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Authors: Sarah Painter
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sixth form together.’
‘God. I’m sorry. It’s been ages. How are you?’ Gwen was struggling to reconcile this slightly matronly-looking woman with the sullen teenager she only vaguely remembered. Biology, like most of her classes, was a bit of a blur. She’d been dreaming her way through her A levels, thinking only about Cam and when she was next seeing him. Your basic teenage cliché, she now realised.
Lily stood frozen, her face a mask.
‘I’m sorry,’ Gwen said, gesturing. ‘Amanda, this is Lily.’
‘Oh, we know each other,’ Amanda said dismissively. She put down her shopping bags and stretched her fingers. She had purple gloves on with an extra pair of fingerless woollen ones over the top.
‘You didn’t tell me you used to live here,’ Lily said, her voice tight.
‘Yes.’ Gwen turned to Lily. ‘For a while. A long time ago.’
‘How long?’ Lily said, her gaze unnervingly intense. ‘You went to school here?’
‘We moved onto Newfield Road when I was ten. But I haven’t been back for ages. Not since sixth form, actually.’ She forced a laugh. ‘It feels like a different life.’
‘You let me go on like a fool, showing you around. Telling you things.’ Bright spots of colour appeared on Lily’s cheeks. ‘You didn’t say you knew Pendleford, that you used to
live
here.’ Lily was almost stuttering in her horror. ‘I feel like an idiot. You let me go on—’
‘No, I liked it,’ Gwen said, trying to make it better. ‘It’s all so different. It was useful. Really.’
Amanda laughed. ‘Pendleford? Changed? Not likely.’
Gwen shot her a look that said:
not helping
.
‘Well, I assume you can find your way from here,’ Lily said, furious embarrassment clear on her face. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’
Gwen watched her walk away, her back perfectly straight, her highlighted helmet of blonde hair hardly moving. ‘Damn it,’ she said under her breath.
Way to make nice with the neighbours, Gwen.
‘Are you renovating the house?’ Amanda asked, oblivious. ‘I know a great builder if you need one.’ She looked self-conscious for a moment. ‘I suppose I would say that. He’s my husband, you see, but he’s very good.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Ask anyone.’
‘I’m not really planning—’
‘He can get references. Written ones.’
‘I’ve only just moved in and I haven’t worked out what I’m doing yet—’
‘Reputation is everything round here, so you can rely on a local.’
Gwen gave up. ‘I’ll bear him in mind. Thanks.’
‘Well, I’d best get on.’ Amanda stooped to retrieve her bags.
‘Right. Will do. I’m just—’ Gwen waved in the general direction she was heading. ‘I think I’ll get some lunch and wait for the post office to open.’
‘He won’t be back till one.’
‘Right. Thanks.’
‘You want some advice?’ Amanda leaned in. ‘Avoid the Red Lion.’
‘Bad food?’
Amanda sniffed. ‘Bloody unfriendly.’
Gwen watched the bulky figure of Amanda retreat up the twisty street and then turned resolutely in the direction of the pub. Unfriendly sounded perfect. She could cope with the ghosts if nobody living spoke to her for the next half an hour.
Gwen finished a ploughman’s lunch and half a lager and read the newspaper. She was feeling a great deal warmer towards the town. The pub was the kind she liked. It had traditional decor with a few old photographs and horse brasses on the walls, scarred wooden tables and benches and an open fire in the front room.
She’d even enjoyed the surly service from the barman; it made her feel more comfortable than anything else in Pendleford so far. It felt somehow more honest, which was probably a sad reflection on her life so far.
Gwen left her plate and glass on the bar on her way past. The barman rewarded her with an almost-smile. The front room had filled up in the time she’d been eating, but Gwen noticed Cam right away. He was eating alone, a paperback book splayed open next to
‘God. I’m sorry. It’s been ages. How are you?’ Gwen was struggling to reconcile this slightly matronly-looking woman with the sullen teenager she only vaguely remembered. Biology, like most of her classes, was a bit of a blur. She’d been dreaming her way through her A levels, thinking only about Cam and when she was next seeing him. Your basic teenage cliché, she now realised.
Lily stood frozen, her face a mask.
‘I’m sorry,’ Gwen said, gesturing. ‘Amanda, this is Lily.’
‘Oh, we know each other,’ Amanda said dismissively. She put down her shopping bags and stretched her fingers. She had purple gloves on with an extra pair of fingerless woollen ones over the top.
‘You didn’t tell me you used to live here,’ Lily said, her voice tight.
‘Yes.’ Gwen turned to Lily. ‘For a while. A long time ago.’
‘How long?’ Lily said, her gaze unnervingly intense. ‘You went to school here?’
‘We moved onto Newfield Road when I was ten. But I haven’t been back for ages. Not since sixth form, actually.’ She forced a laugh. ‘It feels like a different life.’
‘You let me go on like a fool, showing you around. Telling you things.’ Bright spots of colour appeared on Lily’s cheeks. ‘You didn’t say you knew Pendleford, that you used to
live
here.’ Lily was almost stuttering in her horror. ‘I feel like an idiot. You let me go on—’
‘No, I liked it,’ Gwen said, trying to make it better. ‘It’s all so different. It was useful. Really.’
Amanda laughed. ‘Pendleford? Changed? Not likely.’
Gwen shot her a look that said:
not helping
.
‘Well, I assume you can find your way from here,’ Lily said, furious embarrassment clear on her face. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’
Gwen watched her walk away, her back perfectly straight, her highlighted helmet of blonde hair hardly moving. ‘Damn it,’ she said under her breath.
Way to make nice with the neighbours, Gwen.
‘Are you renovating the house?’ Amanda asked, oblivious. ‘I know a great builder if you need one.’ She looked self-conscious for a moment. ‘I suppose I would say that. He’s my husband, you see, but he’s very good.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Ask anyone.’
‘I’m not really planning—’
‘He can get references. Written ones.’
‘I’ve only just moved in and I haven’t worked out what I’m doing yet—’
‘Reputation is everything round here, so you can rely on a local.’
Gwen gave up. ‘I’ll bear him in mind. Thanks.’
‘Well, I’d best get on.’ Amanda stooped to retrieve her bags.
‘Right. Will do. I’m just—’ Gwen waved in the general direction she was heading. ‘I think I’ll get some lunch and wait for the post office to open.’
‘He won’t be back till one.’
‘Right. Thanks.’
‘You want some advice?’ Amanda leaned in. ‘Avoid the Red Lion.’
‘Bad food?’
Amanda sniffed. ‘Bloody unfriendly.’
Gwen watched the bulky figure of Amanda retreat up the twisty street and then turned resolutely in the direction of the pub. Unfriendly sounded perfect. She could cope with the ghosts if nobody living spoke to her for the next half an hour.
Gwen finished a ploughman’s lunch and half a lager and read the newspaper. She was feeling a great deal warmer towards the town. The pub was the kind she liked. It had traditional decor with a few old photographs and horse brasses on the walls, scarred wooden tables and benches and an open fire in the front room.
She’d even enjoyed the surly service from the barman; it made her feel more comfortable than anything else in Pendleford so far. It felt somehow more honest, which was probably a sad reflection on her life so far.
Gwen left her plate and glass on the bar on her way past. The barman rewarded her with an almost-smile. The front room had filled up in the time she’d been eating, but Gwen noticed Cam right away. He was eating alone, a paperback book splayed open next to
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