“To where?”
“The person keeping you up night after night in that chair as you vape and knock back Cooters. I’m in the room next door. I know how often you sit there, smoking.”
“It’s vaping.”
“It’s pining. You aren’t the only word specialist on the team.”
“Do you like crossword puzzles?”
“That’s a weird evasion.”
It’s not. “Sorry. It just popped into my head. Probably too many Cooters.”
Carol sucked her lips into her mouth.
“It’s okay. Get it out of your system.” Josie waved for her to say whatever lame joke had popped into her head.
“You’ve always had cooters on the brain. I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold that in.”
“Don’t ever stop being you.”
“Don’t ever stop believing in love. You, Josie dear, deserve it.”
Chapter Forty
On an early March evening, Harriet sat on the couch with Camilla as they watched an episode of the crime drama Vera.
“Can you massage my feet?” Camilla asked.
Harriet shuddered some. “Will you keep your socks on?”
“Seriously? We’re cousins.”
“You won’t ever let me forget that part. Socks or no massage.”
Camilla repositioned on the sofa, placing her feet in Harriet’s lap. “Who needs a man when I have you?”
Harriet dug into the bottom of Cam’s right foot. “Clive would probably get some fancy foot lotion and really spoil you.”
“Yeah right. The only thing that man cares about is himself.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He hasn’t tracked me down,” Camilla stated as if that was the only proof she needed.
Harriet stilled her hands. “I know for a fact he’s been trying to contact you.”
“All he texts is hi and asks how I’m doing.” Camilla wiggled her foot for Harriet to get back to work.
Harriet complied. “What do you want him to do?”
“I don’t know. More.”
“If you want him to do more, give the poor man something to go on. Or do you not care that he’s in love with you?”
“He’s what?”
Harriet winced.
“Harry, do you know something I don’t know?”
“I’ve had a few conversations with him.” Harriet continued rubbing Camilla’s foot.
“And you talked about me?”
“He’s mentioned you, yes,” Harriet conceded.
“Did he say he was in love with me?”
“Not specifically.”
“What did he say, specifically?” Camilla’s eyes narrowed.
“He asked why love was painful.”
“Is he still the village’s playboy?”
“I don’t think he ever was.”
“What does that mean?”
“As it turns out, the ginger ads were a hoax. Around Christmas, Theo printed a Ginger George Blotter as a way of getting even with Clive for garnering all female attention in the village, but it eventually came out that the first ad was meant as a joke. The other women placed theirs to toss their hats in the ring for Clive’s attention. None of it really makes much sense to me, but the entire time, Clive was innocent.”
“He didn’t sleep with any of the women?” Camilla’s lips thinned.
“Doesn’t seem so.”
Camilla lurched forward, her feet digging into Harriet’s stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”
“You didn’t want to hear anything about Clive. You made me promise not to say a word about him.” Harriet tossed up a helpless hand.
“That was because I thought he was living the high life while I’m growing this.” She rubbed the swell of her belly.
“If he was such a playboy, why do you think he tried to get in touch? He gave me the impression he’s reached out on many occasions.”
“I thought he liked the game. Or the chase.”
“Would you want more with him if he did with you?” Harriet closed one eye, determining if that made sense or not.
Camilla was dead silent. This wasn’t her typical stalling method, so Harriet had no idea what it could mean.
After several moments, Harriet asked, “Are you okay?”
“Do you think it’s possible?”
“What?”
“That I could find happiness with Clive?”
“I don’t know the answer, but I do know if you don’t give him a chance, you won’t ever find out.”
“But if I give him a chance and it doesn’t work out, how does this little one fit in?” Camilla’s arms protectively cradled the baby bump.
“I hate to break it to you, but Clive is already involved with the little one. He has been since day one.”
“I’m scared, Harry. About all of it.” Tears streamed down her face.
Harriet motioned for Cam to move to allow Harriet to wrap her arms around Cam. “I know. Whatever you choose, I’ll be with you no matter what.”
“How do I tell Clive without him thinking I’m trying to trap him?”
“Is that your concern?” Harriet had never considered this possibility.
“I can’t escape the responsibility. It’s different with men.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“It is, though. No matter how hard we push for equal rights. Men can walk away. I literally can’t.”
“A good man wouldn’t, though.”
“Is Clive a good man?”
“I can’t say definitively.”
“If you had to guess.”
“Oh, Camilla. How can I make a guess about this?”
“Please, Harry. I trust you.”
Harriet pictured the pain in Clive’s eyes. “I think he’s a good guy.” Did that mean he’d make a good father? Harriet had no idea. But did anyone know that about anyone?
“What should I tell him? Or how?” Camilla rested her head on Harriet’s shoulder.
“We could have him come over.”
“Here?” Camilla glanced around. “We can’t have him over here.”
“Why not?”
“I… I don’t know. It just seems wrong.”
“Okay. Did you want to go to the pub?”
“I can’t drink.”
“You can’t drink alcohol. You can have orange juice or something. But, it’s not like you have to order anything. It’s not part of the process. It’s not like you say, I’ll have OJ, and I’m carrying your child.”
Camilla started to laugh uncontrollably, until she started to hyperventilate.
Harriet rocked Cam in her arms. “It’s going to be okay.”
Camilla hung on to Harriet’s arm as they entered The Golden Fleece.
Eugenie and Olivia were behind the bar. Much to Harriet’s surprise, Eugenie cheerfully waved them inside. Did Eugenie have some devastating news to share, and she couldn’t contain herself? Like Josie had gotten married or something along those lines?
“Hello, you two. Harry, I know you’d like a gin and tonic, and Camilla, Stella for you?” Eugenie reached for a pint glass.
“Just an orange juice for me.”
“Are you up the duff?” Eugenie laughed.
Camilla pressed into Harriet for support.
“Camilla!” Clive shouted from the other side of the pub and rushed toward her like a bull charging a matador.
Harriet stepped in his path, providing cover for Camilla. With her hands up she said, “Easy.”
He pulled up, peering around Harriet. “Are you injured or something?”
“No,” Camilla replied in a whisper.
“Sick?” he whispered back. “Is that why you haven’t been in?”
“Kinda,” she said.
Harriet still stood between them, not that either of them seemed to take too much notice of her.
Eugenie watched the back and forth like it was a tennis match, her eyes showing she was catching on much quicker than her
brother.
“Are you feeling better?” Clive asked, concern written in his furrowed brow.
“It’s an ongoing thing,” Camilla explained in a strained voice.
“Is it…?” Clive swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbling up and down.
“What?” Camilla asked.
Harriet wanted to end the misery for both but remained quiet.
He mouthed deadly, or so Harriet thought.
“I can’t read lips,” Camilla said.
Good grief. Harriet shifted a little to the right, giving Clive and Eugenie a look at Cam’s slight baby bump. The baggy shirt did a decent job concealing it, but Camilla’s habit of cradling her belly made it more noticeable.
Eugenie’s eyes popped open, and Harriet wondered if Eugenie would ever be able to close them again.
Clive still didn’t seem to get it.
Camilla smoothed her top over the bump to make it more prominent.
“Stomach bug?” he asked.
Harriet massaged her forehead.
Eugenie whacked him with a towel she had on her shoulder. “She’s pregnant.”
Clive had his eyes on Eugenie as if he needed to know the definition of the word. Slowly, he turned his head to Camilla, who had a frightened expression on her face. In slow motion, Clive pointed to her belly and then aimed his thumb at his own chest.
Camilla nodded.
Clive remained frozen.
Harriet wished she’d never encouraged Cam to tell him.
Eugenie’s expression was blank. Was she having a stroke? Harriet inspected her face to see if one side drooped.
“We’re going to have a baby?” Clive whispered in a barely audible voice.
Camilla nodded again.
The Ginger Giant jumped in the air, tapping his feet. “We’re going to have a baby!”
Camilla burst into laughter.
Clive took her hands in his. “When did this happen?”
“The night we met.”
“Winner right out of the gate,” Clive shouted, slapping one hand onto the bar. “Drinks all around!”
Eugenie started to balk but said, “Why not?”
The pub wasn’t overly crowded.
“Am I your uncle now?” Clive picked Harriet up and spun her in the air.
Harriet laughed over his antics, but it made her think of Josie and her reaction when she had found out. “I don’t think it works that way.”
“Josie. I need to call Josie.” Clive fished out his phone from his pocket. He held the phone to his ear. “Josie… is that you?” He pointed to the phone as if confirming it was indeed his niece. “I’m going to be a daddy… Camilla… Here, Harry can explain everything.”
Before Harriet knew what was happening, she had Clive’s phone to her ear. Not knowing what to say, she said, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Did you hear the news? Wait, he just told you.” Not to mention Harriet had already told Josie. “Sorry, everything is a bit confusing here. Clive thinks he’s my uncle now.”
Josie laughed. “How are the parents-to-be?”
“I think they’re happy in that holy fuck, we’re having a kid way. Or so I imagine.”
“Did you just say holy fuck?”
“Did I?”
“Yes. You did.” There was a pause. “How are you, Harry?”
Harriet straightened. “Good. I’m good. You?”
“Busy.”
“I should let you go.”
“That’s not what I meant. I just meant the job is keeping me on my toes. I haven’t been on a run since my plane landed. Hold on. Let me step outside.” There was a rustling sound. “Okay, I have a few minutes to chat.”
All words fell out of Harriet’s head as she stepped outside of the pub since Clive kept shouting he was going to be a father. She reached for the first thing that came to her mind. “The moon is full.”
“Can you see the North Star?” Josie asked.
Harriet nodded. “Yes, I can. Can you?”
“It’s not dark yet.”
“Right. Sometimes I forget you’re in a different country.” Harriet closed her eyes to stop them from watering.
“I’m in the South. It feels so foreign to me.”
There was silence.
“If I can, I’ll step outside tonight and see if I can find Little Bear.”
“Call me if you need help. I’ll do my best to navigate you from here.”
There was laughter. “It’ll be super late there.”
“It doesn’t matter. I like stargazing with you.”
“I’d like that.” There were some muffled sounds. “Harry, I have to run. It was good hearing your voice.”
“Same here,” Harriet said, only to realize Josie had already ended the call. “Same here,” she said to Little Bear.
Eugenie stepped outside. “This has been a shocking night.”
Harriet smacked her lips. “The first of many for those two, I think.”
“How have you been?”
“Good.” Harriet imagined the stars realigning in the sky to spell out liar in all caps.
“I’ve been listening to your podcast. It’s good.”
“Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.”
“Harry,” Eugenie said with sweetness seeming to ooze out of her eyeballs. “Can I interest you in testing something?”
Harriet took in a mouthful of air but couldn’t stop herself from saying, “In what way?”
“Since you’re Upper Chewford’s new love guru, I want your assistance in planning some events for the pub to help drum up business. Since the blotter, business has been somewhat slow.”
Harriet's eyes clamped onto the Northern Star briefly, before she said, “Are you talking about the dating show Josie mentioned before she left?”
“Yes,” Eugenie said, giving her best angelic expression. “I’m calling it Blind Date. I have the first one planned, but I’d like to include lesbians in the second.”
Harriet took another swallow of fresh air. “Sure. Why not?”
Chapter Forty-One
“Do you ever sleep?” Carol whispered in Josie’s ear as they rifled into the conference room for their 7:00 a.m. briefing.
“About as much as you,” Josie whispered back.
“Don’t try that. You look worse than usual. The black circles under your eyes have circles of their own.”
“Geez, thanks.”
Everyone quieted when the campaign manager swept into the room looking like he was ready to murder someone. “I don’t know whose fault this is, but we have some work ahead of ourselves to save this campaign.” He tossed blurry photos of their candidate in what seemed like an intimate moment with a female, not her husband.
Carol stared at Josie.
Josie mouthed, What?
“Josie, have something to say?” Brad, the manager, barked.
Josie ignored the disgust inside and went into action mode. “The photo looks like nothingburger to me. Women are naturally more cuddling with other women. I bet if we polled women, the majority would agree.”
Brad snapped his fingers. “Start with that. Get polls going. Fucking get a thousand women to lie if you have to. We have less than a week until election day, and until this morning, we were fourteen points ahead. I will not let us lose now. Get this done, people.” He clapped his hands and made rah rah sounds like a high school football coach when rallying his team in the fourth quarter.
Josie and Carol headed back to their windowless office. “Thanks for tossing me under the bus,” Josie said.
“I didn’t, really. It was just unfortunate timing.”
Josie parked her butt on the edge of her desk. “You know the photo looks bad.”
“Real bad. I cuddle with friends but not like that.” Carol sipped her Starbucks latte. “Quick thinking, though.”
“But it’s a lie.”
“The way I see it, it’s payback.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Thin
k of all the male politicians who’ve cheated on their spouses, only to have their wife stand by. Now, our candidate gets to force her husband to stand by her side. It’s almost beautiful revenge.”
“Just once I would like to work for someone who didn’t end up breaking my heart.”
Carol studied Josie’s face. “That’s your problem. You think work will be able to fill you with joy. Work is work. You need someone to go home to at the end of the day.”
“You don’t go home to Mike every night.”
“We talk on the phone and say good night. Who do you have?”
“Little Bear.”
“Little who?”
Josie waved a hand. “Nothing. I’m just tired. We should get to work.”
Around seven that night, her mum rang, but Josie wasn’t able to answer the phone. Her mum messaged: Watch this video. The attachment just included today’s date, no other clues.
Josie scrunched her face, but tucked her phone into her pocket when Melissa Mitchell came into the prep area wanting to clarify a line in the speech that was scheduled to start in five minutes. Carol walked her through it, while Josie’s mind wandered.
Carol snapped her fingers in front of Josie’s face. “Josie? You with us?”
No. “Yes, sorry.” Josie scanned the line Carol had highlighted on her tablet. “How do you want to change it?”
Both of them talked at once, each raising their voice to overpower the other. The crowd was growing restless. Josie picked up enough snippets and said, “Hold on.” She retooled the sentence and then showed the two of them.
“Perfect. You’re fucking good at this shit.” Melissa allowed her assistant to straighten her shirt and blazer. Another person did a last-minute makeup touchup. Done, she walked onto the stage, waving her hand, then placing both hands over her heart and moving her hands away, conveying to the crowd she loved them. Yeah, right.
Bile rose in Josie’s throat. “Excuse me.”
“You okay?” Carol asked.
“Dinner didn’t agree with me.”
“Go back to your room. I’ll handle the spin after everything.”
Josie placed a hand on Carol’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“You got it, kiddo. I’ll get even tomorrow.”
A Shot at Love Page 27