An Ordinary Girl Read online

  This was not an evening she looked forward to. She shouldn’t have agreed to go, but Ronan had pleaded, and Ash had given in. She was a pushover and Ronan a skilled persuader.

  She emerged from the bathroom to find Mr. Control-freak had gone though he’d laid out her clothes on the bed. Ash towel-dried her short, black hair, sprayed it with a stay-in conditioner and slipped into the dress. Shoes and jacket on, she went downstairs.

  Mike, her other male housemate, was in the kitchen with Ronan.

  “Oh, the luscious girlfriend.” Mike winked at her.

  “You look great,” Ronan said. “Ready to go?”

  Ash nodded.

  Mike put his mouth to her ear. “Don’t use tongues. You don’t know where his has been.”

  “I heard that,” Ronan said.

  “You were meant to.” Mike grinned.

  Ronan grabbed Ash’s hand and propelled her out of the house in the direction of the station.

  “Sure you can remember everything I told you?” he asked.

  “Yes, but—”

  “My dad despises liberals, vegetarians, cats and me.”

  “Don’t you—”

  “Oh, and don’t bring up global warming unless you want a lecture.”

  Ash yanked at his hand. “Ronan, you’ve not seen your parents for ten years. I don’t think your father wants to talk about global warming.”

  He shot her an anguished glance. This was a Ronan she’d never seen before. He was usually so cool and collected.

  “You’re scaring me,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

  “They’re my one weakness.” Ronan’s grip tightened. “What were your parents like?”

  “Ordinary.”

  “Lucky you.”

  Ash smiled. “Yep, lucky me.”

  * * * * *

  Ronan’s parents were already seated in the restaurant. Ronan looked like his father—tall and fair-haired. He and his father shook hands. His mother hugged him. When she let Ronan go, there were tears in her eyes. She beamed at Ash, gave her a hug too, and Ash realized she’d been mistaken for Ronan’s girlfriend. Ash wanted to kill her housemate. Ronan hadn’t explained why he hadn’t seen his parents for ten years and now Ash wondered if it was because he hadn’t told them he was gay.

  “How lovely to meet you, Ash. Please call me Dee.”

  “Stick to Your Honor for Dad,” Ronan muttered, and his father glared.

  Off to a good start then. It would be frighteningly easy to pretend Ronan and she were an item. They’d lived together for almost nine months, plenty of time to get to know each other, though of course, Ronan didn’t really know her at all.

  His mother quizzed her. “How long have you been together?”

  “Nine months but—”

  “He needs his hair cut, don’t you think?”

  Yes, Ash thought, he needed his hair cut.

  Yes, Ash agreed, he was a brilliant artist.

  No, she made him do his own ironing.

  Ash kept kicking Ronan under the table, but he seemed intent on letting the ball roll, and in the end, Ash gave in. It wasn’t her place to tell them Ronan wasn’t gay. She found his father easier to get on with than Ronan had suggested, though his views on everything appeared alarmingly extreme.

  “Do you ever sit on the fence?” Ash had asked, and he looked at her as though she’d sprouted horns.

  “What would be the point in that? I’m a circuit judge. Life’s all about making decisions. Some of them hard, but they have to be made.”

  Ash wondered if Ronan’s mother ever got to have a say in anything. His father was like a tidal wave, and Ash didn’t like being swamped or watching others submerge.

  “How do you feel about people who don’t have the same view as you?” Ash asked. “Candidates for being hung, drawn and quartered?”

  Now it was Ronan kicking her.

  “They’re entitled to their opinion. They’re just wrong.” His father raised an eyebrow, as if challenging her to disagree.

  “Do you believe in God?” Ash asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Euthanasia?”

  “No.” Ash didn’t miss the catch in his breath before he answered. The first sign of someone who wasn’t in complete control.

  “Capital punishment?”

  “No.”

  “Racial equality?”

  Ronan pinched her thigh.

  “Yes, and sexual equality.” His father smiled at her. “Though there are instances where equality is actually unfair. Women tennis players receive prize money well in excess of—”

  “Ash, would you come and help me find the bathroom?” Dee rose to her feet.

  A metaphorical pinch from Ronan’s mother and Ash accompanied her.

  As the door swung shut behind them, Dee turned to her. “Best not to get him worked up. His heart.”

  Ash was mortified. “I’m so sorry.” She gulped. “Is that why you wanted to see Ronan again after all this time?”

  “Not for Terrance, dear. For me. The doctor tells me I won’t see another year.”

  Dee gave her a tight, little smile and Ash sagged.

  “Coming face-to-face with your mortality puts things in perspective. I’ve found a strength these last couple of months that I didn’t know I had. Terrance, on the other hand, has finally shown a weakness. Did Ronan tell you why we haven’t spoken in ten years?” Dee asked.

  Ash shook her head.

  “His story to tell then.”

  “So, it’s not when you found out he was…er…?” Ash crossed her fingers behind her back and hoped she’d not misjudged this.

  “Gay?”

  Ash frowned. “If you know, what was all that about how long we’d been together?”

  “Because I had hoped he might be—ah well, I knew before he told me of course. He had far too much interest in the boy next door. Terrance didn’t take it well, but it might have been all right had it not been for the ‘incident’.”

  The incident that stopped him from speaking to his parents for ten years. Ash wondered if Ronan would ever tell her.

  “We’ll give them a bit longer. I’m hoping they manage to talk without biting each other’s head off.”

  Oh God. “Does Ronan know about his dad’s heart problem?”

  “Terrance doesn’t want Ronan to know, nor about me. He hates to think anyone would find him weak in any way. He only agreed to do this tonight because I begged him. I don’t often do that. Ronan is exactly the same as his father. Pigheaded. I’m surprised but delighted he brought someone with him. How did he persuade you?”

  “Thumb screws and the rack.”

  Dee laughed. “As controlling as his father too.”

  “Ronan is one of the nicest guys I’ve met. He’d rush to my protection in an instant. He’s like the brother I wanted but never had.” Ash took Dee’s hand. “I think you should tell him the truth about why you wanted to see him. He’ll make something up if you don’t. We’ll walk you back to the station and I’ll go on ahead with your husband. I won’t bring up global warming.”

  Dee laughed. “What a pity you two are only friends. I’d have liked you as a daughter.”

  Ronan shot Ash a suspicious look when they returned to the table, but she gave him a reassuring smile. Lack of communication was at the heart of so many problems. Most of what she listened to at the CAB was because people didn’t talk to each other or didn’t listen properly.

  As they left the restaurant, Ash hooked her arm into the arm of Ronan’s father. “It’s warm, isn’t it?”

  Even as the words came out of her mouth, Ash realized her mistake. By the time they reached the station, she’d been subjected to a lecture on why those scientists who believed in global warming were wrong. The changes affecting the Earth were due more to natural climatic adjustments than a result of the burning of fossil fuels. Terrance was such an overwhelming wave of a man, Ash could see how hard it would be for Ronan to talk to him, though Ronan could be just as domineering
. When they looked back, Ronan and his mother were a long way away down the road.

  “Is she telling him?” Terrance asked.

  Ash’s heart hiccupped. She opened her mouth and then closed it again.

  “I didn’t want him to come tonight just because she’s ill.” His jaw twitched. “I wanted it… I don’t want him to be…the way he is, but he’s my son and I love him.”

  Ash regretted her earlier dislike of Ronan’s father. She slid her hand into his and squeezed his fingers. “Tell him.”

  “What can I say?”

  “Exactly what you just said to me. Sometimes life isn’t a matter of choice. Ronan is who he is and nothing is going to change that. Life is short and precious. We should live it to the full.”

  Ash pulled away and went to stand in the entrance to the station, out of earshot. Ronan and his mother came up to his dad, and then Ronan threw his arms around his father. Ash held her breath until the embrace was returned and then she exhaled.

  One housemate down, two to go.

  That bit of meddling could have gone so wrong. Ronan was a lucky guy.

  Chapter Two

  Complete peace. It was only first thing in the morning that Ash felt as though the house belonged to her. She sat in the kitchen, cradling a mug of black coffee, listening to nothing. No water running, no one clattering up and down the stairs, no music playing.

  Beeeeep. Beeeeep. Beeeeep.

  Shhhit. Ash grabbed a dishcloth and ran out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. She slapped air up and down over the hall smoke alarm until it stopped shrieking and then dashed back into the kitchen to find two uninviting slices poking out of the toaster.

  Wails of annoyance sounded from upstairs and Ash winced. She opened the window to get rid of the acrid smell and then flicked the burnt offerings onto a plate. If her housemates wanted toast, there wasn’t enough bread left for her to burn fresh ones for herself. Ash tried to scrape off the worst of the black bits and the toast fell apart. She carefully buttered the fragments and smeared them with Marmite. Enough of the black, salty spread and she’d not notice the taste of charcoal.

  The door opened and Mike came in dragging his fingers through his shaggy, brown hair. “I’m beginning to wonder if your parents forgot to invite a fairy to your christening. Although maybe it’s us who’s cursed because we have to put up with you.”

  Ash sighed. “Sorry.”

  He smiled. “Hey, I’m kidding, little firestarter. That’s only the second time this week, so you’re getting better. And by the look of it, we don’t need a new toaster.” He flicked on the kettle and then gaped as he looked at her. “You’re not eating that?”

  “It’s fine,” Ash lied.

  Mike grimaced. “How’d it go last night? They pencil in a date for your wedding?”

  “They know Ronan’s gay.”

  Mike almost dropped the milk. “So why the fuck hasn’t he spoken to them for ten years?”

  “No idea.” Ash hadn’t asked.

  Mike snorted and poured two mugs of tea.

  “Anyone I know?” Ash sipped her coffee.

  “Nope. Her name’s Sharon. Don’t bother remembering it.” He grinned.

  Ash rolled her eyes and Mike left with the tea. He claimed he wanted a steady girlfriend, but Ash wasn’t so sure. If he did, he’d need to learn that women didn’t think a bag of chips in front of the TV was the perfect date. Ash rinsed her mug in the sink, threw away the rest of her toast and stared at the remains of the takeout Kay had ordered last night. She tsked then scraped the rice into the bin and put the plate in the dishwasher.

  In all Ash’s twenty-seven years, she’d always shared her accommodations with someone—parents, care homes, foster parents. She often wondered what it would be like to live alone, to come home from work and find everything exactly as she’d left it. Lonely, she guessed. Yet wasn’t that how she felt now? She shared a house with three friends who always seemed to have people staying—brothers, sisters, friends, lovers. Ash felt like an outsider. Maybe that would always be the case.

  On her way to the stairs, she passed Mike’s shoes, lying where he’d kicked them off, and she set them together on the mat. She’d resisted meddling on the way down only to capitulate on the way up. So much for her self-control.

  She ran up the last flight to the top floor and sat on her bed with her phone to check that she’d had no new messages and to read the text again.

  Something important to tell you. Garden at 10 on Friday? James x.

  Ash smiled. Something important to tell her, in a place special to both of them and sealed with a kiss. Yesssss. She smiled through her shower, smiled as she dressed, undressed and dressed again until she was satisfied with the way she looked. Little pink dress and makeup.

  By the time Ash went downstairs, the house was their house. She could hear Kay and Mike arguing in the kitchen. Ronan was on his way to the front door, gym bag over his shoulder, holding a slice of perfect toast, butter dripping onto the wooden floor.

  “Morning, Ash.” He grinned at her. “Thanks for the wakeup call.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Thanks for last night too. So today’s the day?”

  Ash groaned. “I thought you might have forgotten.”

  “You’re kidding. You’ve talked about this guy for weeks. We’ve bought popcorn for when you sit and tell us all about it. It’ll have to be tomorrow. Kay and I are working tonight. Nice dress. Good luck.”

  Ronan stuffed the last of the toast in his mouth and dashed out the door. He’d joined the gym where a guy he fancied worked then gone off the guy but not the gym.

  Mike wolf-whistled when Ash walked into the kitchen. “My God. Legs. Bre—”

  “Careful.” Kay tapped him on the head with her cereal spoon then glared at the spoon and wiped it on her T-shirt.

  “Do I look okay?” Ash asked.

  “James won’t recognize you,” Kay said.

  That wasn’t what Ash wanted. “Too much makeup?” Her confidence poured from a widening crack.

  “You don’t need it,” Mike said.

  Kay mock glared at her. “You’re so lucky. All that work outside in wind, rain and shine and your skin is perfect. I have to spend a fortune keeping spots under control.”

  Ash went back upstairs. If Kay got a zit on her face, it was as if the world had ended. The slightest blemish was subjected to a battle plan a general would be proud of. As Ash washed her face, she managed to spray water all over her dress. When she tried to dry it with her hairdryer, the material remained spotty. Shit. Ash gave up and changed into the blue dress she’d worn last night.

  She skipped downstairs and heard Kay singing in the bathroom. No sign of Mike, but on the kitchen table, along with dirty bowls and half-finished mugs of tea, were the words GOOD LUCK spelled out in cereal. Ash smiled, started to reach for the bowls and drew back her fingers. She’d probably tip milk all over her shoes.

  On her way out, Ash picked up her work bag holding her gardening gloves, hand tools and a sack for weeds, and headed for the bus stop. She told herself she’d grabbed the bag out of habit, but that wasn’t quite true. It was more of an excuse if James didn’t turn up, even though she’d look an idiot gardening in this dress.

  By the time she got off the bus, Ash fizzed with excitement. Eight months and two weeks since a guy had asked her out. No point counting the meal with Ronan. Eight months, two weeks and one day since she’d been out with a guy. Because what had seemed interesting in the bar had bored in daylight, though he’d never phoned, so maybe she was boring too.

  As Ash turned the corner onto Leopold Road, her heartbeat quickened. Excitement morphed into anxiety. There was nothing to fear on this suburban street, yet the memory of the time when there had been sent icy shivers trickling down her spine. For a brief moment, she was a small child coming home from school, dragging her book bag along the pavement, dragging her feet even more.

  When Ash’s throat began to close, she straightened a
nd picked up her pace. No such thing as ghosts. Nothing could hurt her now except herself, and she wasn’t going to let that happen. James asking her out would banish the last of the bad memories and make this street like any other. Better than any other because she’d have a happy memory of it instead.

  There was a gap in the line of identical detached bay-fronted houses where a dilapidated residence had been demolished. Now a communal garden bloomed in its place. Ash pushed open wrought iron gates and took in the lines of red dogwood, the beds of hellebores, colorful hollyhocks and morning glory. The gravel path wound in a figure eight from front to back of the plot with five wooden seats placed under juvenile trees. No one was here.

  Ash felt passionate about the conversion of brown space in urban areas into city gardens. In creating new life from old, beauty from ugliness, they offered a green oasis in a busy, concrete world. This was the seventh project she’d been involved with, though for her, the most difficult.

  Ash put on her gloves, picked up a few pieces of litter and then weeded around the base of two Japanese maples. It had been seven weeks since she’d met James. He’d been sitting at the back of this half-finished garden with his head in his hands. Ash had been struggling to shift a heavy stone, he’d walked over to help and then inexplicably cried. A word of comfort and James unraveled like a ribbon. His wife had died a year ago, she’d campaigned for the house to be demolished and this garden to be created, and he wished she’d lived to see it come to fruition. Ash had felt guilty it all hadn’t happened sooner.

  James joined the ragbag team of volunteers converting the site. He’d come to help after work, which encouraged Ash to stay when she’d have normally gone home. She quickly realized she no longer came to work on the garden—she came to work on James. Ash wanted to make his world bright again, to see him smile. Ash wanted everyone to smile.

  She’d spent seven weeks wondering if he liked her as much as she liked him.

  Six weeks hoping he saw her as more than someone to talk to.

  Five weeks wishing he’d ask her out.

  Ash waved and smiled when James pushed open the gate exactly on time. He looked immaculate in cream chinos and a blue, dress shirt. Ash had already smudged her dress. Damn. She took off her gloves and then blinked. He’d brought flowers. No one had ever given her flowers. Ash swallowed the lump in her throat as he approached. James had light brown hair and crinkly eyes and a huge grin on his face. He warmed her heart though he didn’t make it jump, but maybe that was a good thing. He was steady, dependable and kind. Ash thought that was what she needed.