Steady, she tells herself. First things first.
Vince is making himself useful pouring drinks for anyone who doesn’t want fizz. He smiles over at her and gives a loud wolf whistle and a thumbs-up.
‘You scrub up well, Ms Lovell, even with the pox,’ he shouts.
Emily pulls a face. Everyone in the room has turned to look now. She puts her shoulders back, holds her head high and makes for his impromptu bar.
‘When does the man himself get here?’ she asks, helping herself to a tall beaded glass of pink grapefruit juice and tonic from Vince’s ‘Virgin Mix’ tray.
‘He’ll be making his big entrance soon. Gina says Colin’s told him we’re taking him over to George’s for dinner. They’ve been out all day. Your boss has been a star.’
As he finishes speaking, there’s a commotion at the door and Emily hears a familiar voice raised in surprise. ‘What the hell’s going on in my shack?’ Tristram bellows, coming into the room and gazing around.
The guests surge forwards to surround him and Vince starts them off in a version of ‘Happy Birthday’ that might actually rattle the windows. Tristram’s mouth is open in shock. His eyes are very bright as he looks from face to face, each one beaming with affection.
‘Good God,’ is all he says.
Colin is clearly very pleased with his efforts. He pats his new friend on the back enthusiastically and joins in the singing with gusto. When the first excitement has died down and Tristram has a flute of champagne in his hand, Emily slides up to Colin and whispers, ‘I need to talk to you.’
‘Pardon?’
She raises her voice and repeats herself.
‘Oh. What, now?’
‘Yes. It won’t take long.’
Colin grabs a brimming glass and follows Emily out onto the terrace. It’s empty of guests at the moment but it won’t be for long because Vince will soon be barbecuing, so she begins as soon as they’ve sat at a table.
‘I won’t beat about the bush, Colin. Please will you consider letting me work just the first half of the week in London, basing myself the rest of the week here in Pengelly? I could travel to the London office, stay over Monday and Tuesday, come back here Wednesday evening and work from home for the rest. I’ve thought it through. It would be cheaper for you even with a hotel for two nights—’
He holds a hand up to stop the frantic flow of words and Emily’s heart sinks. She’s blown it. But when she looks at her boss to try again, she sees he’s smiling.
‘Stop right there, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘I’ve already talked this through with Tristram. He’s pointed out how useful you’d be to us over here and how much your gran needs you. I’m already convinced.’
‘Really? Oh, he’s such a sweet man, and so are you, that goes without saying. Colin, I appreciate this so much that I don’t know what to say. I’ll go and thank Tristram, too, as soon as I can reach him.’
They lean sideways to look through the door of the restaurant. Tristram’s still in the centre of a group of his friends, regaling them with some sort of funny story, by the look of things.
‘And the weird thing is, I never even knew I was allergic to mushrooms,’ they hear him shout. Everyone guffaws.
Colin grins at Emily. ‘Well, I reckon this surprise party idea’s a success, don’t you? Anyway, I’m more than happy for you to be onsite for fewer hours, starting from right now. In fact I’ve had a lecture from the birthday boy today about doing the same myself, before I kill myself with over-work. I’ve decided to employ an office manager, and he or she will take up the slack and cover some of the jobs that we’ve been doing. Obviously not as well as us, but we can live with that.’
Emily lets her breath out in a sigh and leans back in her chair. All this worrying about what she’s going to say to convince him, and Colin’s made his mind up already. She feels quite giddy with relief. Is her talk with Andy going to be as easy? She sees Candice heading for him, a glass of champagne in each hand, and thinks probably not.
Julia taps Emily on the shoulder as she mentally rehearses what she’d like to say to Candice later. ‘Do you think May’s OK?’ Julia says, glancing over to where May’s emerging from the cloakroom, freshly lipsticked and powdered.
‘In what way?’
‘I’m not sure. She just seems a bit distant. She just asked me if I’d ever sell my cottage. Where does she think I’d go, for goodness’ sake?’
Emily wrenches her mind back from planning vitriolic barbs that will reduce Candice to a snivelling wreck, and tries to focus on her grandmother. ‘You don’t want to move, do you?’
‘Of course not. Unless …’
‘Unless what?’ Emily asks, when no more is forthcoming.
‘Oh, nothing. I like my life how it is, and if I didn’t, it’s none of May’s business. It seems as if the older she gets, the more she wants to keep an eye on us all. Now, who are you going to talk to first tonight?’
Emily glares at Candice’s back and imagines pushing her off those heels and into one of the trifles on the trestle table.
‘Watch this space,’ she says.
Chapter Forty
Emily is distracted from her mission to put Candice in her place by Ida, who wants to give her a hug and find out none too subtly what her future plans are. By the time Emily spots Andy again through the crowd, the canapés have been circulated and the barbecue is in full swing. May is holding court at the head of a long table, looking livelier than she’s done since her attack. Her eyes are bright with laughter and her fabulous dress suits her very well. She could easily pass for seventy tonight, thinks Emily, admiringly. Andy beckons her to the bench and trestle table where he’s just parked his wine glass.
‘I saved you a seat,’ he says, just as Candice shimmies over and sits down on his other side.
Emily freezes. To stalk off or to stay and do battle? No contest. She stays, taking the chair on Andy’s left.
‘So, are you over your spots, hun?’ Candice asks Emily, leaning round Andy to see her better and narrowing her cat-like eyes. ‘Oh, no, I can see you’re not. I hope they don’t scar. You’ll need to be careful.’
‘Thanks for the warning. I expect you know all about nasty diseases. Of childhood, I mean,’ answers Emily, smiling at Candice.
‘The second round of food’s nearly ready, according to Gina, so we’re going to have to eat again in a minute,’ says Andy, sitting forward so the others can’t see each other properly. He pours Emily a glass of merlot and tops up his own, ignoring Candice. Emily tries to tell him she’s driving but it’s too late. She’ll just have to leave it.
Emily hears him mutter ‘Play nicely’ to Candice under his breath. She seethes. Does he think she needs protecting?
‘Don’t forget you’ve promised me the first dance, precious,’ says Candice, taking a big slurp of her drink. ‘The band will be starting up soon, while we finish eating.’
‘I can’t remember saying anything about dancing.’
Candice dimples at him. ‘Must have been after the wine. You always forget things when you’re tiddly.’
‘But I didn’t …’
Emily turns to her neighbour on the other side, who happens to be Vi, and begins to chat to her, giving Andy a view of her back. This is beyond a joke. Candice is a vulture. Emily has a feeling she won’t let go without a tussle.
‘Ignore her,’ hisses Vi.
‘What did you say?’ The babble of conversation’s very loud now and Emily’s not sure if she heard correctly.
‘The woman’s an evil green-eyed witch. She’s not even a true blonde. Summer takes after her dad and Candice just bleaches her own hair to match. She’s got her claws into Andy good and proper. It’s you he’s got the hots for.’
All this is delivered in an undertone, but Emily gets every word this time, as Vi intends she should.
‘Really? I’m not so sure any more.’
‘Yes, really. Go get him, girl.’
‘Oh, Vi … but …’
&
nbsp; Just as Emily is about to question Vi further, the band begins to play a medley of gentle hits from the fifties, and conversation is difficult. Emily looks up as Gina starts to circulate with prawn kebabs and tiny fishcakes, but she’s lost her appetite. She puts her hands in her lap and watches the singer, crooning about getting no kick from champagne. I know the feeling, she thinks sadly. At the end of the table May has started to laugh, for some reason.
Andy’s not eating either. He seems to be as uninspired by the idea of food as Emily is, and yet it’s all delicious, and piping hot. She glances down just as Andy reaches for her hand under the tablecloth. Their fingers link together and he leans slightly towards her.
‘The only person I’m dancing with tonight is you,’ he murmurs.
Emily turns to face him. His eyes are dark and full of longing. Candice is looking daggers at her from the other side.
‘That’s fine by me,’ she answers, clearly, ‘so long as it’s not a fast one. I love slow dancing, especially in the moonlight.’
Candice opens her mouth to speak but seems to think better of it. She gets up from the table, picking her handbag up and slinging it over her shoulder. Afterwards, Emily still can’t decide if the other woman did it on purpose but as Candice turns to leave, her bag swings in a wide arc and demolishes both Andy’s and Emily’s wine glasses, tipping red wine over the table. They jump to their feet but it’s too late to stop the ruby-coloured river from flooding over onto their legs.
‘Oh. My. God! I’m so sorry,’ screeches Candice.
‘Come on,’ says Andy, grabbing Emily’s hand, ‘we need to get out of these clothes.’
‘You sweet-talking devil. I told you he was keen,’ says Vi. ‘But you’d better be quick. That dress looks a bit delicate.’
They rush towards the cloakroom. Gina sees them coming and takes in the situation immediately. ‘Follow me,’ she says, and leads them to her own bathroom. ‘Take that dress off, Em. And you,’ she points to Andy, ‘get out of those trousers.’
They do as they’re told, giggling now, even though Emily’s mortified at the thought that the wonderful dress could be ruined.
‘Give it to me,’ says Gina, reaching for the frock. She fills the bathroom sink with cold water and plunges the dress straight in, rinsing it very gently. As the wine turns the water pink, she lets the stained liquid out and adds fresh water. She does this five times, and in the end, Emily, wearing nothing but her best peach bra and pants set and the carefully draped pashmina, can see that the frock is at last clean.
‘Do the same with the trousers, Andy,’ Gina says, ‘and the shirt – it’s gone all over you. I’ll have to dash now, though. I want to get Dad to cut the cake next. Help yourselves to mine and Vince’s clothes, or whatever you else you need, although they’ll probably swamp you both.’
‘Thank you,’ calls Emily, but Gina’s already gone.
As Andy washes his clothes, standing at the sink in only his black boxers, Emily tries not to stare. His legs look longer even than she imagined, and his back is strong and well-muscled without being in any way beefy. She’s painfully conscious of her spotty legs that are now on show, but Andy’s too busy to notice. Finally, he’s happy that he’s got all the wine out.
‘It’s a good job I took my jacket off before we sat down,’ he says. ‘Are you OK?’
He takes Emily’s dress and his own clothes and hangs them over the bath, using the shower rail as a washing line. Emily smiles up at him.
‘Well, this is the first party I’ve been to where I’ve taken my clothes off in the bathroom with a man before I’d even had a drink.’
‘Do you usually wait till you’ve downed your first six pints then?’ he asks.
‘It’s well-known party etiquette. Stripping to your underwear when you’re stone-cold sober and covered with pock marks is a bit unsavoury, don’t you think? It smacks of desperation, somehow.’
‘Shall we get dressed in borrowed clothes or shall we just stay like this? I don’t mind the spots if you don’t care about my bandy legs.’
‘They’re not bandy,’ says Emily, unable to stop staring at his body.
Andy comes over to Emily and takes her very gently by the shoulders. ‘Let’s pretend there’s nobody out there and carry on where we left off last time.’
He reaches round her and locks the bathroom door. Emily slips her arms around his neck, accidentally letting the pashmina slip to the floor. She looks down at it, feeling very exposed.
‘Leave it,’ Andy says quietly. When he kisses her this time, the only distraction is the second loud rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ from the other side of the building, but Emily is oblivious. When they surface for air, Andy strokes her face so tenderly that she wants to cry. She tries her best not to. A runny nose would really be the final touch.
‘You’re beautiful, Em,’ Andy whispers, kissing the tip of her nose, which has somehow escaped the spots.
‘Really?’
‘Yep. Warts and all. Or blisters, anyhow.’
She pokes him with a finger. ‘It’s not funny being this hideous. Anyway, I’m glad you like me even though I’m spotty, because I’m sticking around. I need to talk to Colin more, but I think it’s pretty much sorted for me to work here half the week.’
Andy’s speechless. He hugs her so tightly that she thinks she might expire before she gets a chance to finish her sentence. Untangling herself, Emily leans back to look at him.
‘This is all happening a bit too quickly for me,’ she says. ‘I don’t want to be a wet blanket, but we’ve got a lot of talking to do.’
‘Talking’s overrated,’ Andy says, moving in to kiss her again.
At that moment, there’s a loud banging on the door. ‘Come on out of there, Andy. You’re missing the party, hun,’ shouts Candice.
Emily pushes Andy away, and he sighs.
‘Let’s find something to wear and go and join the rest of them,’ she says. ‘I want to see May before she suddenly decides she’s tired and has to leave. She told me she’d not stay late. And Tristram wants to talk to me too, or so Colin says.’
‘You’re in big demand tonight.’ Resigned to his fate, Andy’s rootling through Vince’s wardrobe now. He tries on a pair of jeans but they hang off him so he finds some stretchy jogging pants and a T-shirt instead.
Emily has a similar problem with Gina’s clothes but a long shirt with a belt round the waist makes a sort of dress, and they’re ready to face the world again.
‘I just want to say, before I go out there and get mobbed by all the women when they see my sexy new look, that I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to meet you, Em. I promise I’ll never let you down if you ever give me a chance to get to know you properly.’
Emily slips her sandals back on and fluffs up her hair. She smiles up at him. ‘Just so long as you promise me one other thing too.’
‘Anything.’
‘Never, ever wear tracksuit bottoms like those again, OK? Right, let’s go.’
Chapter Forty-One
May drains her glass of bubbly and glances around the crowded room. She’s not seen either Emily or Andy for a while, which might be a good sign, but just as she’s feeling hopeful that romance could be in the air, she sees the two of them emerge through a door at the back of the room, looking flustered, and far less smart than usual. That Candice is hanging around outside. Does the woman never give up?
‘Emily,’ she calls, getting to her feet, ‘have you got a moment?’
Fortunately, there’s a break in the music just as May raises her voice, and Emily hears and responds immediately.
‘Shall we go over and sit in one of the alcoves?’ she says, taking May’s arm.
May makes no protest at being supported across to the quietest corner. She’s very tired now. There has been a chance to chat to all her favourite people and she’s even managed to get a jibe in at That Candice, although the woman’s so thick-skinned she probably didn’t even realise she was being insulted.
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‘What’s the problem, May? Did you need me?’ Emily asks, as they sit down side by side and both heave sighs of relief.
‘I just wanted to say good night, dear,’ says May. She leans on Emily and takes her hand. ‘Colin says you’re staying on in the village, is that right?’
‘Yes, I’m so excited about it all. Living in Pengelly will be brilliant.’
‘Near to your gran … and Andy and Tamsin?’
‘Ah, that’s the only part of this that bothers me. What if Gran and I drive each other crazy living under the same roof all the time?’
‘I shouldn’t waste too much time worrying about that,’ says May, squeezing Emily’s hand. ‘Things can change.’
‘What do you mean? Hey, you’re not matchmaking too, are you? I’ve already had Vi on my case. I’m not about to move in with Andy. I hardly know him.’
May doesn’t reply. The music seems to be getting louder and her head is beginning to spin. It might be the champagne, or it could be the power of her thoughts.
‘Have you had enough partying?’ asks Emily, after a few moments. ‘I can run you home if you like? I’m about on my knees, too. The chickenpox … and everything … have made me really pathetic.’
‘No, thank you, dear. You need to stay here and make sure that woman doesn’t try anything else on with Andy. Men are so weak sometimes, even the best ones.’
‘If you’re sure. I’ve got to make sure Gran gets home safely, too.’
‘Just call me a taxi, if you would. Here’s the number.’ May rummages in her bag. ‘It’s a friend of mine in Mengillan. I warned him he might be needed. He’ll be here in ten minutes and he’ll see me inside safely.’
‘Well, if you’re sure?’
May nods, and Emily fishes for her phone and makes the arrangements.
‘Just one more thing. I’m too exhausted to go all round saying goodbye to everyone and I’ve already had a good old chin wag with Tristram, but could you just send your gran over for a minute or two?’
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