‘Being glib doesn’t suit you.’
‘Being stupid doesn’t suit you.’
‘I’m not being stupid.’
‘Well, pretty much everyone in the village begs to differ. Reverend Potter even blasphemed when he heard you weren’t back together.’
‘He dropped the f-bomb?’ I gasped.
‘Well no, he’s the ageing vicar of Dilbury, not some hip young priest from a city. He said “That damn girl needs a divine intervention to make her see sense.”’
‘Gosh, I’m amazed I didn’t feel the aftershocks rippling through the village from such a dirty word as “damn” being used in Dulbury.’
‘Hehe, Dulbury. I hate Rowena for what she did to you, but that was a witty comeback.’
‘Except it was a lie. No one could ever accuse Dilbury of being dull.’
‘So, explain to me again why you’re waiting for Weston to make the next move, after you specifically told him not to make any moves and to give you space.’
‘Because he should recall that I set him a mission last time. He had to show his persistence and prove he was genuinely interested in me by chasing me when I didn’t call him back.’
‘If I’d done that and waited for Miller to come and claim me, I wouldn’t be the size of a whale right now. You were one of the people who convinced me I was being stupid and made me chase him. Remember?’
‘Of course I remember, but Miller had his reasons for needing you to chase him, Abbie. He was rejected his whole life by the people who were supposed to love him. He needed proof beyond a shadow of a doubt that you loved and needed him as much as he loved and needed you.’
‘So, it’s the same for Weston.’
‘No, it’s not. Weston doesn’t have the same baggage as Miller had. He doesn’t need me to chase him. His whole adult life has been about him being in control of situations. It’s a matter of pride to him that I see and respect him as a man. While it may have helped him to share his secret with me, which is not for me to share with you,’ I warned her as she opened her mouth to ask me what it was for the umpteenth time, ‘I could see in his eyes that he hated me seeing him at his weakest. How will it help his pride if I run after him? He needs to believe in himself again, believe that he deserves my love and respect, and that will only happen if he chases me, not the other way around.’
‘Huh. Maybe you don’t need that brain transplant after all, as it kind of makes sense when you put it like that.’
‘You don’t date an expert in body language without picking up some tips,’ I beamed. ‘Besides, I told him that after the way I was rejected by Greg, I was the kind of girl who needed a man to prove to me how much he loved me. And Weston has an almost photographic memory for important data. When he recalls that conversation, he’ll come for me, I’m sure of it.’
‘And what if he’s eighty by then? You’ll have wasted fifty years of your life, miserable and alone.’
‘God, don’t be so mean,’ I chastised. ‘I’d like sex again while I’m still mobile enough to do it.’
‘Daphne and Jack are that age and I reckon they’re at it like battery-powered rabbits.’
‘Who’s at it like rabbits?’ Miller asked as he came back after dropping off his boxes to take Abbie’s from her.
‘Daphne and Jack,’ Abbie and I chorused.
‘Well, good for them. I hope we’ll still be as attracted to each other to want sex at their age.’ He dipped his head and gave Abbie a kiss. ‘Now hurry up, you’ve already been on your feet too long. I’ve set up the wicker chair for you with comfy cushions, and there’s a footstool underneath for you to put your feet up, I don’t want your ankles swelling. Any more,’ he hastily added as she gave him a look.
‘If I don’t deflate, you’ll never be having sex again,’ she warned him. ‘In fact, if squirting this kid of yours out hurts as badly as it seems to in those birthing videos you insisted I watch, I’ll liquidise a load of sugar-free bears and mix them in with every meal you eat to give you a taste of what childbirth really feels like, then make you suffer a slow and agonising death.’
‘I’d tread carefully if I were you, Miller, very carefully,’ I warned with a giggle as his face paled and he hurried off to put the boxes in the back of the tent. ‘Abbie?’
‘Hmmm,’ she replied, linking arms with me after we waved at Reverend Potter, who was setting up the tannoy system.
‘Will you promise me something?’
‘Sure, as long as it doesn’t involve following a healthy eating plan for the first few months of this baby’s life. I need sugar, caffeine, alcohol, and carbs in humungous quantities after abstaining for so long.’
‘That tub of cookies we took to Wales begs to differ,’ I reminded her, making her pull a face of remorse. ‘I don’t want you to meddle by ringing Weston and encouraging him to come for me. If he does come, I need to know that he did so because he had no choice but to follow his heart. Ok?’
‘Damn it, it’s like you have a crystal ball or something,’ she moaned.
‘Tell me you didn’t ring him already?’ I demanded as we approached her table.
‘No, I haven’t, but I was thinking about it. Don’t fret,’ she smiled, patting my hand. ‘I get how important this is to you. I won’t interfere, I promise. Now where’s this chair? I feel like I’ve done a double marathon.’
‘Here, next to me,’ Daphne smiled as she patted the seat. ‘Georgie, can you check that the table runner is straight for me and that the display looks good from that side?’
‘Of course I can. I thought Charlie and Quinn were in charge of all things artistic though, with their creative and organised brains.’
‘Humph,’ Daphne scoffed. ‘They’re both too busy off flirting to be of any use. Don’t dither, Abbie, Reverend Potter is about to open the fête and I don’t want you toppling over when he shocks us all with the announcement over that damn loudspeaker system.’
‘You just want me sitting down so you can scowl at your nemesis without my huge belly in the way. Don’t worry, I have a plan in place for another round of revenge for her flirting with your David.’
I tweaked the cloth and adjusted some of the displays, making sure all of the rich-coloured pots of jam had their labels facing forward, as Abbie plopped herself down onto her chair.
‘Testing, testing, one, two, one, two,’ boomed Reverend Potter’s voice, followed by a load of high-pitched squeaks of surprise, as we all jolted despite knowing it was coming. We quickly craned our necks to look at the koi pond.
‘I won. Cough up, ladies,’ Miller laughed as he rubbed his hands together.
‘Seriously, no one fell in the pond this year?’ Abbie grumbled.
‘No, and Miller called it. First year we run a bet and no one ends up wet,’ I huffed as I pulled a tenner out of my purse, Daphne doing the same.
‘Abbie?’ Miller said, rubbing his fingers in front of her face. She batted them away with a roll of her eyes.
‘Really, I’m going to have stretch marks for life because of you and you expect me to pay my own husband for a bet?’ He leaned down and whispered something in her ear, and her face lit up. ‘Ok, you’ve convinced me. For that, I’ll give you double.’
‘Abbie Davis,’ scolded Daphne.
‘And I’m betting that was an offer for a foot rub at the end of the day. I know my best friend too well,’ I grinned, and Abbie and Miller laughed.
Reverend Potter announced the fête open, and the grounds of Dilbury Manor were soon a buzz of excitement. Lady K, so perturbed by the events of last year’s fête, had requested a stall far away from us, so Abbie toddled off to see her with the “apology” gift and came back with a look of glee on her face at the possibility of what may happen.
I treated myself to a foot-long hot dog for lunch. With my new exercise regime of running every morning to keep fit, I’d lost those last few stubborn pounds I’d wanted to shift in forever and I didn’t have to be too precious about what I ate. I headed back to Abbie’s
stall as I attempted to polish off the treat, and laughed when her dog Teddy strained at the lead Quinn had a firm hold on, his nose sniffing the air as his tail wagged.
‘Here you go, boy.’ I offered him the last bit of sausage, which he wolfed down without giving it a chance to touch the sides.
‘What the … ahhhh, help!’ Abbie shrieked, making everyone turn to see what was happening. I watched with my mouth ajar as the table appeared to magically rise up. One moment it was level with her waist, the next her chest, then her chin, until all that was left visible were her green eyes and the top of her head. But it hadn’t had any effect on Daphne, who couldn’t stop giggling, while Miller roared with laughter behind. Quinn and I joined in when we realised that with Abbie’s pregnancy weight, the metal legs of her chair had sunk into the lawn, and she was left sitting on the seat of the chair that now rested on the ground. ‘I hate being fat,’ she moaned.
‘You’re not fat,’ we all chorused, knowing how self-conscious she was of her size at the moment.
‘You’re always beautiful to me, Abbie,’ Miller added, when his laughter was under control. ‘Come on, let’s get you up,’ he suggested, as she sat on the ground with her old trout pout firmly fixed on her face.
‘Hurry up, the shock has stimulated my bladder,’ she groaned, as Miller tried to lift her up, but failed.
‘It’s not easy when you’re so …’ He tailed off and put his hands on his hips with a huff.
‘Fat,’ Abbie wailed. ‘I’m so fat you can’t pick me up anymore.’
‘You’re not fat,’ everyone called again.
‘Maybe two strong guys would be better than one,’ came a gravelly voice that started the long-forgotten spin cycle of my stomach and the cantering of my heartbeat.
‘Weston?’ I whispered, hardly daring to turn around in case it wasn’t him. I wouldn’t be able to stand the disappointment. Daphne had pulled out a tissue and was dabbing the corner of her eyes, Miller was sporting a wide grin, and while I couldn’t see most of my best friend’s face, the sparkle in her eyes and the double thumbs up she was throwing in the air assured me that I wasn’t imagining things. I turned around slowly, my heart losing all sense of rhythm, to see him standing to the side of the queue in his black cut-off jeans and a smart pale blue shirt. He was clean shaven this time, the dark circles under his eyes had nearly gone, and instead of radiating defeat and anguish, this time they radiated happiness as we stared at each other. Bertie barked excitedly and pulled at his lead, but I wasn’t sure if it was me he was happy to see or Abbie’s dog Teddy.
‘For goodness sake, someone say something. The suspense is killing me,’ Daphne called.
‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he grinned.
‘Hey, handsome,’ I smiled back.
‘So, we need to talk, but first there’s a damsel in distress that I need to help save. Can you hold Bertie for me?’
‘Sod me, I’m fine, I can still see customers. Go talk,’ Abbie shouted.
‘I’m not leaving you on the floor, Abbie,’ Miller warned. ‘It will take seconds for Weston to help me lift you up.’
‘Do you mind?’ Weston asked, holding out Bertie’s lead. I gave him a shy smile and shook my head, both of us inhaling sharply as our fingers brushed when I took it from him. I knew I’d missed him, missed them both, but I didn’t realise quite how much until I saw them standing there.
‘Alright, baby boy, I see you,’ I laughed as Bertie put his paws up on my knees and whined for some attention. I scooped him up into my arms, giggling as he lashed at my neck with his tongue. I watched as Miller and Weston stood on either side of Abbie and coaxed her to put her arms around their necks while they slid their hands under her bottom and effortlessly hoisted her up into the air, with a cheer from us all as Abbie screamed. The second they set her back down on her feet, she was off through the gap in the back of the tent, waddling like a penguin on speed towards the toilets, which made us all laugh. The men wrestled her chair out of the ground and went in search of a sheet of plywood to put under the legs, Weston giving me a wink as he left.
‘Oh, how romantic. He’s come to claim you like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman,’ Quinn sighed dreamily.
‘He may have come to tell me we’re over, that he’s moved on,’ I said quietly, suddenly realising that was a very real possibility after no contact from me for over a month.
‘He’s come to claim you,’ Quinn and Daphne said at the same time.
‘That was love face,’ Quinn nodded. ‘I see enough of it in my career as a wedding planner to recognise it.’
‘Daphne?’ I asked, needing her years of experience to back up Quinn’s statement.
‘Love face,’ she agreed, handing someone a bag of cookies and putting the change in the tin before dabbing her damp eyes again. ‘And about time.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ I breathed, my eyes trained on him as I saw them coming back, carrying a heavy-looking sheet of metal between them. ‘Great, nothing like overkill. I’d suggest Miller disappears before Abbie comes back to find that under her chair,’ I laughed.
‘Men,’ tutted Quinn. ‘All brains and brawn, but no common sense or awareness of tact.’
‘Ok, ok, I’m not ignoring you,’ I said as Bertie nosed under my chin and whined for attention. I gave him another kiss and a tight squeeze. ‘I missed you too, Bertie, yes I did.’
‘I’m amazed that poor dog doesn’t have a split personality with two families and two different names,’ Daphne said.
‘Me too. I can’t imagine he’s going to be allowed to keep coming over now that the truth is out. And there’s no way I can call him Bouncer. He’ll always be Bertie to me.’
‘Leave him with me. You and Weston need some quality time together without interruption,’ Daphne suggested.
‘Are you sure? He’s stronger than he looks. If you take him for a walk, he’ll end up taking you. I have visions of him streaking across the lawn with you on your front polishing the grass as you cling on to his lead.’
‘Well, if he needs a walk, Quinn can take him and I’ll watch Teddy. I’m too unstable to be bending over to scoop up poop.’
‘I get all the shit jobs, literally,’ Quinn moaned, making us laugh.
‘Maybe you can ask Heath to go for a walk with you, you could each take a dog,’ I suggested as I spotted him standing over on the far side of the lawn, staring at Quinn as he nursed a pint.
‘I guess I could, only because the dogs need a run,’ she said quickly running her fingers through her hair as her cheeks flushed.
Daphne launched into a rendition of Love Is In The Air and a cheer went up from Abbie’s queue, making her beam. I shook my head, wondering what other audible treats she had in store for them, then was distracted at the sight of Weston’s pert butt cheeks as he and Miller bent over to lay the metal sheet down.
‘Thanks, now go woo your woman,’ Miller said as he shook Weston’s hand. ‘It’s about time I had some male company. I’m drowning in women every time we have Sunday lunch. Well, apart from Jack, but he falls asleep the moment we’re done eating.’
‘You’re here to woo me?’ I asked, hardly daring to let my hopes soar, and Weston turned to face me.
‘No,’ he replied firmly, making my heart and the corners of my mouth plummet. ‘Wooing implies that I’m going to try and win you around. Captain Argent doesn’t try. He makes a plan. He commits to it. And he succeeds.’
‘Swoon,’ sighed Quinn behind me. I blinked back some tears and thrust poor Bertie over the table into Daphne’s arms as Weston skirted the table. Before I knew what was happening, he’d scooped me up into his arms, mine automatically wrapping around his neck. ‘Double swoon,’ Quinn squeaked. I grinned at her over Weston’s shoulder as he started walking.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said quietly, casting his blue eyes down to mine.
‘I’ve missed you too,’ I admitted. ‘Why now, why come back now?’
‘Because I refuse to accept that someone as generous,
kind hearted, and loving as you would write me off after making a few stupid mistakes. Because you didn’t tell me that it was over. Because I read between the lines and realised you needed me to prove my love by fighting for you.’
‘But …’ I swallowed back the words, not wanting to ruin the moment.
‘You’re wondering why it took this long?’ he asked, dipping his head to brush his lips across my hair.
‘How do you do that?’ I uttered. ‘You can read my mind.’
‘One of my many talents,’ he smiled. I nodded and lifted my finger to trace his strong jawline. ‘You saw me at my weakest, Georgie. While I’m always going to have the threat of those memories pushing at my boundaries, I don’t want them to define me. I needed time to cope with having let you see that side of me, of what it might mean for my recovery. I couldn’t think about asking you to accept me again when I didn’t accept myself.’
‘And have you?’
‘I’m always going to carry the guilt of the death of those men, but vocalising it to someone I cared about, seeing the lack of blame in your eyes, has helped me to start accepting that it was a tragic accident that could have happened to anyone. I reached out to Gavin’s family. Enough time had passed for them to forgive me and we went to his grave together.’ I watched the muscle in Weston’s jaw tick as he clenched his teeth and breathed in slowly through his nose, then exhaled. ‘And I changed therapists. This one seems to be making a difference, or maybe I’m more receptive after nearly losing you. I haven’t lost you, have I? Tell me I’m not too late?’ he asked, a small element of fear creeping into his voice.
‘You’re not too late, and you haven’t lost me, Weston. But you will if you ever lie to me again, no matter how good your intentions may be. Do I make myself clear? There won’t be any third chances or deviation from my deal breaker this time,’ I said firmly.
‘You’d have been good in uniform with that wilting stare and bossy tone,’ he smiled, before his face quickly turned serious. ‘We’re clear. This is it, Georgie, you and me. The only way for our relationship is up. No going back.’
The Great Escape (Dilbury Village #2) Page 25