by Penny Parkes
‘I’ll phone him later,’ Lizzie said quietly, obviously in shock. ‘It looks like he’s got his hands full this morning. Poor Con. I just can’t believe this has happened. I mean Rachel can only have been mid-thirties – that’s not high-risk, is it?’
‘So, when you said you knew him?’ Holly clarified.
‘He went to school with Will. Did I never mention it?’ Lizzie looked confused.
‘Er, no,’ said Holly. ‘I think I might have remembered that.’
Lizzie shrugged apologetically. ‘He’s such a nice guy. Really into bees and honey and stuff. That’s why they bought the farm.’ She paused. ‘You know he has, like, twenty million followers on Twitter? He’s Big-Time.’ She flicked open her phone and tapped at the screen. ‘Oh!’ she said in surprise.
Holding up the screen she showed the others his pinned tweet: a beautiful photograph of his pregnant wife and a single line of text:
#RuralLivesCount
Holly blinked hard. It always felt that their issues and struggles in Larkford happened in isolation; that no matter how hard they fought to keep their way of life and their healthcare provision, they were essentially David fighting Goliath.
This time, for the first time, their own battles felt like a part of something bigger than themselves. Connor Danes was the public face of the problems they were dealing with now, whether he liked it or not. But why did it always take such heartbreaking tragedies to act as a wake-up call, Holly wondered.
‘That poor man,’ she murmured again, as she gently rubbed her pregnant belly and tried to ignore the nibbles of fear in her subconscious.
Chapter 46
Alice stepped through her front door that evening and was struck yet again by the phenomenal changes that she and Grace had wrought together over the last few days. Softly, softly, they had tirelessly worked from room to room, and now the only vestiges of her previously tangled life were the garments on the hanging rail ready to be photographed for her pop-up boutique, Vintage by Alice.
Books were now measured by shelving-mile rather than heaps; the kitchen table was completely clear, bar a stunning jasmine loop; and there was even space on the mantelpiece for any opportune invitations to take pride of place. In short, it had been nothing less than a miracle, and the local charity shop had been thrilled by her donations, not even baulking as their storeroom quickly filled to capacity. It was quite some gesture on their part to agree that all proceeds should go to the Auction Fund, but it certainly had made Alice’s keep/lose decisions somewhat easier.
Bumping into Elsie as she’d made yet another donation run last week had been perfect serendipity. Not only had Elsie immediately snapped up two of her Hermès scarves on the spot, but she’d been seemingly thrilled by Alice’s resolve to change. Alice could still almost feel Elsie’s firm grasp on her shoulders, as she’d looked into her eyes with affection and determination: ‘This is only the beginning for you, Alice,’ she’d said. ‘One of the greatest skills you will ever need is how to edit. You might be starting with your wardrobe, and your bookshelf, but soon it will be your thoughts and your beliefs – master this, my love, won’t you? It will honestly change your life for the better. Make it yours – authentically.‘
Alice stared at the Post-it on the fridge where she’d hurriedly scribbled this sage advice for future reference. It was so on point, it spoke to her on a deeply personal level. Indeed, it almost echoed Grace’s response when they’d talked in the park about relationships. Maybe a little editing of her personal beliefs should be next on her list, she realised.
She looked around, throwing open a window to allow the evening breeze to lift the air in the room. There was only one thing missing, she thought, hesitating, her eyes flicking to the Post-it yet again.
She sank down onto her knees and Coco immediately nuzzled against her, always up for a hug and a tickle. ‘What do you think, Coco? Are we ready for this?’
Coco’s only reply was the rhythmic thumping of her tail against the floorboards. Alice scruffed her ears adoringly – her relationship with Coco had only deepened through all these months of insecurity. Knowing that they had a plan in place, however tentative, meant that Alice had actually slept this weekend, for the first time in years. Despite all the drama at the wedding, she had come home and slept for eight hours straight.
It was nothing short of revelatory.
And she had Grace and Jamie to thank for that – allowing herself to be vulnerable had been one of the hardest things she had ever asked of herself, and yet look at the rewards. For the first time, she was beginning to feel as though her life was authentically hers, to do with as she pleased—
The chirruping of a Skype call echoed throughout the room – echoed! who knew? – and Alice leapt up to answer. ‘Tilly!’ she cried. ‘You’re never going to believe this—’ Picking up her iPad, she turned the screen around and gave her friend the full guided tour. Even from the other side of the planet, Tilly’s gasps of impressed surprise were voluble and heartfelt.
Alice sank down into the sofa cushions and turned the iPad again, so that her own face, and Coco’s as she lay on her chest, filled the tiny square window in the corner. Alice’s eyes flickered down to her own image, realising with a jolt what looked so different – well, firstly it was daylight, obviously, but also she looked happy. No, not just happy – content, maybe?
Tilly on the other hand looked utterly drained and bedraggled. ‘I am beyond impressed, Walker,’ she said with feeling, even as some kind of tropical storm clearly whooped and hollered outside her cabin. ‘You actually did it? I was beginning to think I would have to tunnel you out on my next visit!’
‘It wasn’t that bad!’ Alice protested, even as some small part of her brain acknowledged that, in reality, that had been exactly where she had been heading.
‘Who knew you could stage an intervention over Skype!’ teased Tilly. ‘But seriously – does the silly smile on your face mean this is actually just the beginning? Are you in danger of letting people into your life, as well as your wardrobe?’
Her friend’s unerring knack to see straight through her was both a blessing and a curse, Alice had long since decided. ‘Maybe,’ she hedged. ‘We have a plan for Coco too – best of both worlds and nobody loses out. It’s like a lifeline really.’
‘We?’ said Tilly casually, focusing in with infallible accuracy on the crux of the issue.
Alice felt her cheeks burn with a sudden intensity. ‘We,’ she replied with a smile. ‘I was actually just working up the courage to call him. Ask him over. Maybe drink some wine—’
‘Wow!’ said Tilly with feeling, clearly a little blindsided that her teasing was in fact bang on the money. She paused, unusually hesitant. ‘So you really are getting your life on track? Kudos, Walker.’ She sighed. ‘You know, that means I’m all out of excuses.’ The wooden door to her cabin swung open and slammed closed again in the storm.
‘What do you mean?’ Alice asked, squinting at the screen to try and gauge her friend’s oddly reticent mood.
‘Haven’t you noticed?’ Tilly asked. ‘We’re the last men standing, you and I. All our friends from med school are consultants or surgeons in training. You were my justification, Al. I’m not sure how much longer I can flit around the globe and call it a career choice – it somehow feels more like stalling now, don’t you think?’
Alice nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. When you didn’t know the right choice to make, sometimes making no choice at all felt like the only option. As she’d realised to her cost.
‘But how have you been advising me all this time—?’ Alice ventured.
Tilly laughed out loud. ‘It’s always easier to tell other people what to do for the best, or hadn’t you noticed?’
‘Oh well, in that case—’ Alice grinned. ‘It has to be my turn, yes?’ She rubbed her hands together in mock glee that, after all their years of friendship, the boot was finally on the other foot.
Tilly shook her head. ‘You have to p
ick your moments, Alice. You can’t drop a truth bomb on me when I’m in the middle of a tropical storm,’ she protested. The signal flickered as though to endorse her message. ‘I’ve got to go. Call Jamie. You know you want to.’ Tilly blew her a kiss and the screen went to black.
Jamie, it seemed, had needed little encouragement to hop in the car on the promise of a home-cooked meal. He’d sounded, Alice decided, almost chuffed to hear from her, jumping on her suggestion that they celebrate Coco’s future and their cunning plan.
He arrived with a bottle of Prosecco, wearing a clean t-shirt proclaiming that the more people he met, the more he liked his dog. It was almost ironic that Jamie was currently without a dog at home, given his unabashed adoration for the species. He kissed Alice lightly on both cheeks, his eyes widening as he took in her newly streamlined sitting room. Obviously he’d never been upstairs where the true revolution had occurred, but even down here it was a noticeable transformation. ‘You’ve been busy,’ he said, ever the master of understatement.
She smiled. ‘Well, with all the fundraising going on around here, a few donations seemed like the very least I could do.’ She paused, wondering why she continued to hide the reality of the situation. ‘Grace helped me through it,’ she said, making it very clear that stacking books and boxes had actually been the least of Grace’s contribution. ‘And you did too, in a way. I could never have even considered it before, while I was still stressing about Coco’s future.’
‘And do you like it?’ Jamie asked, intrigued. ‘Or do you keep looking for things you no longer own?’
Alice shrugged. ‘I’m – I mean, it’s a work in progress, I think.’ Her Freudian slip made them both smile.
Jamie held up the bottle. ‘Have you still got glasses at least? It’s already cold.’ He followed Alice through to the kitchen and deftly twisted the cork free. ‘We have quite a few things to celebrate tonight, then?’
He raised a glass, Alice mirroring his actions. ‘Here’s to your house, to Coco ticking both boxes and,’ he hesitated, ‘to my possible promotion.’
They clinked glasses and drank. ‘Wow,’ said Alice. ‘A promotion? Have they finally worked out that you’re too skilled to be wasted on mere mortals like me?’
Jamie looked uncomfortable for a moment. ‘Something like that. I think, more realistically, Judith is getting her own back for me meddling in Coco’s business.’
‘By rewarding you with a lovely juicy promotion?’ Alice clarified, unable to follow his logic.
‘Well therein lies the rub,’ said Jamie, watching her reaction carefully. ‘It’s in Ireland. The new job. So whilst it’s a wonderful offer, I’m still not sure I should take it,’ he said quietly. ‘After all, I have a wonderful life here in the Cotswolds. But this would be a huge promotion. Head of Region over there is basically the same as National Co-ordinator. But then I think about everything I’d be leaving behind . . .’
Alice blinked hard, a wave of nausea hitting the back of her throat with the Prosecco bubbles. Words just wouldn’t come; she simply stared at him as her mind swooped and slipped. All the things she’d wanted to say to Jamie this evening now suddenly irrelevant.
‘So that’s it? You’re leaving?’ she whispered eventually in disbelief.
‘I only said I’d been offered a job in Ireland,’ said Jamie uncomfortably. ‘The key word being offered. I truly haven’t decided what to do yet.’
‘Well you wouldn’t have mentioned it, if it wasn’t at least an option,’ Alice said, shocked by the petulant tone that had crept into her voice. But at least it proved her right, if that was any consolation.
Men left.
It had ever been thus.
She knew the stats only too well, had witnessed them throughout her extended family. When the going got tough, particularly with incurable illnesses, the men got going. And who could blame them really?
She stared across her kitchen at Jamie, an incredible pressure in her chest. The distance between them had never seemed greater. All his work to help her find a solution? She’d read so much into his actions . . .
She could only be grateful that she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself over him. Feeling was one thing; doing was another proposition entirely. Imagine how much worse this would feel then?
At least this way, it was only Coco she need concern herself with.
‘I don’t know how you can,’ she said, with tight control. ‘All this talk of supporting Coco. All those promises of working with me to find a middle ground. It was all bullshit then? You’re not going to help at all; you’re going to leave.’
Jamie had the decency to blush, stammering out his response in the face of her obvious pain and distrust. ‘I only told you so you wouldn’t hear it from Judith at the centre. And I haven’t said yes – could we maybe focus on that part too?’ He stepped forward to take Alice’s hand as he had a million times before, the hurt and surprise evident on his face as she flinched.
‘Look, Alice, let’s sit down and talk about this,’ he suggested.
She walked through to the sitting room and sank into an armchair and Coco automatically curled in beside her, fitting her silken body into whatever space was available, allowing her to be as close as possible. ‘It doesn’t sound like there’s much to talk about.’
Jamie folded himself onto the end of her tiny, knackered sofa and leaned forward. ‘We’re not a couple, Al,’ he said gently. ‘We work together with Coco and you’ve made it perfectly clear that’s where your interest ends. But it’s hard, you know. Feeling the way I do and knowing it doesn’t make any difference . . .’
Alice frowned, her anger deflating by the moment as bewilderment filled the space it vacated. ‘What do you mean?’
His eyebrows shot into his hairline. ‘You have to be kidding me?’
She shook her head, eyes wide with confusion and mistrust.
He moved over to kneel down beside her armchair, their faces level and inches apart. ‘Are you honestly telling me you don’t know?’ he asked.
Alice simply nodded.
‘You don’t know that I spend every minute of every day thinking about doing this—?’ He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips, pulling away for only a second to gauge her reaction. His fingers laced through the waves of her hair as he held her close and kissed her again.
Alice felt as though the world were shifting around her – all the confusion, the hesitation, was lost in that one perfect moment. It was a kiss like no other and she had never felt this way about anyone before, as though it was hard to say where she ended and he began; their connection in their embrace was absolute.
He was the first to pull away but he stayed, resting his forehead against Alice’s as their breathing slowly returned to normal. ‘Please,’ he murmured, ‘tell me you’ve been dreaming about that too.’
Alice held his gaze, noticing the tiny flecks of yellow in his navy blue eyes, and her own tousled reflection in his dilated pupils. She slid one hand up under his t-shirt, his breath instantly coming faster under her touch. ‘Amongst other things,’ she said playfully, as she pulled him towards her and kissed him once more, and with feeling.
As they lay tumbled together on the sofa afterwards, Alice realised that she felt none of the customary awkwardness or inhibition. She wasn’t counting down the minutes until she, or he, could leave, or pulling on her clothes in a rush of remorse or reserve. She could happily spend the rest of the evening entwined with his semi-naked body, she realised, and still want more.
He poured the last of the Prosecco into her glass. ‘I think you’ll find there are some notable advantages to dating someone in your home town,’ he teased her, dropping his head to kiss her fleetingly on the lips.
‘Really?’ she smiled. ‘You might have to sell me on that one.’
‘Give a man a moment,’ said Jamie with a grin, as he tugged her cashmere blanket over himself. ‘I mean, if I’d known tonight was a booty call, I would’ve carb-ed up.’
‘It was not a booty call,’ Alice protested, laughing as he tickled her under the blanket. Coco had very wisely made herself scarce ages ago and even Alice’s shrieks and giggles didn’t bring her running as they normally would.
‘Potato, pot-ah-to,’ said Jamie, stroking her inner thigh in a most distracting way. ‘You just called me over to seduce me, you can tell me—’
Alice shook her head. ‘I wanted to thank you, you daft eejit. For helping me see that my choices were my choices, if that makes sense?’
Jamie raised one eyebrow. ‘Are you telling me that Grace received similar appreciation?’
Alice threw a cushion at him. ‘Don’t be a pain. You know what I mean. Besides, you were the one on your knees proclaiming your affections, if you recall, Mr Yardley?’
His hand was moving ever higher up her thigh and Alice was finding it increasingly hard to keep a handle on their teasing conversation. ‘I still can’t believe you didn’t know how I felt,’ Jamie said incredulously. ‘I mean, do you think I spend this much time with all my clients?’
Alice shook her head. ‘Maybe?’ She paused, as the spectre of Jamie’s potential promotion intruded into her thoughts. ‘Will you take the job?’ she asked tentatively.
‘Persuade me to stay, Alice,’ Jamie whispered, pulling her into his arms, his words warm on her skin. ‘You only have to say the word and I’m not going anywhere.’
For a moment, Alice felt a flicker of panic. She hated being put on the spot; the very idea that he would be staying only for her.
But she hated the idea of him leaving even more. The answer came to her quickly - simple and heartfelt.
Her new life was all about authenticity, she realised; allowing herself to be vulnerable and to ask for what she wanted, to aim for her heart’s desire.
Back to basics.
Her dog, Jamie and the elusive capsule wardrobe.