And Now You're Back

by Jill Mansell

  Layla hesitated. It hadn’t taken her long to learn that if you wanted to get positive responses on dating apps, it helped if you didn’t announce from the word go that you were an accountant. Bracing herself slightly, she said, ‘I’m an accountant.’

  ‘What, seriously?’ He did a jokey double-take. ‘You don’t look like one. And I suppose you’re sick to the back teeth of hearing people say that to you.’

  ‘It happens quite often.’

  ‘Amazing. God, I love it, though. I love surprises. And I love what you’re wearing. Imagine looking the way you do and being able to fill in tax forms.’

  Phew. Layla felt the last remnants of anxiety receding. He wasn’t put off by her profession and everything was going to be perfect.

  ‘Tell me more,’ he said. ‘Any other surprises I should know about?’

  Now he was putting her on the spot. ‘Umm . . . I love Beyoncé?’

  ‘That’s not a surprise. Everyone loves Beyoncé.’

  ‘Let me save the rest of my surprises for now.’ They’d walked the length of the village on one side of the river, then back again on the other, and Layla’s high-heeled butterfly shoes were turning her toes numb. ‘Shall we stop and get a drink?’

  ‘Definitely. I want to know everything about you. Are you into fitness?’

  May as well get it over with. She shook her head. ‘Not really, no.’ Was this going to put him off?

  But Harry was smiling, showing no sign of being horrified and wanting to run a mile or maybe ten. ‘No worries, it makes a nice change. There’s more to life than body-sculpting and sit-ups.’

  Phew. Thank goodness for that.

  Two hours later, sounding bereft, he said, ‘Are you sure you have to go?’

  Layla wasn’t at all sure and she definitely didn’t want to go, but she was under strict instructions from Didi to leave him wanting more. Which was pretty rich, considering Didi had slept with Aaron the first night she’d met him. But Layla was the one who’d asked Didi’s advice on this occasion, and she had promised to do as she was told.

  Besides, everything seemed to be going fantastically well so far and it felt kind of empowering to be the one in charge for once, being all assertive and saying no.

  ‘I do have to go.’ One-upmanship was such a buzz. She leaned forward and planted a brief kiss tantalisingly close to Harry’s mouth. ‘I need to be in my office by seven tomorrow morning, and my taxi’s going to be here any minute. But it’s been great.’

  ‘When am I going to see you again?’

  Yee-ha! ‘I don’t know, you haven’t asked me yet.’

  ‘I’m asking you now. Tomorrow night?’

  The urge to yell yes yes YES was almost irresistible. This was all working like magic, going exactly according to plan. But she had to keep the upper hand. As instructed, she said casually, ‘Sorry, can’t do tomorrow.’

  Even though it nearly killed her.

  ‘Right.’ He looked crestfallen. ‘OK, no worries. Well, tonight was fun.’

  But he’d pulled back a fraction and the tone of his voice had flattened. Panicking, Layla blurted out, ‘I can do Sunday!’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure!’

  ‘OK. Sunday it is.’ And now he slid his arm around her waist and drew her towards him. This time it wasn’t a peck, it was a proper kiss, a meaningful one, long and slow and bursting with promise.

  Layla swooned; it had been quite a while since she’d found herself on the receiving end of something like that.

  By the time they finally broke apart, she was breathless and trembling.

  ‘Sure you don’t want to change your mind?’ Harry murmured. ‘My place is just up the road.’

  She knew where it was. He’d already pointed out the bijou first-floor flat above one of the touristy shops catering for visitors who yearned to buy crockery, paintings, light shades and tea towels . . . anything at all, basically, so long as it featured scenes from the Cotswolds.

  ‘I can’t . . .’

  Smiling, he lightly stroked an index finger along the line of her collarbone. ‘You could if you really wanted to.’

  Chapter 9

  Layla’s phone buzzed. ‘That’s my taxi,’ she said, and twisted round, expecting to see the car making its way along the high street. Moments later, she realised it was one of the ones parked opposite. ‘Oh, it’s already here.’ Well that was a tiny bit embarrassing. ‘Better not keep him waiting. I’ll see you on Sunday.’

  Harry grinned at her. ‘Can’t wait.’

  She made her way over the bridge and across the dry grass. Had Will been sitting there all this time watching her get kissed to within an inch of her life? But when she reached the taxi, Layla saw that he was engrossed in typing something into the iPad on his lap.

  As she opened the passenger door, he switched off the iPad and slid it into the glove compartment.

  ‘What were you writing?’

  He fired up the engine. ‘Nothing.’

  She hoped it wasn’t a Facebook post to accompany a luridly incriminating photo, broadcasting to all and sundry: Look at Layla Gallagher with her blind date tonight, snogging like a teenager outside the pub. Talk about desperate!

  She fastened her seat belt. ‘Been waiting long?’

  ‘I was only two minutes away when you texted me.’

  ‘You should have buzzed me when you got here.’

  Will said mildly, ‘You seemed busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.’

  As they pulled away, she turned to wave goodbye to Harry, but he’d already disappeared. Still euphoric after such a ragingly successful evening and unable to resist a quick boast, Layla said, ‘Well thanks for asking. We had a brilliant time.’

  Will expertly swerved to avoid a fox that had darted into the road. ‘So I gathered.’

  The thing about Will was that he had the kind of sense of humour that was so dry it was sometimes hard to detect. Rather than retaliate, Layla took out her phone and pretended to be engrossed in incredibly important business of an accountanty nature instead. When they arrived back in Elliscombe, she glanced up and said, ‘Here’s fine,’ as he was about to drive past the Wickham Hotel.

  ‘I’m glad you had a good time,’ Will said as she climbed out of the car. Presumably his way of apologising for being dry before.

  She hoisted her silver bag over her shoulder and gave him a fleeting half-smile to let him know he’d overstepped the mark. ‘Me too.’

  The night air was warm, and a buzz of conversation and laughter drifted across from the back of the hotel; plenty of guests were still gathered outside in the garden. When she reached it, Layla paused to admire the scene. The trees were strung with solar fairy lights, there were silvery uplighters tucked away in the shrubberies, and tiny candles flickered in glass jars on every table. The mingled scents of honeysuckle, roses and nicotiana filled the air. The assembled crowd was drinking, socialising and chattering away, and she spotted Didi in a violet shift dress and emerald heels talking to a party of hotel guests.

  ‘Layla,’ said a male voice behind her, and she swung round, recognising him at once.

  ‘Shay!’ Goodness, the beautiful boy of thirteen years ago had grown into a stunningly attractive man. Along with all the other girls at the time – and probably a few boys – she’d had one of those low-level crushes you never even admitted to because you just knew there was no chance of anything happening with the person involved. Shay had been as out of reach and unattainable as a rock star. The fact that he’d had a criminal father and a highly unconventional upbringing hadn’t put anyone off him at all – if anything, those factors had only added to the attraction.

  Then Venice had happened. Shay and Didi had struck showers of sparks off each other and that had been it, a fait accompli. At the time it had been like being shown an extraordinary chemical reaction in the school science lab. It had almost felt like a privilege, Layla remembered, to be able to witness the magical connection between them. And their relationsh
ip had continued for the next six months, invincible and unbreakable, right up until the end had come, suddenly and explosively, and Shay had disappeared.

  Now he was back, more wildly unattainable than ever, and having a little crush on him would be even more of a pointless exercise than before.

  Oh, but it was so lovely to see him again. Plus, she couldn’t wait to witness his interactions with Didi. How must she be feeling now?

  Let alone Aaron . . .

  ‘You look amazing.’ Layla gave him a huge hug.

  ‘So do you. And you’re an accountant, Didi tells me. That’s incredible.’

  ‘I’m an excellent accountant. So if you ever need someone to take care of your millions . . .’

  Shay laughed. ‘I’ll remember that.’

  ‘No, but seriously, I owe you one. Didi told me about you and Fait. I can’t believe it was yours.’ Unable to resist sharing, she gabbled, ‘I’ve just been on a date tonight with someone I met on there!’

  ‘And you’re looking pretty happy, so I hope that means it went well.’

  ‘So well. Best first date ever. And it’s all thanks to you.’

  ‘We aim to please. Not that it’s my company any more. I saw your mum earlier, by the way.’

  ‘Oh, I know, she told me on the phone about you and your dad coming to her rescue this afternoon. She was so grateful to you both.’

  He shrugged. ‘It was nothing, glad to help. How is she now?’

  ‘Not too bad. Apparently wrapping a bag of frozen sweetcorn around her knee has worked wonders.’ Layla paused. ‘I was so sorry to hear about your dad. Horrible for him and for you.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Shay’s voice softened. ‘And I’m sorry about yours, too. You must miss him so much.’

  ‘We do.’ Layla nodded; her father and Red Mason had been unlikely friends, both of them chancers who shared a sense of humour and a fondness for a few drinks in their favourite local pub, the Prince of Wales. ‘It was hard for Mum especially, having to move out of the house. None of us had any idea what the situation was like financially when Dad died, so it came as a massive shock. Mum’s battled through it – she takes little part-time jobs wherever she can – but it hasn’t been easy, getting used to not having any money. And of course she won’t let me help her out.’

  ‘We saw the dolls she’s been making. They’re fantastic,’ said Shay.

  ‘They are, but for every one she sells, there are two more she makes for people who tell her how much they want one but can’t afford it. Mum’s so soft-hearted, she can’t bear to turn them down.’

  ‘Ah, she didn’t mention that.’

  ‘You know what she’s like.’ Layla changed the subject. ‘So anyway, does it feel strange seeing Didi again?’

  And there it was, that bewitchingly enigmatic half-smile she remembered so well. ‘I don’t know that I’d call it strange. Interesting, perhaps. We’re all older now, aren’t we? Everything changes. Didi’s running this place, got herself a fiancé. I’m glad she’s doing well.’

  ‘Mum says you’re going to be doing up your old home for Red to live in. So that means you’ll be around for a while.’

  ‘Well it wasn’t how I’d planned on spending the summer, but he’s talked me into it.’ Shay gave her a wry look. ‘That’s my father for you, always did have the gift of the gab.’

  ‘And will you stay on here in the hotel while you’re working on the house?’

  He shook his head. ‘Dad’s keen to get away from his current lady friend in Edinburgh. He wants to move down as soon as possible. So I’m going to rent a place for the two of us. I’ve found a couple to look at tomorrow.’ He glanced past her. ‘Here comes Didi. I’m guessing that’s the fiancé with her now.’

  ‘His name’s Aaron.’ Swivelling, Layla waved to them. ‘She’ll be wanting to hear all about my date.’

  Shay said, ‘If you two end up together, I’m going to be taking all the credit.’

  Layla remembered the giddy-making kiss, the sensation of Harry’s warm fingers sliding through the hair at the nape of her neck. Jokingly – but not completely jokingly – she said, ‘You’ll be guest of honour at our wedding.’

  The arms of the doll had to be stuffed in exactly the right way, and Rosa was in the middle of a tricky manoeuvre, wrestling to replicate the angles, when her landline rang. Not recognising the number of the incoming call, she was tempted to leave it. But curiosity, as always, won out.

  ‘Hey, how’s the knee?’

  She did a mini double-take. ‘Red, hello! Who gave you my number?’

  ‘No one. I looked it up online. You aren’t ex-directory.’

  ‘Oh, right. I know that. Sorry, I just meant I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.’

  ‘You probably should go ex-directory.’ He sounded amused. ‘Stops you getting calls from weird people.’

  ‘You aren’t weird.’

  ‘I know I’m not. I’m talking about crank calls and scammers. Knee?’

  ‘Bit painful, not too bad. Are you in Edinburgh?’

  ‘I am. Now listen. I’ve had an idea. But all I’m going to do is suggest it to you, and it’s fine if you want to say no. In fact, you don’t even have to do that, I’ll just say it and put the phone down. Then you can have a good think about it and if you want to say yes, you call me back. If you don’t want to say yes, it ends there. And there won’t be any awkwardness, I promise.’

  Rosa frowned, puzzled. ‘Do you want me to make a doll for someone you know? Because it’s not a problem, I’d be happy to do that.’

  ‘Rosa, that’s very kind of you, but it isn’t a doll I’m after. I’m more interested in that spare bedroom of yours.’

  ‘Oh . . .’ Well, she hadn’t been expecting that.

  ‘Just for three months, until my own house is habitable again. I’d pay you a decent amount, of course. Shay said we could rent a place together, but he’ll be out working all day, and I’m used to spending my time with other people. I don’t much enjoy being on my own. So I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind a bit of company, and I promise I wouldn’t be a nuisance.’ He paused. ‘There, that’s it, I’ve said it. If the idea horrifies you, that’s OK. I completely understand and we’ll never mention it again. I’m putting the phone down now.’

  ‘Wait—’ Rosa blurted out, but it was too late, the line had already gone dead.

  She rose to her feet, limped through to the kitchen and poured herself a small glass of wine. Back in the living room, having made herself comfortable once more on the sofa, she returned the call. Red answered on the third ring.

  ‘Sounds like an excellent plan to me,’ she said.

  ‘Really?’ The delight was evident in his voice. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Absolutely sure. Soon as you like. When were you thinking of moving in?’

  ‘Tomorrow? Or maybe the next day.’ She heard him stifle a cough. ‘This is the best news.’

  ‘I think so too.’ She meant it. She had plenty of friends here in Elliscombe, and Layla’s flat was only up the road, but living alone wasn’t something she’d ever really learned to enjoy. A bit of undemanding day-to-day company could be just the thing she needed to cheer herself up. In a purely platonic way, of course.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Red. ‘And it’s only going to be for three months, max. I’ll try not to die on you.’

  ‘You’d better not. If you do, I’ll kill you,’ said Rosa.

  Chapter 10

  Didi’s fiancé, Aaron, had introduced himself to Shay with one of those crushing I’m-so-manly handshakes before launching into a manly conversation about cars.

  Shay, not remotely interested in cars, was nodding along and half listening instead to Layla, who was excitedly regaling Didi with details of this evening’s date with Harry, which couldn’t have gone better.

  ‘. . . I mean, have you tried the Mercedes AMG GT Coupé? Got some poke behind it, that one. Eight-cylinder biturbo engine with dry sump lubrication. It’s the bomb, I’m telling you.’ Aaron shoo
k his head in admiration.

  ‘It’s just so incredible . . . When he looked at me, it was like he wanted to know every single thing about me,’ Layla gushed happily. ‘I can’t wait for you to meet him!’

  ‘Upright radiator grille and electronically extending rear aerofoil . . . silver brake calipers . . . memory package . . .’

  ‘And he has the most amazing elbows! I have such a thing for really good elbows, don’t you? They make all the difference.’

  ‘Oh, wrists are my favourite thing.’ Didi was nodding. ‘I love wrists.’

  Shay fought the urge to glance at Aaron’s wrists.

  ‘And if you go for the GTS, you get another forty-six horsepower. With adjustable sports suspension.’

  Never in his life had Shay been so glad to get a phone call. Pulling out his mobile, he said apologetically, ‘So sorry, it’s my father. I’m going to have to take this.’

  ‘Go ahead, don’t mind me.’ Aaron gestured that he understood. ‘I’ll get us another drink, shall I? Won’t be long.’

  Oh God, another drink meant another twenty minutes listening to the contents of a car manual, but Aaron had already disappeared in the direction of the bar.

  ‘Dad, everything OK?’ Because each time you received a call from the phone of a parent who was terminally ill, you instinctively prepared yourself for the worst. One day the voice at the other end might not be Red’s; it might belong to a paramedic, a doctor or a stranger in the street.

  ‘Never better,’ said Red. ‘Listen, I’ve got some news. You don’t have to find us a place to stay for the next few months.’

  Oh God, now what? Did this mean he’d decided to stay in Edinburgh with Angela after all? Had the plan to renovate their old home been abandoned, meaning that Shay could put the place on the market and spend at least part of the summer relaxing on holiday somewhere exotic?

  The thoughts raced through his brain; this was what he’d wanted more than anything. But now that it seemed likely, there was a curious lack of elation. ‘You’ve changed your mind about getting the house done up and moving into it?’ This was crazy; now he was actually feeling disappointed.