It Started With A Tweet(78)

‘I guess I should; you know, to see if Erica has written to me.’

‘Erica, of course,’ she says, nodding in a way that makes me wonder if she knows what’s been going on with Jack.

I’m secretly hoping he’s back and has left me a note, but I don’t want to show that on my face so I try and look as normal as possible.

With the path being no match for my walking boots, I stride up purposefully and I’m almost there when I hear a woman giggling by the side of the crumbling barn. I recognise that long hair immediately.

‘Ooh, stop it,’ she says in mock protest, as she leans into a kiss and I see hands creeping over her bum.

It looks as if she got hold of Jack after all, so I spin on my heels, no longer caring what the mailbox holds.





Chapter Twenty-Four

Time since last Internet usage: 2 weeks, 5 days, 5 hours, 58 minutes and 10 seconds

Trish’s yoga class is unlike any I ever attended in London. The poses are obviously the same, and Trish’s gentle prodding and pulling of my limbs into the right positions is familiar, but the eclectic mix of attendees is certainly very different. It seems every woman, and at least one dog, along with a couple of token males, has come to the village hall. Yet, perhaps more surprising than seeing Liz and Gerry in matching Lycra, is the fact that after the class there’s complimentary tea and coffee with Bourbon biscuits. No wheatgrass smoothies or super berries in sight.

‘So, how did you enjoy it?’ asks Jenny, who, after I’d spotted her earlier, is the last person I want to see.

‘I really enjoyed it,’ I say stretching my arms around. ‘I’ve had a busy day of decorating. You been working hard all day, have you?’ I say, rather more accusatory than I meant.

‘Oh, um, I worked this morning.’

‘Ah, yes, I thought I saw you up our way this afternoon,’ I say as if I’m an amateur sleuth cracking a case.

‘Yes, I came to see Jack. Ah, you must be Rosie,’ she says, relieved to see my sister, who’s joined us.

‘I am indeed, nice to meet you .?.?.’

‘Rosie, this is Jenny. She’s a mobile hairdresser,’ I add helpfully, choosing to leave out that she’s also Jack’s fancy woman, as I wouldn’t be able to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

‘Oh great,’ says Rosie, ‘I’m in desperate need of a cut.’

Jenny looks as if she’s studying Rosie’s hair, which looks pretty pristine in her neat ponytail. She then looks at mine, which makes me feel self-conscious as I can’t remember the last time I had it cut. It probably looks even scruffier than usual now that it’s scraped back into a messy bun. I pat it down a little as, thanks to the yoga, it’s now half fallen out and sweaty, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got paint spots in it too.

‘Perhaps I can come over next week. I’m over your way a lot.’

I grit my teeth. She sure is.

‘Add me as a Facebook friend – I’m Jenny Chops Chapman – I’m the only one.’

‘Oh, right,’ says Rosie, looking at me. ‘We don’t have the Internet at the moment .?.?. You know, because of the renovation.’

‘I’ll give you my mobile number and you can text me.’

She shakes her head again.

‘You don’t have a phone? What, neither of you?’ she says, looking at us as if we’re from the Dark Ages.

‘No signal,’ I say, lying.

‘Of course,’ says Jenny. ‘Well, how about I leave a list of free appointments with Liz at the post office and you can tell them to let me know if they’re any good.’

‘Perfect, thank you,’ says Rosie.

I make a mental note to go out. As friendly as Jenny is, I don’t want to hear her gossiping with Rosie about her boyfriend.

‘So, aside from the lack of phone signal and Internet, how are you finding it up here? Everyone friendly enough?’

I’m about to leave Rosie to the conversation, when Gerry yanks her off to the side, and I feel that I can’t be rude and leave Jenny on her own.

‘It’s been really good,’ I say. ‘I’m going to be sad to leave in a week or so.’

‘You’re not staying? I thought you’d bought the place.’

‘That’s Rosie, my sister. I’m just here for a few weeks, taking a break before I head back down to London.’

‘Ah, that’s a shame. It’s nice to have some new blood in the village. Gives us all someone to gossip about.’

I look a little startled.

‘Don’t worry, most of the village are talking about Alexis, but that’s because you girls have been keeping yourselves to yourselves. That is until now. Now we’ll be talking about your doggy style.’

I look even more startled.

‘You know, your downward-facing dog,’ she giggles a little huskily. ‘I’m only joking. Besides, I’ve taken a hairdresser’s oath, you know; I don’t discuss other people’s gossip.’

She winks and I don’t believe her for a second.

‘So, I must run, I’ve got a hot date tonight. But hopefully I’ll see you at the barn dance.’

‘Did someone say barn dance?’ says Liz, butting into the conversation.