Eventually the time had come to part, but only because they hadn’t both managed to get jobs at the same design agency and had to settle for work at rival companies. No matter where life intersected or where it pulled them away from each other, they’d never been anything other than the most loyal, devoted friends since that first day at art school.
‘Actually, one of my uncles… God, it’s weird to call someone that!’ Posy sipped her iced water. ‘Asa asked me if I’d give him some design tips for his house.’
‘The whole huge shebang?’ Marella’s eyes widened and Posy laughed lightly.
‘God no! Just his annexe…’
‘Annexe? How big?’
‘Sort of barn-sized.’
‘I hope he’s going to pay you well. I thought you said these people were broke?’
‘Not broke, they just have a lot of their money tied up in the business. Anyway, I’m not sure I’d be allowed to do it for money. If work found out they might not like it much.’
‘They wouldn’t have to know.’
‘I suppose they wouldn’t, but still… Though I could give Asa a few pointers; that couldn’t hurt and I don’t see how anyone could complain about that.’
‘It would get you brownie points too, I expect. Though I’d be tempted to use the opportunity to springboard into a freelance career. You’ve talked about it enough – maybe now’s the time to do it.’
‘I’m not sure if I’m ready yet. It’s a leap.’
‘Sometimes you need to leap.’
‘Easy for you to say; have you met me?’
‘I know you’re not the world’s biggest risk-taker,’ Marella said, laughing. ‘But you’re still in a good place to take a risk – no mortgage, no kids, nobody relying on you. If you want that dream you have to gamble, and I’d say now’s the time, when you have a lot less to lose.’
‘I’d rather not leap blindly though – these things need time spent thinking about them.’
‘You’d think forever and a day. How about a push instead of a leap?’
Posy smiled. ‘A push could work. But I don’t see that happening any time soon. And depending on what sort of push it might be, perhaps I ought to hope it never happens. If I’m going to do it, I’d like to do it on my own terms.’
‘Fair enough,’ Marella said. ‘Are you eating that last dumpling?’
Posy nudged the plate towards her, accidentally knocking elbows with the young man sitting next to her. She offered a brief and vague apology, expecting the same, but instead he stared at her and then smiled, and inwardly she groaned as she detected the first signs of flirtation. He wasn’t her type, but even if he had been she wasn’t interested. Most of the men she’d dated over the years had proven to be shallow or self-absorbed or spineless or needy or selfish or boring and, in some very unfortunate cases, all of those things at once.
She didn’t think she was overly fussy or demanding and she’d give love a fair crack of the whip, but Cupid hadn’t done her any favours so far. She wasn’t even sure she could be bothered with the chase these days. If Mr Right found her then great, but she was fast losing faith that he existed at all and losing the will to care even more quickly. She had her career, her family, her wonderful friends and a brilliant life – what else did she need? She didn’t need a man to define her and she didn’t need one to complete her.
Ignoring the young man’s attempts to engage in any kind of conversation, Posy turned very deliberately back to Marella and reached for her hand, saying in a loud voice: ‘Darling… we should probably get home soon. Little Max will be desperate for his walk before we go to bed… and you know it’s date night tonight, don’t you? So we won’t be going to bed late…’
Marella giggled. They’d played this scene before and it had become an effective way to shake unwanted male attention for one or the other of them – sometimes both on a very busy night out.
‘Oh yes…’ Marella replied in a husky voice. ‘How could I forget date night?’
Posy chanced a glance and saw that the man was now looking very deliberately at his phone. She turned back to find her friend still grinning.
‘You’re terrible, Muriel,’ she said, a reference to one of their favourite films.
Posy returned the grin and watched as Marella popped the last gyoza into her mouth.
‘We probably ought to pay the bill anyway,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a ton of emails waiting at work and if I don’t start going through them soon I’ll be stuck in the office till midnight.’
‘We could have rescheduled lunch if you were that busy,’ Marella said airily as she munched. ‘You should have said.’
‘No, I wanted to come. It’s done me good – I was in a foul mood this morning.’
‘And now?’
‘Much better now,’ Posy said.
‘See, that’s the Marella effect.’
‘It really is,’ Posy agreed as she searched her bag for her bank card. ‘You ought to bottle yourself for general sale.’
‘Hmm,’ Marella said, thoughtful for a moment. ‘I wonder how that would go down on Dragons’ Den…’
Chapter Eight
Sometimes Posy found it frustrating and annoying that she still lived with her mum at her age. She’d say she lived with both parents, but her dad was away working on the offshore wind power projects he helped to set up around the country so often that she barely considered him to live with them at all. She knew her mum missed him all the time, and when Posy found herself frustrated and annoyed with her situation she had only to remember how lonely Carmel might be if Posy wasn’t there to feel a lot less annoyed about it all. One day she’d have to go, of course, and there had been many late-night discussions about it prompted by this or that minor incident but, for the most part, both Posy and Carmel were perhaps a little too content with the current arrangement to do much about it.
Though that might all be about to change.
Carmel had just cleared away the remains of a supper Posy had cooked. Nothing fancy, just a quick spinach omelette and a salad. While Carmel stacked the dishwasher, Posy stretched out on the sofa in their conservatory, listening to the rain drum on the glass, blanket over her knees as the sky began to darken. Her mind was in Somerset again. She couldn’t say why the place had taken hold of her imagination in such a sudden and violent way, but something about it had lodged in there. Whenever she thought of it, she wanted to be there.
‘Penny for them…’
Carmel came back in with two glasses of gin and tonic, poured over mountains of ice and topped with a lemon wedge.
‘Though,’ she continued, ‘judging by the look on your face, perhaps I ought to up the offer. Ten pounds for your thoughts?’
Posy pushed herself to sit, crossing her legs and pulling the blanket up round her lap before taking one of the glasses from her mum. Carmel settled on the opposite sofa.
‘Want to talk about it?’
Posy smiled. ‘I’m alright – just tired.’
‘OK,’ Carmel said slowly. ‘It’s just that I’m aware we haven’t really discussed at any length what happened at the weekend.’
‘Oh, that… Well, there’s not that much to discuss that we haven’t already been over.’
‘Not even how it’s made you feel? Whether it’s changed anything for you?’
‘Nothing’s changed.’
Carmel raised her eyebrows. ‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly, it changes nothing – between us at least. I was more worried that you might feel differently… you might worry that you wouldn’t be so important to me now, but you absolutely are and will always be, no matter how many birth families I might find.’
‘See – typical you.’ Carmel smiled. ‘Always thinking of everyone else when you ought to be thinking of yourself.’
Posy sipped at her drink. ‘Do you think they meant it?’
‘Meant what?’
‘Giles and Asa and Sandra… do you think they really want us to stay in touch? Or do you think th
ey were just being polite? Maybe they feel guilty about everything and are trying not to look like the bad guys, but maybe they’d secretly be happier if they never saw us again.’
‘They’re not really the bad guys, are they? They certainly shouldn’t feel guilty about things they had no control over.’
‘But I bet they do. I would.’
Carmel was silent for a moment, her gaze turned to the garden beyond the conservatory windows. More of a yard, really – a long strip of paved land strewn with pots containing trees and plants and shrubs of all shapes and sizes and, just at the end, almost in darkness, was the tiny brick pottery studio where she worked during the day.
‘Perhaps I would too,’ she said finally. ‘I think the offer was extended in a genuine spirit of friendship.’
Posy nodded. ‘Me too. I just wasn’t sure I was reading the signs right.’
‘I’d love the excuse to stay at Sunnyside again if nothing else – Karen was a hoot.’
‘She was. Nuts, but in the best way. We don’t need any excuse to stay with her – we can just go anyway if we want to.’
‘True.’
‘What a life she has there. She must be deliriously happy every morning when she wakes up to start a new day.’
‘What a lovely thought, eh? To love your life that much.’
‘We love ours, don’t we?’
Carmel smiled. ‘Of course we do. Sometimes I’d be happy if it slowed down a little, but I suspect I’m just getting grouchy in my old age.’
‘You’re not getting old – I refuse to accept it!’
‘I’m not as young as I once was either.’
‘Young at heart – that’s what counts.’
‘Isn’t that what you youngsters tell us oldies to make us feel better about being old?’
‘Maybe. Does it work?’
‘Not really. One day you’ll see what I mean.’
Posy grinned as she took another sip of her drink.
‘Actually, Karen emailed me this morning,’ Carmel said.
‘Did she? I didn’t break anything, I swear.’
Carmel laughed. ‘Nothing like that. She thanked us for coming to stay and said she hoped we would visit again next time we went to Astercombe even if we ended up staying at Oleander House overnight. She also asked if either of us had been to the vineyard while we were there… apparently the owner of the vineyard that borders Oleander’s orchards has been complaining about someone trespassing. He went straight to Karen, assuming it was one of her guests. Know anything about that? You did take that walk by yourself, and you did seem a little flustered when you got back…’
‘I didn’t even think it was worth mentioning,’ Posy said, aghast. ‘Oh, God, I hope Karen didn’t get into a lot of trouble – he seems like a horrible man. It was an accident; I didn’t mean to wander onto his stupid land. If he doesn’t want people on there he ought to build proper fences – there was nothing… well, nothing worth mentioning. How was I meant to know it was private land?’
Posy wondered whether to add the small detail of how naked the man had been when he’d caught her wandering his land but decided against it. Partly because the memory made her blush still – and not just from embarrassment – and because she’d rather liked what she’d seen and felt naughty about the thoughts suddenly racing through her mind. Instead, she clamped her lips around the rim of her glass and took a long drink.
‘Ah,’ Carmel said with a slight grin, which made Posy wonder just how much she – and Karen – knew about the details of Posy’s transgression.
‘Did Karen sound very annoyed?’
‘Oh, I don’t think she was annoyed at all. She says he’s an absolute pain and found it all quite amusing.’
‘I should imagine people wind up on his land all the time. It’s not very well marked out, you know. I mean, if it had been the vineyards I’d have known not to walk there but it just looked like wild fields to me.’
‘Perhaps, but Karen didn’t say anything about that being the case.’
‘Oh.’
Somehow it was vaguely disappointing to hear that Karen wasn’t keen on her neighbour either. For some reason that Posy couldn’t explain she’d half hoped she’d been wrong about the man and that perhaps their misunderstanding was the only thing that had got them off on the wrong foot. But if Karen didn’t much care for him either then he probably wasn’t very nice, which was a shame.
Why was it a shame, though?
Posy chased the question around her head for a moment, until it escaped and disappeared off into the distance. Pesky thing. But no good could come of answering it anyway and it hardly mattered – it wasn’t like she was going to be seeing angry naked man again any time soon. Or even at all. Ever. She didn’t even know his name, although she did now know that he owned the vineyard she’d spotted that day.
Carmel’s phone rang. Posy watched her pick it up from the table.
‘Anthony…’ she said, smiling broadly as she answered.
‘Tell Dad I said hi!’ Posy mouthed.
‘You can tell him yourself in a minute,’ Carmel replied. ‘No, not you, Anthony. I was just saying to Posy I’ll put her on in a minute. First of all, how’s everything in Lincolnshire…?’
Carmel began to chat and Posy settled into the sofa to wait, cradling her gin and tonic as she watched the rain grow heavier outside.
* * *
Posy met the delivery driver halfway up their front path as she left for work the following morning.
‘Dashwood?’ he asked with a sniff.
‘Yes, but I—’
‘Wait there…’
Posy glanced at the time on her phone and wondered whether she ought to go and get her mum to deal with this, but before she’d come to a decision the driver had returned from his van, staggering towards her with a box. It didn’t seem oversized but it was clearly heavy, judging by the way he grunted as he carried it.
‘Where do you want this?’
‘What is it?’
‘How should I know?’
‘Oh… of course… I’ll take it.’
Posy held out her arms and he dropped it into them, and even though she’d expected it to be a bit heavy, she almost fell backward under the unexpected strain.
‘Do I have to sign for it?’ she puffed, but the driver was already down the path and getting into his van.
‘I guess that’s a no then,’ she said.
A moment later the van was gone in a cloud of blue smoke that suggested at least one engine in the capital wasn’t going to pass any imminent emissions testing. Posy took the box and set it on the doorstep while she got her keys out. Luckily, Carmel had heard the exchange and appeared, ready to give Posy a hand bringing the box in.
‘What on earth could it be?’ she asked. ‘I haven’t ordered anything – have you?’
‘Not that I can recall,’ Posy said. ‘Better open it and find out – it might have come to the wrong address.’
‘Lord, I hope not; that’s one distraction I can do without today. I’ve got that Kew Garden commission to finish before the weekend and I’m nowhere near.’
‘Well, it’s not our job to send it on anyway,’ Posy said, though, in reality, she knew from experience that Carmel would feel responsible for that task whether it was hers or not. She wouldn’t be able to relax until she was sure it had reached its rightful destination.
Carmel went to the drawer and returned with a kitchen knife. Quickly she slit the tape sealing the box and opened it up to reveal about a dozen bottle tops. Posy lifted one out to look at the label.
‘It’s cider from the orchard!’ she gasped. She looked up to see Carmel smiling broadly.
‘Oh how lovely!’
Carmel pulled a card out from down the side of the box. ‘“You never got to sample the new variety”,’ she read out. ‘“We thought you might like a crate to enjoy at your leisure at home. We hope you like it. Please don’t be a stranger to Oleander House. Lots of love, Giles, Asa and San
dra.” Isn’t that the loveliest thing?’ Carmel looked up, and Posy fought to keep tears from her eyes. This meant a lot to both of them; more than a kind gesture of friendship, it was acceptance of Carmel and Posy into their lives.
‘Oh, and there are cider cocktail recipes!’ Carmel added, pulling out a slim booklet and flicking through it. ‘These look wonderful – we’ll have to try some. We must email them to say thank you!’ She began to search for the phone she often left lying around only to forget exactly where just moments later.
‘I’d better go, Mum,’ Posy said, suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be on her way to work by now. ‘I’ll message them later.’
‘Oh, yes, of course, darling.’ Carmel slipped over to kiss her lightly on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you in time for supper tonight? It’s my turn to cook. I thought we might have those Thai fishcakes you like.’
‘You will,’ Posy said. ‘And I’m guessing we might have a nice bottle of scrumpy to go with that?’
‘Absolutely!’ Carmel said.
Posy turned to leave the house a second time, a beaming smile on her face and thoughts of Somerset once more in her head. It seemed that Oleander House just wasn’t going to leave her alone.
* * *
She’d already resigned herself to the fact that she was late, but her boss, Joanna, wasn’t usually a stickler for time in that way. As long as Posy got her work done, if she started a little later or finished a little earlier from time to time then that was OK. All Joanna cared about was a steady stream of happy clients, and how they got to that state of nirvana was open to interpretation, so Posy wasn’t unduly worried as she walked into the glass-walled central London office of Torsten Design.
That quickly changed. Every one of her colleagues was huddled around a single desk, deep in conversation.
‘What’s going on?’
Everyone turned sharply at Posy’s question. Some looked guilty, some worried, and at least two looked downright terrified. Every one of her colleagues was there apart from her boss, who was nowhere to be seen.
The Little Orchard on the Lane: An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy Page 8
