It Started With A Tweet(80)

‘Well, there aren’t many occasions to get all dressed up. I mean, the Black Horse doesn’t really have a dress code.’

‘So everyone goes all out?’

‘Oh yes,’ she says, her eyes sparkling. ‘Well, I wear jeans and a shiny top, but I even put make-up on.’

‘Wow,’ I say, stroking my face and wondering when it was that I stopped putting mine on every morning.

‘Hope you’ve got some glad rags with you.’

‘Actually, I do,’ I say, thinking through my unsuitable suitcase full of clothes that I brought with me. ‘Will a tunic dress and leggings do?’

‘Absolutely. To be honest, anything goes, except the usual fleeces and hiking boots. It gets hot and sweaty in here with all those bodies, and the boots aren’t conducive for dancing .?.?.’

‘Good tip.’

‘Well, I must go and start putting the mats away as the bridge club are in at eight. But I’m so glad you came,’ she says rubbing my arm. ‘I’ll see you on Friday.’

‘See you then,’ I say, realising that the room has thinned out now and everyone’s returning their cups and saucers to the table in the centre of the room.

I hover for a minute wondering if I should help Trish, but she looks like she’s got the situation under control and I’d only get in her way. So, instead, I mutter my goodbyes and I go to find Rosie.

She’s sitting on the bench outside the village hall. The tears have stopped, but the melancholy look remains.

‘Don’t worry, sis. It’ll all be fine,’ I say, hoping that my letter in the post will be enough.





Chapter Twenty-Five

Time since last Internet usage: 2 weeks, 5 days, 20 hours, 11 minutes and 9 seconds

I’m not sure if it’s last night’s yoga, the Cumbrian air, or the fact that almost three weeks of physical labour have left me knackered, but I seem to have slept in – again! – this morning. I wake up in a panic and gulp as I see that it’s after 11 a.m.

I know that I’m not being paid to work, and that I’m not on a help-ex arrangement like Alexis, but I don’t want to be a total slob.

I pull myself out of bed, feeling surprisingly supple, as the muscle ache I’ve had over the last few days has gone. Thank you, Trish’s yoga! Hastily, I throw on my old tracksuit bottoms and old misshapen gym T-shirt, which are destined to be splattered with paint over the next few hours, and I scrape my hair into a messy topknot.

Upstairs is eerily quiet, and if Rosie was working in the bathroom, the radio would be booming. I pad downstairs as I can hear voices from the kitchen, and feel instantly relieved that they’re all sitting around and not hard at work – although the relief is short-lived when I spot Jack at the table.

I freeze like a rabbit in headlights and my heart starts to race quicker than a Formula One car.

I wonder if I could creep back upstairs and maybe brush my hair, or at least my teeth, and put on some clothes that don’t look as if I’ve got my wardrobe mixed up with MC Hammer’s.

‘Ah, there you are,’ says Rosie, sliding a mug towards an empty chair and pointing at the teapot in the centre of the table.

Now that it’s too late to escape, I walk slowly towards the table, not wanting to draw any more attention to my baggy trousers than necessary.

‘Jack just came round to deliver us our post. The postman had put it in his box by mistake while he was away and he thought he’d bring it round in case we were waiting for it.’

‘That’s nice of you. When did you get back?’ I try and add an air of casualness to my question, despite already knowing that he was back, as I saw him kissing Jenny.

Jenny.

‘Oh shit,’ I accidentally say out loud. I forgot to go back and delete the other message from her.

‘What’s wrong?’ says Rosie snapping her head round.

‘I spilt my tea,’ I say, grabbing a tea towel and mopping up the non-existent spill on my trousers.

I chance a look at Jack, and he’s giving me a cold stare as if he knows what I did. Even though he doesn’t know for certain that I’m the guilty one. Alexis was there too, for all he knows he did it. Besides, I’m the one who should be cross with him. I may have accidentally deleted an answerphone message, an easy mistake to make, but he accidentally forgot to tell me he had a girlfriend when he was leading me on with his letters and near kisses.

‘Are you feeling all right this morning?’ whispers Rosie, taking back the mug she had passed to me and pouring tea into it.

‘I’m fine,’ I say, trying to smile and reassure her as she slides the mug towards me.

‘I got back yesterday,’ Jack replies holding my gaze. ‘Something urgent came up.’

And we all know what that was, or should I say, who that was.

Rosie picks up a brown envelope that looks suspiciously like it’s come from the planning office, and a postcard falls out from under it.

‘Ah, here’s one for you from Erica,’ says Rosie as she turns it over. I snatch it out of her hands before she gets a chance to read it.



Dear Daisy,

Just a quickie to say I miss you! We’ve got six viewings for the flat lined up for next week, which means I’ve become obsessed with my Rightmove app. I can’t wait to find my dream pad!