Keeping Juliette Company Read online

  Keeping Juliette Company

  by Sarah Picson

  Copyright © 2021 by Sarah Picson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Sarah Picson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  First edition

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  About the author

  Also by Sarah Picson

  Chapter 1

  Ellie Saunders stood in the noisy, crowded pub and felt quite alone. Despite the fact that she had been waiting for this night with lightheaded anticipation for weeks, actually it was more like years if she was really going to admit it, this wasn’t how she expected to feel at all.

  A small table to her left contained a growing pile of gifts and as chatter and laughter swirled around her, Ellie picked up a few of the cards:

  Congratulations on your engagement!

  We’re so happy for you both!

  All the best for a wonderful future together.

  Ellie placed them back in a neat row and scratched at the label of her dress: black, sparkly and shorter than she was used to wearing. Her blonde hair hung poker straight down her back, almost reaching her waist and with smoky eyes, achieved by meticulously applying makeup she didn’t usually wear, she scanned the room trying to find the person she’d expected to be glued to her side all evening.

  A bottle of prosecco popped open nearby and a smile flashed across Ellie’s face to greet the cheers from her work colleagues. As she held out her empty glass, she finally caught sight of Dominic across the pub, sauntering towards the bar with his sandy blond hair, broad shoulders and wide smile that she’d fallen so hard for when they’d first met. Ellie’s eyes bored into him, willing him to catch her eye, but he wasn’t searching the crowd, instead he slapped his friend, Murphy, on the shoulder and leaned against the bar with his back to her.

  Tipping the contents of her glass down her throat, Ellie enjoyed the sweet, light taste on her tongue and the heavy feeling spreading through her limbs as the bubbles swam singing through her bloodstream. She had drunk more than she had been meaning to, but if she couldn’t drink at her own party, when could she?

  Someone cleared their throat nearby and glancing over her shoulder Ellie noticed a tall man with short, steel-grey hair, on the fringes of the gathering.

  ‘Good turn out,’ he said, with a curt nod.

  ‘Yes,’ Ellie replied. ‘It is, isn’t it?’

  Ted Stockton was headteacher at Thistleby High School where she worked. Dressed in his usual black suit and shiny shoes, he looked as though he’d got lost on the way to a funeral.

  ‘Have you thought about that mentoring programme I mentioned?’ Ted asked, taking a step in her direction.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance yet.’

  ‘If you aspire to be head of department someday, Miss Saunders, which I know you can achieve, it’s worth giving it some thought.’

  ‘What about my mentoring programme, Ted?’

  A woman had appeared at Ellie’s side, her cheeks flushed and her chin tilted upwards as she locked eyes with Ted. He raised his eyebrows a fraction.

  ‘We can discuss that when you’re ready, Miss Wallace,’ he replied, before striding away.

  ‘Rejected again!’ the woman sighed, placing the back of her hand dramatically against her forehead.

  Clinking their glasses together, Ellie grinned at her best friend, Jenny. She wore an emerald-green dress that hugged every inch of her curvy frame. She was the same height as Ellie, but that’s where the similarities ended: where Ellie was slim and lithe, Jenny had wide hips, an ample bosom that Ellie had always envied and a chestnut-brown bob that bounced on her shoulders.

  ‘Don’t be like that, I’m sure if you asked him again, he —’ began Ellie.

  ‘He gave up on my career development a long time ago, Ellie,’ scoffed Jenny. ‘I doubt I’ll be rising to the dizzy heights of Head of Geography on Ted’s watch.’

  ‘You make it sound like he hates you, he just…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, I don’t think he knows how to talk to you.’

  ‘It’s not hard, is it? You’re doing it,’ Jenny said, making a face. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him. I honestly don’t know why you invited him tonight. He’s no fun.’

  ‘I couldn’t invite everyone else and not him.’

  ‘Yes, you could.’

  ‘No,’ Ellie said, ‘I couldn’t.’

  ‘Well, you’re lucky he hasn’t ruined my first night out in ages. Anyway, why are you hiding over here in the corner? You’ve been so excited about tonight.’

  ‘I know,’ Ellie said, suddenly a little lost for words. ‘I’m just taking a breather, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, it’s a great party, even if we are in this dive. I thought you said you might be holding it in that new wine bar, The Olive Tree?’

  ‘Dominic wanted to come here.’

  Ellie’s gaze lingered on the small dribble of prosecco in the bottom of her glass.

  ‘But he’s always in here, isn’t he? Why can’t he try somewhere different? I mean it doesn’t hurt to —’

  ‘How’s Bea?’ Ellie asked.

  Jenny arched an eyebrow before answering.

  ‘Even more gorgeous than usual because she’s at Aaron’s this weekend.’

  Ellie placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Jenny had married Aaron in a whirlwind romance three years ago and their daughter, Bea, had arrived soon after that. Unfortunately, the stress of having a baby put such strain on their relationship that things had quickly turned sour, every conversation turning into a blazing argument. A hasty divorce had followed and even though Jenny smiled bravely through it all, Ellie knew she had been devastated that it hadn’t worked out.

  ‘I bet you miss Bea really,’ Ellie said.

  ‘I won’t miss her when I stagger through the door later and nosedive onto the sofa. I definitely won’t miss her in the morning, when my head hurts and I’m eating her sugar-coated cereal from the box. But after twenty or so cuppas, then I’ll miss her. Besides, it’s good to have a break, they’re not called the terrible twos for nothing, you know.’

  ‘She’s an angel,’ Ellie said.

  Jenny curled her lip up.

  ‘You don’t see what goes on behind closed do
ors when I’m screaming at the top of my lungs because Bea won’t even look at a vegetable, let alone eat one and then she screeches back at me until her face turns all red and blotchy. Yes, motherhood is blissful!’

  ‘Oh, it can’t be that bad,’ said Ellie, with a dreamy smile.

  ‘Look at you, you can’t wait to be screaming at the top of your lungs, can you?’

  ‘No! We’re going to start trying as soon as we’re married.’

  ‘Ah, Ellie with her plan. Will that mean less time at the pub for Dominic then?’ Jenny teased.

  ‘Of course, it will. Everything will change when we’ve got children.’

  Ellie’s smile dissolved at the undisguised cynicism that shone from her friend’s eyes. She knew Jenny didn’t have much time for Dominic and usually she kept her mouth shut but alcohol always loosened the hinges of her tongue.

  Jenny lurched forward and grabbed a bottle from the table. With a flourish, she tipped it far too fast into Ellie’s glass, so that foam and liquid erupted out over the top and down the sides.

  ‘Oops!’

  Jenny giggled. Ellie yelped and stretched her arm out to stop the sticky drink dripping on her new shoes.

  ‘That’s the last of it,’ Jenny exclaimed, holding her empty glass up for Ellie to see. ‘I’m thirsty and I heard Dominic was getting his wallet out tonight.’

  Clamping a hand on her hip, Ellie thrust out her glass to Jenny.

  ‘Here, have this, wouldn’t want you dying of thirst on me. I’ll go and order some more bottles.’

  Ellie weaved her way through the crowd, peeling her shoes from the sticky floor with every step she took and trying to ignore the stale scent sweating from the pub’s walls. She tutted to herself, wishing she had fought harder for The Olive Tree, but her suggestion had been met with disbelief. Dominic had insisted on The Bell & Whistle and despite the grungy music pounding from the speakers on the wall, his words still rang in her ears:

  I don’t want to go to that posh new wine bar. I won’t be comfortable there.

  As she approached the bar, Ellie stopped behind Dominic and paused for the briefest of seconds, before winding her arm around his waist. He glanced round, an easy smile lighting up his face as he curled his arm over her shoulder. She leaned into his familiar, smoky smell.

  ‘Having a good night?’ he asked.

  Ellie nodded, soaking up the warmth of his body.

  ‘We’ve got a stack of presents. I don’t know how we’re going to get them home.’

  ‘We’ll sort it out later,’ Dominic said.

  A woman, with wavy hair pinned up on top of her head, thick layers of mascara weighing down her eyelids and a dramatic slash of red lipstick, leaned over the bar

  ‘Can I get you anything else?’ she purred to Dominic, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face.

  ‘Let’s get a few more bottles of prosecco,’ Ellie said, tucking herself further into Dominic’s arm. ‘Jenny’s thirsty.’

  A noise escaped from Dominic’s mouth, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh.

  ‘I can’t afford to pay for her to get drunk.’

  Ellie raised her eyebrows, a fizz of something that wasn’t prosecco simmering in her stomach.

  ‘Then I’ll pay. We both put money behind the bar tonight.’

  ‘Fine,’ Dominic said. ‘Two bottles of prosecco.’

  He nodded at the woman, who hadn’t so much as glanced in Ellie’s direction.

  ‘Coming right up,’ she said.

  Dominic flashed her a dazzling smile as she placed the bottles on the bar before them.

  ‘Thanks, Scarlette.’

  Ellie watched Scarlette glide away to serve another customer, being more sexy in two minutes than Ellie had felt in her whole life.

  ‘You know her?’ she asked Dominic.

  ‘Not really,’ he replied, with a shrug. He grabbed one of the bottles and turned around. ‘Can I have your attention, everyone?’

  Their group of friends quietened down. A heat flooded Ellie’s cheeks as all eyes turned their way. Dominic, however, stood taller, his chest visibly swelling in front of the small crowd.

  ‘As you all know, we’ve been together a while and I decided it was time that I made an honest woman of my Ellie.’

  Cheers echoed around their small corner of the pub.

  ‘We’re surprised she said yes!’ came a rowdy cry from the back of the crowd.

  Sniggers rippled through Dominic’s friends.

  ‘Oi, Murphy,’ Dominic shouted at the small, red-faced man wearing a football shirt. ‘There was no way she was going to say no, you moron!’

  The laughing grew louder. Ellie’s chest tightened, wishing they’d shut up. She took a step forward and tried to make herself heard above the din.

  ‘Thank you so much for coming to celebrate with us tonight, we are —’

  Ellie flinched at a sudden pop behind her. She swivelled around to see Dominic tipping one of the prosecco bottles straight into his mouth. A cheer rose up as he lifted the bottle higher, his throat pulsating with the liquid gushing down it, his fist in a triumphant curl jabbing the air above him. Ellie glanced back at their friends, but all eyes were on Dominic, her few words forgotten.

  And then the bottle was thrust her way, prosecco dribbling down Dominic’s chin as his lazy smile encouraged her on. Ellie’s shoulders rose up and she snatched the bottle from him. Another cheer followed as she pressed it to her lips and drank, trying her best not to choke as it gushed down her throat.

  Ellie’s hand shot out to grip the bar, the room was beginning to sway a bit too much for her liking. She held the bottle out to Dominic, but he wasn’t there, he was moving away from her, his crowd of friends swallowing him up. Ellie considered going after him, but her tall silver heels pinched her feet without mercy, keeping her rooted to the spot.

  Through blurry eyes she examined a small, round diamond perched in a gold band, winking at her under the pub’s bright lights. Even now, after a month, her engagement ring felt heavy on her finger. Twisting it round and round, a size too large, Ellie wondered if it would fit better when she was wearing a wedding ring as well.

  ‘I hope for your sake you don’t vomit down that gorgeous dress because you look amazing tonight,’ a voice said in her ear.

  Ellie turned to find Jenny beside her, grinning.

  ‘Of course, I’m not,’ she said, screwing her face up.

  ‘Come on,’ Jenny said, grabbing the bottle of prosecco dangling from her hand. ‘Let’s go and enjoy your engagement party, shall we?’

  Chapter 2

  Robert Finch grimaced under the stark strip lights in the office, the soft throbbing at his temples intensifying. He’d been in rooms like this one so often over the years that he should have been used to them but he wasn’t. The intrusive smell of disinfectant, the soulless off-white walls and the hard, grey floors that squeaked underfoot, never failed to set him on edge.

  Squeezed into an uncomfortable chair, he willed the doctor across the desk from him to get on with whatever he’d called him in here for. Robert reached a finger behind the lens of his dark-rimmed glasses and rubbed his eyelid. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d left the office on time, but it had been long enough for Moira to start making comments. Thoughts of the work he had brought home with him for the weekend began to creep into his mind and a mild frustration settled over him like a cloud, at the inconvenience of being here. Doctor Marshall rarely asked to see him when he came for his weekly Sunday visit.

  ‘Mr Finch.’

  Gripping some papers in his hand, Doctor Marshall was looking straight at him now. Deep lines creased the doctor’s face and white thinning hair snaked around the back of his head, leaving the top shiny and pale.

  Relieved to be getting down to business, Robert hauled himself up in the chair, tucking his long legs beneath it.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thank you for seeing me at such short notice,’ said Doctor Marshall.

  ‘No pro
blem.’

  ‘It has become apparent to us that a change is necessary,’ he said, his voice slow and steady. ‘A change for the better.’

  ‘A change?’ Robert repeated.

  He was alert now.

  ‘Yes. It’s been seven years with no visible change and as such, we are recommending another facility. One which is more capable of catering for —’

  ‘Hold on,’ Robert interrupted, his hand shooting out towards the doctor. ‘There’s never been talk of any other facility apart from this one.’

  Doctor Marshall placed the papers down on his desk and sighed.

  ‘The thing is Robert, it’s highly unlikely now that things will ever change. We’ve warned you about this every step of the way.’

  The doctor’s voice seemed to suddenly fade away, as if he were talking underwater. Robert leaned forward, straining to hear better.

  ‘Another facility is necessary for more appropriate long-term care,’ Doctor Marshall was saying. ‘I know of one that has an excellent reputation. First class. I can’t recommend it enough.’

  Robert resisted the brief urge to shout at the doctor, to pick up the chair he was sitting on and throw it against the wall. Instead, he did what he always did and asked practical questions instead.

  ‘Where is this facility? How much will it cost? Not that it matters, of course. How does it differ from this one?’

  Doctor Marshall leaned back in his chair and nodded at Robert’s questions. As if by magic, a glossy leaflet appeared from underneath the pile of paper. He pushed it across the desk to Robert. A sprawling building dominated the front of the leaflet, nestled in the middle of green, rolling fields.

  ‘It’s in the country?’ Robert asked, staring at the leaflet in disbelief.

  ‘Yes,’ Doctor Marshall replied. ‘I believe it’s very tranquil there, which of course is of great benefit to the patients.’

  Robert flipped the leaflet over. Thistleby Care Clinic. He’d never even heard of Thistleby. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he punched in the address and his eyes widened.

  ‘This is miles away.’

  ‘It is the best facility there is for long-term care.’