Best Laid Plans

by Patricia Fawcett

  ‘Sounds like a date to me.’ Christine sighed. ‘Be careful, darling. You’ve had one disappointment already with Brian. I know you were starting to make plans.’

  ‘No I was not. I don’t know where you get these ideas from. I’ve not lost any sleep over him, Mum. I might have known he wouldn’t last the distance and when I found out he had kids and hadn’t told me that was the last straw. Can you believe that?’

  ‘I can believe anything of a man, darling. The least he could have done was stay a while to support you over Christmas. It was despicable of him to leave you like that. Talk about bad timing.’

  ‘Forget him.’ Amy sounded annoyed. ‘Is anybody there with you?’

  ‘No of course not. Why?’

  ‘Just wondered. Are you very lonely, Mum?’

  ‘What a question! No I don’t think so. It takes a bit of getting used to, that’s all.’

  ‘It would be better if you had neighbours.’

  ‘I do have neighbours down in the village.’

  ‘Yes but they’re not that close. What if something happened in the middle of the night?’

  ‘Stop it. I am not in my dotage yet. Look, darling, this is getting a little wearing. Would you please stop worrying about me?’

  ‘I’m thinking of coming over at the weekend if that’s all right?’

  ‘Lovely. We can go shopping or is that too much like work for you?’

  ‘Of course we can go shopping,’ Amy echoed. ‘I need some new spring stuff so you can help me choose it and while we’re at it we’ll get you some new clothes as well. We both need cheering up. Look, Mum, I’m sorry but I have to go. Daniel’s picking me up in ten minutes and I still haven’t decided which coat I’m wearing.’

  ‘Ring me tomorrow and enjoy yourself, darling, on your business date.’ She laughed as she replaced the receiver. Business date at a fancy restaurant? Who was kidding whom?

  She had picked up the free paper from the mat when she arrived home. Usually she just tossed it in the bin but it was sitting on the kitchen table as she made herself a pot of tea following Amy’s call so she sat a moment and idly leafed through it.

  There was a miscellaneous sales page and she found herself going through it smiling at some of the entries. Oh look, somebody was selling a world globe for forty pounds, one of the sort Frank had always wanted and had never got round to buying. She had once considered getting him one for a birthday but again, when it came to it, she had settled for something useful like a shirt or a jumper. Thinking of that reminded her of him, as so many little things did, and she took a deep, steadying breath because she did not want to start on a crying session which was only wearying and ultimately useless.

  There was nothing else of interest in the paper, just a few notices of coming events and a page of adverts for local shops but it was then, as she glanced at that page, that she recognized the telephone number. It was one of those easy to remember numbers ending in triple three and she noted that it belonged to a second-hand bookshop over in Lancaster. Why would a man from a second-hand bookshop be ringing Monique and calling her darling? But then it had been a wrong number so he had not actually been ringing her.

  Instinctively she knew he had. This man could be an old friend because Monique had been brought up in Lancaster and this old friend could be one of those kind of people who call all and sundry darling without it meaning a thing but she did not recall Monique ever talking about a friend with a bookshop, which was odd because Christine enjoyed nothing more than rifling through the shelves of such establishments. Monique had seen her do it often enough in Preston so why hadn’t she mentioned it?

  She stopped thinking such thoughts and laughed at herself. Her mind was on overdrive and she was being perfectly ridiculous. Monique was happily married and she was not the sort of girl who would take on a lover. Although Frank had brought that daft idea up once or twice, hadn’t she been the one to strenuously deny it?

  Nevertheless, daft or not, the next time she was in Lancaster she might just check out that bookshop and see the man who owned that rather pleasant voice.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gardner’s was in a nondescript side street but then its reputation was such that it did not need to advertise its presence.

  Before ringing her mother for the brief phone chat, Amy had spent at least an hour trying things on, dithering because she needed to get this right. It was tricky because she did not want to look too businesslike but nor did she want to look too glamorous. Unfortunately, Brian had brought her to Gardner’s once and, mortifyingly, had refused to leave a tip so she hoped to God that they did not have the same waiter who might remember her as part of the tight-arsed couple and have her on some sort of blacklist.

  Even so, with luck he might not recognize her because the last time she was here was before the drastic hair trim and she looked a little different now. Since then it had grown a bit although it was at that awkward, neither here or there ‘stage’, looking a little ragged round the edges, and she was tempted to have it cut off again. After the comical dressing and un-dressing session in front of her bedroom mirror, she had settled eventually on a simple knee-length blue dress with long sleeves, an all-rounder that was supposed to see you from office to evening with just a clever switch of accessories and although it was chilly in the evening air she was wearing just a featherweight cream fringed stole over it because her winter coat looked silly. A pair of her highest heels completed the outfit because Daniel still topped her in height terms and her only jewellery was the silver drop earrings that her parents had bought her for Christmas.

  Daniel was wearing a suit – Marcus would be pleased – and a subtly striped shirt with the silk tie she and Janet had bought him for Christmas. That was a nice touch and it made her feel guilty because she had ditched his gift of the ‘Bella-Sophia’ perfume and reverted to her perennial favourite, a light, flowery fragrance. She was confident that such a subtlety would not occur to Daniel and that, in the unlikely event it did, he would be far too polite to mention it.

  ‘Good evening, sir, madam.’ Hell, it was the same waiter but he thankfully gave no sign of remembering her as he showed them to a corner table in the softly glowing restaurant. The menus – a vast selection of delights – were flourished and he left them in peace saying that the wine waiter would be with them shortly.

  ‘Well … here we are.’ Daniel looked at her and it occurred that they had never before been in such close proximity or if they had it would have been across a desk with piles of paperwork spread out between them and a deadline looming. It could be the lighting this evening, this being so much kinder to the eye than office fluorescent, but it was as if she was seeing him properly for the very first time and it was disconcerting; the first time she supposed that she was looking at him as a man rather than the boss.

  ‘This is very nice, Daniel. Quite a treat.’

  ‘You deserve it. You’ve worked your socks off lately, especially since Christmas.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s helped to take my mind off things.’

  She found she was surprisingly flustered by the way he was looking at her, knowing that her make-up was already losing its edge and in the cool of this air-conditioned interior, the stole was useless and slippery as an eel. Irritated with it, she draped it over the back of the chair where it hung a moment before sliding gracefully off onto the carpet, lying there in a surprisingly large silky puddle. Reaching quickly down to collect it before it tripped up some unsuspecting waiter she stuffed it under the table beside her bag, fumbling a bit because, during the sitting down ceremony – waiter respectfully assisting – the bag had somehow got its strap caught round the leg of her chair. When she surfaced at last she saw that Daniel was regarding her with a bemused smile, forcing a rueful response.

  ‘Sorry. I’m afraid I don’t do accessories and I don’t do elegance, either.’

  ‘You look lovely,’ he told her. ‘We’re not in the office now, Amy, so do try to relax. Have you decided what
you would like?’

  ‘I’ll have the spiced parsnip soup and then the sea bass,’ she told him, never one to dally where food was concerned. Menus these days were akin to reading War and Peace and she had learned how to skim them.

  ‘Okay. Let’s order then.’

  The waiter had been standing at a discreet distance and approached as he saw that they had made their choices. They ordered and Daniel asked for the wine list and after consulting her – sweet of him but she didn’t know one wine from another – he ordered a bottle of an Australian white, not the cheapest on the list, as she quickly noted.

  ‘Have you been to Australia?’ he asked when they were alone once more.

  ‘No. I’d love to go but apart from anything else it’s finding the time and the money for a holiday like that. Have you?’ she asked, sensing a conversation opener was being offered. She was incredibly nervous because she wanted this evening to go well, even if it was just business on his part although the ‘You look lovely,’ had registered as had the look on his face when he said it. My God, he meant it.

  ‘Yes, I’ve been several times. My ex wife was … is … Australian,’ he said softly. ‘She went back home after the divorce.’

  ‘I see.’ A vision of an attractive healthy-looking blonde appeared but she was glad that no name had been mentioned. ‘Do you have children?’

  ‘No. She didn’t want children. She was far too busy with her career,’ he added with a knowing glance her way. ‘Like a lot of you ladies these days.’

  ‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ she said lightly, not taking offence to that remark when she might well have because the assumptions people made about women who had a career were laughable and often completely off track. ‘I never set out to have children but it might have been different if I’d met the right man. Who knows? Now, it’s getting a bit late because I’m on the slippery slope to forty.’

  ‘Am I supposed to say you don’t look it?’ His grin was unrepentant and she laughed.

  ‘You can if you like. Sometimes, lately, I’ve felt about eighty. However …’ she shook her head as she thought about it, ‘I’m happy with what I’m doing and I refuse to think of what might have been. What’s the point of that? If it happens, it happens; if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.’

  ‘That’s the right way to think about life,’ he said, surprisingly serious but then it was him who had brought up the subject of his ex-wife. ‘You have to know when it’s time to end a relationship and that’s what happened to us. It was difficult as these things are and we said we should remain friends but we’ve lost touch and that’s how it should be. It’s easier because she’s on the other side of the world and she’s met somebody else at that.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it? It means that she’s moving on and …’ she hesitated, not sure what she was trying to say, relieved, therefore, when he stepped in.

  ‘I was at a loose end for a while and I did think of following her, another part of Australia, of course, but it’s not for me. I’m not your outdoor type so all that sun and surfing doesn’t appeal.’

  ‘Nor me,’ she said with a shudder. ‘I’m terrified of the sea. My mother says I was frightened when I was a baby. She used to take me to these swimming classes and this particular teacher was a bit gung-ho, insisting that if babies were thrown in at the deep end, so to speak, they would just swim naturally.’

  He grimaced. ‘Sounds bad. Don’t tell me she did it literally.’

  ‘According to Mum,’ she smiled. ‘It might be hugely exaggerated and it probably is but it’s true that I’ve hated the water ever since. And I definitely don’t care for too much sun or all those scary insects so Australia is probably not for me, either.’

  ‘Their wine is fantastic, though,’ he said, pausing as their starters arrived. His was a caramelized apple salad, beautifully presented as an edible still-life and her small bowl of soup was decorated with a swirl of minted yoghurt.

  ‘What about those speeches this afternoon?’ he said as they started to eat.

  ‘Yours was good. Very succinct,’ she said.

  ‘I’ve come to know what people expect. Mr Armitage knows that, too. Poor Beatrice, though. She was worried sick about having to speak in public.’

  ‘She told me that. I’m surprised because she seems so self-assured and she must have done it before. The last thing you expect is for a woman like her to be nervous.’

  ‘Appearances can be deceptive. She did well, though, didn’t she, even if it was a touch over the top?’

  Amy concentrated on her soup, feeling it would be unwise to criticise Bea – or Beatrice as he seemed to prefer. She was dying to find out his take on the Bea situation and find out exactly what, if anything, had gone on between them but how could she? This was supposed to be a business meeting but it didn’t feel like it at the moment, not with his eyes on her every time she glanced up; a distinctly admiring glance at that as her womanly instinct told her.

  Daniel was looking relaxed. She had always thought him handsome but here, in such cosy proximity, she was taking in every inch of his face in quick surreptitious glances. It was obvious he had had a close shave shortly before he picked her up, which said something because often he had appeared at work with that designer stubble look and she thought of him maybe trying out a few of his own outfits before choosing the formality of a suit, shirt and tie.

  Surely he wasn’t trying to impress her?

  A warm feeling began to encircle her and as their starters were removed and they waited for their main courses, it occurred with a dreadful certainty that she was well on the way to falling in love with him. In fact, could it be that she had known all along but had refused to allow herself to think it whilst they were colleagues because she was far too professional to fall for all that?

  Daniel Coleridge was all she wanted in a man: kind, thoughtful, generous and most important of all she was starting to fancy him like crazy, starting to imagine what it would be like to have him kiss her, hold her, make love to her. But how could she possibly compete with the glossy glamour of Bea who no doubt would wear slinky silk to bed rather than M&S long-sleeved cotton T-shirts? She recalled her dream where Bea had worn old pyjamas, her face scraped clean of make-up, but that was just a dream although she did wonder if Daniel had ever seen that lovely lady with a scrubbed face.

  ‘I was going to set up base in Manchester,’ he began, looking at her directly and she realized that the business part of this was about to start so she would be wise to stop all this drooling nonsense and sit up and take notice. ‘I chose Manchester only because I know it well and a friend offered me a small office and a flat to go with it. But I’ve decided to operate from Preston, which is your neck of the woods. I went over there and I was impressed by it. It’s a dynamic place, just off the M6 and I’ve got contacts there.’ He fished a card from his pocket. ‘There you go.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She left the card on the table, not wanting to risk another dive under it to her still firmly anchored bag. ‘I’ve decided not to take the job in Preston even if I’m offered it,’ she said. ‘And I’m not staying here, either. But what I have decided is to step up, do my duty and take charge of the family business. My brother is going to live in France and although my mother is very capable, she needs help.’

  ‘So you’ll be moving back home?’

  Was it her imagination or did he seem pleased?

  ‘That’s the idea although I haven’t spoken to my mother about it yet. The house is huge and she’s all on her own so I hope she’ll be glad of the company.’

  Their main courses arrived and there was the usual flourish as the plates were placed in front of them. They admired the look of them, making approving noises before resuming their conversation.

  ‘I feel I have to do it,’ Amy continued. ‘My father always expected me to go into the business, trained me up for it and I let him down by not following through. He never said as much but my mother made it quite clear how disappointed she was. And so my
brother stepped in but his heart was never in it and now that he’s going I have no alternative. My mother could sell it on, of course, but it’s been in the family for generations and I certainly don’t want to be the one who gives up on it. It’s purely my decision. She hasn’t put any pressure on me.’

  ‘That sounds very commendable but it’s a bit of a blow to me. The point of all this …’ he gestured round the room, ‘… the point was to ask you to come and work for me, to work with me, rather. But obviously you have to do what you have to do so I wish you well. We’d have made a good team, though, you and me. I’ve already got a list of small businesses who have asked for help. There’s a lot of soul searching going on out there and a lot of people worried about the future. At least I want to help them to see the options.’

  ‘So, you want me to work with you?’

  ‘Yes. Don’t look so surprised. As I’ve said before, we make a good team, you and I, and I love the way we bounce ideas off each other.’

  Amy put down her fork. So this was indeed the sole purpose of this evening and she had grossly misinterpreted his true intentions. This evening was purely business and she was allowing her imagination to run riot to read anything more into it.

  She resumed eating, even though suddenly it was as if she was eating sawdust, only half taking in what he was saying and desperately wanting this to be over. One thing was sure. She could never work with him again.

  ‘I’ve been beavering a bit behind the scenes since before Christmas,’ he said. ‘I’ve done some research into whether or not there was a need for this service because I didn’t want to go into it half-arsed, if you’ll excuse the expression. As it is, it’s a gamble but one worth taking. If it fails – and I don’t think it will – then I can go back into the big-store scenario but I think I shall like working with people, enterprising people like your father.’

  ‘I don’t think we shall be calling on you,’ she said before he might suggest it. ‘I’ve been thinking about things and have come up with a few ideas to bring us up to scratch. I think Dad lost his edge a little and following his illness earlier last year things slipped.’