by Jill Mansell
Riley had listened without interrupting. Finally he said, ‘Right,’ and nodded slowly. ‘I do see now. Thanks for letting me know.’
The sun slid behind grey clouds as they crossed the Severn Bridge into Wales. While they were queuing to pay at the tolls, Riley pressed the button to automatically bring up the roof of the Mercedes. It was a good call; within minutes, the first fat raindrops began to spatter on to the windscreen.
‘Saved your hair getting wet,’ he said.
‘Are we definitely going to get there in time?’
‘Stop worrying. Of course we will.’
Chapter 32
By the time they reached Newport, the rain was hammering down and the traffic was heavy. It came as a relief to leave the motorway and head up quieter roads through Cwmbran, then Pontypool and Ebbw Vale.
‘Right,’ said Riley, when they’d been driving for several miles through the Brecon Beacons National Park. ‘You’re going to need to direct me now.’
‘I’ve never been here before. How am I supposed to direct you?’ Tula pointed to the black screen on the dashboard. ‘Use the satnav!’
‘Satnav doesn’t work. Marguerite broke it last week.’
‘And you didn’t think to mention it until now?’
Riley said evenly, ‘I thought you’d have printed out a map.’
‘What? I thought you’d have functioning satnav!’
The wedding ceremony was due to start at three. It was already two thirty. They reached a junction and Tula saw two unpronounceable Welsh place names on the road sign. The windscreen wipers swished back and forth, sluicing away the heavy rain, and Riley stopped the car. Simultaneously they took out their phones …
No signal.
So typical.
They were in the middle of nowhere, in the midst of an almost biblical downpour, and about as lost as it was physically possible to get.
‘You choose,’ said Riley. ‘Left or right?’
‘I don’t want to choose.’
‘You mean you’d rather I did, so that if I’m wrong it’ll be my fault and you can put all the blame on me.’
‘Pretty much.’ Even Tula had to smile at this admission. She gave her phone a shake. ‘Are you sure you don’t have any signal?’
‘Not a smidgeon. OK, here goes.’ He turned right and they resumed the journey that felt as if it would never end.
Twenty minutes later, another sign loomed ahead of them.
‘This is it! This is the village!’ Tula almost bounced out of her seat. ‘Oh my God, we’ve found it!’
‘We?’ said Riley.
‘OK, you found it. I’m sorry I got in such a panic. You’re a genius. And look, there’s the church!’ She pointed to a spire, just visible between the trees.
‘Even better, here’s a pub.’
‘Are you mad? We don’t have time for a drink. The service starts in five minutes.’
But Riley was ignoring her, pulling into the pub car park. ‘We need to change our clothes,’ he reminded her. ‘We can do it in here.’
‘Good point. Ha, nearly forgot.’ Giddy with relief, Tula pinged her seat belt undone and twisted round to grab her stuff off the back seat. ‘Oh. Where did you put them?’
‘Put what?’
‘Our clothes. And my shoes.’ They’d been there before and now they weren’t. For a moment, Tula wondered if these super-duper hi-tech vehicles had the ability, when the roof came over, to somehow magically transfer the items from the back seat to the boot of the car.
Then she saw the look on Riley’s face and knew they didn’t. He turned, gazed at the empty seat and said, ‘Oh fuck.’
‘You mean while we were driving down the motorway, my dress and your suit went flying out of the back of the car?’ Tula’s voice rose. ‘Or what?’
Riley was shaking his head. ‘Those thieving bastards.’
‘The builders? But how could they have done it? You were there the whole time, watching them!’
‘The curly-haired one called me over, made me look under the car so he could show me where the jack needed to go.’ Riley’s jaw tightened. ‘That’s when the bald one went to get something out of the back of the van. Except he wasn’t, was he? He was putting stuff into it. The absolute fucker.’
Tula couldn’t speak. She wanted to cry, to scream, to smash up the car. Her beautiful red linen dress … her best shoes … Five hours of unbelievably stressful travelling just to get here …
And now this.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Riley.
Tula closed her eyes for a second, nails digging into her palms as she clenched her hands.
‘You gave them fifty pounds and they did that.’ More than anything, she wanted to murder the two builders and drive over their mutilated bodies.
‘I know.’
‘Well we may as well just go home.’
‘Hey, you’re upset now. But you’d be more upset if we did that.’
She gave him a look. ‘And the alternative is?’
‘We’ve come all this way. How about we stay and style it out? One of the reasons I like you so much is because you’re funny, you have a sense of humour.’ Riley was doing his level best to persuade her that she did, anyway. ‘It isn’t our fault we don’t have our clothes. But we’re not naked. All we have to do is explain what happened and people will understand. And we’ll have a great time. We’ll end up laughing about this, I promise.’
Tula listened to the sound of her own breathing. The events of the day had built up and up inside her chest, and her sense of humour had long since vanished. Her clothes would have given her much-needed confidence; this was what Riley couldn’t begin to understand. He’d never met Imi’s intimidating friends, with their knowing looks and those sly, smirky smiles they liked to exchange whenever someone else said or did something that amused them.
Plus, Riley was wearing a pale pink polo shirt and battered but sexy-as-hell jeans, OK, it might be a casual outfit, but he still looked fantastic.
Whereas her own denim shorts had been chosen for comfort rather than style and her baggy striped T-shirt, post-Snickers bar, now sported a chocolate stain down the front.
He gave her a nudge. ‘Come on. Shall we do it?’
Tula pulled down the sun visor and surveyed herself in the tiny mirror. It could be worse; at least her hair was OK and her make-up was still on.
She nodded at Riley, managed a smile and said, ‘Let’s knock ’em dead.’
By four o’clock, unbelievably, Riley’s prediction had come true.
Sitting through the service in the church had been the worst bit. Arriving too late to be able to explain the situation to anyone, Tula had been mortified by the surprised glances cast in their direction. It was like showing up at a funeral in a clown costume complete with honking nose and manic painted-on smile. People couldn’t quite believe they were so inappropriately dressed. There had been nudges and whispers and a fair amount of head-swivelling.
Sloping out in shame would have been the desirable option, were it not for Riley at her side, effectively blocking her exit from the pew.
But then the ceremony had concluded, everyone had spilled out of the church to find it had stopped raining, and Imi’s friends Lucy and Kat had made a beeline for the most embarrassing couple at the wedding.
‘Oh my God, what’s going on?’ shrieked Kat. ‘We couldn’t believe our eyes when we saw you!’
Needless to say, they were glamorously attired and immaculate in every way.
‘Let me explain, seeing as it’s all my fault. Anyway, hi, I’m Riley …’
And that was it; within seconds, he had launched into the whole story, making it funny, doing all the voices, flashing his inimitable smile and charming the pants off Lucy and Kat.
If they were even wearing any.
Other curious guests gathered round to listen, and by the time Riley had finished, everyone was on their side. Even Imi dashed over between photographs and exclaimed, ‘I just heard what happened,
you poor things! But at least you’re here, that’s what matters – I’m so glad you didn’t give up and go home!’
‘So this is your new boyfriend,’ Lucy purred in Tula’s ear. ‘I can see why you’re with him. He’s delicious.’
This was true; Riley was doing a brilliant job. He’d effortlessly won everyone over. Feeling like a proud mum, Tula said, ‘I know.’
‘How did you manage to bag this one?’ Kat was visibly impressed. ‘I mean, no offence, but … look at him.’
The concept of keeping your voice down wasn’t something Kat had ever grasped.
Riley turned and said, ‘Actually I can answer that one. By treating me mean and making me think I didn’t have a prayer. Isn’t that right?’ He slid his arm around Tula’s waist and gave her an affectionate squeeze. ‘She gave me the proper brush-off at first, said I wasn’t her type. But it just made me all the more determined to win her over. Hard work, but I managed it in the end.’ Stroking a stray strand of hair off her cheek, he added, ‘And she’s worth it.’
Oh wow, this felt weird, playing boyfriends and girlfriends. Riley’s fingertips brushed the side of her face again, but she wasn’t allowed to pull away. Even more weirdly, she was discovering she didn’t want to. Being the focus of Riley’s attention, being the girl on his arm, actually felt amazing. And it was kind of exciting, too; witnessing the effect he was having on all the women here appeared to be making his attractiveness contagious.
Once the outside-the-church photos were out of the way, the wedding party proceeded across to the hotel where the reception was being held, Riley still trailing admirers in his wake. It was like following the Messiah, thought Tula.
And then they were drinking champagne, sitting down to eat at circular tables decorated in silver and white, getting into the celebratory spirit of the occasion.
‘So how long have you two been an item?’ Lucy was seated to Riley’s right.
‘It’s been a few weeks now. I fell for her the first weekend she came down to St Carys. Not that it was reciprocated.’ Riley grinned.
‘But why not? Why didn’t you fancy him right away?’ This from Kat on the other side of the table.
Tula shrugged. ‘Just thought he wasn’t my type.’
‘Then she moved down, saw me again and decided I wasn’t so bad after all. OK, so maybe I had to beg for a bit.’ His eyes crinkled with laughter. ‘Or even a lot. But it worked, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.’
Inseparable. Oh, even the way he said the word sent a quiver of longing through her. Tula’s hand tingled as Riley’s fingers brushed against hers, deliberately so the others could see him doing it. It was hard not to look smug. The envy in Kat and Lucy’s eyes was as thrilling as winning a Nobel prize. Well, probably.
The food was delicious, as was the wine. When it came to the speeches, Imi’s father and the best man both singled out Tula and Riley for their determination to be here at the wedding of the year. They were made to stand, take a bow and receive the applause that was their due. Phones were held up and photos taken – it was like being Angelina Jolie arriving at the Oscars. Riley, taking shameless advantage of the situation, gave her a hug and a brief kiss on the mouth before they sat down again.
‘You’re loving this, aren’t you?’ Tula murmured.
‘Every last second.’ He raised a playful eyebrow and kissed her again. ‘You have no idea.’
‘Honestly, you two, get a room,’ said Kat.
‘No, don’t get a room,’ Lucy protested. ‘Stay here and talk to us. So, Riley, we want to know all about you. What do you do?’
Tula found herself tensing up; this was the moment when Riley trotted out his utterly obscure made-up career and someone else at the table said, ‘Wow, what a coincidence, that’s my job too!’
‘I’m an international spy,’ said Riley.
Everyone else laughed.
‘You know, you really could be,’ said Kat. ‘Like the ones on that TV show. All super-cool and glamorous.’
‘I wish.’ Riley smiled at her. ‘Actually, I work in clinical neurophysiological research. Electroencephalography. The mysteries of the human brain.’ His shrug was self-deprecating. ‘Fascinating, but hardly glamorous.’
Tula braced herself; this was the moment when he’d be found out …
But no, everyone was instantly enthralled. They asked questions and Riley answered them in a completely convincing fashion. He threw in long medical words, told amazing anecdotes, and basically managed to make clinical neurophysiology sound a far more thrilling occupation than being some boring old international spy.
Tula found herself watching and listening with equal fascination and growing respect; after such an awful start to the day, Riley had come spectacularly good. He’d exceeded all expectations. As his supposed girlfriend, she was the envy of Imi’s friends, which was a heady experience and something that had certainly never happened before.
She was also, somewhat surreally, starting to view him through their eyes and believe that this was the real Riley. That tantalisingly brief kiss he’d planted on her mouth was still playing on her mind too, and not in a bad way …
When the meal was over and the band started tuning up on the stage, Kat said, ‘I hope you’re going to let me have a dance with your boyfriend.’
‘Of course you can.’ Tula was generous; she could afford to be magnanimous in victory.
Kat eyed Riley and said, ‘I bet you’re a good dancer.’
‘Not bad.’ His shrug was modest. ‘Not as good as Tula. She’s fantastic.’
Oh God, listen to him; he was saying it as if he loved her.
‘Could you excuse us for just a second?’ Pushing her chair back, Tula gave Riley a nudge and indicated the double doors. She turned to Kat and added apologetically, ‘We won’t be long …’
Chapter 33
Tula found a secluded high-walled rose garden in the grounds to the side of the hotel. The early evening sun was streaming through the trees, the flagstoned path was drying out and butterflies danced among the roses. It was like something out of a film.
‘I didn’t want us to be overheard,’ she explained.
Riley said, ‘Now I’m really starting to feel like an international spy.’
‘I just want to say sorry for being such a cow before. I was stressed out and grumpy and I can’t believe you didn’t boot me out of the car.’
‘That’s OK. Although don’t think it didn’t cross my mind.’
‘And thank you for doing this and for being so completely brilliant.’
He half smiled. ‘Have I exceeded expectations?’
‘Yes,’ Tula nodded, ‘you really have. You’ve been amazing.’
‘Good.’ He paused. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
Oops, was she? She’d just been remembering that brief kiss on the mouth and wondering what a proper one would feel like. Aloud she said, ‘I’m not.’
‘Yes you are.’
He had the kind of colouring that meant his tanned skin was darker than his lips. Tula’s breath caught in her throat at the thought of kissing him again. And the way his mouth curved up at the corners in a nearly-smile every time he turned his attention on anyone … well, that was what bowled the girls over, wasn’t it? It was all part of his overwhelming charisma …
‘You’re still doing it,’ Riley murmured. ‘And can I just say? It’s killing me.’
He wanted her to kiss him. And here she was, badly wanting to do it. Maybe it wasn’t wise, but sometimes you just had to give in and act on impulse.
So she did. And it was every bit as fantastic as she’d thought it would be.
Eventually Tula pulled back and said, ‘Probably shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Glad you did.’ Riley’s eyes were bright. ‘So does this mean I may not be as a bad as you thought?’
Stay in control. ‘I was just curious.’ Lightly she said, ‘Remind me again how long you stuck out that gardening job at the hotel?’
‘Oh dear, that’s terrible.’
Riley smiled and said, ‘Don’t make fun of me. I’m an expert in clinical neurophysiology.’ Then he kissed her again and this time she didn’t pull away for some time …
Until they heard a giggle behind them and Tula spun round to see that they’d collected an audience. Lucy, Kat and a couple of their friends were clustered at the entrance to the walled garden.
‘So this is why you two slipped away.’ Kat grinned at them. ‘So you could get up to all sorts!’
‘I don’t blame you,’ Lucy chimed in. ‘I’d be doing the same if I had someone gorgeous to get up to all sorts with.’
‘We weren’t spying, by the way,’ said Kat. ‘Just came out for a sneaky cigarette. Don’t mind us, feel free to carry on canoodling!’
Riley took Tula’s hand in his, which also felt wonderfully romantic and sent zingy sparks up her arm. ‘Thanks,’ he said easily, ‘but we’d rather canoodle in private. Some things are too nice to share.’
As they made their way back to the hotel, leaving the others lighting up their cigarettes, Tula heard Lucy say, ‘God, he’s so gorgeous. Looks and brains. Why can’t I find someone like that?’
She also heard, very faintly, Kat retort drily, ‘I bet Tula can’t believe her luck.’
Up on the stage, the wedding band were playing. Noise levels ramped up, more drink was taken and hair was let down. Everyone was having a great time; proud grandmas danced with grandsons, dads danced with daughters, starry-eyed girls danced with boys and Riley danced with Tula.
When the music slowed down, so did they. Tula could feel the heat of his body against hers. And she liked it.
Hopefully her eyes weren’t too starry.
‘It’s eight o’clock. We need to leave soon.’ As she said it, she could see Kat over by the bar, watching them. Which also felt fantastic.
‘Unless you’d rather stay. We could, you know.’ Riley shrugged. ‘If you wanted. This place still has a few rooms available.’