“You didn’t find anything interesting up there then?” Bea asked hopefully.
Paul shook his head, brushing a determined cobweb from his hair. “I've had a quick peak, but nothing that could be your painting. It's very dusty and full of trunks, a scary coat stand covered with strange-looking furs, and old bits of furniture. I think you'll need to sort it out at some point.” He shrugged. “Even if you don’t find what you’re looking for, maybe your aunt kept some stuff of your mum’s up there.”
His suggestion gave her a jolt. She’d approached her aunt so many times when she was small about her mother’s belongings, but Aunt Annabel had always rebuffed her saying that it was too upsetting for her to go through them. She’d promised to show Bea at some point, but they’d never got round to it. “I suppose I can look at her bits now without worrying about upsetting Aunt Annabel. I don’t think there’s anything mysterious up there, though. I just think she missed mum so much she hated thinking about losing her.”
“Strange, when you think what a tough old bird your aunt was,” Shani said, smiling at Bea.
She nodded. “I’ll leave you to it and put the kettle on,” Bea said, leaving the room mainly to have a think. She’d got so used to not being allowed into the attic, apart from the time she’d snuck up there when her aunt was out, that it hadn’t occurred to her to do so. What would she find?
Two hours later, having boiled the kettle on the Aga, Bea called them to sit down at the kitchen table. “At least we’ve found homes for most of your bits,” Bea said enthusiastically.
“Yeah,” Paul agreed, finishing off a custard cream with relish. “Thank heavens you had the baby’s room for us to fill, too.”
“I don’t understand where I hid all this stuff at the flat.” Shani pushed her hands through her short unwashed hair looking confused.
“I do, your room was always a tip,” Paul groaned. “I’m not going to know what to do with all the space now you’ve moved out.” He laughed when Shani pulled a face. “I’m only joking. I’ll miss you really.”
“Anyway,” Bea said passing them their drinks, “we can take the next few weeks to go through the rest of your boxes and bags and whittle down what you don’t need and do a car boot sale or something. We’re going to need to decorate the baby’s room soon anyhow and can do it all then.”
“At least we have Tom’s dinner party to look forward to,” Guy added.
“That’s another problem,” moaned Shani miserably. “I have to find something I can still fit into.”
Bea smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s one thing you don’t have to worry about. I have more than enough clothes to lend you and I don’t have the excuse of pregnancy for wearing them.”
“Great. What will you wear?”
“No idea. I would like to buy something new but we know my financial status, so it’s out of the question.”
“Why don’t you ask Mel if she has anything you could borrow? You look as if you’ve lost quite a bit of weight recently,” said Paul. “I have a sneaky suspicion you haven’t been eating properly. You don’t want shitty Simon to think you’re losing weight because you’re missing him.”
“I can always make you some meals for your freezer if you wish,” Guy offered. “From what I hear of your ex-husband, he sounds like the type of man who would only see your thinness as proof you pine for him.”
Bea shuddered at the thought. “What a revolting idea.”
Paul leant back in his chair and sighed contentedly. “I think that’s a great plan, Guy. Thanks.”
Bea shrugged. “Normally I’d say not to worry, but the idea that we can eat your food is too good an offer to turn down.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Shani agreed.
Bea noticed how pale and exhausted she suddenly seemed. “Right, I think it’s time we let Shani go and have an early night. Don’t you agree, boys?”
“I’m fine.” She stroked her stomach gently.
Paul shook his head. “No, Bea’s right. You look worn out.” He motioned to Guy for them to leave. “I think it’s time we left you in peace and made our way home, too.” Paul stood up and took the empty mugs to the sink. “I wonder what Tom will expect you to make for Saturday, Bea?”
“I don’t know yet,” answered Bea, following them to the front door. She was dreading Saturday but didn’t want to admit that to her friends. She would just have to put a determined smile on her face. After all, she mused as she waved goodbye to them, how awful could it possibly be?
TWENTY-ONE
Heat and Shade
“Chateaubriand?” shrieked Shani a few days later as they pottered in the garden dead-heading the numerous rose bushes lining the driveway. “How the hell do you cook that?”
“I’ve no idea.” Bea waved her secateurs in the air. “And before you explode, I’ve already told him that if he wanted Chateaubriand, then he’d have to make it, but that he should rather serve something else for his guests instead.”
Shani stood with one hand on her stomach and the other on her back. “What, like tuna melt or spag bol, you mean?”
“I’m holding a weapon, Shani.” Bea pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.
“Scary. Ouch, damn roses. And what did he reply to that?”
“Guess.” Bea cut several roses and put them to one side, when Shani didn’t answer she added, “He said he was only joking, and you know how useless I am at knowing when people are joking.”
Shani stopped sucking the blood from her pricked finger and, eyebrows raised in disbelief, shook her head slowly.
Bea laughed. “Why are you glaring at me?”
Shani smiled and sighed. “Did we miss something in our teen magazines? Didn’t they write hints about ways to avoid men who are full of their own self-importance?”
Bea shrugged. “I’ve no idea; now stop moaning and get on with what you’re doing. At least we’ve both decided what to wear for this meal of his. That at least is some sort of achievement for both of us right now.”
“True,” Shani said. “You look lovely in Mel’s red shift dress and nude shoes. I said it would suit you, but you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Yes, I know, I’ll listen to you next time you make such a fuss.” Bea pushed down the cuttings in the bucket with her polka-dotted gloved hand. “I still can’t believe she agreed to let me borrow it.”
Shani nodded in agreement. “She wants us to get together for the final wedding arrangements next week; I can’t think of any other reason she’s lending you clothes right now.” Shani winced and rubbed her bump rapidly. “Ooh, I’d place bets this baby is going to be a professional rugby player. He kicks like a horse.”
“Sit down for a bit and take a break.” Bea indicated the low wall by the driveway.
“You never did say what he’s going to cook for Saturday.” Shani bent down carefully, panting lightly to take the edge off the pain.
“No idea. It’s a shame Guy hasn’t been asked to do the cooking.”
“I’d be looking forward to it far more if he was. I’m surprised he was able to get a night off on a Saturday, too. I’ve got a feeling poor Guy has been forced into taking the night off.”
****
“Perfect timing,” said Tom, opening the heavy bleached oak door and pecking her lightly on the cheek. He turned to lead her towards the kitchen. “Come and check if this is okay will you?”
Bea lifted the foil and breathed in the smell of the perfectly cooked joint. “Looks and smells great.” So he had been joking when he’d asked her to make the Chateaubriand.
“Mel will kill you if you have fat on her dress,” Shani whispered from behind her.
Tom covered the meat, careful not to splash his immaculate chinos and Hugo Boss pink shirt and then walked with her into the neutrally decorated lounge. He poured Bea a glass of wine from a crystal decanter.
“Thanks, just what I need.” She took a sip and carefully placed the glass down on the dining-room table, noting that it looked as if a ruler had
been used to place each piece of cutlery at precise distances from each other. “Apple juice?” he asked Shani.
Paul and Guy arrived. “Shan, you’re looking voluptuous, for once,” Paul said, pointing at her boobs. “You look so different with those, or are you wearing a clever bra?”
“Stop it,” Guy said, hugging Shani. “You’re looking very beautiful tonight.”
Shani smiled. “It’s me and a clever bra. I thought I’d make the most of having something to show off for a change.”
Tom marched over to them, holding a glass of wine in each hand. “Great to see you both here,” he said, fawning over Guy in such an obvious way Bea knew Paul would be teasing him the following day. “I’ve done my best, but the food won’t be to your standard.”
“I’m certain it will be delicious,” Guy said. “It is a treat not to be the one catering for others.”
Tom smiled as if not quite sure whether he was being teased not. “Well we’ll soon find out.”
The doorbell rang and Tom hurried to welcome Mel and Grant in to the apartment. Luke and Leilani followed closely behind. She was wearing a short, olive-green shift dress that Bea suspected no one else she knew could carry off so well. Tom and Grant stared at her, both forgetting to close their mouths for a few moments.
“Shani, you look blooming,” Luke said, seemingly oblivious to the intense focus on his partner. “Hello, Bea, it’s good to see you again.” He pushed back his hair. “Red suits you.”
The soft tone of his baritone voice sent Bea’s stomach into rapturous somersaults. “It’s good to see you too,” she replied, her voice a little higher than she would have liked. Grateful to hear the doorbell ring once more, she took the opportunity to leave Luke talking to Shani and opened the door to Paige and Jeremy.
After a few drinks, Tom showed everyone to their seats. Bea noticed Luke’s designated chair was diagonally across from her own and couldn’t help sensing his gaze. By the time they got round to eating the delicious New York cheesecake Tom had bought from the French patisserie in town, she managed to find a break in Leilani’s constant chatter. “How’s it been living on the boat?” she asked, thinking of the storms they’d experienced the previous week.
“Exciting is probably the best way to describe it,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “Summer’s definitely the best time to live on-board though, especially if you don’t like rough weather.”
“Have you always had boats?” Shani asked. “I hate them and once got sick before the ferry had even left the harbour.”
“It’s true,” Bea laughed, recalling the day they’d decided to visit St Malo for lunch. “The water was like a mirror, nothing moved at all.”
Shani nodded. “I really am crap on the sea. It ruined our day because all I did the whole time we were in France was moan about having to come back again that evening.”
Luke shrugged. “Sailing doesn’t suit everyone. I’ve always had boats, from very small ones when I was a teenager and saved up to buy this one. I wanted a boat like ‘Trojan’, for years and when the opportunity arose to buy her, I was determined not to miss it.”
“Sounds very like Swallows and Amazons,” Paul laughed, sounding as if he had already had one too many to drink. “Can we come and have a look on board?”
Tom frowned at him and turned to Luke. “What type of boat is it?”
Luke sighed dreamily, “She’s a magnificent Rampart, forty-two-footer.”
Tom didn’t seem any the wiser and Bea decided he probably had no more idea about boats than she did. “When was she built, then? I mean, if you’ve lusted after one since your childhood, she must be something special.”
“She’s much older than me. She was built in 1955, and made of wood. She takes more looking after than a fibreglass boat, but I love the character these older boats have.”
Bea couldn’t help noticing how his eyes sparkled as he spoke lovingly about his home.
“Where is she?” Paige asked, dabbing her mouth with her napkin.
“She’s moored in the marina most of the time, and I’ve been sleeping on her while I’m carrying out the renovations at my cottage in St Catherines.”
“But surely that’s not allowed?” Paige asked. “Aren’t there regulations about living on boats?”
“Not really.” He gave Bea a meaningful glance and half smiled. She flushed at the memory of their trip to the Ecrehous together.
“Luke doesn’t stay there by himself all that much,” Leilani interrupted, nudging Luke as she raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow, her innuendo blatant. “Personally I can’t see what all the fuss is about. It’s an old boat and not very high spec as far as I can tell and, let’s face it, this is hardly the climate to be living on-board, is it?”
Luke shook his head and sighed. “It probably depends on what you’re used to.”
By the time Tom served coffee in the comfort of the cream living room, Leilani was holding court with Paige, Jeremy, Tom, Mel and Grant, telling them stories about her experiences on the runway. “Catwalk to you guys.”
Shani and Guy whispered and giggled in the corner of the room and Bea watched silently. Luke walked over to her and sat down. Leaning back into the cream leather settee, he turned his body to face her. “Shani tells me she’s moved into The Brae with you?”
Bea nodded.
“I could have helped with her stuff. I gather she has more than she expected hidden away at her flat.” He smiled at the thought.
“I’ve no idea where she’s been hiding it all.” Bea raised her eyebrows. “It’s all stored away now though and it’s made me realise I should also tidy up my attic; the Jersey Kiss could be stored up there somewhere.” She took a sip of her drink and relaxed further into the seat. “It’s lovely having her in the house,” Bea admitted, staring into her half empty glass.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, so quietly she wasn’t sure if she had imagined the words.
Bea blinked in surprise and looked up at his serious expression. “Sorry?” She glanced around the room, relieved no one appeared interested in their conversation.
“You heard me,” he said gently, not taking his eyes away from her. “I’ve enjoyed being with you tonight. Can’t we put everything behind us and start again?”
Bea didn’t have to consider his invitation. “Yes, of course,” she said, wishing it was that simple.
He smiled at her and Bea felt her heart pounding as her breath shortened. She studied his rugged face.
“Is everything all right?” he asked. “You’re looking a little tense this evening.”
Bea sighed. “It’s nothing.”
“Bea,” Luke said, placing his hand on hers. “Tell me, maybe I can help.”
Why not, she thought. If he was crafty enough to find a way to launder money then maybe he could come up with some idea how she could sting Simon. She told him about the court order and her desperation to sort things out.
Luke thought for a moment.
“I’ve thought of something you can do,” Mel said, sitting down next to Bea. “You want to apply for a Martin Order.”
“What’s that?” Bea had heard of a Mesher Order where the wife is given enjoyment of the home until an agreed time, usually when the youngest child had finished their education, but they didn’t have children. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“I’ve heard of one of those,” Luke said thoughtfully. “They’re pretty rare though, aren’t they?”
Mel nodded. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Too much time listening to my mum fretting about this wedding, I suppose.”
Bea wished she’d hurry up. “What is it though? Tell me.”
Mel leaned closer to Bea. “It’s where one party signs over the property to the other’s name.”
Bea narrowed her eyes in disbelief at his suggestion. “You seriously believe Simon would agree to sign over The Brae to me. Just like that,” she clicked her fingers.
“You never know,” Luke said. “It’s wort
h a try.”
“I’ll definitely ask him, but I’m pretty sure he’ll tell me to bugger off.” She sighed, wishing Mel’s suggestion had been remotely achievable.
“Think about it,” he said, “maybe there’s a way to persuade him.”
“I’m sure we’ll find some way round this,” Mel said. “We just need to have a damn good think.”
“Listen up everyone,” Leilani said, standing in the middle of the room. Bea tried not to show her annoyance at Leilani interrupting their conversation. Leilani held up an almost empty wine glass and beamed pointedly at every one in the room. “Lukey didn’t want me to say anything tonight.” She pouted prettily, her immaculate lipstick unmarred by the three-course meal. “But I’m too excited to keep it to myself any longer.”
Bea looked quizzically from Leilani’s exotic features back to Luke. He shrugged. “I’ve no idea what she’s talking about.” He shook his head. “Never could cope with much alcohol,” he joked raising his eyebrows. Bea giggled, enjoying his disparaging remarks against the perfection of womanhood showing off in front of them.
“Lukey and I are to be married,” she squealed, theatrically throwing her arms out to encase her audience.
“What?” Luke’s eyes widened. Bea’s heart pounded, but she couldn’t move and watched as Paige immediately congratulated Leilani with kisses and hugs. “I know, I know. Isn’t he darling?” Leilani blew a kiss at Luke who sat motionless, staring back at her in silence. “We haven’t had a chance to choose a ring yet, but it needs to be exactly what we want.”
Bea, a stabbing jolt in her solar plexus, tried her best to make sense of what she’d just heard. She looked away from Leilani and focused on the cream carpet. She heard Luke swear under his breath and felt him push himself up from next to her, watching as he crossed the room in one stride to his bride-to-be.
“I think it’s time we were leaving,” he announced, his voice a monotone and his expression like granite as he took Leilani firmly by the elbow. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Tom.” He shook Tom’s proffered hand before turning to Bea. “It was good catching up with you.”
A Jersey Kiss (Jersey Romance Series) Page 24