by Rosie Blake
‘Don’t smudge the lipstick,’ Paula called out, immediately forcing my hand down.
I couldn’t believe the transformation. I looked like I had stepped off the set of an old black and white film. I was wearing the dress that had belonged to Grandma, the dress I had admired in the bedroom when we had cleared out her things. The dusky rose pink warmed my skin, and I moved slowly, careful not to snag any of the tiny beads sewn into the bodice. The floor-length chiffon skirt made me feel like a fairy queen but a really good one in a classy production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It was overkill and I felt the buzz of excitement as to where we were headed.
Margaret had pinned my hair into a low side bun and I twisted left and right to glimpse rolled curls expertly secured, my long fringe framing my face. Paula’s make-up made my pale blue eyes pop, the red lipstick making my teeth sparkle impossibly white. I grinned at them both staring at my reflection from behind me.
‘I love the winged eyeliner,’ I exclaimed, stepping towards the mirror. ‘And my hair, and this lipstick is gorgeous, this colour is amazing.’
My skin looked luminous and smooth, no more tired eyes and broken veins. The woman in the mirror looked to have had a decent ten hours’ sleep and a facial.
‘Here,’ Paula said, thrusting a pair of cream leather heels at me. ‘This is to complete the look, and once you’re ready, Howard will be outside to take you on to your next surprise.’
I put on the heels and paused to look up at both women, eyes rounded. They looked twitchy with excitement, Margaret breaking into smiles. ‘You look perfect,’ she said, clapping her hands together. ‘Oh, this is just magical.’
Paula rolled her eyes. ‘It is all getting rather Disney round here. I do hope Howard hurries up.’
They were packing up as a horn blasted and I rushed to the window to see Howard in his car in the street below, grinning up at the flat window and waving, something lying on the seat in the back.
‘He’s here!’ Margaret clapped. ‘We’ll let ourselves out, you go on, Lottie.’ She was herding me towards the front door. ‘You really don’t need anything but here’s a shawl – it’s cold outside – a bag with a comb, a couple of items if you need to touch up your face, the lipstick, obviously, and a packet of tissues.’
I allowed her to thrust the shawl and small clutch bag into my hands, feeling confused and elated all at the same time. What was going on? Where was I headed?
I turned to thank the two women, feeling my heart swell at the sight of them. My eyes swam; I knew Grandma would have desperately wanted to be here.
‘Don’t you dare start weeping,’ Paula said crossly, marching forward and forcing me to blink in surprise. ‘You’ll ruin our good work.’ And with a gruff hug she pulled me towards her and then released me. ‘Now get along,’ she said, her voice coming out a little hoarse. I noticed Margaret looking over at her in surprise.
‘Thank you for everything,’ I said, hearing the horn outside go for the second time.
‘Go,’ Paula waved me away with a hand. ‘We won’t be a moment tidying up here, and then we’re off into town.’
Darling Cora,
Tonight something wonderful will happen. And the first person I want to talk about it all with is you. That will never change. I am always thinking of you, my darling, and I know how much you would want to be here with us all.
I love you.
Teddy x
Chapter 31
Love is . . . everything
CLEMENTINE, 86
‘Where are we going?’
Resting my head back against the leather of Howard’s car I felt a warm glow as I thought back to Margaret and Paula appearing in my flat laden with equipment to transform me. I knew Grandma would have loved to be there. She always nagged me to spend more time and care on myself; she adored clothes and dressing up and had been impossibly elegant. The lump that so often formed in my throat when I thought of her was lessened slightly by the fact her friends were still looking out for me.
‘Excited?’ Howard looked across at me.
I nodded, aware suddenly of my leaping stomach and dampening hands.
‘We’re almost there,’ he said.
‘Where?’
He had switched off again, unable to stop the smile forming on his face as he turned the radio up and shifted the car into a higher gear.
We drew up outside a house I didn’t recognise, ivy climbing the walls, no lights on inside.
‘Where are we?’
He didn’t answer me. The day was darkening already, the evenings so much earlier now, lilac and dark blue strips like ribbons in the sky, the sun lost below the line of houses, a few stars visible overhead.
‘Wait there,’ Howard instructed as I reached down for the clutch bag.
I pulled the shawl a little tighter around me as Howard moved round to open my door.
‘Luke asked me to give you this.’
I looked up sharply. Was Luke not here? I had assumed, but perhaps . . . The house seemed still and silent. Howard was holding a long thin box and I took it silently, my hand shaking a little as I pulled at the bow wrapped round it. All this thought and effort . . . it felt surreal to be in the middle of a real-life movie.
Tears pricked my eyes, making the contents blur. I took out a simple silver chain, a pendant in palest pink hanging from it: it would look amazing with the dress.
‘Oh, it’s wonderful,’ I said, immediately reaching round to attach it. The clasp was tiny and I seemed to be all fingers knowing Howard was waiting.
‘He’s a good lad, your one. I don’t normally go in for all this romance, that’s more Arjun and your grandfather, but even I wouldn’t mind being wooed by that Luke Winters. Man’s got class.’
I grinned at Howard, feeling the clasp connect. He proffered his arm. ‘You do look wonderful this evening, Lottie.’ Then he paused, his voice lower. ‘Right then, are you ready?’
I swallowed once and took a step forward: I was.
We stepped up a winding path, lanterns flickering on either side, to a gateway which led to a garden behind the building.
There was a pergola arch, climbing plants and small white flowers entwined around the wooden trellis, the strong smell of lavender from overflowing pots on either side. The arch acted as the perfect frame, a table beyond laid for two people, wine glasses glinting in the soft light, candles flickering on the table and more lanterns scattered on the ground. Luke was standing next to the table, dressed in a shirt I didn’t recognise, a woollen brown dogtooth three-piece suit, a pink handkerchief peeking out of the pocket of the waistcoat, his face breaking into a smile as he stepped forward.
‘Lottie, you look incredible,’ he said, unable to hold back from laughing as he stepped around me. ‘Like a Forties movie star. Your hair is brilliant.’
I felt myself grow hot with the scrutiny. ‘Thanks,’ I mumbled, feeling suddenly shy as he bent to kiss me.
He pulled out a chair for me and it was only as I took a seat that I realised I could hear music playing, the scratchy quality that could only come from an LP, the notes wafting round us at the table.
‘This is lovely,’ I said, taking in the polished silver, tealight and single rose in a thin vase in the centre of the table.
Suddenly Geoffrey appeared through the arch dressed in full black tie: crisp ironed shirt, neat bow tie, cufflinks sparkling, his two remaining strands of hair combed backwards.
A hand flew to my mouth as a giggle escaped. He had flung a fresh white tea towel over his arm and dipped into a sort of bow when he reached our table.
‘Sir, madam, welcome.’
Luke had sat down and was laughing at my expression.
‘Can I take your wine order please? Would you like a refreshing New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc or a Rioja from South America?’
‘Oh,’ I said, shifting in my chair, ‘I would like the refreshing Sauvignon Blanc please.’
‘An excellent choice, madam.’
‘Two,’ Luke s
aid, holding up two fingers, ‘and step on it.’
Geoffrey did bow that time and backed away from our table. I looked over at Luke incredulously.
He shrugged. ‘It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.’
Geoffrey returned to pour the drinks, I realised the music had stopped and then, after some distant whispers and shuffling, he was joined by Arjun and Grandad, also in black tie, bar the tea towels. Howard had changed too and appeared in the archway straightening his bow tie as they all formed a semi-circle around our table.
I frowned. ‘What is goi—’
Luke gave them a nod and Geoffrey started to conduct.
Then, in a hesitant a cappella, they began to sing. A barbershop quartet of a familiar-sounding song which had my mouth opening in amazed surprise. It was a wobbly rendition and I found myself clutching my sides as I focused on each face, screwed up in concentration, carefully watching Geoffrey’s hand movements. The whole garden seemed filled with the sound and I wiped at my eyes, feeling an enormous warmth for this rabble of men all dressed up and singing for us.
I looked across at Luke and realised he was equally moved. I often forgot that he didn’t have his own extended family, a group I had taken for granted, parents on the end of the phone, grandparents who had always been around. I felt incredibly grateful to Grandad and his friends for adopting him into their tribe. It was clear from their delighted expressions as we clapped and cheered their last note that they had done it for him, clapping him on the back as they all made a discreet exit, leaving Geoffrey to quietly produce a starter of mouth-watering pâté and toasted ciabatta.
I didn’t feel like eating, still wanting just to soak up the evening, the touches Luke had clearly planned and, as I stared around me, realising yet again how lucky I was to be with someone so thoughtful.
Luke reached a hand across the table and I took it, feeling a frisson as he stroked my thumb with his own.
Forcing myself to concentrate on the food in front of me, the pâté replaced with mouth-watering duck breasts and potatoes, I tried to stay calm, to ignore the pounding in my chest and simply enjoy the evening. Then, as the main plates were cleared, Luke took my hand once more.
He began to speak. ‘Lottie, you must be wondering why I . . . ’
Grandad and friends appeared eagerly in the archway and I glanced across at them, distracted for a moment. Luke did a double-take, an uncharacteristic blush flooding his face. ‘You’re a bit early,’ Luke whispered at them. Grandad’s eyes widened and he could be seen ushering the others backwards with frantic hand gestures.
I frowned. What was going on?
I could hear Howard grumbling in the background, Arjun or Geoffrey sshing him furiously and then a squeak.
‘You stood on my foot.’
‘Ssh.’
‘Does Luke mean soon or should we wait a while?’
The trouble with people hard of hearing is they tend to talk loudly, and I glanced at Luke who was grimacing in the flickering candlelight, clearly hoping I couldn’t hear their mutterings.
‘Er . . . all OK?’
‘I think they’re just confused about dessert timing,’ Luke said, loudly enough that the voices dimmed.
‘Dessert?’
‘What dessert?’
‘Does he mean now?’
Luke cringed again and I could feel bubbles of laughter in my stomach, wondering just what was happening. It was clear they were messing up some master plan.
Luke coughed, stuttering as he reached for my hand once more. ‘Lottie,’ he began again, ‘you must be wondering why I’ve brought you here.’
I felt the evening close in around me, just the feel of Luke’s hand, his gaze on me.
‘Lottie, you know we have been together now for seven years—’
‘Almost eight years,’ I corrected. Our anniversary was one month away.
‘Stop being a barrister,’ he said, the soft tone he was using not changing, which made me smile.
‘Sorry.’
‘That’s OK,’ he said in his new, I’m-a-zen-like-masseur voice.
‘You quickly became my best friend. You were funny and intelligent and properly hot.’
I snorted inelegantly but Luke’s face didn’t change.
‘You have always been supportive. When I wanted to change jobs, when I persuaded you to move in with me.’
I felt my toes squirm at the compliments.
‘You were there.’ He slowed down a little now, took a breath. ‘You were there when my mother died and helped me through that time. I don’t know what I would have done without you then. You just knew what to do and how to handle me . . . ’
I felt tears build in my throat as he spoke, the whispers in the background fading as I strained to hear every word he was saying. He was giving me too much credit. Who wouldn’t have behaved like that after someone you loved had lost their mother? Their last remaining parent. I squeezed his hand.
‘Don’t be silly, Luke, of course . . . ’
‘Hey,’ he said softly, ‘I still haven’t finished.’
I pressed my lips together.
He swallowed and looked down. ‘You’ve always been the only girl who has made me want to be better, who has challenged me, made me snort-laugh, made me want to throw stuff, and you know, as I said, you’re hhhhhot.’ He coughed, his smile quickly fading. ‘I know recently things haven’t been easy for you, and I hope I’ve been there for you. Like you were there for me when life wasn’t as, as easy’ – he took a breath – ‘as it might have been.’
I swallowed.
‘Because I want to be there for you. For ever.’
Oh God. This is totally happening. There was urgent sshing behind me. I felt my whole body grow still, my breath suspended somewhere inside me. This. Was. Happening.
‘I wanted to ask you something now.’ And then Luke stopped. The speech ended with me practically leaning across the table horizontally.
‘Yes,’ I prompted.
Was this it? Oh God, was this not it? Luke had started to look a little panicky now, eyes wide, swivelling them over to the arch. Was he planning a speedy exit? Had it all got too intense? Had he changed his mind?
I was aware of voices through the archway, a face peering through the foliage.
‘You’re leaning on me.’
‘Why don’t we get chairs?’
‘I didn’t think he’d take that long.’
‘Do we go now?’
‘Has he finished his speech?’
‘Did he say he’d bring us on or do we just go?’
‘We should have had a code word.’
Four old men shuffled through the archway, glancing at each other nervously before lining up in a row next to our table. A few beats later and they were singing a cappella once more, hands timing the beats, voices shaking, concentrated faces serious and trained on Luke. Then with a final hand gesture Grandad produced a small box from his pocket and laid it in Luke’s outstretched palm, before turning to usher them all back.
‘Go, Howard.’
‘Did you give it to him?’
‘My hip.’
‘Quicker.’
‘Don’t step on me.’
Luke was pretending not to be able to hear the harried whispers as they left the way they had come. I pretended not to notice they had all paused on the other side of the trellis: four eager faces peering through the gaps in the wood and foliage.
‘So what I wanted to ask you, Lottie,’ Luke was speaking loudly, trying to drown them out.
‘Did you see the ring?’
Murmurs of ‘lovely’, ‘big’, ‘cost a packet’ made me start to giggle now, and Luke rolled his eyes back in his head.
‘They were meant to make things more romantic. I have regrets,’ he called, loud enough for them to hear.
‘Hey.’
‘We heard that.’
‘That was your fault, Howard, you can’t do anything quietly.’
I was openly laughing, trying to bl
ock out the bickering as Luke lifted the diamond ring from the small cushion in the box. Then he got up, moving to the side of the table and got down on one knee.
‘Lottie Campbell,’ he said, holding out the ring, ‘will you please marry me?’
I stopped laughing as abruptly as I’d begun, feeling the world pause for a delicious second.
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ I said, taking the ring in utter amazement and then launching myself at Luke, who was struggling to his feet.
Cheers had broken out and faces were now appearing in the archway and I saw Grandad wipe a tear from his eye.
Then Luke and I were kissing and I could feel my whole body become lighter as he held me. Then I felt hands patting our backs and voices all around us as Geoffrey, Arjun, Howard and Grandad crowded around.
‘It’s quite a few carats,’ Howard was saying, clearly impressed as he took a closer look.
‘So happy for you,’ choked Geoffrey, his eyes watering as he smiled at us.
‘It was Howard making all the noise,’ Arjun added quickly.
Grandad was completely silent, standing a little back from the group. Luke and I broke away and both went over to him. He smiled as we approached, his eyes brimming with tears.
It made me swallow, seeing Grandad so emotional.
‘I got chilli in my eye,’ Grandad said, swiping at his face. He stepped forward, taking both my hands in his. ‘Cora would have loved to see you both do this.’
I nodded, knowing he was absolutely right and not trusting myself to speak. He let go of my hands as Luke placed an arm around my shoulders.
‘I hope you are both as happy as we were,’ Grandad said. Stepping forward, he hugged us.
‘And,’ he said, drawing back again, his hands on my upper arms, ‘I know Cora would want me to say this—’
I held my breath, waiting for the wisdom, the heartstopping moment of truth.
‘You must hope and pray, Lottie, that if you do go on to have children together, that they inherit Luke’s incredible hands,’ he said solemnly, and then, with a smile, moved in for another hug.
Acknowledgements