As I was pulled away I told Uncle Roger, ‘I mean it, Rog. I’d do it for you.’
Then I hiccupped.
Inebriation so detracts from serious intent.
But I meant it.
And so, I realise now, did he.
Chapter Fifteen
I’m not sure at what point I finally went to bed, but when I woke up I had a serious hangover. It was nine o’clock. Dad and Janet must have risen early but let me sleep on, because when I came down into the kitchen they were sitting round the table with Lettice and Lucy.
For a minute I watched them from the doorway. Dad was pouring Lucy a juice. Lettice must have just said something funny to Janet, because she was looking over smiling. If you didn’t know better you would assume that they were the perfect family. Maybe they were. The thing is, I saw very clearly that morning that they were happy and self-contained.
They didn’t need me.
They never had.
And I knew they would be just fine if I weren’t there at all. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that I was full of self-pity. I could see that they worked. Later I would remember the scene. It would clarify a hard decision I was going to have to make.
It wasn’t long before Lucy spied me and called out my name. ‘You were drunk last night,’ she said, full of childish satisfaction.
‘I was tired,’ I told her, sloping into the kitchen and ruffling her hair. ‘You are way too perceptive for your years, young lady.’
After many cups of coffee and a full English breakfast I finally extricated myself from the household and was on my way by eleven.
Halfway home I had to pull in for petrol. I was close to Manningtree and considered for a minute whether I should detour and scout the town. But at the back of my mind there was a notion that if I mentioned the visit to Felix, he might wish to accompany me – and that was far too tempting to jeopardise. I was seeing him tomorrow in Colchester. I might drop it into conversation.
Instead I filled up the car, bought some mineral water and a damp sandwich and was just about to leave the shop when a glance at the magazine shelf stopped me. A local journal was running a feature on witches. I took it to the till, was offered a bag, said I didn’t need one and headed towards the exit, arms full – and promptly bashed into a large man clad in a black leather jacket. Everything spilled onto the floor.
The big guy dropped to his knees, full of yanky sounding apologies, and helped me scoop them up. It was only when I righted myself that I looked into his face. It was familiar, tanned. He smiled, revealing a set of immaculate white teeth. I couldn’t place him.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘It was my fault.’ He didn’t offer a verbal response, just nodded and looked away. I felt a little bit of an idiot knowing I probably reeked of last night’s fizz so I quickly shuffled out to the car.
Depositing my goods on the back seat, I took out the mineral water. Still not fully compos mentis I opened it and released a fizzy shower of water all over the dash and driving seat. Bugger. I had cleaning stuff in the boot so hopped round and fetched it. As I slammed the boot I saw the man in the leather jacket get into a black BMW on the other side of the forecourt. He settled into his seat, pulled his seatbelt across his chest and then just watched me.
I smiled.
He smiled.
I turned away and dried the car, inwardly cringing, the clumsiest oaf in town.
Within minutes I was on my way again not thinking any more of the encounter, drawn in to the meditative hum of the road. The smooth Essex landscape opened up either side of me – flat green-brown squares of land, fringed with shady spinach-coloured thickets.
Beyond the sunshine autumn was clearly on her way, shading the hedgerows with her amber paint, fleecing the copses of their frayed leaves. The air outside smelt smoky and ripe; the earth was ready for harvest.
An uneventful hour later I pulled into my drive. My back had been aching a little so I stretched my arms up and rubbed my neck. I don’t know what made me look but just as I was about to get out of the car I clocked a black