Read Online Junction X by Erastes - Free Book Online Page B

said. But Alec didn’t. He just smiled and as I walked down the stairs, I could hear Albert telling him off for not being polite. I remember thinking that I hadn’t noticed; he’d seemed perfectly nice to me.

 
    Chapter 6
     
    Alec didn’t come that next Saturday, and I couldn’t blame him. I reasoned he wasn’t interested in being forced to socialise, and I made a mental note to drop the engine in next door when I found time. The weekend afterwards I was out in the garden with Valerie, being given my orders. The children were out, off swimming with friends and Valerie was explaining to me what she wanted done with the land beyond the three plum trees. I was mentally cataloguing it away in order to explain it all to Tyler, our gardener, when he came next. She was quite capable of dealing with him herself, but while she designed the shape and style, she always considered the manual labour in the garden to be my domain, although I hardly knew a snapdragon from a dahlia and rarely lifted a hose.
    So she told me what she wanted done, I told the man, and the man did the actual work. Oh, I would wander out from time to time and sweep a path free of leaves or snow, or wander around with a bucket, looking important, but that was about it.
    “The wind has quite ruined the honesty,” she said, investigating the herbaceous border at the bottom.
    I peered at the ragged shrub she seemed to be looking at. “So, do you want it replaced?”
    “No, I’m sure he can just prune it.”
    “ I could prune it.” I was mildly stung that I wasn’t even considered up to the challenge.
    She straightened up. “No, I wouldn’t let you near secateurs again, darling.” The gate latch sounded, saving me from her blaming me again for killing one of her roses, and she turned, shielding her eyes with her hand. “Who’s that?”
    It took me a while to focus, as the sun was dazzling. “Oh. It’s Alec. From next door.”
    She gave a small laugh. “Of course from next door. How many Alecs do we know?” She put down the basket she was holding and turned her smile on Alec.
    His face was a little guarded, it seemed to me—not the shuttered look he’d used when his father had come up to the attic but perhaps a little nervous, his eyes flickering from one of us to the other. His hair was all brushed to one side and looked dreadful. It was either damp or covered in Brylcreem. I could imagine his mother had done it, and it didn’t suit him the way the casual curls I’d seen the day before had.
    It’s hard for me to remember that day objectively, to look back and see Alec through the eyes of that particular Ed Johnson. Because that Ed Johnson hadn’t long to live. He was about to vanish forever.
    “Hello,” said Valerie. “How nice to see you.”
    He shook the hand she offered him and I could swear he blushed a little. He didn’t seem the same person that had come for dinner; he was certainly happier, if not completely relaxed.
    I took his hand. It was warm. “I asked Alec over,” I said, feeling a little defensive and not wanting to say he was a week late. “He’s going to look at my Sir Nigel Gresley.”
    “Your what?”
    “The Hornby—the train I had in the loft.”
    “Oh, of course. It must be filthy. If you are going to get it down from there…”
    “Already anticipated, darling,” I said. “Dust sheets are already down, and we won’t take it out of the conservatory.”
    Alec shot me a look as Valerie picked up her basket and walked towards the chairs. His eyes were clear and a little anxious and the side of his mouth quirked in a half-grin. I can’t remember now whether I smiled back or not, but I remember that smirk of his.
    Valerie led us across the lawn and she sat him down at the garden table, sending me in for cool drinks. When I emerged, they seemed to be getting on well. Valerie was a great hostess and always had been. Now she had him alone, she was putting him at his ease with her usual grace.
    “I had no idea