FAST MOVIN' TRAIN

CHAPTER ONE

MARCH 1994

   Balanced on a plank fourteen feet above a polished wooden floor, arms laden with swags and tails, Mandy Radcliffe could think of better ways to spend a Monday morning. She drew a deep breath and edged slowly along to the girl poised on one of the stepladders supporting the plank, now wishing she'd hired a scaffolding platform.

   'Ready, Sarah? Grab this tail and attach it to the end of the batten.'

   'Don't know if I dare let go,' Sarah muttered, eyes wide, hands grasping the ladder so firmly, her knuckles were white. 

   'You'll be fine,' Mandy reassured, with more conviction than she felt. Why the hell had she told her client that height was no problem? 'I'll hold on to you while you press the Velcro in place. Whatever you do, don't look down. When we're finished I'll treat us to lunch at Brambles.'    

   She smiled as Sarah's face brightened. In spite of her recent engagement, Mandy knew her young assistant had a soft spot for the Brambles Italian waiter. Sarah secured the tail then Mandy positioned the swags, deftly curving and overlapping the plush red chenille as she worked her way along the wooden batten. She fastened up the right hand tail, tweaked it so the cream silk lining fell in soft contrasting pleats, and clambered down the ladder. She nodded with satisfaction. 'You can come down now. They're perfect. Let's hope Mrs Barn Conversion thinks so, too.'

   Sarah joined her. 'Wow! They're fantastic.'

   Mandy picked up the chunky plaited tie backs. She looped them around the floor length curtains and coaxed them to hang in neat folds. Red wasn't to everyone's taste, but her client had a passion for the sensual colour that featured in almost every room of the stunning mellow stone house.    

   The elegant room, with its solid oak floor, high ceiling and cathedral-style beams was a fantastic place for a party, if ever she saw one. The huge window, with its curved top, had been the entrance for hay wagons in the barn's previous life. It was the last one in the property to dress and by far the most challenging.

   'Wonder if I'll ever be able to afford a place like this,' Sarah said, echoing Mandy's own thoughts.

   'You might, if you win the pools.' Mandy packed her tools away. 'Right, let's get the car loaded. I'll leave the bill in Mrs B.C.'s office. She promised to pop in and pay us tomorrow.'

   Mandy waved goodbye to her client's cleaning lady and joined Sarah in the Range Rover. She drove down the rutted private lane and out onto the main street in the Derbyshire village of Rowarth. As they passed though the next village she silently counted the cottage windows she'd curtained in the last few years. Almost every dwelling in fact and some weekend retreats hidden away down country lanes.

***

   Over a glass of house red and a dish of seafood pasta, Mandy reflected on the success of the morning. Not a window for the faint-hearted, but one that would pay for a week in Malta. A trip away might give her flagging marriage a boost. Not that Mike acknowledged it was flagging. He did his own thing and by and large, she did hers. Truth be told, she'd rather have a week in Rome or Paris with a couple of her mates, but she'd get pressure from the kids about being unfair to Dad if she went off for a girlie week and left him to his own devices. Not only that, the trip was supposedly to celebrate twenty-five years of marriage. 

   'Sup up, Sarah.' Mandy shared the last of the carafe between them. 'If we don't get back to the shop soon, Carol will be pacing the floor.'

   Mandy settled the bill and the pair strolled through Pickford town centre. They stopped at Greggs to buy donuts for their afternoon break then headed towards the shop. Mandy looked up with pride at the red painted sign - Amanda Radcliffe Interiors - picked out in gold lettering. Her own business, built from scratch. First by working from home out of the spare bedroom and eventually renting the shop premises.  

   She'd developed her design skills during a short emigration to Canada where Mike had been offered a job in Calgary. He took the offer, too good to turn down, he told her. She'd disliked Calgary from the start. To combat the loneliness of being in a strange country she signed up for a soft furnishing course, discovered her talents, and began making drapes and cushions to sell.     

   She saw it as a way out and planned to earn enough money to go home and start again. Not to rely on Mike, who seemed to get a perverse kick from seeing her trapped and dependent on him. The rot set in their marriage, but they acknowledged each other for the sake of their three daughters. In 1982, after the third freezing-cold winter, she'd had enough and announced she was going home and taking their girls. Mike told her his contract was coming to an end and agreed to go with them.     

   They soon settled into their old lifestyle, reacquainted themselves with friends and bought another house. She put her business plan into action. Mike went back to his previous job and played bass guitar in his old band at weekends. To anyone observing them, Mandy knew they appeared to be a successful and happy family.

***

   Carol, her middle-aged assistant, standing in the sales room with her coat on, handbag over her arm and lips pursed tighter than a cat's arse, was looking pointedly at her watch.   

   'Sorry we're late, Carol,' Mandy began. 'The job took longer than I anticipated.'

   'They always do,' Carol grumbled, hooking a straggly grey curl behind her ear. 'I've emptied the display area like you asked and given the window a damn good clean. It was proper mucky. You could hardly see through it.'

   'I'll brew up,' Sarah announced, disappearing into the tiny kitchen at the rear of the shop, but not before making faces at Carol behind her back.

   Mandy stifled a grin. 'Thanks, Carol. We'll get cracking on another display this afternoon. I'll use some fabric from the new supplier.'

   'Well - I'll be off then. I'm taking Mother to the podiatrist at two-thirty. I needed to get away a bit sooner really.'

   'It's only half-one. You've plenty of time.'

   Carol waddled towards the door. 'Oh, by the way,' she called over her shoulder, 'Rod Davies rang. Said he'll call back later.'

   Mandy watched as Carol left the shop. She felt a bit mean at times, always taking Sarah on the fittings. But Carol couldn't stand heights. She was petrified of going any further than the second rung of a stepladder.   

   Sarah appeared with the coffee. 'You'd never think Carol's a similar age to you. She looks about sixty. You don't look a day over thirty-five. No one would ever guess you were a grandma.'     

   Mandy smiled, thinking of her two little grandsons. 'Carol and I were in the same class at school. She's nearly forty-six. She doesn't have much time for herself, with looking after her mother, and that older fellow she married. That's why she likes coming in here. It's a nice break for her, and she does a brilliant job, hand-finishing the curtains.'

***

   The phone rang at three-thirty. Mandy climbed out of the window space to answer. Sarah was out sourcing silk flowers and baskets for the new display.

   'Mandy, it's Rod,' a softly spoken male voice told her.

   'Hi, you.' She smiled into the receiver. 'What's up?'

   'Err, you free tonight by any chance?'

   'I've some paperwork to do when I get home. I can be free around nine. Is that alright?' 

   'That's great. Is Mike going out?'

   'Yep, he's rehearsing. Did you want to see him, too?'

   'No,' he replied, 'just you.'

   'Okay. Jenny coming with you?'

   'No. I've got a bit of a problem. I need to talk to you - alone.'

   'Is something wrong? With Jenny, I mean. She's not ill?'

   'No, no, everything's fine. Well - not fine, but Jenny's okay. I'll explain tonight.'

   'Sounds mysterious. See you later then.'

   'You will. Bye.'  

   She hung up, frowning. Rod had sounded a bit agitated. Not his usual jokey self. And why did he want to see her alone? She hoped nothing was wrong with Jenny. Maybe she was ill and he didn't want to break the news over the phone. But then, surely he'd have wanted Mike to be there, too.

   The shop bell interrupted her thoughts. Sarah waltzed in with her arms full of flowers and wicker baskets and two-hours later the window sported a fine display of the new spring stock.  

   Mandy went outside to take a look. The fabric lengths, draped at the back of the window, and piped and frilled cushions, set amongst baskets of silk flowers, looked good. Hopefully get her clients thinking about freshening up their conservatories.

***

   Mandy pulled onto the drive of her Edwardian, semi-detached home, still wondering about Rod Davies's earlier call. Ah well, she'd find out what his problem was soon enough. She grabbed her briefcase and let herself in. Welcoming barks and clattering claws on the varnished hall floor greeted her. Two brindle Boxers leapt up and down. She fussed them and let them out at the kitchen door. 'Anyone home?' she yelled up the stairs. She could hear the strains of Wet, Wet, Wet's, Love Is All Around, so someone was in.

   A door opened and a head popped over the balustrade, long, dark hair swinging.

   'Hi, Mum,' Nicole called.

   'Hi, love.'

   Nicole ran downstairs. 'You look a bit flustered, Mum. Had a busy day?'

   'I have. I'll take a quick bath then make dinner. Anyone else in to eat tonight?'

   'Just me. Louise is at her mate's. Dad come home, loaded his gear and went out. Said he'll eat at the pub before rehearsals. Actually, Mum, I'm not that hungry. I ate a huge lunch at college. I promised Becky I'd go round and help her bath the boys tonight. Leave you alone to have a bit of peace.'

   'That'll make a nice change.' Becky, her eldest, lived a few streets away with her partner Andy and their sons. 'There are sweeties in my handbag for the boys. Take them with you.'

***

   Mandy lay back in the bubbles. She felt annoyed with Mike for not waiting until she came home before dashing out. His indifference pissed her off at times. She wondered why she didn't divorce him. After almost twenty-five years, things were unlikely to improve. Maybe she was expecting too much. Most long-term marriages probably ended up as stalemate. Couples-barely tolerant of each others' needs-rubbing along because there was nothing else on the horizon. Divorce was expensive and soul-destroying. A case of better the devil you know for half of them. Mike was a good provider and a great dad. The girls adored him, he didn't treat her badly. But she felt bored, trapped and not special anymore. She'd loved him at first, or at least she thought she had. They'd been quite passionate together, but once it wore off it stayed off. These days he hardly ever reached for her, or she for him, for that matter. She simply couldn't be bothered anymore. What was love anyway? Just a word bandied around by singers, starry-eyed kids and Mills and Boon authors.  

   She thought again about the earlier strange conversation with Rod. She and Mike had been friends with Rod and his wife Jenny since their mid-teens. In fact, Rod asked her out a couple of times, but she'd been dating Chris, a boy she really liked, and had turned him down. Not that she didn't fancy Rod. She'd always had a soft spot for him. It was her that persuaded Rod to ask Jenny out when Chris complained he was sick of taking a gooseberry on their dates.

   She recalled now how Rod had refused at first, saying they had nothing in common. But he asked her out eventually and Jenny accepted. The pair seemed happy enough. When she and Chris split up, Mandy began dating Rod's best mate Mike. They'd been a happy foursome, inseparable. She and Mike were first to marry and Becky arrived six months later. Rod and Jenny followed suit. Their son James, and Becky, grew up like brother and sister. It seemed to Mandy that each time she announced another pregnancy, Jenny announced one shortly after. They had six kids between them.  

   Mandy climbed out of the bath and towelled herself dry. She unclipped her long dark hair and ran her fingers through to remove the tangles. She dabbed concealer under her blue eyes to hide her tiredness, stroked blusher on her cheeks and slicked her lips with red gloss that matched her nails.

   She pulled on black jeans, a red top with a low cut neckline and did a twirl in front of the mirror. Still slim, even after three kids, she was proud of her figure. A generous spray of her favourite perfume, Tocade by Rocha, and she was ready. Downstairs she made a cheese sandwich and opened a bottle of red wine. She ate half the sandwich, split the other half between the dogs, grabbed two wine glasses and carried them and her briefcase through to the front lounge. She settled down on one of the sofas, making a neat pile of invoices beside her. At exactly nine the doorbell rang. The dogs barked a welcome. She got up and shut them in the kitchen. Rod was dithering nervously on the doorstep, his bright blue eyes not quite meeting hers.

   'Come on in.' She took his leather coat, hung it on the hallstand and led the way into the lounge. She gestured to the cream sofas. 'Have a seat.'      

   'I don't want to disturb your work.' Rod sat down opposite her, stretching out denim-clad legs.

   'I've finished what I needed to do.' She gathered up the invoices and stuffed them back into the briefcase. 'Fancy a drink?'

   'Please.' He ran his hands through spiky brown hair, streaked with silver. Mandy thought it suited him. Very Rod Stewart, in fact. He took a swig of wine, sat back and half-smiled at her.

   He looked tired, had dark circles beneath his eyes, and was subdued. Mandy frowned. She was used to seeing Rod bouncy and full of life. He always laughed a lot, a complete extrovert and the total opposite to Jenny who was quiet and took everything so seriously. 

   They made small talk for a while then Mandy asked, 'How come you're not working?' Rod was normally drumming with his group. It was rare for him to be around on a Monday night.

   'Band's split up,' he told her. 'I'm joining a new one. Got a couple of weeks break and then I'm off south to East Sussex for the summer.'    

   'Bet Jenny's pleased.'

   He stared at her for a long moment. 'Oh - you know Jenny. Supportive of everything I do. Not!' he finished with sarcasm. 'She hates me being on the road. If she wanted a stay-at-home she should have married a bloke in a suit with an office job, like Mike.'

   'You two had a row? Is that what this is all about?' Mandy took a sip of wine. 'It's finally dawned on you that Jenny doesn't understand you.'

   Rod looked down at his drink. 'She doesn't,' he mumbled, 'understand me, I mean. Never has done. But then I guess I've never understood her either.'

   Mandy nodded. Once Jenny got her claws into Rod there was no way she was letting go. She took another sip of wine.

   'I need to tell you something, Mandy,' he began. 'It's, erm, not easy for me. It might wreck our friendship. But I'm gonna have to take that chance.' He came and sat beside her. 'I've carried it around with me forever. In here.' He patted his chest. 'In my heart - I mean. It won't go away. I can't handle it any longer.'

   She gripped the stem of her glass and drew a deep breath. She could feel her cheeks heating and something that felt like icy water trickling down her back. He was so close she could smell his aftershave, woody and masculine. The scent made her stomach flip. She focused on the dimple in his chin.

   'Mandy, look at me… please.'

   She swallowed hard and looked into his eyes, seeing something in their blue depths that she'd never seen before. 

   'You haven't a clue, have you?' he said softly.

   She shook her head. 'Rod, you're scaring me. What is it?'    

   'I'm in love with you,' he said.

***