Willow Cottage – Part Three: A Spring Affair

Chapter Twenty-Four

Petra was being attentive during Beth’s lunchtime shift and she figured that she must have spoken to Jack. When it was time to go, Beth was zipping up her coat when Petra came over to her. ‘Are you sure you are okay? I am a little worried,’ she said.

‘I’m fine, honest.’

‘Good. Then I won’t ask again. What is the next project at the cottage?’

‘Oh, decorating mainly but at some stage I need to tackle the stairs. They are missing a few spindles and that sort of craftsmanship is expensive so I’m not sure what I’ll do with them. But I’ll think of something.’

‘What about a night class? They do them at the college. I can have Leo and you can borrow my moped. All you need to do now is find one that gives you these skills. Okay?’

It made Beth smile at how quickly Petra seemed to solve her problem. ‘Okay, I’ll look into it.’

‘Good, you must do this.’ Petra squeezed her arm for emphasis. Beth couldn’t help but be touched by her support. The feeling that someone local had become a friend and was keen to offer suggestions to help her achieve her goal was heartwarming and despite everything else that was going on it made her feel calm.

Back at the cottage over a well-earned cup of tea Beth found herself searching the internet on her phone for carpentry courses. By the time she had reached the bottom of her mug she had found a local wood-turning course that ran one evening a week and was suitable for beginners. There was even a possibility that she was eligible for the concessionary price. Beth decided to join Petra on the school pick-up run to check that she really did mean it about the pink moped. Beth hadn’t ridden since university but her motorbike licence was still good and Petra said she’d let her know about insurance costs.

Beth and Petra were chatting as they passed Jack’s cottage and heard Doris’s plaintive whines and barks. Beth felt a twinge of guilt. Leo unexpectedly shoved his mother in the ribs. ‘That’s your fault, she’s shut in a cage! You’ve made her sad and I hate you!’ he shouted before running off. Petra looked sympathetic but Beth didn’t have time to comment as Leo was running at full pelt towards the road. He stopped as he reached the edge of the pavement, giving Beth time to catch up with him and escort him across.

‘Leo, we don’t push people around however cross we get.’

‘I don’t care!’ he shouted and he ran off once more, this time across the green towards the cottage. Beth rubbed her side. He had pushed into her with some force but it wasn’t that that was hurting. It was the fact that he thought it was acceptable to treat his mother that way. One more thing to loathe Nick for, she thought. She hated to see Leo upset like this; he and Doris were unfortunate victims of her self-imposed ban on Jack. She knew she was doing the right thing; she had to protect Leo, but that didn’t stop her feeling guilty for being the cause of his distress, and for that matter Doris’s.

In between arguments with Leo, Beth managed to make a phone call to the college and enrol herself on the wood-turning course. It was a brief interlude in an otherwise dreadful evening where Leo stropped about ignoring his mother while she repeatedly explained to him the importance of respecting other people.

Breakfast was frosty both inside the cottage and out. Leo’s jaw was rigid as he glowered at his porridge. Beth couldn’t help but worry about what else Leo had vicariously picked up from their time with Nick.

The walk to school was brisk, as Leo appeared keen to get away from his mother, and Denis was almost running to keep up. They were through the gates before she had a chance to say goodbye and she knew there would definitely be no backward glance from Leo today. She watched for a moment to check that he went inside and saw Jack greet Leo at the door. Leo threw himself at Jack and although the situation was awkward there was little Jack could do but let the child cling to him. All reason left Beth as she stormed across the tarmac.

‘Get away from my son!’ she said firmly in hushed tones so as not to create a scene as she tried to pull a now sobbing Leo away from Jack.

Jack put his hands up in surrender. ‘He’s upset but it’s nothing I’ve done.’

‘You fell out and now Doris is sad!’ shouted Leo as he twisted to address both the adults in turn. He rubbed roughly at his teary eyes with his coat sleeve.

‘Did we fall out?’ asked Jack.

‘Irrelevant,’ said Beth to Jack before crouching down to Leo’s level. ‘Doris is fine, isn’t she, Jack?’ Her expression willing him to reassure the child.

‘Er, oh, yeah. You know what she’s like, Leo. She sleeps most of the time.’

‘But we heard her crying yesterday,’ said Leo, his bottom lip pushed out, reminding Beth of when he was a toddler.

‘Well, yesterday was different as I was out all day but I’ll take her for a walk at lunchtime. Do you want to come?’

‘Yeah!’ squealed Leo, immediately brightening as his mother tried to control the fear and anger that was instantly coursing through her veins.

‘No, I’m sorry, Leo. You have to stay on school premises at lunchtime. Doesn’t he, Jack?’ The look that accompanied the sentence was instruction enough.

‘Oh, yeah. Silly me. No, you can’t come but I’ll tell you how she is and I promise you she’ll be fine. Okay?’

Leo nodded glumly as he pulled himself free from his mother’s grasp and sulked off into the school, dragging his rucksack behind him. The adults watched him go and Beth’s heart melted for her son. When he was out of sight, Jack ran his hand through his hair and gave a self-deprecating smile. ‘That was a bit tricky. I didn’t—’

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing hugging my child and then inviting him out of school?’ Beth felt the emotion catch in her throat and she fought hard to stay in control. The last thing she wanted to do right now was cry but the mixture of suppressed anger and unhappiness was a volatile cocktail. How had everything turned so suddenly from picture perfect to an utter nightmare?

‘Wow! Slow down with the accusations. That is not what happened and you know it.’

‘Stay away from my child or I will report you, Jack. I’m not the pushover you think I am.’

As Jack stood looking bewildered and confused in the doorway, Beth walked away, struggling to see as the hot tears blurred her vision.

Beth had a horrid day. She spent most of it replaying the scene at the school and going over and over what exactly had been said and whether she should speak to the head teacher. She had finally resolved that whatever Jack had done in the past he was now holding down a responsible job and she knew the support he provided to the school was invaluable. She decided instead to make it clear that if she had any cause to feel that Leo was threatened then she would be shouting it from the highest point in the village, which was most likely the Bleeding Bear pub sign.

She was very glad to leave a sulking Leo at the pub, don Petra’s helmet and escape to her first evening class. She took with her one of the broken stair-rail spindles so that she would have a template to make replicas, and popped this inside her coat. Beth had memorized the best route and knew that, even on the ancient moped, it should only take about twenty-five minutes to get to the adult education centre where the classes were being held.

January rain lashed at Beth for most of the journey and she felt vulnerable as a large lorry had overtaken her only leaving a narrow corridor of space between her and its thundering wheels. As she arrived at the centre a small sign pointed her into the car park and an allocated area for motorbikes. She parked the small pink moped between two large motorbikes, locked it up and jogged over to the steps that led to the entrance and provided some cover. A quick look at her watch showed that she had made good time and was a little early.

Beth was about to take off her helmet when a familiar figure came striding towards her. Her heart pounded in her chest and she found she was clenching her fists and gripping the spindle tightly. What the hell was Jack doing following her here? She started to struggle with the strap in her haste to take the helmet off quickly but even as she struggled she realized although Jack was heading towards her he was looking straight past her. She followed his gaze inside as he strode by without even a glance. Beth stood still for a moment and found she could undo the helmet strap in one easy movement if she wasn’t panicking.

Keeping her helmet on, she followed Jack inside, keeping a safe distance back, and discreetly picked up a leaflet as she went by the stand so that she could pretend to read that if he looked round. He turned a corner and then bounded up a staircase two at a time. As she reached the top of the stairs there was no sign of him and her helmet had almost completely steamed up. She stood, looking along the corridor, wondering if she should take her spying mission any further as curiosity nibbled at her conscience.

‘Oh, my word. You gave me a start!’ squealed an older lady in a very shiny blouse. She peered a bit closer at the tinted helmet. ‘Are you all right?’ she said slowly as if Beth was deranged. Beth had a quick glance down the corridor to check there was still no sign of Jack before she removed the helmet.

‘Yes, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jump. I was following someone …’

The woman gave her an old-fashioned look. Rumbled, she thought.

‘I thought they might be going to the same class. What classes are up here? IT?’ she ventured. It was most likely that Jack was running a course rather than attending one.

‘Oh, no classes on this floor, it’s all local meeting groups. What class are you here for?’

Bugger, thought Beth. ‘Wood-turning.’

The woman looked taken aback. ‘Then you need to be in the workroom outside. Come with me.’

‘Don’t I need to sign in or something?’ Beth strained a last look up the corridor as the woman put out an arm to guide her back downstairs. She gave in as her shoulders sagged and she trudged after the woman, leaving a trail of drips off her coat as she went.

The workroom was very tidy with a series of low benches on one side of the room and six workstations on the other side. Each station had a wall of tools all very neatly hung up. Two men were already seated at the front bench so she went to the one behind and sat down. They stopped talking as she approached and smiled kindly at her. Beth was introducing herself as someone marched into the room, creating a draught. The larger-than-life figure put her in mind of a ginger and slightly less hairy version of Hagrid from Harry Potter. He marched to the front of the class and clapped his hands astonishingly loudly. Beth instantly wanted to clap her hands together to see if she could get the volume anywhere near close. She sat on them instead to stop herself.

‘Hello, hello, welcome, welcome. New recruits and old favourites,’ he bellowed as he waved to two more men entering the room behind her. He was a bear of a man with a voice to match. Despite his size and volume Beth found she quickly warmed to Tollek, who explained that he was originally from Norway but had fallen in love at university in Bath and had stayed, despite having his heart broken. Beth found herself doing a head tilt at the romantic story and then, noticing that nobody else looked remotely interested, she sat up a bit straighter.

As she had suspected she was the only woman in the group with five men. Her bench partner was a homemade-jumper-wearing fifty-something called Ray who made lots of notes. The first half of the lesson whizzed by as Tollek provided a brief history of the craft of wood-turning and explained his own qualifications, which included coming from a long line of woodcraft devotees in Norway. He also ran through the course syllabus and placed a lot of importance on health and safety and the rules of the workroom. Beth eyed the machinery with longing. She really wanted to have a go.

‘Enough of me. Let’s have a break for coffee and a bit of socializing and then we will acquaint ourselves with the lathe,’ said Tollek with another handclap, which Beth was sure had set off a mild case of tinnitus. Ray scuttled round the bench to join the other men and Beth found herself following behind all the way to the refectory like a lost sheep.

She was rummaging in her purse for change when she heard Jack’s voice and forced herself to remain still and with her head down. She slowly turned to watch him leaving the break area with a young man. They stopped to chat outside the gents’ toilets and when the young man went into the toilets Jack walked away towards the stairs.

Beth pulled a receipt from her purse and prepared herself. As the young man came out she pounced.

‘Hi, sorry. The man you were with dropped something.’ She waved the receipt in front of him vaguely and he was momentarily distracted like a cat with a feather. ‘Which class is he in?’ She was desperately keen to know what Jack was doing here. It was none of her business but simple curiosity was getting the better of her.

The man reached out his hand. ‘I’ll give it to him if you like?’

That was the obvious thing to offer, she really hadn’t thought this through.

‘Oh, okay,’ she handed over the receipt. ‘Is it good? The class or meeting you’re going to, because I wondered if I might switch.’

He was frowning deeply now as he shoved the receipt into his pocket. ‘Sorry, it’s not a course. Look, I’d better go or I’ll be late.’

‘Oh, of course, yes. Enjoy yourself,’ said Beth, feeling like a total idiot. Was he shaking his head as he went up the stairs? She wouldn’t have blamed him. She sloped back into the break area, got herself a tea from the machine and went to read the noticeboard. There was a brochure of all the courses and she sprang on it, took it to a nearby table and started to look through it. Each course also had details of the room and floor it was on. The men from her course got up and left. She checked her watch: time to go back. A woman was wiping down the tables and Beth sidled back in.

‘Excuse me. Do you know which groups are meeting on the first floor tonight?’ It was a long shot.

‘Er, Tuesday, is it?’ said the woman and Beth nodded. ‘Knit and natter – actually no, that’s moved to a Thursday. Adult dyslexia support and domestic violence support,’ she said and then carried on wiping.

Beth knew she was frowning. Either Jack was dyslexic or there was something very sinister going on that he was attending a domestic violence support group. Beth wandered back to her class and sat at her bench and tried hard to listen to Tollek but her mind was distracted by what she’d just discovered and the uneasy feeling that was breeding in her gut.

After a lengthy discussion about tools and sharpening and a quick refresh of the health and safety they all moved over to the machine side of the room. Tollek ran them through the basic principles of the lathe, put on a safety mask and did a demonstration. Beth forgot about Jack for a while, watching Tollek intently as he rounded off a piece of wood. The machine had a low purr as Tollek expertly ran the chisel across its surface. Wood shavings curled away from the wood and filled the air with a fresh scent. She watched him cut in to make a specific groove and demonstrate the importance of keeping tools sharp. She was fascinated.

When the students had a go themselves Beth had to stop herself from running to a lathe in her excitement. Tollek came to each of them in turn and checked that their piece of wood was secure and got them started. Beth knew she was grinning as she rested her chisel on the tool rest and felt it make contact with the wood and change the tone of the machine’s purr.

‘Stay firm and smooth with your actions,’ said Tollek. ‘Good start, Beth.’

As she worked the wood her mind drifted back to Jack. Her curiosity was piqued and she wanted to find out more. He was either attending the dyslexic group or the domestic violence support group; she really hoped it was the former even though she hadn’t spotted any signs that had led her to think he might be dyslexic. But just because she hadn’t noticed anything that didn’t mean he wasn’t. Yes, it had to be that. Her foot slipped off the motor pedal and the lathe ground to a halt. She’d lost concentration.

Tollek was soon at her side and got her started again and this time she stared hard at the wood to maintain focus. A few seconds later her mind had wandered off again. If it was the domestic violence group why was he there? Was he scouting for his next victim? She felt a shudder go through her and immediately banished the thought. Surely nobody would be that twisted and surely not Jack, although she knew too well that just because someone was pretty did not mean they were good. Perhaps the support group was for reformed abusers? she thought. But if it was, that was an odd thing to need support for, wasn’t it?

Tollek suggested that they stop working and inspect their handiwork. She was so pleased she almost gave herself a clap. Despite her wandering thoughts she had actually made something that looked pretty good.

When it was time to leave she had visions of replacing every spindle and setting up her own wood-turning business. Everyone was buoyed by the experience and now they were all chatting, the gender barriers had been removed – they were one happy band of novice wood-turners.

As Beth waved her goodbyes she headed for the motorbike parking area and there she spotted Jack. He was on the phone and looking over the pink moped. What was he up to now?

Chapter Twenty-Five

Beth gripped the helmet tightly, pulled back her shoulders and strode over to Jack.

‘Problem?’ she asked.

‘Ah, ignore this message, Petra, Beth has turned up and I think that solves the puzzle. Bye.’ He ended the call and looked apologetically at Beth. ‘Sorry, I recognized the moped and thought someone had stolen it, because I knew Petra was working. But I’m guessing you’ve borrowed it.’

‘Well, I haven’t stolen it if that’s what you’re thinking!’

Jack’s expression was pained. ‘I didn’t think you had.’ He slapped a smile on his face. ‘So are you doing an evening class?’

‘Yes, wood-turning.’ She watched him closely for a reaction.

‘Wow, that’s a real skill.’

‘How about you?’

He looked at the ground. ‘Just a meeting, nothing as much fun as wood-turning. Anyway I’d better get back.’

Beth took a deep breath as he was about to walk away. ‘So are you dyslexic?’

There was a pause as Jack slowly spun back to look at her, his face crumpled in thought. ‘Er, no, why?’

‘In that case it means you must have been at the domestic violence support group.’ Beth stepped forward; she wasn’t sure why but she felt like she was going head to head with him. His facial expression changed rapidly in a few short moments.

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