Pitch Imperfect(13)

Ash banged a few glasses she was putting away and looked out of the window, brows furrowed. “Anjuli wanted to stay and talk to you, but with the storm hitting us early she had to rush home. It’ll take her forever to get there on her bike in this weather.”

“Bike?”

Ash tsked. “The madness of townies.”

* * *

The wind whipped Anjuli’s hair into her face, and each new gust made her bicycle wobble, regardless of how tightly she aimed it forward. When Ash had mentioned the coming storm she’d remembered her wide open windows and the little box with Chloe’s things that she’d fallen asleep curled around in the morning room. But where had she put it before leaving the house? Oh God, please let it be safely away from the windows! Everything she had left of Chloe was inside it, and if she lost it because of her useless trip to the village she would have one more thing she couldn’t forgive herself.

Anjuli relived the scene in the pub, gripping the handlebars and cursing herself. Why hadn’t she gone to Rob’s office to talk to him the way a normal person would?

Because you’re a coward Anjuli Carver, as yellow as butter and twice as thick.

Insulting Rob was bad enough, but how could she have been so rude to Councillor Hamish? Of course he would ask her to sing. He’d always asked her to sing. She never used to turn down performing at village festivals and Common Riding Balls. But she would never sing again.

Dr. Coren could prattle on about “time healing her sorrow and freeing her voice.” She knew why she couldn’t sing, and it wasn’t only grief. It was guilt.

She’d thrown away all of her own CDs and collaborations with other artists, avoided radio stations that might play her recordings, and binned all of her awards. The only reminder of her musical career she had kept was her Steinway. Its black and ivory keys provided tepid release but didn’t assuage her guilt. Nothing ever would.

The sky was almost as black as her thoughts, making the landscape on either side of the road appear vivid green. A long streak of silver-white lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a burst of thunder and a sudden heavy downpour. Anjuli gritted her teeth and forced herself forward. She wasn’t alone in her battle against the elements. A bedraggled Border collie had followed her out of town and he weaved in and out of sight, sometimes ahead, sometimes on the moor slightly behind her.

A large vehicle came towards her around the bend, its headlights on full beam. The driver was going too fast and he skidded in her direction. A loud bark, and before Anjuli could react, something nudged her back wheel and she hurtled onto the verge, hitting her hip when she fell. The farm truck sprayed water and dirt into the air, missing her by no more than a foot.

Dazed, Anjuli stared at the retreating truck, then shook herself out of it and looked at the Border collie who’d saved her. Mangy alright, and no collar around his neck so he was probably a stray. Handsome though, black patches over his eyes and most of his body, and what would be white hair, when clean, around his neck and torso. Stray or not, Anjuli patted his head and scratched him behind his ears. She would be splattered tomato if not for him.

“You’re getting the biggest bone I can buy, you brave, clever thing, and you’re going to the vet as soon as I find one.”

The collie gave her two-toned barks as she dragged herself to her feet. A quick inventory proved she wasn’t seriously injured, but the hip she’d fallen on was sore. Painful pricks of water beat down on her like daggers, harder by the second. She spat out the grit in her mouth. Earth, with a hint of diesel and sheep droppings. Lovely.

Anjuli had never felt so isolated as at that moment. There were no convenient cafés to nip into, no abundance of helpful passers-by or even grumpy, reluctant ones. No taxis to flag down and miles of empty moors in every direction. Well, she’d wanted to live the rural idyll and there was no use getting bent up like her bike because she’d got her wish. The collie leapt ahead as if scouting the road for danger, coming back every few seconds to bark at her. He really would be handsome if he got cleaned up and fed regularly. Maybe Ash could find a nice family looking for an energetic pet.

Or should she keep him? It would be nice to have another living being with her at Castle Manor. A friendly face to welcome her when she came home, a warm body to snuggle against while she read a book or watched a film or...Heaviness clenched her heart. She couldn’t be trusted to care for anything living again. She couldn’t even keep Chloe’s little box safe from the rain.

“It’s not near the windows,” she repeated feverishly, hoping her mantra would somehow make it true.