by Katie Fforde
‘So,’ Lorna asked, ‘how did Friday night’s date go?’
Peter, lord of all he surveyed and the house, all of which was currently under restoration, sighed. ‘Well, actually—’ He stopped, gulped and said, ‘It was amazing.’
Lorna’s heart fluttered a little. ‘Oh?’ Peter was an optimistic online dater, pursuing women at least two decades younger than his fifty-seven years. But because he still had a lot of good hair and teeth, not to mention a stately home, he had plenty to choose from. Most of his dates were disastrous, causing him and Lorna to laugh a lot when he told her about them later. So far, none of them had caused him to gulp. And while this went on, Lorna’s dreams were still intact.
He nodded. ‘Yes. Apart from being absolutely gorgeous, she was really intelligent, asked all the right questions.’ He sipped his coffee and then fumbled in his pocket for a packet of biscuits. He handed them to Lorna.
Lorna took one. She liked it when his dates had gone badly; she was waiting patiently for him to realise that he’d do much better with a woman his own age, i.e. her. They’d met as children, spent most of their lives apart, but here they both were, single, in the same location and yet not an item. ‘So go on,’ she said. ‘She didn’t just want to know about the size of your estate? In other words, check out if you were really rich or just bigging yourself up on the website?’
‘You’re cynical, you know that, Lorna?’
‘It’s how I stay healthy,’ she said and stretched out her leg in front of her. There were perfectly good benches they could have sat on but somehow they always sat on the steps of Burthen House, as if they were still children.
‘Well, you’d be pleased!’ Peter went on. ‘She wanted to hear about the garden and not just about old masters and stuccoed ceilings.’
‘That is a good sign. A woman with the right priorities.’
‘I told her you were restoring this for me and she wanted to know all about your plans.’
‘And you could tell her all about them, could you?’ Lorna smiled up at him, knowing full well that his interest in the garden was very superficial. He very much liked the idea of living in a stately home but wasn’t all that interested in the practicalities.
‘I just told her what I knew,’ he said, slightly on the defensive. ‘That you’d been restoring them for a couple of years and eventually hoped to get them back to how they had been.’
‘ “Eventually” is about the right timescale,’ said Lorna. ‘I need more help in the gardens if we’re really going to make a difference.’ She realised she was talking about the garden to stop him telling her about his wonderful date.
But Peter wasn’t cooperating. ‘Go on then. You have my permission to take on more staff, but let me tell you more about Kirstie.’
Lorna decided she had to be content with the thought of extra staff. If Peter hadn’t noticed she was the perfect wife for him by now, he probably never would. ‘So, what makes her better than the other young lovelies you’ve been out with?’
‘She has a brain. She’s a freelance events organiser. She’d heard of the Beatles, laughed at my jokes, was generally – well, brilliant. And so pretty.’
Lorna smiled to hide her sigh. ‘I can’t wait to meet her.’
She’d felt sarcastic when she said it but he didn’t pick it up. ‘Well, isn’t that perfect? You are going to meet her.’
‘Am I? When?’
‘As soon as I can arrange it. I’m going to have a dinner party, invite Mother, too.’ He frowned ever so slightly, his brows drawing together above his aristocratic nose. ‘I think she should meet Mother sooner rather than later or it’ll be difficult.’
‘Would it?’
He flapped his hand. ‘Of course it would! You know what she’s like. A horrendous snob and can be quite spiky with people she doesn’t like.’
Lorna did know what she was like. Peter’s mother, Lady Anthea Leonard-Stanley, was a friend of hers. Anthea and Lorna’s mother had been great friends and Lorna had always got on with her too. It was through Anthea that Lorna had got the job of garden designer and restorer (and, mostly, weeder and digger) for Burthen House. She was very kind-hearted but didn’t suffer fools. Lorna didn’t think she was always a snob but could be snippy about her son’s unsuitable girlfriends.
‘But you’d invite other people? It wouldn’t just be you and Kirstie, and me and Anthea?’ The thought was horrifying.
It obviously horrified Peter too. ‘Good God, no! We’re going to invite several people. Kirstie knows someone who can cater it. Although we might need to find someone who could help serve.’
Lorna frowned. ‘Peter? You’ve been on one date and you’re already saying “we” and giving a dinner party together. Aren’t you rushing things a bit?’
He looked at Lorna and Lorna looked back, wishing she didn’t find him so attractive. She’d had a crush on him when she was seven and although most of the intervening years had been spent apart, both with spouses for at least some of the time, she still felt the same.
He looked distracted. ‘Lorna, after our date was over and I’d seen her home safely, I rang her, just to say goodnight and – well, we talked almost all night.’
Lorna’s fluttering heart descended to her Hunter wellies and stayed there. This was serious. She could remember those times when you first meet and don’t want to stop talking.
‘And then we spent the whole weekend together. Reg drove her home for me on Sunday night.’
Reg was Peter’s driver. ‘I see. You’re in love then.’ She tried to sound upbeat and felt she’d managed quite well.
‘Yes!’ He looked at her properly for the first time that day. ‘You are pleased for me, aren’t you?’
Lorna took a sip of coffee to give herself an extra moment to compose herself. ‘If she’s really right for you, and you both really love each other in a way that will last forever, then of course I’m happy for you. How could I be otherwise?’
‘I’m so glad, because I sometimes wondered – you know—’ He stopped.
As Lorna knew him so well she knew perfectly well what was in his mind: did she have romantic feelings for him? Well, she had to put that idea out of his head, especially because it was true.
She laughed, praying it sounded amused and not desperately embarrassed. ‘Peter! I admit I did quite fancy you when I was seven but that was a long time ago.’
‘So you’re really, really happy for me?’
‘Of course!’ And in time she would be. One of the things about loving people was that you did, on the whole, want the best for them.
‘It’s just I know my mother always wanted us to get together and she’ll never forgive me if I’ve broken your heart.’
This time her laugh was a little less strained. She had always wondered if Anthea knew how she felt about Peter. ‘Would you like me to go and see her and assure her you haven’t?’
‘Would you? I’d be so grateful. It’s going to be hard enough getting her onside without her thinking that Kirstie has cut you out in some way.’
‘I can see that.’ She hesitated. ‘Have you a date for this dinner party?’ She wanted to ask if they’d been too busy exchanging life histories and lovemaking to get down to the practicalities but held back. Nothing she said must even hint that he’d been right about her feelings.
‘We thought maybe Saturday week? Are you free?’ Lorna got out her phone and checked her diary although she knew perfectly well she was free.
‘Seems to be OK.’
‘And you can find someone to wait at table?’
‘Have you thought of taking on a personal assistant? You can afford it and it would make your life – and mine too, come to that – so much easier.’
He blinked. ‘Why employ an assistant when you can have a lovely new wife to do it all for you?’
She smiled, acknowledging she recognised that he was joking. ‘She could be an interim measure, until you get a lovely new wife?’
He shook his head. ‘Not nec
essary, I’m positive. Kirstie is the one. I can’t wait for you to meet her. I know you’ll get on.’
3
Leaving Burthen House, Lorna walked home across the park that once had deer roaming in it, and would one day, she hoped, have some rare-breed sheep. She’d heard Peter being enthusiastic about girlfriends before but this was different. He was obviously besotted. And if Kirstie felt the same, then there was no point in her keeping her little flame of hope alive. She’d better just try and get over it.
‘Lorna!’ said Anthea, opening her front door wide. ‘How wonderful to see someone civilised. And it means I can have coffee.’
Lorna slipped her feet out of her boots. Peter’s mother lived in the Dower House. The fact that there was such a handsome one as part of the estate had been one of the reasons he’d bought it, that and the fact he had to do something with the obscene amount of money he earned.
Anthea was a firm friend to Lorna and she followed her into her kitchen.
‘And have you heard?’ Anthea went on. ‘Peter is officially in love!’ She managed to make this state sound unspeakably vulgar.
‘He does seem very happy.’ Glad that she didn’t have to break this news, Lorna kept her tone neutral.
‘He sounds deranged.’ Anthea slapped the kettle on to her ancient Aga. ‘He’s just been on the telephone. Told me about this dinner party. To be honest, Lorna darling, I’d find it easier if he wasn’t so ecstatic. I mean, has he lost all his critical faculties? He’s nearly sixty, for God’s sake.’
‘Speaking as someone who’s getting on that way I don’t think it necessarily makes you any wiser.’
‘Well, no,’ Anthea agreed. ‘But when it’s one’s son involved, one does rather hope it might.’ The kettle having now boiled, Anthea filled a coffee pot with water to warm it and then set about finding beans, grinding them and eventually putting two pots on the table, one with coffee, the other with hot milk. ‘I always have instant when I’m on my own so it’s nice to have an excuse to make proper coffee.’
Lorna, who had seated herself at the table, breathed in the smell. ‘I think you make the best coffee of anyone I know.’
Anthea put down two bone-china mugs – a compromise between her really preferring cups and saucers and yet appreciating mugs didn’t need topping up so often. ‘Thank you.’ She began pouring. ‘So you don’t think Peter’s gone entirely mad? Meeting this girl one night and practically moving her in the next?’
‘Is she moving in?’ This was news and a shock.
‘No, I don’t think so. But this dinner party – apparently she’s asking lots of her friends who have to stay the night. What the poor staff will do about proper bedlinen I don’t know.’ She frowned. ‘It’s just it’s all so sudden. And I’ll have to do flowers.’
‘I thought you loved doing flowers. I thought that was your thing.’
‘It is, but I’m on church flower duty that week and won’t want to be up at the house trying to hide the damp patches behind the arrangements.’ Anthea took a comforting sip of coffee.
‘I could ask Philly to do them,’ Lorna suggested. ‘I’m already going to ask her to wait at table. Apparently Kirstie knows a good caterer but he needs a waiter. Possibly a kitchen assistant too. Philly could do both. If she’s not too busy with her market stall.’
‘Is Philly the one who raises plants for you? Nice girl. Although she always looks at me as if I’m going to eat her.’ Anthea frowned. ‘Maybe it would be better if I didn’t try and smile. It’s the smile that terrifies them.’
Lorna laughed. ‘She is shy but very efficient. I’ll ask her to help out but we have to get Peter to pay her properly.’
‘Hmm. The trouble with Peter is he’s always been so charming he expects to get everything for nothing. I’ll get him to pay her a hundred pounds. Is that enough? I mean, it sounds like a small fortune to me but I’m still living in the Dark Ages.’
‘It would be generous but appropriate,’ said Lorna, glad to think Philly would get a reasonable sum out of it. ‘I just hope she can help.’
‘I’m sure for a hundred pounds she’ll be able to,’ said Anthea. ‘Did you want a biscuit? Toast?’ When Lorna had shaken her head, she went on: ‘So what do we think about this Kirstie?’
‘Without having met her, it’s hard to say, but Peter is obviously enraptured.’
‘Doesn’t sound a good thing at his age.’
‘I think it’s lovely. Don’t we all want to be swept off our feet?’
‘Absolutely not! Didn’t want it when I was a girl, don’t want it now.’ Anthea sounded so appalled and so vehement, she obviously shocked herself. ‘Of course I was in love with my husband, but it was an emotion that grew as we got to know each other. It wasn’t a coup de foudre. I distrust passionate emotions that come out of nowhere.’
‘Well, I see your point,’ said Lorna, whose loyalties were stretched in both directions. She would have enjoyed having an old-fashioned bitch about this unknown woman but also wanted to support Peter. If this was the real thing, she had to go along with it. ‘But judging by what he’s told me about her, she seems nice. Interested in the gardens, which makes me inclined to like her.’
‘You don’t think she’s just after him for his money, do you?’
‘I shouldn’t think so. I mean, the house needs a lot of doing up. He doesn’t flaunt his wealth. She may not know he’s rich.’
‘He’s mean, you mean.’
Lorna laughed. ‘Not really! I mean, I know he’s careful – probably how he got to be so rich – but he doesn’t have a flashy car – if you overlook having a driver.’ She paused. ‘Actually, him having a driver will tell her exactly how rich he is. But let’s give her the benefit of the doubt. At least until we’ve met her.’
‘Very well then. We’ll be on our best behaviour and tear her apart afterwards.’
‘But only if she holds her knife like a pen,’ said Lorna.
Anthea laughed. ‘I do wish it could have been you, Lorna. We’ve always understood each other.’
‘Well, if it’s not meant, it’s not. We’ll always be friends anyway. And I hope he’s very happy.’
‘Very magnanimous of you, dear. Personally I’d want that outrageous fortune for myself!’
‘To be honest, being happy in my work, which I am, having a nice house, which – thanks to you and Peter’s estate – I have, and being healthy is pretty much enough.’ It wasn’t absolutely enough but Lorna wasn’t going to share that. ‘And having my son also well and happy and in work, which I’m pleased to tell you is currently the situation, is almost perfect.’
‘How very wise you are, my dear,’ said Anthea.
Wishing she felt as wise as the impression she had given Anthea, Lorna went home to get her car and then drove to Philly’s.
Philly was in the greenhouse, checking her plants. She jumped when she heard someone behind her. ‘Oh, Lorna, it’s you. How nice.’
‘I found Seamus and he told me you were here. He said you wouldn’t mind if I came and found you. Please don’t let me stop you working.’
‘Did you come to see what I’m growing for this season? I’d just decided that I’ve chosen all the wrong stuff and none of it will sell.’
Lorna laughed. ‘You said that last year and everything went.’
‘Because you bought it!’ Philly was never sure if basing a business on only one client was sensible. It meant there wasn’t any wastage but she knew her parents would say it was putting all her eggs in one basket.
‘You grew what I wanted. But I’m not here about that. I have a job for you.’ Lorna frowned slightly. ‘Maybe if you’re ready to stop we could talk about it in the house?’
‘That sounds mysterious, but I’m more than happy to stop.’
Philly led the way to the house wondering what Lorna was looking awkward about. She made them both tea and found some cake.
‘This is why I came, really,’ said Lorna. She was seated at the kitchen table, looking enthusi
astic as Philly cut into the chocolate confection.
‘This is what my grandfather calls “gattox”,’ said Philly. ‘He won’t be told that only works if there’s more than one of them.’
‘I’m going to call it gattox myself now you’ve told me,’ said Lorna.
‘So,’ said Philly. ‘What can I do for you?’
Lorna frowned again. ‘Well, it’s two things and I’m not sure you’re going to be keen because it’s on a Saturday and I know you’re busy at the market on Saturdays.’
‘Is it a waitressing job? That’s OK, it’ll be in the evening.’
‘It is a waitressing job but they also want you to do the flowers. It’s for Peter and…’ Lorna paused just for a second, ‘Kirstie. He has a new girlfriend and they’re having a dinner party so he can show her off to people – his mother, me, et cetera.’
‘Oh.’ Philly had always suspected that Lorna had a soft spot for Peter herself, although she’d never said anything. ‘What’s she like? Have you met her?’
‘No. The dinner party will be the first time. She’s got a caterer but he wants a waiter and maybe some prepping help. And Anthea wants you to do the flowers.’
‘It would be a long day but I expect it’ll be OK. Do they want me to provide flowers as well?’
‘I think they expect you to just cut a few branches from the grounds. There are some trees just coming into leaf, some winter-flowering things still doing their thing and lots and lots of bulbs.’
‘That is the sort of flower arranging I like,’ said Philly.
‘That’s what I thought. And I’ve managed to get you a hundred pounds. But that includes the waitressing.’
‘That sounds OK,’ said Philly, having done a quick sum. ‘Better than the minimum wage anyway. I wonder if they’d mind if I did the flowers the day before?’