by Jill Mansell
“A photograph?” Evie guessed, because it was the right shape and size.
It was a photograph. Ginny only looked at it for a split second but the image remained imprinted on her mind. She glanced over at Finn and handed it to him without a word. Evie, her eyes widening with glee, exclaimed, “Finn, is it rude? Don’t tell me it’s a photo of you with some scantily clad girl!”
Ginny bit her lip and turned away, because in a manner of speaking it was. In the photograph Finn was sitting on a stone wall wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. It was a sunny, breezy day and the wind had blown a lock of dark hair across his forehead. In his arms he was holding a baby with equally dark hair and eyes. The baby, clad only in a tiny pink and white sundress, was beaming at Finn. And Finn was smiling back at her with a look of such love, joy, and utter devotion on his face that anyone who saw the photograph would get a lump in their throat even if they didn’t know the full story behind it.
“What is it? Show me,” Evie demanded, reaching for the photo in Finn’s hand. Then she saw it and her expression abruptly changed. “Oh.”
An awkward silence ensued before Finn took the photograph back from Evie and put it down on the table. Turning to Ginny, he said, “You must be wondering what this is about. The baby is the daughter of an ex-girlfriend of mine. Well, ex-fiancée.”
Ginny wavered for a split second, then realized she couldn’t tell him she already knew about Tamsin and Mae. Evie wasn’t saying anything either; she had related the story in confidence and the chances were that Finn wouldn’t take kindly to discovering he’d been gossiped about behind his back.
“Right.” She braced herself; this was the kind of lying she found hardest to pull off. Assuming her I-know-nothing expression—a tricky balance between neither too wide-eyed nor too village-idiot—Ginny nodded and said innocently, “So you were… um, engaged.”
Oh brilliant. Mastermind next. Then maybe a degree in astrophysics.
“I was.” Finn paused. “I also thought Mae was my daughter. But it turned out she wasn’t after all.”
“Oh! How awful.” Ginny put her hand to her mouth and shook her head in dismay. Act natural, act natural. “That must have been… so, um…”
He nodded. “It was. Tamsin got back together with Mae’s father. They’re living in London now. He’s a very wealthy man.”
“Is… is he?”
“But then you already knew that.”
Whoosh went Ginny’s face, faster than a Formula One car. Struggling to look as if she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, she raised her eyebrows and said, “H-how would I know that?”
“Let me hazard a guess.” Finn glanced pointedly at Evie. “Someone told you. Because I have to say, you’re the world’s most hopeless liar.”
“Yes, it was me.” Evie came clean.
“Thanks a lot,” said Finn.
“She wasn’t gossiping about you,” Ginny put in hastily. “She was just explaining. After that time I put my foot in it and said something awful about it being obvious you weren’t a father. I felt terrible about that.”
“OK.” Picking up the photo once more, Finn said, “So what do I do with this now? Throw it away, I suppose.”
“You can’t.” Ginny snatched it away before he could crumple it in his fist. “Not to a photograph like that.”
A flicker of something crossed his face. “But it’s based on a lie.”
“You’re still not throwing it away.” To lighten the mood, she said, “For one thing, it makes you look human.”
Finn said drily, “Thank you again.”
“But it’s true. Promise me you won’t,” said Ginny.
He rolled his eyes but put the photograph in his shirt pocket.
“Right, I’m off.” Evie drained her glass and scooped up the road atlas. “Can I take this and bring it back on Monday?”
Ginny said enviously, “Have fun tomorrow.”
“Oh, I will. I can’t wait to see my baby again!” Too late, Evie realized what she’d said. “Finn, me and my big mouth. I meant Philippa. I know she’s grown up but she’s still my baby to me.”
In a flurry of good-byes, Evie left and Ginny finished her drink too before collecting her things together.
When Finn showed her to the door, Ginny said, “I really am sorry about tonight.”
“Not your fault.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “For once.”
“And I’m sorry about what happened with Tamsin and Mae. I can’t imagine how that must have felt. You must have gone through hell.”
For a moment, Finn didn’t reply. Then he nodded, his face turned away in enigmatic profile. “I’d say that pretty much covers it. Mae was the center of my world, the most important thing that had ever happened to me. One minute she was there and I would have died for her, literally. Then the next minute she’s gone, and it turns out I was never even her father in the first place. She’s alive but I don’t suppose I’ll ever see her again. And there’s no reason why I should want to, but she’s still the same child.” He paused again. “Just not my child anymore.”
It was the most unbearably sad story. The lump was back in Ginny’s throat. If Finn had been anyone else she would have thrown her arms around him. Instead, clutching her car keys and handbag, she said awkwardly, “You’ll meet someone else. The right person. And then you’ll have a proper family of your own.”
“I thought I had a proper family last time. And look how well that turned out.” His dark eyes held hers for a second before he turned back to concentrate on the door handle. His tone dismissive, indicating that this conversation was now well and truly over, Finn said, “I’m not sure I’d want to try again.”
***
Rolling over in bed, Carla reached for her mobile and peered at the screen. If it was Ginny, she definitely wasn’t answering it.
“Make it stop,” Perry groaned, burrowing under the pillows.
It was a number she didn’t recognize, possibly a new client. Dredging up her efficient voice, Carla said, “Hello, Carla James.”
“Woo, you make me want to buy a huge conservatory. Hi, Carla, it’s Jem!”
Jem. For God’s sake, it was months since she’d last heard from Jem. Instinctively turning onto her side, away from Perry, Carla said, “Well, this is a surprise. Everything OK, sweetie?”
“Everything’s fine. I’m just bursting with curiosity about this new chap of Mum’s and she’s not giving me nearly enough information. I know he’s nice and she really likes him but that’s all I’m getting. She just keeps saying it’s early days,” Jem complained good-naturedly. “But I can’t help it; I want to hear more than that. And I know you met him on Friday night so I thought, ha, I’ll ring Carla and find out what he’s really like.”
Carla’s heart plummeted. It was Sunday morning and she was here in Perry’s bed. How could she have sunk so low? What would Jem say if she told her the truth? How would Ginny, her best friend, react when she found out that—
“Get off,” Carla hissed over her shoulder, covering the receiver and wriggling out of reach as Perry’s hand trailed down her spine. Hot with shame, she said, “Jem, I only met him for a couple of minutes; I can’t really tell you much. Like your mum says, it’s not been going on long enough to get serious. I think they’re just seeing each other every now and again.”
“Noooo.” Jem let out a wail of disappointment. “Not fair! You know what Mum’s like, it’s years since she’s been keen on anyone,” she protested, “so of course I’m interested. This could be my new stepdad, for heaven’s sake. And now you’re clamming up on me too! At least tell me if he’s good-looking.”
Perry overheard this. He tapped Carla on the shoulder and nodded.
“He’s all right, I suppose.” Carla winced as the taps turned into jabs. “OK, he’s quite good-looking. For a redhead.”
“And does he seem like a nice person?”
“I couldn’t really tell. Nice enough.”
“Hopeless,” Jem scol
ded. “OK, if you met him at a party, would you fancy him?”
This was agonizing.
“I prefer my men younger.” Carla slithered out of reach again as Perry, outraged, seized her arm in a pincer-like grip.
“Well, we all know that. You’re not fooling me, by the way.”
“What?”
“Not for a second,” said Jem.
Carla almost stopped breathing. “Meaning?”
“I’m not completely stupid.”
“Aren’t you?”
“And I’m not five years old either. I know what’s going on.” She couldn’t know. She just couldn’t.
“What’s going on?” Carla was dimly aware that she sounded like a parrot.
“You’re pretending you’re on your own.” Jem’s voice was playful. “But you aren’t. You’ve got someone there with you.”
Oh. “How could you tell?”
“You mean apart from me hearing you cover the receiver and tell him to get off?”
“Bit of a giveaway, I suppose,” Carla admitted.
“And I bet there’s something else I know about him too.”
Carla’s sigh of relief abruptly went into reverse. Sucking in air, she braced herself. “And what would that be?”
With an air of triumph, Jem said, “I bet he’s a good ten years younger than mystery man Perry.”
Chapter 26
Last week, Ginny had been envious of Evie. Now she no longer needed to be because it was—tra-laaa!—her turn. Jem was coming home at last for Easter week.
“I swapped my shifts at the pub,” she told Ginny. “Rupert’s off to the south of France and Lucy’s going back to Birmingham so I thought why stay here on my own when I can come and see you?”
So Rupert would be abroad; was that what had prompted Jem’s visit? If so, hooray for Rupert. Joyfully, Ginny said, “That’s such good news. I can’t wait to see you again. And you’ll be able to meet Laurel at last.”
“Not to mention Perry.” Jem sounded mischievous. “I definitely want to meet him.”
Hmm, if he was able to spare the time. It had occurred to Ginny lately that Perry might not be quite as besotted with her as he claimed to be; being busy at work was one thing, but she was beginning to suspect that something else might be up.
Still, asking him if he’d like to meet Jem might give her a chance to find out what that something might be. “Yes, but you’ll have to be discreet. Remember what I told you about Laurel.”
“I remember. Although I think it’s pretty ridiculous, the two of you having to skulk around keeping it a secret.”
Ginny thought it was pretty ridiculous too, but at the same time she could see that Perry had a point. Not that they’d been doing much skulking around recently—he claimed to be so rushed off his feet at the moment they hadn’t managed to meet up all week.
“I know, darling, but she’s his sister and he’s trying to spare her feelings. She’s just been a bit depressed, that’s all.”
“Well, tell her I’m great at cheering people up. I’ll be down on Friday evening. Mum, you know how much I love you…?”
“Shameless child.” Ginny grinned, because this was a familiar grovel. “Of course I’ll pick you up from the station.”
“Yay. So you’re free on Friday evening?”
“Absolutely.”
“In that case,” said Jem, “why don’t we have dinner at Penhaligon’s to celebrate me being back? My treat!”
“Jem, you can’t afford it.”
“Can’t I? OK then, your treat! How about a table for three?”
“You, me, and Dad? That’s a nice idea.” Ginny made a mental note to ring Gavin; she wasn’t sure if he was still seeing Cleo but he could surely bear to give her a miss for one—
“Actually, I’ve already rung Dad—we’re meeting up on the Saturday. I was thinking more you, me, and Perry.” Sounding pleased with herself Jem said gaily, “Clever eh? This way I’ll get to meet all your lovely new friends in one go!”
***
Just the sight of the peeling blue front door had a magical effect on Carla, drawing her toward it like a drug she was unable to resist. She’d been coming here for twelve days now and the magic was more powerful than ever. She rang the bell and Perry answered it. From then on they were cocooned in their own little world with trespassers prohibited and it was a feeling like no other she had ever known before. Total love. Total security. Total happiness.
Until Ginny found out.
Carla hated what she was doing but she couldn’t stop doing it. Raising her hand to the bell she rang it quickly, twice. Waited breathlessly for the sound of Perry running down the stairs. Felt her heart quicken as the door began to open.
He grinned at her, ushered her speedily inside. “Hello, you.”
Here came the feeling again. Sheer bliss. How could anyone give up something so utterly perfect?
After they’d made love Carla sprang her surprise.
“Tomorrow night we’ll be doing this in a four-poster bed.”
“What?”
“I’ve booked us into Curnow Castle. Their best suite.” At an eye-watering three hundred pounds a night, it had better be their best suite. Not that she regretted a penny of it—she’d wanted to make a splashy extravagant gesture, to celebrate how she felt about Perry. Stroking a damp tendril of red hair away from his forehead, Carla said, “You’ll love it.”
“I won’t, because I can’t go. You’ll have to cancel.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I’m seeing Ginny tomorrow night.”
“What?” Carla sat upright in bed, ice forming in the pit of her stomach. “But I want to see you. Tell Ginny something’s come up!”
Perry grinned at the choice of phrase, then regretfully shook his head.
“And I want to see you—of course I’d rather see you—but I can’t. She wants me to meet her daughter.”
“Jem?”
He clicked his fingers with relief. “That’s the name. Jem. I keep thinking it’s Jenny.”
Carla listened with growing dismay as Perry patiently explained that Ginny had called him last night and invited him to join them at Penhaligon’s. He had gently attempted to turn her down but Ginny had practically begged. Evidently Jem was keen to meet him and… well, it had been an awkward situation. In the end he hadn’t had the heart to say no.
“It means a lot to her,” Perry concluded reasonably. “I couldn’t let her down.”
“Because of Laurel.” Carla saw beyond the altruism in an instant. “Because you need to keep the charade going. To keep Ginny happy.”
He spread his hands. “Exactly. Not because I want to see her.”
“This is all wrong.” Vehemently Carla shook her head. “Laurel’s ruling your life, keeping us from being together.”
“Hey, hey,” Perry protested, “we are together.”
“Are we? Hiding here in your flat like fugitives when we haven’t even done anything wrong? I want us to be a proper couple!” Carla gazed at him in desperation. “I love you. We can’t carry on like this. It’s not fair on any of us. And you’re making a fool of Ginny. She’s my friend,” her voice rose, “and she doesn’t deserve this.”
“I know. But we don’t have any choice, not now at least. When the time’s right I’ll sort it all out.” Perry’s tone was soothing, willing her to trust him. “But not yet.”
***
“Sure she’s not too heavy?” said Finn.
“Not too heavy.” As Ginny had been leaving the restaurant after a busy Friday lunchtime shift, Finn had pulled into the courtyard in the van. Back from a country house auction on Bodmin Moor, he’d proudly shown off the Victorian marble statue he had acquired. Since Tom, his assistant in the shop, was currently busy with a customer, Ginny had offered to help him lift it out of the van and into the shop.
Actually, marble was heavier than it looked. But today was Friday and Jem was coming home. Ginny was on such a high she was pretty sure she cou
ld lift the statue and the van single-handed, if required.
Luckily it wasn’t.
“Got her?” Finn double-checked.
“Stop fussing. I’m stronger than I look.” Shaking her hair out of her eyes, she grinned at him and wrapped her arms securely around the ankles of the female statue. Finn, at the other end, had his arms round the woman’s bare chest. Together they moved backward across the gravel, negotiated the doorway, maneuvered the statue into an upright position… and breathed out.
“Well done.” Finn gazed at Ginny appraisingly. “I thought you were going to drop her. You are stronger than you look.”
“Just give me a telephone directory,” Ginny said modestly, “and watch me rip it in half.” She ran her hand over the cool, silky-smooth marble of the statue’s shoulder, thinking idly how nice it would look in her garden. “How much are you going to be selling her for?”
“Three grand.”
Yikes, maybe not then. Perhaps the home store did a cheaper version in fiberglass.
“Good job you didn’t tell me that before. I’d definitely have dropped her.”
“She’s one expensive lady.” Finn gave the statue’s bottom an appreciative pat. “And older than she looks.”
Ginny couldn’t help wondering how it felt, having your bottom patted by Finn. Hastily she dismissed the thought, pulled herself together. “No cellulite though. She’s taken good care of herself. Or else gone under the knife, had a bit of a nip and tuck. You could call her Cher.” As Ginny said it, her phone began to ring and Carla’s name flashed up on the screen. “Speaking of women without cellulite… hello, you! Where have you been?”
“Just… busy.” Carla sounded more subdued than usual. “Hi. Listen, I’m at home and I’d really like to see you. What are you doing?”
“Just finished work.” Intrigued, Ginny said, “You sound mysterious. What’s this about?”
“Can you come over now?”
“I’ve got some stuff to pick up in town first, but I can be there in about an hour. Jem’s coming home!”
There was a momentary pause before Carla said, “Is she?”
“I’m picking her up from the station at six thirty. I’m so excited I can’t wait. And guess what? We’re having dinner with Perry, the three of us together!”