‘...but the offer’s there if you need it’ Ingrid lights another cigarette and leans back in her chair, her eyes closed against the sun as she lifts her face to enjoy its warmth ‘This is more like it, isn’t it?’ she says, stretching out her legs ‘It can stay like this until December as far as I’m concerned’
‘Th-that’s very kind’ Jonathan says, sitting forward, his hands held loosely between his knees ‘B-but I’ve got no real idea how long it’d be for and I wouldn’t want to put you out’
She opens her eyes, shielding them with her hand as she looks across the patio table at him ‘It wouldn’t be. You’re very welcome and it’s okay with Alex. There’s no point spending money on a B and B if you don’t have to’
Jonathan laughs diffidently ‘But I couldn’t stay here without paying my way, I wouldn’t dream of d-doing that so it’s as b-broad as it’s long really, isn’t it?’
Ingrid takes another puff of her cigarette ‘Be doing well if I got anything like B and B rates out of my lot!’ she laughs ‘You can dib in with the food bill every now and again if you like but one more isn’t going to make a lot of difference’
The bedroom window above where they are sitting comes open ‘Mum, is my pink top washed?’ Roxanne asks, expecting her mother to be on her own. ‘Oh...um... hello Jonathan’ she mumbles. Blushing slightly, she finger waves and moves back into her room so that only her head protrudes over the sill and turns to Ingrid again ‘I can’t find it anywhere’
‘If you put it out for washing it’s been done. Check your ironing pile’
‘Oh, okay’ Roxanne ducks under the net curtain and the window closes.
Ingrid sighs and reaches for her mug ‘There are times when I think that girl couldn’t find her backside with both hands and a map!’ she takes a sip of coffee and another puff from her cigarette before stubbing it out. ‘I won’t do laundry, leastways I wouldn’t be doing yours; you’d be on your own there, I’ve got enough to do... but you could use the washing machine any time you liked...when it’s not already got something in it’ she makes a face ‘damned thing never seems to be off!’
‘L-like I said, it’s very kind but...’
‘I’ll leave it to you’ she interrupts him ‘but don’t go losing the sale on your house because you think you’ve got nowhere to go...’
Jonathan smiles with his lips closed as he swallows and puts his mug down. He wipes the corners of his mouth with his finger and thumb. ‘I won’t. Thank you’
They sit for a short while in companionable silence.
‘What about all your stuff though?’ the thought suddenly occurs to Ingrid ‘That’s got to go somewhere’
‘I’m actually organised!’ Jonathan huffs on his fingernails and rubs them on his polo shirt ‘M-made enquiries about a l-lock-up’ he says, grinning broadly ‘If the w-worst came to the w-worst, I could c-c-camp out!’ he laughs ‘But I’ll be fine, honestly’
‘As long as you know you’re not stuck. When does your friend need to move in? Can’t he wait until you’re ready to go into your place?’
‘I s-suppose I’m doing him a favour, really’ Jonathan lowers his eyes modestly ‘Their b-baby is due quite soon. I didn’t want them to be part of m-my chain when there are three m-more after me. I thought it’d be n-nice for them to get settled before the b-baby comes’ he gives a light shrug ‘My transfer’s come through for the beginning of next m-month, so I’d n-needed to be here then anyway’
Ingrid smiles at him, her head tilted to one side ‘You’re a really nice bloke, you know that?’
Jonathan blushes to the roots of his hair and looks down at the ground ‘Isn’t that’s w-what f-friends are for?’
She sits forward ‘And you must be a very good friend to have’ she says, embarrassing him further.
‘I thought I’d find you out here’ A pretty dark-haired girl rounds the corner of the house, followed by a short, chunky man carrying a mower. ‘Mum making the most of the sun; as per usual!’ she bends to kiss Ingrid’s cheek and looks at Jonathan expectantly.
Jonathan jumps to his feet and holds out his hand ‘I’m J-J-J-J....’ Ingrid prods him ‘Jonathan’ he manages eventually.
‘Ohhhhh’ she clasps his hand, smiling knowingly and rather than shaking it, pulls him forward to peck him on the cheek ‘And I’m Roberta...or Bob, whichever you like...and this...’ she turns to the man behind her ‘this is...’
‘Her other half’ he says, putting the mower down and nodding hello ‘Paul’ he introduces himself somewhat sullenly, staring at their joined hands until Jonathan lets go. ‘Thought you might be wanting this back’ he says to Ingrid ‘Thanks’
‘Oh, you could’ve kept it until you’d replaced yours’ she shields her eyes again to look up at him ‘We’ve got another one we can use’
‘Dad can use, you mean’ Roberta laughs ‘So you’re the famous Jonathan, are you?’ she turns a bright smile on him.
‘S-s-sorry?’ he questions, standing awkwardly until she sits down.
‘Heard a lot about you, that’s all’ she crosses one leg over the other and links her hands around her knee ‘How’s the house buying coming along?’
‘All s-s-settled, j-just waiting now....F-f-for the people ahead of me t-to get a m-move on’ he adds in explanation.
‘That can be a right bloody pain’ Paul says, taking the last of the four chairs around the table ‘I signed everything the minute it came through the door and got it back to the solicitor the same day, but not them. Needed a kick up the arse at every turn’
‘Oh....’ Jonathan defends the vendors ‘Mr. and Mrs. N-Nichol couldn’t be m-more helpful but I think the people they’re b-buying from have had some trouble w-with their mortgage’
‘Then it works its way down the chain’ Paul grunts ‘if it all goes tits up for them, you’re stuffed this end’
‘I’ll wait’ Jonathan smiles placidly ‘that’s the house I want. Unless they t-take it off the m-market completely, I’ll hang on’
‘You got one to sell?’
‘Yes’ he glances at Ingrid ‘b-but that’s no problem’
‘Transferring your mortgage?’
‘Paul!’ Roberta laughs incredulously ‘That really isn’t any of our business and this isn’t the Spanish Inquisition!’
‘I-I don’t have a mortgage’ Jonathan admits, lowering his eyes and squirming slightly.
‘What! You’re in the middle of a bloody chain and you haven’t got your mortgage sorted yet? So even if these other peop.......’
‘No, I m-mean I haven’t got a mortgage at all. I d-don’t need one’ he checks his watch and looks hopefully over his shoulder.
‘Okay for some!’ Paul says with sneering envy ‘Wouldn’t we all like to be without a mortgage’
Jonathan fixes him with a stare ‘I would rather be struggling with a mortgage if it meant I could still have my grandfather around’ he says levelly.
‘Okay you two’ Ingrid comes between them verbally ‘Break it up!’ she smiles and shakes her head before directing herself to Roberta ‘you staying for lunch?’
‘No, we’ve got stuff to do’ Paul answers for her.
‘Oi! She was talking to the organ grinder not the monkey’ Roberta slaps his arm with the back of her hand. ‘Thanks, that’d be nice’
‘But...’
‘No, Paul’ her chin sets stubbornly ‘You go do whatever it is that’s so important if you want to but I haven’t seen Mum in a week so I’m staying here. And we do have to eat, you know’
Jonathan looks on awkwardly and check his watch again ‘I think I had b-better go’ he says to Ingrid.
‘I’m sure Roz won’t be long’ Ingrid check her own watch ‘She’s generally home long before this’
‘P-perhaps see her another t-time’ he stands up ready to leave.
‘Ooooh’ Roberta warns ‘Someone won’t be happy’
He ignores the comment and turns to Ingrid ‘It w-wasn’t important. Thanks for the c-coffee’ he says stiffly ‘N-nice to meet you’ he nods at Roberta and Paul as he passes them.
‘Will we see you tonight?’ Ingrid calls after him.
Jonathan hesitates on reaching the corner of the house ‘Er...n-no, p-probably not’
‘Oh, okay. See you soon’
‘Yes’ he dips his head and studies his car keys for a moment ‘I expect so’
‘Bye then’ Ingrid waves and once he is out of sight, shares a look of curiosity and a shrug with Roberta.
The Red House,
Barleyfield Way
Chapter Thirty-eight
The White Horse
‘Penny for ‘em, Viv’enne’ George waves a hand in front of Vivienne’s face ‘Stick us another ‘un in there, gal’ he says, licking the last of his pint from his lips.
‘Sorry George. I was miles away’ she blinks and takes his glass to the pump.
‘You int kiddin!’ he chortles as he counts out the cost in his hand and sets the coins on the bar towel ‘I thought you’d gorn t’sleep’
‘That’s just what I could do with’ Viv turns her head and smiles wanly ‘Put me feet up for a bit and nod off. I feel absolutely shattered. Not sure why’
‘Yer age, I ‘spect’ George deduces in an offhand mumble while he returns the rest of his change to his pocket.
‘Thanks for that’
‘I were expectin Charlie’ he says, looking around the bar and missing the stony look she gives him. ‘thought e’d be in be now’
‘Haven’t seen him‘. His beer slops as she plonks down the glass.
‘Ere! Take it easy. Dear enough wi’out you wastin it’ George grumbles and lifts his pint to suck the first inch ‘Reckon you owes me a top’ he pushes the glass towards her.
Glaring, Viv takes it back for a one second squirt from the pump.
‘Blimmin ‘eck. Looks like you lost a quid an’ found sixpence’ he grimaces when the glass slams down again.
‘Being in here some days is enough to make anyone old and miserable and for your information, I haven’t quite got to that age yet, thank you very much!’
‘What age?’ George looks bewildered ‘I on’y said what every begger says t’me when I’s a bit dopey’
‘Oh, so you’re saying I’m dopey now?’
‘No I int! Blimey, I’m gonna sit down out the way, I can’t be doin wi’ stroppy wimmin. Thought you’d be glad t’be back’
‘You thought wrong then, didn’t you?’ Vivienne moves further down the bar.
