Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange

Helen was so different. So separate from the life he was trying to leave behind him. He was tired of wishing he didn’t enjoy her company, of thinking about her when he woke up, and all the other signs he knew meant he’d fallen for her.
Helen deserves far better than me.
Tom stifled a sigh. He knew Helen felt the same about him, but neither of them mentioned it. They just carried on as if they were good friends who happened to work together.
Maybe if I tell her about Sue, Helen will see I’m no good for her?
‘Meeting Sue was not my finest hour.’
‘And yet you have Dylan, so don’t tell me you wish her away.’
Smiling despite himself, Tom wiped some ale foam from his lips. ‘There you have me. If Dylan hadn’t come along, I’d have moved on and left my past behind as I always had before, but, as you say, I’d not be without my son.’
‘And who’s to say that, if you hadn’t had Dylan, you’d have calmed down? You may not even have realised your passion for archaeology, but carried on moving from poorly paid job to poorly paid job, never finding your calling.’
‘That’s true.’
‘And you wouldn’t be here in this lovely pub, doing the best job in the world.’
Tom could feel the unspoken, ‘and we’d never have met’ hanging in the air as he said, ‘I have a great deal to thank Dylan for.’
Helen grinned as she remembered the proud expression on Tom’s face when he’d bounded into the kitchen with Mabel’s groceries that afternoon. When he’d said Sue had been, her heart had stopped for a second – immediately assuming his good humour was because they were going to attempt reconciliation for their son’s sake. Helen’s moment of sadness, however, had been replaced with a rush of pride for Dylan, as Tom had told her about his reading prowess. ‘I’m so pleased his talent for English has been noticed at school.’
‘Me too. I can’t wait to tell Bert and Mabel tomorrow. I’m hoping the news will cheer Bert up a bit.’
‘Why didn’t you tell Mabel earlier?’
‘I wanted to tell you first.’ Tom took another sip of beer, not looking at Helen as he realised what he’d said, hastily adding, ‘All that reading you’ve done with Dylan when he’s been here must have helped him.’
‘I enjoy it. He’s a great kid.’ Helen smiled as she thought of the five-year-old’s cheeky face.
‘The thing is,’ Tom’s eyes dropped to the table as he spoke, ‘Sue and I only stayed together beyond a drunken one-night stand because she got pregnant. It was a disaster from the start, but we tried, for Dylan’s sake. The trouble is, the more we tried, the more we hated that we had to try. It soon disintegrated into resentment and hate. In the end…’ Tom’s eyes flicked to the empty fireplace, unsure if he should be as honest as he ought to be ‘… we both cheated on each other and the situation became insupportable.’
‘I see.’ Helen stared into the pale liquid remaining her glass.
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Tom moved the conversation on. ‘When Sue moved to Tiverton, I wasn’t that surprised. She was always relocating from one home to another, with whoever was the man of the moment.’
‘Hence you giving up your job with the Wiltshire Archaeology Trust and coming here. So you could be near Dylan.’
‘Yes.’ Tom risked a glimpse at Helen. A coil of red hair had flopped over her eyes as her unruly curls shone in the pub’s low lighting. ‘But this time it was different. Rather than leave Swindon to follow a man, she left to have a new, more independent, start. One where Dylan could settle at school and stay there until his education was complete.
‘I didn’t believe Sue when she told me that at first. I assumed she was running away from something and using Dylan as an excuse. But then I saw how tidy their home is, rather than the usual bombsite, and how smart and clean Dylan’s school uniform was and, well…’
‘You think she really does want to give Dylan the secure start in life she didn’t have?’
‘What makes you think she didn’t have one?’
‘Educated guess.’
Tom drained the last few centimetres of ale. ‘So, as I said, she wants to see me for a proper talk about Dylan’s future, and me seeing more of him.’
‘That’s good.’
‘It is.’
Helen’s forehead crinkled. ‘You don’t sound sure.’
‘I can’t shift the feeling that, even though Sue has definitely changed of late, this is a roundabout way of getting something she wants.’
‘Such as?’ Helen’s throat went dry. She wants you back so you can be mum and dad to Dylan together.
‘I have to presume more money, but as I don’t have any that isn’t a wish I can grant – even if I wanted to.’
‘It might not be that. Maybe Sue really has realised that Dylan would be better off having two hands-on parents, albeit living in different locations?’
‘Perhaps.’ Tom stood up with his empty glass in hand. ‘Do you want another drink?’
Helen shook her head. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’
Watching Tom’s back while he chatted to Moira, the landlady, across the bar, Helen told herself off for jumping to conclusions. Although Tom was bound to be suspicious of his former partner, there was no reason for her to assume Sue wanted him back.
It’s nothing to do with me. Tom and I are friends. End of. If he wanted me to be more than that, he’d have made a move by now.
Tom returned to the table and, with a feeling of sadness she couldn’t shake, Helen asked, ‘When’s Dylan staying here again?’
‘Weekend after next if Sue is sticking to the plan we currently have. Depends if we meet up before then and alter things.’ Tom’s belly gave a voluble growl. ‘Oops, sorry!’
‘You can’t be hungry.’ Helen laughed. ‘You had more lasagne than anyone.’
‘Are you implying I’m greedy, Miss Rogers?’
‘No, I’m implying you have hollow legs! Where on earth do you put all