The Trouble with Great Aunt Milly

by Alice Ross

  Because he loved her. And come to think of it, he had done for quite some time.

  Following his epiphany regarding his feelings for Alex, James’ urge to jump in the car, tear down the motorway and confess all increased twenty-fold. But he didn’t. What would it achieve? Absolutely nothing – that’s what. Particularly when there was no way his feelings would be reciprocated. He’d made a total arse of himself over the weeks he’d known her. His list of misdemeanours was endless: running away, ridiculing her boyfriend, attempting a couple of drunken passes, his pathetic “clearing the air” speech and, most recently, his fictitious Australia plan. God only knew what she must think of him. Hopefully, he’d never find out.

  But James’ feelings for Alex formed only half of the melee of thoughts spinning around his head. Vying for supremacy were his feelings for Olivia. How were these affected by this new revelation? He still loved her, of course. He’d always love her. But things changed, just as they had with her parents. David and Rosemary were moving on with their lives. Maybe it was time he did the same. But where should he move on to?

  *

  Matt arrived home exhausted from the zoo. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much, or when he’d had such a relaxing day. Experiencing a natural high as opposed to a chemically-induced one, had been a revelation.

  Unfortunately, his bubble of elation didn’t last long. A reminder from Posh Pooches informing him that the bill for Mimi’s wedding attire hadn’t yet been paid, lurked on the doormat. His blood began simmering. Bloody Francesca. If he knew where she was he’d forward the sodding bill on to her. But he didn’t. Which meant it was yet another debt to add to his ever-expanding collection. He had to do something to rectify his dire financial situation. And he had to do it soon.

  *

  James spent a week at Great Aunt Milly’s cottage during which time he’d accepted his feelings for Alex. He had, however, decided to say nothing of these feelings to her because a) there was no point, b) it wasn’t fair when she was sorting out her own life, and c) it would make things even more awkward between them.

  No, the best thing to do was simply to rekindle their friendship, which would be more than enough for him.

  He’d also made an important decision regarding work. Since the incident at Mandy’s wedding, the atmosphere between him and Anya had been unbearable. So he’d decided to take some time out. Scotland probably. For six months or so. He’d keep an eye out for something suitable. Then, when he’d lined something up, he’d have a meeting with Anya; find out exactly what her plans were. She’d made no attempt to hide the fact that she’d been bored lately, so he’d decided to offer to buy her out. He’d give her the time he was away to make up her mind or look for something else.

  Surprising how a break away can help you see things clearly he mused from Great Aunt Milly’s armchair, as yet another waft of violets hit his nostrils.

  For all James was much less antsy as he drove back to Little Crumpton, he was still exhausted. He hadn’t slept well at the cottage, images of a freckled face appearing every time he’d closed his eyes. Not Olivia’s - but Alex’s. Of course he now realised he’d been kidding himself. Even during that brief encounter with Claudia at Matt’s stag do, it had been an image of Alex that had stopped him going further. Still, now he’d accepted why, he could stop tearing himself in two denying his feelings.

  As soon as he got back, he’d decided to go straight round to see Alex, to mend bridges and get things back to normal. Whatever “normal” was. Things hadn’t been “normal” since the first day she’d appeared in the surgery flashing that taut brown midriff.

  He hadn’t even unpacked before he was knocking on her door. She wasn’t in. To overcome his disappointment he went straight home and phoned Mandy, who he hoped might have another update on the Piers break up.

  ‘Oh. James. Hi. Did you, um, have a nice break?’

  Was he imagining it, or did she sound a bit tense?

  ‘Yes, thanks. Just what I needed. How’re you two?’

  ‘Oh. Fine. And everything’s fine at work. Well, other than Anya still acting weird.’

  He hesitated. Something definitely wasn’t right. ‘I, er, popped round to see Alex earlier,’ he said, breaking the unusual silence. ‘She wasn’t in.’

  She didn’t reply.

  ‘Look, Mandy, is everything okay?’

  ‘Oh, James,’ she gasped. ‘It’s Alex.’

  ‘Alex? What about her?’

  ‘She’s found a lump.’

  James’ blood ran cold.

  ‘In her breast.’

  He didn’t wait to hear more. In a flash he’d dropped the phone, ran to the loo and thrown up.

  Five minutes later Mandy stood outside, tears streaming down her face. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘I shouldn’t have told you like that. I didn’t know what to do. She found the lump two weeks ago but didn’t tell a soul. She hoped it was just a cyst. But it isn’t. She has to have a biopsy. And what makes the whole thing worse is that her mum died of breast cancer at forty-six.’

  James stared at her blankly. He couldn’t take it in. Images of Olivia, hospitals, needles, nurses, drips, doctors flashed before his eyes. Even the distinctive hospital smell seemed to surround him, catching the back of his throat.

  As Mandy babbled away, her words drifted over him. He felt … nothing. Every ounce of emotion had fled his body. He was empty.

  Chapter 24

  James hadn’t bothered going to bed. He hadn’t even changed out of his clothes. He was in turmoil. His initial thought, as reality seeped through him, was that he couldn’t go through such a trauma again. But those sentiments had been short-lived, usurped by something stronger: a yearning to see Alex and help her through this. And she would come through it. She had to. Because life couldn’t be so cruel as to snatch away the only two women he’d ever loved. She was staying with her sister in Lincoln. No sooner had Mandy tracked down the address, than he was in the jeep, foot to the floor.

  He arrived at lunchtime. The house was a huge Victorian terraced. Heart pounding, he pressed the bell and waited. Seconds later the door was opened – by Alex.

  ‘James! What on earth-?’

  ‘I’m sorry if you don’t want to see me,’ he flustered, his perfectly-rehearsed speech evaporating. ‘But I had to see you. Mandy told me and I … I …’

  She shook her head. ‘But how did you know where I was?’

  ‘Mandy told me. She found the address.’

  She clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘God, I can’t believe you’ve gone to all that trouble. Come on in.’

  In the kitchen, James sat at the island while Alex rustled up coffee and sandwiches, babbling all the while. He didn’t join in. Seeing her again had intensified his feelings. And what she must be going through ripped him apart.

  She plonked the cafetiere, two mugs, and the plate of sandwiches on the island, before claiming the stool next to his. He couldn’t look at the food, even the smell of the coffee made him feel sick.

  ‘So,’ she said. ‘Mandy told you about the biopsy?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And about my mum?’

  ‘Ah ha.’

  ‘Well,’ she shrugged, turning to meet his eye, ‘in that case I’ve nothing more to add. You are, Mr Pinkerton, fully up-to-date.’

  James gawped. How could she be so up-beat?

  She looked away and began fiddling with her cup. ‘So how are things with you? How are the Australia plans coming along?’

  Australia? What was she-? Shit. Of course. He hadn’t informed anyone of his “change of plan”.

  ‘I’m not going to Australia. I never was.’

  She furrowed her brow. ‘But I thought you said … the job in Sydney … the big practice.’

  ‘I did say. But just to piss off Piers. I made it all up.’

  She giggled. ‘He is a bit of a prat, isn’t he?’

  ‘A total prat.’

  She turned her attention back
to the cup. ‘I suppose Mandy told you that he and I are finished. I’m not going to Canada.’

  His heart began pounding. ‘What made you change your mind?’

  She looked at him, a strange expression on her face.

  ‘You did. Oh, I know you waffled on about not wanting a relationship and about going away and everything. You made your feelings quite clear. But still, what was the point of me going to Canada with Piers when I don’t love him. I love …’

  James held his breath.

  She swivelled her stool around to face him. ‘... you, James.’

  He gaped at her. ‘But you can’t. I mean I love you. It’s just taken me a while to realise it.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Of course I do. You’re easy to love. You’re clever and funny and gorgeous and those legs … But how can you love me? I’ve been a total arse.’

  ‘Are you referring to all those times you ran away from me?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And those two drunken passes?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And that time you ridiculed Piers in front of the entire village?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And all that rubbish about Australia?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Well, I can’t say I really noticed any of it.’

  He laughed before turning serious and taking her hands in his. ‘Let me help you through this, Alex, please.’

  She withdrew her hands. ‘I can’t ask you to do that. Not after everything you’ve been through.’

  For one brief moment, his heart stopped. ‘You know about Olivia?’

  She nodded. ‘Mandy told me. But please don’t be mad. She only told me last week. When I found out about this. She didn’t know what to do.’

  James thought about it for a few minutes before saying, ‘I’m glad she told you.’

  She tilted her head to look at him again. ‘Well, in that case, I’m glad too.’

  *

  Since witnessing Jakov and Imogen leaving the gym together, Anya had made two important decisions. Firstly, she wanted nothing else to do with Jakov. And secondly, having abandoned her plan to seduce James, the burden she carried in her belly was now superfluous. For all she had no idea what her future plans would be, they would definitely not include a baby.

  She picked up the telephone and dialled the number she’d been staring at all morning.

  *

  ‘Where’s Maria?’ Matt asked when Olga arrived at the apartment alone that evening.

  ‘Having a sleep-over at her friend Maddie’s house,’ she said, grimacing. ‘Six of them in total. Rather Maddie’s mum than me.’

  ‘Obviously a brave woman,’ said Matt sagely.

  ‘Obviously,’ giggled Olga.

  From his stool at the breakfast bar, Matt once again observed her as she bustled about preparing dinner. For all his disappointment at not seeing Maria, he was looking forward to some time alone with Olga.

  He forced his lips into a smile before asking, ‘So, given you’re footloose and fancy-free tonight, I suppose you’ll be out painting the town red.’

  She snorted with laughter as she rinsed a tomato. ‘I wish. No, I’m going straight home to work on my dissertation.’

  Relief pulsed through him. That was exactly the answer he’d hoped for. If she’d said she had a hot date or was going clubbing he’d have felt …what? Crap? Disappointed? Miserable? Probably all of the above. But she didn’t and she wasn’t. She had no such plans which meant- An idea occurred to him. But dare he voice it? He continued to watch as she peeled an onion.

  ‘Spaghetti Bolognese,’ she said. ‘That okay with you?’

  ‘More than okay. It’s my all-time favourite.’

  ‘Mine too. Not very original, I know, but-’

  ‘Would you like to join me? Don’t feel you have to- I mean I’ll understand if you’d rather crack on with your dissertation- And I know it’s not the same given you’ve cooked it. But … I’d really like you to.’ Shit. There. He’d said it.

  For what seemed to him like an eternity, she didn’t reply as she carried on peeling the onion. Then she rubbed her little nose, looked up at him and smiled.

  ‘Okay.’

  *

  James came to an abrupt standstill at the hospital entrance. He was terrified of going inside. Terrified of the memories it’d stir up. Terrified of the biopsy. But, most of all, terrified of losing Alex.

  He tightened his grip on her hand.

  ‘James,’ she said reassuringly. ‘It’s okay, really. I’m perfectly capable of going on my own.’

  He looked down at her. Her normal golden glow had disappeared. Even her freckles had lost their shine. She looked wan and tired.

  Apart from spending the night in her sister’s spare room in Lincoln, he’d barely left her side for the last two days. Yesterday he’d driven her back to Little Crumpton, made her dinner and put on a rom-com film. They’d fallen asleep on the sofa, arms wrapped around one another. And when he’d woken up beside her that morning, a wave of happiness had enveloped him – quickly nudged aside by reality. The lump. The hospital. The biopsy.

  She’d twisted around to face him. ‘Morning,’ she’d whispered sleepily.

  He’d smiled. Even with tousled hair and mascara halfway down her cheeks she looked gorgeous. And he was going to help her through this trauma – if it was the last thing he did.

  ‘I must look a mess,’ she’d muttered. ‘I bet I’ve got mascara halfway down my cheeks.’

  ‘No you haven’t,’ he’d lied. Before kissing her - a long, lingering kiss neither of them had wanted to end. It had been he who’d eventually pulled away. He’d had to. His body longed for her. But it wouldn’t be right. Not yet.

  ‘We’d better get ready for the hospital,’ he’d said.

  ‘You don’t have to come with me,’ she’d replied, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from his face.

  ‘Oh, but I do. There’s no way I’m letting you go through this on your own.’

  And he’d meant it.

  Except now here he was, at the hospital, feet refusing to move.

  ‘James, it’s okay. Really. Just go. Please.’

  Looking again at her pale little face, a bubble of pride and protectiveness swelled inside him. She was so brave. So positive. So young. Just like Olivia. But surely what had happened to Olivia couldn’t happen to Alex. He wouldn’t let it. Even if it meant flying her to the other end of the world for some pioneering treatment, she wouldn’t die. He’d make sure of it. But first he had to pull himself together. Be strong. For her.

  Sucking in a deep breath, he said, ‘Come on, Miss Corr. Let’s get you sorted out.’

  Chapter 25

  The Spaghetti Bolognese had been delicious. Not that Matt was surprised. Everything Olga cooked was delicious. They’d eaten at the breakfast bar and, along with the pasta, had devoured hunks of buttery garlic bread, washed down with several glasses of Chianti.

  ‘Goodness, I’ve eaten far too much,’ Olga puffed, placing her hands over her tiny stomach. ‘I’ll have to go for a very long run tomorrow.’

  Matt threw her a look of amazement as he topped up her wine glass. ‘Don’t tell me marathon running is also on your already long and impressive list of achievements.’

  She giggled. ‘I only do half-marathons if that makes you feel better.’

  He gave an ironic snort of laughter. ‘Actually, it doesn’t.’ And it didn’t. It merely reinforced his burgeoning belief that he was a total failure. Aware of her eyes on him, he began fiddling with the label on the wine bottle. ‘There you are all competent and capable and in control, while my life is a complete disaster.’

  ‘Hey,’ she soothed. ‘No it isn’t. You’re just a bit depressed because of your leg.’

  She placed her tiny hand over his large one. He turned his head to her. Their eyes fused. Something stirred in the pit of his stomach. She withdrew her hand.

  ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.’


  ‘Yes you should,’ he whispered.

  *

  Anya made her appointment at The Clinic for the following week. As she hung up the phone, she waited for relief to engulf her. It didn’t. She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Of course she was relieved. Why on earth wouldn’t she be? When the pregnancy was terminated she could start and think about what to do with her life.

  Her mobile rang. Jakov. She flicked it off.

  *

  Alex’s biopsy was scheduled for late afternoon.

  ‘Please don’t come in for evening visiting,’ she instructed James. ‘I’ll be far too groggy.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Okay. But you know where I am if you need me. I can be here in twenty minutes. And you’ll call me tomorrow when you’re ready to be picked up?’

  ‘I will.’

  He kissed her gently on the lips before leaving. She was going to be all right, he assured himself. She had to be. Because if she wasn’t, he didn’t know what he’d do.

  *

  The morning following dinner with Olga, Matt woke up fizzling with excitement. He glanced at the clock. Eight forty-six. Only another hour-and-fourteen minutes until he saw her again. He could hardly wait.

  Fifteen minutes later, fresh from the shower with a towel round his waist, he hopped into the bedroom.

  ‘Hello, darling. Have you missed me?’

  He did a double-take. Was he dreaming or was a semi-clad Francesca sprawled on his bed?

  He gaped as she ran a finger along the curve of her breasts, magnificent in a black lace bra, then traced it down her flat stomach stopping just short of her thong.

  ‘And poor baby’s hurt his leg. Why don’t you lie down here beside me and tell me all about it.’

  Matt gulped. He’d forgotten just how gorgeous she was. In fact “gorgeous” didn’t do her justice. She was a bloody goddess. Under his towel something stirred.

  ‘I just want you to know that I’ve changed my mind,’ she cooed, sliding one long leg up against the other in so suggestive a manner that his ardour rose a shade further. ‘I made a mistake. And I’m here to put things right.’ She propped herself up on her elbows, breasts straining against the lace. ‘We were good together. And we can be again. We can start completely afresh. Right now. So why don’t you come here and let me show you how much I’ve missed you.’