Mrs Morris Changes Lanes Read online

  Which was just as well, because Juliet’s licence was endorsed with six points for speeding, offences committed by Rob, but which he had cajoled her into accepting on his behalf. His licence was already maxed out, and she wouldn’t want him to be unable to drive for work, would she?

  Juliet chewed her lip, though it had no feeling.

  “I’m sorry, love, you must think me stupid. I thought you were a very tidy parker for someone who’d had so many prangs.” He curled his fingers around the end of his beard, pulling it into a tight bunch. “I shall have to have words with your other half.”

  He’s not my other half, thought Juliet crossly. I am a whole person.

  Dave clearly hoped her silence meant she accepted his apology.

  “Now, love, what can I do to make it up to you? Knock a bit off the bill today?”

  Juliet welcomed the opportunity for speedy reconciliation, but wanted it on her terms.

  “It’s not me who pays the repair bills. That would only be compensating Rob.” When they married, they’d agreed that Rob would pay the mortgage and motoring costs, while Juliet’s salary would cover household bills and groceries.

  Dave glanced around the forecourt for inspiration.

  “I know, you can borrow my special loan car for the afternoon.” He pointed to the corner of the yard at a gleaming Mini the same shade of purple as a Cadbury’s Dairy Milk wrapper, Juliet’s favourite colour. “I keep this car for my special customers. Why not treat yourself to a nice drive out into the country for the afternoon instead of killing time in town?”

  Juliet gazed at the Mini. It was just like the one she’d bought after passing her driving test. But this car was the modern model, with twenty-first century gadgets and trimmings. Trying them out might be rather fun. Dave was right, a little drive in the country would cheer her up. At this time of year, once you got out of town, the country lanes looked gorgeous, with trees in full bright leaf, hedgerows bursting with May blossom and Queen Anne’s lace. Rob called it cow parsley when uprooting it in their back garden, but he hadn’t yet sapped all the romance out of life.

  She began to regain sensation in her tongue.

  “Thanks, Dave, I think I’d enjoy that very much.”

  Visibly relieved, Dave produced a key fob from his bib pocket.

  “It’s a fun little motor, all right,” said Dave, leading her over to the Mini. “Just turn on the satnav, press the option marked ‘scenic route’ and follow the instructions. You’ll have a lovely drive, even in the rain. Then press ‘home’ when you’ve had enough.”

  She assumed that would bring her back to his garage.

  Dave’s unexpected kindness made her lower lip crumple like a bumper against a lamp post. Another tear streaked past her guard.

  “I’ve just been to the dentist.”

  Her voice was as high as a schoolgirl’s. Dave folded his arms as if to stop himself giving her a comforting hug.

  “You can keep the car until tomorrow morning, if you like. No-one else is down to use it until 11 o’clock.”

  Bigger raindrops began to rebound from the tarmac. Juliet wiped one from the end of her nose with the back of her hand.

  “OK, Dave, thanks. I’ll be careful with it, I promise.”

  “I know you will, love. Have fun.”

  Before she could change her mind, Juliet clicked the central locking button on the smart key. The Mini’s lights winked at her cheekily, as if pleased to see her. She smiled.

  Dave was right. A little spin in this smart car would make a world of difference to how she was feeling.

  She needn’t tell Rob about her unexpected outing. He’d only complain that Dave would bump up the bill to cover the cost of her joyride. It would be her and Dave’s little secret.

  As Juliet turned on the ignition, the satnav screen lit up, and she reached out to press the button marked ‘scenic route’. This was the me-time she’d been craving, and she planned to make the most of it while she could.

  4 Mrs Jenkinson

  As she followed the satnav’s instructions and headed for the ring road, Juliet enjoyed the admiring glances from pedestrians envious of her beautiful car. It was so easy to drive, slipping from one gear to the next as smoothly as a spoon through cream.

  The satnav’s deep, suave tones made the journey feel even smoother. “Turn left and follow the road until you reach open fields. Be sure to notice the stand of historic old oaks on your right with the afternoon sun glinting through their leaves.”

  What a sophisticated commentary, thought Juliet. It was like having her own tour guide in the passenger seat. Rob’s satnav gave the bare minimum of instructions.

  She recalled Jessie, aged five, asking her earnestly about the man who managed Rob’s satnav. Jessie had been under the impression that a real live person, in radio contact from some distant map room, was tracking the car wherever it went. She’d drawn a picture of them at a video screen in the tall RAC Control Tower beside the M5, which they’d passed on a day-trip to Weston-super-Mare.

  Juliet smiled, wishing Jessie could see this fancy satnav. Built into the dashboard, it was much more sophisticated than Rob’s clip-on one. Its image of the road was not a conventional digitised map, but in the style of a meticulous watercolour painting.

  Juliet remembered how excited Rob had been when he’d bought his first satnav. He’d made excuses to drive to places he didn’t know, supposedly to reconnoitre new neighbourhoods for his plastering business, but really only to spend more time with his new best friend: the man inside the satnav. But it wasn’t long before Rob lost interest and stuck him on mute. He’d never liked being given instructions, preferring to lose his way rather than admit to needing help.

  He was a funny old stick, her Rob. She supposed he must love her, although she couldn’t remember the last time he’d said so. But it was not in the way she wanted to be loved. She took one hand from the steering wheel and stroked her cheek, just as the new dentist had done earlier. The feeling in her face was starting to come back.

  “Take the next left, please, sweetheart,” the satnav was saying. “Oh, and don’t worry about turning the wipers off now the rain is easing. Let me do that for you.”

  Sure enough, the windscreen wipers paused without Juliet’s help. As the sun came out from behind a dark cloud, the raindrops on the windscreen beyond the reach of the wipers’ arc glistened like diamonds.

  This satnav chappie was certainly taking good care of her. As he directed her to turn on to a road that ran alongside a pretty shaded stream, she realised how familiar his voice was, so deep and warm. Was this car so advanced that it could provide the kind of satnav voice you liked best without you even having to choose? A voice like her new dentist’s. A voice like Tom Jenkinson’s. How did it know?

  No, that was ridiculous. The dental injection must have confused her brain. If this was how a trip to the dentist was going to affect her, she’d better start flossing more regularly. She always flossed for at least a week after every dental appointment, hoping to put off the need for another visit for as long as possible.

  She turned right beside an ancient apple orchard, gnarled boughs heavy with pale pink blossom, and joined a single-track tree-lined lane so narrow that clouds of Queen Anne’s lace beneath the hedgerows gently brushed both sides of the car, like long fingertips in lace gloves. There were no buildings in any direction, not even a barn.

  As the lane passed through a wood, she pressed the button to scroll down the window, inhaling the heady scent of bluebells. She was glad to catch them in flower. For too many years, she’d missed their brief season, seldom venturing into the countryside just for the pleasure of immersing herself in nature.

  Now and again, isolated old farmhouses came into view, clearly no longer home to farmers. Here was an upmarket bed and breakfast, there was one divided into holiday apartments, offering glamping in its spacious grounds. Then came a deconsecrated church, reincarnated as an art gallery and bistro.

  There’s money round here, thought Juliet. She’d long ago given up coveting houses larger than their three-bed turn-of-the-century terrace, but it hadn’t stopped her occasionally fantasising about something more luxurious, especially after reading family sagas of the landed gentry or raunchy romances about self-made billionaires who fell for their secretaries. Working in the library, she’d never meet a billionaire.

  As the road narrowed, Juliet shifted slightly in her seat, glad to be in a car with a tiny footprint. She was amazed how quickly she’d got used to the Mini. Usually she took a couple of days to adapt to one of Rob’s new cars. New to them, anyway. They’d never owned a brand-new vehicle. Rob said new cars lost a couple of grand from their value as soon as you drove them off the showroom forecourt. Only people with more money – or debt – than sense drove new cars. That was one thing they agreed on.

  The Mini was dead comfy, too. She must have been driving for nearly an hour now, but she didn’t feel at all stiff or cramped. Maybe she could persuade Rob to buy a Mini next time he wrote his car off, especially as they no longer needed space for the kids.

  Her reverie was interrupted by the satnav’s further instructions.

  “Please turn right in twenty metres – ten – now.” She obeyed him instantly. “Arriving at destination,” he announced, as they entered a long gravel drive concealed behind a glossy holly hedge. “Well driven.”

  “Thank you,” replied Juliet, flushing with pleasure at the unaccustomed compliment.

  She peered through the windscreen at the detached Edwardian villa that stood in front of her. With the air and scale of an old vicarage, it had damp walls and roof steaming slightly in the sudden burst of bright sunshine. Immediately in front of the house lay a turning circle made from an old millstone, surrounded by Cot
swold stone blocks fitting together like perfect teeth. From the centre of the millstone bubbled a fountain shot through with tiny rainbows.

  Feeling conspicuous in the purple Mini, Juliet checked the house for outward signs of life. Through the huge bay window at the front, she spotted a study. Against the far wall stood a substantial antique roll-top desk crowned with family photographs. Fortunately, no-one was working at it, so with luck, she might escape before anyone accused her of trespassing.

  But why had the satnav sent her here? Surely Dave’s scenic route wouldn’t lead his customers into private gardens? Maybe this was the home of the last person to borrow the courtesy car. She checked the satnav screen for evidence, but it simply stated in an elegant cursive script, “Congratulations, you have reached your destination”.

  Maybe she had inadvertently pressed the “home” button and this was Dave’s home. Could a motor repair business really pay for a fancy property like this? If so, Rob was in the wrong job.

  Juliet was glad the turning circle precluded the need for a three-point turn. Not that she had any problems with reversing, but on this gravel, driving forward would be a little less noisy. The sooner she got out of here, the better.

  As she was about to pull away, she had to switch her right foot swiftly from the accelerator to the brake, because just turning in from the lane was another car. The sleek silver Lexus drew to a halt in front of her, entirely blocking her exit from the turning circle, whether she drove forward or backwards.

  In her confusion, Juliet forgot to return the gearstick to neutral, and the car kangarooed forward and stalled. She couldn’t remember the last time she had stalled a car. Whoever was driving the Lexus, she’d given him a two-fold reason to tell her off – trespassing and bad driving.

  The door of the Lexus swung open with a silent expensive action, and a tall, broad-shouldered man, the car’s only occupant, stepped out. Cowering in the low-slung seat of the Mini, Juliet avoided eye contact, gazing instead at his immaculate midnight-blue suede shoes. He closed the door behind him and stepped nimbly around the fountain to open her door for her. Not wanting to be at a psychological disadvantage, she unclipped her seatbelt and prepared to get out of the car. As she swung her feet onto the gravel, the man reached down a strong hand to aid her, and she took it automatically. He pulled her up to her full height, so she stood facing him, inches away from his firm chest.

  “Hello, darling, I see you beat me home. Well done.”

  When Thomas Jenkinson bent to kiss her full on the mouth, Juliet realised with growing delight that the dental anaesthetic had now entirely worn off. What’s more, other feelings that had lain dormant deep inside for a very long time were flooding back as if they’d never been away.

  5 Gems

  The longer their kiss continued, the weaker was Juliet’s desire to flee.

  I can’t drive away in any case, she told herself. Not with his Lexus in the way. I could just leg it, but I can’t abandon Dave’s Mini. It must be worth at least 20 grand. Besides, I’m in the middle of nowhere, and I don’t know how to get back into town. That’s the trouble with satnavs – trusting them to look after you diminishes your own navigation skills. I’ll never get a signal on my mobile out here, so I can’t depend on that for directions. Anyway, running would be pointless. With those long legs, he’d catch up with me in no time. He’s obviously in good shape. Besides, gravel is hell to run on, as unstable beneath your feet as a stony beach. Better to cooperate than fall flat on my face.

  Only when she was short of breath did she pull back from Tom’s embrace and hold him at arms’ length. When he fixed his big brown eyes on hers, his smile sent a thrill right through her, just as it had all those years ago at the school disco. At the start of her favourite romantic song of the moment, they’d moved towards each other like magnets, wrapping their arms around each other for a slow dance that was over far too quickly and ended with a kiss.

  Kissing him now felt like a homecoming, but the whole encounter seemed bizarre. Maybe she’d received an accidental overdose of anaesthetic and was lying unconscious in the dentist’s chair. If so, she couldn’t be held accountable for her actions, nor feel guilty about kissing him back. Was it even possible to get an overdose of dental anaesthetic?

  Before she could gather her thoughts, Tom took Juliet firmly by the hand and led her to the front door. He slid his key into the lock and ushered her across the threshold before closing the door behind them.

  Inside the entrance hall, Juliet hesitated. She could only guess the layout of the house, a one-off design, standing in its own grounds. On the estate where she and Rob lived, every house had been built to the same plan. Once you’d been in one, you knew your way round every home in the street.

  To buy time, she stooped to pick up the newspaper from the doormat.

  “Let’s have a coffee on the terrace before anything else,” Tom was saying. “I’m parched. That drop of rain has perked everything up except me.”

  Coffee on the terrace: she could say yes to that with a clear conscience, even if it did seem a waste of dreamtime that might be spent more pleasurably. If she wasn’t dreaming, it was a safe and blameless way to spend time with her old flame. Perhaps a spot of caffeine might help her get a grip on herself.

  “That would be lovely.”

  As she followed Tom down the long hall to the kitchen, she hoped he’d make the coffee, because she had no idea how to work the fancy chrome-plated machine on the vast acreage of black marble worktop. While pretending to read the newspaper headlines, she watched him fill the water tank and drop in a foil pod for each cup. He fetched a carton of milk from a big red American-style fridge and steamed a jug full to add to their coffee. Then, dependent as a puppy, she trotted after him through the dining room, its walls lined with huge studio portraits of a boy and a girl at various stages of their childhood through to their early teens. They continued through a huge palm-filled conservatory, where Tom opened French doors on to a broad flag-stoned terrace. Around the edge, silvery sage and acid-bright basil spilled out of Etruscan stone pots.

  Tom set the hand-thrown pottery mugs of coffee on a low table between two sturdy teak steamer chairs. Juliet wondered whether he ever went on cruises for his holidays. She’d always fancied a cruise.

  “So, we have a couple of hours to kill before my parents arrive.”

  “Your parents?”

  Juliet brightened. She hadn’t allowed herself to think Tom might really be a crazed killer bent on abducting her, but she was glad to consider that a crazed killer would be unlikely to invite his parents over to watch him attack her.

  “At least this week you don’t have to worry about cooking for them. They’ll be touched to know Eleanor made that casserole for them when she was home from school last weekend, and Edward the sorbet and shortbread.” Tom paused to sip his coffee, emitting a satisfied sigh at first taste. “I think the new weekly boarding arrangement is really suiting the kids. It’s the best of both worlds: plenty of opportunities to learn new practical skills alongside their academic studies and sports, while we get weekday evenings to ourselves, followed by quality family time at weekends.”

  Juliet stared into her coffee. So Tom’s children were still at school? With his long training as a dentist, he must have come to parenthood later than she had. He probably married much later, too. A wave of nostalgia for her younger dependent children washed over her, and the days when they still believed she was perfect and all-knowing and weren’t shy of expressing their love for her. Did Tom appreciate how lucky he was? If so, why on earth was he farming his kids out to strangers five days a week? Even if Juliet had been rich, she’d never have sent her kids away from home for such a large part of their childhood. It passed far too quickly.

  But if the fancy studio portraits in the dining room were anything to go by, the children seemed happy enough. Beautiful, too, with gleaming dark curls, Tom’s conker-coloured eyes and, of course, perfectly spaced white teeth.

  “Yes, best of both worlds.” Tom set down his mug. “So, what say you we take advantage of one of those benefits right now?” He sprang up from his armchair, all energy where moments ago had been only languor. “Come on, Gems.”