Page 54 of The Price of Love
Why was it that they all thought they had a say in my life? Did I advise Katie on how to bring up the twins? Give Ash the benefit of my experience of club-drug culture regarding sex and promiscuity? I don’t think so. And yet they’d all given me their own versions of the ditch-the-bastard speech. Everyone had quoted the ‘sunk costs fallacy’ to me, told me that it didn’t matterhowmuch money I’d given him, I should just walk away. But, and I didn’t dare admit it to any of them, there was some tiny part of the back of my head that was listening to everything they said and dismissing it. Okay, so I knew that Luke wasn’t the faithful type, much too good-looking and aware of it, but fidelity wasn’t everything in a relationship, was it? There was trust, and respect and yes, right, I know that trust and respect are difficult if your partner is shagging the length of the street, but there’s affection, too. Luke had explained that as a deserted child he had problems with physical affection, but he could still do sex. And sex is a very important part of any healthy relationship. Just ask someone who isn’t getting any. Katie, come forward.
So, all in all, Luke and I had a lot going for us.
I rolled my head onto a cool part of the pillow — big mistake, because the whole room started rolling, too, and I had to close my eyes to stop it. But, on the plus side, I fell asleep again and woke up at eight feeling only slightly nauseous. Someone was pounding on my bedroom door.
It was Flint. ‘That bloke’s back,’ he said without preamble, sitting on the end of my bed and effectively pinning me down under the covers. At least he wasn’t trying to fart on my head, the intervening twenty-five years having smoothed his social edges somewhat.
‘What bloke?’
‘And I’ve got a letter from the council. Apparently they’re selling off Ganda’s allotment. For building, if you please.’
‘Yes, I did hear something.’
But Flint was off on one. ‘So I thought, what I might do, what I’d reallyliketo do. I’ve been looking for some land to build my own house on, but I didn’t want to go too far out of town. I want to design Modern Urban, do you see?’
I refrained from mentioning that his land was York allotments, not derelict warehouses in inner city Birmingham, but it was obviously Flint’s idea of urban. ‘Sounds like you’ve really thought about it. Excellent. Brilliant idea. Now, for the love of God,what bloke?’
Flint jumped up, his mind once more on steel and chrome. ‘Er. You know. The one that ate all the bread and I had to—’
‘Go to Morrisons in your pyjamas. Yes, I remember. It’s Cal. Where is he “back”?’
‘Downstairs.’ A look of horror crossed Flint’s face. ‘God, I left him alone with the loaf!’ He fled the room while I tried to fix my appearance so that I didn’t look like a vampire porcupine.
* * *
‘Morning.’
I don’t know why it annoyed me that Cal sounded bright and breezy, but it did.
‘Why are you here?’
He raised one eyebrow. ‘Don’t you remember? Last night?’
I decided to try for comedy. ‘What, I didn’t sleep with you, did I?’
‘No,’ he said into my eyes. ‘Youwouldremember.’
Whoa, where didthatcome from? To cover what was quite a large confusion, I started ‘business with kettle and mugs’. Actually, my memories of last night were a bit scattered rather than being absent altogether. I knew I’d rung Luke and called off our date, pleading a sudden onset of flu. I knew that I’d carried on drinking with Cal and Ash after leaving Katie in the bar, that Jazz had gone off to visit Bree, carrying a ridiculous number of fluffy toys (where had he hiddenthosewhen we’d been in the Grape and Sprout?) and, er . . . ‘Humour me.’
‘You’re having the day off and we’re going digging.’
Oh, great. Here I was, feeling as though I’d stubbed my brain, and I was goingwhat? ‘Digging?’
‘You’ll see. Come on.’
An hour later we were up on the moors, parking in the lay-by. The last time I’d been here Luke had parked onthisspot and I’d been happy. No thoughts about other women. ‘Look, I’m wasting both our times here. Let’s go back to town. I really should be at work anyway. It’s not fair on Katie.’
But Cal was ignoring me completely, swearing under his breath as he negotiated the trackway down to the house. The mud had dried in the brief hot spell we were enjoying, but this seemed to make things even harder for him. Instead of slipping and losing his balance, he had to contend with ruts and unexpectedly deep potholes.
‘Cal? Did you hear? I said I ought to be going back.’
Cal turned round, resting against one of the old oak trees that lined the path. ‘They said you’d do this. Katie and Ash and Jazz, they told me you’d try to deny anything was wrong, try to smooth things over. I’m looking on this as saving you from yourself, and I’m rather looking forward to it, if you want the truth. So you might as well shut up and go along with it. Right?’ He crouched down suddenly and pushed aside some undergrowth until the trunk of the tree was revealed. Without its accustomed blanket of brambles and nettles, the bark looked nakedly pale. ‘Here. See?’
Intrigued, despite my misery, I bent down next to him. ‘What is it?’
‘I carved this when I was ten. The tree was a bit smaller then. See, those are my initials, CM. Callum Moore. Bloody nearly cut my finger off doing the M and Mary slapped me sideways when she found out I’d used one of her good silver knives.’
‘I didn’t know your name was Callum Moore.’
