‘Hello, Pizzaman, you’ve been hiding that from me,’ I observed as he walked out of sight. I was quickly distracted by my name being called, and let out a sigh of disappointment as I saw it was a nurse, not McFitty.
She didn’t seem convinced that I hadn’t actually deliberately stuck my fingers on a red hot, or rather hot but not red, hob and proceeded to bandage the three fingers until they looked like fat white sausages, which looked even more ridiculous offset against my plaster cast. I was told to go to the doctor’s the following day to get them looked at and they’d change the dressings and advise what to do next, but it was likely I’d need to keep them covered for another few weeks. Well, that definitely put my cooking plans on the back burner. I giggled at my inadvertent pun and thanked her for her time, then headed out of the door, bumping straight into Dr. Fitton.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ I gasped, using the opportunity to test out one of his biceps as I clung to him with my left hand. Hmmm, it seemed the sexy doctor worked out in his free time.
‘No problem,’ he answered, with a smile that told me he wasn’t impressed. He gently prised my clinging fingers from his arm and stalked away up the corridor as I watched, my heart thudding with excitement and disappointment. He hadn’t even recognised me. I knew it was crazy to imagine he would. After all, I was probably one of hundreds of women he treated every day, a thought that brought on a wave of irrational jealousy. But I’d memorised his face from our first meeting. I guess it was just wishful thinking that he’d have done the same and been dreaming of me since then.
I sighed and called Andy, Dilbury’s resident taxi driver, to ask if he could come and get me. I was looking forward to getting home and curling up in bed with Mrs. Tibbles. Life at the moment really sucked.
Chapter Four
Look Sexy
One Month Later – A Sunday in April
‘SERIOUSLY?’ I EXCLAIMED AS I leaned over to pour us both another cup of tea. Abbie had called me earlier to ask if I’d keep Daphne company. Usually Abbie and Georgie took it in turns to cook Sunday lunch and invite Daphne over, but after an apparent disaster at the latest wedding Abbie was a bridesmaid at, where Miller had turned up with another woman, she’d booked a last-minute holiday to Mexico and had dashed off to the airport with Georgie. They’d asked me to go with them, which I’d actually have loved to do, but after so many weeks of being unable to type, I had too much to do. That said, I’d never begrudge spending a few hours with one of the most hip eighty-year-olds I’d ever met.
‘Miller has a twin sister,’ Daphne repeated. ‘Who knew? He certainly kept that close to his chest.’
‘With his history, I’m not surprised. He probably didn’t want to say he’d been searching for her until he knew for sure he’d found her. He’s been let down so much in his life. I really hope she’s nice and won’t take advantage of him and his money.’
‘I feel so sorry for poor Abbie. It must have been such a shock to see him there with another woman, not knowing the truth. Then that horror Fi-Fi involving her in a scene at a wedding again. I’m not surprised she needed to get away and clear her head. I just hope she sees sense when she comes home and gets back together with him. I’ve rarely seen two people who are so meant to be.’ She sighed and sipped from her cup.
I’d not officially met Miller, as he and Abbie had split up before I’d arrived in Dilbury. I’d seen him in passing when he’d come all the way from New York to comfort Abbie when her dog, Mr. Sumo passed away last month, which said a lot about his character. Other than that, all I knew was that he was good-looking, with a very kind face. And I knew how badly Abbie missed him.
‘Anyway, how about you, dear? Any news on McFitty?’
‘No,’ I giggled, amused that she used the new name we were all calling him. ‘Short of causing myself a deliberate personal injury in an effort to see more of him, how would I? All I know about him is that he works at the hospital.’
‘Then you need to spend more time at the hospital. The more he sees you, the greater the chance of him noticing how attractive you are.’
‘Thank you, Daphne. But how do I spend more time at the hospital without him thinking I need psychiatric care due to the amount of injuries I go in with?’
‘There’s plenty of pensioners in the village that have regular hospital appointments, me included. You could offer your services out of the goodness of your heart.’ She winked at me, making me smile. ‘It would be a win-win. They’d save money on the taxi fare and you’d get to hang around and maybe see McFitty a little more often.’
‘They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and familiarity breeds contempt,’ I reminded her as I supped from my cup, wishing I’d brought over a pack of my cookies to drown my sorrows with.
‘Nonsense. A man never knows what’s missing from his life until we take the initiative and show him,’ she stated firmly.
‘I pity any man you set your sights on, Daphne. He stands no chance of escape,’ I laughed.
‘If David was still here, you could have asked him. He’d never have plucked up the courage to ask me out if I hadn’t made sure he saw me at every opportunity and made my interest in him clear.’
‘Forward thinking even in your day, you’re incredible. Do you think you’ll ever fall in love again?’ I wrote about characters who only ever had one great love in their lifetime and wondered if that was actually true. I couldn’t even write that from personal experience, I wasn’t sure I’d even been in love. In lust, yes, but love?
‘I don’t know, dear,’ she sighed, taking another sip of tea with a distant look in her wise old eyes. ‘He was the love of my life, and I’m not sure anyone can compete with the years of history I had with him. That said, there’s nothing to say that I might not fall in love again, even if it’s not so deeply. I don’t want to spend the rest of my years being lonely. Oh, I know I have you girls,’ she added quickly as she saw me open my mouth to say we’d always be there for her if she needed company. ‘But it’s not the same as having a man at your side, someone to hold your hand and tell you how beautiful you are when all you see in the mirror are the lines of history etched on your face, a reminder of what’s gone and how little is left to come.’
‘What about Mr. Bentley? You’re spending more time together.’
‘We are,’ she nodded, with an adorable blush. ‘We’re very good friends.’
‘That’s all?’
‘Sometimes great love starts with friendship, Charlie. We all dream of that instant, all-consuming need and passion for someone, and to have that returned, but it’s rare to find that and have it last a lifetime. When the passion fades, great friendship is what will see you through the rest of your years.’
‘Did you have that passion with David all of your life?’
‘I did,’ she smiled. She stayed silent for a while, obviously reflecting on her past, so I gave her the space to lose herself in her memories as I finished my tea. ‘But maybe it’s time for me to think about having an amazing friend at my side and let nature take its course. If love follows, that would be wonderful, but at my age, I’d rather have his friendship than start looking for love elsewhere.’
‘I really hope love comes again for you, both of you,’ I stated sincerely.
‘Thank you. And instead of hoping for it to come for you, you can get your diary out, or one of those fancy phones that seems to hold everyone’s lives in it nowadays, and put in my next hospital appointment in May. I’ll phone my friends and get some more dates off them and pass them on. The more times you go, the more chance you have of seeing him.’
‘You’re one in a million, Daphne,’ I smiled with a shake of my head as I put the date she repeated into my calendar.
‘Nonsense, dear,’ she rebuffed with a scoff. ‘There is no one like me, I’m unique.’ Her eyes twinkled with merriment as I laughed and nodded.
‘You’re right there.’
‘Oh my,’ she exclaimed, as we both jumped when there was a sharp, loud knock on her front d
oor. ‘Whoever can that be?’
‘Maybe it’s Mr. Bentley, wondering if you’re up for some Sunday afternoon delight, a bit of the old horizontal mambo,’ I suggested with a waggle of my eyebrows, which made her chuckle.
‘Be a dear and go and see who it is. If it’s salesmen or Jehovah Witnesses, tell them you just found me dead on the floor and you’re waiting for the undertaker. That should get rid of them.’
‘Daphne.’ I shook my head in amusement as I went and did as she asked. Opening her door, I was surprised to see Miller standing on her doorstep with whom I assumed was his sister, Quinn. She had his warm brown eyes.
‘Oh, hey. Charlie, right?’ Miller said as he ran a hand through his blond hair. I nodded, not sure what to say. ‘Sorry, I … I’m looking for Abbie. Is she here?’
‘Ermmm,’ I grimaced, not sure it was my place to tell him she’d fled the country. ‘Daphne, I think you’re needed.’
‘Who is it, Charlie?’ she called.
‘Miller and his sister.’
‘Well, well. Don’t leave them on the doorstep, bring them in and flick the kettle on again while you’re up.’
‘You heard the lady.’ I swept my arm to gesture them in and returned the warm smile that Quinn gave me. She wasn’t what I’d expected. She had platinum hair with multi-coloured tips, in a sharp bob to the jawline on one side and shaved on the other. She looked like someone I’d have seen out in the trendy bars in Cheltenham, not the sort of woman who frequented Dilbury, that was for sure. Then again, how would I know what to expect?
‘Thanks.’ Miller gave me a wan smile as he stepped inside. The signs of a sleepless night showed on his face, judging by the dark bruises under his eyes and an unshaven jaw.
‘Thanks,’ Quinn agreed, with a noticeable American accent.
‘No problem. What can I get you to drink?’
‘Black coffee, please,’ Miller nodded. ‘Quinn?’
‘I’m good, thanks.’
I left them to go into the lounge and see Daphne to get the bad news, and went and made Daphne and Miller’s drinks. I decided it would be best if I went home and gave them some privacy. I felt like I was intruding as I hardly knew the poor guy. I cleared my throat before padding into the lounge, carrying the tray. Miller was standing with his back to me, looking out at Daphne’s immaculately kept garden. Having a nephew to do it for you certainly paid off. Maybe I needed to think about hiring Heath too. At this rate, my neglected garden was going to either turn into an overgrown jungle or a tired-looking wasteland.
‘Here you go, Daphne. I think it’s best I give you some peace to talk in private.’
‘Actually, dear, I was about to suggest the same thing, but I have a favour to ask, and before you say yes, it’s a big one.’
‘You know I’ll help with whatever I can, as long as it’s not cooking dinner for you all. I’d probably poison everyone. I have about five different takeout places’ numbers memorised if that helps?’ I offered, and Quinn laughed and nodded.
‘I hear you. When you live in New York, surrounded by places to eat, where’s the incentive to cook?’
‘It’s not cooking, but honestly, girls. You’ll never find husbands with that attitude,’ Daphne scoffed.
‘Daphne Jones!’ I exclaimed. ‘I thought you were more modern thinking than to come out with a phrase like that. It’s the twenty-first century, there’s nothing wrong with a man doing the cooking.’
‘In my limited experience, there is,’ she replied, screwing up her face as if she was recalling an awful meal.
‘Well, that’s what happens when you only date men your age. If you found yourself a toy boy who’d been brought up to learn those skills, you might change your mind. So, relieved as I am to hear it’s not cooking, what’s the favour?’
‘I’d like to spend some time alone with Miller. We need a long chat and he needs a good night’s sleep before he heads back home, so he’s going to stay in my spare room tonight.’
‘Daphne,’ Miller began to protest.
‘Don’t argue with me, I’ve made up my mind. You don’t want to make an old lady who’s on the verge of death upset, do you?’
‘You’re not on the verge of death,’ I laughed. ‘You’re in better shape than some women half your age. Honestly, you’re such a drama queen, you should be in amateur dramatics.’ Daphne giggled. She was a crafty old fox, she knew exactly how to play a room. I so wanted to be like her when I grew up.
‘Now, Charlie, be a dear and offer Quinn a room for the night. My other spare room is full of boxes of David’s things, which I must get around to sorting one day.’
‘I agree that it would be best if Miller spent the night here with you, but there’s no need for Charlie to put herself out on my account. I can stay in a hotel, I’m sure I saw a sign for one nearby?’
‘Nonsense, Charlie spends too much time on her own, living with her characters. It will do her good to have some real-life company, won’t it, dear?’ Daphne said, giving me a look that said non-compliance wouldn’t be tolerated.
‘Daphne, don’t steamroll the woman into putting my sister up. I can sort a room at Severn Manor for her,’ Miller said, his back still to us.
‘She’s not steamrolling. Besides, Severn Manor is usually booked well in advance. How do you feel about a wild night out instead of a boring night in with me and my cat, Quinn?’ I asked, turning to face my new roommate.
‘I’m the queen of wild, are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?’ she responded with a grin.
‘Bring it on,’ I grinned back. I hadn’t been out in ages. It was the perfect excuse and she looked like she’d be fun.
‘Lord help Shrewsbury,’ Daphne uttered. ‘I’m sure Miller would like his sister back in one piece, Charlie.’
‘What are you trying to say?’ I asked indignantly.
‘Quinn, get your fancy phone out and save the number 999 in it, as a night out with this one will end up with you needing to dial it, it’s almost a guarantee.’ Daphne gave me a look as I went to protest, then sighed and shrugged. She was probably right.
‘9, 9, 9,’ Quinn repeated as she did as she was told. ‘Is that a cab company?’
‘Emergency services.’ She looked at me wide-eyed. ‘I’m sort of accident-prone sober, so mix in alcohol and who knows what could happen.’
‘There’s no “sort of” about it,’ Daphne scoffed. ‘Well, come on then, off you go. See you both in the morning, not too early mind, I like my lie-ins.’
I loitered as Miller turned around to hug Quinn goodbye, and the reason for him keeping his back to us became clear. The poor guy had anguish written all over his face. I suspected the minute we left, he was going to break down on Daphne’s shoulder. From what I’d heard about him, he was some huge mogul in America, running a billion-dollar gaming corporation. But I guess any man could weep if the right woman broke his heart.
‘There’s no way I’m gonna fit in any of your clothes, Charlie,’ Quinn rightly observed as we looked in my wardrobe for something suitable for her to wear on a night out, as she had limited supplies in her small suitcase. Mrs. Tibbles eyed the newcomer with interest from the bed, the tip of her tail flexing back and forth. ‘I’m too tall.’
‘Or I’m too short,’ I nodded, turning to face her. ‘What are you wearing under that jumper?’
‘What’s a jumper?’ she asked, looking confused.
‘This,’ I replied, tugging it. ‘What do you guys call it?’
‘A sweater. I’m gonna have to learn a whole new language if Miller and Abbie get back together.’
‘When they get back together. I’m sure they will, she just needed a time out. So, what’s under your sweater?’
‘A shirt, why?’
‘Let me see it, I have an idea.’
‘Ok,’ she said, not sounding convinced. She pulled it over her head to reveal a black silk shirt. When I told her to pull it out, it hung down to rest mid-thigh.
‘Perfect,’ I
clapped. ‘I’m hoping that you don’t have an issue with baring a bit of leg, or in your case a lot of leg?’
‘No, why?’
‘Because you can ditch your jeans and wear the shirt as a dress with a belt, and wear those black biker boots you already have on. I’ve got a chunky black belt with metal studs on it somewhere, which should go with it perfectly.’ I pulled it out of my wardrobe with a flourish and handed it to her.
‘Awesome,’ she nodded, taking it off me.
‘Hmmm, you’re going to look sexy in that, and there’s no way I’m being out-sexied on a night out,’ I said, making her laugh.
An hour later, Andy, his eyes on stalks, was driving us into Shrewsbury. I suspected that he was more used to taking the pensioners into town than a couple of women dolled up for a night out. Quinn was rocking the sexy biker chick look, while I’d put on my black suede, over-the-knee, high-heeled boots with a short black jumper dress that had a low-cut back. I was lucky that my boobs hadn’t yet started the old-age migration south to hibernate in the bush, never to return north. I could still rock it braless when I needed to. Even Quinn had admitted we looked hot as we’d finished doing our eyes and checked ourselves out in the mirror.
‘Cheers, Andy, we’ll probably call you later,’ I told him as I paid him and shut the door. ‘Right, I don’t know how you do it in New York, but here we take advantage of an empty stomach. You can get leathered on a few cheap jugs or shots, then hit a club legless and save paying their extortionate drink prices. When we’re done, we can hit up the kebab shop on the way back and pray we don’t barf in the taxi on the way home, or Andy will bar me from using him again. Sound good?’
‘I didn’t understand half of what you said, but I’m up for an adventure,’ she grinned. I high fived her and we headed to the nearest cocktail bar on a mission. I’d got sick of doing this a couple of times a week back in Cheltenham, but after a period of abstinence, I was actually looking forward to a night of carefree fun. It helped that, so far, we were getting on great, setting aside the odd language lesson we were having to give each other.
The Best Medicine Page 5