After their omelets were eaten and a few more pleasantries shared, Eliza demanded, “All right, what haven’t you told me?”
Startled, Richard asked, “What do mean? I told you all about the wedding, all about the three women Mimi introduced me to, I even told you about the food. What more do you want?”
“I want to know why you’re so distracted. You’ve given me the highlights, but you’re holding something back, and it’s obviously the best part.” She commanded, “Spill it, Richard. I want to know everything.”
So he told her about Philippa. He told he how beautiful the Englishwoman was, how intensely attracted he was to her, and then, saving the best for last, he told her she was a sneaky, conniving, desperate woman who’d tried to use his dead father to get to him.
Eliza let her friend rant and rave, and carry on until he ran out of steam before she asked, “Why exactly are you discounting her?”
Richard inhaled sharply, “You’re taking her side?”
“What side? The way I see it, she delivered everything you were looking for. You wanted to find a beautiful woman who you were wildly attracted to and you did. What’s the problem?”
“Eliza,” Richard replied, “I’ve been stalked, tracked, followed and pursued, by some of the most scheming women in this city. I need to meet someone who doesn’t want to marry me sight unseen because I’m rich and successful. I simply want someone to share my life with, someone who’ll love me for me.”
“Again,” Eliza asked, “what’s the problem? Does the woman you marry have to have more money than you?”
“No,” he replied.
“Does she have to vow to live a life of poverty and not enjoy your money once she marries you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Richard snapped. “Of course she doesn’t. But I want to be sure of her motives and not just get trapped in her snare like an unsuspecting animal.”
Eliza shook her head, “Of course you don’t because you want to be the one to do the trapping. You need to take some of your own advice, my friend. You need to hop off the hamster wheel, as well, and realize that sometimes life just happens to you. You don’t get to orchestrate and map it out on your own. That’s not how the real world works.”
Richard left brunch feeling more exasperated than ever. How could Eliza accuse him of wanting to trap a woman? That wasn’t what he was after at all. He just wanted to meet someone on equal footing and not feel like he was on the receiving end of feminine machinations. He couldn’t imagine that was too much to ask for.
London
Chapter 29
Pip met Cressida and Sephra for lunch two days after she got home from Elliot’s wedding. Upon walking into the restaurant, she saw her friends were already seated and waiting for her. So much had occurred in the few short days she’d been away; it felt like she hadn’t seen them in years.
Sephra jumped up when she got to the table and announced, “Oh Pip, I have the best news!”
Cressida excitedly interrupted and declared, “Sephra and Liam are having a baby!”
Pip congratulated her friend and offered, “That’s wonderful, Seph. But, I didn’t think you guys wanted children.”
Sephra replied, “We didn’t. But when I was late, we sat down and had a big discussion about what we’d do if I was up the spout.” She laughed and added, “And we both knew in that moment we wanted to be parents. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Pip hoped all this happiness was contagious and agreed, “That is wonderful, Seph. I’m very happy for you both.”
“Oh, I have other good news!” her friend added. “Declan say he wants to ask you out again.”
“Declan?” Pip asked, confused.
“Yeah, you know, Liam’s mate from work. The one we had drinks with?”
Pip’s eye’s widened, “The fellow from three weeks ago? It took him three weeks to work out that he wanted to see me again?”
Sephra interrupted, “Who cares if it took him three weeks. He got there, didn’t he?”
Philippa answered, “It’s not a very flattering timeline though, is it?”
Sephra replied, “Crikey, girl. Who cares? He wants to see you again. You should go out with him. Who knows? He might wind up being the one.”
“I’m sure it’ll make a charming story for our grandkids.” She mimicked an old lady voice, “Your grandad fancied me so much it only took him three weeks to realize he wanted to see me again.”
Cressida declared, “Clearly something happened while you were at Elliot’s wedding.”
“Why would you say that?” Pip demanded.
Her friend replied, “Because the Pip of last week would have been delighted at the opportunity to go out on a second date. She wouldn’t have been sarcastic and angry. She would have been optimistic and excited.”
Pip knew she was right. So after ordering lunch, she filled her friends in on every detail of what happened while she was in America. She told them all about Mimi, the gorgeous wedding, and yes, she told them all about Richard.
When she was done, Sephra whistled, “Criminy, you’ve been busy.”
Cressida asked, “And you really haven’t spoken to Bertram since that night?”
Philippa replied, “No, I haven’t and if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep his distance.”
Sephra said, “But I thought he needed to pass on a certain number of messages before he was allowed to move into the next world. What’s happening to him while you’re not passing on those messages?”
Philippa started, “I have no idea. Truth be told, I’m not sure I care, either. I mean, after the mess he made of my life, I can’t say I’m overly interested in his afterlife.”
Cressida replied, “That’s not true, Pip. You know Bertram has no say over who you deliver messages to and what’s in them. Didn’t you say he apologized about the one you were to give to Richard, and said if it was up to him, you wouldn’t have to convey it?”
Sephra had an idea. She asked, “Bertram, are you there? If you are, I’d like a song please.” Not two seconds passed before her fringe fluttered up in a breeze. Then she commented, “Oh Bertram, that’s sad.”
Philippa couldn’t contain her curiosity, so she asked, “What song did he give you?”
Her friend replied, “‘Only the Lonely’ by Roy Orbison.”
“Pathetic,” Philippa spat. Then she added, “I have a song for you, Bertram. You might remember it. ‘Another One Bites the Dust.’”
He retaliated by giving her, “Hard to Say I’m Sorry,” by Chicago, of all bands. And the lyric, “Everybody needs a little time away, I heard her say, from each other . . .” popped into her head.
Philippa couldn’t hold back the spontaneous giggle that rose up in her. She told her friends about the song Bertram put in her head, and Sephra demanded, “Tell him you’re sorry right now, Philippa. I mean it.”
Pip nodded her head, “I am sorry, Bertram. I know the message wasn’t your fault, but you have to admit it was a rotten one for me to have to pass on.”
Bertram replied with Elton John’s, “Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word,” but he didn’t show up. He left the friends to dine in peace. They chatted about everything from Sephra and Liam’s new baby and how the nursery was to be decorated, to whether or not Pip should go out with Declan if he called. They talked excitedly about the bachelor auction and made a list of who Pip and Cressida would bid on. They covered every topic they could come up with, but not another word was spoken about Richard Bingham.
After lunch Pip and Cressida hurried to Claridge’s ballroom to meet the duchess. They had their last appointment with the catering staff and were finalizing the placement of the stage and all the other details. The bachelor auction was only two days away and the last minute tasks were starting to add up.
When they arrived, Honey was sitting at a table talking to Bertram, of all people, or rather ghosts, in his case.
Pip gave Honey a kiss on the cheek before sitting down and acknowledging, “
So Bertram, you’ve been spending time with the duchess, have you?”
Cressida greeted both Honey and Bertram, even though she couldn’t see the latter.
Bertram replied, “Honey has agreed to help me on a very important matter.” Smiling at the older lady, he asked, “Haven’t you, love?”
With a twinkle in her eye, she replied, “Yes, indeed, I have!” Then to Pip and Cressida she added, “We have a lot to do to get ready, dears.” She handed them the new program, fresh from the printers.
As they looked over it, Philippa demanded, “Honey, what have you done?!”
The duchess clapped her hands together and nearly squealed, “Isn’t it exciting? Of course, it was all Bertram’s idea!” Then she added, “I hadn’t thought of including international bachelors to our list, but why not? When you’re used to jet setting all over the world anyway, why wouldn’t these gentlemen be interested in meeting some of London’s most eligible ladies while helping out a deserving charity? It makes perfect sense.”
Bertram chose that moment to say, “Philippa, remember when I told you I might need a favor?”
She barely moved her head, but managed a curt nod in response.
“It’s time,” he said. “I need you to show up at this event and I need you to bid.” Pointing to one name in particular, he added, “And you have to win.”
Steam nearly poured out of Pip’s ears. “Absolutely not, Bertram! What in the world makes you think I’d do this for you after what you did to me?”
He shook his head and answered, “I can’t tell you that.”
Honey interrupted, “But I can!” She took Philippa and Cressida by the hands and instructed, “Come with me, ladies.”
Their older friend led them out of the hotel and into her car that was waiting. She instructed her driver, “Take us to Kent and Canterbury Hospital, please.”
Cressida gasped, “Sorry, Honey, that’s nearly two hours away and I’ve got appointments booked all afternoon. Any chance you can drop me off at the salon on your way?”
The duchess agreed, “Of course, dear.” To Philippa, she added, “I assume you’re coming?”
Pip merely nodded her head. She knew she was finally going to get some answers about Bertram and wouldn’t pass up that opportunity for anything in the world.
The women drove to Kent in relative silence. Honey kept dozing off, but even if she’d been awake, Pip wasn’t in the mood to talk. She had no idea why they were going to the hospital, but she knew Bertram’s daughter lived in Kent. While she didn’t know if he’d been married to Periwinkle’s mother or not, she assumed their trip had something to do with his little girl. She both wanted to know and didn’t want to know at the same time. It was an awful position to be in.
When they finally pulled up to the hospital, the duchess led the way. They walked through the retracting doors and turned right to a lift that took them to the third floor. After walking down a long hallway, they entered the neurological ward. Honey walked in as though she owned the place and consequently no medical personnel questioned them.
She stopped in front of room 364. She didn’t knock, rather she turned to Philippa and said, “Sometimes things aren’t what we think they are.” Then she crossed the threshold.
Pip followed close behind and stood next to Honey by the occupant’s bedside. She was looking at a man whose skin was so gray she was amazed he was still alive. That’s when she realized he was hooked up to a respirator.
Honey reached out and grabbed her hand, “He’s on life support and his wife has petitioned the courts to have it removed. If that happens he’ll die within minutes.”
Pip was confused and asked, “Who is he? Is he your son or nephew or something?”
Honey replied, “Look closely, Philippa. Go stand next to him and really look.”
So she did, and what she saw made her gasp, “My God, Honey, is that Bertram?”
“It is.” The old lady explained, “You knew something was different about him, didn’t you?”
Pip nodded, so the duchess continued, “It’s because he’s not dead like the others. He’s not trying to prove his worth to the afterlife by working with you. He’s trying to prove himself in this life, so he can come back to his daughter. If his wife removes life support he won’t have that option.
“I . . . I . . . I don’t know what to say, Honey. I had no idea. I mean, I’ve done everything I’ve been told to do, just like with all the others. What exactly does Bertram need me to do that I’m not already doing?”
Her contact materialized right next to his body and answered, “I need you to bid on Richard Bingham and I need you to win.”
“But why?” Pip demanded. “What in the world do you have to do with Richard Bingham?”
He answered, “I don’t have anything to do with him. My real job is to help you find love. If I can do that, while my body is still alive, then I get to go back to my life and live.” With tears in his ethereal eyes, he continued, “I get to watch my little girl grow up.”
Pip replied, “That’s unfair! That’s too much to put on me, Bertram! I already feel enough pressure to find my soulmate for myself, but to carry this burden for you as well, is more than I can take on.”
Looking at the ceiling as though searching for someone to hear her plea, she cried, “I can’t be responsible for whether or not this man gets to stay on Earth with his child. It’s too much. Please,”—she clasped her hand together and begged—“it’s too much.” The she broke down and cried in earnest.
Honey gave her a moment before asking, “Philippa dear, in all your experience working with the dead, have you ever doubted their messages for the loved ones they left behind? Have you ever questioned their integrity?”
“No,” she answered. “I guess not, but that was different.”
“How so?” she asked.
“Well, first of all those people really were dead. And secondly, those messages didn’t include me. They had nothing to do with me.”
Bertram answered, “I’m held to the same standards as those who’ve already left this world, love. And my motivation is the highest I could ever imagine.” He explained, “I wasn’t a very good husband and father when I was in my body. I wasn’t around enough, but I loved my wife and daughter; I still do.”
He continued, “I got into some trouble with a bad sort and when I didn’t have the dosh to pay them off, they beat the pulp out of me and left me for the Grim Reaper. I would have died for sure if Corrine hadn’t come and offered me another chance.” He added, “Pip, my body has lain there like a department store dummy for over ten months. My wife is ready to move on. She can’t keep mourning over me in this half-life.” He added, “And she’s met someone else. She wants to put me to rest, so she can move forward.”
With tears streaming down her face, Pip replied, “My God, Bertram, I’m so sorry, so very sorry.”
He answered, “Me too, love. But just because I don’t get to have my wife anymore doesn’t mean I don’t want to be a father to my child. She’s all I have left. She’s my life and I don’t get to have her if you don’t help me.”
Pip demanded, “But I can’t just force myself to fall in love with someone, can I? Because if I could, I’ll say I’m in love with whomever you want so you can come back. I’d do it, I really would!”
“I know, love, but you can’t pretend. You’ve got to feel it for real and you’ve got to trust me. I know a few things you don’t. You have to know my desire for you to find the right man is just as great as yours.”
Pip did trust him, but it wasn’t going to be easy to put her anger at Richard Bingham on the back burner and pretend she didn’t hate him with every fiber in her being.
The Auction
Chapter 30
Richard wasn’t exactly sure why he’d agreed to fly to London to take part in a bachelor auction for childhood lupus. But when Rachel called to say they were looking for eligible international bachelors to raise money for charity, he agreed. It might h
ave had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t get the Clash’s song “London Calling” out of his head. He woke up hearing it, he worked out at his club hearing it, and he went through the entire day with it rattling around in his brain. So when Rachel phoned to say that London actually had called, well, he took it as a sign.
His matchmaker told him she’d try to schedule a second date with Chantal when he got back, but warned the Frenchwoman had already been on second dates with two other men. If a third date was successful, she’d go off the books until she decided whether or not she had a future with that man. The East Side Yenta had a hard and fast rule that if you made it through three dates and wanted a fourth, you went exclusive with that person until you knew whether or not they were the one.
Richard packed his tuxedo along with a couple business suits and some casual gear. He decided if he was going to go all the way to London, he might as well pay a visit to some of his clients who were based there. It would allow them to feel the personal touch, and Richard knew a big part of being successful in business was making his clients feel important.
He went ahead and booked a room at the Claridge. After all, the auction would take place there and it was centrally located to the meetings he’d set up in town. Buckling into his first-class recliner, Richard leaned back and closed his eyes. He tried not to think of Philippa, but it was hard not to. There he was, going to London, and she lived in London. He knew the chances of running into her were nearly nonexistent, but still, it didn’t hurt to let his mind wander a bit.
He wondered where she lived and what kind of work she did. He pondered what her flat looked like and where she ate her meals. He questioned if she was a dog person or cat person. He speculated why a woman as beautiful as she was would make up such an outlandish story about his father thinking she was the perfect woman for him. Why would she have done such a ridiculous thing?
Richard let the motion of the airplane lull himself to sleep. His slumber was so deep his dream took on an aura of reality. He had the same vision he’d had before Mimi’s wedding, the one where he was getting married. His heavily veiled bride walked toward him as he waited at the altar. Again, he had no idea who she was. When the minister pronounced them man and wife, he lifted her veil and it was the blond man with the goatee and the two chipped front teeth. His greeting was the same, “Name’s Bertram. Bloody chuffed to meet you, mate.”
Kindred Spirits: A Romantic Comedy About Love, Life, and the Afterlife . . . Page 14