Page 72 of The Day Shelley Woodhouse Woke Up
My instinct is telling me where to go and I don’t want to lose sight of it. ‘Left again, just here.’
She looks across at me and I know that she knows where I’m leading her. We take a right and then a final left, and then I tell her to slow down.
‘Here,’ I say, pointing at a small, ordinary-looking house.
Dee pulls over, and we both look out of the window at the house. It has a green front door and shutters on the downstairswindows. The recycling bin is out, ready to be collected. In many ways, it’s like every other house on this street. But it’s also not.
‘This is where I live,’ I say.
I look at Dee and she has tears in her eyes. ‘Yes.’
But I didn’t really need her to confirm it, because I know. I stare at the front door, as if waiting for someone to come out of it.
‘Do you want to go in?’ Dee asks.
I shake my head quickly. ‘No, not yet.’
I don’t know how to tell her that it’s scary, feeling so out of control in your own life. Feeling like it’s a game you’ve been playing and you’re trying to remember what the rules were.
‘Back to mine, then?’
‘Can we make one more stop?’
‘Anywhere you like.’
When she pulls into the car park of the Pheasant, the familiarity of the place really hits. I know exactly what angle she needs to turn at to get into the corner space, and so does she, because she reverses in expertly.
‘Are we going inside? Or did you just want to see it?’
I take a deep breath. ‘We’re going inside. Just for a minute.’
We unclip our seatbelts and get out of the car. For a moment, I just stand there, not quite ready to go in, and Dee takes the lead from me. Just waits. I notice that the outdoor tables and chairs are new, and the car park that used to be gravel has been tarmacked. Slowly, we make our way to the door which is looking a bit neglected, the black paint a bit chipped here and there. I push it open and go inside, and the warmth and noise of the place is like a wall and it’s like going back in time. Derek’s sitting at the bar and he turns the way he always does when someone comes in. Like a cat keeping watch of his territory.
‘Shelley,’ he says. ‘It’s good to see you up and about again.’
And then, when he spots Dee behind me, he speaks to her. ‘The Stella’s off, you know. I’m on Carling. If I have to have another pint of it, I’ll be going to the Three Kings.’
‘You’ll never go to the Three Kings,’ Dee says. ‘Not after last time, when they let someone else sit on your stool.’
So Dee still works here. I’m piecing things together, bit by bit. There’s a young guy behind the bar who looks like he could break hearts as a hobby. He’s got this dark hair that falls in his eyes, and when he brushes it away, his eyes are a glorious green.
‘Hey boss,’ he says, holding up one hand in a wave. ‘I thought we weren’t going to be seeing you today.’
‘Change of plan,’ Dee says. ‘But I’m not staying, so don’t expect me to start serving. Why’s the Stella off?’
The man rolls his eyes and nods towards Derek. ‘It’s only five minutes since he told me. I’m waiting for a quiet moment to go down and change it.’
I am standing next to Dee on the wrong side of the bar we’ve spent so many nights behind.
‘This is your place now.’ I feel like things are slotting into place, like I almost have the full picture.
She nods in confirmation. ‘When you left, I moaned so much about having to get used to a new manager that you and Liam talked me into it. Turns out I’d picked up pretty much everything I needed to know from you over the years.’
It makes sense, Dee being the landlady. And it’s a relief, too, to know that I didn’t totally let go of this place that I love. That there’s still someone familiar here.
‘Do you live upstairs?’ I ask.
Dee laughs. ‘No. We did for a while but we moved out when I was pregnant with Callum. It didn’t seem like the right place to raise a family. It’s rented out now. So, what do you think? Are we sticking around for a drink or going home? I don’t want to get introuble with your doctors for taking you straight from hospital to the pub.’
