The Love Solution Page 10

  She mumbled, ‘Ha ha.’

  ‘Anyone would think you’d been avoiding me. You haven’t replied to my texts or emails.’

  ‘Noooo. I’ve had my head down in the lab all morning, slaving over a hot Western blot, haven’t I, Ewan?’

  ‘Allegedly,’ said Ewan. Molly was sure his shoulders were shaking. The git was obviously enjoying watching her suffer.

  ‘Well, whatever, I do need to speak to you in case there’s been some kind of misunderstanding because when I saw Ewan on my way into work, he seemed surprised when I told him you’d agreed to the tandem ride.’

  ‘Did he?’ She shot Ewan a death look.

  ‘Yes, so I’m here to confirm that I haven’t got the wrong end of the stick. If you can’t do it, can you let me know ASAP because Devi Kumar from epidemiology is very keen although of course, I’d far rather have you behind me, if that doesn’t sound like an innuendo.’

  Ewan appeared to have trouble swallowing his sandwich.

  ‘I … well … I don’t think …’

  ‘Just in case, I’ve devised and printed off a novice’s training regime. It’s tough, I’ll admit, but I know you can do it if you’re prepared to put in the time and effort. It means training together before work most days and at the weekends. I’ll need you to commit to the programme one hundred per cent, if you’re going to do it.’

  ‘I don’t think I can …’

  ‘Of course you can. Banish those negative thoughts. I’ll send you some links to a sports psychologist’s site.’

  She squirmed. ‘Thanks, but I don’t think even a psychologist could work that kind of miracle. I like cycling but I’m really not up to your standard, Pete.’

  ‘What Molly’s trying to say, very badly, is that she would have loved to have joined you if she hadn’t already agreed to do the ride with me,’ said Ewan.

  Molly’s mouth fell open like a trapdoor.

  ‘You?’ she and Pete said in unison.

  ‘Yes, I asked her a while ago and in fact, she’d agreed when we were in the pub,’ Ewan said firmly. ‘I know she probably doesn’t want to do it and feels she has to because I’m her boss and she’s squirming now because I’m here and she doesn’t know how to wriggle out of it …’ He laughed at his own joke. ‘And I’m sure she’d much rather do it with you …’

  ‘No!’

  Pete glared at her.

  ‘Over to you, Molly,’ said Ewan.

  ‘Well, this is awkward, Pete, but Ewan’s right. He did ask me first and I hate to let anyone down. And he’s as rubbish at me at tandem riding so it’s far better if the two of us are crap together, isn’t it, Ewan?’

  Pete smirked. It was obvious he was enjoying the idea that Ewan was crap at something.

  ‘And I know how desperate he is to do the ride. It is in aid of the new children’s genetic screening unit, after all.’

  Ewan, to give him credit, managed a cool smile. ‘I wouldn’t say desperate, exactly …’

  She batted him playfully on the arm. ‘Oh, come on, Ewan, you know how keen you are and it’s for such a worthy cause.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true.’

  ‘Guess what, Pete?’ she chirped up. ‘He’s even managed to get hold of a top-of-the-range tandem especially for the event, haven’t you, Ewan?’

  Pete blew out a breath. ‘Awesome. What make is it?’

  ‘Um. I’m not sure. It’s been custom made by a friend of mine,’ said Ewan. ‘So you don’t mind, Pete?’

  ‘If you have first dibs on Molly, so to speak … But I’d no idea you were interested. In the tandem ride, that is.’

  Ewan did a Scout salute. ‘First dibs. Yes.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said Molly, still trying to process Ewan offering to do the tandem challenge with her. Was he jealous of Pete Garrick? Was he being kind in “rescuing” her – or just very cruel?

  ‘Well,’ said Pete, a little huffily. ‘It’s probably for the best. I was willing to train Molly up but Devi has a lot of tandem experience. Are you an experienced tandem pilot, Ewan?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say experienced but I’m sure we can rub along well enough, can’t we, Molly? After all, it is in a very good cause.’

  Molly smiled, homing in on all that “rubbing along”. ‘Very … um, how far did you say it was again?’

  Pete grinned. ‘Only seventy-five miles.’

  ‘Seventy-five miles?’ She felt faint.

  ‘Yes. Just a little jaunt if you know what you’re doing.’ Pete rubbed his hands together in delight. ‘I expect the charity thought they’d have to make it an easy challenge to attract more entries from amateurs. I could email you the training schedule and some tips.’

  ‘Thanks. You do that,’ said Ewan.

  ‘I’ll do it tonight after my gym session. Meanwhile I’d better leave you two to it,’ Pete said, smirking at her Pot Noodle and the baguette crumbs on the ground. ‘I can see you’re already doing some serious carb loading. I’ll send a detailed training and nutrition schedule and doubtless, I’ll see you both out on the roads in the next couple of days.’

  After Pete had oozed off, she dumped the remains of her noodle pot in the bin at the end of the bench. She turned to Ewan in horror. ‘Ewan. Please tell me that I haven’t just had a nightmare in which you committed us to a seventy-five-mile tandem race?’

  His expression was grim. ‘No, you had a dream in which I saved you from a seventy-five-mile tandem race with Pete Garrick. And by the way, where are we going to get this top-of-the-range tandem from?’

  ‘Why, from your specialist friend who custom-makes them. Oh God, have you ever actually been on a tandem?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, clearly affronted. ‘Actually, my uncle and auntie had one, so me and my brother tried it once.’

  ‘Why only once?’

  ‘Because we rode it straight into a ditch full of nettles. We were rubbing cream onto our bruises and rashes for days.’

  Molly watched the sparrows pecking at the breadcrumbs while Ewan took solace in his chocolate muffin. She tried to analyse the pros and cons of doing a tandem cycle challenge with him. It would mean training together, relying on each other, trusting each other … It could end up with them both pedalling off into the sunset … or crashing into a ditch full of nettles … but that would mean they’d have to rub cream on each other. For days. So, on the whole, this was a very good thing, wasn’t it?

  If only it didn’t involve a bloody tandem.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sarah ramped up the heating in the workshop. It was barely above freezing outside and the sky was so grey and heavy, she was sure it would snow by the end of the day. She hoped it wouldn’t put off Liam or any of the other six students attending the Basic Tiara class.

  After laying out a mat, a set of pliers and clippers, and a selection of wires for each student, she prised off the tops of the Tupperware boxes that contained the beads and gems. The beads made a soothing whoosh as she ran her hands through them and the colours never failed to give her a lift, especially on a grey day like this. She’d sorted each box into basic colours: orange, red, purple, and so on, yet each box shimmered with a myriad of hues. That was the hardest part of the class, usually, prising away the students from the boxes. They cooed and swooned over the beads like kids in a sweetie shop. Although she had a feeling Liam wouldn’t be in the mood for cooing and swooning, the familiar act of preparing for the workshop soothed her.

  If only she could afford to keep the cottage and the workshop on her own – or Niall would change his mind about selling. That fantasy was blown away when her mobile rang as she laid out the mugs ready for the workshop coffee break. It was the estate agent, asking her to show a ‘very keen’ buyer round at short notice.

  ‘So soon? I didn’t think it had even been in the local paper yet? Your valuer only came round at the weekend. I haven’t even seen the details.’

  ‘Mr McCafferty approved them,’ said the agent breezily. ‘And we have buyers already on our books
who are desperate for properties like yours. It’s on our website and I don’t think we’ll have any problem securing a quick sale. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr and Mrs Pratt make an offer as soon as they’ve seen it. It’s exactly what they’re looking for.’

  ‘Well, they’ll have to be gone by ten at the latest, because I’ve got a workshop to run.’

  ‘They won’t be late!’ trilled the agent. ‘They’re super keen to see inside.’

  Biting back the urge to scream, Sarah locked up the workshop and went back to the house. She gathered up the soggy tissues from the floor, shoved her dirty breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, wondered if she had time to tidy up her bedroom then thought, Sod it. She already felt knackered from preparing the materials. She really hoped the fatigue would diminish and the “blooming” stage would start, because all the emotional energy and workload were knackering her.

  The one good thing was that Cassandra’s order was well underway. It had already taken her more time than she’d allotted for it, which annoyed her because she knew she was allowing herself to be intimidated by Cassandra. Then again, she often spent more time on commissions than she charged for. She’d tried to make the tiaras look as classy as possible but it was Cassandra’s wedding and Sarah had to look upon it as business. Liam was right in that there was no room for sentiment when it came to making a future for herself and the baby. Besides, while she was intent on her bead-making or teaching, she wasn’t dwelling on Niall’s cruel comments or losing the house.

  She sat down in the lounge, so she could hear the doorbell ring. Mrs and Mrs Pratt were sure to arrive at any moment and the faster she showed them round, the sooner she could get rid of them and finish her prep.

  She woke to the sound of the doorbell ringing continuously.

  ‘Shit …’

  Still groggy from sleep, she dragged herself off the sofa and opened the door. A young couple who both looked about twelve stood on the doorstep.

  ‘This Lilac Cottage?’ the man, grunted. He had streaks of what looked like fake tan on his collar – it was either that or wood stain. The woman was chewing gum furiously.

  ‘Yes, it is. You must be the Pratts?’

  ‘Jez is the Pratt, I’m a Death, and it’s pronounced De’ath before you ask. It’s French,’ said the woman. ‘And this place looks a lot smaller than on the Internet, doesn’t it, Jez?’ She popped a huge gum bubble.

  Jez stroked her arm soothingly like she was a pet chinchilla. ‘Well, we may as well take a look at it, Gales, now we’ve come all this way.’

  She popped a bubble. ‘S’pose so.’

  Gritting her teeth, Sarah let them in and led the way half-heartedly round the cottage.

  Jez kept saying everything about the cottage was “awesome” while Gales continued popping away. Sarah led the way into the garden.

  ‘What d’you call that?’ he said, smirking at the workshop. ‘Fancy garden shed?’

  ‘It’s my Tiara Kabin,’ said Sarah icily.

  ‘Right. A kiddies’ play hut.’ Gales blew a huge bubble. ‘We don’t have kids.’

  Thank God for the world, thought Sarah.

  ‘When I’ve pulled that down, the garden will look a lot bigger or I s’pose I could use it for the jet ski once I’ve gutted it,’ Jez muttered.

  Sarah had been about to swear and correct him but something pinged in her mind.

  ‘Well, I might take it with me,’ she said. ‘And it would be no good for kids or a jet ski because it’s going rotten and it would need new felt on the roof.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I shouldn’t really tell you this, but I think we have a rat infestation.’

  Jez screwed up his nose and the fluff on his top lip bristled. ‘Rats? I hate rats. I’m phobic about them. I go all … sweaty.’

  ‘He sweats like a pig if he sees a rat or a mouse,’ said Gales, before popping another piece of gum in her mouth.

  ‘They come from the chicken farm down over the fields and tunnel under the side of the shed. I’m amazed you haven’t seen any yet. Some of them are as big as dogs.’

  ‘Dogs? You’re joking.’ Jez’s forehead was beaded perspiration while Gales’s bubble was so big, Sarah couldn’t see her nose anymore. ‘I think we’d better go inside,’ he muttered.

  ‘It might be best, you never know what diseases rats carry but you won’t let them put you off, will you? It is a nice cottage and you could get the pest control officer in, although I must admit, we’ve had them three times and those pesky rodents just keep coming back … They seem to love it here.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘Oh look, is that a tail I can see twitching behind the shed?’

  Gales’s bubble burst, covering her face in sticky pink goo. Jez was already gone, shooting up the path and through the back door.

  Five minutes later, they left, muttering that they’d ‘let the agents know’.

  Whatever they were going to let the agents know, Sarah suspected it wouldn’t be an offer. She closed the door behind them, a smile on her face at the memory of Gales’s bubble and Jez’s sprint for the back door. It was funny … but if word got back to Niall, he’d soon put the agents straight about the imaginary rats. Not everyone would be as gullible as Jez and Gales, and Sarah couldn’t prevent people putting in an offer at all.

  Maybe, just maybe by putting people off – or reducing the offers they made – she could delay things and give Niall time to change his mind.

  Surely, he’d come to his senses? Maybe she should tell him about the baby? He would have to take responsibility for it, she needed the support and the baby needed a father … and despite everything, she still loved him, no matter how often she told herself she shouldn’t and he wasn’t worth it. Love just didn’t work like that.

  Knowing Liam and the other students would be there very soon, she told herself to get a grip, slicked on some lipstick and brushed her hair. She was just arranging biscuits on a plate for the tea break when Liam poked his head around the door.

  ‘Oh, hello …’ He paused in the doorway of the Kabin. ‘Bugger. I’m not too early, am I?’

  Sarah threw him her best reassuring smile, in case he decided to bolt out of the door. ‘Only twenty minutes or so.’

  He winced. ‘Sorry. I’m usually late for meetings and appointments but I didn’t want to rush this one. As it’s pleasure not business. By the way, you’re not going to throw that mug at me, are you?’

  He was wearing jeans and a dark blue polo shirt that showed off his broad shoulders. He pushed a lock of black hair, tinged with grey, out of his eyes.

  Sarah put the mug down on the worktop. ‘That depends if you’re going to behave in my class.’

  ‘I’ll try, though I warn you I was a bit of a rebel at school.’

  Sarah handed him the worksheets, explaining to Liam that tiara making wasn’t really for beginners so he might have to come back to further classes to complete the project.

  ‘You said the tiara was for your daughter’s wedding?’

  ‘Yes. Hayley’s getting married in a few months’ time. She loved dressing up when she was a little girl and Kerren – my wife – always promised her she could have a princess’s tiara on her wedding day. Obviously Kerren won’t be here to arrange that so I thought I’d do it for her. Not that I could or would ever try to take Kerren’s place, but this is one thing I can do.’

  ‘Hayley’s a lucky girl. She can’t be very old,’ said Sarah.

  ‘She’s twenty-four. Kerren and I married when we were barely nineteen and Kerren was already expecting her,’ said Liam, seeming not to have noticed that Sarah was fishing for info. ‘And she may not think she’s lucky when she sees my tiara …’ Liam’s eyes twinkled.

  ‘She’ll be impressed, I promise. I’ll make sure you do a professional job. I won’t go easy on you.’

  Liam laughed. ‘No, I’ve already experienced your brand of tough love.’

  Sarah covered her face with her hand in embarrassment. ‘Oh, please don’t remind me!’


  Just then two of Sarah’s older regulars bustled in to the Kabin, followed by a teenage girl who almost walked into the closing door because she was scrolling through her mobile. Sarah asked people to turn their phones off during the workshop but it didn’t always work.

  The older women did a double take when they spotted Liam.

  ‘This is the tiara workshop?’ one asked with a sly grin.

  ‘Thought we’d got the wrong date …’ said her friend, flicking back her own hair girlishly. Sarah could see she was going to have trouble here but couldn’t hide her amusement. Liam was younger than either of the ladies by at least a decade.

  ‘No. This is the right date. I’m here for the Basic Tiara class,’ Liam cut in before Sarah could rescue him.

  The women exchanged glances as if a strange but very welcome alien had landed in the middle of the class.

  ‘Hi, I’m Liam,’ he said warmly.

  ‘Pleased to meet, you, Liam. I’m Helen. Do a lot of jewellery workshops, do you?’

  He smiled. ‘Actually, this is my first time so I hope Sarah will be gentle with me.’

  The presence of Liam caused great amusement and intrigue, not to mention a lot of suggestive comments and jokes about George Clooney looking good in a tiara. Sarah thought Liam wasn’t as much of a smoothie as George, and fifteen years younger, but she wasn’t going to make things worse for him, though he seemed to take everything in good part.

  They chatted as they worked, quizzing Liam on his job and whether he was married. Sarah cringed a little at the interrogation he was subject to, but she was also interested to hear his replies. It turned out he lived in a thatched cottage in a village just outside the city. She found out he loved Italian food – no surprise there – had been trying to make his own pasta and went to the gym when he could find time away from running his business, which was something to do with commercial property.

  The chatter died a little as the students got to the trickier bits of the tiara-making process. Sarah was kept busy herself, helping each person with their individual problems, suggesting solutions and offering encouragement. It was a part of her job she loved, and she realised that she hadn’t thought about Niall or the cottage for almost an hour. By the end of the workshop, everyone was high on astonishment at their own creativity and congratulating each other. Liam seemed quietly pleased with his first effort but it wasn’t finished and Sarah, if she was honest, thought it needed more work, or even better, he needed to make a fresh start on a more elaborate project.