Then Isabella turned on him: “Oh do shut up!” Then turning back to me: “When I finish with you, you little tramp…!”
Jeremy stepped forward hesitantly, “Now hold on a second. You can’t speak to Becky like that…” sounding more like: Can you?
I spun around to face him. Grabbed his sorry flowers, and started beating him about the chest with them. “Just piss off Jeremy! I don’t want your sorry flowers. And I don’t want you!”
“Becky, you’re not thinking straight!” he shouted over Portia and Mrs Dobson.
“I’ve met someone else Jeremy! Get it?!” Jeremy started shouting something back at me, but Isabella’s voice trumped him.
“Is that MY husband you’re talking about?!” she yelled incredulously.
Gwendolyn appeared in the doorway, slamming the door so hard, it momentarily stunned us all out of our frenzied state. We all heatedly, but silently, turned to face her as she furiously surveyed the room and the goo-stained, hand-made chaise.
“I don’t care what this is about,” she managed through gritted teeth, “but it stops now,” giving Isabella a look. “This is my salon,” she said firmly. “My. Salon. And this…this commotion…will not be tolerated!” Mrs Dobson pulled her towel more tightly around her, as if she had not been part of any commotion, and had no idea what Gwendolyn was talking about. Portia ran her fingers innocently through her hair, whilst Lauren pretended to sort through files on the reception desk. Isabella snatched her handbag off the chaise, started toward the door…then stopped.
“Oh,” she said delightedly, as Charles stepped into the salon. “I thought you weren’t going to make it darling.” My heart. Literally. Stopped. “Come in,” she said happily. “Come in darling.”
Charles shot me a confused look, then noticed Mrs Dobson, wrapped in very small towel and smudged avocado mask. “Is that you mother?” He peered at her. Mrs Dobson pursed her lips.
“Yes darling,” Isabella laughed lightly. “We’re all here.”
“What do you want Isabella?” he snapped at her. “Why did you call me down here?”
Isabella reached into her handbag and pulled out a pile of photographs. “Oh I do wish I had time to explain it to you in more detail darling,” she said sweetly, “but pictures, as they say, speak a thousand words,” handing him the pile of photos, “and as it seems I won’t be able to use these in court anymore, you may as well have them.” Charles flicked through a few photos, looking more thunderous with each one. Mrs Dobson edged beside him, looking over his shoulder, at the photos. She looked across at me with confusion. Not quite connecting the dots. Charles looked across at me…with heartbreak. Isabella didn’t miss the look. “Oh yes, you remember Rebecca Hardy, don’t you darling?” Paused, then added…” Lovely girl. You do know I was paying her to see you?”
C hapter Twenty
“As lovely as Kensington Gardens are darling,” Abby began cautiously, “you don’t plan on hiding away in here forever? Do you?” We were sitting on a marble bench in the mainly deserted Italian Gardens. I found the sound of the water fountains calming and the cool touch of Carrara marble statues, urns and basins, quite soothing. Every now and then someone would jog past, or you’d see a young mother or nanny, pushing a pram, but for the most part, this was a fairly deserted and peaceful area in Kensington Gardens. You could sit here for hours, days even, on end, without being disturbed. Which was precisely why I loved it.
“How did you find me?” I asked moodily.
“It wasn’t hard,” she smiled. “You’re amazingly predictable Rebecca. If you’re not at home, you’re either at the salon, gym…or you’re here. Anyway, how did you manage to wrangle yourself out of work for two whole weeks?”
I gave Abbey a look. Gwendolyn was there remember. I told her I was feeling a bit under the weather. It was she who suggested two weeks.”
“Do you think you’ll have a job to go back to?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” And I really didn’t care. The advance from my facial exercise DVD deal was enough to keep me for a while. Until I found something else.
We sat in silence for a few moments, and then she asked hesitantly: “Has he called you?”
I exhaled, and said simply: “No.” It had been almost two whole weeks. With not one word from him. I didn’t really expect to hear from Charles, but I would’ve liked the opportunity to have at least explained. I tried calling his mobile phone a few times, only to discover that my number had been blocked. And when I called him at his office, his secretary, as soon as she heard my name, told me in an extremely frosty tone, that he was in a ‘meeting’. Yeah right, one of those never-ending ones, I guessed. “I don’t expect to hear from him again.” Abby opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “And I don’t want to talk about it.” We sat in silence for a few more moments, listening to the gush of water from the falls around us, and then Abby, scrambling for a way to change the dreary mood, turned to me in delight.
“So, just three more weeks for Ascot?!” she said excitedly. “Have you bought a hat yet?”
“I’m not going,” I said miserably.
“Oh don’t be silly Becky. Of course you’re coming,” and gave me a hug.
“I’m not in the mood for Ascot this year,” I sulked.
“Which is precisely why, you have to come! We only get the chance to get dressed up to the hilt, completely sloshed, wearing a ridiculous hat once a year. There’s no way you can miss it. It doesn’t matter if you’re not in the mood now. Once you get your Bo Peep bonnet on, you’ll soon change your mind,” she winked at me.
I smiled. “I don’t have a hat,” I whined, “…and all the nice ones would’ve been sold out by now.”
“You can borrow one of mine darling. I couldn’t decide which one I liked best, so I bought several.”
“As you do,” I said light-heartedly.
“Exactly.” Abby stretched her long legs out in front of her, leaned her head lazily back into the sunshine, closed her eyes, and said casually “Have you heard about Julia and Seb?”
No. I hadn’t heard anything about Julia and Seb. In fact, last time I even saw Seb, he was canoodling with Abby, in secret! I looked at her relaxed face trying to gauge a hint of the fact that she’d managed to split Julia and Seb up. I braced myself for the news. There wasn’t much more that could go wrong in my life. “No,” I said carefully. “What about them?”
“Apparently, they’re going to elope the week after Ascot,” as if it were nothing.
“What?!” I grabbed her arm and shook her eyes open. “Elope?! How do you know?”
“Calm down sweetie,” she laughed, rearranging herself. “Seb told me. Apparently they’re all loved up again, and want to tie the knot before either of them get cold feet for the umpteenth time.”
I looked at Abby. Wondering if she was really hurting over this, but trying to hide it. “Are you upset about it?” I asked gently.
“What?? Good god no! What do I care?”
I squinted at her. “But Abby…I saw you and…” her mobile phone started ringing, she looked at the caller ID and positively beamed.
“Hello darling,” she cooed, “…are you here yet? I’m in the Italian Gardens sweetie. OK. See you in a jiffy,” she sang, and hung up. Then she turned to face me with that oh so familiar beam plastered permanently across her face. “Sorry Becky. What were you saying?”
“Nothing,” I murmured in confusion. Then I looked past her and could see that guy from Juju’s. The Denzel Washington lookalike. “Isn’t that…”
Abby turned around and saw him. “I’m coming darling!” she called out to him happily. “Bradley,” she said turning back to me. “That’s Bradley.”
I gave her a look. “And he’s here to meet you?”
She clasped my hands and laughed. “Yes darling!” I grinned, giving her a confused look. “Seb fixed us up!” she gushed excitedly.
“Seb?!”
“Yes,” she laughed. “At first the three
of us would all meet up at Wheelers together. But then…well, Bradley and I…well, Bradley and I get each other. Oh, and I made Seb swear not to tell Julia about us meeting up. I don’t want her going around for the next fifty years thinking she fixed us up!” She got up and waved over at Bradley.
“The next fifty years? You think it’ll last fifty years?!”
“Who knows,” she beamed with a shrug. She gave me a hug and literally ran over to Bradley, who lifted her off the ground spinning her around, before giving her a kiss. A very passionate kiss. I watched the two of them walk off together, hand-in-hand, into Kensington Gardens, and could hear Abby’s easy laughter, long after they disappeared. I stood in the middle of the Italian Gardens by myself, smiling after them. I had the most complicated and strangest friends in the world. But I loved them dearly. I exhaled deeply, and decided to go home. And then I decided that I would go to Ascot.
“I remember you distinctly saying, that we were not going in coaches this year!” Abigail snapped at Seb, whilst trying to arrange the huge silk flowers on her wide brimmed hat. “It’s completely ruined!” she huffed holding her hat in her hands. The coach journey to Royal Ascot had been quite chaotic to say the least. Seb had ordered two coaches as usual, one for the boys and one for the girls. But the coach company had double booked, and had sent us only one very tatty looking coach, which we all had to squeeze into. There was no space to sit, let alone spread out our extremely extravagant hats. Seb had told us to put our hats in the luggage hold, but Abby had told him in no uncertain terms, that she was not putting her 2K hat in the smelly luggage hold. No, Seb could “bloody well sod off!” So she’d placed her 2K hat on the one free seat available, at the front of the coach, next to Deborah, and her sizable girth. When Abby had placed the hat beside her, it was new out of its Philip Treacy box. When we arrived at Ascot, it was as flat as a pancake! Abby spotted Deborah heaving her way off the coach. “Did you sit on it?!” she snapped at her, holding up the hat. “You’ve completely flattened my bloody hat!”
“Abby!” Julia intervened. “You don’t know for sure that Deborah did that!”
“Of course she bloody well did!” she fumed.
Seb, with one arm around Bradley, and the other clutching an open bottle of champagne, both dressed respectfully in morning suits and top hats, sidled up to Abby, and slurred, “Have a swig of this babe.”
“Fuck off Sebastian! This is all your fault!” Seb and Bradley, already well and truly under the influence, roared at Abby’s response, and swayed off to join the huddle of guys filing off the coach.
Julia sighed. “It’s not that bad. Pass it here.” And twiddled and fiddled with it, until it looked as good as new. “There you go,” she said, passing the hat back to Abby.
Abby inspected it. “Humph,” she said and placed the hat on her head. “Now where have they gone with that bottle of champagne?!” And turned on her designer heels, to go join Seb and Bradley. Without so much of a word of thanks to Julia. Julia looked at me and rolled her eyes.
What I loved most about Ladies Day at Royal Ascot, apart from the electric atmosphere, was the fact that guys and girls could get dressed up to the nines, in their best dresses, hats and morning suits and have a jolly good time, all in the presence of our very own Queen! I mean, of course she sits in the Royal Enclosure, and us common folk, never actually get to see her, but still. She’s here! I loved the fact that women from all over the world came to Royal Ascot to show off and flaunt their personal style and fashions. Some women always tried to outdo each other, by turning up in the most extravagant outfit or hat. Over the years I’ve seen hats resembling skyscrapers, doves kissing, and a whole rose bush! I always preferred to dress more subtly, as if going to a wedding, rather than parading in a Parisian hat show.
I chatted with the rest of the girls, whilst the guys flapped about in a drunken stupor, trying their best to keep on their top hats, as they set up the canopy, ground sheeting, and folding chairs, for our picnic lunch. Then they lugged huge hampers and wine coolers from the coach, and collapsed in a champagne popping heap, whilst the girls took over sorting out the lunch. As usual for Ascot, there was quite a spread. We had a selection of salads, pickles, smoked salmon and lemon chicken, a massive selection of red and white wine, cucumber sandwiches and of course, clotted cream with strawberries.
“I couldn’t eat another morsel,” Julia slurred happily, stretching out on the blanket.
Abby stretched out beside her and hiccupped, “Oh,” she sighed, “neither could I.” We hadn’t even reached the Grandstands yet, and already most of the group were pissed. “Becky darling,” Abby said eyeing me wearily, “do get off that chair and have another glass, no, make that a bottle of wine. You are far too sober darling. You’re making me feel quite self-conscious.”
“No thank you,” I smiled down at her, “the day hasn’t even started yet and you’re all already knocked out.”
“Sweetie, the day started when we left home this morning!” I laughed. Then thought I was imagining things when a familiar annoying voice came grating through the air.
“Ladeeeeez,” the Gustard, looking like a teenager dressed in his dad’s top hat and tails, grabbing his chin and holding his crotch in shock at seeing us. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Is my bitches innit,” he explained to the straight-laced looking guy beside him.
“What the fuck are you doing here Gustard?!” Abby bolted upright. “And who the bloody hell are you calling your bitches exactly?”
Gustard laughed, holding onto his friend for support. “Dis one is well rude,” he nodded toward Abby. “She wants me thou, innit.” His friend peered over the rim of his glasses at Abby, as though he couldn’t quite be sure whether she indeed ‘wanted Gus’ or not.
Bradley came up to Gustard and reached for him. I thought he was going to knock him out, but he hugged him of all things! “Gee! My man! You never said you were coming to Ascot?! You should have travelled down with us!”
“Nah man,” Gustard held out a fist to Bradley, who touched it with his own. “I don’t do the whole coach ting. I come by limo, innit?”
Abby’s mouth fell open. She turned to Bradley. “You know this joker?”
Bradley laughed. “I’ve known him for years babe. He’s one of our top traders!” Julia and I gawped at Abby.
“Top trader?” she asked incredulously. “Are you sure?” Bradley laughed. Gustard winked lewdly at Abby and grabbed his crotch. Seb came over and greeted Gustard with an equally warm hug, and the three of them and Gustard’s straight-laced friend, started chatting loudly, discussing bets and horses, and just how much champagne they had drunk.
Abby rolled her eyes at them and announced to me and Julia: “Loo break girls.” We followed Abby across the turf, weaving through the crowds, all the way past the Grandstands. Of course there were lavatories very close to our picnic area, but Abby always preferred to use the ones closest to the Royal Enclosure, as that’s where all the paparazzi hung out, and she had a better chance of getting into one of the socialite magazines. So we tottered across the turf in our five inch heels, amidst the roar of crowds cheering their horses on, and the laughter of ladies who were there for anything but the horses, giggling to ourselves about Gustard being a City trader.
“Well, as the three of them are such best friends,” Abby teased, “We could all go out on a threesome date…and you could be with Gus Becky darling.” We all burst out laughing at the thought, and I was literally laughing tears imaging Gustard taking me out on a date, and grabbing his crotch the whole evening. The tears made my vision bleary. So bleary, that when he walked up to me, looking quite regal in his top hat and tails, I hardly recognised him.
“Hello Rebecca,” Charles Coombs said quietly. All the noise in the background seemed to have abruptly faded away. I could see people’s mouths cheering and laughing, and I was aware of Julia dragging Abby briskly away from me, but I couldn’t actually hear anything. It seems I couldn’t speak either. “You look…lovely,” he si
ghed.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Then he looked at me. And looked away. Took a deep breath. And looked back at me. “I know the reason you dated me,” he began awkwardly, “but the damnedest thing is, I miss you.” He paused. Maybe waiting for me to say something, but my words couldn’t seem to make it past my throat, and I kind of croaked an acknowledgement of some sort. “I wonder Rebecca…if you would ever consider dating me…of your own free will? I understand if I’m not your type…if I’m too much of an old grump, I’d understand if…”
“Charles!” I laughed, almost in tears. “I would love to!”
“Really?” he asked sounding surprised.
“Yes!” I laughed.
“Well. Well, then…that’s bloody good news!” He laughed with me. “Look darling, I need to rejoin my party in the Royal Enclosure, but can I call you later?”
“It’s Ladies Day at Ascot, Charles.” I teased. “It’s highly unlikely I’d be even remotely coherent later.”
“Oh, of course. Of course,” he laughed lightly. “I shall call you tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow,” I nodded. And he kissed me on the top of my head. As I turned to walk back toward Abby and Julia, with a permanent beam plastered across my face, the sounds from the crowds started up again; some were laughing, some were cheering, and some, some were skipping through the meadows!
THE END!
Note from Author
Dear Reader,
I do hope you enjoyed my debut novel: A Moral Dilemma. If you liked it enough to leave a review, please do let me know by contacting me here: Contact Zara as I would love to gift you a free copy of the second book in this series, so you can hopefully review that one too.
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A Moral Dilemma: A Romantic Comedy Chick Lit Story Page 24