The Peas and Carrots Series Boxset 1, page 47
part #1 of Peas and Carrots Series
Eric thoroughly doubted that was true.
A little before midday, Eric packed up his tools and began the cycle home. He had left the car for Suzy, in case she fancied going out at all, although he knew the chance was slim. He was going to stop in at the police station and see if there had been any developments, if for no other reason than to put Suzy’s mind at ease, but Maggie had promised she would call him directly if anything turned up, so he decided better of it. With this thought at the forefront of his mind, he was more than a little startled to arrive home and find their driveway blocked by a blue and white police car.
‘Suzy?’
Eric dropped his bike against the wall. His keys fumbled in the lock.
‘Suzy! Suzy!’
His legs carried him straight up the stairs to her office. He pushed open the door to find it empty. Racing back downstairs he ran into the dining room. Her extended office was strewn with papers and notepads, but, yet again, no Suzy.
‘Suzy!’ Eric shouted at the top of his lungs.
‘Eric?’
With his eyes glazing from the panic, Eric turned to the voice. Suzy was standing at the entrance to the conservatory. In two strides he crossed the kitchen and flung his arms around his wife.
‘Eric, what’s wrong?’ Suzy said, pushing herself back to arm’s length and brushing a hand against his cheek.
‘The police car,’ Eric said. ‘I thought … I thought he’d come back. I thought … I don’t know what I thought.’
His head flopped into his hands as he attempted to shake his stupidity away.
‘Maggie popped round is all, and we thought we’d talk in the conservatory. Since it was a nice day.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Maggie as she appeared in the conservatory doorway. ‘This is my fault.’
She was holding a freshly brewed cup of tea. Steam from the surface weaved up in spirals.
‘I didn’t mean to freak you out, only we got a bit of news and I wanted to tell you personally. I’ve only just got here. Literally, two minutes ago. Suze just put the kettle on so I could give you a ring. Probably should have rung ahead first, though.’
‘That may have been a good idea,’ Eric said, closing his eyes and exhaling in relief.
A second later his eyes pinged open.
‘You’ve got news?’
Maggie’s mouth twisted.
‘Perhaps we should sit down?’ she said.
Maggie led the pair into the conservatory. Still holding Suzy’s arm, Eric lowered himself down into one of the chairs.
‘Obviously we didn’t have much to go on, but after I left yours last night I went up to Buchanan’s, you know, the garage?’
Eric knew it well; it was where Sally had been stored after his father’s death. It was situated half a mile up the main road past their turning.
‘Well, I thought I’d ask Florence, the owner, if she’d seen anything. Miraculously, she said she’d seen a man and car who fitted your ludicrously vague descriptions, and she remembered it because he wasn’t particularly polite. So, I asked if I could have a look at her CCTV and guess what?’
‘You managed to get a plate number?’ Eric said.
‘I did.’
Eric’s sigh of relief was as dramatic as it was audible. He turned to his wife. Suzy smiled back and squeezed his knee although the relief was short lived.
‘What is it?’ Eric said. ‘What did you find out?’
Maggie steepled her fingers and rested her chin on the top of the spire. ‘The car we identified, the one we think fits the description, is registered under the name of a Mr A. Carvay. Anton Carvay.’ She emphasised the last name heavily, both times she said it, although Eric wasn’t entirely sure as to why.
‘Am I supposed to know who that is?’ he said.
Maggie’s head bounced on her fingers. It was more of a contemplative gesture than a nod.
‘No, but we do. Not a pleasant chap. He’s had a lot of dealings with the police in the past. Not around here though. Mostly around South London.’
Suzy frowned.
‘And you’re saying that this man, this Anton Carvay, is the man that tried to run Eric over?’
‘It looks like it,’ Maggie nodded.
‘But why?’ Suzy pressed.
‘That’s what we keep asking ourselves. I was hoping you might be able to offer some suggestions?’
‘Suggestions?’ Eric said.
‘Well, I was thinking.’ Maggie directed her questioning at him. ‘I know you worked for a big company in the city before you moved down here. I wondered if that might somehow be linked to all this. I’m not sure. Perhaps someone might feel you have a debt to pay?’
Eric shook his head.
‘I mainly worked with schools. The last two deals I secured were hiring extra physics teachers for schools in the Midlands. I can’t imagine he’d have a problem with that. I know a lot of kids hate physics, but that seems a little extreme.’
Maggie offered a suitably humoured chuckle that faded quickly.
‘What about you?’ she said to Suzy. ‘You can’t think of anyone who might have a grudge against you?’
It was Suzy’s turn to shake her head.
‘Not unless they have a problem with mediocrely written chick-lit and articles on how to make the most out of overripe avocados.’
Maggie continued to nod thoughtfully.
‘Okay, well I had to check.’
Maggie placed her mug down on the floor and stood up, causing Suzy and Eric to follow suit.
‘You know there’s a very good chance that this is all just some misunderstanding, and I’m sure it will all blow over soon enough, but just in case—’
‘We’ll bolt the windows, double lock the doors, and have you on speed dial,’ Eric finished.
Maggie hugged them both before letting herself out.
It was only in the early evening when Abi came careering down the staircase in her full dance garb that Eric and Suzy remembered her parents were coming for dinner.
‘Shit,’ Suzy said. ‘Have we got any food in?’
‘Not unless you did a secret shop. I completely lost track of time. Sorry.’
As if sensing the conversation, the doorbell rang.
‘Takeaway it is then.’
They were three steps away from answering when Suzy stopped. She knelt down to eye level with Abi, shooting Eric a quick nod en route.
‘Abi, I think it’s probably best we don’t tell Granny and Grandad about the man with the car,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to worry them.’
Suzy looked at Eric, who nodded his agreement, then turned once more back to Abi.
‘Do you think that’s all right, honey? Do you think you could keep it our little secret? Just for a bit. Not forever, just we don’t want to tell them right now.’
Abi wrinkled her nose as if she were a rabbit mid-chew. After a second or so, she dropped the expression. A small light glinted in her eyes.
‘Can I take the iPad to bed tonight?’ she said, a smile creeping onto her lips.
Eric scoffed.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Absolutely not.’
Abi sighed dramatically.
‘I guess I’ll have to tell Granny and Grandad about the strange man then,’ she said.
Eric’s jaw dropped.
‘Abigail Sibley, are you blackmailing me?’ he said.
The glint twinkled a little brighter in his daughter’s eyes as she stared innocently up at her father.
‘I’m not sure, does it mean I’ll get my own way if I am?’
Eric was agog. Beside him Suzy cleared her throat.
‘Twenty minutes, that’s it,’ she said.
Abi grinned.
‘A pleasure doing business with you,’ she said.
As Philip and Yvette swept through the hallway, it was like the last months had never happened. Yvette’s coiffed hair stood inches above her scalp and a haze of floral perfume clouded the air around her. Sparkling jewels dripped from her ears and neck while her signature rings were back on her fingers. Philip looked different too. His skin appeared to be three shades darker. Eric had a recollection of there being a tanning salon just outside of Maldon. Clearly Philip had been making the most of his time on the land.
‘Darlings, darlings,’ said Yvette as she swung her coat from her shoulders and strode into the hallway, tossing the garment over to Eric en route. ‘My goodness, it feels like I haven’t seen you in years.’
She leaned forward and air kissed Suzy’s cheeks.
‘Granny,’ Abi said, tugging at her grandmother’s hand. ‘I need you to help me. We have to practise. I’m dancing in assembly this week. In front of the whole school.’
‘The whole school? Abigail, that’s marvellous, simply marvellous!’
She crouched down to hug her granddaughter.
‘Well then,’ she said. ‘We must practice.’
‘Is takeaway all right for dinner?’ Suzy said, taking her father’s coat and hanging it on a hook next to Yvette’s. ‘We were going to cook, but I’m afraid time got away from us.’
‘Takeaway sounds delightful,’ Philip replied. ‘Although not Indian. The chilli powder they use in these inauthentic meals gives me terrible wind. And not Thai either. My stomach bloats terribly with Thai. I suspect it’s the fish sauce.’
‘Chinese it is then,’ Eric said. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can, although I thought I might cycle down if you’re all right with that?’
‘Sounds like a great idea,’ Suzy said.
Eric kissed Suzy goodbye, squeezing her shoulders for extra support.
‘I won’t be long,’ he whispered.
‘Ride safely,’ she replied.
The Chinese was in the centre of the village, just three doors down from Eaves and Doyle solicitors, the firm who had handled Eric’s father’s estate after his death. A red-neon dragon flashed above the entrance, and the smell of deep-fried wontons wafted out into the street anytime someone opened the door. Said wonton aroma had many a time been Eric’s undoing, and more than once he had indulged in a little pre-lunch appetiser of spare ribs and prawn crackers after visiting the allotment.
Suzy had promised to ring through the order from the house the moment he left but knowing how long it took Philip to make a decision about food, Eric suspected he would be waiting for the best part of half an hour. Normally this would have been a source of deep aggravation; however, as Eric propped the bike against the wall outside the restaurant, he looked through the window and smiled.
‘Well, I didn’t expect to see you here,’ he said, pushing open the door to the sound of Chinese mandolins.
‘I’m addicted to the hot and sour soup,’ Fleur said. ‘Don’t tell anyone. It’s my third takeaway this week.’
Eric laughed. From down below him came a small bark.
‘Hey, you,’ said Eric, kneeling on the linoleum flooring and bundling the little dog into his arms. ‘Twice in one day. Aren’t I lucky?’
The small dog slobbered all over his face, filling his nostrils with a smell of dog food and puppy breath. With a playful growl, Eric submerged his face into the wriggling mass of fur.
‘Dog down, or dog outside.’
Eric lifted his gaze from the ground to be confronted by a decidedly angry-looking teenage girl.
‘Sorry,’ Eric said, still on his knees. ‘My wife was going to ring through an order. Kung-po beef, spring—’
‘I know your order. You need to put your dog down. Now.’
‘Sorry, I was just—’
‘Now.’
Eric caught Fleur’s eye. The corners of his mouth twitched as he suppressed a grin. He could see her doing the same.
‘Sorry,’ Eric said and lowered Lulu back to the floor.
When the girl had disappeared back into the kitchen, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dog biscuit. Keeping one eye on the door to the kitchen, he slipped the treat to Lulu. Her tail thumped the ground in response.
‘So,’ Fleur said. ‘Any news from the police? Do they have any idea who it was that tried to run you over yet?’
‘Actually, yes.’
‘Really?’
‘It’s a bit of a crazy story.’
‘I’ve got time,’ Fleur said.
Eric opened his mouth and tried to figure out what to tell her. It was probably best to start with Maggie appearing at the house in the police car and his ensuing panic despite the fact it made him sound like a neurotic idiot.
‘Well, after I left you this morning, I—’
‘Number two-two-four?’ yelled the cantankerous girl from behind the counter, stopping Eric’s story before it had even started. ‘Number two-two-four?’ Reaching up, she dropped a bag laden with sealed plastic containers onto the counter.
‘Lemon chicken, spare ribs, crispy seaweed, prawn crackers, hot and sour soup, sweet and sour pork balls, and chicken fried rice? Number two-two-four.’
‘That’s me,’ Fleur said and levered herself to standing before walking over and taking the bag. She passed the girl two twenty-pound notes, which she took and planted into the till.
‘So, tell me what happened?’ Fleur said, returning to her place on the hard, white seat.
Eric shook his head.
‘I’ll catch you up in the morning. It’s a long story, and it’s not that interesting, really. You don’t want to keep your company waiting.’
‘Company?’
Eric glanced back down at her feet. Lulu was attempting to pilfer prawn crackers from the top of the bag.
‘Oh, this. This is just for m—’ Fleur stopped mid-sentence and blushed. She pushed herself to her feet again. ‘Yes, this is for me and my company. I definitely have company. Right, Lulu?’
She smiled again, wider this time. It pushed the apples of her cheeks into perfect rounds.
‘I guess that means I’m busted.’
Eric was still staring at Fleur’s cheeks when she stopped talking. They were incredibly round he noticed, and absolutely symmetrical. Almost like golf balls.
‘So … yes … well …’ Eric started stuttering, suddenly coming back to the moment and hoping that he had started talking before Fleur noticed him staring. ‘I’ll tell you everything when I see you tomorrow.’
Lulu looked up at her previous owner. Her tail flopped between her legs.
‘I know,’ Eric said to the dog. ‘But I’ll see you tomorrow.’
She whined. Fleur looked at him apologetically.
‘You know, I think she misses you,’ she said.
‘I miss her, too,’ Eric said.
He sighed deeply as he offered Lulu one more hurried rub. A moment later the pair sauntered off down the high street. Eric’s chest ached. There really was something special about that dog. A bond. Maybe he could talk to Fleur about letting him have her back next year when Suzy was a bit more settled.
‘One kung-po chicken with extra onions,’ the girl called across the room.
‘Goddamn it,’ Eric cursed.
Eric made good time on the ride home. He’d kept at a fairly strenuous pace all the way until the turn-off to his road when he slowed down; the last thing he wanted was to come face to face with a lost car doing a U-turn straight into him. In a battle of car vs bike, there was only ever one winner. A few metres from the house and a voice caught his attention.
‘No, that’s ridiculous.’
There was something about the hushed urgency that made Eric slow.
‘Why? … You’re panicking. It’s understandable.’
For a second, Eric thought that Philip and Yvette had moved outside for a more private conservation, but as the one-line responses continued, he realised it must be a phone call.
‘You shouldn’t be calling … We agreed. This is for the best. It’s the only option, you know it is … I would have heard … I promise. Now stop panicking, you’ve got more important things to focus on.’
Eric’s pulse was thumping in his chest. He couldn’t stay out all night and listen, he needed to get into the house, but the last thing he wanted was for Philip to think he had been eavesdropping. With three metres left to go he pushed down hard on the pedals and sped into the driveway as if he had sprinted the whole way there.
Startled, Philip jumped back.
‘Eric,’ he said as he slipped his phone into his pocket. ‘I’d just come out to see where you’d got to. Is that the food? Fantastic, I’m starving.’ Then without another word he spun around and disappeared into the house.
Inside, the dilapidated kitchen table was covered in sequined lace and glitter glue. Hoping for another option, Eric peered into the dining room to see that table there was equally camouflaged, although in Suzy’s paraphernalia as opposed to Abi’s.
‘Granny’s making my costume,’ Abi said.
‘I can see. I guess it’s a TV dinner,’ Eric said.
‘No, no,’ Yvette said. ‘We can clear all this up.’
She lifted a corner of the fabric only to spray the floor with glitter.
‘I’ll get the trays,’ Suzy said.
‘Why’s it called a TV dinner when we’re not allowed to have the TV on?’ Abi asked as Eric opened the various containers. ‘It should be called a lap dinner because we’re allowed it on our laps.’
‘Fine, it’s a lap dinner,’ Eric conceded, sensing what could potentially become an incredibly long conversation.
‘Can I watch my iPad? Then it’s a bit more like a TV dinner.’
‘Nope, but good try,’ Eric said. ‘Anyway, we’re not eating in the living room. I thought we’d eat in the conservatory for a change.’
After dishing up the food, Eric laid the spare ribs and prawn crackers on the counter top, instructing everyone to help themselves. In the conservatory, he took a place in the wicker armchair while Philip and Yvette squashed up on the sofa. The last time he had been in there, Eric thought, was with Lulu. The ache in his chest resurfaced and swelled. Clenching his jaw, he forced it back down. This was a nice room, he told himself. He couldn’t let memories of his lost puppy haunt it forever. Particularly when there was a chance that one day, he might get her back.
Eric was reminded one mouthful in how he hated TV dinners. Even more than his crummy kitchen table and messy dining room. He found it impossible to eat on his lap without spilling something for starters, and the crick in his neck felt even worse hunched over.
