by Lisa Hill
‘And you told me I had some major grovelling to do, to sort things out with Drew.’
‘Ah,’ Jack said, feeling uncomfortable.
‘Want me to spell it out?’
Jack looked at Mary’s grave. He’d had such a perfect relationship with her. They rarely argued. He had to concede, though, that the only thing him and Pamela ever bickered over was Edward.
‘I know you want me to eat humble pie and apologise. Problem is, a few weeks ago she told me and Edward she could get along just fine without either of us. Reckon she might be over me.’
‘You hurt her, Dad. You went and cancelled the wedding without telling her—’
‘Edward wouldn’t have divorced her in time anyway.’
Lottie shrugged. ‘Okay, but you could have spoken to her about it first. You just wanted to get back at her for allowing Edward to move into the Old Rectory without consulting you first and—’
‘That’s not fair, I was shocked that was all, and—’
‘And nothing!’ Lottie shouted over him. ‘It hurt her all the same, and yet she’s still trying to prove how much she loves you!’ Lottie whipped the flyer out of his hand and shook it in front of his face. ‘You’re always telling me relationships are about compromise, so start compromising!’
Jack pursed his lips together. ‘You, my girl, are a stubborn, interfering, know-it-all.’
Lottie grinned. ‘And we both know where I get it from.’
Chapter Sixty
Rebecca smiled contentedly as she held James’ hand on the outside sofa at the pub. He was talking animatedly to Drew, Lottie and Pamela, while Ant, Cam and Eve played on the adventure playground at the end of the garden. Finally, she was part of this family, the Hardwickes, not a bystander in an official capacity, as an employee. She had made mistakes to get there but thankfully no-one in this family, not even Pamela, held it against her and here she was, nearly at the end of August, only two-and-a-half weeks before she tied the knot to James. Her stomach fizzed, not from the bubbles she’d been drinking but from the anticipation of finally becoming a Hardwicke. She looked over again at Lottie and Drew’s children, playing happily; Ant looking too old and cool for an adventure playground these days, stopping every few moments to reply to a message on his phone. No doubt from Tom’s Rory; Lottie had mentioned they were sweet on each other. Returning to the conversation, Rebecca’s gaze fell upon the Edwards family, sitting in the far corner of the pub. Megan and Cerys were chatting while Johnnie listened to their conversation with a serious expression. Louise was looking thoroughly bored as she twiddled the stem of her wine glass.
‘It’s a shame your family aren’t here to join in on these last-minute preparations,’ Pamela said, jolting Rebecca from her momentary surveillance.
‘Hmmm?’ Rebecca said, trying to register what Pamela had just said. ‘Oh, there aren’t many to be involved, I’m an only child.’
‘Lucky you,’ said Drew, grabbing a mozzarella stick from the platter of food they were all sharing.
‘Oi,’ said Lottie, bashing Drew on the arm. ‘Ignore him,’ said Lottie, ‘although, there are many advantages of being an only child.’
‘Yes, not sharing your inheritance for one,’ James said, winking at Lottie.
‘James!’ Lottie said, incredulously.
‘But they will be coming to the wedding, your parents?’ Pamela asked, ignoring her cheeky sons.
‘Oh yes, they’re looking forward to it.’
‘Perhaps we should meet up for a meal before the big day, if they’re staying over for a few nights?’
‘Um,’ Rebecca said, stalling for time.
‘What Rebecca is too polite to say,’ James interjected, ‘is that she’s a bit worried about,’ he dropped his voice, ‘Dad,’ he mouthed.
Pamela batted a hand. ‘Oh, for goodness sakes, that’s all in the past.’
‘Not sure that’s how Rebecca’s father feels about the way Dad treated her.’
‘Well, we can only hope that he finally gives Edward a piece of his mind, like we’ve all wanted to,’ Lottie said, breaking out into a big Cheshire Cat grin, to rival the ones that Edward usually made. ‘Is it just your parents who are coming?’ Lottie asked, clearly keen to rescue Rebecca by steering the conversation away from Edward.
‘No, my cousins are coming with their partners and children.’
‘Oh, lovely,’ Lottie said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic. ‘Where will they be travelling from?’
‘My parents from Windsor and my cousins from Cheltenham.’
‘Oh, how strange,’ Pamela said, ‘that’s where Edward’s from originally, Cheltenham.’
‘What?’ Lottie turned and frowned at Pamela. ‘But he has a Yorkshire accent?’
‘Yes,’ Pamela said, taking a sip of her prosecco. ‘He was sent to live with his grandmother when he was quite young, so I guess he picked up the Yorkshire accent then. It’s never been a very pronounced accent.’
‘True,’ Lottie nodded.
Rebecca remained silent, sipping on her bubbles, wishing the conversation would move on from Edward, as she continued to study the odd behaviour of the Edwards family.
‘We’re lucky we’re getting married in September, I doubt Rebecca’s father would have had time to come after that what with the jump season starting towards the end of next month,’ James said.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Pamela, ‘I forgot your family are in horse racing…’
Pamela waffled on, but Rebecca’s mind wasn’t focusing. Not on the conversation anyway, but on where exactly Louise was off to on her own. Empty wine glass in hand, she scurried like a squirrel, across the York stone paving slabs and through the rear entrance of the pub.
‘Excuse me,’ Rebecca said, popping her napkin down on her seat and standing up. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve just spotted Louise and I must just catch her about the numbers for the catering; I meant to email her, but I forgot.’
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
‘Want me to come with you?’ James said, attentively taking her hand.
‘It’s fine, darling, it’ll only take two minutes,’ she said, briefly kissing his cheek.
As quickly as her Louboutin heels would carry her, she tottered over the uneven slabs and made her way down the rear pub corridor. She hovered by the Ladies, in case she’d gone in there. Pah! That was naïve hope; she knew exactly where Louise was making a beeline for and she needed to stop her. She pushed open the door into the main pub and came face-to-face with Edward.
‘Rebecca, darling, I was just coming to find you all,’ he said, reaching in and kissing her on the cheek.
He smelled of his usual cologne, dressed impeccably as always in a Ralph Lauren polo shirt with faded jeans and a pair of navy loafers. She briefly paused to check in with her feelings and was relieved to find there was neither desire nor anxiety lingering under the surface anymore. He was just Edward Hardwicke again, the man she had always professionally respected and James and Drew’s dad.
‘Thanks for inviting me,’ he said, obviously wrong footed by her lack of reply.
‘No problem, I felt you should be here too. Pamela’s in the garden as well.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I’ll be sure to keep my distance,’ he winked at her. ‘Can I get you anything?’
Rebecca’s eye caught Louise leaning over the bar, flirtatiously engaged in conversation with Duncan, a completely different person to the one looking miserable in the garden.
‘No, I’m fine thanks,’ she breezed, holding the door for him. ‘I’ll be out shortly, just need to catch Louise about the catering.’ She pointed to the bar.
Edward’s gaze fell upon Louise and Duncan. ‘I didn’t know Johnnie and Louise were unhappy,’ he said, after a moment.
‘What makes you say that?’ Rebecca squeaked, her voice practically an octave higher than normal.
‘Rebecca, darling, you and I both know that you can’t fool a fooler.’ He winked and wandered off through the door.
Rebecca blushed. Sadly, Edward was right. It was also true that you couldn’t kid a kidder, so it was probably best to get the conversation she needed to have with Louise out of the way, because Louise was kidding herself and evidently, from Edward’s comment, no-one else.
Louise took a sip of the red wine Duncan had poured for her and enjoyed the warm glow spreading through her body. Who was she kidding; it was nothing to do with the wine, just the opportunity to be deep in conversation – okay, flirt – with Duncan.
‘This looks very cosy,’ Rebecca said, sidling up to the bar, a heavy note of sarcasm in her voice.
Louise watched Duncan jump as much as she did.
‘What can I get you?’ Duncan asked, smoothly moving from the conversation they had just been having about how many glasses of wine he would have to give her for free, before he could persuade her that leaving Johnnie was a good idea.
She was still having doubts.
‘A moment with Louise,’ Rebecca smiled, effortlessly. ‘If she can bear to be dragged away.’ There was almost a threatening edge to her voice.
Louise watched Duncan’s gaze as the penny registered that Rebecca really knew what was going on.
‘Of course,’ Duncan said, his voice slightly strained. ‘Anything to drink?’
‘I’m fine, thank you, although the others at our table in the garden might need some refills.’
‘Onto it now,’ Duncan said, turning and retreating to the end of the bar.
‘What did you do that for?’ Louise hissed, watching Duncan leave, suddenly feeling exposed and longing for his protective presence.
‘Because you appear to have taken leave of your senses!’ Rebecca hissed back.
‘What?’ Louise shrugged, feeling confused at her own behaviour. Was flirting in the bar with Duncan a cry for help? Was that why Rebecca was here? To rescue her? ‘We’re just here having a few drinks to celebrate Cerys’ GCSEs; she got three ‘9s’, five ‘8s’, and two ‘7s’. A nine was equivalent to an A** in old money, she couldn’t be prouder of her daughter, especially having to study with the rows between her and Johnnie. ‘Megan got three ‘As’ in her A Levels last week; she’s off to York to study English at the end of September.’ A pain lingered in her stomach at the thought of Megan leaving home in just four weeks. One of her closest allies was going away. A few months ago, that feeling was envy. Now, it was pure admiration. If only she could be brave enough to stand on her own two feet and leave home too.
‘Are you sad about that?’ Rebecca asked, reaching out and squeezing Louise’s forearm, evidently having registered Louise’s fallen expression at the thought of her baby leaving home.
Louise nodded. ‘Yes.’ She brightened. ‘But proud too, they’re both doing so well, they really could go far in life.’
Rebecca hitched herself up on a bar stool in her tiny denim shorts, showing off her long, tanned legs. She was only a couple of years younger than Louise, but Louise couldn’t help but think that Rebecca had her whole life ahead of her, like her girls too. It was like everyone else’s lives were moving on and Louise was stuck. In the same job, in the same marriage, with the same Johnnie.
She let out a long sigh, hooking her foot up onto a stool too.
‘Want to talk about it?’ Rebecca asked, leaning in, trying to catch Louise’s eye.
‘What’s there to talk about?’ she said, looking up to meet Rebecca’s gaze.
Rebecca raised her eyebrows. She ran her finger along the bar, making a smeared line in the cherry oak surface. ‘The day we first met, at the summer fete, you told me not to worry what others thought about me, that I should follow my heart.’
Louise nodded. ‘I did.’
‘But I was so worried about what others thought, because I’d done a bad thing. I shouldn’t have got involved with Edward; I shouldn’t have followed my heart on that occasion.’
Louise frowned. ‘So, you’re saying my advice about James was wrong.’
Rebecca smiled, sympathetically. ‘No, your advice then was spot on. What I’m trying to say – and not very coherently by the sounds of things – is, in this situation, I feel you need to follow your head. Don’t make the mistakes I made; follow your head and I think your heart will catch up with you.’
Louise leant her elbow on the bar and rested her head in it. ‘Rebecca, you’re still not making much sense.’
‘Get your problems with Johnnie sorted first. Focus on what you want. I think, if you admitted it, your problems with Johnnie have been going on far longer than your attraction to Duncan.’
‘Sssh!’ Louise said, looking around to check no-one was in earshot.
‘Look,’ Rebecca said, sounding very business-like, like she was about to close a deal on a property sale. ‘I’ve been in Duncan’s shoes; I’ve been the other person and it hurts like hell when they say they’ve got to end it because it’s complicated and they need to focus on sorting their marriage out. Please, don’t put Duncan in that position.’
Louise sighed. ‘I know. I know you’re right, because Pamela gave me the same advice a couple of weeks ago.’
Rebecca’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Did she? Does she know about…’
Louise followed Rebecca’s gaze in the direction of Duncan who was making up a tray of drinks. ‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘She recognised I was unhappy and told me to focus on myself, my new business, that sort of thing. Not get wrapped up in what Johnnie and the girls need all the time.’
‘Sounds like she spoke a lot of sense.’
Louise nodded, her gaze still tracing Duncan’s muscular outline. She looked back to Rebecca. ‘Thing is, I’m stuck and he’s a welcome distraction. I don’t think about all my other problems when I’m thinking about him, they magically drift away.’ Her eyes started to well.
Rebecca reached for a napkin out of its holder and handed it to Louise.
‘Thank you,’ Louise said, blowing her nose, in attempt not to draw attention to the fact she was crying. ‘How pathetic am I? I’m blowing my nose to make it look like I’m not crying; I have totally mastered the art of deception!’ she said, dabbing her eyes to dam her leaking tears.
Rebecca reached out and squeezed her arm again. ‘Louise,’ she said, looking deep into Louise’s gaze, ‘you haven’t done anything wrong. I am really only trying to prevent you from making the same mistakes that I made. Duncan clearly feels the same way you do; if you carry on like this, you’re both going to do something you regret and you’re going to have much bigger problems than you currently have. You could end up hurting Duncan on top of everyone else.’
Louise nodded. ‘I know, and you’re right.’ A wave of guilt spread over her that in her need for self-gratification, by flirting with Duncan, she wasn’t really considering how he might be feeling. ‘I really need to avoid Duncan until I’ve decided what I’m going to do.’
Rebecca nodded. ‘I sound like the pot calling the kettle black, but you really want to be able to walk around the village with your head held high.’
‘I suppose it’s too much to ask for Johnnie to have an affair?’
‘Well,’ Rebecca leaned in, her voice lowered, ‘he is always whispering in corners with Hilary Preston-Jones.’
They both burst out laughing and the group of elderly men at the other end of the bar stopped their conversation to see what was so funny.
Rebecca put her hand to her mouth. ‘Ooops!’
‘Don’t, I needed a good laugh. If only! But you have given me food for thought; I hadn’t really considered Duncan’s feelings in all of this.’
‘Duncan’s feelings are in his pants at the moment, but I do think his attraction for you runs deeper than being just physical.’
‘You do?’ Louise felt a flutter of hope beat in her heart.
‘He’d have bedded you by now if it was just a sex thing; he’s in for the long game, I reckon.’
Louise felt a new wave of hope wash over her. If she actually sorted her shit out then maybe, just maybe, there was
a different future mapped out for her.
‘Thank you,’ she smiled, nodding her head. ‘You’ve made me go from feeling criticised to hopeful in one short conversation.’ She took a sip of her red wine, feeling more positive than she had in ages.
Chapter Sixty-One
It was the day before the wedding and as Pamela carried another overflowing box of cream stocks up to the church from her car, she reflected she wasn’t as upset as she thought she might have been. Tomorrow should have been their wedding day, hers and Jack’s. Stocks wouldn’t have been her choice, but they smelled abundantly fragrant, yet delicate, and Pamela admired how Rebecca had chosen scent over appearance. The smell when everyone entered the church tomorrow would be overwhelmingly beautiful and would no doubt stay in people’s minds after the wedding day. Something she would bear in mind when her wedding day preparations got back on track.
If they ever got back on track.
‘Need a hand?’
Pamela faltered slightly, knowing so intimately the owner of the voice and knowing his intentions would be chivalrous and genuine. Living next door to each other these past few weeks, instead of together, had seemed strangely liberating and yet, had given her more resolve that they would live together again one day. But for the moment, it had come as a surprise to her to find how much she enjoyed her independence. Only her washing and ironing to do, only her meals to cook. And moving in with your mother at sixty years of age had come as somewhat of a revelation; it was more like being fourteen again when Audrey still insisted on doing most of the cooking and laundry, leaving Pamela with the more physical task of cleaning Church End.
‘That’s kind of you, thank you,’ Pamela said, waggling the keys hanging on the end of her index finger. ‘If you could grab another box from the car and bring it into the church that would be fabulous, thanks.’
‘Of course,’ Jack said.
Their fingers momentarily touched, and their eyes met. She tried to read his expression; it wasn’t an angry or hurt one anymore, more one of loneliness. But Jack, being Jack, was too much of a stubborn, old ox to admit that.