Lucy’s Book Club for the Lost and Found: A heart-warming feel-good romance novel

by Emma Davies

  And Hattie did look: at her stomach, which now lay flat beneath her ribcage; at her boobs, which nestled inside of her bra instead of trying to escape from it; and at her bum, which might just have less wobble to it than before. She poked an experimental finger at her thighs and lifted one leg to look at the gentle curve of her calf and the slender ankle.

  ‘Holy cow!’ she exclaimed. ‘I have an’ all.’ And she thought back to the countless evenings of late, where she had sat and sewed instead of mindlessly eating biscuits while she watched the television. She thought of the dance classes and all the practice she had done with Lia, now able to keep up with her instead of having to stop every ten minutes or so for a breather. How she had run around chasing Poppy in the park only the day before yesterday without even getting out of breath.

  With the dress around her ankles, she waddled over to the sofa, rooting through the bags until she found the one she was looking for. Sharon was a ten going on twelve, but not quite as tall as Hattie, and not quite as much up top, but still…

  It fitted pretty much perfectly – in fact if anything it was slightly too loose – and Hattie’s heart gave a leap. She could scarcely believe her reflection in the mirror. It was a very long time since she had looked like this, and best of all she hadn’t really tried or noticed it happening. That was the real reason she was so chuffed to bits, because she suddenly realised that her life had turned a corner. She was no longer the sad stay-at-home mum, with hardly any friends and nothing to look forward to. She was no longer the person who quietly ate away her misery, alone in front of the TV. Instead, she was fired with an energy, with a passion that she hadn’t felt since she was much, much younger.

  Her dressmaking success was filling her head with ideas, and the possibilities it suggested for her future stretched out in front of her like glittering stepping stones across a stream. Not only that, but she was enjoying the company of others again, and in Lia and Lucy had found the meaning of friendship once more. She had taken a risk moving here when she did, but now, after only a few short months, things were definitely taking an upwards turn. She turned back to Jules.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked.

  ‘I think you look beautiful,’ Jules replied without hesitation. ‘The colour is perfect – it really suits you. I’m so glad I took your advice. The midnight-blue and silver theme is going to look absolutely stunning, and if we’re lucky enough to get snow as well…’ Her sister beamed at the thought of their sparkly winter wedding.

  ‘Well, I can’t do anything about the weather,’ replied Hattie, smiling. ‘But I do think it’s going to be very special, snow or no snow.’

  She looked at Jules’s generous smile. Perhaps this evening might be the time to broach the subject she had been so worried about bringing up. ‘I don’t know about you, but all this excitement is making me thirsty. Any chance of a cuppa, Jules?’

  She grinned. ‘Yes, me too. I’ll put the kettle on… In fact, it seems a bit ironic now, but I bought a cheesecake as well – I thought it would be nice to have a slice.’

  Hattie returned her smile and nodded enthusiastically. When they were younger it had become a habit for them to meet up a couple of times a week to gossip – usually about work or boyfriends, but always with coffee and cheesecake. The fact that Jules had thought of doing this now said more to her than her words ever could.

  ‘Yes, come on, I think we deserve it,’ she said. ‘Now that we’ve both seen how beautiful we are, a teeny pig-out on cheesecake won’t hurt.’ She let Jules help her out of the dress and returned it carefully to its bag, then pulled her jeans and jumper on with a smile, this time noticing how loose they were against her hips.

  Jules’s kitchen was three times the size of her own, stylishly designed with none of the debris that accompanied motherhood. The cheesecake was already waiting in the middle of the table, and Hattie could feel herself salivating.

  ‘It’s lemon-and-ginger,’ said Jules, handing her a cake slice. ‘And don’t be stingy with the portion size.’

  Hattie didn’t need a second invitation.

  She sat back, waiting for Jules to bring the drinks to the table. It was difficult to know where to begin. Tonight was the perfect opportunity to talk to her sister about her worries but it was also a very special night and she wasn’t sure it was fair to alter the mood. But she didn’t have to; Jules broke the ice for her.

  ‘Things have been pretty pants just lately, haven’t they? Between you and Mum, I mean.’ She handed Hattie a mug. ‘And don’t try and deny it because it’s a difficult subject – I know they have.’

  Hattie wrapped her hands around the warmth of her mug. ‘I just don’t know what I’m supposed to have done wrong, Jules… It’s like she’s blaming me for something all the time, and things never used to be like this. I’m sure they weren’t. I don’t know, but I’m not imagining things; I know I’m not.’

  Jules looked at her, a pained expression on her face. ‘No, you’re not,’ she said. ‘And I haven’t exactly helped, have I? Or been honest with you, either. I should have told you the minute I found out, but Mum was so upset and I—’ She stopped suddenly. ‘I’m so sorry, Hattie. There really is no excuse.’

  Hattie looked up sharply, taken aback by the sudden admission, and bubbles of apprehension began to rise in her stomach. This was beginning to get way bigger than she had imagined. ‘Go on,’ she said slowly.

  ‘The thing is, it isn’t as if it was your fault. You weren’t to know when you said those things – and in fact if you’d known the truth you probably wouldn’t have said them at all. It’s really not fair – and for goodness’ sake it was years ago – but Mum’s being so stubborn about everything, she’s making it a whole lot worse. In fact, lately I think she’s lost the plot altogether.’

  Hattie shook her head. ‘Jules, you’re not making any sense. What on earth are you talking about? And what am I supposed to have said?’

  ‘I’m not supposed to tell you, Mum made me promise, but I can’t bear to walk up the aisle with this still hanging over our heads. I’m only sorry it’s taken me so long to do something about it.’

  ‘Jules!’ Hattie almost shouted, anxiety rising like a tide in her throat. ‘What have I done?’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ‘Does this mean your young man is coming again today?’

  Lia blushed. ‘How many times, Mum? He’s not my young man, he’s just a friend, that’s all.’

  ‘But you’re courting, aren’t you?’

  ‘We’re dancing, Mum, that’s all.’

  ‘Dancing, my eye. In my book that’s still courting.’ She turned to the man standing beside Lia. ‘What do you say, Christopher?’

  Christopher laughed. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment, Rose, but I think it’s high time you allowed me to beat you at snakes and ladders again – come on.’ And with that he led Lia’s mum away, throwing a smile back at Lia over his shoulder.

  She watched them go, a soft expression on her face. A month ago, she would never have believed all this was possible, but the change in her mum had been as dramatic as it had been welcome. In fact, it was scary how fast things had moved since Jasper had first suggested that he help find someone to look after Rose while they practised, and in Christopher he had found the perfect carer. A man in his forties, he had an instant and profound rapport with Rose. He was gentle and considerate, with a wicked sense of humour that Rose loved, but more than anything he had the ability to enter the world that Rose inhabited, even when it differed vastly from reality, and they made their time together an adventure.

  The first week that Jasper had appeared for their ‘lesson’ Lia had cleared out the dining room in advance, relegating to the garage the table and chairs that she never used and pushing the old sideboard and bookcase into a corner. Just these small changes transformed the room into a big enough space for them to dance. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. They had been a little awkward with one another to start with, made nervous by the
informal setting, but after half an hour or so they had begun to relax. So much so, that a sudden voice from the doorway made them both jump out of their skin.

  ‘Arms higher, young man!’ it commanded. ‘You’re leading your lady, not cavorting with her.’

  They had both whirled around to see Rose standing in the doorway, an intense expression on her face.

  ‘Carry on,’ she said, waving her hand at them. ‘It wasn’t all bad.’

  Lia didn’t know how long her mum had been watching them, but from that moment on she did so whenever they danced. Every now and again she became her younger self again, the professional dancer turned teacher, and barked instructions gleefully across the room – although later on she sometimes seemed to have no memory of it at all. Lia was astounded and delighted that watching she and Jasper dance unlocked something within her mother that allowed the old Rose to surface.

  Lia’s only concern was that all this was costing Jasper an inordinate amount of money, but he wouldn’t entertain any discussion on the subject, saying that this was the price they had negotiated for Lia’s help with his dancing and that was all there was to it. It was clear he was a wealthy man, but he drank tea out of Lia’s motley collection of mugs and sat at her scratched table just as happily as if they were eating in the finest restaurant. It seemed to matter little to him, and for that also Lia was immensely grateful.

  Today, Jasper arrived shortly after Christopher and, although he greeted Lia in a cheerful manner, as they started dancing she could see immediately that he was preoccupied. She continued in their routine for a few minutes more before pulling him to a halt.

  ‘Was that as bad as it felt?’ asked Jasper with a grimace.

  ‘Like a duck trying to ride a horse,’ replied Lia, laughing. She looked at Jasper’s serious face and then poked him until he too began to laugh.

  ‘Dare I ask which one of us was the duck?’

  Lia giggled. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘But stop looking at your feet – you know the steps. And you’re doing that counting thing again.’

  ‘Was I?’ Jasper groaned and rubbed his neck. ‘Sorry Lia,’ he added, ‘I just can’t seem to switch off today. It’s been a tough week and I’ve had my ear well and truly bent about how the planning is coming along for the ball. I know there’s only just over a month to go; I don’t need my family reminding me every five minutes.’

  Lia smiled in sympathy. ‘And it’s your day off. You could probably do with the rest.’ She took hold of his hands again. ‘It will be all right, you know.’

  Jasper pulled her into hold. ‘Shall we try it one more time?’ he said, straightening up and attempting to find the right line.

  For a moment, Lia started to compose herself ready to dance but then she suddenly pulled away.

  ‘You know what – I’ve had a better idea.’ She dropped his hands, looking at her watch. ‘Ages ago you told me there was something that you were going to do when you quit your job, something that meant more to you than anything. You also said I would laugh at you, but if I solemnly promise not to, is it something you can show me?’

  Jasper searched her face for a clue as to what she was up to. ‘Possibly,’ he said, ‘but I’m not sure what it’s got to do with anything.’

  ‘Just that you said it was what relaxed you… and I think we need a break from all this; we’re just going round in circles.’

  Predictably Jasper’s head dropped towards the floor.

  ‘I know you’re worried about wasting time, but I honestly think it will do you good. You need to unbend a little bit… if you don’t mind me saying. We could afford to take a couple of hours out, couldn’t we?’

  She could see the indecision written on Jasper’s face, but she also knew that he had come to the same conclusion as she had.

  ‘Well, I suppose it is the weekend,’ he agreed. ‘And I don’t imagine Christopher will mind – he’s on time-and-a-half, after all.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean—’

  Jasper held up a stern hand. ‘Nuh-uh,’ he said. ‘None of that. I’ll just pop and have a word with him. Go and get your coat… and something warm.’

  Twenty minutes later and they were still driving. Lia had her coat, scarf and gloves laid out on the back seat, ready for wherever they were going. Jasper wouldn’t tell her exactly where that was, only that it was ‘the other side of the hill’.

  ‘Are we nearly there?’ she asked. ‘Only… I didn’t really want to put you to all this trouble, I just thought…’

  Jasper’s only reply was a huge grin.

  Lia had no choice but to sit back in the luxurious seat and relax. The scenery was certainly stunning, and it was ages since she’d been able to go on a drive like this. They had turned off the main road some ten minutes ago, and Lia had no idea where she was exactly, but for now she was happy to let the miles slip by.

  ‘Are you ready for this?’ asked Jasper a little while later and Lia sat up straighter as he turned the car between two huge brick pillars.

  ‘Why, what is this place?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ he said, driving on.

  They crossed over a cattle grid onto a smooth expanse of tarmac, which made its way through an avenue of trees before sweeping in a wide arc to arrive in front of what could only be a rather exclusive country hotel. A huge stone portico stood guard at the top of a flight of stone steps, flanked by an array of manicured bay trees and bushes. Above, rose a beautiful red-brick house, its arched windows spreading out on either side – too many for Lia to count.

  Jasper brought the car to a halt just shy of the steps, and by the time Lia had undone her seatbelt he was already out of the car, pulling her door open for her.

  ‘Come on,’ he urged. ‘If we’re quick we might even make feeding time.’

  Lia glanced at her watch. It was indeed approaching lunchtime, but she was struck by Jasper’s odd choice of words. Had he brought her here for a meal? She took his hand and clambered from the car.

  He ran lightly up the steps and was inside before she was even halfway up. She crossed the threshold behind him, tentatively closing the door behind her as she tried to stem the sharp intake of breath.

  She was standing in a marble-tiled hallway, its ceiling high above her, mahogany pillars standing like sentinels at each corner. To her right, an enormous staircase with marble steps and balustrades as tall as her rose majestically, while a huge panelled gallery surrounded her.

  At first, she couldn’t even see Jasper, but then she spotted him casually leaning against a pillar at the far left-hand side of the room. A grin split his face from ear to ear. As soon as he saw that she had spied him, he beckoned her forwards, disappearing through a mahogany door. With a backwards glance, she followed him.

  ‘Jasper, wait a minute!’ she called. ‘Now where have you gone…?’

  Ahead of her another door opened and Jasper’s head appeared. ‘Come on!’ he called, holding out his hand as he waited for her to catch up.

  She grabbed hold of it, knowing that the moment she did so she would be whisked away once more. She scarcely had time to register the grandeur of the room before they were rushing along a narrow corridor, under an arch and through a swing door, stopping finally in the biggest kitchen she had even seen in her life. It was only when Jasper threw his car keys into a copper dish, resting on a huge dresser, that the penny finally dropped. She tugged at his hand.

  ‘Hang on,’ she panted. ‘Please. Stop a minute.’

  She looked at Jasper, standing in the middle of the space, and then at the room itself, which, now that she was focusing on it, was obviously somewhere he was very much at home.

  ‘You live here?’ she asked incredulously, her voice rising by several octaves.

  Immediately Jasper dropped his head, half looking at her from under his lashes, almost shyly. It was something he did whenever he felt unsure of himself, but which gave him a rather endearing look. It was an expression that she was getting pleasantly used to. His eyes scoured the skirting
boards.

  ‘It doesn’t make any difference…’ he said, trailing off.

  Lia waited for him to finish what he was saying, realising after a few moments that he wasn’t going to.

  He held out his hand again. ‘Come on,’ he repeated, ‘or we’ll miss it.’ He gave her a quick smile and lifted her hand in his, looking just for a moment as if he was about to kiss it. Instead, bizarrely, he looked down at her feet. ‘You’ll need some boots,’ he added. ‘Mine will be a bit big, but they’ll have to do.’

  * * *

  Ten minutes later Lia found herself standing on top of a wide grassy hill, bordered on one side by a stand of trees, and on the other a steep slope as the ground dropped away into the distance. They had followed the track up here from the house, but she could still see it in the distance. The Land Rover that had brought them up here must have been older than she was, and what it lacked in comfort it made up for in sheer dogged determination as it crawled up the steep embankment. They had come to rest alongside another ancient farm vehicle and, as Lia clambered out, she noticed a man some distance away, a pair of binoculars to his eyes. Asking her to stay where she was, Jasper made his way over to him.

  The wind was bitter and beginning to make her eyes water, but there was something so timeless about being in this wild space. She could imagine how beautiful it would look on a summer’s day, but even now, with the bare scruffy bleakness of approaching winter, she could see that it was a place to feel free, completely unencumbered from the stresses and strains of daily life. She wondered if this was why Jasper came up here. It occurred to her then that this was probably his land, and she turned to look back at the house. There was no way on earth that it made no difference, whatever Jasper said.

  As she watched she became aware of a distinctive cry, high above her. She might have lived in a small market town most of her life, but surrounded by beautiful Shropshire countryside, she was no stranger to the distinctive cry of buzzards. Except that as she listened now, she realised this couldn’t be a buzzard. The cry was not a single note, but more a series of linked swooping notes, almost akin to a shepherd whistling for his sheepdog. As it continued the two men came hurrying back towards her.