by Jill Mansell
‘You need to tell her now,’ Gigi said matter-of-factly.
Flynn shook his head. ‘Let’s do the presents first.’
‘Dad, no way, trust me.’
He looked discomfited. ‘But—’
‘That wouldn’t work,’ Gigi interrupted before he could protest. ‘Do it now.’
What was going on? Lara could hear Don, Nettie and Evie out in the kitchen, singing along to ‘White Christmas’ on the radio. She watched as Gigi and Flynn exchanged a long meaningful look. Finally Gigi said, ‘If you don’t tell her, I will.’
‘Tell me what?’ But in that split second she knew why Flynn was so reluctant to break what was clearly pretty momentous news. Oh God, and of course Gigi knew because he would already have discussed it with her. Inwardly trembling, Lara said, ‘Let me guess, it’s about Annabel.’ She hoped her voice didn’t sound as weird and echoey as it felt; if she hadn’t already been sitting, her legs might have wobbled and given way. ‘You’ve got engaged . . .’
This was what Gigi had been preparing her for the other night, letting her know she’d missed her chance.
‘Yes,’ said Flynn. He paused and shook his head. ‘Well, no. I mean, yes, it’s about Annabel . . .’
‘Honestly, you’re hopeless. Forget it,’ Gigi interrupted when he faltered once more. ‘I’ll do it myself. OK, now listen.’ She turned to address Lara. ‘Back in October, Dad met Annabel at the wine-tasting we told you about. They got chatting afterwards and she told him she was dreading a works dinner where she was expected to take a boyfriend along with her, because she didn’t have one.’
Flynn joined in. ‘Then she said jokily, “Unless you’d like to do the honours.” And it was on a night when I was free, so I said I would. Just to help her out.’
Lara wondered how much longer she was going to have to keep the this-is-so-interesting expression fixed to her face.
‘So he did,’ Gigi announced with relish.
‘Lovely! Isn’t that romantic?’ Lara’s valiant smile was starting to make her cheeks ache.
‘And then he asked Annabel to return the favour.’
‘Right.’ Bemused, Lara said to Flynn, ‘What, you needed to take a partner along to some event?’ Really, could they get the story told and finished? The last thing she wanted to hear was every last nauseating detail.
‘I did. At Aqua,’ said Flynn.
‘Oh.’ Bloody sodding Aqua. ‘So that’s why it’s your favourite restaurant.’
‘Mum.’ Gigi rolled her eyes. ‘Sometimes you’re quite clever. And other times you’re just amazingly, incredibly thick.’ She hauled herself to her feet and looked at Flynn. ‘OK, my work here is done. She’s all yours now. Good luck.’
The door closed behind her and then it was just the two of them in the living room. Flynn raked his hair back from his forehead and said slowly, ‘Annabel isn’t my girlfriend. She never was. It was Gigi’s idea, she said maybe it would do the trick, make you change your mind about . . . you know, us.’
This was so much the opposite of what she’d been bracing herself to hear, Lara struggled to take the words in. It was like being six years old again, giddy with excitement on Christmas Eve as she put carrots and mince pies out ready for Santa and his reindeer. Until her father had whispered in her ear, ‘Santa isn’t real, you know. He’s just made up. I’m the one who has to pay for your presents.’
It was a moment she’d never shared with anyone. Even when her mum had carried on gaily chatting about Father Christmas and Rudolph, Lara had instinctively known her mother would be upset if she told her what she knew.
The memory had risen up from nowhere, a disorientating revelation that at the time had rocked her six-year-old world. Lara blinked; Flynn’s words might have the ability to rock but there was one all-important difference now. This time he was telling her something she did want to hear.
‘I asked Gigi what she wanted for Christmas,’ Flynn went on.
‘So did I.’ Her skin was zinging, the air in the room crackling with electricity. Or did it only feel that way?
‘I’m guessing she gave us both the same answer.’ He paused, watching her. ‘Well, anyway, there you go. Now you know the truth.’
‘But . . . you took me shopping to help you choose presents for Annabel.’
‘And I took them straight back to the shops the next day. That was Gigi’s idea too, to make you jealous.’ Another pause. ‘Did it work?’
Go on. Be honest.
‘Yes,’ Lara said simply. ‘It did, it really did.’
‘Well, that’s a good start. She said it would. I wasn’t so sure.’
It was still a struggle; one minute she’d been expecting an engagement announcement, the next she was being told that Annabel didn’t exist . . . well, she still existed but not in a girl-friendy way. ‘Can I ask something else? What about the silk dressing gown from Harvey Nicks?’
‘It wasn’t from Annabel. Or Harvey Nichols. We ordered it off Amazon, express delivery.’ Flynn smiled. ‘It only cost fifty pounds. Why, would you like one too?’
Actually, she probably would. Fifty pounds was a complete bargain for something that looked as if it had come from Harvey Nicks.
‘So basically, this was quite a complicated plan,’ said Lara.
‘Sometimes you need a complicated plan. God knows, none of the other ones worked.’
‘Oh? And what were they?’
‘Telling you I liked you,’ He started counting on his fingers. ‘Trying to seduce you. Telling you I no longer wanted to seduce you . . .’
Lara bit her lip at the memory of the last one, which had definitely made her feel a bit panicky.
‘And this is the last resort,’ said Flynn. ‘It’s up to you now. You know how I feel. You know what Gigi wants. And there are never going to be any rock-solid guarantees, but I really think we could be happy together for the rest of our lives and it would be a bloody tragedy if we didn’t even give it a try. So, yes or no?’
Yes or no? Yes or no? He was the father of her child and she’d never stopped loving him, not for a minute. She’d spent these last months saying no and convincing herself it was for the best.
But what if she’d been wrong?
Rising to her feet – God, her knees were jiddering – Lara took a clumsy couple of steps forward and said, ‘Yes, please.’
How long had he been kissing her? All Lara knew was that the singers in the kitchen had been warbling along to ‘A Winter’s Tale’ and now they were all bellowing out Greg Lake’s ‘I Believe In Father Christmas’. Whether there’d been other songs in between was anybody’s guess.
‘Now listen to me.’ Flynn drew back at last and gazed into her eyes. ‘I love you, more than you’ll ever know.’ He held her face between his hands. ‘This is going to work, do you believe that?’
Lara nodded, blinking back tears. It was such a relief to be able to relax and stop fighting every animal instinct in her body. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Good.’
‘And I love you too.’ She needed to say it, needed him to hear it. It was the truth.
‘Guess what?’ said Flynn, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. ‘This is all I wanted for Christmas . . .’
‘Brilliant. Lucky I kept the receipt for that shirt, then.’
Amused, he indicated the parcels under the tree. ‘Your presents are still there. Want to open them now?’
‘Are they good ones?’
‘I think you’ll like them,’ said Flynn.
Of course she liked them; hadn’t she practically chosen them herself? The light-as-a-feather, swingy suede coat from Armani and the perfect black stilettos with crystal bows on the heels. They looked amazing and fitted like a dream.
‘You took a risk,’ said Lara. ‘I thought you were buying them for someone else. I might have chosen horrible stuff on purpose.’
‘But I knew you wouldn’t. You’re not that type of person. That’s why I love you.’
‘Is that the only reason?’
‘If I put my mind to it, I’m sure I could think of a few more.’
Lara kissed him again, then said, ‘That crew in the kitchen will be wondering what’s going on.’
‘You’re right. We should probably tell them.’
The door burst open and Gigi cried, ‘No need, we were listening! This is so brilliant . . .’
Behind her, Evie said, ‘And about time too.’
By one o’clock all the food had been prepared and was either in the oven or on the hob.
‘If you two want to head off,’ said Nettie, ‘now would be the best time to do it.’
‘Head off? What for?’ Lara wasn’t missing lunch for anything.
‘We’ll be dishing up at two.’ Nettie wiped her hands on a tea towel and tapped the watch on her wrist. ‘So you’ll have an hour.’
‘Great.’ Flynn had already reached for his car keys. ‘That’s plenty of time.’
‘Hang on, I don’t have a clue what’s going on here.’ Her face burning, Lara feigned ignorance; if he’d asked Nettie to give them an hour so he could whisk her back to his flat for mad passionate sex, she would just die of embarrassment.
I mean, OK, it would be seriously long overdue mad passionate sex, but still. Talk about inappropriate.
‘Ha!’ Gigi was pointing gleefully at her. ‘Look at Mum’s face! I know what she’s thinking.’
‘It’s not that.’ Flynn was holding the caramel suede coat out, ready for Lara to slide her arms into the sleeves. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’
Hmm, she’d heard that line before.
‘It’s another present.’ Gigi was clearly in on the surprise. ‘Well, kind of. No designer labels though, this time.’ She pointed to Lara’s feet. ‘And you won’t want to be wearing those heels.’
Never before had driving through central Bath been so effortless. The normally clogged streets were virtually empty, all the shops closed. The silence was surreal.
‘Are you going to tell me where we’re headed?’
‘No, you’ll just have to wait. Be patient.’ Flynn glanced sideways at her and said good-naturedly, ‘See how much you like it, for a change.’
Great waves of happiness kept washing over her; Lara simply couldn’t keep the stupid smile off her face. ‘If a thing’s worth waiting for, it’s worth . . . waiting for. OK, that’s not quite right, but I know what I mean.’
‘Eighteen years. Actually, nineteen years now,’ he amended. ‘That’s a pretty long wait.’
‘I’m worth it.’
Flynn’s mouth twitched. ‘So am I.’
The city was looking stunning; the sky was palest blue and the snow sparkled like crystallised sugar in the bright sunlight. When she saw where Flynn was stopping the car, Lara realised why Gigi had insisted on her changing out of stilettos into low-heeled boots.
Royal Victoria Park, open every day of the year, was also emptier than usual, although they did pass the occasional family and dog-walker along the way. Much as she wanted to admire the beauty of the frost-laden trees, Lara found herself endlessly distracted by the sight of her hand clasped in Flynn’s. It looked and felt so right. Just being here, her arm pressed against his, the blissful physical proximity, filled her with pure joy. She’d learned her lesson; life was here to be lived and risks needed to be taken. It was the only way.
‘Not far to go now,’ said Flynn as they climbed a slope and took a left turn.
This wasn’t where James had collapsed and died. Thankful for that, Lara gave his hand a squeeze. Finally they rounded a bend in the path and Flynn said, ‘Here we are.’
They’d reached a small clearing ringed by shrubs and trees. In the centre stood a wooden bench, its slats covered with a light powdering of snow. Allowing him to draw her towards it, Lara watched as he used his free hand to wipe frost from the brass plaque on the bench’s backrest.
Engraved on it were the words ‘Barbara and James. In loving memory.’
Flynn’s arm was around her. Lara leaned against him, her head resting on his chest, and gazed at the plaque until the names blurred.
‘That’s perfect. Thank you so much. They’re here for ever now.’
‘I know.’ He gave her a squeeze and dropped a kiss on top of her head.
It felt fantastic; how could she ever tire of that happening? Gazing up at him, Lara said, ‘What would you have done if we hadn’t got back together?’
‘I’d have sneaked back here in the dead of night with a screwdriver and taken the plaque off. Or hired a van and driven off with the whole bench, then burned it.’ He broke into a smile and shook his head. ‘No, this wasn’t a bribe; it’s not part of the deal. I wanted to do it anyway.’
‘I love it.’ Lara surveyed the clearing. ‘I wonder if my mum and James were ever here, actually right here on this spot?’
‘Oh, I’m sure they were,’ said Flynn.
Where was he taking her now? She stayed at his side as he led her away from the bench and towards the trees in front of it. He paused at the edge of the clearing and pointed to the trunk of an old silver birch, its overhanging branches iced with snow.
‘Oh . . .’ breathed Lara, transfixed by what was carved into the silver-grey bark. There it was, the slightly lopsided heart painstakingly created by James almost forty years ago, enclosing the initials BC and JA. Shaking her head, she said, ‘I can’t believe you found it. I spent ages looking.’ She’d come here to the park a couple of times following James’s death, but with fifty-seven acres to search, had been defeated.
‘I’d love to lie and take the credit.’ Flynn watched her reach up and slowly trace the initials with her index finger. ‘But I can’t. I asked one of the gardeners employed by the council’s parks department. He didn’t know, but he put me in touch with another gardener who told me there was an old guy called Billy who’s retired now, but worked here for forty years.’ He paused, then went on, ‘So I spoke to Billy and he knew at once which tree it was. But he couldn’t describe the location very well, so I went to fetch him and brought him along in his wheelchair to show me.’
‘Where did you fetch him from?’
‘He lives in Manchester now.’
Unbelievably touched by the lengths he’d gone to, Lara said, ‘And here it is.’
‘And here it is.’ Flynn nodded in agreement. ‘Your final present.’ He gazed up at the spreading web of branches overhead, fifty feet high and every bit as wide. ‘Sorry I didn’t wrap it for you.’
‘That’s OK. It’s the best present I’ve ever had.’ Lara pulled him to her and kissed him. ‘I definitely won’t be taking this one back to the shop.’
‘You won’t be returning me either.’ His mouth as warm as his hands, Flynn smiled as he murmured, ‘You’re stuck with me now. For good.’
‘At last! Honestly, I don’t know what took you so long,’ said Lara.