The Great Escape (Dilbury Village #2)

by Charlotte Fallowfield

  ‘No going back,’ I whispered, blinking back tears of happiness. There was a strange feeling in my stomach, and it took me a moment to realise that it was certainty. It had been so long since I’d felt it that I nearly didn’t recognise it. I’d felt it the day I’d decided to open my dog grooming business, and again when Abbie had told me that we were going to become the best of friends. That feeling hadn’t let me down then, and I knew that it, or rather Weston, wasn’t going to let me down this time. ‘Ermmm, where the hell are you taking me?’ I asked, as I suddenly became aware of our surroundings.

  I’d assumed he was taking me home, but he’d headed out of the gated entrance to Dilbury Manor and crossed the main road. He angled me through the side gate of the deer park, where I could hear the occasional blast of air puncturing the peace and quiet.

  ‘I arranged something special for us,’ he said as he set me down. I took one look at the huge inflated hot air balloon, held down by ropes attached to stakes in the ground and sandbags hanging over the edges of the wicker passenger basket that sat below it, and shook my head aggressively.

  ‘Hell no, with a side serving or two of no way. The day I take a ride in a picnic basket in the sky is the day Abbie and Lady K become best friends.’ I quickly tried to make a run for it, but he caught me by the waist, spun me around, and hoisted me over his shoulder, spanking my bottom as he laughed.

  ‘It’s not a picnic basket. I vetted the company very carefully. They have a one hundred percent safety record, no one has fallen overboard or been injured.’

  ‘Well, every company has a one hundred percent safety record, right up to the moment that they don’t. I’m not going to be the proud posthumous owner of their first casualty statistic,’ I shrieked as he carried me back to where the balloon was waiting for us to take off.

  ‘Trust me, Georgie. You helped me face my fears, let me help you do the same,’ he urged as he swung me down, depositing me into the death trap on strings.

  ‘Weston,’ I whimpered as my fingers curled tightly around the edge of the basket and my stomach twisted in knots.

  ‘Trust me,’ he repeated, as he vaulted over the side to join me and gave one of the guys sitting in the centre adjusting the flames a salute. That guy gave his colleagues on the ground the go ahead to release the ropes.

  ‘I trust you, it’s this contraption I don’t trust. I’m not in control and that scares me. Oh God, oh God, I’m going to die,’ I cringed as I covered my eyes with my hands and listened to Weston coaxing me to breathe correctly.

  ‘You have as much control behind the wheel of a car, or sitting on a bus, train, or plane, Georgie, and you do that all the time.’

  ‘I hate flying.’

  ‘Shit, sorry. I thought it was the shock of going up now that had just scared you. You never said.’

  ‘It never came up.’ I reminded him, as he wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my temple.

  ‘I met you in Mexico. Did you swim over?’ he chuckled.

  ‘No, but I hated nearly every moment of the damn flight and had to drink a load of alcohol to get me through it.’

  ‘I have a kind of champagne if that helps?’

  ‘Getting off this floating death trap would help,’ I advised him as I trembled in his arms.

  ‘Too late, gorgeous, we’ve already taken off. Open your eyes, everyone at the fête is waving to us. I can see Abbie, Miller, Quinn, Charlie, Teddy, and Bertie.’

  ‘I’m reconsidering the whole “never leaving you” promise,’ I warned him as I peeked through my fingers and gasped to see how far up we already were.

  ‘Too late, a promise is a promise. It’s easier to adjust if you don’t look down straightaway. Look out to the horizon, listen to the peace and quiet, and feel the breeze on your face.’

  ‘It is quiet up here,’ I agreed, breathing in the scent of the fir trees as we rose above them. I let him gently pull my fingers away from my face and capture them in his as he pressed up behind me.

  ‘See, it’s not so bad, is it?’

  ‘I guess,’ I shrugged, biting my lower lip. ‘Did you say something about champagne? I could do with a few glasses, and by that read “I could do with the whole bottle.”’ Weston laughed and let go of me as I heard him talking to someone behind me. I hung onto the edge of the basket for dear life, risking a quick glance over the edge, and gave a brave wave to where our friends were gathered near the koi pond, watching us as we rose. I looked over my shoulder and noticed that we were all alone in the basket, other than the two crew. That was odd, it had been so popular last year with a huge queue. ‘Why are we alone?’ I asked Weston as he handed me a plastic glass filled with a golden bubbly liquid.

  ‘Because I paid for a private flight, it’s a special occasion,’ he smiled, snaking one arm around my waist as he tipped my glass in a toast. ‘To us.’

  ‘To us.’ I lifted the glass to my lips and quickly drained the contents. ‘Hmmm, nice.’

  ‘Feeling better?’

  ‘A bit. How are you not scared?’ I asked, looking at his happy face.

  ‘I used to jump out of planes, Georgie. After the first couple of times, when you’re a combination of scared to death and excited, it’s no big deal.’

  ‘You’re so brave,’ I murmured, my voice full of admiration as I kissed him properly, a deep, sensual, and lingering kiss that left him with a slightly dazed look and stars in his eyes.

  ‘Look at the view. You can see Ivy Cottage and your parlour, Severn Manor over there, and Shrewsbury in the distance,’ he pointed.

  ‘God, it looks so pretty,’ I exclaimed, feeding from his bravery as I leaned over the edge of the basket and drank in the patchwork of fields and trees, as well as the river and hills and houses of Dilbury below us.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ he agreed. ‘I hope I’m going to be really happy living here with you.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ I agreed. ‘Wait, what?’ I shot up and spun around to look at him, wide-eyed.

  ‘You think I want to carry on getting up at stupid o’clock to come and spend one night a week with you?’

  ‘But … but your life is down there.’

  ‘My life is wherever you are, Georgie, if you’ll have me.’

  ‘You’re talking about moving in?’ I asked, searching his eyes as I waited for his answer.

  ‘I’d like to. I can put my flat on the market and put whatever proceeds I get towards your mortgage and start building up a client base here. Even if I have to work in a gym for a while as I re-establish myself, I’ll do it. Anything to get to spend every night with my girl in my arms.’

  ‘I have no mortgage,’ I replied, licking my dry lower lip. Were we really doing this, a full-time, live with each other, wake up together every morning and fall asleep together every night, relationship?

  ‘Then I can use that money towards our wedding and honeymoon instead.’

  ‘Our what?’ I squeaked, then gasped as he dropped to one knee in the basket and pulled a black Havershams’ jewellery box out of his pocket.

  ‘You said you didn’t want to rush things. You said you didn’t want to be pressured. You also said you didn’t want someone moving in after five minutes or proposing. I’ve always been regimented and lived by rules, Georgie, but since I met you, I don’t want to. I want to be spontaneous. I want to follow my heart. I want to start living again, and the only time I feel truly alive is when I’m with you. So screw the rules. Follow your heart and marry me, Georgie Basset.’

  ‘Weston.’ I exhaled his name on a breathy sigh, choking up as happiness flooded my system, endorphins, and quite possibly altitude sickness, making me feel giddy. I sobbed, my hands flying to my mouth as he snapped open the velvet box to show me a beautiful, classic princess cut diamond ring.

  ‘I’d better warn you now that if you say yes, you’re not just taking me. My brother said he’s never seen Bertie as happy as he was when he saw you that day in Shrewsbury, and Bertie pined for days when you left him. If you say yes, he�
��s part of the package, he’ll be ours.’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t totally sure of my answer before, but now it’s definitely a yes,’ I laughed as I fell to my knees and flung my arms around Weston’s neck. ‘Yes, yes, yes, I’ll marry you, Weston. Of course I’ll marry you.’

  ‘Seriously, is it me you’re marrying or Bertie?’ he laughed, hugging me tightly.

  ‘He was the deciding factor,’ I giggled, as it reminded me of our conversation when Weston asked me out. ‘They’re really giving him up? He’ll be ours?’

  ‘He already is, and you know I’m not averse to using him to get my way.’

  ‘No, you’re not, are you?’ I laughed, pulling my head back to kiss him repeatedly, never having felt happier.

  ‘Ok, let’s make it official,’ he murmured against my lips, giving me a final kiss before sliding the ring onto my finger, the summer sun making the diamond sparkle and the platinum gleam.

  ‘Weston, it’s so beautiful,’ I said quietly, my voice full of wonder as I admired it. He helped me up and shook hands with the two crew as they congratulated us and poured us some more bubbly, then offered some gourmet chocolate truffles to go with it. After two more glasses of fizz, I was surprised I wasn’t feeling more drunk. I had to laugh when he held up the plastic bottle to see it was alcohol-free champagne, as this balloon company didn’t allow alcohol on board, but he promised me some of the good stuff as soon as we landed. ‘When? When did you arrange this?’

  ‘Two weeks ago. I went to see Daphne and told her what I wanted to do and she told me to go for it, that you’d definitely say yes.’

  ‘Daphne was in on it?’ I gasped. Wow, Jack really had taught her the art of the poker face.

  ‘Everyone knows, I had to involve them to organise the celebration meal at The Fox later.’

  ‘Even Abbie?’

  ‘Especially Abbie. I told her to keep badgering you to contact me, knowing you’d dig your heels in and do the exact opposite.’

  ‘The sneaky little … urgh, I’m going to throttle Abbie. She’s let me stew all this time knowing how you really felt, when I was starting to worry that maybe I’d driven you away.’

  ‘You’re stuck with me now, gorgeous,’ he grinned, stealing another kiss. ‘We’d better let them all know.’

  ‘You have a mobile signal up here?’ I asked, amazed. We had to be over half a mile up above Dilbury, and now that my nerves had worn off, I was loving it.

  ‘No idea,’ he replied, nodding to the crew. I watched as they rolled some stiff material over the edge of the basket and looked over the side to see “She said yes” written in big blue letters.

  ‘Was there a “She said no” one just in case?’ I laughed, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my cheek above his strong, steadily beating heart.

  ‘No, I had faith that you’d say yes. We’re destined, Georgie Basset.’

  ‘I really think we are,’ I agreed as we both sighed contentedly and drank in the view in blissful silence.

  As soon as we landed, we were swarmed by our friends, and I was shocked to see my mum and dad waiting to congratulate us too. It seemed that Weston had been to see them, and whatever it was that he’d said to them had convinced them that he was going to take the best care of me. Mum admitted she’d never seen me as happy, strong, and confident as I’d been since I met him, and said any man who built a woman up instead of tearing her down was worth his weight in gold, no matter what his profession was.

  Lady K gave us the stink eye as she headed over to the hot air balloon, followed closely by a dashing-looking Max, Lord of the Manor, and a blushing Isla, which made Abbie and me grin at each other. Finally, he was making the moves on her. It had taken forever.

  We celebrated back at the fête, especially with Abbie taking her three first-place rosettes for the ninth year in a row, and news of a hilarious spin-off to hashtag turdgate reaching our ears.

  The villagers rallied around and insisted on doing the clean-up so that Andy, the local cabbie, could take everyone down to The Fox in a coach, including Teddy and Bertie, who were overjoyed to be reunited after a month apart.

  Weston had hired out the private room, decked out wedding style with floaty white voile, fairy lights, candles, and flowers, for a sit-down, three-course dinner with real champagne.

  It was the perfect end to a perfect day. And better still, I got to wake up with my man and new baby boy, with no clock watching.

  That wasn’t just perfect. It was everything.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Moving On Up

  A Year Later – July

  I SAT ON MY dressing table stool as Rita, the mobile hairdresser, applied the finishing touches to my glamorous updo. Weeks of deep conditioning treatments, not to mention the healthiest year of my life with Weston’s cooking, had made my hair strong and lustrous. It was a rich copper, with hints of gold where the sunlight streaming through the windows bounced off it. Some waterproof navy mascara and eyeliner made my bright blue eyes pop, while a touch of sheer gloss and delicate pink blusher set off my casual makeup perfectly. I looked like me, like the girl Weston fell in love with, and that was just how I wanted to look on my wedding day.

  ‘The transport’s here,’ Abbie yelled up the stairs.

  ‘Transport? I was going to walk up the lane to the church,’ I called back.

  ‘Don’t shoot the messenger.’

  I shook my head. Weston’s military training had been put into effect full force, with him insisting on doing all of the wedding planning and organisation, under the guidance of wedding planner Quinn and the rest of my friends, who had been sworn to secrecy. He’d also insisted on paying for it, as he lived with me for free and had no need for the lump sum he’d got from the sale of his flat. I was sure that had earned him extra brownie points with Dad, who’d agreed on the condition that Weston allowed my parents to pay for my dress.

  Things with them had really improved in the last year. They were far more accepting and open-minded after seeing how well Weston looked after me. Their faces had fallen, though, when I’d found the dress of my dreams for, in their words, a paltry three thousand pounds, twelve thousand below their budget for me. I giggled as I fingered it. Abbie had called it a poultry three thousand pound dress as it was adorned with hundreds of feathers.

  ‘How’s that, Georgie?’ Rita asked as she fit the delicate pearl and crystal tiara in place and stepped back.

  ‘Perfect,’ I smiled, slowly standing up and making my way over to the full-length mirror in the corner of my bedroom. ‘Totally perfect,’ I breathed, as I did a slow circle to take it all in.

  My white dress was strapless, with a satin sweetheart bodice fitted to the waist and adorned with a delicate scattering of crystals, then layer upon layer of feathers spilling down onto the floor and out into a small train at the back. Even better, the lower part of the dress could be removed for the evening, leaving a knee-length feathered skirt that would allow me to dance.

  ‘You look amazing, honey,’ Rita purred as she packed up her things.

  ‘Thank you. I hope he thinks so.’

  ‘He’d be crazy not to. Right, I’ll go and do a quick once over of the bridesmaids’ hair before I go. Have a wonderful wedding day.’

  ‘Thanks, Rita.’ I kissed her cheek and took a deep breath as she scurried downstairs to make sure that the girls hadn’t ruined her creations.

  ‘Gorgeous Georgie, getting married at last.’ I jumped, startled, when Abbie appeared in the doorway in her scarlet knee-length bridesmaid dress.

  ‘About time, isn’t it? You look lovely, Abbie.’

  ‘Well, it helps to get a baby body back in shape when you have a personal trainer living on your doorstep. God damn it, I’m going to cry again. Wasn’t it enough you made me cry when I came wedding dress shopping and you walked out wearing that?’ she moaned, fluttering her hands in front of her eyes.

  ‘Don’t,’ I warned, doing the same. ‘I can’t cry yet, I just can’t.’

&n
bsp; ‘You won’t believe who’s standing on your doorstep, asking to see you.’

  ‘Weston’s here?’ I asked, the thudding of my heart beating even louder at the thought of seeing him again after two nights apart.

  ‘Not Weston, bloody Greg!’

  ‘Greg?’ I hadn’t seen him since Weston had threatened his manhood in The Cock over a year ago.

  ‘Do you want me to handle him?’ she asked, rubbing her hands together in glee at the thought of it.

  ‘No,’ I replied, making her face fall. ‘I’m not the pushover I used to be, I can do it.’

  ‘You ruin all of my fun. Come on then, and make it fast. Your dad is wearing a hole in the hall floorboards as he paces, and Daphne will be needing another toilet break soon if we don’t get going.’

  ‘Georgie, I …’ Dad shook his head as I came down the stairs, tears in his eyes. ‘Where’s my little girl gone?’

  ‘She hasn’t been around for a while, Dad. Please don’t make me cry.’

  ‘You just … you look incredible. I’m so happy for you.’ He hugged me tightly as he sniffled, and I blinked back the tears, determined not to ruin my face.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ I asked as Abbie slipped out of the front door.

  ‘Waiting, we need to get moving.’ He pulled my veil over my head and adjusted it for me before opening the front door. It was a glorious day, hot without being sticky and not a cloud in the sky. We’d chosen an early evening wedding so we could have our sit-down meal soon after the service.

  ‘Georgie, I need to talk to you,’ Greg urged as he stood at the side of the doorstep, nervously running his finger around his collar as Dad locked the front door. ‘Hello, Mr. Basset. Long time no see.’

  The sound of crunching bone made me wince, and Greg scream, as Dad threw an unexpected right hook that connected with Greg’s nose and shattered it, a mist of blood spraying over Greg’s shirt, but luckily missing my dress.

  ‘Oops, sorry Greg, my hand slipped. My bad,’ Dad said as he tugged on his shirt cuffs and strode away down the path, leaving Greg moaning and nursing his face while I tried not to laugh.