Third Time Lucky

by Croft, Pippa

  ‘Well, we were going to have dinner at our hotel …’ my father says, slightly doubtfully. ‘We’re booked into the Churchill. Do you know it?’

  ‘Of course. Great choice but I won’t hear of you staying at a hotel tonight. I’ll have our house manager, Helen, make arrangements for you to stay in the guest suite.’

  ‘Alexander, we can’t inconvenience you like this,’ says my mother.

  ‘It’s not an inconvenience, it would be a pleasure. Please excuse me; I’ll be back shortly.’

  With the smile he reserves for melting the hearts of elderly ladies, waiting staff and his dog, he is on his way out of the room. I’m not sure whether to be pleased or horrified at the invitation he’s issued – or was it an order?

  Either way, my mother plumps back down on the sofa, looking slightly shell-shocked, while Daddy waits until we’re definitely alone to hold up his hands in a gesture of surrender and confusion.

  ‘I guess we’re staying here tonight then, Blythe.’

  ‘It looks like it,’ she agrees, smiling at me. ‘Look, Lauren, maybe we shouldn’t have sprung ourselves on you but we – wanted to surprise you.’

  ‘You’ve certainly done that,’ I splutter, realizing how really very pleased I am to see them.

  My father takes my hand between his again. ‘And how are you, honey?’

  ‘Good … I’m good …’ Don’t be too kind, I think to myself, feeling suddenly a little emotional. His worried face reminds me of how much I am loved.

  ‘Are you sure? We’ve been a little concerned about you,’ he probes, and I avoid eye contact, knowing I might cry if I look at him.

  ‘Why? I’ve been fine. When we spoke last week, you didn’t say anything about changing your plans.’

  My mother pipes up. ‘Daddy had some business in London. He’s been invited to the embassy by the ambassador and so we rescheduled our flights. We checked in to the hotel last night but we decided to come over and see you today.’

  ‘How did you find Falconbury?’

  My father laughs softly. ‘Sweetheart, how many Falconbury Houses do you think there are in England? The cab driver had no problem getting here and besides’ – he glances at my mother meaningfully – ‘your mother had already Googled it and been on the Debrett’s website.’

  ‘We didn’t realize Alexander came from quite such a smart family,’ my mother teases. ‘You kept that quiet.’

  Here we go. It’s started. ‘It didn’t seem relevant. It’s not why I like him; that stuff means nothing to me.’

  My parents exchange glances. ‘Of course, but it would have been nice to have been told a bit more. Lauren, it has a deer park.’

  ‘I know,’ I acknowledge, remembering how in awe of the place I was when I first came here. ‘The estate is run as a business, and they sell the venison. There are sheep too, and several farms …’ I say, fighting a mix of irritation and guilt. I can’t blame them for being shocked at Falconbury, especially as I only mentioned Alexander a few weeks ago. Perhaps it would have better to come clean a while ago but then I’d have had to share every moment of drama too and I just couldn’t have stood for that. It’s been painful enough, having to deal with the ups and downs of our relationship on my own, let alone having to cope with my family’s worries and opinions.

  ‘Lauren,’ my father says, so gently that my skin prickles with foreboding, ‘Alexander’s wealth isn’t what concerns us. Do you realize exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into here?’

  I frown, unsure of exactly what he means. ‘Now wait a minute, Daddy …’

  Alexander walks back in, smiling warmly. ‘There, it’s all arranged.’

  My mother glances at my father. ‘Um … I don’t think we have our bags.’

  ‘That’s no problem. I’ll have Brandon fetch them from your hotel.’

  My mother looks even more confused. ‘Brandon?’

  ‘My driver. Now, Helen will show you up to your rooms. Then we can have lunch and I can show you around the estate, if you’d like.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  While my mother and father are freshening up in the guest suite, Alexander and I get changed in his room. I open the drawer of the quaintly named ‘tallboy’ and pull out some fresh underwear, trying to take stock of what just happened.

  ‘Have you recovered yet?’ Alexander says with a wicked grin, emerging from the en suite, drying his chest with a towel.

  ‘What the hell are you trying to do to me? Inviting my parents to stay over!’

  He shrugs. ‘It’s only polite, and why are you so worried? How much had you told them about me?’

  ‘Nothing. I only recently told them you existed at all!’

  He throws the towel on the bed. ‘They seem perfectly at home here. I’m sure that the American embassy and the White House are considerably grander and more intimidating than here.’

  ‘You think? Besides, the President doesn’t actually own the White House and I’m not staying there!’

  Casually, he manages to pull on a fresh shirt. ‘And this is the woman who went ballistic when I didn’t invite her to Falconbury last year because she was worried I was ashamed of introducing her to my family.’

  ‘That’s different. I know now why you were so worried.’

  He raises an eyebrow. ‘I did warn you about my relations but yours seem perfectly reasonable.’

  ‘It’s my father’s job to seem reasonable.’

  He buttons up his shirt while talking to me. ‘And he – and your mother – are very good at it. Look, your parents are here now and I’m going to be polite and friendly to them. They may as well get to see that this place is really not as strange as they may think, if they’re thinking that at all. You underestimate them.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘I’m sure you do. Your father is a senator and you’ve told me your mother is a consummate hostess and diplomat combined. Let me have the chance to show them I’m perfectly normal and ordinary too.’

  He smiles benignly, which in itself is worrying. Normal? Ordinary? Alexander? I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him and since I can’t even lift him off his feet, that’s not saying much.

  He tucks his shirt into his trousers. ‘Perhaps,’ he says, flaming me with a look, ‘it might be helpful if you put some knickers on before we take them round the estate.’

  I think I must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Alexander is showing my parents his estate – or at least around the grounds next to the house. After lunch in the dining room, we’ve had a mini tour of Falconbury House, walked through the formal gardens, skirted the deer park and now he’s leading the way to the stables.

  I still have that strange sense of surreality, when you meet familiar people out of context. Having my parents here suddenly makes me take stock of my surroundings and of Alexander. Along with all the other students and Brits, I’ve become used to the way Alexander speaks, but with them here, his accent seems foreign and uber-English again – so aristocratic, for want of a better word. And the house – the sitting room is one of the cosiest rooms but there’s still art on the walls, antique furniture, a grand painting above the fireplace and high ceilings with ornate plasterwork. I’ve grown used to it without even noticing, yet now it’s like some stage set. OK, my parents are well-travelled, cultured people but they’re not at a civic function or touring a stately home; it’s my boyfriend’s place.

  Outside, the sun is out and the woods and hedgerows are thick with bluebells and wild garlic. It all seems idyllic. My mother has borrowed a pair of Emma’s Hunters and looks the part of the country lady. Daddy certainly seems relaxed enough even though I know he can find it a challenge to get around unfamiliar places after he lost most of the sight in one eye in an attack a few years ago.

  Even so, when we near the moat-like ha-ha that marks the edge of the park, I’m on the lookout for him but before I can even say anything, Alexander is by his side, pointing it out as a feature of the park.

  ‘Is that a ha-ha?’ my mother
asks. ‘There’s one in an Austen novel, isn’t there?’

  Alexander shades his eyes with his hand. ‘That’s right. It was built in the eighteenth century to keep the sheep and cattle out of the garden without interrupting the view from the house.’

  ‘So, how large is the estate in total?’ she asks. I cringe inwardly. Does my mother have any idea that she sounds like an Austen character?

  ‘Oh, I think the park is seven hundred acres, give or take, but there are some outlying farms too so maybe seven or eight thousand acres in total,’ says Alexander.

  My father gives a low whistle. ‘Sounds like a major enterprise. How do you manage to run it all, with your studies as well?’

  ‘I don’t.’ He smiles to try and take the sting out of the terseness of his reply. ‘I have a very competent and understanding team of staff who take care of all the day-to-day running of the estate for now, and make a much better job of it than I ever could.’

  ‘That’s good to hear, but you must still have to make the big decisions about the estate since losing your father. We’re very sorry for your loss, by the way.’

  Normally, Alexander finds condolences embarrassing, but my father makes them in a simple but sincere way that I know Alexander won’t object to.

  ‘Thank you, and you’re right, I have had to spend a lot of time away from Oxford over the past term and it’s made things rather tricky at times, but I’ve had to get on with it.’

  Rather tricky at times? I allow myself a little smile at his understatement.

  ‘Lauren told us about your accident too …’ my mother says gently.

  Alexander holds up his arm. ‘Oh, I’m on the mend now; in fact the doctor gave me the all-clear to take off the sling this morning, which Lauren was delighted about. No more helping me cut up my food and tie my shoelaces, eh, Lauren?’

  ‘Lauren ties up your shoelaces?’ My mother seems astonished.

  ‘Not now, Mom.’

  My parents exchange a ‘she’s changed’ look.

  ‘So, how exactly did you get injured, Alexander? Was it in the line of duty? Do you mind my asking?’ My father tosses this remark into the mix as we stroll back towards the stables. My mother has linked her arm with mine and we’re walking a few feet behind them, catching up on some news from home, but I can hear every word and my ears prick up. In the line of duty? I know I told them he’d been hurt, but not how.

  I can see Alexander is uncomfortable, and he does his best to steer the conversation elsewhere. ‘It’s nothing. Just a scratch,’ he says dismissively.

  Daddy stops by a gate. ‘If you don’t mind me being frank, I’m guessing you’re making light of it. I know my daughter and she doesn’t make a fuss over nothing. Quite the opposite in fact, and I’m pretty certain she wouldn’t have stayed here if it was only a scratch.’

  Alexander stops too, and we catch them up so we’re all together now. The atmosphere has subtly changed and I have a sense of impending doom.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you the details of what happened, and I’m sure you understand that, but yes, I was injured on active service. Let’s just say I got into a sticky situation and I ended up having my arm slashed and taking a bit of a beating. Not my ideal way to spend a few days but thanks to the medics, as you can see, I’m in one piece.’

  My mother’s arm tightens around mine. ‘My God, it sounds awful. I’m so glad you’re home safe and well.’

  He smiles. ‘Thank you. Me too.’ Then Alexander says politely but definitely coolly, ‘Now, would you like to see the stables? Do you ride, Mrs Cusack?’

  ‘Occasionally and not well, and please call me Blythe.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure you ride very well if you’re anything like Lauren. She’s a fine horsewoman. She can stay in the saddle for hours.’

  A fine horsewoman? In the saddle for hours? I’ve no time to be amused by Alexander’s innuendo, because I’m still wondering how my parents know he was wounded in action. As we walk into the stables, I suddenly realize: my mother must have been Googling him to death, and so she not only may know something about at least part of his army career and his family history but probably his inside leg measurement and favourite colour too.

  I allow myself a smile at my own jumpiness while Alexander introduces my parents to Harvey, the safe horse I use for hacking round the estate. I guess Alexander will be able to come with me as his arm recovers, if we get the chance to spend any time at Falconbury during term. Suddenly, I realize that term starts in a few days and it’s only eight weeks long; then it’s exams, and it’s all over.

  ‘Lauren?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  When I shake myself back into the present, everyone is looking at me. ‘Alexander was telling us about the hunts they hold on the estate, honey …’

  ‘Was he?’ I tell myself to stop brooding. The next eight weeks are going to be filled with study, and hopefully some fun. It’s pointless to waste a second thinking beyond the next day or week. Besides, I have the next twenty-four hours to get through first, with my parents clearly keen to give me the third degree on Alexander.

  With a pat for Harvey, we return to the stable yard, where Talia is just bringing back Alexander’s hunter after his exercise. After a quick word with her, he rejoins us.

  ‘Shall we go back into the house for some tea? I’ll ask Helen to serve it in the library because I’m sure you’d like to talk to Lauren and I need to do my physio.’

  Alexander goes off to his room, and I escort my parents back up to the guest suite. It’s the same one I used to occupy while General Hunt was alive. OMG, my parents are staying under the same roof!

  ‘What a beautiful suite this is, Lauren.’ Mom seems genuinely impressed when we walk in and I don’t blame her. The room is furnished with antiques and overlooks the parkland at the front of the house. ‘So where’s your room?’ My mother’s tone sounds innocent but there is nothing innocent about it.

  ‘I’m sharing with Alexander,’ I say firmly.

  ‘I see.’

  Daddy takes her arm and steers her over to the window that overlooks the deer park. ‘Blythe, have you seen this view? It really is something special.’

  I’m almost twenty-two; they know I slept with Todd, so why does my mom assume that things would be any different with Alexander? I guess I’ve sprung him on them so they’ve had less time to get used to the idea.

  I point out a few landmarks in the distance, the church spire in the village and a folly on the hill to the west, while my mother ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’.

  ‘It was very good of Alexander to ask us to stay. I can see he’s a man who likes to have his own way though,’ Daddy says, turning away from the window and back to me. My antennae twitch. ‘Lauren, tell me to butt out if you like, and I guess you probably will, but do you know what you’re doing, getting so embroiled with Alexander?’

  ‘I’d never tell you or Mom to butt out.’ I feel a little shaky with irritation and because I hate having a confrontation with my parents when they’ve only just arrived.

  ‘We’re not trying to interfere but this …’ My mother waves her hand in the general direction of the whole room.

  ‘What?’ I snap. ‘You’d rather I go out with someone back home? A lawyer maybe? Someone you hand-pick for me?’ I am surprised by my anger.

  ‘Don’t be silly, you know us better than that.’ My father’s tone hardens a little. ‘And we know Todd wasn’t right for you, but your mother and I are concerned about this whole situation.’

  ‘What situation? The fact I’m with an English aristocrat who just happens to want to serve his country?’ I can’t believe I’m defending Alexander so fiercely. Is it because my choices are being called into question? ‘There’s no need to try and protect me from him. I’m not little Laurie now, and I haven’t been for a very long time. Alexander is … He is what he is.’

  ‘Lauren …’ Daddy softens a little but my mother cuts in.

  ‘When your father got the invitation from the am
bassador, we decided to come over sooner than we’d first planned. Then his office received an email from a friend of yours. His assistant saw it referred to you and it seemed personal, so she flagged it up for Daddy.’

  It takes me a few seconds to reply because my brain is scrambled by this news. ‘An email about me? From who? What friend?’

  ‘From Imogen. Isn’t she the girl you hang out with here?’

  ‘Yes, but … Immy sent you an email? That’s impossible.’

  ‘Your father has a copy of it. She said she’d spent a long time before deciding to send the email but she thought we should know that you might be in trouble. She said that you were living with Alexander and that he’d almost been killed on an illegal special forces op, and that we should know that he’s emotionally damaged, he has issues from his mother dying and some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder that makes him prone to violent outbursts …’

  ‘What?’ I laugh even though I think this is the least funny situation on the planet. ‘That’s a pile of bullshit and there is no way Immy would have sent you an email like that. She wouldn’t dream of it!’ All the same, I am rather shocked. What on earth is going on?

  My father is silent, but I can tell he’s holding himself back by sheer will.

  My mother stands up and touches me on the arm. ‘Someone who knows you has. We’re not stupid, and your father gets a lot of crank letters and emails, but this Imogen seems to know your circumstances very well. She said she was very worried about you and thought we should know the kind of man you were involved with.’

  Light dawns and I feel slightly sick – and mad as hell. ‘Are you sure she signed it Imogen?’

  ‘Of course I am,’ Daddy says.

  ‘Then I know who the email was from and it wasn’t Immy. Valentina must have sent it. She’s a crazy bitch.’ I shake off Mom’s soothing hand.

  ‘Lauren!’ My mother sounds genuinely shocked at my language.

  ‘This isn’t like you, honey.’ Daddy now sounds sad and that makes me even madder.