Jill Mansell Boxed Set

by Jill Mansell

  ‘And Zillah was your grandmother?’ Hester was enthralled.

  ‘She still is. That was fifty-six years ago and theirs is the happiest marriage I know. In fact,’ Lucas said dryly, ‘they’re entirely to blame for the fact that I’m still single. I vowed years ago that until I felt like that about somebody, I wouldn’t get married. And here I am,’ he shrugged, ‘still trawling my way through the female population in search of the perfect wife. Ah well, it’s a tough job but somebody has to do it.’

  Hester’s eyes were bright. ‘It’s like one of those old black and white films, so romantic it makes you want to cry. Lucas, that is a fantastic story.’

  Certainly is, thought Lucas. It’d be even more fantastic if it was true.

  Glancing at Hugh, who was sliding a CD back into its sleeve, he announced, ‘Films that make you cry are strictly a girl thing. Give me a decent thriller any day. Now, you haven’t even seen over the rest of the place yet. Why don’t we give you the guided tour?’

  Hugh couldn’t believe he was about to do what he was about to do. After visiting Kemp’s restaurant yesterday evening, he had been seized by a compulsion to rush straight over to Millie’s house and tell her how he felt about her. Just turn up and blurt it all out.

  But common sense had taken him to one side and warned him that this was something he needed to think through. Very thoroughly indeed. Common sense had also told him that Lucas Kemp hadn’t been entirely truthful with them; Hester might have fallen for it, but Hugh suspected the majority of the touching story they’d been told was pure fiction.

  Nevertheless, he was grateful. It had taken him long enough to arrive at the same conclusion. It was nice to know that Lucas agreed, and approved.

  But this time, Hugh knew he had to be absolutely sure he was doing the right thing. As a result, he had spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning, examining his conscience, playing over and over in his mind the events of the past months, planning what he would say to Millie should he decide to do it. At least he’d overcome the fear that lightning could strike twice. Before, he had been determined never to fall in love again because the prospect of losing someone else would be too much to bear. But as time had passed, he’d realized this was no way to live. There was an element of risk—however small—in everything. You just had to accept that and get on with it. Besides, it was no longer an issue because he simply couldn’t imagine life without Millie…

  At six o’clock in the morning he had finally fallen asleep. In fact, he had slept until four o’clock in the afternoon, which was one of the advantages of being self-employed, but bad news for those clients waiting for him to come up with the work they were paying him to do.

  By five-thirty Hugh’s mind was made up. Irrevocably. This was it. No going back. Lucas had been right; when it happened, it happened. You couldn’t risk losing something this important. Even if the thought of doing it—and possibly being rejected—was scarier than he had imagined possible.

  And now it was six-thirty and he was actually here, turning into the road where Millie lived. Pulling up outside Millie’s house.

  Switching off the engine, Hugh observed his hands shaking. This was definitely scary. Worse than sitting finals. Worse than preparing to bungee jump off a tower block. Worse than… well, pretty much anything.

  Feeling sick, he checked his appearance in the rearview mirror. Jesus, just like a girl. Still, it gave him something to do. And this was one of those moments that could only be improved by the knowledge that you didn’t have a bit of spinach caught between your front teeth.

  Okay. Hair, same as ever.

  Face, still there.

  Teeth, no spinach. Which wasn’t altogether surprising, seeing as he never ate the filthy stuff.

  Aftershave, yes.

  Too much aftershave? Hope not.

  Deep breath.

  Another deep breath.

  All this gearing himself up, and Millie might not even be at home.

  But she was, he knew she was. There, parked just across the street, was her lime green Mini with its almost-expired tax disc and a jaunty pink sun hat perched on the back shelf.

  Right. You can either sit here all evening like a complete dick-head or get on with it.

  Hugh opened the car and stepped out on to the dusty pavement.

  Remember the last time you were here, standing outside Millie’s front door, wanting more than anything to kiss her and telling yourself you mustn’t?

  Well, now he knew he must.

  Raising his hand, he knocked on the door.

  Moments later, the door swung open.

  Millie was wearing her gorilla suit; she must be on her way out to a job. Hugh realized that he was glad; saying what he had to say to a girl dressed as a gorilla might be unconventional, but not being able to see the expression on her face actually made it easier.

  Not easy. But easier. Just a bit.

  ‘Okay, let me just say this.’ Hugh held up his hands because Millie was breaking into a little dance and this was the kind of distraction he didn’t need.

  Obediently she stopped and tilted her head inquiringly to one side.

  Here we go.

  ‘Right then. The thing is, I’ve been a complete idiot. I panicked after that night when we… you know. I panicked because I realized how I felt about you and that wasn’t supposed to happen. I knew I couldn’t let it happen. I’ve treated you so badly and I didn’t mean to… dammit, you wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve rehearsed this, and it’s coming out all wrong.’ Hugh shook his head, sweat prickling the back of his neck. ‘Look, I just want to say sorry for everything and… I love you. I mean, really love you. If you think you can forgive me for everything I’ve put you through, maybe we can try again. Properly, this time.’ Shit, this wasn’t easy at all. Raking back his hair, he concluded, ‘And if you can’t forgive me, please feel free to slam the door in my face.’

  There, he’d done it. Told a gorilla he loved her. It was all out in the open now. In her hands.

  Well, hairy paws.

  Filled with trepidation, Hugh watched as the paws went up to remove the gorilla’s head. There was a ripping sound as the velcro attaching it to the neck of the suit was wrenched apart.

  The head came off and he was greeted with a broad smile.

  ‘This is really great, and I can’t tell you how flattered I am,’ Hester said cheerfully, ‘but I’m actually very happy with Nat.’

  Chapter 54

  ‘You’d better come in,’ Hester said kindly. ‘Before you pass out on the pavement.’

  Having just crammed fifty years’ worth of mortification into five seconds, it occurred to Hugh that passing out on the pavement might be the most desirable option. Seeing as there was no sign of a big hole conveniently opening up.

  But since passing out clearly wasn’t going to happen either, he followed Hester into the living room.

  ‘Sit down.’ Solicitously, she patted the back of the sofa. ‘Now, can I get you something? Cup of tea, glass of nice cold lemonade?’ Fractional pause. ‘Great big bucket of Scotch?’

  Hester was struggling hard to keep a straight face. She was having the time of her life, Hugh realized, extracting maximum enjoyment from the situation.

  In other words, taking the piss. To be fair, he couldn’t blame her.

  ‘Come on, cheer up.’ Hester broke into a huge, irreverent grin. ‘In years to come, we’ll be able to laugh about this. Well, you will,’ she happily amended. ‘I’m laughing about it already.’

  All the buckets of Scotch in the world weren’t going to help him now.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’ Hugh gestured to her costume. ‘Why are you wearing Millie’s gorilla suit?’

  ‘I’m her stand-in. Millie had a job booked for tonight. She couldn’t make it, so she asked me to do it instead. Can I ask you a question now? How long has this thing between you and Millie been going on? And why haven’t I heard a word about it? And what did you do, exactly, that was so terrible
?’

  Hugh sighed. ‘That’s three questions.’

  ‘No problem. I don’t have to be at Polperro until eight, so we’ve got plenty of time.’ As she spoke, Hester unzipped the suit and wiggled out of it, brushed a few moulting nylon hairs from her Faith No More T-shirt, and plonked herself companionably down beside him on the sofa. ‘I was only trying it on to get the feel of it. When the doorbell went I thought I’d give Nat a surprise. Now, take a deep breath and relax.’ Her tone was soothing but her eyes danced with glee. ‘You’ll feel a million times better once you’ve told me everything, I promise.’

  Hugh ignored this blatant lie.

  ‘Where’s Millie?’

  ‘In the kitchen.’

  ‘What? ’

  ‘Only joking.’ Triumphantly, Hester mimicked his look of horror. ‘Up in London. Orla was invited to some big party. She didn’t want to go on her own, apparently, so she dragged Millie along with her.’

  ‘What kind of big party?’

  ‘God knows. Some kind of awards ceremony, I think Millie said. They’re staying up there for a couple of days, but she’ll definitely be back by Sunday lunchtime because she’s got a booking on Sunday afternoon. Anyway, that’s enough about that.’ In schoolmistressy fashion, Hester tapped his arm. ‘You still have some serious explaining to do. And what I especially want to know is when did all this start?’

  Hugh closed his eyes; he was in an impossible situation here. If he told Hester to mind her own business, she could spoil everything for him. With Millie away for the next three nights, she was bound to phone Hester from London at some stage. And Hester would take ghoulish delight in telling her what had happened here this evening.

  No, no, he couldn’t let that happen. He’d messed up enough of this relationship already. Okay, it might not literally be the end of the world if Hester spoke to Millie first, but after so much had gone wrong, it was important to at least get this part right.

  I should be the one to tell her, not Hester. Dammit, thought Hugh, I have to be the one to tell her.

  Shit, he needed to get Hester on his side. He was going to have to appeal to her better nature.

  If she had one.

  This was definitely one of life’s major dilemmas, Hugh decided. Like being confronted by a ravenous grizzly bear and wondering if throwing it one of your arms would be enough.

  ‘The night of Orla’s party,’ he finally admitted.

  ‘You’re kidding! And did you and Millie sleep together?’

  Oh now, this was outrageous. Ravenous grizzly bear or no grizzly bear, he wasn’t going to answer that question.

  Unfortunately, not answering told Hester all she needed to know.

  ‘You DID,’ she whooped, bouncing around on the sofa like a two-year-old. ‘You really did! So that’s why she said I needn’t pay her two hundred pounds for losing our Celibet. By the time I had sex with Lucas she’d already done it with you… and I thought she was being so nice, letting me off. Can you believe I actually thanked her? Honestly, that girl is a complete tart!’

  ‘It only happened once.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. A bet’s a bet.’

  ‘And then I panicked. Thinking of my wife. After Louisa died, I swore I’d never get involved with anyone again.’

  Hester stopped gloating and gave him a sympathetic look.

  ‘But that’s not realistic.’

  ‘I can see that now. But there are certain unwritten rules.’ Hugh shrugged. ‘Like yesterday at the restaurant when you got mad with Lucas, just because he asked me if I was involved with anyone else. You were outraged at the very idea, remember?’

  ‘I was mad with Lucas because I thought you’d be outraged by the idea!’ Hester exclaimed. ‘That’s not the same thing at all! Asking someone if they’ve met someone else yet when they haven’t is horrible. But there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it if they have.’

  ‘Well, I was pretty disgusted with myself.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought it was too soon. Disrespectful and all that. I dropped Millie like a hot potato, couldn’t even bring myself to explain why. And I tried my best to forget her. But I couldn’t. The feelings just refused to go away. Basically, the last couple of months have been pretty hellish.’

  ‘But you can’t help how you feel!’ Hester spoke with passion. ‘Some people lose their partners and it takes them twenty years to find someone else. And there are others who find someone in twenty weeks. I mean, look at—’

  ‘I know,’ Hugh interjected with a brief smile. ‘Lucas’s grandparents.’ He wasn’t going to be the one to tell her Lucas had more than likely made the whole story up.

  ‘Exactly. God, this is fantastic.’ Hester clasped her hands together in delight. ‘You and Millie. It’s perfect! Ooh, and she said she’d probably ring me tomorrow—just wait until she hears about this!’

  Shit.

  He’d ripped his own arm off for nothing. The grizzly bear was going to eat him alive after all.

  ‘No. No! ’ Hugh kept his voice level. ‘Hester, you mustn’t do that. This is between Millie and me. If she phones, you have to promise me you won’t breathe a word.’

  Hester’s face fell. He watched it happen, like a lift with severed cables plummeting to earth.

  ‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘Very serious indeed.’

  Finally, she managed a brave-little-soldier nod.

  ‘Of course. I understand. You’re absolutely right. I won’t tell Millie anything.’ She shook her head with such vigor her emerald green parrot earrings bounced off the sides of her neck. For added emphasis she mimed zipping her mouth shut.

  Her great big blabbermouth, Hugh reminded himself, wondering if it might not be simpler to superglue it shut.

  Illegal. But tempting.

  He gave it one last shot. ‘Do you promise?’

  In reply, Hester gave him her most trustworthy—in other words, not trustworthy at all—Cheshire-cat smile.

  ‘Absolutely. Definitely. You can rely on me, I promise.’

  Hugh wondered why he wasn’t reassured.

  The Royal Lancaster was the poshest hotel Millie had ever stayed at. Actually, apart from a dreary little boarding house masquerading as a hotel in Blackpool where she’d once spent a dirty weekend with an accountant called Kevin, it was the only hotel she’d ever stayed at. And it was turning out to be a completely thrilling experience. Hot water shot out of the taps at such a rate that she’d had two baths already. Her room was vast, six times the size of her bedroom at home. And the view over Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens was stunning.

  Feeling like a yokel up from the sticks—which, of course, she was—Millie pressed her nose to the window, marveling at the red double-decker buses trundling along the busy road below, as well as the sheer number of black cabs zipping past. It was so completely different from Cornwall. Apart from a few brief visits to her mother, she had never spent any real time here. Thanks to Adele, who regarded it as hopelessly common, she’d never even done any proper sightseeing.

  Well, it was about time she did.

  I might decide I love it enough to move here, thought Millie, feeling reckless. Maybe a change of scenery is just what I need.

  Because basically, now that Hester was settled with Nat, she was going to have to find somewhere else to live anyway. And apart from her job—which was, after all, only a job—there was precious little to keep her in Newquay. It wasn’t as if her father and Judy were likely to slip into a Victorian decline.

  Plus, moving away would hopefully take her mind off Hugh. Because, let’s face it, all this bumping into him and just-being-friends simply wasn’t working out. It was hard to cope with. Falling in love with someone who didn’t love you back was the pits. And if she stayed in Newquay, they would only keep bumping into each other.

  Whereas if she moved up here, she could get on with making a new life for herself. With a bit of luck, her memory would be wiped clean of him, like turning the wheel on an Etch-a-Sketch. In a couple of months, she mi
ght wake up one morning and think, Hugh? Hugh who?

  Ooh, look at that black cab doing a U-turn right in front of that truck! The taxi drivers in this city drove like demons, they just—

  ‘Millie, it’s me! Ready to go?’

  Millie raced barefoot across the pale carpet—so thick and springy it was like bouncing on a trampoline—and flung open the door.

  ‘My God!’ she exclaimed. ‘What happened? You look awful.’’

  Orla grinned, because she knew she didn’t. Her eyes sparkled, her pre-Raphaelite curls tumbled past her shoulders, and she was poured into a memorably low-cut dress of sea green shot-silk that shimmered every time she moved.

  ‘I know, I’m a complete disaster. They probably won’t let me in.’

  The message was clear. Orla was proving to the world that she was well and truly over Giles. Looking at her now, no one would doubt it. Millie had nothing but admiration for her.

  ‘Honestly, someone’s smoking in one of these rooms.’ Lifting her head like an outraged bloodhound, Orla sniffed the air and glared at the many doors lining the broad corridor. ‘It smells completely repulsive. People who smoke shouldn’t be allowed to stay in hotels—as soon as we get downstairs I’m going to report them to the manager!’

  Oh, and she was still off the cigarettes.

  ‘Not looking so bad yourself,’ Orla teased as they stepped into the lift. It was also the poshest lift Millie had ever been in in her life—to be fair, there weren’t many buildings with lifts in Newquay—but she didn’t mention this to Orla. There was such a thing as sounding too much like Crocodile Dundee.