

I said, 'Mrs Crisp brought you a tray, and turned to walk out. He caught my wrist and seemed to be struggling for words. Welcome to my world.

I said, 'Do you want to talk to me?

He nodded, so I pulled up a chair and sat down.

Nothing was emerging from this promising beginning, so I poured him some tea, sat quietly, and waited. No one knew better than me how tough this was.

He sipped the tea but pushed the toast away. I never thought Id see Russell Checkland reject food.