by Jill Mansell
Gilbert maintained a perma-grin for the benefit of the assembled press but spoke through gritted teeth.
‘You’ve caused us so much trouble,’ he hissed at Maggie. ‘We could still sue, you know. Or have you arrested and charged with false imprisonment.’
‘Except Dino wasn’t held here against his will.’ Maggie smiled blandly at him.
‘I enjoyed every minute,’ Dino put in cheerfully.
Maggie hoped he wouldn’t find himself sacked by midday.
‘Never try anything like this again,’ Gilbert muttered as he swept past her out of the cottage. ‘Right, let’s get out of here. Back to civilization.’
The girl from Radio Bristol touched Maggie’s arm. ‘Are you ready?’
A car was waiting to whisk her away to the BBC studios for the first in a series of live link-ups.
‘Just a second.’ Maggie paused, then turned and gave Dino a hug. ‘Thanks for everything.’
His eyes crinkling, he murmured, ‘Thanks for almost everything. Maybe I’ll bump into you again some time.’
‘Who knows?’ Maggie smiled and wiped a streak of sticky pink from his cheek. She’d never get used to wearing lipstick.
‘I install dishwashers as well,’ said Dino.
‘Now that’s a coincidence,’ Maggie said gravely, ‘because I was thinking of getting myself one of those.’
***
Brenda, Daisy’s secretary, brought a pile of correspondence into the office for signing.
‘I’ve just been talking to Pam, out on reception.’ She frowned as she put the letters on Daisy’s desk. ‘And she said the oddest thing.’
‘Hmm?’ Daisy had just remembered she hadn’t yet told Hector about the Clarissa-kicking incident. Absently, she looked up. As far as she was aware, Pam quite often said odd things.
‘I bumped into Mr Tyzack this morning,’ Brenda explained. ‘And I asked him how the decorators were getting on with his house. He said they’d nearly finished and that they were doing a great job.’
‘And?’ Daisy was yet to be enthralled.
‘Well, my daughter’s looking for a decorator to do her dining room, so I asked Mr Tyzack which company he was using, and he didn’t know! I mean, he said he couldn’t remember the name offhand, but don’t you think that’s a bit strange?’ Brenda looked perplexed. ‘A man like him, you’d think he’d know who was decorating his house.’
Daisy nodded cautiously, wondering where this was heading. ‘So then what?’
‘Well, his phone rang and he had to rush off. But when I mentioned it just now to Pam, she came up with this strange idea. She said maybe Mr Tyzack couldn’t think of the name of the decorators because there are no decorators!’
Daisy rubbed her forehead; she had spent the last three hours embroiled in paperwork. ‘I don’t get it. You mean Dev’s doing up the house himself?’
Brenda shook her head vigorously. ‘No, no, goodness me no!’ Clearly this was a preposterous suggestion. ‘Pam reckons there isn’t anything needing to be done to the house because it was never flooded in the first place. She thinks he just used that as an excuse to move in here for a few weeks. D’you think that could really be true?’
Daisy thought it was the maddest idea she’d ever heard. Having read far too many spy thrillers under the reception desk, Pam evidently now fancied herself as Miss Moneypenny.
Aloud she said, ‘Why would he want to do that?’
‘Well, Pam thinks it’s because he’s after something. Or someone. And I bet you could find out, if you asked him nicely.’ Brenda gave her a significant look, the kind that was practically a nudge and a wink and a dig in the ribs. ‘Pam and I’ve both noticed.’
‘Noticed what?’ Daisy’s throat was suddenly dry.
‘Dev Tyzack,’ Brenda twinkled. ‘Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed. He’s definitely got a soft spot for you.’
***
Lust, great foaming waves of the stuff, had Tara in its grip. Her hormones were being driven wild. It was all very well boldly declaring that no, you weren’t going to have sex with someone, but not so easy to follow through when you found yourself subjected to this degree of provocation.
Two hours of hill starts, reversing round corners, and adrenaline-pumping emergency stops had resulted in something of a biological emergency of her own. It was entirely Josh’s fault—she’d never realized before now that being given a driving lesson could be so erotic. The husky way he said ‘Easy on the throttle now’ had become an incredible turn-on. The rip in the knee of his jeans was provoking her too; blonde hairs were poking outrageously through the frayed gap and his leg was only inches from her left hand. Oh God, she so badly wanted to tear off those jeans and—
‘Hey, look who’s on the radio!’ Josh, who had been fiddling with the dial, stopped as he recognized Maggie’s voice.
‘…all I can say is, it worked for me!’
‘And I have to tell our listeners, you’re looking wonderful for it,’ Maggie’s interviewer said warmly. ‘This is Penny Macey, on Radio Bristol, and we have Maggie Donovan, positively glowing with triumph, here in our studios.’
‘Next right,’ ordered Josh as they approached a junction. ‘We’ll head into Chippenham. Why’s Maggie sounding so posh all of a sudden?’
‘It’s her telephone voice. She always does that when she’s nervous.’
‘She doesn’t sound nervous—hey, I said right.’
‘I know you did.’ Smiling to herself, Tara turned left.
***
The High Street was noticeably quieter now than when they’d left it.
‘Everyone’s gone,’ Tara observed as she drove slowly past her home. Leaving Josh’s car in the hotel car park, they walked back down to the cottage.
In the kitchen, the new washing machine had ended its cycle.
‘I don’t know why we’re here,’ said Josh. ‘We could have got an extra couple of hours’ practice in.’
‘I’ve done enough driving.’ Tara was feeling deliciously wanton and subversive. ‘I want to practice something else now.’
‘Like what? Golf?’
‘Something much more fun than golf.’ Her eyes danced as she moved towards him.
‘Wash your mouth out. There aren’t many things more fun than golf. In fact,’ Josh hesitated, pretending to concentrate, ‘I can only think of one.’
‘What a coincidence. That’s the very same one I’m thinking of.’
‘Skiing?’ Josh raised his eyebrows. ‘I say, excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?’
‘It’s a complicated technical maneuver. Called unbuttoning your jeans.’
‘But—’
‘We’re all alone,’ said Tara. ‘Maggie’s out of the way, broadcasting live from Radio Bristol.’ She paused. ‘And we’re going upstairs.’
‘Now steady on. I thought you were meant to be proving to me that you weren’t a trollopy, knicker-dropping tart.’
As he spoke, Josh was lightly outlining the white star on the front of her pink top. Tara quivered with longing; who was seducing who here?
Or was it whom?
‘Let’s face it, we both know I’m a big trollopy tart. I’ve told you all about my dodgy past and it hasn’t put you off me. So basically, I think we’ve waited long enough.’
‘Phew, hooray for that.’ With a wicked grin, Josh hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of her white jeans and pulled her against him. ‘I think I like this idea a lot.’
Tara gave a little wiggle against his hips. ‘Guess what? I can tell.’
‘I’m very much looking forward to seeing your room.’
‘I can’t wait to show it to you.’
Josh exhaled slowly. ‘How long, d’you think, before Maggie gets back?’
As she kissed him, Tara skillfully unfastened the final button on his
jeans—oh yes, there were definite advantages to being a trollop.
‘Don’t worry about Maggie. She’ll be gone for hours.’
Chapter 58
Hector had been loitering at the far end of the High Street for some time. The moment the taxi came into view, he knew it was Maggie and his shoulders involuntarily straightened. Right, this was it. The moment of truth. He was either about to make the most monumental pillock of himself or…
Never mind that. She was back and he had to see her. The taxi pulled up outside the cottage, Maggie stepped out and Hector’s heart turned over. If he was honest, he’d spent the last two years being a pillock—it had just taken him until now to figure it out.
‘Maggie,’ he shouted as she searched in her bag for the front door key. The taxi drove off and she looked up at him, sunglasses perched on her head keeping her tousled blonde hair off her face. Not tousled as in artfully-arranged-for-a-glossy-magazine. Maggie’s hair was naturally tousled because she never remembered to brush it.
‘Hector.’ Her manner was guarded; she was wondering why he was rushing over like this, accosting her in broad daylight in the street.
‘I need to see you.’ Hector ground to a halt six feet away from her. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to get back. We have to talk.’
‘About what?’
Unable to stop himself, Hector blurted out, ‘Did you sleep with him?’
Silence. Maggie stared at him, then at the small gaggle of camera-wielding tourists making their way past on the opposite side of the street.
‘Why?’ she managed at last. ‘What’s it got to do with you?’
‘It’s got everything to do with me! It matters.’
‘Sshh. Will you keep your voice down?’
‘I will not,’ Hector practically bawled. ‘I don’t care if the whole village hears me.’
Startled, Maggie turned and jammed her key into the front door. Hector might not care, but she certainly did. And how dare he insinuate that while it was fine for him to sleep with someone else, she shouldn’t be allowed to do the same?
‘You’d better come in.’ Pointedly she added, ‘Where’s Paula?’
‘I don’t know. Getting her nails done… I don’t care.’ Hector waved a dismissive arm in the direction of the hotel. When he’d last seen her, Paula had been awaiting a visit from some manicurist. As far as she was concerned, he was playing golf this afternoon. ‘Where are you going?’ he demanded now. ‘I said we need to talk.’
‘Just checking the machine.’ Maggie had headed on through to the kitchen. He watched as she opened the front of the washer-dryer, pulled out a white lamb’s wool sweater, and lovingly ran her hands over its pristine softness.
‘Look at that,’ she marveled.
‘Put it down.’ Hector was on the verge of losing his patience. ‘None of this would ever have happened if you’d let me buy you a new machine when I offered.’
Maggie carefully hung the sweater over the back of a chair. ‘Why are you being like this?’
‘Because I love you,’ Hector bellowed in exasperation. ‘I love you, and I can’t stand to think of you being with that man!’
Maggie stared at him. ‘Is this a joke?’
‘Do I look as if I’m joking? Maggie, you have to know the truth. For some time now, this arrangement of ours… God, I’ve hated it. Not the sex,’ Hector hastily amended. ‘Of course I didn’t hate the sex. But paying for it… well, it just made me feel…’
‘Hector—’
‘No, let me finish. I wanted more,’ he said urgently. ‘I realized I had feelings for you, but I also knew you were only doing it for the money. If I didn’t pay you, you wouldn’t sleep with me anymore. And I couldn’t give you up, I just couldn’t.’ Hector shook his head. ‘I looked forward to seeing you more than you’ll ever know. I used to count the hours—’
‘Until Paula came along,’ Maggie said unsteadily. Had he really counted the hours?
‘I wanted a proper relationship, one that was open and above board. Is that too much to ask?’ Hector’s eyes registered despair. ‘It’s no good, though. I realize that now. Paula isn’t the one for me. She’s not my kind of woman.’ He waited, then said flatly, ‘You are.’
‘Is this really happening?’ Maggie was in a daze.
‘It’s really happening. I’m telling you how I feel,’ said Hector. ‘Of course the rest’s up to you. I’m putting myself well and truly on the line here. All I know is that you like me enough to sleep with me for money. But I don’t want to be your… client anymore. I want to see you properly. So, do you think you could handle that, or am I making a complete idiot of myself here?’ He shuddered and straightened his shirt collar. ‘If I am, just tell me. I can handle it.’
‘Oh!’ For the first time in a long time, Maggie was lost for words. She knew she should be interrupting by now, putting him out of his misery, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. What if she’d somehow misunderstood him? What if her brain was sneakily willing her to believe he was saying what she thought he’d just said?
‘Right,’ Hector announced, quite masterfully under the circumstances. ‘I’ve said my piece. Now it’s your turn.’
‘I-I…’ God, I’m hopeless.
‘Yes? Or no?’ His tone was terse.
Panicked, Maggie squeaked, ‘Yes!’ before he could walk out on her. Then, clutching her sunglasses, she stammered, ‘Wh-what have I just agreed to?’
‘You and me.’ Hector risked a half-smile. ‘Giving it a go. Without money changing hands. Are you sure you’re OK with that?’
Maggie swallowed. ‘Yes.’ It came out less frantically this time.
Encouraged, Hector took a step towards her. ‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘And I’m finishing with Paula tonight. Is that OK with you?’
What a question.
‘Yes,’ whispered Maggie.
‘I’ve already told you I love you. But this thing with whatsisname, the repairman. Will you promise me you won’t see him again?’
‘There is no thing. There never was any thing.’ Unbelievably touched by the fact that he had been jealous, Maggie had to clear her throat at this point. Reaching out to him she reiterated, ‘Nothing happened. He slept on the sofa.’
Relief was etched on Hector’s lined face as clearly as if she’d scribbled all over it with felt-tip.
‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly.’
‘I bet he wanted to.’
Maggie surveyed him with amusement. ‘Oh well, goes without saying, of course he wanted to.’ Under the circumstances, she felt a trace of smugness was allowed.
‘Who wouldn’t?’ Hector’s voice softened, his hand moving up to stroke her hair. ‘You’re a beautiful woman.’
‘But I turned him down,’ said Maggie.
‘Why?’
‘Because he wasn’t you.’
Hector’s arms folded round her. His kiss felt like coming home. Finally Maggie pulled away, just a fraction.
‘I never wanted your money.’ She blinked back tears of joy. ‘I only took it so you’d carry on coming to see me.’
Hector kissed her again, hard. Gruffly he said, ‘We’ve been a couple of idiots.’
‘Look on the bright side.’ Maggie broke into a smile. ‘We’ve got some catching up to do.’
‘Excellent thought. And no time like the present,’ murmured Hector.
‘But what about Tara? She could be back any time now.’
Hector shook his head and grinned at her. ‘Who cares?’
***
‘Oh shit,’ Tara hissed, torn between horror and delight. ‘They’re coming upstairs!’
‘This is fantastic,’ whispered Josh, behind her in the bedroom doorway. ‘It’s going to be like This Is Your Life.’
He was shaking
with silent laughter. Typical man. Tara turned and gave him a thump. In return, he shoved her out onto the tiny landing.
‘Oof,’ gasped Tara, bouncing off the opposite wall.
‘Oh, good grief,’ she heard Maggie shriek from halfway up the stairs. ‘What was that?’
Ah well, here goes…
‘Don’t panic,’ Tara hastily assured them. ‘It’s only me. Well,’ she amended, grabbing Josh’s arm and yanking him out onto the landing with her, ‘it’s only us.’
The next moment Maggie, closely followed by Hector, came into view.
‘I don’t believe this.’ Maggie’s hands flew to her mouth in horror. ‘Have you two been up here all this time?’
‘Well, I’m not Peter Pan.’ Tara gave her a pitying look. ‘I didn’t fly in through the bedroom window.’
‘And I’m not Tinkerbell,’ added Josh.
Maggie was cyclamen-pink. Mortified, she gasped, ‘Were you… um, listening to us?’
‘I wasn’t,’ said Josh. ‘I had my fingers in my ears. But Tara was,’ he went on helpfully, wincing as she whacked him again.
‘We weren’t trying to listen,’ Tara protested. ‘It was impossible not to. You weren’t exactly keeping your voices down.’
Maggie said faintly, ‘So you heard everything.’
‘Pretty much.’ Tara was still having a hard time believing what they had heard. She was stunned. Imagine, Maggie and Hector…
Maggie and Hector, for crying out loud!
But amazingly, whereas the thought of Maggie and Dino spending last night together and getting intimate had outraged her, this even more astounding scenario wasn’t unsettling her at all. Despite the fact that she was obviously still in shock, Tara realized she could handle this quite easily. There was even a touch of admiration in there somewhere.
Looking helpless, Maggie said, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Bloody hell, what is going on here?’ Hector exploded. ‘You are not sorry, OK? Neither of us is sorry. In fact we’re very, very happy, and nothing you or anyone else says is going to change that.’
All this time, Tara marveled. Honestly, it just went to show you couldn’t trust anyone, not even a spinsterish middle-aged cushion-making aunt.