by Jill Mansell
‘It’s not you. It’s not him. This is all down to me.’ Didi twisted the diamond ring off her finger and held it out to him. When he didn’t move, she placed it on the glass-topped coffee table. Filled with sadness and suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion, she said yet again, ‘I really am sorry. You deserve better than me.’
‘Too bloody right I do,’ Aaron snapped back.
She’d only said it to be polite, but fair enough. In a situation like this, it was no fun at all being either the finisher or the finishee.
It didn’t take long to throw her few belongings into the overnight case. As she added the toiletries bag that had lived in the cupboard under the bathroom sink for the last year, he sneered, ‘So that’s why you brought the empty case down with you.’
When it was time to leave, she said, ‘Sorry. Bye.’
‘If you were actually sorry, you wouldn’t be leaving.’ Aaron paused. ‘Have you really not slept with him?’
‘I swear I haven’t.’
‘Do it then.’
‘What?’
A muscle was twitching in his temple. ‘Have all the sex you want with the guy for a week . . . or two or three weeks. Until the novelty wears off and the pair of you come to your senses. There you go, how about that for an offer you can’t refuse? Because you can deny it until you’re blue in the face, but I know it’s Shay Mason. He’s the one behind all this. So do it,’ he continued evenly. ‘You’ve got a free pass from me. May as well make the most of it. Go ahead and get him out of your system.’
Didi was on the verge of saying so many things, but in the end her words deserted her. It would be wrong to deny his comments, seeing as the basic accusation was true. She looked at him and said, ‘I’m going now.’
He held open the front door and she walked past him carrying her case. As she made her way down the staircase, she heard him head back into the flat then come out again. When she reached the ground floor, he called her name and she looked up through the rectangle of space that formed the central well of the stairway.
‘Take this,’ said Aaron.
‘Take what?’ She saw him drop something small, then heard a tiny metallic clink as it hit the ground six feet away.
‘I can’t take it,’ she called out.
‘Well if you leave it lying there, it’s just going to get stolen.’ He turned and disappeared inside the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him.
He wasn’t wrong about that. Wearily, Didi picked up the ring, rummaged in her shoulder bag and zipped it securely inside her blue leather purse. When Aaron was in a calmer state of mind, she would arrange to post it back to him.
The Tube journey back to Paddington was crowded and stiflingly hot. Reaching the concourse at last, Didi heaved a sigh of exasperation when she saw on the screens that her train was delayed.
An hour later, there was still no sign of one, thanks to major signal failure on the line. Everyone watching the screens was getting increasingly fed up. By eleven o’clock there were no seats left anywhere and last night’s lack of sleep was catching up with her. After yawning so hard she almost dislocated her jaw, Didi gave up and dragged her case up the slope that led out of the station.
Chapter 29
‘Red’s doing OK,’ said Rosa. ‘Well, as OK as can be expected. His chest infection’s sorted out now but he’s had to increase the Oramorph. I made risotto tonight – you know the seafood one you like? – but he couldn’t manage much of it.’ She paused to run her fingers through the back of her hair and let some air get to her neck. ‘Oh, and it’s all still going well with Layla and her chap. Harry the fitness trainer, remember I told you? She sees him two or three times a week. I haven’t met him yet, but I’m sure it won’t be long now. I’ll keep you posted and—’
‘God, is this the kind of thing you talk about?’
Rosa jumped out of her skin. Usually Ingrid wore clattery stilettos, but this time she was barefoot. ‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you.’
‘When Benny told me about you coming here to chat to your dead husband, I thought you’d be having more interesting conversations than that.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘At this rate, if he was still alive he might die of boredom.’
What must it be like to be so blunt, to have that much confidence in yourself? Rosa wondered how Ingrid would react if she were to say, ‘How dare you be so fucking rude?’
Instead she replied, ‘It depends on how much has been happening. But I want to keep him up to date with what’s going on in our lives. Even the little things.’
‘Right. And am I allowed to ask when you might be finished?’ Ingrid indicated the phone in her hand. ‘It’s just that I came out here to make a call and it’s kind of inconvenient having to wait for someone else to talk for ages to another person who isn’t even here.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t know.’ Rosa scrambled to her feet with some difficulty; one of her legs had gone to sleep and was now fizzing like sherbet.
‘I mean, it is our garden. It would be nice to be allowed some privacy.’
With no time to say her usual goodbye to Joe, Rosa hastily crossed the lawn and climbed the wall. As she dropped down on the other side, she heard Ingrid say with another chuckle, ‘Let’s hope your dead husband doesn’t eavesdrop on my phone call. I think maybe he couldn’t cope with so much excitement.’
The air con on the train hadn’t been working, which was always nice on what promised to be the hottest day of the year so far. After having spent Saturday night in a fairly grim hotel a couple of streets from Paddington station, Didi was just glad there was a train running at all. Arriving back at Moreton-in-Marsh, she unstuck her white T-shirt from her spine, opened all the car windows and headed out of the car park.
At least she’d done what she’d set out to do. Who knew what might happen next? Whoops, police car . . . Hopefully the future didn’t involve being landed with a speeding ticket. But no, today even the police were on her side.
As Didi drove back to Elliscombe, her spirits rose. She breathed in lungfuls of clean country air, and when she switched radio stations, there was her favourite Killers track playing as if she’d magicked it out of the ether. Singing along at the top of her voice, she pretended she wasn’t holding her breath about what might lie up ahead. Then she rounded the final bend and abandoned the pretence, because there it was, Shay’s Audi parked on the driveway outside Hillcrest. It was midday on Sunday and he was here, still working.
Her pulse accelerated as her brain considered the options. On the one hand, she was hot and sticky and her shirt was looking like an old dishcloth. On the other hand, would he really mind? Seeing that his car was parked outside, didn’t that give her the perfect opportunity to call in and ask after Red before viewing the progress that had been made with the renovations? And if Shay did happen to ask her why she was back at this time on a Sunday, she could casually mention that the engagement was off. She’d be able to see in his eyes how he felt about that, and maybe an unspoken conversation would ensue. Then who knew where it might go from there.
Her foot touched the brake and the car began to slow down. She’d almost reached the house now and a million possibilities were ricocheting through her brain . . . until a flash of pink appeared at the perimeter of her vision and an entirely new possibility presented itself.
The next moment she was far enough along the lane to see the garden to the right of the house. The pink she’d glimpsed was a bikini top being worn by a female sporting a white sunhat, dark glasses and a short khaki skirt. She was tanned, laughing, and worst of all running her hands over Shay’s chest in a way that allowed no doubt as to the extent of their relationship.
It wasn’t how you’d greet your postman or the guy who’d come to read your electricity meter, put it that way.
Who was she? Didi felt sick. Where had this laughing, playful female sprung from? What was going on? Except the answer to that last question was blindingly obvious, because Shay certainly wasn’t objecting to being manhandled. Oh God, and now she wa
s reaching up to kiss him . . .
Didi shuddered; thank heavens she hadn’t stopped the car. Neither of them had noticed her slowing down as she drove past. Leaving them behind, she glanced into the rear-view mirror and saw them kissing properly now.
While the cat’s away . . .
What was extra frustrating was that she hadn’t even known she was the cat.
‘You’re back!’ Sylvia exclaimed as Didi carried her overnight case up the staircase. ‘Did you have fun?’ Without waiting for a reply, she went on, ‘Ooh, bit of gossip for you. Guess who’s in the Midsummer Suite?’
‘Well, it was booked by a Marcus Williams.’
‘He made the arrangements on someone else’s behalf. It’s Caz Holloway! Exciting.’ Sylvia was beaming with pleasure at being the one to relay the news. ‘You’ll never guess what else.’
And that was it. Like being hit in the stomach with a medicine ball, Didi knew. The woman in the pink bikini top had been wearing dark glasses and her hair had been stuffed under her hat, but with hindsight, of course it was her. Careful to keep her expression neutral, she said, ‘What else?’
‘Caz and Shay, swear to God! Inseparable! Pretty sure he’s spent the last two nights in her room. Isn’t that fantastic?’
‘Wow, yes, great.’ What else could she say? Didi fanned herself vigorously. ‘It was so hot on the train, thought I was going to melt. I’m going to jump in the shower. Anything else I need to know about?’
‘Nothing. All under control here,’ Sylvia said. ‘Everything’s perfect.’
Except it wasn’t, was it?
Upstairs in her apartment, Didi showered, blow-dried her hair and applied more make-up than usual. Then she looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror – hello, Miss Try-Hard – and removed the make-up, because what was she trying to do, compete with a BAFTA-winning actress who could sing and dance and was so beloved by everyone she was practically a national treasure?
An hour later, the blue Audi pulled into the hotel car park. Her stomach constricting with envy, Didi watched from her bedroom window as Caz and Shay made their way through the side entrance and across the terrace. Everyone else out there was watching them too, in that discreet British way, until one of the guests said something to Caz and held up her phone, evidently asking for a selfie. Caz stopped and dutifully posed for the camera, then said something that made the guests laugh. The next moment she and Shay disappeared inside, but not before Didi had seen the look they exchanged, along with the brief shared smile.
They were so well matched, so in tune with each other. Like an actual perfect couple.
Making her mind up, Didi crossed to the bedside table and took out the engagement ring she’d put away after unpacking her case. She slid it back onto her ring finger. Just for now, life was going to be an awful lot easier if she carried on wearing it.
‘Oh, you’re an angel,’ Caz whooped the next morning. ‘You’re literally a lifesaver. Thank you so much!’
She’d called down to reception in a panic and Didi had come to the rescue. ‘Well, it’s a phone charger, not a kidney,’ she said with a smile. ‘But I know what you mean.’
‘Can’t live without our phones, though, can we? My agent goes mad when he can’t get hold of me.’ Caz was perched on the bed wearing shorts and a strappy top, painstakingly painting her toenails bright orange and seemingly unaware that she was holding the bottle of polish at a precarious angle. The brush slipped and she said, ‘Oh bum.’
‘If you like, we can arrange for a nail technician to come to the hotel,’ Didi offered.
‘Nah, too impatient. They take ages and my feet are dead ticklish. Easier to do it myself. Whoops!’ A drop of nail polish landed on her ankle. ‘Don’t worry about the sheets – if I wreck anything, I’ll pay for it. My mum calls me Mr Bean!’
‘I’m not worried,’ Didi lied, ‘but why don’t you let me hold the bottle? Would that help?’
‘See, didn’t I say you were an angel? Come and sit down.’ Caz patted the space next to her on the bed and passed over the bottle. ‘Have a good laugh at what a pig’s ear I’m making of painting my toes. You’re Didi?’
‘That’s right.’ Didi wondered how much Shay had told her. ‘I hope you’re enjoying your stay with us so far.’
‘Are you kidding? I’m enjoying every single thing about this place. I break into a cold sweat every time I remember that I almost booked a week in Barcelona instead. You have a gorgeous hotel.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And gorgeous guests.’ Caz giggled. ‘Well, one guest in particular. I’m sure you know which one I mean.’
Didi nodded, firmly in hotel manager mode. ‘I did hear a mention of this.’
‘Oh God, though, isn’t he amazing? Total babe.’ She clutched her free hand to her chest. ‘I’m like, what have I done to deserve this? Since Friday night we’ve been together practically non-stop . . . I just can’t believe my luck. He had to go to work this morning and I’m already missing him like crazy. Can you imagine if I’d gone to Barcelona instead? We’d never have met!’
‘There might have been someone even better in Barcelona.’ Didi attempted levity.
‘Not possible. Shay’s the real deal. I’m telling you, it’s been like a complete whirlwind. I get giddy just thinking about him.’ Caz’s face was glowing, the excitement clear to see. ‘After all these years of shit boyfriends who mess me around and sell stories about me behind my back, I’ve finally found a good one. About bloody time too. My luck’s changed at last!’
Didi’s cheek muscles ached from smiling. It was agony having to hear the sheer pinch-me happiness in Caz’s voice. Caz clearly had no idea that they had once been a couple; he hadn’t thought to mention it. Then again, why would he? It was evidently irrelevant.
‘And the sex is out of this world,’ Caz went on cheerfully.
Thanks for that.
‘Sorry, am I over-sharing? I can’t help it, I’m just so happy. Isn’t it just the best feeling in the world, though? Well you know, you’ve got one of your own.’ She pointed with the dripping nail polish brush at the ring on Didi’s left hand. ‘What’s he like, your guy?’
‘He’s great! In every way.’ Didi marvelled at her own acting ability. ‘We make a good couple. I’m very lucky.’
‘There, all done. Now I’ve got to wait for them to dry.’ Caz admired her glowing orange toenails. ‘Then I’m going to head over to the house Shay’s doing up for his old man. I know it’s crazy, but I just want to be with him all the time. I’m like his groupie! If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to laugh?’
‘I promise.’ Oh please God, not more sex talk.
‘I know it’s only been three days, but it’s never felt this right before. After he left this morning, I called my mum and told her I’ve found my happy-ever-after.’ Sliding off the bed and walking like a duck with her toes splayed, Caz crossed the room and began brushing her ash-blonde hair. ‘I’ve been waiting to find someone like Shay my whole life.’
Chapter 30
‘What’s all this then?’ Will climbed out of the taxi on Monday evening and eyed the sack of gift-wrapped presents on the pavement outside Layla’s flat. ‘Working on the side as an out-of-season Santa?’
‘Be gentle, some of them are fragile.’
He lifted the bulky sack and placed it in the boot. ‘Someone’s birthday? Lucky them.’
Since he knew where he was taking her, it had to be pretty obvious whose birthday it was. Layla still got the feeling Will didn’t approve, but this evening she was too excited to care. ‘It’s Harry’s birthday . . . well, it’s actually tomorrow, but he’s heading up to Sheffield to see his parents tomorrow morning so we’re celebrating tonight. I love buying presents for people.’
‘Well you’ve certainly got plenty here.’ Will closed the boot and opened the passenger door for her.
‘I have.’ Layla beamed at him. ‘He’s worth it.’
Will said, ‘I used to love buying presen
ts for my mum. And she always complained about them.’
‘Why?’
‘She said I went over the top and spent too much.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘All she wanted was a card and maybe a small bunch of flowers, but nothing fancy. Anything else was a waste, that was what she told me, every time. And all I wanted to do was spoil her, give her lovely things to make her happy, even if she wasn’t well enough to go out and wear nice clothes in public. It’s hard trying to show someone you love them by buying them silk dressing gowns and bottles of their favourite perfume.’ With a rueful smile, he added, ‘Which they then refuse to wear.’
‘But she knew you loved her. You must miss her so much,’ said Layla.
He shrugged. ‘Of course I do. Then again, I was lucky to have her around for as long as I did. She could have died when I was a kid, like Shay Mason’s mum. That would have been so much worse.’
‘Oh my God.’ Harry did a massive double-take when he opened the door to his flat. ‘What’s all this? You’ve gone completely over the top. Here, let me help you . . .’
Once they were up the stairs, he dropped the sack onto the sofa and pulled Layla into his arms. ‘Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me . . .’
And when he’d finished kissing her, he said sincerely, ‘You gorgeous, beautiful thing . . . you’re the only present I want.’
‘Well that’s too bad,’ Layla teased as his hands roamed over her body, ‘because you have plenty more to unwrap.’
‘I’ll get to those later.’ His eyes glinted as he led her through to the bedroom. ‘You first.’
Afterwards, he opened the gifts, admiring the effort she’d gone to with the wrapping and decorations. Before long, the bed was covered with discarded gold paper and caramel satin ribbons.
‘A coffee machine.’ When the final present was revealed, he looked suitably surprised.
‘This is the one that had the best reviews. And these are the pods that go in them. I’ve bought two hundred, so you won’t have to worry about running out of coffee for a while.’ She patted the boxes of café au lait pods. ‘Or milk!’