An Eligible Bachelor

by Veronica Henry

  20

  Guy woke on Thursday morning feeling guilty. Firstly because it was nearly eleven o’clock, and he had vowed to get up early and start work. But he hadn’t got in until the early hours of the morning, and then he hadn’t slept properly.

  Secondly, he felt rather uncomfortable with his actions of the night before. Abandoning Richenda like that was hardly chivalrous. But he’d felt totally compromised. He wouldn’t have trusted himself not to say something awful, especially if he’d had a few more drinks, which he no doubt would have if they’d gone on partying. It was best that he left when he did. Anyway, he consoled himself, she hadn’t exactly been short of company.

  Now he’d distanced himself from her, however, he realized he had to give her a chance. Both of them a chance. They had to get off the merry-go-round that was their life. He had to explain to her exactly how he felt about what had happened, and she in turn needed to defend her actions – he had no doubt that in her eyes it had been defensible. Then perhaps he would be able to understand her better. It was, after all, almost as if he’d fallen in love with someone from a different culture entirely. An alien.

  What the two of them needed was time alone, away from both the pressures of Eversleigh and the public eye, to have a really serious heart to heart and lay down some ground rules. The events of the past couple of days were only the beginning; if Richenda continued on this upward path, life was going to become more and more tricky. He needed to book something romantic for the two of them. Paris was out: by the time they got there it would be time to come back. Lunch at the Honeycote Arms, by contrast, wasn’t really special enough, and it was hardly private. He lay there for a few moments, musing on various possibilities, when inspiration hit him. He picked up the telephone by the bed and dialled a number.

  ‘Eldenbury Wines.’

  ‘Felix – it’s Guy. Tell me, is your brother still running that crazy business of his from your parents’farm?’

  ‘He certainly is. And don’t mock – it’s turning out to be very lucrative. More profitable than dairy cattle, at any rate.’

  ‘Give me his number, will you?’

  Ten minutes later, satisfied that what he had organized was the perfect antidote to their floundering relationship, he called Richenda. She answered on the first ring.

  ‘Hey. How are you?’

  ‘Guy! I was wondering when you’d call. I was getting worried.’

  ‘Sorry. I’d have rung earlier, but I’ve been… seeing some suppliers.’ He couldn’t admit he’d been snoring his head off in bed. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Great. Mum’s here with me having a late breakfast. We’ve got the paper. Have you seen it?’

  Shit. He should have had the foresight to get it from the shop before he phoned. He didn’t want to look too uninterested.

  ‘I’ve just sent Malachi down to the shop. I’m going to read it over a coffee.’

  ‘Cindy’s done a fantastic job. And the pictures are wonderful. I really think we’ve made the best out of a bad situation. In fact, Mick’s almost done us a favour.’

  Guy wasn’t sure he liked the glee in her voice, but he murmured his approval nevertheless.

  ‘We’ve had loads of calls from magazines wanting to do features,’ she burbled on. ‘But I’ve told them that’s it for now.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘I’ve told them they’ll just have to wait for the wedding.’

  She gave a merry little laugh and Guy felt his blood freeze. He tried to inject some warmth into his voice as he responded.

  ‘By the way – I’ve booked us a surprise. For Monday morning. Just you and me.’

  ‘Oooh – what?’

  ‘I can’t tell you, because then it won’t be a surprise. Anyway, I’ve got to get on. Mum’s tearing her hair out.’

  ‘OK. Love you.’

  She squeaked a kiss down the phone. Guy hung up, his heart feeling heavy. He’d persuaded himself to give Richenda the benefit of the doubt, but he hadn’t liked her almost triumphant tone, as if she had milked the situation for all it was worth. And how many lies had he trotted out in just one phone call? At least three. This was not boding well. Never mind. They could iron things out, he was sure.

  He slung on a faded grey sweatshirt and jeans and went down to the kitchen in pursuit of breakfast and his mother, who usually had her first pot of coffee at this time. But Madeleine was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found Honor, carefully whisking up egg whites in a copper bowl.

  ‘Morning!’ he said cheerfully.

  ‘Hi,’ she greeted him back. ‘How was last night?’

  ‘Fine. Actually no, awful. The food was vile and the people were even worse. I felt a bit of a spare part.’

  ‘Oh. But I bet Richenda looked lovely.’

  ‘Yes. She won… Best Actress or something.’

  He knew he was being deliberately dismissive, but that was the mood he was in.

  ‘That’s fantastic. You must be very proud.’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, rather unconvincingly. ‘You haven’t seen the papers, then?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘There’s a big piece in it about her reunion with her mother. They haven’t seen each other for ten years, apparently.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  Guy didn’t say that he hadn’t known either. He’d already been disloyal enough. He told himself to bloody behave and not be so petulant. A slab of chocolate broken into rough pieces was nestling in golden foil rather temptingly next to a bowl, waiting to be melted. He pinched a square and put it in his mouth before she could stop him. Honor rapped him sharply over the knuckles with her wooden spoon.

  ‘Ouch!’ he yelped. ‘That bloody hurt.’

  ‘It was supposed to. There’s not going to be enough now.’

  ‘I’ll go and get you a bar of Bournville from the village shop.’

  ‘This is Green and Black’s seventy per cent cocoa solids!’

  ‘No one will know the difference.’

  ‘I will.’

  Guy shook his head in mock exasperation.

  ‘What’s it like to have such high standards?’

  ‘Exhausting.’

  He looked at her. She did look rather tired, he thought. Pale and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes.

  ‘Actually, you do look shattered,’ he said, immediately concerned. ‘Are we working you too hard?’

  ‘No,’ she replied, and promptly burst into tears.

  Guy was horrified.

  ‘Hey! Don’t cry, for heaven’s sake. The recipe doesn’t call for salt.’

  Honor gave a helpless giggle through her tears, then dissolved again.

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s just… Shit. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m making such a mess of everything.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You’re doing a fabulous job.’

  ‘Not this. I mean… my life.’

  ‘Oh.’

  She desperately tried to wipe her eyes with the corner of her apron.

  ‘You don’t want to hear about it. It’s incredibly boring.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘It’s… Ted’s father.’

  There was a pause while Guy considered this revelation. He realized he’d never given the idea of Ted having a father much thought. Ted and Honor belonged together and that was that. The idea of a third party wasn’t one he warmed to much. Especially when whoever it was had clearly got Honor into a terrible state.

  ‘Is he giving you trouble?’

  ‘No. Not exactly. I just don’t know what to do about him.’

  Guy surveyed her gravely.

  ‘I think we should go to the pub and talk about it.’

  ‘No! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. You don’t want to get involved in my problems.’

  ‘Listen, it’s in my interests to have happy staff. And if that means supplying them with half an hour’s counselling in the local, that’s fine by me. Anyway, I could do with a drink to get over last nig
ht.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Truly.’

  Honor looked down at her egg whites.

  ‘I can’t go without finishing this. This is the crucial moment.’

  ‘OK. Finish your whatever-it-is. Then we’ll go. I prescribe double Bloody Marys and one of the Fleece’s thoroughly inedible cheese and pickle sandwiches.’

  ‘How can I say no?’ said Honor.

  ‘You can’t. Simple as that.’

  It was gone twelve by the time Honor put the finishing touches to her chocolate, prune and Armagnac parfait. She fled to the cloakroom at the end of the passage and dug around in her handbag to see if she could improve her appearance, but she hadn’t brought her make-up bag with her. So she washed her face and ruffled up her hair, then went to find Guy.

  He was in the small sitting room with Madeleine, going through the bookings diary. He jumped up as soon as he saw her.

  ‘Honor. Good. I’m bloody starving.’ He turned to his mother. ‘Um – I’m taking Honor to lunch at the Fleece. I think she could do with a break.’

  ‘Quite right,’ said Madeleine. ‘Though I don’t know if I approve of the venue. Can’t you go somewhere more salubrious?’

  ‘It’ll be fun,’ said Honor. ‘I haven’t been out for so long that anywhere’s a treat.’

  Madeleine surveyed Honor discreedy. She might not have a huge clothing budget, but she knew how to put an outfit together. Today she had on linen drawstring trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A silk scarf tied round her neck and pale blue suede loafers finished off the outfit. Madeleine thoroughly approved: Honor knew instinctively what suited her, but didn’t need to spend a fortune to look good. Which was a very good sign.

  Madeleine knew it was a bad habit of hers, to judge people by what they were wearing, but actually you could gain a lot of insight into character by how people dressed. Richenda, for example, didn’t fool her in the least with her understated perfection. It was all very calculated and preconceived: subtly done for effect, but at huge expense. Madeleine hadn’t missed any of the labels so far; Richenda didn’t go in for chain-store chic. She obviously needed the security of haute couture to maintain her image.

  Madeleine hadn’t said anything to Guy, but she’d already seen the papers that morning. And she’d found the revelations rather distasteful. There had been a certain gloss put on it all that made Madeleine feel there was more to the story than met the eye. Richenda might know how to dress and look the part, but that didn’t guarantee propriety.

  Madeleine was feeling increasingly uncomfortable about the whole relationship. And very protective, though she couldn’t show that. Guy was old enough to make his own decisions, and his own mistakes. She wasn’t going to interfere. She would just hover on the sidelines, watching and waiting…

  ‘Please – do join us if you’d like to,’ Honor was saying, obviously anxious that Madeleine shouldn’t feel excluded. Thereby climbing up another notch in her estimation: the girl had lovely manners.

  ‘That’s sweet of you, but I’ve got a mountain of brochures to send off and some bookings to confirm. I promised myself I’d get them in the post this afternoon. You two go off and enjoy yourselves…’

  The Fleece was a black and white thatched pub at the end of the village. It served dreadful food but delicious beer, which Guy considered to be every pub’s duty. There were rumours that the brewery who owned it were lining it up for a revamp, mirroring the Honeycote Arms, their flagship gastropub. Guy hoped not. The whole point of the Fleece was its abundant shortcomings which kept out the Mercedes CLK brigade.

  Guy ordered two Bloody Marys, two cheese and pickle doorsteps and a bowl of chips to share, while Honor found them a place by the window.

  ‘So,’ he said, plonking a glass of thick tomato juice laced with a hefty kick of vodka and a shot of Worcester sauce on the sticky table in front of her. ‘You can get it off your chest if you want. Or we can just get disgracefully plastered. It’s up to you.’

  ‘I could do with someone to talk to,’ admitted Honor. ‘It’s been driving me mad, not knowing what to do. Basically, I bumped into Ted’s dad at the ball the other night. I hadn’t seen him for seven years.’

  Guy raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Do I gather from that you parted on bad terms?’

  Honor gave a rueful nod.

  ‘The day I found out I was pregnant with Ted, I found Johnny in bed with a nineteen-year-old girl.’

  Guy winced.

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘I didn’t give him a chance to defend himself. Because I couldn’t think of any reason that would justify it. As far as I was concerned, it stripped him of any right to be Ted’s father. I didn’t want anything else to do with him. So I ran away. Here. To Eversleigh. And I hadn’t seen him till the other night.’ She sighed. ‘Of course, he found out about Ted. And he was very angry with me…’

  At that point in the story the sandwiches and chips arrived, allowing Guy to take in what he’d been told while they distributed the plates and administered salt and vinegar. He realized the object of Honor’s angst must be the owner of the green scarf Ted had discovered the other afternoon.

  ‘No wonder you’ve been looking pale,’ he said, squirting a sachet of ketchup carefully on to the side of his plate. ‘And there was me thinking it was the pressure of all those canapés.’

  He hoped he didn’t sound too flippant, but he wasn’t sure yet what he was supposed to say.

  Honor chewed thoughtfully on a chip.

  ‘Yes, but do you think I was wrong? Was I too judgemental? Was what he did not actually that awful? I mean, we weren’t married. But I did think we had some sort of commitment to each other…’

  She looked at Guy.

  ‘Would you do that? If you were in a long-term relationship? Would you sleep with someone else? Even if it was just a meaningless bonk?’ Her questions were rapid fire. ‘Have you ever?’

  Guy thought very carefully before he answered. He knew everyone’s ideas of morality were different, but Honor was looking for guidance and he hoped he might give her some. He looked back on his past. He’d certainly been no angel. He’d had plenty of one-night stands and flings. But on close analysis he didn’t think he’d ever cheated on anyone.

  ‘I don’t think I have, no.’

  ‘Would you cheat on Richenda? If you were tempted and thought you could get away with it?’

  Guy looked horrified.

  ‘Certainly not!’

  ‘So you think I had the right to cut him off?’

  ‘I can’t say that, Honor. I can’t give you my approval. It’s a pretty big deal, fathering a child. I can’t help feeling that maybe he did have the right to at least know.’ He paused. ‘That wasn’t what you wanted to hear, was it?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Honor miserably. ‘Johnny seems to think it was the crime of the century. And now he’s putting me under pressure.’

  ‘What sort?’

  ‘I think he wants us to get back together. But he’s too clever to actually say that’s what he wants. He’s trying to get me to think that’s what I want.’

  ‘And is it?’

  Honor shrugged. ‘I keep thinking how great it would be for Ted to have a mum and a dad. Not to be the odd one out all the time. For him to have a proper family.’

  ‘But what about Johnny? How do you feel about him? There’s no point in forcing yourself back together if you don’t love him.’

  ‘Johnny’s a… loveable rogue with his own moral code. Though he seems to have grown up a bit. He certainly dotes on Ted: I think he’d make a good job of the parental thing. Up to a point. But he’s tricky. He drinks for England. He flirts for Ireland. And he’s totally irresistible when he wants to be.’

  ‘You’re not selling him to me,’ said Guy bluntly.

  ‘I’m just trying to put you in the picture.’

  ‘What’s he really got to offer you and Ted? That he can’t give you if he does the part-time dad
thing? He can see Ted at weekends and holidays, contribute to his upbringing.’

  Honor was silent. Guy ploughed on.

  ‘Don’t be seduced into thinking that having him around is going to make life better for Ted. He doesn’t know any different at the moment, remember. And you’re a fantastic mum. If you ask me, the most important thing for Ted is that you are happy.’

  ‘So you think I’m entitled to ask for more time?’

  ‘Definitely. Whatever decision you make is going to shape the future for all three of you. It’s not something you can decide overnight.’

  Honor looked relieved.

  ‘That’s what I thought. But he makes me feel so guilty. The other day he said I’d deprived him of a third of Ted’s childhood already, so I’ve got to make up for lost time.’

  ‘Have you heard the term emotional blackmail?’ asked Guy. ‘Don’t stand for any of it. You take your time.’

  Honor looked miserably at her sandwich.

  ‘I’m trying to keep my distance,’ she said carefully, looking up at Guy, her huge brown eyes glassy with tears. ‘But I think I made a monumental error last night.’

  She bit hard on her lower lip, her face anguished. His heart sank.

  ‘You didn’t sleep with him?’

  ‘No. Not quite. But I might as well have done.’ She looked utterly shamefaced. ‘That doesn’t exactly leave me room for manoeuvre, does it? I mean, that’s a pretty big signal. I can’t behave like that and tell him he can’t have anything to do with us.’

  Guy decided it was time to speak plainly. It was the oldest trick in the book, getting into a girl’s knickers in order to gain the upper hand.

  ‘I’m quite sure, from what I’ve heard of him, that he put you under pressure. Or at least took advantage of your vulnerable position. He was trying to undermine you, Honor, and that’s not fair. He’s playing dirty’

  ‘So you don’t think I’m a prick-tease?’

  Guy winced. He couldn’t think of anyone less of a prick-tease than Honor.

  ‘No. But I can think of plenty of words for Johnny. I know he probably feels strongly about Ted, but he should have a bit more respect for you as his mother. He should stop toying with your emotions.’