Summer at the Star and Sixpence

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Summer at the Star and Sixpence Page 4

by Holly Hepburn


  ‘Nothing is going on,’ Sam protested. ‘Today was a one-off and, believe me, it won’t happen again.’

  ‘I’m not an idiot, Sam. Tell me the truth.’

  She’d spilled out the whole story then, determined to defend herself.

  ‘I didn’t know he was a client until a few days later,’ she finished. ‘And I definitely didn’t know he was married. He lied about that.’

  Myles rubbed his face wearily. ‘It doesn’t matter, Sam. Tongues are wagging already. If – when – this gets out, people are going to assume what I did – that you’re having an affair. No one is going to believe you didn’t know he was married. I’m not sure I believe it.’

  ‘Honestly, I—’

  ‘You should have told me as soon as you realised who he was,’ he interrupted. ‘I might have been able to do something then, protected you or moved you to another office. Now I don’t have any choice.’

  Sam tensed, knowing what was coming next. ‘Myles—’

  ‘I’m sorry it’s come to this,’ he went on, looking as regretful as he sounded. ‘You’re one of the best PRs I have. But we both know you’ve got to go. You’re a ticking bomb, Sam, and I won’t let you drag Brightman and Burgess into a scandal.’

  She watched him in silence, digging her nails into her palm to stop the tears that pressed the backs of her eyes. She should fight, threaten unfair dismissal or a sexual harassment case, except that all the details would have to come out and she’d be ruined. Unemployable. Not only that, but the lives of Will’s wife and children would be ruined too and she couldn’t have that on her conscience.

  Myles shook his head. ‘It’s easier if you resign. I can offer you six months’ salary in lieu of notice, if you pack your things and leave immediately. A solid reference, if you want one.’

  A solid reference, she noted, the kind that gave dates of employment and not much else. The kind that spoke volumes by saying nothing at all. Who was she trying to kid? Sam wondered, feeling sick. She was practically unemployable now. ‘I suppose you’ll keep him as a client?’ she said, unable to prevent bitterness from sharpening her words.

  ‘I have to,’ Myles said, shrugging. ‘He’s powerful, his star is on the rise. And since it seems he can’t keep it in his trousers, I imagine he’s going to need us for more than just media training eventually.’

  Without another word, she got up to go. She reached the door before Myles spoke again. ‘One last piece of advice, Sam. I know you’re angry and you have a right to be, but don’t even think about going to the press with this. It won’t end well if you do.’

  She raised her chin. ‘Threats, Myles? You know me better than that.’

  ‘Advice, from one PR to another. When you’ve calmed down you’ll know I’m right.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Look after yourself, okay?’

  And just like that her career was over.

  Listen, Sam, we need to talk. What could Will Pargeter possibly have to say that she wanted to hear? Her mind skittered back to her last conversation with Myles. Tongues are wagging, he’d said. She’d always known there was a strong possibility that her secret would be found out. Could someone else have put two and two together? Could it be Will’s wife?

  She picked up the phone and brought up the number again. Maybe she should speak to Will, find out whether her fears were true. If they were, and the shit was about to hit the fan, she needed to know sooner rather than later.

  The bedroom door bumped open and Joss appeared in the doorway, wearing boxer shorts and carrying a tray bearing tea and toast. He stopped when he saw Sam’s face. ‘What?’

  For a moment, Sam thought about telling him everything. And then the moment passed and she dredged up a smile. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Work stuff, that’s all.’

  He started forwards again and slid the tray onto the bedside table. ‘Anything I can do to help?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, pulling him towards her. ‘Distract me.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘Got time for a cuppa?’

  Nessie looked up from the delivery paperwork she was checking off. Kathryn was hovering on the other side of the bar, a box from the village bakery in her hands.

  It was one-thirty on Wednesday afternoon and the pub was quiet, or as quiet as it could be with the builders still working on the attic renovations. A few village stalwarts were dotted here and there but they were reading the papers or chatting amongst themselves. They wouldn’t care if she took a quick break.

  ‘If you’ve got some of Martha’s macarons in that box, then it’s love,’ Nessie said.

  Kathryn grimaced. ‘I went for doughnuts. Sorry.’

  Nessie laughed as she walked to the coffee machine. ‘Don’t be. Macarons taste gorgeous but they’re gone too fast. Give me a doughnut to sink my teeth into any day.’

  She made a pot of tea and joined Kathryn at one of the tables in front of the fireplace. The weather was too warm for a fire now, with forecasters predicting a heatwave that would last until early June at least. Long enough for the wedding, Nessie thought to herself. After that, she didn’t really mind if it snowed.

  ‘So?’ Kathryn said, peering with unashamed interest over the top of her tea. ‘How were the bluebells?’

  Nessie hesitated. She might have known it would be the first thing Kathryn asked. In fact, she was amazed it had taken so long; Sam had been on her almost as soon as she’d walked through the door, although she’d been dismayed by what Nessie had told her.

  ‘The bluebells were beautiful,’ she answered carefully. ‘Every bit as gorgeous as you said they’d be.’

  ‘Good,’ Kathryn said, leaning forward. ‘And?’

  ‘And I wish I’d known what day it was before we went,’ Nessie said, sighing. ‘Before I made a great big fool of myself.’

  The sparkle faded from Kathryn’s eyes. ‘Ah, the wedding anniversary. What happened?’

  Feeling like she’d rather crawl under the table than relive the embarrassment, Nessie gave her friend a brief rundown of events. ‘So I think I’m wasting my time,’ she finished. ‘Owen obviously still carries a torch for Eliza and I can’t compete with her. More than that, I don’t want to.’

  Kathryn opened up the cake box and bit glumly into a doughnut. ‘I do love my brother but there are times when I could cheerfully thump him.’

  ‘Kathryn!’ Nessie exclaimed, half shocked, half amused. ‘It’s hardly his fault. If anything it’s mine, for rushing things.’

  The other woman chewed for a moment. ‘How many times have you and Owen gone out now?’

  ‘Twice,’ Nessie said. ‘Not counting the film last Friday.’

  ‘You’ve been on two dates,’ Kathryn repeated. ‘In six months. And how many times have you kissed?’

  ‘Once,’ Nessie admitted, feeling her cheeks turn pink. Kathryn was her friend but she was also Owen’s sister. It felt weird discussing this with her.

  ‘Once,’ Kathryn said solemnly, ‘initiated by you. That’s not rushing things. People have got married faster.’

  Nessie shuddered. ‘And that’s the other thing. Technically, I’m still married to Patrick. I’m not sure I should be kissing anyone.’

  ‘Don’t give me that rubbish, Vanessa Blake,’ Kathryn said, shaking a finger at her. ‘Sam says Patrick is ancient history, whether you’ve got a piece of paper that says so or not. Just like Eliza is history. Owen might not want to face up to that fact but it’s time he did.’

  Nessie fiddled with her teaspoon. ‘You can’t make him move on if he’s not ready.’

  Kathryn sighed. ‘I know. But I also know I’ve never seen him happier than he has been these last six months. So you’ll forgive me if I seem to be pushing the two of you together. I don’t mean to meddle, I just think he deserves a bit of happiness, that’s all. And from what Sam says, you do too.’

  Nessie thought back to Sunday, when Owen had mentioned how much Eliza had loved the bluebells. He’d looked so sad and alone. ‘You’re right,’ she said, swallowing
hard. ‘But maybe I’m not the one to give it to him.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Kathryn snorted. ‘I’ve seen how you two are with each other. Do you think I’d be going to all this trouble if I didn’t think you were the one?’ She leaned forward, her expression suddenly serious. ‘Listen, I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told another soul. I know it seems like Owen and Eliza had the perfect marriage but things were pretty rocky between them just before she got sick. I don’t think they’d have gone the distance if – well – if circumstances had been different.’

  ‘But they weren’t different,’ Nessie said gently. ‘And Eliza is always going to be there. If Owen’s not ready to let go then I’m better off knowing now, before I make an even bigger fool of myself.’

  Kathryn’s shoulders sagged. ‘Don’t give up hope, that’s all. He’ll realise that for himself, if he’s got any sense.’

  Nessie managed a strained smile and reached for the cake box. ‘Best not to hold my breath, though, right?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Kathryn admitted.

  Nessie breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief when the builders packed up the last of their things later on Friday afternoon. She and Sam spent the weekend clearing the worst of the dust from the attic rooms ready for the decorator to start early on Monday morning. And although she wouldn’t admit it to anyone except herself, Nessie was glad of the excuse to stay upstairs, out of sight. She hadn’t seen Owen since the weekend, although she’d heard from Franny that he’d contributed a vital answer to their narrow victory over Purdon Warriors at the Three Horseshoes the night before. She wasn’t sure what she’d say to him anyway. The walk back from the woods had been pleasant enough and he’d kissed her on the cheek when they’d parted, but she’d seen a guarded look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. After Kathryn’s revelation about Eliza, Nessie didn’t know what to think. But it was easier to keep her distance than to face the certainty that their relationship might be over before it had really even begun.

  Sam seemed just as preoccupied. Nessie had found her staring out of the narrow attic windows several times, a distant expression on her face. It was so out of character that Nessie had asked if she was having problems with Joss.

  ‘It’s nothing like that,’ Sam had replied. ‘I’m just worried about the wedding.’

  And Nessie had let it go. She knew from experience that Sam only shared what she wanted to share. But she found it was adding to her own sense of disquiet. She tried to shake it off but it stuck, so much so that Ruby commented when she called into the Star and Sixpence on Monday afternoon.

  ‘Is everything all right, Nessie?’ the older woman asked a few minutes into their conversation.

  ‘Fine,’ Nessie said, knowing her voice was too bright. ‘I think Sam and I will be glad once JoJo’s wedding is out of the way.’ Ruby raised an immaculate eyebrow, causing Nessie to replay the last sentence in her head. ‘Not out of the way. Underway.’

  Ruby nodded. ‘You do mean out of the way and who can blame you? It’s not every day you have a friend’s wedding to cater for, and an important friend at that.’ She let out a contented sigh. ‘I do love a summer wedding, though, especially when the whole village joins in. I can’t remember the last time we had one. Of course, Andrew and I planned a big celebration for ours but it wasn’t to be, sadly.’

  Nessie blinked. Ruby and her father had been engaged? That was news to her. Once again she was reminded that the Andrew Chapman who ran the Star and Sixpence was not the same man she knew. ‘He proposed?’ she said, trying to keep the surprise from her voice.

  ‘Not in so many words,’ Ruby said, waving a dismissive hand. ‘But we had an understanding, darling. I suppose you might call it a pact. One day we’d stand before God and forsake all others to make a fresh start. In your father’s case it meant giving up the booze, which is probably why we never quite made it down the aisle.’

  It was hard for Nessie to imagine her father sober. She couldn’t picture him without a glass in his hand, could only recall him drunk and the arguments it had caused. She remembered her mother weeping late at night too, when she thought her daughters were fast asleep. Her memories of those years were ingrained with the scent of whiskey and tobacco and the salty taste of tears.

  ‘I think you would have liked him better in your adult years,’ Ruby went on. ‘Or maybe liked is the wrong word – you might have understood him better, been able to see past the booze to what lay underneath. He was a good man who tried his best to do the right thing.’

  Tell that to the wife he abandoned, Nessie thought, but she didn’t say it. ‘Maybe I would.’

  Ruby gave a small smile. ‘He dreamed of seeing you and Sam again, of making up for all those lost years. He’d cut down a lot on the drinking but he didn’t want to get in touch with you until he was completely sober. He didn’t want to let you down again.’

  ‘Do you think he’d have managed it?’ Nessie asked, swallowing to dislodge the sudden lump Ruby’s last sentence had caused. ‘Stopped drinking, I mean.’

  Ruby gave an elegant shrug. ‘I like to think he would. I had a dress all picked out, ready for the day he made an honest woman of me. Then he went and died on me and now we’ll never know.’

  Nessie wanted to hug her. Whatever she thought about her father, it was clear Ruby had adored him. ‘It’s just a piece of paper. I’m sure he loved you just as much without it.’

  ‘And yet we set so much store by it,’ Ruby said. ‘JoJo and Jamie are spending a small fortune on this wedding. Then there’s you and Owen, both hiding behind your old marriage certificates instead of taking a chance and embracing love.’

  Nessie felt her mouth drop open. That hardly seemed fair – Owen did right to honour his wife’s memory, and Nessie’s separation from Patrick was less than a year old. Neither of them were exactly hiding. And yet . . .

  ‘You think I should get a divorce,’ she said baldly.

  ‘It would be a start,’ Ruby replied. ‘Not because you need to – you’re a free woman, after all – but because of what it represents. You’d have a clean slate, a fresh start. It might make Owen feel better about giving up the memory of Eliza too.’

  ‘What if he’s not ready?’ Nessie asked.

  ‘Then do it for you,’ Ruby urged. ‘Look at your own future. Reclaim who you are.’

  In a strange way it made sense, Nessie was surprised to discover. She was in a sort of limbo at the moment, neither married nor single. It would be liberating to cut her ties with Patrick, not because she wanted to forget him but because Ruby had a point; a fresh start was exactly what she needed. Hadn’t that been what coming to the Star and Sixpence had been all about?

  Impulsively, she reached out and wrapped her arms around the older woman. ‘You’re so right,’ she said, breathing in the scent of Chanel No. 5 mingled with gin. ‘Thanks, Ruby, I could kiss you.’

  Ruby laughed. ‘That’s what Richard Burton used to say, every time I told him to get his arse back to Elizabeth.’

  Chapter Six

  Sam waited until she was out of Little Monkham, on a trip to stock up on luxury towels and bed linen for the guest rooms, to call Will. The car park at John Lewis seemed as good a place as any.

  ‘It’s me,’ she said when he answered.

  ‘Sam,’ he said, sounding far too pleased to hear her voice. ‘How are you?’

  She exhaled sharply. ‘Never mind how I am. What do you want?’

  There was a pause. ‘I need to see you.’

  A wave of disbelief washed over Sam. Was that what this was about after all this time – his refusal to accept that she didn’t want him? ‘Why?’

  ‘Marina knows about you. About us.’

  Sam closed her eyes. ‘How?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Of course it matters,’ she snapped.

  ‘Someone told her,’ he sighed. ‘A friend of a friend, someone who used to work at Brightman and Burgess.’

  Myles’ voice echoed in Sam’s head
: tongues are wagging . . . She leaned her head against the steering wheel. ‘What is she going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Will said. ‘We should meet up, work out a strategy.’

  She snorted. ‘That’s the last thing we should do. She’s probably having you watched.’

  ‘Myles is talking about breaking the story first, before Marina can.’

  Sam’s eyes widened. ‘Myles?’

  ‘Of course,’ Will said. ‘He’s the one who tipped me off.’

  He hadn’t warned her, Sam thought bitterly, but it was hardly a surprise. Myles made it perfectly clear where his loyalties lay when he’d told her to leave. ‘And gave you this number, I suppose.’

  ‘No, I had to call in a few favours to get this, and to find out where you’d disappeared to. How on earth did you end up running a pub?’

  Her mouth dropped open. ‘All those silent calls . . . they were you?’

  ‘At first I just wanted to hear your voice. I – I still think about that night, Sam. I don’t want you to think you’re one of many.’ He took a deep, shaky-sounding breath. ‘Marina was so wrapped up in the baby, I was lonely. And there you were, fascinating and funny and irresistible. I’m a good man, Sam, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.’

  ‘Oh please,’ she snarled. ‘You weren’t wearing your wedding ring, Will. Who does that unless they’re out on the pull? And don’t even get me started about what happened in the conference room that day.’

  ‘My ring was at the jeweller’s,’ he said patiently. ‘It wasn’t fitting properly and I kept fiddling with it. Myles said it would look bad in my television interviews so I sent it to be fixed. I got it back the day after we spent the night together.’ He hesitated. ‘I’m sorry about that day too. I just wanted you so much, it was driving me crazy.’

  He had an answer for everything, Sam thought, not believing a single word. It was a good thing he was moving in political circles now; he had the right personality for it. ‘You know what? None of it matters,’ she said wearily. ‘I don’t have to believe you – I’m not the one who has to spin a way out of this for you.’

 

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