Pastures New (38 page)

Saffron stood nervously outside Ben’s house. It had taken Amy a good hour to persuade her that this was a good idea, but when Amy had played the tape and told her that Pete had heard it, her heart had lifted. Maybe Pete would believe her now. It still didn’t take away the hurt of him not trusting her, but it was a start. And while she had kidded herself over the last couple of months that she was better off without him, she knew in her heart of hearts that it wasn’t true. Christmas had been utterly miserable – her mum had tried her best, but Saffron and the kids had missed Pete horribly and they’d ended up coming home early. And as Christmas had worn away into a cold and grey January, and then on to February, and Pete was still not showing any sign of coming round, Saffron had begun to wonder if this time she’d blown it for good.

But Amy thought not. And that gave her some hope. Having put the kids through the heartbreak of one divorce, Saffron didn’t want them to have to go through another. She turned over the CD in her pocket nervously, wondering if she was going to have the nerve to use it, then took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. It was now or never. Time to see whether there was anything left to salvage from her marriage.

Pete came to the door looking awkward. God, he was so gorgeous. It hit her straight between the eyes. What had she been doing all these months? Sure there were plenty of fish in the sea, but to let this particular one go would be madness.

They stood for a few moments not saying anything.

‘Are you going to invite me in then, or do I have to stay here all night?’

‘Oh, sorry, yes, do come in.’ Pete seemed stiff and formal. Oh dear.

‘I see you tidied up for me,’ said Saffron, trying not to wince as she walked through the lounge. Left to his own devices, Pete had evidently degenerated into the very worst excesses of his youth. Oh dear, oh dear.

‘I thought you’d come to see me, not criticise my housekeeping,’ Pete bristled. Damn. She’d said the wrong thing.

‘J – o – k – e,’ said Saffron, ‘you do remember those?’

‘Yes, you usually make them at my expense.’

‘Woah,’ said Saffron, ‘who rattled your cage?’

‘Nobody rattled my cage, as you put it, I just didn’t find your joke funny.’

‘Oh bloody hell, Pete, where’s your sense of humour?’
Saffron could feel her hackles rising. Bugger, this wasn’t going to plan at all.

‘I clearly don’t have one.’ Pete glared at her, and Saffron glared back.

‘I was coming round here to have a sensible conversation,’ said Saffron, ‘but as you aren’t in the mood, I’ll just go home instead. Ring me when you’re ready to grow up.’

She turned and made for the door, when Pete said, ‘No, don’t, please.’

There was a plaintiveness to his voice that arrested her, and when she turned and saw the pleading look in his eyes, she melted. All the weeks of misery and loneliness vanished in an instant. He wanted and needed her. And she wanted and needed him.

‘All right, you silly old bugger. Just sit down and shut up. Where’s Ben’s CD player?’

‘Over there, why?’

‘You’ll see,’ said Saffron, frantically looking round for anything that might resemble a pole, and spying Ben’s hat stand. She drew the curtains, turned on a lamp, put the CD player on and said, ‘I’m really sorry I lied to you about the pole-dancing thing, but I hope this makes up for it.’

She felt stupidly self-conscious. What had seemed like a good idea in Linda’s basement now seemed ridiculous in the middle of the day, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

Abba started pounding out, and to the dulcet tones of Frida and Agnetha belting out their need for a man after midnight, Saffron started gyrating up and
down the pole. Linda had showed her how to bend her legs up and down in a way that when Linda did it had looked sexy and provocative, but Saffron had always felt it made her look like a prat. But from Pete’s wolf whistle, it didn’t seem as though he minded.

Saffron was getting into her stride now; she remembered that she was supposed to touch herself suggestively with her free hand, while trailing the rest of her body round the hat stand. In a grand ambitious finale, forgetting that the pole wasn’t attached to the ground, she leapt up and attempted to straddle it. She and the pole went tits up, and Pete fell about laughing.

‘That wasn’t quite how it was supposed to go,’ said Saffron, nursing her head.

‘I can see that,’ said Pete, tears streaming down his face.

‘It wasn’t that funny,’ said Saffron.

‘Oh yes, it was,’ Pete replied. ‘But it was also incredibly sexy. Come here, you idiot.’

Saffron went over to him and put her arms around him. ‘Okay, if you repeat after me: I’m really sorry and I promise always to trust you.’

‘I’m really sorry and I promise always to trust you.’

‘And I’m sorry too,’ said Saffron. ‘I’ve been pigheaded.’

‘Yup,’ said Pete, kissing her soundly on the mouth, ‘you have.’

‘You’re not supposed to agree with me,’ said Saffron, resurfacing from a passionate kiss.

‘J – o – k – e,’ said Pete, whose hands were rapidly
beginning to work down her body and remove items of clothing.

‘If you think we’re having a bonk in this pigsty, you’ve got another think coming –’ began Saffron.

‘Oh really,’ said Pete, fingers gently teasing her nipples, ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that.’

‘Oh bugger,’ Saffron replied, as he lowered her onto the sofa (expertly removing an empty can of lager as he did so), ‘I do hate it when you’re right.’

‘Amy, I’m so glad you could come.’ Mary greeted Amy and Josh with open arms. Amy was pleased to see her. After all the turbulence of recent months it was nice and restful to be back here. Mary’s house had always exuded a sense of calm.

‘Granneeee!’ Josh rushed in and threw his arms around Mary, who looked suitably gratified.

‘Hello darling,’ she said. ‘It’s lovely to see you. If you just wait a minute, I may have a treat for you.’

Josh looked questioningly at Amy, who nodded laughing. ‘Go on then,’ she said. ‘It’s not every day we get to have lunch with Granny.’

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ said Mary, ‘but I’ve invited a friend.’

‘Not at all,’ said Amy, ‘I always like meeting your friends. What’s her name?’

Mary looked slightly coy. And, lordy-lord, she was blushing.

‘It’s not a male friend by any chance?’ Amy asked,
laughing. ‘Well you’re a dark horse and no mistake. Go on, give me the lowdown.’

‘His name is Jim and we met last year on that cruise I went on. I think I mentioned him before. We got pretty close and I thought he might be interested in seeing me again, but I never heard from him afterwards. I have to confess I was a little disappointed, but I was determined it wasn’t going to stop me making the most of my life. But then a few months ago, Jim turned up on my doorstep out of the blue. It turned out he’d lost my address and then spent the next six months checking out all the Mary Browns in the phone directory till eventually he found me. And the rest, as they say, is history.’

Mary looked positively pink and girly as she said this. Amy couldn’t help laughing.

‘Well, I think that’s wonderful,’ she said. ‘I thought you were settled on being a widow for the rest of your life.’

Mary shrugged. ‘I had just assumed that I would be, I suppose,’ she said. ‘Jamie’s dad died when I was in my late thirties, and I was so heartbroken I never felt I could replace him. Then, when I wasn’t grieving any longer, I just assumed no one would be interested in a crotchety old woman like me.’

‘Oh Mary, you’re not crotchety,’ said Amy. ‘In fact, you’re not even very old. I’m glad you’ve found Jim, and I can’t wait to meet him.’

Jim turned out to be a very lively sixty-year-old – Mary referred to him as her toyboy – who still worked out and was also a keen gardener. There was more than a little hint of Harry about him, and both Amy and Josh instantly made friends.

As they were leaving, Mary gave Amy a heartfelt hug, and said, ‘You won’t make the same mistake I did, will you?’

Amy stiffened slightly. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said.

‘Oh darling, it’s obvious how unhappy you are. Josh told me all about Ben,’ said Mary. ‘You’re still young and attractive. You deserve to be happy. Don’t let your feelings for Jamie stop you. I’m sure he would have understood.’

‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ said Amy, blinking back the tears. ‘If I knew where Ben was it would help.’

Saffron came downstairs feeling a self-satisfied after-sex glow. Since Pete had come home they had been at it like bunny rabbits. Pete was already downstairs getting the children’s breakfast, and had insisted she stay in bed a little longer.

She grinned at him, and was rewarded with a long, lazy, ‘later’kind of look. She couldn’t believe how happy she was, or how close she and Pete had come to losing each other. She shivered. It was corny to think it, but a love like theirs didn’t come along every day of the week. She had been incredibly foolish to put their relationship to the test like that – if it hadn’t been for Amy she might have lost Pete altogether.

‘Have you emailed Ben about Harry’s ashes yet?’ she asked.

Amy had been round the previous day and told them
that Harry’s friends on the allotments had planned a little ceremony according to his wishes, on Mavis’s birthday, which was in two weeks. He wanted it at sunset, and had asked a friend from his regiment to play the Last Post.

‘Lord, there won’t be a dry eye on the allotments,’ Saffron had said when Amy told her, ‘that always gets me.’

‘Me too,’ Amy had agreed, ‘I am so not looking forward to it, but it’s what Harry wanted.’ She’d paused, and then said, ‘So can you let Ben know – I presume he’ll want to come.’

‘I thought I gave you his email address,’ Pete had asked.

‘You did,’ said Amy, looking shamefaced. ‘I haven’t had the nerve to send him an email. If he’d wanted to get in touch, he would have by now.’

Saffron and Pete had exchanged glances – Ben and Amy were even more stubborn than they were.

‘It’s time we did something about them, don’t you think?’ Saffron had said once Amy was gone.

‘Look, just because we’ve got ourselves sorted doesn’t mean we should interfere in other people’s love lives,’ Pete protested.

‘Oh doesn’t it?’ Saffron asked. ‘If it wasn’t for Amy, you would still be living in squalor at Ben’s. I think we owe her, don’t you?’

So Pete had promised to send Ben an email, which miraculously he had apparently done – Saffron had always had to nag him about that kind of thing.

After breakfast, Pete repaired to the study to check his emails.

‘Hey, come and look at this,’ he called to Saffron. ‘I think perhaps you were right.’

To: peteandsaff@bt. internet.com

From: [email protected]

Subject: Harry’s Ashes

Amy lay in bed, listening to Mark Radcliffe. She had done the same thing pretty much every night since Ben had been away. In a stupid way she felt as though they were still connected through the show.

As she was dozing off she heard Mark say, ‘Now it’s time for the Crucial Three. Tonight’s songs have been sent in by Ben Martin, a doctor who’s out in Thailand. If you can work out the connection, just email me and let me know.’

Amy sat bolt upright in bed as Debbie Harry started to sing ‘(I’m Always Touched by Your) Presence, Dear’. What on earth was Ben up to? Was he really sending her a message?

His next choice, ‘What Do I Get?’ by the Buzzcocks, had her completely baffled until Mark Radcliffe mentioned it came from the album
Another Music in
a Different Kitchen
. By now, Amy was beginning to see
where this was heading, but the Bauhaus song ‘She’s in Parties’ clinched it.

Amy raced to her computer and sent the fastest email she’d ever written. God, she hoped no one else had got it too.

‘Well, I don’t think we’ve had a Crucial Three discovered in such a record time,’ Mark Radcliffe was saying, ‘but Amy Nicolson in Nevermorewell, Suffolk, you’re absolutely right, the connection is “You’ll Always Find Me in the Kitchen at Parties”.’

Amy went to sleep for the first time in months with a smile on her face.

On the other side of the world, a few hours later, Ben woke up, and did the same.

The sun was dipping low on the horizon as a steady trickle of people made their way onto the allotments. Amy walked nervously out of her door, holding Josh’s hand. Ben was back. Saffron had told her. He had arrived late the previous evening and Amy hadn’t had the nerve to contact him. In the cold light of day a game on a radio show didn’t seem much of a love letter. She had read too much into it. He probably wasn’t thinking about her at all.

Saying hello to various allotmenteers of her acquaintance, Amy hurried over to where Saffron and Pete were standing solemnly by Harry’s hut. One of Harry’s army friends was holding a bugle. Where was Ben? She craned her neck to look for him.

‘It’s all right, he’s on his way,’ whispered Saffron. ‘He said he had one or two things to sort out.’

And then there he was, striding up the path with Meg, looking fit and bronzed, and, well – amazing. Amy’s heart did a sudden leap, in fact it leapt so high she had the weirdest sensation it was jumping straight up her throat and choking her. Ben looked fabulous. He glanced over at her, and she smiled shyly back at him. She was pleased to see her smile acknowledged with a grin. Maybe all was not lost.

Ben cleared his throat. ‘Hello everyone,’ he said. ‘And thanks so much for coming. As you all know, today is Mavis’s birthday. And it was Harry’s dearest wish for his ashes to be scattered today on the allotments in memory of her. I have very strict instructions that no one is to cry, we are all to be happy for what Harry told me was a long and happy life, and then we are to proceed as swiftly as possible to Saffron and Pete’s gaff. I think they’ve still got a supply of Harry’s elderberry wine, if anyone’s interested.’ A ripple of amused laughter went round the crowd.

‘Typical of Harry not to want a fuss,’ Bud muttered behind Amy.

‘However, I am going to break ranks a little,’ continued Ben, ‘because I think the fact that so many of us have come out today to remember Harry reflects how much of an impact he made on so many of our lives, and though we are sad he is gone, none of us can be sorry that we knew him –’ he paused and looked at Amy, a deep penetrating look that made her blush and turn away ‘– and I for one take great comfort from
that. Also, I know Harry himself was very grateful for his life, and for the time he had allotted to him. So many of his young friends died in the war, and many times Harry told me how lucky he was. So with that in mind, I thought the following verse appropriate:

Ben’s last words died away to a sombre but rich silence, while everyone took a moment to reflect on Harry’s life. Then Ben carefully passed the urn holding Harry’s ashes round, and everyone took a handful, before scattering them over Harry’s allotment.

Amy wiped away tears, but they were glad tears – Harry was gone and she still missed him badly, but she knew now that he and Ben were right. Everyone had a time allotted to them, and Harry had had longer than most. There would always be a gap in her life from where he had gone, and another where Jamie should have been. But sometimes someone can step into a gap.

Harry’s friend took out his bugle and played the mournful, haunting Last Post. Everyone stood in silence as the sun dipped down below the horizon, and the last ashes of Harry blew away, scattered now in peace in the place he loved the best.

Then, one by one, they slowly walked away, up the path towards Saffron and Pete’s swapping anecdotes
about Harry, their friend, their neighbour, gone, but never forgotten.