Blackberry Way (Tales From Appleyard Book 4) Read online

  The policeman nearest to her raised his hand. ‘I understand that you were upset, Mrs Ashcombe. That was very clear to see when you came into the station, but it still didn’t give you the right to assault the man.’

  ‘I did not assault Francis Drummond. I threw a turkey at him, which is hardly the same thing. And you and I both know that the only reason I got dragged in here in the first place was so that you could keep your boss sweet; everyone knows he’s been in Drummond’s pocket for years. I bet you had a good laugh about it with him, didn’t you? About how you ticked me off, and told me to behave myself. It’s Drummond that needs keeping on a lead, not me.’

  The two men exchanged looks. ‘I rather think we’re getting off the point here…’

  ‘And yet it was you who brought the subject of the assault up, I believe?’ interrupted Stephen. ‘And as such, perhaps you could have the decency to listen to what Mrs Ashcombe has to say. At least try looking at it from her point of view.’ He turned to look Laura straight in the eye. ‘I would imagine that for someone who’s deaf, shopping in a supermarket just before Christmas must be hell – aside from the usual irritations, imagine what it must be like with people pushing past you, coming from no-where because you can’t hear them – glaring at you because they think you’re ignoring them. Shop staff with even less time than usual tutting and sighing at their ‘awkward’ customer, never realising that you can’t understand them. I bet their facial expressions hurt just as much as any words.’ He paused for a minute to check that Laura was following him. She nodded slightly.

  ‘Then, add to that the pain of having to spend another Christmas without the person you love, forcing yourself to be jolly and sociable which, by the way, only ever serves to reinforce the fact that you’re by yourself, and you probably don’t even come close to the way Laura was feeling that day. So, when a bully like Francis Drummond turns up, towering over her five-foot-three, shoving his face in hers and making rude and spiteful comments, it’s no wonder she lost her temper.’ He sat back in his chair, turning to look back at both policemen before returning his gaze to Laura. ‘Now, given all that, she still finds the courage to come and report a crime, knowing that she probably won’t be believed. And she does so not because she has a grudge against the Drummond family, but because an old lady has been knocked down and seriously hurt and it’s the right thing to do. I’ve validated everything she’s described this morning about what happened on Monday, except the identity of the driver which I couldn’t see. What more do you need to know?’

  Laura leaned up against the wall outside the police station, gasping for breath. ‘I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be laughing, but you should have seen your face when I said I’d thrown a turkey at Drummond. It was priceless.’

  Stephen caught both of her hands, pulling her upright. He faked hurt for a moment. ‘I thought I’d hidden it pretty well,’ he said, pretending to pout, although the corners of his mouth began to turn upwards despite his attempts at restraint. ‘You have to admit, it sounded really funny the way you said it. Did you honestly throw it at him?’

  ‘I did. It caught him square in the back of the neck,’ said Laura, grinning again. ‘It just came over me in a wave; I was so angry. I watched him walk away for a moment and then, boom! I picked up the nearest thing and hurled it at him – sent him sprawling. That’s why he made such a fuss of course, because the place was heaving and he went down like a sack of spuds. He did this poor me, I’m just an innocent defenceless man struck down by a lunatic woman routine. I couldn’t tell half of what was being said of course so I just kept shouting at him until the security guard came and hustled me away. I think they thought I was a spurned lover or something.’

  Stephen was properly laughing now, his eyes shining in amusement. ‘I wish I’d been there to see it—’ he said, and then he stopped. ‘Although if I had, things might have been a little different of course…’ And there was that look again, the one that Laura couldn’t define, but that was beginning to make her feel hot all over again.

  ‘Anyway,’ he continued, pulling away a little. ‘I’m glad the bastard got what he deserved, even though it’s meant you’ve had more of a tough time of things.’

  Laura nodded back towards the police station. ‘Will they do anything, do you think?’

  ‘Oh yes, I think they got the message,’ he replied, smiling. ‘The local police probably don’t see much more than a few kerfuffles outside the Red Lion on a Friday night. It’s pretty quiet around here, and they’re local lads after all, soaking up all the town gossip just like anyone else. Their attitude was somewhat different by the end of our conversation, don’t you think?’

  ‘Thanks to you,’ Laura remarked. ‘That was some speech.’

  Stephen thrust his hands into his pockets and swallowed hard. ‘I wanted them to treat you properly, that’s all.’ He dropped his head and mumbled something Laura couldn’t catch.

  ‘What was that?’ she asked, deliberately forcing Stephen to look up again.

  ‘I said, it’s only what anyone would do,’ he repeated.

  Laura held his look for a second before replying. ‘Really?’ she queried. ‘Only no-one has done anything like that in the last five years.’ She looked up and down the street again, conscious of Stephen’s eyes on her face. ‘I tell you what,’ she said, breaking the awkward silence. ‘Why don’t I buy you a coffee as a thank you? And the biggest piece of cake we can find. It’s the least I can do after you stuck up for me like that.’ She was pleased to see Stephen looked relieved.

  ‘Deal,’ he said, with a quick glance to his watch, ‘and then I’ve got to go and see a man about a disco of all things I’m afraid. I’m Sam and Freya’s official wedding entertainment co-ordinator, God help them.’

  Laura smiled. ‘Yes, I must get back too. Wedding bouquets to design and all that.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Is Mrs Muffin’s Tearoom okay? It’s the only place I’ve ever been in.’

  Stephen offered her his arm. ‘That will do fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll avoid the rock cakes though. That way if the conversation takes a turn for the worse I won’t end up with concussion.’

  Chapter 11

  Stephen drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He’d been stuck behind the tractor for what seemed like an age now, and whilst he hadn’t made any firm arrangement over what time he’d call in to confirm the disco booking, he was later than he’d planned, and getting later by the minute.

  It was partly his fault of course. His joke to Laura about the rock cakes had set her laughing again, and it had been so good to see her serious face lift and relax. If he was honest he was also rather relieved at having managed to turn the conversation back to something more light-hearted, rather than focusing on his behaviour at the police station. That conversation had danger written all over it, and he had been anxious to move away from all that it might have implied. Laura didn’t need those kind of complications in her life right now, and Stephen had been so surprised by how he had felt sitting next to her in the station that he had shoved these thoughts firmly to the back of his mind.

  Of course, this lightening of the mood, welcome though it was, had also meant that a quick coffee had turned into the best part of an hour-and-a-half as the conversation flowed. Now, he couldn’t remember half of what they had talked about, and that was something he didn’t want to think about either. He wasn’t used to feeling like this, hadn’t in fact at any time in his life so far, and the thought was more than a little unnerving. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He focused on his driving, and switched on the radio. He knew the road ahead like the back of his hand and there was no way he was going to get past this tractor. He was here for the duration, and he might as well try to find something to distract himself with.

  He fiddled with the radio until he found a station playing eighties songs. As a small child, their kitchen had always been the place for music, his mother’s tinny radio blaring it out from its permanent place on the window sill. He’d
never really bothered much with music over the years and they were still the songs he knew best. As he’d grown older he’d swapped the kitchen for the pub, or gone to clubs and parties. Records had been the background to much of life and yet he was ashamed to think how little he’d appreciated what he heard. In a few minutes he’d be finalising the music for his brother’s wedding reception and he had no idea what he wanted, what Sam and Freya would want. It was a stark reminder that so much in his life to date had been given so little thought. The only things he had cared about were his own selfish desires.

  He caught sight of himself in the wing mirror as he peered around the tractor and looked away. He had taken so much for granted: wealth, his home, his family. Even women, attracted at first by what they saw on the outside. They never stayed long of course, once they got to know Stephen, but that had never mattered. Plenty of sex and no commitments had suited him just fine. But now he wondered what it must be like to have none of those things? To love someone so much that the pain of being without them was almost unbearable, to have to fight for every penny, to feel alone almost every day, because an invisible disability distanced you from the world. Even the joy of music or birdsong was denied you. He pulled up behind the tractor as it stopped at the end of the road and switched the radio off. He had time to make a difference, he thought, as he turned the opposite way to the tractor and accelerated out onto the clear road. Not much time admittedly, but it would have to be enough.

  ‘It’s a good job I’ve known Sam since we were five,’ joked Ash, ‘you’re bloody hopeless.’

  Stephen pulled a face. ‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ he said, frowning. ‘Actually, tell me it’s not a problem and that you know exactly what music to play despite my lack of input.’

  Ash chewed the end of the pen he was holding. ‘Maybe now might be the time to tell you that I bumped into Sam at the petrol station last week and he gave me a bit of a heads up. He mentioned you might be clueless.’ He smiled. ‘In the nicest possible way of course… so we’ll be fine. I’ll get them all up and dancing, don’t worry, and I’ve come up with the perfect song for their first dance so even that’s sorted.’

  Stephen looked up sharply. ‘Oh God, is that a thing?’ he groaned. ‘How was I supposed to know that?’

  Ash grinned. ‘I think you might need to brush up on your best man’s duties… although I don’t suppose you ever thought you’d be needing to, what with… well everything that went on—’ He stopped for a moment, his face falling. ‘Sorry, mate, I didn’t mean…’

  Stephen shrugged. ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘It was a long time ago. A lot of water under the bridge, and me and Sam are good now. Freya too, actually.’ He swallowed.

  ‘Yeah, he mentioned that,’ replied Ash, with an answering nod. ‘I’m glad that things worked out…’

  ‘Me too. Freya and I… well it would never have worked. I know I’ve been a dick most of my life, but I’m genuinely glad she’s with Sam; it’s where she was always meant to be. It’s just unfortunate that despite my best intentions now, Sam still has a shit best man.’ He pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket. ‘At least I can do one thing though, and that is pay you. What did we say, two hundred and fifty quid, wasn’t it?’ He pulled out a roll of bank notes and placed them on the desk in front of him. ‘And you know where you’re going, don’t you? The marquee will be up from the Thursday before, so you can set up whenever suits you.’

  Ash pulled out a money tin from a drawer beside him. ‘Yeah, I’ll shout if I have any problems. Hang on a sec and I’ll print you out a receipt.’ He turned his computer screen back towards him and clicked the mouse that lay on the desk beside it. A printer behind him whirred into life and he passed the single sheet of paper it produced across to Stephen. ‘Cheers, mate. Another one to add to your pile, no doubt.’

  Stephen glanced at the paper before folding it in half. ‘Thanks Ash,’ he said with a grimace. ‘Now I’ll just go and worry about all the other things I’m supposed to be doing.’ He rose from his chair and crossed the tiny office from which Ash ran his business. The door was half open before he noticed the poster that was stuck on the back. He stopped for a moment, before turning back towards the room. ‘This something new, is it?’ he asked, tapping the poster.

  ‘Oh, aye,’ nodded Ash. ‘Got to move with the times my friend. Actually, they’ve been really popular. Good for a giggle and all that, especially when folks have got a few on board if you know what I mean.’

  Stephen looked down at the receipt in his hand. ‘Yeah, I bet,’ he said, thinking out loud. ‘I don’t really know much about them,’ he added. ‘How do they work exactly?’

  It was probably the worst idea he’d ever had. It was rash at the very least, but now that he’d done it, he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. The thought of Laura’s face when she realised what was happening, what it might lead to... Stephen groaned out loud, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He rested his head on the steering wheel and took deep breaths. Dear God, what on earth was the matter with him? He couldn’t sit in their driveway for long; any minute now Freya would look out of the kitchen window and spot him. But how on earth was he going to go inside and tell her, and Sam for that matter, that he’d just completely hijacked their plans for their wedding reception? And that wasn’t all he’d done either.

  He lifted his head and glanced down at his groin, checking that he had everything under control. Knowing how protective his future sister-in-law was of Laura, there was no way he could enter their kitchen in his current state. He was in for an ear-bashing as it was. He refocused his mind very firmly, and reluctantly climbed from the car.

  As it turned out the kitchen was empty when he pushed open the door, and a bout of loud yelling through the house brought no response either. Freya and Sam must both still be outside, which was a pity; he’d rather hoped that he’d be able to get either one of them on their own. He doubled back on himself, past the car and across the yard to the big barn that lay along one side of it. This too was empty, but as he neared the large open doors on the far side, voices floated through from outside. He groaned again. This was really not going well.

  She had her back to him as he emerged outside, but he could hear her soft voice trail off as she caught sight of Freya’s expression which changed to one of greeting as soon as she saw him. Laura turned around and he saw her cheeks coloured pink by whatever excitement had lifted her voice too. She was holding a bouquet in her hands.

  ‘I’d forgotten you were coming!’ exclaimed Freya, giving him a beaming smile. ‘Because look what Laura’s brought over to show me. Now I’m that bloody excited I can’t stand still.’ And as if to illustrate her point she gave a little hop. ‘What do you think? Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?’

  Stephen, who was looking at Laura, could only nod. It wasn’t until Freya took the bouquet from Laura’s hands offering it to him that he realised he was supposed to say something. He took the bouquet, feeling the coolness of the blooms against his skin, the rosy apples mingled with creamy flowers, scarlet hips and dusky blackberries. There wasn’t anything he could think of to say.

  ‘It’s just a rough one,’ said Laura. ‘You know, to give you the idea of how it might look, what we might use.’

  Stephen nodded again. ‘It doesn’t look rough,’ he managed. ‘It looks perfect… I couldn’t quite grasp what you meant when you described it to me this morning, but now…’ He was aware of Freya staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t look at her.

  ‘I’d forgotten that you two had already seen one another today,’ said Freya, taking hold of Laura’s arm. ‘How did that go? Come on, we can go and put the kettle on and you can tell me all about it.’ She beamed at Stephen. ‘And bring that, I don’t think I can bear to let it out of my sight.’

  Fortunately for Stephen, Laura and Freya were so excited that he hardly needed to say a word, which was just as well considering that his ability to speak had someho
w deserted him. Unfortunately, however, Laura’s excitement at Freya’s reaction to her flowers spilled over into her recounting their time in the police station that morning and so instead Stephen had to sit squirming at every mention of his name.

  ‘Well I hope they string the bastard up,’ declared Freya. ‘And well done you, Stephen, for sticking up for Laura. I had no idea that all this with Francis had gone on before, but then I don’t suppose many people do. I hate the way he does business and most of the growers around here would probably say the same, but that’s entirely different. I had no idea what a horrible man he was personally.’ She took a sip of tea from the mug in front of her. ‘As far as Giles is concerned, I’ve always thought there’s truth in that old saying that the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree.’ She took Laura’s hand. ‘Have you heard how your friend is doing?’

  Laura shook her head. ‘No, I was planning on going to see her tomorrow,’ she replied, running a finger around the bottom of her mug. ‘I’ve been putting it off to be honest… I don’t have very fond memories of that hospital.’ She gave an apologetic smile. ‘But I must go, Blanche was very good to me when David died.’

  ‘Well, Stephen can go with you, can’t you Stephen? That would help, surely, having some company.’

  Stephen couldn’t believe it. He tried to glare at Freya without Laura noticing, but of course she had her eyes fixed on his face so it was impossible. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go, far from it in fact, but simply that the way he was feeling right now, being around Laura for too long probably wasn’t a great idea. If only Freya hadn’t blurted it out the way she had. Perhaps if she’d run it by him first, he could have tactfully made an excuse, or at least let her understand some of his… difficulties… but there was nothing for it now. He fixed a bright smile to his face.

  ‘Well, that sounds sensible. I’m more than happy to go with you, Laura, if that’s okay with you of course.’