And Now You're Back

by Jill Mansell

  ‘Thank you! See? Didi agrees with me. You’ve been through a shit time and now you have to take a few weeks off. As soon as I’ve finished in Cape Town we could spend a fortnight in St Lucia, then fly on to New Zealand before I start my next job . . . if it goes ahead.’

  ‘I don’t know . . .’ Shay was raking his fingers through his hair, clearly still unconvinced.

  ‘Babe, take it from me, it’s what you need. And I’ll be there to look after you, won’t I?’ Reaching up, Caz kissed him tenderly on the mouth. ‘All I want to do is make you feel better, then—’

  ‘Didi, found you!’ Sylvia had finished her shift and belatedly come to pay her respects. Waving and hurrying towards them in her cerise dress, she exclaimed, ‘Why haven’t you been answering your phone?’

  ‘I turned it off in the church.’ It was a fairly basic requirement when you were attending a funeral, although Red would probably have found it amusing if a comedy ringtone had suddenly blasted out during the eulogy. ‘I didn’t get round to turning it on again. Why, what’s happened?’

  ‘You’ve got a surprise.’ Sylvia’s eyes danced. ‘Waiting for you back at the hotel. Oh . . .’ She turned apologetically to Shay. ‘So sorry about your dad. Was it a lovely service? Looks like you’re giving him a wonderful send-off.’

  Shay nodded. ‘Thanks.’

  After an awkward moment, Didi said, ‘What kind of surprise?’ Well, she had to ask. Maybe a Michelin inspector had just paid a visit to the restaurant and been so bowled over by his lunch that he’d cast off his anonymity in order to shower praise on—

  ‘It’s Aaron!’ Clearly over the moon, Sylvia clapped her hands with delight. ‘I told him you were here, but obviously it wouldn’t be right to have a wonderful romantic reunion at a wake. So he’s waiting for you at the hotel! Isn’t that just the most fantastic surprise? He’s flown all the way back from New York because he missed you so much! And let me tell you, he is handsomer than ever!’

  What the hell?

  ‘Look at her, she can’t believe it,’ Caz exclaimed. ‘She’s stunned!’

  That was certainly true.

  ‘Your face is a picture,’ whooped Sylvia. ‘Oh, we should have videoed this!’

  ‘Love’s young dream.’ Caz did a comedy swoon and turned to Shay. ‘I hope you’re always going to be this romantic with me.’

  ‘Shall I call the hotel, let him know you’re on your way back?’ Sylvia already had her phone out.

  ‘I can’t leave yet.’ Didi recovered the power of speech. ‘This is Red’s wake.’

  ‘Of course you can,’ said Caz. ‘Red wouldn’t want you staying here – he’d be the first one to tell you to get yourself back to the hotel. Wouldn’t he?’ She turned to Shay for confirmation.

  He nodded, clearly distracted by more urgent concerns. ‘Caz is right. It’s fine. You should go.’

  Chapter 42

  In the past when she’d been busy at work and Aaron had arrived at the hotel by taxi, he’d always greeted her exuberantly in front of a crowd, for maximum impact. This time he was waiting for her in the otherwise empty hallway, and as soon as he caught sight of her, hope flared in his eyes.

  ‘Didi.’ He hurried towards her and gave her a quick hug. ‘Can we go up to your flat?’

  She nodded; he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want an audience.

  Up the polished wooden staircase they went. As soon as her door closed behind them, Aaron blurted out, ‘I’ve missed you so much. Oh God, you have no idea.’

  ‘Is that why you’re here?’ Didi shook her head. ‘I’m confused.’

  ‘You’re not the only one.’ He took a step closer. ‘Sylvia seems to think you and I are still getting married in December and that I’ve flown back from New York to see you.’

  ‘Ah.’ She’d invented his secondment to the New York branch of the company to explain his absence.

  ‘Show me your hands.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Please.’

  Didi held out her hands and Aaron’s gaze flickered over them. ‘OK, the reason I’m here is because I was at a business meeting in Leeds yesterday and one of my colleagues showed me a photo he’d seen in the paper.’

  Still none the wiser, Didi said, ‘A photo of what?’

  ‘Of you. I don’t make a habit of reading the tabloids, obviously, but this was pointed out to me.’ He opened his phone and held it up to show her the screenshot. It was a recent photograph of Caz returning to the hotel. Spotting her climbing out of a taxi, Didi had gone outside to welcome her, whereupon someone on the other side of the road had captured the moment on camera. As they’d greeted each other with enthusiasm, Didi’s left hand had been outstretched.

  And there, clearly visible on her third finger, was the diamond, glittering away in the bright sunlight.

  ‘So you’re still wearing my ring. And you don’t appear to have told anyone here that we broke up.’ Aaron tilted his head. ‘Which leads me to think you’ve been regretting what you said to me and trying to pluck up the courage to admit you made a massive mistake. Am I right?’

  Didi’s heart was sinking ever lower. She’d landed herself in this mess and now, somehow or other, she had to get out of it.

  It took a while. Aaron had never been one for admitting that he might have got hold of the wrong end of the stick. Didi was forced to invent an over-eager suitor with a bit of a crush on her who’d made it necessary for her to pretend she was still engaged. Aaron wanted to know who the suitor was, but she refused to tell him. He then asked if anything had happened between her and Shay and she was able to assure him truthfully that it hadn’t.

  ‘But I told you you could go for it. I gave you my permission.’ He seemed frustrated that she hadn’t taken advantage of his generous offer.

  ‘Shay’s seeing Caz. Plus, I didn’t want to sleep with him.’

  Aaron gestured with frustration. ‘But how are you going to get him out of your system if you don’t?’

  Twenty minutes later, a text from Sylvia arrived on Didi’s phone:

  So so sorry to interrupt, but the Walker-Dunns are here – they want to book the hotel for an eightieth birthday party and are insisting they speak to you about it.

  ‘I have to go,’ she told Aaron. ‘Something needs sorting downstairs.’

  ‘Work, work, all you care about is this bloody hotel.’ He gave a snort of disgust. ‘If you’d come down to London more often, none of this would have happened and we’d still be together.’

  Didi was pierced with a mixture of sadness and relief. Maybe that was true. All she knew was that if Shay hadn’t returned to Elliscombe, remembering what real love felt like might have passed her by. But he had returned, all the old dormant emotions had come surging back, and she’d realised just how important those feelings were in order to live a complete life.

  She might not be able to spend that life with Shay, but nor could she stay in a relationship with someone she now knew she didn’t love nearly enough.

  ‘We still could be together,’ Aaron persisted. ‘If you change your mind, I could make you happy.’

  And in some ways he probably could. But again, not happy enough.

  Didi swallowed. ‘I’m sorry. Please take the ring back.’

  As if recognising finally that her mind was made up, Aaron said, ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Quite sure.’ It came off her finger with ease; she’d lost weight without even being aware of it.

  He zipped it into his wallet and gave her a hug, which was a far nicer way to end it than last time in London.

  ‘There’s more to life than just this place, remember.’ He regarded her sympathetically. ‘I hope you come to realise that.’

  Didi nodded. ‘Thanks. I’ll sort myself out. You be happy too.’

  The Walker-Dunns were waiting for her downstairs. For the next two hours, closeted with her in the office, they went through a long and elaborate list of requirements for the birthday celebrations to be held in January. By the time t
hey left, having discussed everything in exhaustive detail, Didi had developed a killer headache.

  ‘You look exhausted,’ said Sylvia.

  ‘I am.’

  She winked. ‘Not surprised. Sorry about interrupting the big reunion. What a shame Aaron couldn’t stay any longer.’

  ‘Just a flying visit. He had to get back to London.’ Didi winced, her brain feeling as if it was being squeezed in a vice. ‘Look, I don’t want this headache to turn into a migraine. I’m going to catch up on some sleep.’

  ‘Oh you poor thing! That’s the trouble with these romantic reunions,’ Sylvia said with a grin. ‘They do take it out of you.’

  Back at Hillcrest, there were still a hundred or so mourners determined not to leave. The wake was turning into a proper party as tradition dictated, with music and dancing and wild stories from the old days being retold with relish.

  It had taken Maura this long to pluck up the courage, but now the time had come. Knocking back the rest of her glass of white wine, she saw that the wobbly-chinned woman in the tight trouser suit had collected her handbag and was starting to say her goodbyes.

  Maura tracked her progress around the house, then stealthily followed her outside. There were cars parked the length of the lane, and the woman was jangling a set of keys as she trotted along the verge. There would be CCTV in the jeweller’s shop; it was far safer to do it out here.

  ‘Hello?’ Maura quickened her pace, calling out to attract the woman’s attention. ‘Sorry to bother you, is your name Pat?’

  Pat turned and nodded. ‘It is, my love. And you’re the one from the hotel. Maura, am I right?’

  Maura nodded, feeling sick. ‘I used to live at the hotel. I have something . . . I asked Red, and he said you’d help me . . .’

  ‘Yes, he gave me a call, mentioned someone might be in touch. Didn’t say it was you, though.’ Pat’s chins wobbled as she gave a knowing smile. ‘Got it with you?’

  Maura’s hands shook as she took the tightly wrapped package out of her bag. Glancing back over her shoulder at the house, she said, ‘I just want it gone, OK? Red said you could break it up, retrieve the stones and melt down the gold.’

  ‘I can do that, yes. Let’s just have a little look, shall we? See what we’re dealing with.’

  ‘Could we sit in your car?’ Maura blurted out. ‘Would that be easier?’

  ‘I’m just up here.’ Pat sounded amused.

  Once inside the green Nissan, she unfastened the package and took out the emerald necklace.

  ‘I’m giving the money to charity.’

  ‘Of course you are.’

  Pat could blackmail her, Maura realised. She watched as the woman reached across, took a jeweller’s loupe from the glove compartment and held up the necklace in order to expertly examine the stones.

  ‘Nice.’ She nodded. ‘We’ll say fifty-fifty, shall we?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘There needs to be something in it for me, love. I don’t handle stolen goods for nothing, do I?’

  ‘It’s not stolen. It’s my necklace.’ As she spoke, the rear passenger door was yanked open and she jumped a mile.

  Pat said easily, ‘All right, you two? Just doing a spot of business before I give you a lift to the station.’

  ‘What you got there then, Pat?’ Big Gav leaned forward and took the necklace from her. Oh fuck, and his wife was with him too.

  ‘This lady’s asking me to break it up for her. Seems a shame really. Lovely bit of workmanship. Cost a few bob, I’ll be bound.’

  Fuck fuck fuck. Maura twisted round in horror to look at Big Gav, the man who’d committed the robbery in the first place.

  ‘Well well,’ he said cheerfully, ‘I always wondered what happened to that necklace. Because I sure as hell knew I didn’t have it.’

  ‘I’m giving the money to charity,’ Maura stammered.

  ‘Well don’t expect me to do that with my share.’ Pat’s cackle of laughter resembled a crumpled crisp packet. ‘Because it’s not gonna happen!’

  Big Gav gave Maura’s shoulder a prod from behind. ‘How much is she asking for, then?’

  ‘Half.’ She just wanted to be gone. He reeked of cider. This was like being involved in some terrifying gangland TV drama. They could murder her right now and throw her body in a ditch, to be torn apart and eaten by foxes.

  ‘Hey, be nice to her,’ chided Big Gav’s wife. ‘It’s Red’s funeral, yeah? Do the decent thing and give her the cash. He’s done both of you enough favours in his time.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Big Gav, ‘pay her the money and let’s get out of here. We’ve got a train to catch.’

  Maura blinked as Pat opened her bag and burrowed in it before pulling out several rolls of twenty-pound notes. ‘OK then, take it. Six grand and count yourself lucky I’m in a good mood.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Maura mumbled, opening the passenger door and almost falling out in her hurry to escape.

  ‘Make sure it goes to a good cause,’ said Big Gav.

  Maura just wished she could wipe the photographic images of him naked from her brain. ‘I will,’ she croaked.

  ‘And I never want to see you near my shop, neither,’ Pat yelled as she fired up the engine. ‘I’ve got a reputation to think of. Don’t need it being ruined by bloody amateurs.’

  When Didi woke up the next morning, it was six o’clock and still dark outside, but the sound of suitcase wheels rumbling across the pavement indicated that at least one guest was checking out early.

  Peering through the diamond-leaded bedroom window overlooking the high street, she watched as a driver hauled the case into the back of a taxi. The next moment Caz came into view, emerging from the hotel’s front entrance in a pale sweatshirt, fuchsia-pink leggings and flip-flops. So wherever she was heading, it was warmer than here.

  The next next moment, a tall figure dressed in black carried out another case. Didi’s stomach clenched in recognition, just as it did every time she clapped eyes on Shay. He’d clearly stayed here last night with Caz, escaping the post-wake chaos at Hillcrest.

  Was he going with her to the airport just to wave her off? It looked like it. As Didi rested her forehead on the cold glass, Caz looked up, spotting her in the window. She nudged Shay and pointed, before waving madly and blowing Didi a kiss. After a moment, Shay raised his hand too, forcing her to smile down at them and wave back.

  Then together they climbed into the taxi. Didi’s smile fell away as the gleaming black car headed off up the high street. If Shay was accompanying Caz to the airport just to see her off at this time of the morning, he must love her a lot.

  Lucky, lucky Caz.

  But when she made her way downstairs an hour later, showered and dressed and ready to start work for the day, Sylvia said, ‘Caz Holloway checked out early.’

  ‘Right.’ Didi nodded.

  ‘Back to South Africa. Taken Shay with her.’

  Taken him with her? For how long?

  ‘Won’t she be working?’

  ‘Only for the next couple of days, she said. Then they’re heading off to St Lucia, imagine that! Caz decided he needed to get away from it all, have a proper break, so she booked everything last night. All right for some! Oh dear, apart from losing his dad. Of course he deserves a break after that.’ Changing the subject, Sylvia said hastily, ‘Ooh, did you see that photo of you and Caz in the Mail online? Didn’t she look gorgeous in it?’

  ‘I did see.’ Didi nodded. ‘Aaron showed it to me.’

  Sylvia beamed at her. ‘Ah, and wasn’t it a great photo of the front of the hotel? What a shame you weren’t wearing any make-up!’

  Chapter 43

  ‘There!’ Angel whipped off the navy nylon cape with a flourish and stepped back to admire her handiwork. ‘Like it?’

  ‘Love it.’ Layla tilted her head, her hair swinging from one side to the other; it made a nice change, being happy with the end result rather than struggling to hold back tears. ‘You’re brilliant!’

  ‘I
know.’

  ‘You’re going to be stuck with me from now on, I hope you realise that.’

  ‘Great. Speaking of being stuck with someone, your admirer’s just turned up.’

  ‘He’s not my admirer.’ Layla felt her cheeks heat up. Through the plate-glass window, she saw Will expertly reversing into a parking space on the square.

  ‘OK, your driving instructor.’

  ‘Not that either,’

  ‘Fine then, the nice man who’s helping you get your confidence back so you can start driving again.’ Mischievously, Angel added, ‘The handsome man who’s too shy to admit he fancies you rotten.’

  ‘Oh don’t say that. He doesn’t.’

  ‘Does too.’

  Layla hesitated. ‘Do you really think he’s handsome?’

  ‘Who, Will? Yes!’ said Angel.

  ‘God, yes,’ exclaimed Anthony, one of the senior stylists. ‘And in that understated way, which is what makes him so much more attractive.’

  ‘I know what you mean.’ Matt joined in. ‘It’s those V-neck sweaters he wears over button-down shirt collars, and those eyes behind his glasses. He’s like Elliscombe’s answer to Clark Kent.’

  The older woman whose hair he was highlighting said, ‘Matt, all these years and I never knew you were gay.’

  ‘I’m not. But I can still appreciate the way he looks.’

  ‘Like a sexy chemistry teacher,’ Anthony chimed in. ‘I wish he was gay, I’d be after him like a shot.’

  ‘He only has eyes for Layla.’ Now wielding a giant can of extra-hold hair lacquer, Angel said, ‘Spray?’

  And Layla, who always found herself politely saying yes to spray even when she didn’t really want it, had a sudden vision of herself and Will together in the car, kissing passionately. She blinked. ‘No thanks, let’s leave it as it is.’

  It had been just over a month since her relationship with Harry had come to an abrupt end, but it felt more like a year and she hadn’t missed him for so much as a minute. But maybe, just maybe, she’d been missing out on someone else . . .