Mystery at Meadowbank Cottage An original story written and performed by Stephanie Poppins Music by my brother John Miles Carter Chapter 12 It had been a long day and Tuesday St.
Clair was sitting snuggled up in bed with her journal in one hand and her herbal tea in the other.
Having checked in with her brother Justin about the finances and paid the various bills,
It was time to settle down for the evening.
Have you finished Spikey?
She called.
Come and sit with Mummy.
The little black kitten ran up the stairs to join her.
Come on then,
She reassured him,
Up on the bed,
Let's get snug.
Purring loudly,
Spike jumped up and tunnelled his way up her long sleeve.
That tickles,
Tuesday chuckled,
But she made no attempt to move him.
Placing her tea out of harm's reach,
She began to write.
I lit a candle for you tonight,
Mum,
And the kitchen smelled of the rain coming in off the garden.
For a moment I could have sworn you were just in the next room.
I still reach for the phone to ring you sometimes.
I suppose I always will.
I had a long call with Justin this afternoon.
He sounded tired.
Not the ordinary kind of tired that a good night's sleep sorts out,
But the bone-weary kind.
You used to notice that in him before anyone else did.
You could always read him better than he could read himself.
I think the city's swallowing him whole.
He talks about it in a clipped way,
That dismissive way men do when they don't want you to worry.
But underneath it all,
I think he's just fraying at the edges.
I wish you were here to say the right thing.
I never know to say quite the right words.
The good news,
If I can call it that,
Is he's aware of it at least,
And he's been trying to talk to Betsy about going to the lodges for the weekend.
I think it's a lovely idea and I told him so.
But you know Betsy's stuck to her routines and her commitments,
At least the things she feels she's supposed to be doing.
She hasn't said no outright yet,
And Justin's working up a way to ask her again.
I didn't tell him what I was thinking.
I suppose Betsy needs the break just as much as he does,
But she wouldn't say it.
You've got to know how to speak to him without causing offence.
He loves her,
But he has to find a way to stick up for himself.
Miss you terribly tonight.
All my love,
Always.
Tuesday.
Tuesday settled back to relax.
But it wasn't long before a knock came at the door.
Three sharp raps she recognised before she'd even closed her journal.
Hugging her knees,
Tuesday thought quickly about what she could do.
There was old man Bucket she could call him,
But he would be fast asleep.
Then there was Jonathan,
But she didn't really want to bother him.
Oh well,
Needs must.
She snatched up her phone and dialled his number.
It was dark outside,
But this was an emergency.
No amount of magic could save Tuesday St Clair from Robert Schafe.
It rang and rang,
But to Tuesday's disappointment there was no reply.
Perhaps Jonathan was at the pub.
Maybe he was on a date.
Stop it Tuesday,
And work out what to do,
She chastised herself.
Climbing out of bed,
She shuffled down the curled staircase in her slippers and opened the door with the chain still on.
Robert looked smaller than she remembered,
But maybe she was comparing him to Jonathan.
She'd been building him up as a monster for so long.
The real version was completely different.
This man was thinner.
His cheekbones now looked like something had eaten them from the inside.
And he was holding his keys in both hands,
Shivering and turning them over and over.
Hey,
He said.
Absolutely not,
Said Tuesday.
I just need.
.
.
Robert,
No.
It's okay,
I'm in recovery.
He rushed his words the way people rush their words when they're not quite sure of what they're saying.
It's been eight months.
I've been doing the programme and there are people I can talk to and.
.
.
I know what the programme is,
Robert.
I held your hand through it more than once,
Remember?
Robert was surprised to see Tuesday wasn't quite as compliant as he was used to her being.
Then you know that I've got to do this,
Don't you?
Well,
You don't have to do it here.
Tuesday felt a sudden surge of anger.
What was it with men?
As soon as they wanted something,
Everyone had to snap to attention.
Well,
What about what she wanted?
She'd wasted the best years of her life on this man and his promises.
You don't have to do it on my doorstep at nine o'clock at night.
Why are you here,
Robert?
Robert looked down at his keys again and the turning stopped.
I drove all the way from Harrogate.
I've been staying there.
I didn't plan to stay there.
I just thought if I could talk to you.
We don't have anything to talk about.
Tuesday hated her name in his mouth.
She hated herself for feeling anything at all when he said it.
I'm not asking to come in.
I'm not asking for anything from you.
Just ten minutes.
Tuesday stood at her doorway for a long time.
The porch light was making Robert look more yellow than she remembered him.
You've got nowhere to stay?
Robert didn't deny it.
Look,
There's the lodge in the field next door.
It's heated up and there are clean sheets in the cupboard.
You can stay there tonight.
She held up her hand.
But Robert,
You must leave in the morning.
We're done.
Tuesday didn't sleep at all that night.
She lay in the dark listening to the old house settle around her.
And when the clock on the bedside table read 1.
17,
She heard footsteps on the gravel path.
Next to her,
Spike was wriggling around.
Even he knew something was wrong.
She was at the window before she knew she'd even moved.
There was a figure crossing the lawn.
His shape was unmistakable even after all this time.
The knock sounded apologetic.
Tuesday?
The voice was muffled.
I just want to talk,
Please.
Tuesday stood in the dark and didn't move.
I know you're awake.
I can see the light under the door.
But there was no light under her door.
Tuesday almost laughed.
Robert's shape was up to his tricks again,
Pulling on her heart strings.
Just wasn't fair.
Robert,
Go back to the lodge,
She said.
But her voice was much steadier than she felt.
Five minutes.
I've got things I need to say.
I can't rest when it's like this between us.
Between us?
The man must be joking.
She hadn't seen him for months.
I said all I had to say,
Robert.
You said nothing,
Tuesday.
You said nothing.
You opened your door.
It still had the chain on it.
You pointed to the garden shed and.
.
.
I'm not doing this.
Tuesday felt something like fury rush into her chest.
I'm not doing this in the middle of the night.
I'm not.
Half an hour later,
She could still hear him moving outside.
Then she heard another familiar voice.
It was Jonathan.
He was coming through the side gate,
Still in his jacket,
Keys in hand.
He'd obviously had a late one.
Tuesday Sinclair thought she couldn't remember being so pleased to see anyone since her parents died.
Jonathan took in the scene the way he took in most things.
Quietly and carefully.
And there was Tuesday on the step with a man she didn't want to talk to,
She said.
And yet here they were.
Everything all right,
Tuesday,
He said.
No,
Robert was just going,
She said unexpectedly.
Robert Schafe.
Long time no see.
Robert,
Meanwhile,
Had that look on his face he always had when he was shamefaced.
But why?
It was because he wasn't supposed to be here.
Only Jonathan didn't know that.
I think it would be better if you stayed out of this jail,
He said.
Recovery or not,
Tuesday thought,
Some things don't dissolve in eight months.
I'll go back to the lodge now,
He said bitterly.
And we'll speak in the morning tea.
Tuesday wasn't quite sure what was going on between the two men.
But now she really needed to know.
This looked like far more than just jealousy.
Robert Schafe shuffled away slowly like a sulky child.
All the performance gone out of him.
Whilst Jonathan stood in the gateway and watched him cross the lawn and entering the neighbouring field and his lodge.
You OK,
He said softly.
But he could see Tuesday looked far from that.
Do you want a drink,
He said.
You look like you could do with one.
That night,
Tuesday and Jonathan sat together at the kitchen table.
Tuesday opened the aga door to keep them warm and Jonathan held out his hands like he did as a child when his mother did the same thing.
She could see he liked it in this kitchen.
I've got some wine if you'd like,
She offered.
Sure,
Why not,
He said with a smile.
You don't have to explain anything.
As long as you're OK,
Tuesday.
I know,
She said defiantly.
Of course I don't have to explain anything.
But I suppose it's time we talk things out,
Jonathan,
Don't you think?
Things?
The past.
Tuesday looked down at the floor.
It was embarrassing bringing this up.
But it was necessary all the same.
I suppose you're right,
Said Jonathan awkwardly.
But what happened then?
What do you mean what happened?
You're the one who never got back to me.
Robert's not the man he claimed to be,
Tuesday said simply.
As it turns out,
He never wanted to be the man he claimed to be.
He loved you,
You know.
I think he still does,
But that doesn't mean much.
Well,
He followed you to university,
Didn't he?
That seems like a lifetime away now.
Something shifted in Jonathan's expression.
An almost imperceptible flicker.
What is it?
Said Tuesday.
If you've got something to say,
You might as well say it,
Jonathan Green.
Jonathan paused for a moment.
I might as well tell you.
There's something I need to tell you and I've wanted to tell you for a long time.
But I didn't know how.
I wasn't sure what it meant.
Tuesday looked at him straight on.
I'm listening.
Robert and me,
Robert and I,
Jonathan said carefully.
We were friendly,
Years back,
As you know.
Not close friends,
But mates,
You know.
He'd mention you,
I'd mention you.
That kind of thing.
Then there was the end of year play.
That really was something,
Wasn't it?
I thought so,
Said Tuesday.
I wanted to ask you out after that.
I wanted to ask you to dinner.
After the time we spent,
I just.
.
.
Tuesday sat very still.
So,
Why didn't you?
Robert told me you weren't interested.
Jonathan's voice came out very even.
But there was something careful underneath it.
Something he was holding on a very short leash.
He said he talked to you and you didn't want to be tied up with someone that would hold you back.
He said university was the best thing for you and that I should respect that.
Nobody said you didn't.
The kitchen went silent.
That man,
Said Tuesday.
Right.
So,
Was he telling the truth then?
No,
He wasn't.
I never said such a thing,
Said Tuesday indignantly.
Well,
As you know,
I backed off then.
You backed off pretty fast.
You could have asked me,
Said Tuesday.
She looked at Jonathan for a long time.
And what happened then?
She said.
Then I heard that Colleen was around looking for me.
And I thought I must have read the whole thing wrong.
So,
We just kind of came together after that.
Came together?
Colleen was never right for you.
She fell pregnant.
She lost the baby at four months.
But it wasn't mine.
What do you mean it wasn't yours?
It was Robert's.
Tuesday went cold.
I felt sorry for her.
They'd spit up by then,
The two of them.
And she was in pieces.
She told Robert she couldn't get through it without him.
And that she needed him to be there.
But he just ran after you.
Tuesday looked out into the dark garden.
I guess I'm a sucker for a sob story.
I guess you are,
Said Tuesday.
How could you marry Colleen knowing that?
She was finished.
She needed somebody to pick her up.
And I thought it was for the best.
We could have a family,
Start over.
As it turned out,
She had no intention of getting pregnant again.
Tuesday stood up and went to the window.
The lodge in the adjacent field was dark now.
That small square building at the edge of her property housed a person she never ever wanted to see again.
I think you should have told me,
She said.
You should have told me at the time.
I think you're probably right,
Said Jonathan.
But what's done is done and I can't say I'm sorry for it.
It's just the way it was meant to be.
Oh right,
You're not sorry.
But what can I say?
We all make mistakes.
Tuesday shook her head in disbelief.
I think you better go,
Jonathan Green.
I've heard more than enough for one night.
And as Spike ran down the stairs to meet her,
Jonathan got up,
Finished his wine,
Then promptly left.
