“Plus, there are things I need to sort out.” Flick returned her attention back to her mother. “Like the situation with Matthew. Whether that means a divorce or an annulment, I have to do something. You said it yourself, I need to move on with my life.”
“And when you get your divorce or annulment, then what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll start painting again.” She watched her mum sigh, as if resigning herself to the fact that Flick wasn’t going to change her mind about selling.
“At least that’s something.”
A banging on the front door interrupted their conversation. “Oh no. What time is it?” Flick looked at her watch. “That’ll be Pete coming to collect the sofa. I can’t believe I forgot.” She pulled her dressing gown tight across her chest as she made her way out to let him in. Opening the door, she suddenly found herself speechless.
“Isn’t she a beaut?” Pete’s chest swelled with pride as he turned to admire his new car.
“She’s certainly something.” Flick’s eyes fixed firmly on the vehicle parked in front of her. She recognised it as the hearse from outside Julia’s house on the night of the soirée. Having made the decision not to enquire at the time, she hadn’t been the only one who’d failed to mention it, which is why in the end she’d put its presence down to pure coincidence.
“The repatriation business is a bit slow at the moment,” Pete said, his attention back to Flick. “Which is why I’m now seeing it as a multipurpose vehicle.”
“Repatriation?”
“Oh, yes. Didn’t Jess tell you? It’s my new venture.” His pluming continued. “To be honest, I’m surprised no one’s already doing it. I mean how many expats are there out here? But hey ho, I suppose that means more business for me.”
Flick smiled. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that rather than a gap in the market, a lack of service provision could indicate there wasn’t a market to begin with.
“Anyway, until things pick up, there’s no point having this little lady sat around doing nothing.”
Little, thought Flick. The damn thing was humongous.
“So here we are.” Back to business, he looked over her shoulder. “That’s what you want moving, is it?”
Flick followed his gaze to the dusty brown sofa. With its once-comfortable seats resembling giant used teabags, and its former plush velvety fabric all worn and threadbare, she supposed making its final journey in a hearse was quite apt considering the state of it.
She spotted her mum appearing at the far end of the hallway.
“Don’t leave the poor man at the door,” Brenda called out, just as quickly disappearing again. “Bring him in, I’ve put the kettle on.”
Pete rubbed his hands together. “Don’t mind if I do, seeing as we’re still waiting for reinforcements.”
“Reinforcements?” Flick asked, as if she didn’t feel self-conscious enough in her current attire. If she’d known this was going to be a party, she’d have showered and dressed before coming down stairs.
“It’s a two-man job,” Pete said. “I haven’t got a coffin trolley yet, you see. I’ll need help loading it in.”
Flick almost laughed as images of the old sofa being solemnly stretchered out and into the back of Pete’s hearse flitted through her head.
“And I didn’t want to presume you’d be happy to help. If you’re anything like Jess…” He lowered his voice as if not wanting to offend his car. “You won’t want to go anywhere near her.”
As Flick stood aside to let Pete in, she continued to stifle her amusement. “Straight ahead,” she said, indicating down the hall to the kitchen. The man might not have much by way of business sense, she silently giggled, but at least he was considerate. She took another look at the hearse.To everyone and everything.
17
Nate suddenly awoke and shot up into a sitting position. He grabbed his phone off the bedside table and checked the time. “No!” he said, unable to believe he’d slept in.
As he jumped out of bed, he could have sworn he’d set his alarm. Then again, had he? He’d been so wrapped up in his dilemma with Brenda, he couldn’t actually remember. Nate cursed to himself.Of all the mornings to be running late, why did it have to be this one?
He quickly threw on some clothes and headed to the bathroom to sluice his face with water and give his teeth a cursory brush. He’d have to sort himself out properly once he’d got this morning out of the way. As he raced downstairs, Rufus was already bouncing up and down at the door, his accompanying yap telling Nate that he wasn’t the only one that needed to go out. “Okay, okay,” he said, reaching for the dog’s lead. “We’re going.”
He made his way through the woods and as Rufus darted this way and that way ahead of him, the Jack Russell’s excitable movement caused Nate’s head to spin. Despite waking up with a start, he still wasn’t ready to join the land of the living. Over the last couple of years, his mind and body had gotten used to a more gradual approach to the day, one that involved leisurely sipping on a coffee as he looked out onto the lake. This had to be followed by a second cup and then a third, taking the latter out to his studio to drink as he organised his tools ready for work. Still, he reassured himself, after such a rude awakening, the day could only get better.
At least he hoped it could only get better.
Since moving to France he’d forged a new life for himself; a life that once again felt in jeopardy thanks to Brenda. He let out a dry laugh as he pictured her. She didn’t look like a blackmailer. But then again, who did? He supposed he could call her bluff and refuse her request, however, the ensuing chaos that’d result wouldn’t just affect him. Aunt Julia and his friends would experience the fallout too. And was this a risk he was prepared to take? He wasn’t sure. He could disappear, he considered. Quietly pack his bags and head off into the sunset. That would certainly foil Brenda’s plan. But where would he go? And how long before he’d be forced into moving on again? “Thanks, Mum,” he said, wondering if he’d ever truly be free of her.
