'That's just silly.'
'I wasn't thinking clearly. Love makes us do crazy things. Feel crazy things. I mean look at the way we've both been behaving this week. We've both been more than a little crazy.'
She nodded. 'Ain't that the truth?'
'And I'm still waiting for an answer, Ella.'
'An answer? To what? Oh God! Yes! Yes of course I'll marry you, you idiot.'
He raised his brows. 'Not quite the romantic acceptance I'd hoped for but I'll take it.'
She ran to him, yanked him to his feet, and threw herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as she kissed him.
'Better?'
He smiled. 'Much. You definitely want to marry me? To spend the rest of your life with me? Because that's what this means, Ella.'
'Try and stop me. I'll drag you down the aisle if I have to.'
He laughed. 'Bully. So, shall I book one week in Margate, or really splash out and make it two?'
'Why go all the way to Margate when there's a perfectly good beach right here? And a pub that serves great food and a shop nearby that sells the most delicious cheese. I happen to know of a cosy little thatched cottage that I'm sure we can get. It's called Sunbeam Cottage and I think we can have it for more than two weeks.'
'Sounds like heaven.'
'It is, Gill. Pure, unadulterated heaven. And it will be. For ever and ever.'
He gave another little cough before smiling into her eyes as he slipped the ring on her finger.
'Ella, will you please come with me so that I can make mad, passionate love to you?' His smile grew wider. 'Did I get that right?'
'Word perfect, Gill. But then you are, aren't you? Perfect, I mean. Absolutely, bloody perfect.'
Chapter Eighteen
Tabbie stopped on the village green, a short distance away from Lake's Bakes and watched as the stunning girl with the wild red hair, stood with her back to Justin, who was twirling her tresses into what appeared to be a casual bun. Both of them were laughing and judging by the playful slaps they were giving one another it was clear that these two were more than just friends. They were close. Very close.
A wave of disappointment swept over her and for a moment she hesitated. Part of her wanted to turn and walk away. But she had told Aurelia she was going out to get some cakes and it would be both rude and unreasonable to return empty handed.
Since the evening of her accident, Tabbie had been hoping to bump into Justin again. She had hoped he might call round to see what had happened regarding her car. But he hadn't.
She had planned to go to Little Pond Farm, which was where Aurelia had told her he was staying – looking after Jet and Mia's dog, apparently, but as yet, she hadn't made it. She had asked Aurelia where he lived and for how long he would be in Little Pondale. All Aurelia had said was that she wasn't sure where Justin called home right now and had no idea how long he'd be staying.
'You'll need to ask him if you want to know the answers to those questions,' Aurelia had said.
Which seemed a little odd, even for Aurelia. But then in the few days Tabbie had known her, there was one thing she had learnt. Aurelia was a little odd. Perhaps more than just a little.
Tabbie had spent so much time with Aurelia, listening to her fascinating tales, and then even more time with Gill, researching Aurelia's line, that she had hardly been away from Witt's Cottage. She had only been to The Frog and Lily once, which was the day she met Gill there to ask for his help. She'd met hardly anyone from the village, apart from the three 'boys' and Alexia, the barmaid at the pub. She'd been so happy when she spotted Ella.
But that meeting hadn't gone quite as she had hoped, although Ella seemed a little more friendly by the time she had rushed off into Sunbeam Cottage, so perhaps there was hope for a future friendship.
Not that Tabbie planned to be around for that much longer. She'd finally heard back from her insurers and they'd agreed to a courtesy car. But Justin had been correct when he'd said he thought her car would probably be a write-off. It wasn't only her bonnet that had been dented when she'd driven into Aurelia's pond. There must have been some rocks hidden in those murky waters because the length of her exhaust pipe had cracks in several places, both front axles had been broken, together with the radiator and the steering shaft, plus lots of other moving – or now not moving – parts would need replacing. Added to that the cost of drying it out and having it professionally cleaned, and the insurers had decided it wasn't worth the cost.
She didn't relish the prospect of finding another car, but she could think about that later. For now all she could think about was that she wished she could be in that redhead's shoes. Justin had swept the woman up in his arms and was twisting her around the small empty space in the corner of the bakery. The woman must be Jenny. And from the look of it, Justin was interested in more than Jenny's cream buns.
Tabbie stepped carefully between several puddles. If there was more rain and these pools of water joined up, it would be difficult to see where the village pond began or ended. All the ground around was saturated. Thank goodness Aurelia had lent her some wellies.
She glanced up at the sign swinging outside the bakery as she got nearer. Where had the name, Lake's Bakes come from? The village green looked a little like a lake right now, but surely it couldn't be because of that? Aurelia had said she hadn't seen rain like this for many years, and that sign was clearly fairly new.
Lake's Bakes had a jolly sound. Perhaps the baker's surname was Lake. Perhaps–
Tabbie stopped in her tracks.
Justin Lake, the Hollywood star had been a baker in a small village somewhere on the south coast. Tabbie had read that in a magazine.
It couldn't be. Surely all the villagers would be crowding around, making a fuss of him and telling all and sundry that he was here.
And yet. She had seen the likeness immediately the night they met. His name was Justin. He was staying at his friend's farmhouse. And she was standing outside a bakery called Lake's Bakes. That many coincidences added up to one big fact. Justin was Justin Lake, Hollywood heartthrob, tipped to be a superstar. The man had the world at his feet. And women too.
Was he waving?
Yes, he was. He had put Jenny down and he was waving.
Tabbie swivelled to her left and then her right but there was no one else in sight.
He was waving at her.
Her knees wobbled, her legs had turned to rock and her wellies were held in a firm grip by the mud, or so it seemed.
He pushed open the door and beamed at her.
'You'll get soaked,' he shouted.
She hadn't even noticed it had started raining again.
'Quick,' Jenny yelled. 'Come in out of this weather.'
She managed to free her wellies and she dashed towards the door, tripping over the step and colliding headlong into Justin's chest.
'Great catch,' said Jenny.
'Are you okay?' Justin bent his knees to bring himself to Tabbie's eye level.
'Yes. I'm so sorry. It's these wellingtons. They're not mine. Did I hurt you?'
'He's built like a tanker. It'll take more than a damsel in distress to hurt him.'
'I'm fine, thanks.' Justin threw Jenny a sarcastic smile.
'I hope you don't mind me asking,' Jenny said, 'but why were you standing outside in the rain?'
'Oh. I got my boot caught in the mud.'
'I see. I'm Jenny. Jenny Lake. You must be Tabbie. Lovely to meet you at last. How's your car?' Jenny smiled at her.
'A write-off. Did you say, Jenny Lake?'
Jenny gave Justin an apologetic look. 'Yeah. And by the look on your face you've clearly put two and two together. No one was supposed to know. Sorry Justin.'
Justin shrugged. 'Don't worry about it. It was bound to come out sooner or later. But I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone, Tabbie. I wanted to take a short break and also to help out a friend. The last thing I want is to flood this village with paparazzi and the like. It's
a lot to ask, I suppose, but can we count on your discretion?'
So Justin Lake had a wife. A wife he kept hidden in his home village. A wife who still ran their bakery.
Breaking that news would be a real sensation – and a major boost for her blog, Tabbie Talbaine's Tasty Titbits. She could see the headline now.
'I'll make it worth your while,' Justin added. 'Please Tabbie. You'd be doing me a massive favour. And Jenny too. The last thing she wants is to be bombarded with questions about me.'
'Please, Tabbie,' Jenny pleaded. 'This is such a tiny, tranquil village. It would be ruined if the media heard Justin was here.'
Tabbie knew what it was like to have the media intruding into one's private life. But unlike herself and her mother, Justin wanted fame and fortune. Didn't press coverage go hand and hand with that? Both good and bad. Wasn't that all part and parcel of the Hollywood lifestyle?
But why was his wife content to stay in this village when Justin was in L.A. living life to the full? And from the things Tabbie had read about him, loving several women in the process.
'I have a blog. A fairly popular one. It's called Tabbie Talbaine's Tasty Titbits. I write about anything and everything that interests me and may interest my readers and I add a recipe or two and some bits of gossip.'
Neither Jenny or Justin looked happy.
'So what you're saying is you're going to post about this because it's far too good an opportunity to miss. Is that it?' Justin definitely wasn't pleased.
'No. You're correct though. It is a fabulous scoop. And one it's going to be incredibly hard for me not to write about. But I know what it's like to face unwanted media attention and you did come to my rescue and extract my car from its watery grave. I'll admit it's killing me to say this, but I'll make you a deal. If you give me an interview for my blog and let me have some gossip that no one else knows about you, I won't say where we were when you gave me the interview and I won't mention this village or this bakery or Jenny.'
Both Jenny and Justin looked astonished.
'That's it? You don't want anything else?'
Tabbie shook her head. 'That's it. But you'd better be quick before I change my mind.'
'Justin. For heaven's sake. Agree to do it.'
'Okay. It's a deal.'
Tabbie was probably going to regret this. But Jenny and Justin were happy. Although not as ecstatic as Tabbie would have expected. Jenny merely slapped him on the arm and Justin pulled a face at her. Strange behaviour for a husband and wife whose secret had just been preserved.
'Good. Then perhaps we could meet later today and get started on the interview. In the meantime, I'd like two of your coffee-iced cream buns please, Jenny. They come highly recommended. Gill says they're to die for.'
'I don't know about that but they are pretty good, if I do say so myself. And you can put your purse away. They're my treat. It's the least I can do to say thank you.'
'And what about if I cook you dinner tonight?' Justin offered. 'I would buy you dinner at the pub but it's a bit noisy in there to do an interview. I'll pick you up at seven.'
'Oh. If that's all right with Jenny, that would be lovely.'
Jenny shrugged. 'It's fine with me. And he's a good cook, not just a brilliant baker. Oh, and a fantastic actor, of course.' Jenny handed her a box. 'And it's stopped raining again for a while by the looks of it, so that's more good news.'
'I'll dash off then before it starts again. I'll see you at seven.'
'Have fun,' Jenny said, as Justin held the door open for Tabbie to pass. 'I hope I'll see you again soon.'
That was a strange thing to say because surely they'd be seeing each other at dinner?
Chapter Nineteen
Little Pond Farm was nothing like Tabbie had expected and as they approached the Georgian farmhouse via the long drive, the surprise of seeing such a grand house, having spent the day walking around a village packed with thatched cottages and flower-filled gardens straight from a chocolate box cover, actually made her gasp.
Justin smiled. 'It's a beautiful house, isn't it?'
'And so unexpected. I thought it would be smaller. And older. I think I was expecting it to be of a similar ilk to the rest of the village.'
'This house was built on the site of a Tudor farmhouse, which was destroyed by fire but there's been a farm here since the Iron Age, it's believed. When Jet and I were small kids there was an archaeological dig just yards from the house, over there by the pond.' He nodded towards the field to their left. 'They found traces of a Roman villa, built on an even earlier Iron Age settlement, but not enough was discovered to warrant preservation. Jet's got a map and documents giving more details. He'll show them to you when he gets back, if you're interested.'
She was definitely interested. Who wouldn't be? But Jet wasn't back for another week and she would probably have returned home to London by then.
'I'd love to see them, but I'm not sure I'll be here by the time he gets back.'
'Oh? You're not sticking around then?'
She shook her head. 'No. Only until Gill and I finish our research and we're making such good progress that I don't think it'll be many more days until I have everything I need.'
'Lucky you.' He grinned at her as they pulled up outside the porticoed entrance. 'Very few people have everything they need.'
She smiled. 'I meant in relation to the project I'm working on. I'm writing a blog about witches, and one witch in particular, Jennet de Witt.'
'Aurelia's ancestor? And Aurelia knows about this?'
'Yes. Why does that surprise you?'
He shook his head as he got out of the car and when he held open her door for her his expression was thoughtful.
'I suppose it's because for as long as I've known her, Aurelia's always shunned attention. Of any sort. Half the village forgets she's there most of the time – and that's because she prefers it that way. She keeps herself to herself and if she didn't love fresh milk, and hadn't become addicted to Jet's cheese, I don't think many of us would see her from one year to the next. She doesn't even like people popping in to visit. Unless they've been invited.' He smiled. 'Which doesn't happen often, believe me.'
'Gosh. So my arrival must have turned her world upside down. No wonder she was rather unpleasant to me – until she realised who I was. But she can't always have been like that. She and my mother are friends and many years ago, long before I was born, they were very close. They were both student nurses at Guy's Hospital in London so Aurelia can't have been a hermit in those days. My mother wouldn't have let her.'
Justin looked surprised as they walked towards the house. He opened the large, black front door which led into an expansive hall with an ornate chandelier in the centre. It was an impressive entrance but Tabbie had seen entrances far superior to this in her time. What struck her about this one was that a feeling of warmth swept over her, not from the heat of the fire she could see burning in the large hearth in the sitting room to her left, but as a sensation. A welcome feeling. As if the house itself had given her a hug.
'I don't know what she was like back then,' Justin said, 'and I didn't know she'd trained as a nurse. But she's been this way since I was old enough to talk. To be honest, when she called and asked us to get your car out of her pond, we were surprised to find she hadn't done away with you. Here, let me take your coat.'
'You're joking of course. Aren't you?'
He nodded. 'Yeah. Although …'
Tabbie laughed as she took off her new raincoat – one of the many items she'd purchased only hours earlier. She hadn't planned to be staying in Little Pondale and therefore hadn't brought a change of clothes and since her rescue, she'd either been wearing clothes lent to her by Aurelia, or the clothes she'd worn the day she arrived. But as they had been washed and dried and re-worn twice already, she was beginning to think that a shopping expedition was in order.
Justin's sudden invitation to dinner had solidified that thought and she had dashed to the nearest town, which was half
an hour away by minicab, and bought the raincoat, a couple of dresses, two pairs of jeans, three blouses, one skirt and – in case June ever did hit the temperature it should while she was here, a pair of shorts.
Two pairs of sandals, a handbag, some items of make-up and a few pieces of jewellery added to her haul and by the time she had finished she had so many bags that she could hardly carry them to Witt's Cottage, the cab driver having dropped her off where he had picked her up: at the junction of Seaside Road and Aurelia's private lane – if one could call it that.
'There's no way on God's Earth you're getting a cab up that mud track, love,' she'd been told by the cab company she called, as Aurelia had already warned her. 'We'll pick you up on Seaside Road and that's where any cab you call, will also drop you off. Take it from me, love, there ain't enough dough in the whole of Italy to persuade anyone otherwise.'
Quite what dough or Italy had to do with it, Tabbie had no idea, but the cab company she had telephoned, after searching for one via the internet, was called Carlotta's Cabs so perhaps the owners were of Italian origin.
The courtesy car from her insurance company still hadn't arrived by the time she returned to Witt's Cottage and frankly, she was beginning to wonder if it ever would.
'Wow!' Justin said, his eyes alight with obvious admiration. 'You look amazing.'
'Thank you.'
She felt amazing. It was good to get dressed up once in a while and since her break-up with her last boyfriend she hadn't really done that. She'd tried to keep herself busy writing, researching and reading and on the few occasions she had gone out, she had either been with close friends, or her mother, so her outfits had been more casual and her make-up minimal. But she had wanted to make more of an effort for this dinner. After all, it wasn't every day that she was invited to dine with a Hollywood star and his wife. Although she had dined with several minor celebrities.
She'd actually been both a little surprised and disappointed when Justin had turned up at Aurelia's door looking smart but casual. His black trousers were clearly designer but they were day-wear, not formal, and his pale lilac shirt was cotton and definitely casual. Expensive without a doubt but again, not a garment she was expecting a star like Justin Lake to wear.
Secret Wishes and Summer Kisses on Lily Pond Lane Page 11
