by Karen Clarke
‘It was just a couple of glasses, but she did mention she doesn’t normally drink, so…’ Seth shrugged, seeming amused, and I could tell he was completely taken with her – and why wouldn’t he be? Apart from her ferocious intelligence, she could be warm and witty, and looked stunning – even with faded lipstick, and a hint of curl returning to her straightened hair.
She leaned on one of the dining chairs, presenting her cleavage like a gift, and I noted Seth’s gaze was drawn there, as if her breasts were magnets.
‘I expect I’m driving you home, then.’ My voice was too loud.
‘I wanna see the rest of the house.’ Straightening up, Bridget crossed her arms, hoisting her bosoms even closer to her chin. ‘Can we go upstairs?’ she asked Seth.
‘Erm…’ He rubbed his cheek, darting me a look I couldn’t decipher. ‘I’d rather not disturb Jack,’ he said.
It dawned on me what Bridget was really asking.
‘What about Romy?’ I’d gone the full Mary Poppins now – only sterner, and more disapproving. ‘And what am I supposed to do, while you two…?’ I flapped my hand between them. ‘Do the business?’
‘The business?’ Bridget looked befuddled.
‘Business?’ Seth sounded vaguely appalled.
‘You know I like checking out bathrooms,’ said Bridget. I didn’t, but I’d clearly misunderstood. She was merely hoping the decor upstairs was a touch more luxurious than what she’d encountered so far.
‘I thought…’ I began, but Seth leapt in.
‘The bathroom’s the least appealing room in the house, and I promise you won’t like it one bit.’ He cocked his elbow for Bridget to hold onto. He still had his coat on, as if he wasn’t planning to stay. ‘Next time, you can have the grand tour.’
So, there was going to be a next time. Of course there was. Which was brilliant, obviously.
‘I’ll hold you to that.’ Bridget slipped her arm through his and let him escort her into the hallway, where she screwed up her eyes at the carpet as if seeing it for the first time. ‘Christ, that’s hideous,’ she said. ‘It’s like looking through a kaleidoscope only… much worse.’ She squinted up at Seth. ‘I got a kaleidoscope for Christmas, once. It did my head in.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Seth smiled at her, clearly enchanted. ‘I can’t imagine any child being satisfied with a kaleidoscope these days.’
‘I wasn’t satisfied then,’ Bridget declared. ‘I wanted a Rubik’s cube.’
‘She was only five.’ I’d heard the story before. ‘When I was five, I wanted a doll’s house.’
‘Dad made one for her.’ I immediately wished I hadn’t brought it up. Apparently, he’d spent hours designing and building it – had insisted on putting in a spiral staircase and a working lift – leading to accusations of favouritism from fifteen-year-old Bridget, even though she’d got the violin she’d asked for that Christmas (she gave it up six months later). ‘It was amaaaaazing.’
‘Which is why you set it on fire.’ The words were out before I’d even thought about saying them.
‘I didn’t mean to.’ Bridget checked Seth’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. ‘I’d been secretly smoking in Tilly’s room, and accidently dropped a lit match.’
‘Uh-oh,’ he said, seeming fascinated.
‘She did put it out, to be fair,’ I explained, grabbing my jacket off the banister where I’d left it earlier. ‘By throwing a glass of Coke all over it.’
‘Dad only went and “renovated” it for you, anyway,’ said Bridget, which was the closest she’d ever come to admitting she’d done it on purpose.
‘I don’t think Seth wants to hear about our childhood squabbles.’ I pointed to the door. ‘Why don’t you wait in the car, and I’ll fetch Romy out?’
She pointed at herself. ‘I’ll get Romy, and you wait in the car.’
‘You’re a bit drunk, Bee. It would be easier if I carried her out.’
‘She’s right,’ said Seth, flashing me a bland smile. ‘I’ll walk you to the car, Bridget.’
No doubt he was planning to thoroughly snog her again.
‘Okey-doke.’ She shot him a lopsided grin. ‘So nice to meet a real gennelman.’
Seth glanced towards the living room. ‘You might not be able to get Romy’s coat back on if she’s asleep,’ he said, directing the words somewhere over my shoulder. ‘Take the throw. You can drop it back sometime.’
‘Tomorrow.’ Bridget was fumbling with the door latch.
‘Sorry?’
‘She’s workin’ here, yeah? Gotta finish the job.’
‘Oh.’ Seth grimaced at me. ‘Of course, I meant tomorrow.’
It looked like the last thing he wanted was me at the cottage, and I couldn’t help wondering whether Bridget had said something about me that had made him wary – perhaps even convinced him I wasn’t a fit person to be around Jack, after all.
As he manoeuvred her outside, I plucked Romy’s coat and shoes from the living room floor and, making sure the throw was firmly tucked around her, picked her up and carried her outside. She barely stirred as I strapped her into her seat, while Seth did the same to Bridget in the front.
‘Thanks for a lovely evening,’ she was saying, pronouncing her words very carefully. ‘I had a very nice time, and hope we can do it again.’
‘I hope so too,’ he said.
I tried to ignore the little drop in my stomach, and told myself I was glad they’d hit it off.
‘Tilly’s lucky getting to see you every day,’ she grumbled, snatching at the lapels of his coat. Yanking his head close to hers she planted a smacker on his lips, and I looked away as I got in the car and started the engine, turning the heating up.
‘Thanks again for taking care of Jack,’ Seth said.
‘No problem.’ I sensed him looking at me, but couldn’t meet his gaze, and was glad when the interior light went off.
As he closed Bridget’s door, I drove off quickly, and even though I didn’t check my mirrors, I knew he was watching us go and wondered what he was thinking.
‘Such a nice man,’ murmured Bridget, sounding sleepily happy. ‘Thank you for setting me up with him, Tilly. I know I’d never have met him if it wasn’t for you.’
‘That’s OK.’ I was suddenly ashamed that I’d thought she might have bad-mouthed me to Seth. She’d even praised my design skills to him.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you’d saved his son from drowning?’
My head whipped round. ‘He told you that?’
‘Hey, watch the road!’ She flapped a floppy finger at the windscreen before her head lolled back against the seat. ‘Of course he did,’ she said. ‘He’s so grateful, Tilly. He talked about you a lot, actually.’
‘Oh?’
‘He obviously feels like he owes you big time, even though he’s let you loose on his cottage as a favour.’
Ignoring the last bit, I said, ‘Oh.’ What had I expected? He was still hung up on trying to repay me for saving Jack’s life, which was the only reason I was still around.
‘It was funny hearing someone talk about you like that,’ she mused.
‘Like what?’
‘As if he’s got a lot of respect for you, but then he would,’ she went on, as if talking to herself, ‘considering he’d watched you drag his son from the sea.’ Now her finger was wagging in front of my face. ‘Trust you to make a big splash.’ She paused and chuckled. ‘Splash! Do you get it?’
‘Yes, Bridget, I get it.’
‘You weren’t stalking him, were you, and that’s why you were on the beach at that precise moment?’
‘Of course I bloody wasn’t.’ I was having a ‘grown-up’ conversation with Rufus. ‘I just happened to be taking a walk.’ I threw her a look. ‘Why do you always think the worst of me?’
‘Because I know you,’ she said with a drowsy chuckle, as if I had a history of criminal behaviour, rather than a lack of ambition. Though, in Bridget’s book, they amounted to the same thing. �
�I expect Seth’s going to pay you well for doing up the cottage.’
I focused on a tricky bend. There were no lights on this stretch of road, and the moon had vanished behind some clouds.
‘You could have just accepted some money, without doing any work, but you didn’t and I really admire that, Tilly. Great idea to showcase your talent instead.’
‘Why would I take his money, Bee? Apart from anything else, I don’t need it.’
‘Well, you could have asked him to make a donation to charity,’ she said. ‘You know he’s a patron of Save the Children, and he supports war heroes too?’
‘I didn’t know that.’ Why hadn’t I accepted his suggestion of a donation to charity, instead of persuading him to date my sister?
Suddenly Bridget was upright and I slowed a little, certain she was going to ask whether Seth’s invitation to dinner had been a favour to me, but instead she said, ‘Tilly, do you fancy him yourself?’ She clutched at my arm. ‘I know he’s not your usual type, and you don’t like being around children, but he’s soooooo handsome and famous, and Jack sounds amazing—’
‘I’m not sixteen,’ I said coolly. ‘I don’t fancy Seth Donovan.’ My hammering heart said otherwise, but I wasn’t listening to it. ‘Why would you even think that?’
‘Er, because of everything I just said about him being handsome, et cetera.’ She let go of me and sank back. ‘I know you’re with Rufus, but it wouldn’t be surprising to have a crush on someone like Seth,’ Bridget continued. She turned to me, her eyes illuminated in a flash of headlights coming the other way. ‘I really like him.’
‘Well, that’s good,’ I said crisply. ‘Because he obviously likes you too.’
‘I know.’ She twisted to check on Romy and, before I could begin to process my train of thought, she said, ‘I told him about you and Rufus, and how it’s your first proper relationship and that you’re really making a go of it.’
My grip on the steering wheel momentarily loosened, and the car did a little swerve. ‘You talked to Seth about Rufus and me?’
‘He was really interested.’ She paused to yawn. ‘Asked me what he was like.’
‘What did you say?’
‘That he was a teacher, came highly recommended by our father and that you’re going to a wedding with him on Saturday, which might give you ideas.’
‘Ideas?’
‘About walking down the aisle.’
‘For god’s sake, Bee, can you honestly see me walking down an aisle?’ I felt furious all of a sudden. I hated the idea of her discussing me with Seth behind my back. Or, at least, discussing Rufus and me, when I wasn’t even sure where our relationship was going. ‘We’ve only been seeing each other for a month or so. I’ve never even met his family.’
‘You’ll meet them on Saturday.’ She tried to cross her legs, but there wasn’t enough room, and she gave up. ‘Good idea to see them all together under one roof.’
The thought of it made my scalp itch, and I was grateful that we’d finally arrived home and I didn’t have to respond.
‘Better get Romy into bed.’ I whipped my seat belt off, and before Bridget had time to react I was out of the car and releasing my niece from her seat.
‘Tilly,’ she murmured, her breath sweet and warm on my cheek as I lifted her out. ‘Want a doggy.’
‘Of course you do,’ I whispered, hoping Bridget hadn’t overheard, but she was on the drive in her stockinged feet, shoes dangling from her fingers, gazing up at the sky.
‘It’s snowing,’ she said, with uncharacteristic awe.
Sure enough, white flakes were whirling down, melting on my upturned face. ‘Look!’ I made to show Romy, but she was sleeping again, her cheek pressed into my shoulder, so I made a wish for Jack to open his eyes and look out of the window, and for Seth to be with him when he did.
‘Snow!’ Bridget twirled on her tiptoes, arms outstretched, as if briefly transported back to childhood. ‘A perfect end to a perfect evening,’ she said.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘It really snowed?’ Cassie glanced through the café window, to the distinctly unsnowy view outside.
‘It really did,’ I said gloomily. When I’d got up, after a fidgety night, I’d looked out to see that the world looked much the same as it had the day before – overcast and cold. It was as if Mother Nature had backtracked on a magical promise… or something. Or maybe the fact that I hadn’t slept much accounted for my low mood. ‘Bridget saw it too, so I couldn’t have dreamt it.’
‘Well, they’re still forecasting a white Christmas.’ Cassie fixed me with her big, grey eyes. ‘Wouldn’t it be lovely if it snowed for the party on Christmas Eve?’
‘It would be inconvenient if it meant people couldn’t get here.’ I ignored the pointed way she’d said party on Christmas Eve; a subtle reminder that the function room wasn’t finished. And no one had got back to me about the electrics.
‘I still can’t believe your sister kissed Seth Donovan.’ Meg had returned with a plate of adult-only mince pies bursting with brandy-laced fruit, and planted herself at the table, next to Cassie. ‘The papers would have a field day if they knew.’
‘I don’t think they’d be that interested, to be honest,’ I said. ‘I mean, he’s not David Beckham famous. If you’re not into Formula One, you probably wouldn’t even know who he was.’
‘I’m not into Formula One, but I’ve still heard of Damian Lewis.’
‘You mean Damon Hill,’ I corrected. ‘Damian Lewis is that ginger actor who was in Homeland.’
Meg’s forehead furrowed. ‘I don’t know who Damon Hill is.’
‘Maybe you meant Lewis Hamilton?’
She looked blank. ‘I’ve heard of James Blunt.’
Cassie giggled.
‘He’s a singer,’ I said. ‘And everyone’s heard of James Hunt. He was the bad boy of racing, back in the day.’
‘That’s who I meant.’ Meg looked pleased. ‘I watched a film about him, once.’
‘Your references are really old,’ I grumbled.
‘Someone’s got out of bed the wrong side this morning.’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘Either babysitting has drained you of your life force, or you’re a teensy bit jealous.’
‘I actually liked babysitting,’ I said. ‘And why would I be jealous? Bridget’s a really good match for Seth, and if seeing him keeps her in a good mood, I’m all for it.’
I’d expected her to be at least a little bit hungover at breakfast, but had found her fully dressed (albeit in a pair of Mum’s stretchy trousers and one of Dad’s sweaters) sitting at the kitchen table with a giant mug of tea, softly singing ‘Let it Snow!’ as she watched Romy eating mushed up banana on toast.
‘I woke up to a very lovely text,’ she’d said, but wouldn’t be drawn on the contents. ‘All in good time.’ Tapping the side of her nose, she’d got up with a sparkly-eyed smile and made me some tea. Once I’d got over the shock of her good humour, I’d spent too much time pondering what Seth might have said in his text that couldn’t have waited until they next saw each other. It must have been more than Thanks for the lovely snog, or she wouldn’t have been acting so secretive. I knew better than to probe, and resisted asking as I drove her and Romy to the restaurant to collect her car. She’d enjoy holding back, and I didn’t want her to know how curious I was.
‘Anyway, Tilly’s with Rufus,’ Cassie was saying. I’d filled her in on my trip to his house while we were waiting for Meg to bring her mince pies over, and I began to explain about his botched declaration of love on the café windows.
‘He wrote, I love you Matilda Campbell in purple paint—’
‘Oh my god, that’s so romantic!’ Meg flashed her eyes at Cassie. ‘Remember when Danny wrote that message in the sand, saying he liked you?’
‘I’d hardly forget it.’ She smiled, her eyes going far away. ‘Nobody had ever done anything like that for me before.’
‘Me neither,’ I said, wondering why I didn’t feel as thrilled
about Rufus’s gesture as Cassie still did about Danny’s. Probably because she hadn’t had to clear up the mess afterwards.
‘So, do you think he might be the one?’ Meg prodded, as Cassie crumbled a chunk of mince pie on her plate instead of eating it. ‘I can’t imagine you agreeing to go to his brother’s wedding if you didn’t,’ she answered her own question.
‘How do you even know if someone’s “the one”?’ I scratched speech marks in the air.
‘Well, I’m not the best person to ask.’ Meg shook her shiny hair back, and I wondered how she managed to look so gorgeous all the time. I thought I’d made an effort, dressing in clean jeans and a loose, cream sweater after my shower, but next to Meg, in her fitted white jumper and stripy voile skirt, and Cassie’s dungarees and zebra-print top, I felt like a faded photo. ‘I was all set to marry Sam, a few months ago,’ Meg went on. ‘I thought he was the one for years.’
‘I didn’t know right away that Danny was the one.’ Cassie discreetly pushed her plate aside. ‘He grew on me.’
‘Very quickly,’ I said.
She grinned. ‘That’s how it happens sometimes, I suppose. Or, there’s a catalyst like, maybe you nearly lose someone and it makes you realise how important they are.’
‘And other people know right away,’ offered Meg. ‘It’s like a chemical thing.’
It was obvious I wasn’t going to get the clear-cut answer I’d been hoping for – because there wasn’t one. On the other hand, it was reassuring to know my slightly befuddled feelings weren’t entirely unnatural.
‘Just go to the wedding, and see how you get on,’ Meg said soothingly. ‘Maybe the magic will happen during the couple’s vows, or while you and Rufus are having a smoochy dance.’
Cassie mimed an adoring look at an invisible partner. ‘You’ll gaze into each other’s eyes during a Celine Dion number, and that’ll be the moment you know.’
‘If you hear that I’ve smooched to Celine Dion, you’ll need to stage an intervention,’ I said, pausing at the sight of Gwen behind the counter, in a pair of reindeer antlers, their jaunty bobbing at odds with her stony face.