Page 47 of A Wish For Jo
Harvey returned the photo to the mantelpiece and weaved his way into the kitchen. Locating a tatty old brush and pan, he swept up the mug shards lest he tread on them barefoot in the morning. That seemed an eternity away, unless he drank himself into oblivion. Nope. No whisky remained, and the thought of facing Janette's puckered-up, judgemental face filled him with horror.
'Coffee. Make some coffee.' Harvey fished out his favourite ground beans and fixed himself a potent brew. He washed down a couple of antacid tablets with the first cup, wincing as the hot liquid scorched his throat. His brain fog clearing a little, he tipped the broken mug pieces into a plastic bag and dumped them in the bin. What next?
His closed laptop taunted him, untouched in days and a sorry reminder of his inertia. Harvey flipped it open, keyed in the password and up popped the work in progress. Or rather, the work in a state of limbo. He pulled up a chair, cracked his knuckles — a habit that had driven Lindsey up the wall — and began to write. Scattered words and random emotions tumbled from his frenetic fingers. A wash of tears blurred his vision, but he continued to type like a man possessed.
Two hours later, Harvey sat back. His eyes stung, and he'd lost sensation in his buttocks. The cheap chair did his rear no favours and he wriggled back and forth to ease the numbness. Five thousand words. Five thousand fricking words. As some comedian had once quipped, he'd hit all the right notes, although not necessarily in the right order.
Rubbing the stubble on his chin, Harvey realised his direction had changed dramatically. His earlier, doom-laden opus now resembled a cross betweenGhostandWhen Harry Met Sally. Who knew that romance coursed through these veins? Well, he'd certainly known love with Lindsey. He'd hoped that, just maybe, he'd find love with Jo.When Harvey Met Jo. A love story of two opposites, sparring until they realise their differences make them a perfect match.
Oh, who was he kidding? He and Jo weren't about to skip off into the sunset, content in the knowledge that demanding dressing on the side didn't spell relationship disaster. His Harry had well and truly dumped on Sally, and a happily ever after was as likely as snowflakes in Fiji.
An ominous gurgling in his stomach suggested that whisky and strong coffee wouldn't win him any dietary plaudits. A scan of his cupboards and fridge revealed nothing edible, unless he scraped the mould off a doorstep of bread and covered it in wilted ham. 'Guess it's the pub, then.' Harvey checked he'd saved the document, shrugged on a coat, and stuffed his wallet in his trouser pocket.
Entering The Jekyll and Hyde, his foul mood lifted a little at the cosiness of the place. A couple of locals grinned at him, and landlord Ken gestured him over with a pint glass raised aloft. 'One of these, or do you need something stronger?'
Harvey's alcohol demons united in an effort to top up the residual effects of his earlier session. He eyed the pint glass and the optics before asking for a soda water and lime, then squinted at the blackboard. 'Anything good on the menu?' He'd forgotten his reading glasses and the words blurred before him.
'I'll try not to take offence at that,' said Ken, as his wife Mags sidled up. 'Everything we serve here is good. Isn't that right, my love?'
'Oh, yes, it is. Except I don't like those sweet peas that cook keeps adding to stuff. And that tattooed young man — what's his name again? — said I needed help with my make-up. Said he'd get his girlfriend to lend a hand. Cheek!'
Harvey knew about Mags' dementia. He smiled as she hurried away, muttering under her breath.
'My wife means chickpeas, and the tattooed man is our son, Ed.' Ken attempted to smile back, but his mouth rebelled, turning downward. 'The pesto chicken stew with dumplings is pretty amazing, as is the pork with gorgonzola and nduja sauce.'
'I have no idea what en-doo-ya is, but I'll give it a go.' Harvey flipped out his wallet and counted the notes. Enough to cover the food and drink, just. He rarely used his credit card these days: too risky. Harvey budgeted carefully, bottles of whisky notwithstanding. 'Has … erm … Jo been in today?'
Ken shook his head as he called out Harvey's order to Jamie. 'Nope. You two are an item, right? Nothing much gets past the folks of Cranley.'
Harvey stared into his glass: fizzy water with a hint of sickly cordial. His stomach contorted and his appetite curled up into a defiant ball of refusal. 'No, we're not. Listen, cancel the food, mate. Here's the money for the drink. I've just remembered something important I have to do.'
Ken shrugged before beckoning Harvey closer. 'No worries. None of my beeswax, but you couldn't do better than Jo. A bloody amazing woman, with a heart of gold.'
Harvey left, Ken's words itching in his ears. Yes, Jo was bloody amazing, and he'd had her heart — or at least, a piece of it. Until he'd smashed it to smithereens.
CHAPTER45
Not a dicky bird from Harvey.No call, no text, no apologetic visit where he arrived armed with flowers and explanations. Jo didn't know what she'd expected, but complete radio silence? Another nail in the coffin of a relationship that had never really stood a chance. Time to pull on her big-girl pants and face the fact that she'd likely stay single for the rest of her life. Not that being single was a bad thing, but Jo had dared to hope that she'd found someone to stroll with into the twilight years.
Striding into Janette's shop, Jo plastered on her brightest smile. Wallowing was for wallies, and Jo prided herself on being a glass-half-full sort of person — except when the glass contained nothing more than bitter sediment. 'Hi, Janette, how are you today?'
Janette, resplendent in a lurid green pinafore and unfeasibly tight leopard-print leggings, greeted Jo with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. 'Just the wummin I've been wanting to see! Hang on a mo while I sort out Peggy's bits and bobs.' Lobbing potatoes, carrots and several family size bars of chocolate into Peggy's string shopping bag, Janette snatched the proffered tenner with indecent haste. Tossing the change on the counter, she ushered a bewildered Peggy to the door with flapping hands and incoherent mutterings.
Before she could ponder why Janette wanted to see her, Jo felt steely fingers grab her arm and haul her into the biscuit and dried goods aisle. 'I ken who it is!' Janette gave Jo a jubilant grin, displaying the gap where a tooth had fallen victim to a rock-hard pork pie past its sell-by date.
Jo smiled back, but her brain flipped through the possibilities. Could Janette somehow have figured out Aaliyah's true identity? It seemed unlikely, but recent events suggested anything was possible. Who'd have thought Jo would acquire a genie as an assistant, with a sidekick thrown in for good measure?
'Sorry, what are you talking about?' She grabbed a packet of ginger nut biscuits and a packet of instant noodles, neither of which she wanted. She couldn't even remember why she'd come into the store. Perhaps for stamps, or a pack of plasters. She'd nicked her thumb that morning dicing carrots for her much-loved pasties. Distracted by thoughts of Harvey, her attention had been a million miles away from the job in hand, and as per usual, only one ridiculously small plaster remained in her bathroom cabinet.
'Who our mystery man is! Mr Sour Puss, who widnae crack a smile if you sprinkled glitter on his porridge. I'm telling you, it's nae wonder he swapped the bright lights of the city for our wee village. Mind you, he'd have been better off takin' a hike to a remote island, considering what he did.'
Jo's heartbeat accelerated faster than a Formula One driver. Whatever Janette meant, it didn't sound like good news about Harvey — and that didn't sound like good news for Jo, either. Damn it, she'd finally met a man she liked — until it all went pear-shaped — and he was an axe murderer. Or a serial killer who preyed on lonely middle-aged women. Or a porn addict, his computer stuffed with unsavoury images. Except it didn't matter anymore, because—
'Look here!' Janette pulled out a dog-eared celebrity magazine from her pinafore pocket and thrust it under Jo's nose. Jo had little interest in the shenanigans of soap stars, overpaid footballers or so-called 'influencers'. Mind you, she did recognise the couple on the cover, the glamorous former host of a popular daytime quiz show and the lead singer with a well-known boy band. The caption under the photo read: 'When you find your soulmate, you just know your love will last forever.'
Jo snorted as Janette flicked through the pages. As far as she could recall, the soulmates had separated acrimoniously after six months, with their war of words splashed all over the tabloids. Allegations of infidelity were launched on both sides, and scathing comments about the size of the singer's tackle dominated the headlines for days.
'Take a gander at this.' Janette tapped a page spattered with what looked like bloodstains. 'Ignore the splatters. I like to read when I'm eating, and I'm an awfy messy eater.'
