Be Mine: Valentine Novellas to Warm The Heart

by Nicole Flockton

  Meg shrugged. "The trappings and the guest list don't matter much to me, as long as you and Ben are there – and your parents, of course. I know that once Diana has finished, it will be the wedding of the year and everyone will be talking about it for the next few months. If it's so important to her, she can do what she wants." She hesitated. "And I am conscious that she is paying for most of it. If it was up to me, I would get married in the registry office. Perhaps if Sarah..." she began but lowered her head, intent on picking her bread to pieces.

  Chris knew what she had been going to say. If Sarah had still been around to be her matron of honour and fuss about her dress and the flowers, it would have been different. Instead she had to make do with Robert's vacuous sister, Helen, a girl with whom she shared nothing in common. He wondered why she hadn't asked another friend to step in. Since Sarah's death, Meg seemed to have totally lost interest in the wedding.

  "I suppose Diana is planning something ghastly for Ben to wear?" he asked as the waiter set the steaming bowls of minestrone down on their table.

  Meg smiled. "Velvet pantaloons and little slippers."

  Chris pulled a face. "Poor little chap." He stopped in the act of lifting the spoon to his mouth. "She doesn't have similar plans for the groomsmen, does she?"

  Meg looked up and laughed. "Oh, I would so like to see you in velvet pantaloons. How is Ben?"

  "He's fine. Kate's taken him to the zoo today. You really found a treasure there, Meg."

  Meg blushed at his praise. "If you only you know how many girls I had to interview to find her."

  Chris tapped his spoon on the plate. "I almost forgot, if you and Robert are free this Saturday you are invited to a party — Doug and Marie's housewarming."

  Meg's spoon stopped mid-air. "Oh, your friends from law school. I haven't seen them since—"

  The funeral. She'd been going to say Sarah's funeral. He hadn't been there. He had still been on life support in the hospital. The thought froze him for a long moment.

  He cleared his throat and took a spoonful of the hearty soup. "I have to face the old crowd sooner or later and it seemed like the right time. Robert knows them of course, and personally, it will be a hell of a lot easier with a couple of familiar faces there, so I hope you can come."

  "Of course... oh wait, Robert has a dreary dinner with some of his firm colleagues on Saturday night. No women." She pulled a face.

  Chris considered her for a long moment. "If you’re free why don’t you come without him. You’ll know plenty of people.”

  She nodded. “That would be nice. I think I need a night out.”

  A palpable sense of relief washed over him. He had been dreading walking alone into a social gathering for the first time without Sarah by his side.

  "What about Ben?" Meg asked.

  "Kate's already agreed to babysit, so I'm a free man." Chris glanced at his watch. "Sorry, Meg, no time for coffee, I have to be back in court."

  "What time shall I pick you up?"

  As he pushed back the chair, he said, "No. I'll pick you up."

  Meg's eyes widened. "You've bought a car?"

  He nodded. "I'm getting it tomorrow."

  Another hurdle to cross. He hadn't driven since that night... the night a drunk driver had run a red light.

  He paid the bill and they walked back to chambers.

  "Do you mind if I stay and watch for a bit? My appointment with the bridal registry is not till three," Meg said as she watched him robe again.

  Chris settled the wig on his head and shrugged. "It's a deadly dull little case, but you're welcome."

  Back in Court Three, Meg slipped into the visitors’ bench as Chris rose to his feet ready to do battle once more with the witness.

  "Nice car," Meg remarked as she settled into the leather seat of the dark blue BMW.

  Chris turned the key in the ignition and it sprang to life, purring softly.

  He glanced at her, "Not chosen for its good looks," he said.

  She understood. He wanted a car that had been built to survive being hit by a tank, and this one fitted the bill.

  "It was time to get back behind the wheel. I couldn't have you playing my chauffeur for the rest of my life," he said.

  "I have enjoyed playing your chauffeur," Meg said, but she couldn't help noticing the sharp intake of breath and his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly the knuckles shone white. It must have taken a sheer force of will to put himself behind the driving wheel again.

  At every intersection, he stopped long enough to check traffic in all directions several times, prompting impatient drivers behind him to hit their horns.

  They didn't know, could never understand.

  They had to park some way from the house in the trendy inner-city suburb. Meg noticed, but did not comment, on the absence of the stick as they walked up to the front door. Chris walked with a measured step, his limp now barely perceptible, as if tonight marked an important milestone, the start of life without Sarah.

  Doug met them at the door, a glass of champagne in his hand and a grin on his face.

  "Chris! Great to see you mate!" He clapped Chris companionably on the shoulder. "You look well and Meg," Doug claimed the host's right of a kiss. "You look good, Meg. What have done with old Robbie boy tonight?"

  "At a firm dinner. He sends his apologies and a message that you must catch up with him for lunch."

  "Chris, how wonderful. It's really great to see you." Doug's wife Marie had joined them. "We thought we should have one last fling before the baby." She rested her hand on the round expanse of her pregnant belly.

  "Here!" Doug waylaid a waiter carrying a tray of drinks. "Have a drink."

  Meg took the proffered glass of champagne, Chris took a glass of mineral water.

  "I'm driving," he said in reply to Doug's raised eyebrow.

  Marie tucked her arm into Meg's and drew her into the living room, leaving Chris to a circle of fellow barristers.

  "So, Meg, it's great to see Chris getting out again. How long has it been since the accident?"

  "Just over ten months," Meg replied.

  Ten months. It still felt as raw and horrible as if it had happened last week.

  Marie nodded. "Coming up for the anniversary is always a difficult time. But it is nice to have something to look forward to—your wedding. Although Christmas Eve is a terrible day for a wedding."

  Meg nodded. "I know, but Robert has to be back in London for a big case mid-January and it really was the only time we could fit it in and have a honeymoon on our way to the UK."

  Marie shook her head. "How I envy you. The jet-setting life from now on. London, New York. No more grubby students—"

  "I like my grubby students," Meg protested, and Marie laughed.

  "Where are you going to live in London?"

  "Robert has a flat in Kensington. I suppose we'll live there!"

  "Kensington!" From the dreamy look in her eyes, Marie had transported herself in her imagination. "Oh, you are so lucky. The shopping, the theatres. Just imagine! Look at you. How can you look so calm?"

  Meg took another sip of champagne and grabbed a pastry from a passing tray. How could she look so calm? To be perfectly honest, she was far from calm. She loved her job at the university and had negotiated a leave of absence to work on her PhD, rather than a straight resignation. The great plus to going to London was the easy access to the great galleries that she had only glimpsed on the obligatory post-university overseas trip.

  A woman's braying laugh cut across the crowded room and Meg looked across at the circle that included Chris. The woman in deep conversation with him was nearly as tall as he was, a willow-slim blonde, dressed in an expensive bright yellow dress. Her legs, arms and face were perfectly tanned and long red nails circled the stem of the champagne glass she held.

  "Who is that talking to Chris?" Meg asked.

  Marie followed her gaze. "Oh, she's from the London office of Doug's law firm. Elizabeth Fleming. She's English but
don't hold that against her. Gorgeous, isn't she? Makes me sick." Marie's fingers played across her pregnant stomach and she sighed. "I have to say they look good together, don't they?"

  They did. They looked perfect, the tall dark-haired man and the elegant blonde. Sarah used to joke that Chris only had eyes for blondes and Meg felt a sickening lurch in the pit of her stomach which she recognised, with surprise, as jealousy.

  Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. You can't be jealous. You're getting married in four weeks.

  Marie leaned in and lowered her voice. "When Chris said he could come, I immediately though of Liz. She's only been here two months on exchange from the London office and doesn't know a soul. I thought a bit of match-making..." She gave Meg a conspiratorial wink.

  Meg stared at her. "It's a bit soon, Marie."

  "Nonsense!" Marie laid her hand on Meg's arm. "She's very nice. You'll like her once you get to know her. Come and meet her."

  “I don't think we should interrupt," Meg protested.

  Too late, Marie grabbed Meg's arm, all but dragging her across the floor to where Chris and Elizabeth Fleming were engaged in animated conversation. The blonde's red tipped fingers moved expressively in the air as she illustrated whatever point she was making.

  Marie all but flung Meg at the tall blonde. "Liz, I'd like you to meet Meg Taylor."

  Liz extended a long elegant hand and said in an upper-class English accent that immediately grated on Meg. "Oh, Chris was just telling me all about you."

  "Nice things I hope."

  Although reasonably tall at five feet eight inches, Meg still felt intimidated by tall women and Liz Fleming seemed to tower over her. The six-inch heels the woman wore didn’t help

  Liz smiled at Chris. "Chris was just telling me you are going to London in a few weeks."

  Meg cast Chris a curious glance. He was talking about her? "My fiancé is based there. He works with Alcott and Underwood," she said.

  Liz raised a perfectly sculptured eyebrow. "Oh, I may know him. What's his name?"

  "Robert Ahearn."

  The blonde gave that horsey bray of laughter that had caught Meg's attention earlier. "Isn't it a small world? I've met Robert a couple of times. Is he here?" She looked over Meg's head, scanning the crowd.

  "No, he's at a firm dinner," Meg said and added, because it was expected, "And what sort of law do you practice?"

  "Commercial mainly. Banking, that sort of thing." Liz waved a hand to indicate that it was beyond Meg to understand the finer points of what she did. "What do you do?"

  "I tutor in fine arts at the University of Melbourne," Meg said.

  "An academic!" Liz exclaimed. "How quaint. What will you do when you get to London?”

  "I'll be working on a PhD—" Meg began but they were interrupted by a waiter carrying a tray of drinks.

  Liz took two glasses of champagne, holding one out for Chris.

  He declined and asked for a mineral water.

  Liz clucked her tongue. "It really is excellent bubbles, Chris. My father said never trust a man who doesn't drink."

  Chris shook his head. "I'm driving."

  "Well, one glass isn't going hurt."

  "Thank you, but I don't drink when I drive." Chris’s good humour seemed to have drained from him and he suddenly looked very pale and tired. "Would you excuse me for a moment, I've just got to remind Doug about a... a case we're working on."

  "Did I say something?" Liz, still holding the two glasses of champagne, watched as Chris pushed through the crowd.

  Meg reached out and relieved her of one of the glasses, taking a hefty swig.

  "His wife was killed in a car accident ten months ago. They were driving home from a night out with some friends and they were hit by a drunk driver."

  Beneath her tan, Liz paled, her eyes widening in genuine horror. "Oh God, why didn't someone tell me? Poor man. Was he badly injured?"

  Meg nodded. "His left leg was broken in six places, internal injuries. They didn't think he'd pull though."

  Liz took a long draught of champagne. "He has a child, he was telling me. Was he with them?"

  Meg shook her head. "No. He was with me. I was babysitting. It's been nice meeting you, Elizabeth."

  Excusing herself, she went in search of the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the bath, tears spilling into the half-drunk glass of champagne. It didn't take much, just a thoughtless comment, for all the pain to return.

  3

  Diana rang Meg on Thursday. "Just a reminder, dear. You have a fitting this afternoon. You’ll need you to bring the boy."

  Meg had forgotten, and her protests about the shortness of the notice fell on deaf ears. She rang Chris, who sounded as annoyed as she felt.

  "I love the way we are all at the beck and call of Diana Ahearn," he grumbled. "Ben's at kindergarten. You'll need to let Kate know that you will be collecting him."

  "I’ll drop him home about six. Perhaps after that we get pizza?" Meg suggested.

  "Fine with me. Got to go—due back in court," Chris snapped and hung up.

  Meg picked Ben up from the kindergarten. The boy ran up to her, clutching a large plastic dinosaur.

  "I haven't seen him before." Meg held out her hand for the toy as she buckled the boy into the booster seat she kept for him in the back of her little car. "What is he?"

  Ben gave her the look of resigned exasperation he kept for the congenitally stupid.

  "Don't you know anything? He's a Tyrannosaurus Rex."

  "Oh!" Meg was impressed by the five-year old’s in-depth knowledge of dinosaurs. "Did Dad give him to you?"

  There was a momentary hesitation. "No, the lady did."

  "What lady?" Meg tried not to sound too curious.

  "The lady who came around to see Dad."

  "Do you remember her name?"

  She glanced in the rear vision mirror in time to see Ben screw up his face in concentration.

  "Her name was Elizabeth. She had long red nails and she smelt funny."

  Meg's lips tightened. Liz Fleming.

  "When was this?" She tried to keep her tone casual.

  Ben shrugged. "Couple of nights ago."

  "Well it was nice of her to give you a present. Did she stay long?"

  Meg knew cross examination of a five-year-old was not fair, but curiosity had the better of her.

  Ben shook his head. "They had wine. I was watching TV. She made him laugh."

  Meg's breath stopped in her throat. Elizabeth Fleming had not only tried to buy Ben's affection with a dinosaur, but she had made Chris laugh.

  No, she told herself, this has to be a good thing - for them all.

  She arrived at the dress maker's salon and found Diana already waiting, along with Helen and Helen's ghastly offspring, four-year-old Lucy who was promising to be the splitting image of her grandmother in looks and temperament.

  Diana smiled at Ben. "Now, Ben, you remember Lucy, don't you? She's going to be the flower girl. You and Lucy will be walking down the aisle in front of Meg and Robert and you will hold Lucy's hand."

  Ben's eyes widened and he stared at Diana. "Hold her hand?"

  "Yes, dear."

  "Do you really expect Ben to hold Lucy's hand?"

  "Of course. It will look so sweet."

  Meg gave Ben a sympathetic smile and a shrug. There was no arguing with Diana Ahearn.

  Diana's attention turned to Meg. "Now Meg, Violetta’s waiting for you."

  The wedding dress hung in the dressing room. Meg looked at it and sighed. It was not really her taste, too frilly and flouncy, but as in everything to do with her wedding, it seemed she had little say in its ultimate choice. With the dressmaker's assistance, she put it on and stepped outside the booth to the exultant cries of Diana of Helen.

  "Oh, you look beautiful, Meg. Just beautiful."

  "What do you think, Ben?" Meg twirled to demonstrate the dress.

  Ben regarded her seriously for a moment. "You look a bit like an ice cream," he said at last.


  "No, she doesn't!" Diana said, her shoulders stiffening. "She will be the most beautiful bride ever, won't she Ben?"

  Ben shrugged and returned to terrorising Lucy with the Tyrannosaurus Rex.

  Meg stood on the raised platform while Violetta pinned and tacked around her. Helen folded herself on to the gilded sofa next to her mother and took a sip of the cheap sparkling wine Violetta had provided.

  She leaned towards her mother. "Mummy, I have some delicious gossip for you," she said.

  Diana tore her eyes away from her vision of bridal perfection. "Gossip dear?"

  "I was lunching at Firenze's yesterday and who do you think I saw? Chris Kingsley. He had this absolutely stunning blonde with him and they were looking very friendly."

  "Relax," Violetta grumbled to Meg. "Just stand still. I nearly pricked you."

  "Really?" Diana sounded genuinely interested. "A blonde? Do you know who she is, Meg?"

  Meg knew exactly who Chris had been lunching with. "A business associate," she replied, trying to sound calm and disinterested. "Elizabeth Fleming. She's a lawyer in Doug's firm, out from London, probably briefing him on something."

  "Well, she did not look at him as if she was briefing him," Helen said with a sly smile.

  "Good to hear," Diana pronounced. "It's about time Chris started taking an interest in the world again. Should I invite her to the wedding, Meg?"

  Agonised and immobile, Meg glared down at Diana. "Oh, I think it's a little early for that."

  "Nonsense! It may help spur things a long a little. Now, Benjamin, just see what I have for you to wear!"

  Ben stared in horror at the green velvet suit and the shirt with its frills and flounces.

  "I'm not wearing that," he said flatly.

  "Diana," Meg protested. "It is a little over the top. Ben will look like Little Lord Fauntleroy."

  "Nonsense. Lucy is wearing this white dress with a green sash and green slippers. They will look lovely together. Lucy likes her dress don't you precious?"

  Lucy nodded smugly. Ben cast a frantic look at Meg.

  "It will only be for a little while, Ben. Will you wear it for me, please?" Meg pleaded, unequal to any further argument with her future mother-in-law.