by Wells, J
“Alright, Faye!” Ruben jumped, caught off guard. “We were just, err ... checking the rooms. Heather’s idea,” he mumbled, only briefly meeting her eyes.
Heather laughed to herself, as she knew her mum knew exactly what they had in mind.
Heather’s face reddened slightly. Smiling at them both in turn, Faye hurried along the landing to where the next room lay in wait. The moment was gone.
“Later, eh?” Ruben smiled, and with fingers linked, they walked back down the staircase.
Wandering round aimlessly seemed pointless. She couldn’t do a lot, and just kept bumping into people wishing her a string of happy birthdays, her face beginning to ache from the constant smiling. At least the annex was quiet, giving her chance to shower and change in peace. The dress she’d chosen for the day was one she hadn’t worn before, having ordered it from her mother’s catalogue. It wasn’t often she found anything she liked, but this particular floral lemon dress had caught her eye, and she kept returning to the page. Running her fingers over the soft silky material, she held it up to the light admiringly, before hanging it from the door of her wardrobe next to the ivory taffeta gown in readiness for the evening. Leaving her en suite door open, enabling her to listen to her music, she stepped under the shower’s cascading waters and contemplated the day ahead.
Drying her hair, she decided on a high ponytail, thinking it would look rather sophisticated if she was called up for photographs. Then she’d let it loose, and herself she thought, but that would be later, much later. Lost in her thoughts, she hardly heard her mum’s knock and the door opening.
“Heather, your father wants you. The press have arrived, and there’s quite a gathering already.”
“Okay, Mum, coming,” she replied.
Heather felt a tinge of sadness, picturing herself waving goodbye to the life she’d known and today would be leaving behind. She really was a country girl, and her mind was filled for an instant with reflective memories. Selfish though it may be, she hated the thought of change.
With a final look in the mirror to check her hair and make-up, not forgetting the dress, she was happy. Wearing the painted smile expected of her, she left her room.
The mayor, the Right Honourable Mr Randolph, had already arrived; she knew it was him by the cumbersome chain of office he wore around his neck. He was standing not far from the main entrance, wearing a grey suit, chatting to her father and two other men she didn’t recognise. The cameras were already positioned, and she looked up the driveway at the procession of cars and coaches piling in. Heather couldn’t miss Sami and Edison in their florescent orange jackets; the manor’s very own car park attendants, she thought. Heather watched for a while. The driveway leading to the manor’s steps was heaving as people vied for the best position behind the press and cameras.
As the mayor stood before the microphone, his speech began. Mainly he talked about the historical background of Lushcombe and its surrounding areas, the importance the manor and its residents had played in years gone by, and how long it had stood in their midst, empty and in need of the TLC that had now been provided by the Richardsons.
“I am so very proud that, due to Walter and his family,” he continued, beckoning her father towards him, “Lushcombe is now to be pulled from the darkness and be made a tourist destination, which in time will bring in both work and money, beneficial to all our local people.”
Applause rose from the crowd, and the mayor paused briefly, allowing time for Heather, her mum, sister and niece to join them. Walter, on locating Ruben, beckoned him forwards for photos. Ruben held Heather’s hand, and there they all stood as one very proud and happy family, both Heather and her mum shedding the odd tear. This was the day that all their hard work had led up to, the grand opening of Freesdon Manor.
“Today is a great time for celebration; we are finally able to put Lushcombe back on the map.”
The mayor’s speech came to an end, followed shortly by the cutting of the ribbon. The doors of the manor opened, and with champagne-filled trays and the formalities over, the celebrations got underway.
The wine shop needed Ruben, and he was called away from the gardens, leaving Heather alone to mingle, giving her the chance to get better acquainted with some of the locals. She discovered that a few of the older ones were real characters. She also stopped for the odd interview with reporters and journalists from local papers and magazines. The sun shone down on the festivities and everybody appeared to be having a wonderful time, especially the parties of school children. Even though the school holidays were still upon them, it was far too prestigious an occasion to miss; an event to go down in Lushcombe’s history. They all made the most of the stalls and rides, after their guided tour around the manor. Ruben managed to take a short break, leaving the wine shop in the capable hands of his under manager, and joined Heather and her family for a mid-afternoon barbeque by the lake. They sat on the grass, watching Dannika, who seemed to love the swan boats, looking so regal as she floated past, and with it the hours.
It must have been around five o’clock when the final visitors left, disappearing down the driveway, and once again the car park and grounds stood empty. The four walls of Heather’s bedroom felt so inviting, and she sighed as she closed the door, leaving the commotion of her family behind for a short while. She wanted to look nice for Ruben this evening and make a special effort, like he was making for her. She sat at her dressing table and ran the brush through her hair; the kink from her ponytail was still visible, so she decided to use her straighteners. Her make-up and the dress were perfect. She could hardly wait to show it off, and for Ruben to show her off.
Taking a second glance in the mirror, she turned one way and then the other, smiling at her reflection; the ivory gown was stunning. As pretty as a picture, she stood like a beautiful ballerina. It was the perfect day, and would hopefully be followed by the perfect evening. This would be a new start for Heather Richardson. Closing the door on her past life and memories, she left the annex in search of Ruben.
Chapter Fifteen
The Final Chapter
Heather walked into the gardens, and sensed excitement in the air. The sounds of RnB drowned out the voices, the evening’s agenda alfresco dining. Decorative tables were randomly dotted around, and the conservatory doors were wide open, from which drinks and cocktails were being served. Favours, confetti and weighted balloons decorated the tables, with the words ‘Happy Birthday’ or ‘18’ imprinted. The guests were already mingling with the staff and their families.
Beth, wearing a green maxi dress, sat chatting with Ruben and his mum. His eyes lit up on seeing Heather, and he stood, holding her gaze while slowly walking towards her, Beth now no more than an afterthought. God he looks sexy, Heather thought, her heart racing, feeling like she was on fire. She’d never seen him quite the way she was seeing him now. In a black open-neck silk shirt, which accentuated his waist while defining his shoulders, and tailored trousers, her eyes were drawn to places they perhaps shouldn’t have been. He never spoke, and just led her onto the dance floor, the mood changing as they opened the evening with the first dance. She rested her head against his chest, feeling his fingers caressing her shoulders and on down her back. Tingling inside, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept away by the beat and soft melody.
“I’m so glad you wore the dress, you look beautiful, and I’m the lucky man who’ll be taking it off you later,” he whispered.
Heather blushed at his words, but secretly she wanted him to. She needed that closeness, the warmth of his body, but mostly she wanted to feel loved.
They left the dance floor and entered the conservatory, which was filled with food, and a collage of photos of Heather from birth upwards.
“Trust Mum and Dad,” she laughed.
They both looked more than proud as she entered, and before reaching the buffet she was passed by her dad’s hurried steps. The microphone echoed a booming voice, and the party gathered in anticipation. Ruben s
miled, and Heather followed him back outside towards the DJ box.
Her father began. “I’m...” He paused, correcting himself. “I should say me and your mother are so proud to be able to call you our daughter. It seemed not so long ago you were eighteen months old, our little girl, all hugs and kisses, who needed us her every waking moment. Now you’ve blossomed, your eighteen months have become eighteen years, and from our sweet little girl, all ribbons and curls, you have become our beautiful young lady. Heather...” His voice quivered, and she could hear and feel his emotion. “However many years and birthdays pass, you’ll always be Daddy’s little girl.”
Throwing her arms around his neck, bringing back memories of the good old days, Heather said, “I love you, Dad.”
Her eyes were hazy from crying, and her mum’s tears intermingled with her own as she walked over to join them. In gaining her adulthood, she felt she was losing her parents in some small way.
“Well, speech over, Heather,” her dad said, clearing his throat. “I’ve got one final thing left to do,” he said, handing her a small box. “From me and your mum.” He winked. “We pick her up tomorrow.”
A confused Heather lifted the lid and saw a key to a car.
“Wow! Thanks, Dad, Mum! What is it?”
“A red Mercedes convertible. She’s a beauty, with your own personalised number plates,” her dad said.
Passing the microphone to Ruben, Walter sat down.
“It’s taken a while, but we’ve finally got here, eh, Heather? Happy birthday, darling,” he said.
With that, he slipped his hand into the back pocket of his trousers and passed Heather an envelope. She ripped it open impatiently. Spending Christmas in New York had always been her dream, and now she held two tickets in her hands.
“Thank you, Ruben, thank you so much!”
“I haven’t finished there; I’m taking you to see the world.”
He lifted Heather off the ground and swung her around in his arms.
Briefly she caught sight of Beth and her uneasy expression; she had a flashback to her words: ‘Money may be Ruben’s God, but it’s not mine.’ Then just as quickly, it was forgotten.
“The fireworks start at eleven; meet me in the bedroom,” he whispered.
She watched, hardly able to take her eyes off him as he walked into the conservatory, rejoining his mum and Beth carrying a rainbow of iced cocktails served on a tray. With the light fading and the arrival of dusk, Heather threw herself into the next couple of dances with Amy and Dannika, making the most of her sister’s company; she knew only too well that she’d be back with her husband in a couple of weeks, and who knows how long it would be until they met up again. Knowing her sister, it’d probably be Dannika’s eighteenth. While she was lost in the dance, Ruben slipped away unnoticed.
The partying continued as darkness crept in, an abundance of multi-coloured fairy lights dancing in the breeze. The bedroom and Ruben lay in wait; there was no hesitation on Heather’s part, for tonight she knew where she wanted to be. The crackling open flame torches created a lighted walkway that led her back towards the manor. The door creaked in welcome as she walked into the hallway, where empty tables lay. Flickering candlelight brightened the stairway. Somehow she could never bring herself to feel at ease as she climbed, each step bringing back memories that needed to be left in the past. She didn’t dare glance at the portrait, though the clock’s chime was unmistakable, and with it the triumphant sound of fireworks gracing the night sky. The bedroom door was closed, but Heather knew what awaited her, wondering if it boded well.
The room was much the same as usual. Ruben’s handsome silhouette turned towards her from the open window, beckoning her to him for a private light show of fireworks. Heather leant forwards, her elbows resting on the sill; a meeting of warm breaths. With no impairment of view, she felt his arms around her waist as vivid colours played in the darkening clouds in an explosion of kaleidoscopic patterns. Ruben brushed her hair from behind her ears.
“I want you, Heather,” he whispered. “No, it’s more than that. Look on the bed.”
The shape of a pink heart was made from the sweetest of rose petals, inside which lay a small box, the shadows concealing its identity.
“I’ve saved my special present for you, away from prying eyes,” he said, his voice low. “These last few minutes before your birthday passes are precious moments that I’ll never let you forget.”
His hand reached into the middle of the bed, removing the box.
“I want you to be mine, forever.” He knelt and took Heather’s hand, lifting the lid.
“This is for you, darling.”
She looked down, feeling an awkward tension throughout her body. How could she commit her life to somebody to whom she wasn’t committed? Yes she knew she felt something, which eventually may grow stronger, but as to what, and how deep, she needed time. As she stood in thought, Ruben’s eyes searched hers for an answer.
“Is something wrong?” He frowned, surprised by her non-committal response. “I’ve done everything right,” he insisted. She could hear the sincerity in his voice followed by disappointment. “I asked ya dad, got his permission this morning in the wine shop.”
She couldn’t fault his efforts on this occasion, and yes, he may have done everything right, yet as she stood looking into his eyes, everything felt so very wrong. Knowing decisions made in haste often led to regret, her thoughts drifted back to Frank’s proposal.
“Ruben, I wasn’t expecting this, it’s come as such a shock.”
“My instinct was to wait for Christmas,” Ruben added, explaining himself, “our flight out to New York. I know you love romance, and what could possibly have been more romantic than an engagement on the other side of the world? But I so wanted to make tonight, your night, extra special and show you how very much you mean to me, and four months seemed so far away.” He continued, “I know you’ve worn it once before, but this time it’s for keeps.”
She leant down towards him. “I can’t give you an answer, not now. I do love you, but what you’re asking of me is a commitment for life. I just need time.”
“Fine, take as long as you need,” Ruben said, standing, awkwardly closing the lid on the box.
Heather sighed, thankful for his understanding, knowing she’d need weeks, maybe longer, to reach her decision.
“I’ll be here waiting for you, waiting for you to come back with your answer.”
He lay back on the bed, his eyes like the hands of a ticking clock. She gulped and took a deep breath, for she knew he wanted her answer later that night.
She’d never wanted to escape from anywhere quite as fast as she closed the door behind her, and felt stifled by the pressure he bestowed on her. The only place she knew she could think and clear her head was the lake. Nature’s friend, who only listened and never questioned, and had always been there.
Outside, she was met by the scent of gunpowder, the fireworks’ way of leaving their calling card. She re-entered the garden; the background music was still playing, though the party had died down considerably. She couldn’t be doing with people, not now, so bypassing any remnants of her eighteenth, she headed to the tranquil cool waters. Cossetted between the long grasses, she lay down, the full moon looking as lost and lonely in the sky as she herself felt.
“Oh, Florence, if only you were here. You were such a lovely sister, and I know you’d have known what to do. I can’t marry him, I just can’t,” she blurted out loud.
Tonight had brought with it a cold realisation that whatever Ruben did, however long he shared her life, he could and would never compare, not even to the ghost of Frank’s memory. And she wondered if her forever could really be spent with second best, when what she really yearned for more than anything was the fairytale, and now more than ever.
Her eyelids felt heavy, and closing them on the world she lay contemplating her life, trying so hard to envision her future with Ruben in it, playing the leading part. However, no matter
how many acts or scenarios she imagined him in, she just couldn’t see there being a happy ending, and the only person she was really fooling was herself. The ring came to mind and she smiled, though the smile that took to her lips was bittersweet. The ring would never be a band of love, only a band of control, not only tightening around her finger but around her life. There was something compelling her to return, over and over again, but she couldn’t make any more excuses for him.
Her youth and vulnerability brushed away, her eyes had finally opened for the first time, and she was looking at Ruben critically through a woman’s eyes. Heather sat lost in unsettling thoughts, of how easily she’d been sucked in to his manly charms and the whirlwind of romance. All Ruben had ever been to her was an escape from the lonely existence she had led. When he walked into her life she was at an all-time low and needed somebody, and he just happened to be there. Untimely maybe, but it worked for a while; it had taken till now, though, for her to see clearly, and now Heather was suddenly hit by the sobering realisation that being single, on her own, really was the better of the two evils. And yes, she would take her sister up on her offer of a holiday away from Ruben and Freesdon Manor, for Heather knew it was the break she needed.
A hand touched her shoulder, and her heart beat erratically. He couldn’t even allow her that small privilege of time, she thought. Though in her heart it really didn’t matter, for she knew what she had to do. Ruben’s ring was never meant for her finger.
“Ruben...”
“I am afraid not.”
It couldn’t be... She opened her eyes.
“Frank!”
Her words were lost against his chest. She’d never longed for anything as much as to feel herself in his arms again, and yet here she was. Her tears were of happiness and relief.
“God, Frankie, I don’t know where to start,” Heather rambled. “Where have you been? I’m so sorry, I never meant to turn you down; I was thinking of the inheritance, Florence and...”