‘OK,’ Gracie said slowly, clearly not seeing Lizzie’s logic. ‘And Jude. You like him?’
‘Of course I do. But Jude is separate from all this – incidental. I met Jude because I was here. He’s certainly not part of the gamble you think I’m taking.’
‘And you’re certain about him? His intentions?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘Only, after what happened…’
‘Not Evan again. Can’t I be allowed to forget about him? I’m not stupid enough to be caught out like that again.’
‘That’s good.’
Lizzie picked up the placemats and together they began to walk back to the caravan. ‘So go on, because I know you want to tell me. Why did you have a moment when you first met him?’
‘A moment? Did I?’
‘You know you did. Like you already knew him from somewhere.’
‘Oh, that,’ Gracie said, with what seemed to Lizzie forced carelessness. ‘I thought I recognised him.’
‘What? Any idea where it might be from?’
‘Not really.’
‘Might it be recently?’
‘Perhaps…’ Gracie said carefully.
‘You do know. Tell me, what’s there to be cagey about?’
‘I saw a man at the supermarket the other day who looked very like him. Not with Charlie, though, and you said he goes everywhere with Charlie.’
‘He could have been without Charlie, I suppose,’ Lizzie said. ‘They’re not joined at the hip, and I know he spends a lot of time with Harriet.’ Why was she suddenly so uneasy about this? Why did she feel such a pressing need to get to the bottom of this mystery?
‘Harriet?’
‘His ex. The girl he has a son with.’
‘Hmm.’ Gracie was uncharacteristically short of a reply and Lizzie’s stomach dropped.
‘Was he with Harriet at the supermarket?’
‘He was with a woman and a child. I expect that was her.’
‘I expect they go out a lot together.’
‘Do you really think that’s OK?’
‘They have a child together.’
‘But she doesn’t need him to go shopping with her just because they have a child together.’
‘He’s just like that. He likes to help people.’
‘They looked very friendly.’
‘They are good friends.’
‘Lizzie…’ Gracie paused. ‘They looked like a couple.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Lizzie asked sharply.
Gracie shrugged.
‘Gracie, you can’t serve me half a tale! If you know something or you’ve seen something then I deserve to know it too! What makes you say that they looked like a couple? Were they kissing? Holding hands or something?’
‘No, of course not,’ Gracie said, looking a little more uneasy in her evaluation now. ‘They were just… close. You know, comfortable with each other. Laughing a lot. Like couples do.’
‘They’re old friends; I suppose they have a lot of history and they’re comfortable with each other because of that,’ Lizzie said firmly, though her performance of conviction was more for herself than Gracie. ‘Harriet spent some time with us at the river recently and I could see for myself that they get along brilliantly.’
‘And they used to be a couple as well, didn’t they?’ Gracie asked. ‘Perhaps…’
Lizzie shook her head. ‘They’re not now. Harriet’s got a new boyfriend and Jude says she’s really into him. Harriet and Jude are just not interested in each other in that way anymore.’
But she paused, her gaze suddenly concentrated on the scene of the half-cleared table just visible through the caravan window, warm lights bathing the space, the candles on the table now burned down to stumps, and she felt her world shift, just a little. She’d know, wouldn’t she? She’d know if Jude was keeping secrets? She wasn’t stupid enough to get caught out again – that’s what she’d just told Gracie.
She gave her head a tiny shake. Surely Charlie would have given the game away if there was anything to know, even if Jude was trying to hide anything from her. Charlie couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it. Jude and Harriet had been close that day at the river, but it was nothing more than friendship. And there was Damon too. Harriet might have been good friends with Jude, but she had a new boyfriend now.
‘Listen – ignore me,’ Gracie said, forcing a smile. ‘Frank’s done nothing for my faith in men. I’m sure if Jude says it’s all over then it is. And I didn’t see any actual physical contact as such…’
‘But if you thought I could be wrong? If you had any doubts—’
‘I’d tell you – of course I would. I’m sure it’s fine.’
Lizzie nodded slowly. Gracie studied her for a moment, but then she got up.
‘We’d better get cleaned up or every fox for miles around will be sniffing round after the leftovers,’ she said.
Lizzie watched as she went outside and started to gather up the detritus of their dinner party. Did Gracie think she’d said more on the matter than she ought to? Did she think she ought to keep her nose out? It wasn’t like her if that was the case – Gracie usually had an opinion and she usually loved to express it. Maybe Lizzie needed to hear it this time too, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to push it. It might lead to another disagreement, and there was no telling where this one might end. Even if it didn’t lead to an argument between her and Gracie, it might just raise doubts about Jude that were unfair and unfounded. She’d talk to him again, ask him if he was being completely straight with her about Harriet. He might not like it, and he might be annoyed that he was constantly being asked to prove himself, but it was the only way to put Lizzie’s mind at rest once and for all. She’d already been burned by one man; she wasn’t about to let it happen again.
TEN
Lizzie dialled Jude’s number and picked at a loose thread on her sweatshirt as she waited for him to pick up. Through the window, she could see her builder, Tim, having an animated discussion with one of his team. At least, the worker was being animated – Tim would fail to look animated even if he was plugged into a live socket. As she watched them, a vague dread took hold that they were discussing another problem with the build. But then they seemed to reach an agreement and the worker went away looking happy. Lizzie allowed herself the briefest sigh of relief, but then the phone was answered.
‘Hello. This is Charlie speaking.’
‘Charlie!’ Lizzie said. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m very well. Who are you?’
‘It’s Lizzie.’
‘Oh. You sound funny.’
‘That’s probably because you don’t usually hear me on the telephone. Is Jude there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can he come to the phone?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Why not?’
‘He’s running after Harriet. It’s his turn to be it.’
‘Running after Harriet?’ she repeated.
‘Yes,’ Charlie replied. ‘We’re playing.’
‘Is Artie playing too?’
‘Oh yes,’ Charlie said cheerfully.
‘So you’re all playing tag? Is Damon there too?’
‘Tig,’ Charlie said. ‘Not tag.’
‘Yes, sorry… it’s all the same to me. Is it just Jude and Harriet with you?’
‘But this is tig.’
‘Yes, sorry, Charlie. What about Damon?’
‘Artie’s here.’
‘Yes.’
‘Not Damon.’
Lizzie couldn’t decide whether this information made her more or less uneasy. ‘Could you just get Jude for me?’
‘But he’s it.’
‘I know he is but I need to speak to him.’
‘Shall I get him?’
‘Yes please.’
Lizzie caught the snatch of a woman’s laughter in the background. Though the fun and games were clearly all for Artie’s benefit, the situation was hardly helpin
g to settle Lizzie’s current doubts. If anything, it was stoking the flames of jealousy and mistrust higher than ever. Jude had never pretended he wasn’t still good friends with Harriet, but Lizzie was beginning to realise that she was struggling with the concept more than she’d even admitted to herself. Since her conversation with Gracie the night before, it was like her eyes had suddenly been opened. When she woke, the first thing she’d wanted to do was call him and clear the air, but then Tim and his team had arrived, and Gracie had needed her, and before she’d known it half the morning had gone.
Before she’d been able to say anything more, the phone went dead. Charlie must have somehow ended the call.
Lizzie’s finger went to the screen to repeat the call, but then she paused, her gaze going to the window again, wrestling anew with a monster that was getting stronger with every minute that went by. She’d never been wronged by Harriet but she could quite cheerfully punch her in the face right now.
They looked like a couple. That was what Gracie had said. What if Harriet was always going to be the most important woman in Jude’s life? What if anyone else would always be a poor second? Who had ended the relationship? Lizzie had never asked Jude because she’d felt it showed distrust on her part, but now she wished she had. What if Harriet had ended it and Jude was still in love with her?
The phone rang and she looked to see his name on the screen. She swiped to receive it.
‘Lizzie?’ Jude sounded out of breath. ‘Charlie said you wanted me.’
‘I’m sorry to call in the day. I thought you might be working, but I just wanted—’
‘I’m taking the morning off. Artie’s visiting.’
‘I know; Charlie said.’
‘We had a great night last night, by the way.’
‘We did too.’
‘Tell Gracie thanks from us both.’
‘You thanked her enough last night.’
‘Yes.’ Jude laughed. ‘Well, you can thank her again. She’s an amazing cook.’
‘I will.’
Lizzie fell into silence. What was she supposed to say now? How could they have the conversation she’d wanted to have if Harriet and Artie were right there with them – everyone playing together and having a lovely time? Enter Lizzie the green-eyed witch who couldn’t keep her suspicious thoughts in check and made sure everyone else’s day was ruined by airing them.
‘Are you OK?’ Jude asked.
‘Yes,’ Lizzie replied, forcing a bright tone. ‘I just wanted to make sure you’d had a good time, that was all. And maybe ask if you wanted to do it again.’
‘We’d love to do it again. Just let us know when.’
‘Is Harriet there?’
Lizzie couldn’t help it. Her question sounded needy and wheedling, but it came out anyway.
‘She’s here with Artie.’ Jude paused. Perhaps something was clicking into place. ‘Are you busy right now?’ he asked.
‘I’m supposed to be working.’
‘I was just thinking it might be good for you to come over and meet Artie… It doesn’t matter if you’re busy, of course…’
Lizzie tussled with an answer. She ought to meet Jude’s son and she wanted to, but that little boy was also a flesh-and-blood reminder of what Jude had once had with Harriet. She’d have to one day, of course. But today was definitely not the day.
‘That would have been lovely,’ she said. ‘Another time, maybe? Things are kind of busy right now and…’ Her reply trailed off.
‘Of course,’ Jude said, though Lizzie suspected that her excuse had sounded as lame to him as she herself knew it was.
Lizzie heard Charlie’s voice, calling him, and Harriet’s voice joining in.
‘So you’re OK?’ Jude asked.
‘Oh yes. You get back to your… whatever it is you’re playing with Artie.’
‘Oh, we’re all playing. I think the adults are taking it more seriously than he is,’ Jude said with a laugh.
‘Fab,’ Lizzie said, beginning to feel the smile she was forcing twitch and crack under the pressure. ‘Have fun. I’ll speak to you later.’
‘OK, bye. Don’t work too hard.’
‘Bye.’
Lizzie ended the call. She needed to offload. She needed to find Gracie.
* * *
‘You’ll never be able to settle if you don’t get to the bottom of it,’ Gracie said, pulling the spoon out of the ice-cream tub and sticking it into her mouth. Then she licked it clean before wagging it at Lizzie. ‘I can’t believe you haven’t cleared this up with him already.’
‘I have. I mean, I thought I had. But then you went and told me that last night.’
‘So it’s my fault your boyfriend’s having his cake and eating it?’
‘He’s not. I don’t think…’
‘Well, there’s no smoke without fire.’
‘Will you stop it with the proverbs?’ Lizzie stabbed her own spoon into the tub. It was hardly a nutritious lunch but desperate times called for desperate measures. ‘It’s not really helping. And you said last night that it was only a vague feeling you had and that you were probably wrong and I shouldn’t take any notice.’
‘Oh, Lizzie, if you believe me when I say those sorts of things then you really will believe anything!’
Lizzie swallowed a squeal of frustration. Really, Gracie ought to come with a translation manual because, otherwise, how was anyone supposed to work out what she meant when she said anything?
‘So you’re saying I ought to be worried?’
‘Yes.’
‘But last night you said the opposite!’
‘But last night you hadn’t told me he was messing about with her having a great time at his house – which he never bothered to tell you he was planning to do. And that it appears to be a regular thing.’
‘Does he have to tell me everything he’s planning to do? And does it matter if it’s a regular thing?’
‘When it involves her, perhaps yes.’
‘I can’t ask him about it – how crazy and possessive would that make me sound?’
‘Well, then I don’t really know why you’ve come to ask me about it. I’m offering you my opinion, and if you don’t want me to be truthful then you shouldn’t have asked.’
‘But you never said any of this last night.’
‘Last night you were completely in love with him and you wouldn’t have wanted to hear it.’
‘I was not and I would have.’
‘I think you are a little bit in love with him and that’s why you’re so bothered.’
‘Nobody wants to play second fiddle to an ex. Being in love has nothing to do with it.’
‘I think you should cut your losses and leave before it gets too messy. Once you’re really smitten it will be horrible having to break it off.’
‘Who says I want to break it off?’
‘Well, you will if he’s still close to this Harriet girl, won’t you? You’ve just said you don’t want to play second fiddle to her.’
‘I don’t, but I don’t want to break it off.’
Gracie sighed and shoved her spoon in the ice-cream pot. ‘You need to make up your mind.’
‘But she’s always going to be lurking around if they have a child together, isn’t she? I can’t do anything about that.’
‘True. But then you need to tell him straight that you need boundaries.’
‘What kind of boundaries?’
‘Between him and Harriet. It’s all very well him having access to his son, as long as he isn’t having too much access to the mother. He needs to show you that he’s keeping it to the minimal, appropriate contact – just enough to parent and no more.’
‘OK. How does he do that?’
‘How should I know? That’s for him to work out if he’s serious about you. I’d give him an ultimatum. Either he does that or it’s over.’
‘I can’t ask him to stop being friends with Harriet.’
‘I really think you’ll have to. I don’t se
e any other way of settling this.’
In the back of her mind, a little voice was telling Lizzie that perhaps Gracie’s advice was coloured by her own recent experience with Frank. The problem was, the voice was hardly a whisper at all, and it certainly wasn’t loud enough to compete with the unreasonable roar of her own insecurities. Wouldn’t it be so much easier to be with Jude if Harriet was out of the picture? Could she ask him to make that kind of sacrifice? Though if he cared for Lizzie at all, then surely he’d understand her need for reassurance?
But then she shook her head and stood her spoon in the tub.
‘No,’ she said, getting up from the table. ‘I have to trust him. If I can’t, then I haven’t moved on from Evan at all, and if I haven’t moved on from him there’s no future for me and Jude anyway.’
Gracie gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘OK. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
ELEVEN
Lizzie didn’t sleep well. She hadn’t called Jude the previous evening and he hadn’t called her, but she wondered if that was perhaps a good thing, given that the conversation she’d had with Gracie was still fresh in her mind. Despite this, it also forced her to muse, more than once, on the possibility that he hadn’t phoned her because he’d been busy entertaining Harriet all evening. Hadn’t Charlie told Lizzie that Harriet was Jude’s girlfriend when they’d first met? It wasn’t the case but it was easy to see how it might look that way if she was always there. But then, where did that leave Damon? Surely he’d be as unhappy about the possibility of that scenario as Lizzie was? Surely he would have something to say?
She’d forced herself to work this morning, despite not feeling up to it, because she had a job for a cruise company that she really needed to finish, and then, instead of having lunch, she’d dared to look at her accounts. Now, an hour later, she closed the lid on her laptop and rubbed at her temples. She’d known her savings had been disappearing quickly enough, but once she’d sat down to face the arduous task of working out what was owed to who and how much she still needed to set aside for essential repair work, even she’d been shocked at how depleted they actually were. She might well be living in the mill by Christmas, but there would be no carpets, no paint on the walls, no interior doors and no window furnishings. As for Christmas itself, she might just stretch to a cut-price chicken for dinner but that was only if she abandoned the idea of a flushing toilet in the bathroom.
The Mill on Magnolia Lane: A gorgeous feel-good romantic comedy Page 11
