Chapter 14

No thought of supper crossed Grace’s mind. She wondered whether she had been too abrupt with Gareth. She didn’t think so. He had tried to be domineering and had shown rudeness in calling Terry ‘lover boy’ even if he thought he was being amusing. His cocksureness was a sign of his expecting to get his own way as Terry had warned. She could expect him to try again and he might get physical. She was fit and strong but she would be no match for him and she had never done any self-defence training. If he did discover where she lived he would have to have the outside door opened for him so she could deny him that but he could still slip in when one of the other residents went in or out. There was a spy glass in her own front door which she could use and ring for help and hope it would arrive in time. If he tried to break in surely other residents would be alerted and come to her help, wouldn’t they? It might be an idea to warn the other two flats on her floor. The only trouble was that one was occupied by two girls and the other by a young couple and she had always considered the man a bit of a wimp but then numbers and photographs might scare him off.

None of these thoughts gave her much comfort and she could not bring herself even to heat a ready-meal. Instead she fell into bed. It took her a long time to get to sleep and even then it was fitful. She was not herself in the morning but dragged herself into the office at her usual time. Angie noticed immediately and, when she brought in Grace’s coffee, asked her concernedly if she was all right.

Grace managed a smile of sorts. “Yes thanks, Angie. I had a bad night worrying about something that’ll probably never happen.”

“Want to tell me?”

Grace shook her head. “Thanks, Angie, but no.”

“OK.”

Angie left the room looking concerned.

Grace tried to get on with her expansion plans but could not concentrate on them. Almost in desperation she decided to go walkabout in the hope that that would take her mind off things. She went to the garages first. They were empty bar two trailers. She identified them as being Angus and Trevor’s. Presumably Greg had given them leave as there was no sign of them. She looked at the drivers’ shelves and managed a half smile, just the things she and her section used to keep there.

She wandered round the hard-standing. That was immaculate. She wondered how Greg achieved that. Late starters and early finishers, she supposed.

Angie had rung Claire and told her that Grace was looking like death warmed up and asked her to look out for her. Claire passed the message to Greg. Angie then went and saw Anthea Robins’s secretary, Alison.

“Miss Grace is in a stew about something,” she said. “She’s normally bouncing with energy but she wandered in like death warmed up this morning. She wouldn’t tell me what was troubling her other than to say it was something that probably wouldn’t happen.”

“You’d better see Mrs Robins.”

Angie did so and Anthea smiled at her. “Thanks, Angie, I’ll wander over a bit later. Give me a ring when she gets back.”

“Thanks, Mrs Robins.”

In the meanwhile Greg and Claire watched from the window as Grace meandered round the yard. Both could see that she was in no state at all.

“I’m going to chat to her,” said Greg.

“Good luck!”

Greg set off purposefully as though he was going to inspect the garage but then veered off towards Grace as though he had just spotted her.

“Good morning, Miss Grace,” he greeted her cheerfully. “Not ready for coffee yet?”

She smiled wanly at him. “Not just at the moment,” she replied.

“What’s the matter? You look miserable. Can I help?”

“No, Greg. It’s a personal problem.”

“Terry?”

She shook her head.

She was obviously not going to tell him anything so Greg left her with a smile and a cheerful, “Coffee’ll be ready when you are.”

She smiled wanly again. “Thanks, Greg.”

Grace wandered back to her office determined to do some work. Angie noticed she was still cast down and told Alison that she was back which meant that Anthea wandered in a few minutes later.

“Hi, Grace!” she greeted her cheerfully. “Fancy lunch together?”

“Oh hi, Anthea, um ... not today thank you. I’m up to my eyes.”

Anthea sat down in front of her. “What’s the matter, love? You look as though the end of the world is nigh.”

Grace shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.

Anthea rose, closed the door and sat down again.

“Yes it does,” she said. “You need to talk about it to someone. Bottling it up isn’t going to do you any good.”

Grace looked miserably at her and then shook her head.

“Is it something to do with Terry?”

Grace looked at her in surprise. “No. He’s got a beastly cold and a sore throat; that’s all.”

“Well, what is it then? It must be something pretty serious to cast you down like this. I promise not to tell anybody else but I might be able to come up with some idea that might help.”

Grace looked at her again and saw nothing but concern.

“Terry sings with the West Brom Choral Society. You know that from the Fauré. He persuaded me to join...”

She told Anthea the full story.

“Horrible! And you can’t get help and support from Terry.”

Grace shook her head.

“Right! Have you got a parrot or goldfish or anything that needs feeding?”

That elicited a smile from Grace. “No.”

“Right! Well you’re coming home with me tonight, my girl.”

Grace looked doubtful.

“Yes you can and yes you will. Stephen will be delighted. We’ll leave your car here which will throw Master Gareth if he tries snooping around and then go home via your flat to pick up what clothes you want plus your sponge bag.”

Grace looked at her for a moment, whispered a thank you and then burst into tears. Anthea moved and put an arm round her shoulders.

“Let it go,” she said softly. She continued to hold Grace until the tears abated.

“Now then, my dear, have you brought a packed lunch?”