She knew what he’d been thinking, didn’t she? How heartwarming a thought that was.
‘What did she say?’ Xander asked.
‘What you’ve just said, and that she was going to give it some more thought, read up on egg donation and see if there was a way she could accept it.’
‘You’re not just saying that?’ Xander asked. ‘To make me feel better about it?’
‘No. Why would I?’
‘Sorry. Scratch that. Heart’s on my sleeve at the moment.’
‘Best place sometimes,’ Lissy said. ‘We all know where we are then, don’t we?’
And where are we? Xander wondered. You and me, Lissy? Were they ready yet to start a relationship that goes from being friends because Claire was Lissy’s friend, to something more?
‘You okay?’ Lissy asked.
‘Yeah, yeah. Fine. Well, getting there. Thanks, you know, for your understanding and being so honest. We’ve cleared the air a bit, haven’t we?’
‘We have. I don’t know if we’d have had this conversation if poor Janey hadn’t had the terrible shock she had and opened up about her truths, so …’
Lissy left it at that, spreading her arms wide as though to say that’s all been done and dusted and nothing else needs chewing over now, as it were.
‘So,’ Xander said, ‘before those two women in your sitting room starve to death is there anything else I can do to help get dinner on the table?’
‘In a sec, yes.’ She opened and closed a few cupboard doors until she found what she was looking for – a huge glass bowl into which she began tipping bags of mixed leaves. ‘Could you slice the cucumber, very thinly, while I skin the tomatoes? I can’t abide tomato skins.’
Now there’s a thing! Xander couldn’t bear tomato skins either. Could people bond over their mutual hate of tomato skins? Hmm.
Chapter 12
Bobbie
‘That, Lissy, was wonderful,’ Bobbie said. ‘No one would know you’re not a professional chef, Cordon Bleu trained.’ She didn’t think she was going to be able to move for at least half an hour and she hoped no one would suggest she did. She rarely ate a quarter of the portion size Lissy had put in front of her that evening – each plate of food more delicious than the one before. It was a mercy she didn’t have a modelling assignment to go to until after the New Year, but she couldn’t be certain of that. Sometimes another older model booked for a magazine shoot or an advert would pull out at the last minute and Bobbie would step in. It was what she was known for – her availability and her reliability. Well, with no one else in her life to consider it was all too easy for her to drop anything she was doing and fly off to Paris or Barcelona or drive down to Kent or wherever. She crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t get one of those calls until she’d worked off whatever weight she was going to put on here in Strand House.
‘Cordon Bleu?’ Lissy laughed. ‘More Giorgio Locatelli and Jamie Oliver! And recipes ripped from the cookery section of Sunday newspaper supplements.’
‘Wherever,’ Bobbie said. ‘You’re a dark horse, hiding your light under a bushel. No one would know looking at your Facebook page and your Instagram and all the foodie pictures you put up that make me drool just to look at them, that you were an accountant.’
‘And that’s the way I want it to stay,’ Lissy said. ‘It’s not the most exciting of professions, is it? I mean, we aren’t doctors saving lives. We’re not singers of soul music that soothes people’s minds. Besides, people want favours done once they find out I’m an accountant sometimes. I’d like a ten-pound note for every time on a first date, once I’ve said what I do for a living, that it suddenly seems okay for me to offer my services for free in exchange for the meal we’re eating. Besides, social media is all smoke and mirrors. Few of us are our true selves on there, are we?’
‘I’m not!’ Bobbie laughed. ‘You’ve all been kind enough not to say you’ve noticed but my avatar photo was taken in Bali when I was thirty-five. I’ve not revealed my age, so who’s to know?’
‘I know what you mean, Lissy, about smoke and mirrors,’ Janey said. ‘I only use one of my paintings or a photo of flowers or something as my avatar. I’m going to have to … no, forget it.’
‘Forget what?’ Bobbie said. They’d had a conversation earlier in the sitting room while Lissy and Xander were getting supper ready and Janey had said she’d consult a solicitor once Christmas was over and get her brother-in-law to go with her to fetch her computer and any other things she wanted taken out of the house she’d shared with Stuart. She had her smartphone if she wanted to access the internet or get in touch with her sister. But she wasn’t going back.
Janey shrugged.
‘Look, sweetheart,’ Bobbie said, ‘you’re doing fine. So much has happened to you since this morning.’
‘I know. I’m trying to stay positive, I really am. But it’s hard.’
Bobbie had realised that. Every time there was a sudden noise, like a car backfiring, or a firework going off as had happened about an hour ago, Janey had jumped. She’d even jumped when Xander slid the plate with the pavlova Lissy had made across the table and it squeaked like a trapped mouse.
‘It’ll get easier,’ Lissy said. ‘I promise you it will.’
‘I hope so. Anyway, thanks all,’ Janey said, raising a now empty glass towards the others. ‘To friends and delicious food. And wine.’
‘To all of that,’ Xander said. ‘Hey! I’ve got an idea. We could play a game. Where we want to be in ten years’ time.’
‘Ten?’ Bobbie said. ‘Make that one, given my age! And even at that I think I’d like to still be able to stand on my four-inch heels. Yes, that’s where I’d like to be – still standing basically!’
The others all laughed and Bobbie was glad because Janey had been in danger of killing the good mood of the evening.
‘You next, Janey,’ Bobbie said. ‘One year from now.’
‘One year from now,’ Janey repeated, her voice firm, and Bobbie was glad to hear it after the whisper-like shakiness of it of earlier. ‘One year from now I’d like to be able to say I’ve sold some paintings. I’d like to travel further afield to paint. I mean, I must have painted Totnes castle at least twenty times and there’s another castle at Berry Pomeroy that I’ve never visited even though it’s only a couple of miles down the road from where I live. Now I’m by the sea I’d like to paint it in all its moods and in all seasons. And I’d like to be able to say I am making a living at it. And that I’m half way to being divorced.’
Bobbie reached for a bottle of Prosecco that was still half-full. She topped up Janey’s glass.
‘That’s my girl.’ She took a swig of her own drink and swallowed hard. That was the thing – she, Bobbie, was old enough that Janey could be her girl. ‘We’ll drink to that. Who’s next for future dreams?’
‘I’ll go next,’ Lissy said. ‘One year from now I hope I’ve been brave enough to follow my heart and do what I really love, which is cooking, and not what I’m doing now to please my dear, late dad. Not that he said I had to become an accountant and take over his business, although he was pleased I did. So … one year from now you could be eating at my restaurant. The House on the Strand has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’
‘Book me in,’ Bobbie said. ‘As long as you’ve got those savoury swirl things, and that salmon. What was the topping on that?’ Not that she was going to replicate it any time soon. She barely had time to put something in the microwave some days.
‘Pesto, breadcrumbs, fresh basil, and a dash of olive oil.’
‘Keep that recipe, then, because that will be a big seller on the menu. And the pavlova. It was to die for. That leaves you, Xander. Where, my darling, do you want to be?’
‘Me?’ Xander looked suddenly stricken that the spotlight was now on him. Or was it that she’d called him ‘darling’? Calling people ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’ was something people in the world she moved in did all the time. Perhaps only Claire had eve
r called Xander ‘darling’ and the memory had pierced his heart somehow.
‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ Lissy said before Bobbie could. She reached out and laid her hand on top of Xander’s. ‘Does he?’
‘No,’ Janey said.
‘Not one bit,’ Bobbie agreed. ‘But this game was your idea, Xander.’
‘So it was! So I’ll play fair. In one year’s time I’d like my business to be on a better footing than it is now. A much better footing. And I’d like to be able to socialise more because at the moment all my social life consists of is one night a week for quiz night at the Pier Inn. And, with a following wind, I’d like someone in my life to socialise with. And … this is probably too much information, but I’d be made up completely if there was a baby on the way. That last, of course, could be the wine talking!’
Well, well, well. This was a turn up for the books. Lissy’s hand was still on Xander’s and he’d turned to look at her as he spoke. Had she missed something? Had there been a subtle clue dropped here and there that Lissy and Xander knew one another rather better than Bobbie had thought they did, and she’d missed them?
‘Right, everyone,’ Lissy said, snatching her hand back. She began gathering the debris of the meal together. ‘I’ll just get this lot in the dishwasher and then make coffee.’
‘Not for me thanks,’ Bobbie said. She slid down off the bar stool, a tad wobbly from all the wine, but she hadn’t fallen over.
‘Nor me,’ Xander said. He held out an arm towards Bobbie inviting her to take it. ‘I’ll escort you to your room, madam.’
‘I’ll help you load the dishwasher and clear up,’ Bobbie heard Janey say as she and Xander left the room.
Chapter 13
Lissy
‘You don’t have to sleep in this room on your own, Janey,’ Lissy said, ‘if you’d rather not. There’s another room with twin beds at the back and I’ll be happy to share if it will make you feel more comfortable. You know, after everything’s that happened today.’
Janey had chosen the smaller of the two rooms she’d been offered. It had been Lissy’s room whenever she’d come to stay with Vonny.
‘I don’t think Stuart will come after me,’ Janey said. ‘He’s probably still not sober enough anyway.’
‘He wouldn’t be able to get in if he did,’ Lissy told her. ‘There are two bolts on the front door and a chain. All the windows have locks and the patio door is alarmed.’
Janey shivered.
‘Are you cold? I can turn up the central heating if you are?’
‘No. Not that. I was running a sort of scene in my head about Stuart trying to get in and me being frightened, and everyone going downstairs to sort him out.’
‘Blimey,’ Lissy said, ‘your thought processes run fast! You should be a writer with thinking like that!’
‘I’ve never thought of that,’ Janey said, smiling. ‘But I could. A revenge novel perhaps?’
They were keeping their voices low mindful that both Bobbie and Xander weren’t far away. The landing was wide and the ceilings high but sound carried at night, Lissy always thought. A Christmas tree on the landing would add to the festive atmosphere as well. She’d ask in the morning if Xander knew where she could get Christmas trees – if there were any left.
‘Something else to add to your list of things to be doing a year from now, then,’ Lissy said.
‘Yeah,’ Janey said, perching herself on the side of the bed. ‘God, this room is so big. It feels luxurious having so much space. And all for me.’
‘For as long as you want,’ Lissy said. ‘I didn’t say anything in front of the others but, well, I’ve not decided what I’m going to do with Strand House yet. I’d like to keep it, but I’ve also got a business …’
‘Which,’ Janey said, wagging a finger playfully at her, ‘you might not have one year from now because you might be cheffing for a living. The House on the Strand has a nice ring to it, so you said!’
‘I did, didn’t I?’
But was she brave enough to take that step?
‘Did you mean it? What you just said? About me staying here?’ Janey asked, looking serious again. She put her hand over her mouth as though she couldn’t quite believe she’d said what she had. Lissy got the feeling Janey didn’t ask for much, afraid of what reaction she’d have got from Stuart if she had.
‘I did. Even if I manage to sell my practice …’
‘Not if! When!’ Janey butted in.
Lissy thought it was still the wine talking, as Xander had said earlier it was for him. But many a true word spoken in jest, and all that. Her heart ached for him and Claire, and the baby of theirs that had never been.
‘When,’ Lissy agreed.
Janey’s luggage was still on the end of the bed. One small, rather tatty, brown, very old-fashioned case. Had that been Stuart’s, brought to the marriage along with his Freddie Mercury records? And a tote bag that had seen better days.
‘Wouldn’t it be good,’ Janey said, ‘if we all were to meet up in one year’s time to see if any of us have achieved our dreams?’
‘It would. We could. But I think it would be a good idea if we got some shuteye now. I’ll help you unpack, shall I?’
‘There isn’t much,’ Janey said. She leaned over and sprung the catch on the case and pulled out a jersey nightshirt – navy with pale pink spots and a bit of lace around the neck. She laid it out, almost reverently, on the bed beside her. ‘There’s this, a wrap dress I got from the charity shop on the High Street, underwear, and a different jumper. These jeans,’ she said, patting her knees, ‘will have to see me through.’
‘Oh, Janey, I hope I didn’t put pressure on you about this Christmas invite.’ She reached out to pat her friend’s arm. ‘It’s just that I picked up from your Facebook response to Bobbie’s post about being alone, that you would be too, and I suppose I must have assumed you and Stuart had already parted.’
‘I know. You said it yourself earlier – social media is all smoke and mirrors. And you didn’t put pressure on me. You were, if you like, a catalyst to me doing something about sorting my life out. But I’m going to look like the poor relation here what with Bobbie being so glamourous.’
‘It’s what she does. Glamour. Second nature to her, I should think. It’s never good to compare ourselves to others, though. But I’ve just thought of something. I’ve still got a few of Vonny’s things here. Some cashmere jumpers, and her silk nighties. Some dresses. Vonny was one smart and sassy lady. Not in Bobbie’s league but then not many are. They’re too small for me but you’re about the same size she was. If you don’t mind wearing second-hand?’
‘Mind? I live in it!’ Janey giggled.
‘Sssh,’ Lissy said. ‘The others are probably just about nodding off.’
‘As must I,’ Janey said with a wide yawn. ‘Thanks for everything. The invite, the delicious supper, the offer of somewhere to stay while I get myself sorted.’
‘You were supportive of me when I told you Cooper had left me. I didn’t tell many people. Not even my staff or my mother until I had the decree absolute.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘Then I feel privileged and honoured that you did tell me.’
‘Sometimes the fewer people know, the better it is. One of my clerks – Sasha – told the whole world, I think, and she was plagued something rotten by blokes wanting to, er, comfort her.’
‘I bet,’ Janey giggled, putting a hand to her mouth again to stifle the sound. ‘Tip taken. Keep quiet. Thanks.’
She got off the bed and flung her arms around Lissy’s neck and hugged her – not a bear hug as such but the giving of affection – and the receiving of it, Lissy decided, was probably more needed right now. She hugged her friend.
‘Night, night,’ Janey said. ‘Christmas Eve tomorrow.’
‘Yep, so it is. Night night.’
Lissy kissed her friend’s cheek before she turned to leave. How good it felt to
be giving something back to Janey.
‘Oh!’ Lissy said, startled.
Xander was on the landing doing press-ups when she left Janey’s room. Why here and not in his room? she wondered. Was he drunk?
‘Ah. Sorry. Should have asked,’ he puffed. ‘There’s a bit more space out here. Hope you, er, don’t mind?’
‘Of course not.’ How could she mind when he looked so healthy, so sexy, in dark grey boxers and no top? Building obviously gave a man muscles like an athlete. ‘I said to make yourself at home and you obviously are. Do you do press-ups every night?’
‘Forty-two, forty-three,’ Xander said. ‘Yes, mostly. I’m being as quiet as I can. Nearly there. Forty-six.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Lissy said. She didn’t think she was going to be able to stay there a second longer without throwing herself on him. Had he meant it about wanting to have another woman in his life to love again, and to be loved? To have a child in his life? And if he did, could she be that woman?
‘Twenty more to do,’ Xander said, and he seemed to have got a second wind now. ‘Before you go, what time’s breakfast?’
‘Whenever you surface,’ Lissy told him.
‘Ah. Right. Good. Only I’m thinking of going for an early morning run. If it’s not raining.’
‘Fine. Great,’ Lissy said. ‘Do that.’
‘Feel like joining me?’
‘Not tomorrow,’ Lissy laughed. ‘Good night. Sleep tight.’
And she hurried, her heart rate having gone up a few notches, to her room.
CHRISTMAS EVE
Chapter 14
Xander
It was still six-thirty when Xander let himself out of Strand House. Still dark although the sky was lightening a little. And chillier than he’d thought it would be given there was no breeze. The meteorogical office had murmered about the possibility of snow over Christmas at some stage. Xander shivered, then jumped up and down on the spot to get his blood going around a bit faster. He wished now he’d worn more than shorts and a sweatshirt. But he couldn’t go back to Strand House just yet as it would mean ringing the bell and waking Lissy up to let him in. They’d all been rather late to bed the night before. Not that Xander had slept much. He’d listened out for every creak and groan in case Janey’s husband decided to turn up. Xander began to run along the promenade. It was just under a mile between Hollacombe and his cottage in Cliff Road – not as far as he usually ran. He decided he had time to run around the green which was, roughly, a mile as well. That would be enough for today. Hardly anyone was about yet as he quickened his pace.
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