Friday, 31 January 2014

Trying Not to Love You - Part Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Three

couple.

Her father was like a child, his excitement palpable as he planned the trip away with Eamonn. Martha was concerned, obviously he was still not a hundred percent and she prayed that he didn’t fall ill, fail in what he wanted to do, or felt that he was being a burden on the others travelling with him. But she’d primed Eamonn secretly on as much as she could, and she could do no more.
Sonny was brilliant stepping in to help out at the restaurant, that meant Martha could spend a little bit more time helping her father prepare for his trip.  On Thursday, Martha was working, Sonny had the night off, and her father was packing his bag for his trip. Lucy was supposed to be attending the Women’s Institute, but instead she came into the restaurant, just as they were about to open.
                “Oh Martha, it’s a disaster!”
She rushed over to her Aunt, “what is it?” Helping her on to the stool near the counter, she took her hand. “Are you ok?”
Lucy fanned herself a little, “it’s Nancy!” She named her cousin who lived an hour away. “She’s fallen, hurt her leg. She can barely walk...” Her eyes flashed up to Martha’s, “she’s had the doctor out and refused to go to hospital. So she’s stuck. I said I’d go see her...but there aren’t any trains...”
Her Aunt’s concern was palpable, so she poured her a brandy, “do you want me to drive you there?” She glanced around, it was a busy-ish night, Paul could probably cope for an hour without her but realistically not for the whole evening, she’d rostered the staff with the knowledge that she’d be there.
                “You can’t, you’re too busy.”
Martha was racking her brains, she wanted to help her so much, but her hands were tied with the restaurant, “let me call Sonny, I don’t know where he is.”
He answered on the second ring, “what’s up?”
She sighed, “hmm, where are you?”
                “Gym, just warming down. Do you need me? Suddenly busy?”
                “Could you drive Aunt Lucy to Hayfield? Her cousin’s ill. I’m chock-a-block here, and she’s a bit desperate.”
                “I am not desperate,” Lucy protested.
Sonny hearing that started to laugh, “can I borrow Herman?”

She smiled at Lucy, “he’ll be back at the house in fifteen minutes, once he’s showered he can take you. Do you need a hand packing?”
Lucy shook her head, “no, I’ll be fine. Will you manage without me this weekend? With your Dad being away?”
                “We’ll be fine, you HAVE to go, I can see how upset you are.”
Lucy reached out and squeezed her hand, “Martha you are a good person, you do too much for everyone. You should look after yourself a bit better. Put yourself first more often.”
Martha came around the counter to hug her aunt, “I’m lucky to have had you all those years.”
With a pff at the emotions on display, she played it down, “don’t be stupid, I loved being part of your life. Now, I’ll call you tomorrow. If she’s ok I’ll be home on Saturday, if not it may be a few days more.”
                “Do what you need to. OK?”

It was a busy night, every table was booked, and whilst a really busy night saw the tables filled twice, tonight, everyone seemed to eat, drink and spend a lot of money, not something she could complain about, but something that kept her and Paul running around like idiots.
Aunt Lucy called at nine o’clock to say she was at her cousin’s safely, and Martha was relieved, it was one thing less to worry about. There was no news from Sonny, and more importantly Herman, and she got home and went to bed before there was any sign of him. 

                “So he’s taken the bait?” Sonny rubbed his hands as Johnny nodded. The opportunity to drive away from town meant he could meet up with his friend, and ally for the first time since introducing him to Oldbury.
Grinning he leaned back in his chair, they’d come to an all night cafe and were sat opposite each other at a table in the corner, bacon, egg and chips on order.
                “He’s fuming with Gripper, reckons this has been a long time coming, and after all the stuff that’s happened at your place he’s dreading being implicated in it. Anything that can put distance between him and the idiot is a winner, so I’m climbing the ranks.”
                “You told him about the drop?”
He nodded, “told him that I had a tip off that once a week a van parks up in a lay-by near Whitmore, that the driver abandons it to slope off with his lover. And that it’s full of cash. He asked how I knew, so I told him that his lover has a rich husband who knows that revenge in the form of stealing the cash would cause him to have a greater beating than he could offer with his bare hands.”
                “Nice touch! Bet Oldbury loved that.”
He nodded, “he wants to beat my mate to it, get there earlier and get the prize.”
Sonny smiled, nodding with pleasure, “and then bingo! After the tip of to the Old Bill, I’ll be waiting a half a mile away on a motorbike, as soon as the blue lights start, disable Oldbury and bomb to me.”
Johnny nodded, “we just need to create an alibi for us, just in case, you know. Who knows if Oldbury will blab? He could squeal like a baby.”
                “Expect he will. I’ll get your cash the day before, I’ll head to London next Wednesday, get the money we’re owed, then it’s twenty four hours to show time.” When Johnny smiled, he added, “we need to do a proper talk through later. Maybe over the weekend?”
Johnny nodded, “I’m not doing much. Call me.”


Sonny’s eyes opened in a slow and languorous way, all he could smell was bacon, and coffee, and his stomach lurched in appreciation. This house constantly smelled inviting, and usually of great food. How had he lasted almost thirty years without this sense of satisfaction in his life? He lay there for a moment, listening to Martha singing along with the radio, her clear voice was cutting through the early morning quiet of the house. One of the things he loved about being at the farm was the quiet, the serenity. Everywhere else he’d lived there’d been buses, trucks and innumerable cars trundling past windows, people going to work, coming home from work, all walking past the houses he’d occupied.  Here, there was nothing...but singing.
Sighing he rolled onto his side and looked at the clock, eight. Martha had probably been up for hours, she seemed to survive on less sleep than he did. Rolling up to sitting he gave a luxurious stretch, then pulled on his cotton pyjama bottoms, despite Lucy being away, he knew Martha would be furious if he turned up for breakfast in less.
He froze in the doorway to the kitchen; Carl, Eamonn and Bill were sat together at the kitchen table with mugs of tea and bacon sandwiches, giggling like school kids. Martha was propped against the work surface arms folded shaking her head in wonder at the three of them, she was dressed already, in what he now knew were her work clothes, a sweater and an old pair of jeans.
                “Everything ok out there?”
She nodded to Sonny as the three older men looked up, “all good. Though I’m hoping you’re going to help me out with the chores whilst these three are off gallivanting!”
Their humour was temporarily replaced by guilt until she laughed and then they all realised things were fine.
                “Seriously Martha, everything is fine, other than the odd check there’s nothing to do.” Eamonn was quick to reassure her.
                “I’ve been up at the crack of dawn every morning for I don’t know how long, I can manage to check things over, feed the horses, chickens, turn out the rest. I’ll be fine.”
Sonny strode across the kitchen and poured himself a coffee, “and I’ll help her, I’ve promised you all that.”

As he sat beside the men, Martha proceeded in making him a bacon sandwich too and tried to ignore the affect his beautiful bare chest had on her...EVERY time.

                “Do you want to come to the Cash and Carry with me?” Martha asked an hour later, once the old men had disappeared, “it’s just I’ve got to pick up so much stuff for the party tonight, was hoping you’d give me a hand.”
                “I’ve got to be somewhere at midday, meeting someone. Will we be back by then?”
She nodded, “can be. Cheers.”
As they drove back from the huge warehouse with a back seat full of balloons and streamers, he turned to her, “so you’re ok if I meet you at the restaurant at five to prepare?”
Martha leaned back in the passenger seat and appreciated being driven around, “I’ll be fine, Sam and Claire,” she named two of the casual waitresses, “are coming in at five, we’ll manage.”
Turning to look at her he shook his head, “I’ll come and do my bit. Ok? I just have a few things to do...you thought about bringing Ethan up this weekend? I thought Lucy’s cousin thing, her going away, well it couldn’t have worked out better, could it?”
Avoiding his eyes, she nodded, “I’m taking tomorrow off, hoping Paul can manage things...then I’ll collect Ethan tomorrow, he’ll have a couple of days with us, but not long enough that he’ll be discovered.”
Sonny loved the look of unadulterated pleasure on her face, “I’ll call in to see Paul, help him close up. It didn’t look busy when I checked the diary yesterday.”
She smiled, placing a hand on his forearm, "thanks Carter, you are too good to me. There are half a dozen tables booked, that’s all. I’ll drive down tomorrow morning to pick him up.”
When she sighed he looked at her again, “what? What is it?”
She gave a little shrug, “Stephanie...she’s not very happy about this. She’s been such a rock to me, but now she’s not happy...and not trying to hide that.”
                “She’s had six months of caring for him, she’s going to feel a little put out at losing him, he’s a lovely kid.”
                “Bloody hell, Carter the Philosopher!”
Chuckling he pulled up at the restaurant and jumped out the Land Rover, “can’t understand why you sound SO surprised.”

After unloading the supplies, he parked the Land Rover out back and made for the station, this was his last meeting with Johnny before the coming ‘plan’, he was nervous and he wanted to rehash everything, only then might he relax and enjoy what could be a fun weekend.

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