Appointment at the Altar

by Jessica Hart

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t call me Cinders,’ she muttered, not knowing what else to say. ‘It’s stupid.’

  ‘This Richard isn’t going to want you to change just because he’s ill,’ said Guy, ignoring her interjection. ‘If anything, he would want you to be even more yourself than usual. It’s enough that you’re going home when you don’t really want to. You don’t need to feel guilty as well.’

  ‘But I do,’ Lucy blurted out. ‘It feels as if it’s all my fault that Richard is in such a bad way.’

  Guy didn’t quite roll his eyes, but there was an exaggerated patience in the way he folded his paper. ‘What, you drove the car that put Richard in a coma?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she said, glad to feel a spurt of irritation with him. That was much more like it! ‘But I know Meredith thinks that he had the accident because he wasn’t concentrating, and he wasn’t concentrating because he was upset about me.’ She took a morose sip of champagne. ‘She hasn’t said anything, but I know she blames me for leaving.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Guy. ‘So you and Richard were more than just friends?’

  Lucy nodded. ‘But not much more,’ she said quickly. ‘We went out for a while, but that’s all. It wasn’t a big deal. He was a friend of Meredith’s and I didn’t realise until too late that she was in love with him, but hadn’t let on to anyone how she felt. So Richard didn’t have a clue, and I didn’t either. I would never have gone out with him if I’d known.

  ‘It’s not that Richard isn’t lovely-he is. He’s very intelligent and charming and nice-looking and…steady, I suppose. I’d just broken up with a boyfriend who was the opposite of that. Tom was great fun, but he was wild and unreliable and Richard seemed like a grown-up next to him, so when he asked me out, I couldn’t see any reason to say no.’

  Guy had turned slightly in his seat to listen to her. ‘When did you realise how Meredith felt about him?’

  ‘Not until about a month later.’ Lucy turned the champagne flute in her hands, remembering how aghast she had been. ‘If only she’d told me! But that’s typical of Meredith.’ She sighed. ‘She keeps everything to herself. I only found out by accident. I just happened to see her face in the mirror when I was talking about Richard, and suddenly it was so obvious, I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t guessed before.’

  ‘It must have been an awkward situation,’ commented Guy.

  ‘I felt awful.’ It was a relief being able to talk to Guy about it, Lucy realised. ‘Meredith’s my big sister and she’s done everything for me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her. I would never have encouraged Richard if I’d known how she felt.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘The honest truth is that Richard and I weren’t going anywhere. He’s lovely, but a bit serious for me, and we didn’t really have much in common, not like him and Meredith. I thought that Richard felt the same way and that the best thing would be for me to leave. If I was out of the way, I was sure they’d get together and everything would be all right.’

  Guy glanced at her and his eyes gleamed. ‘That was very selfless of you, Lucy.’

  Lucy had the grace to blush a little. ‘I’m not saying that it didn’t suit me. The fact is that I was bored with my job and feeling restless anyway. I’d always loved the idea of the outback and it seemed the perfect opportunity to get a working visa and go.

  ‘That’s how I ended up at Wirrindago, and I’ve been so happy there,’ she said with a wistful smile. ‘Meredith was furious with me for going, though. She said I’d hurt Richard and that I was being selfish, and things were rather strained between us when I left. I didn’t honestly think that Richard was that upset, but she told me yesterday that he was devastated. Apparently he’s been confiding in her. She says he still loves me and that’s why they all want me to go back now but, to be honest, I felt worse about hurting Meredith.’

  Lucy grimaced at the very thought of how unhappy her sister must have been when she’d walked off with Richard under her nose. ‘Meredith was known as the sensible one and I was the party girl who never settled down to anything. We lost our mother when we were both small and it was always Meredith who looked after me.’

  ‘It seems to me that she’s still doing that,’ said Guy. ‘And you let her.’

  Lucy paused with the champagne glass halfway to her lips. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Who was it who arranged everything with Hal so that you could go back?’ he asked, unfolding his paper once more. ‘You didn’t even think about booking a flight. You just assumed Meredith would do it for you. And if Meredith isn’t around, I’ll bet there’s always someone else-like me on this occasion-who’ll sort things out for you.’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ she said, but her voice didn’t hold quite enough conviction, and Guy glanced at her face before he returned to the Financial Times.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ he said.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WAS that how Guy thought of her? As a lazy brat who let others organise her life for her? Lucy shifted uneasily in her seat. The trouble was that Meredith was so competent that it was often easier to let her do things her own way. But that didn’t mean she was spoilt, she thought defensively.

  Did it?

  A little sulkily, Lucy pulled out the in-flight magazine and began to flick through it mindlessly. The truth was that she didn’t like the idea that Guy thought that she was, especially when she had dismissed him as a spoilt trust-fund baby at first. There was irony for you.

  But it was hard to stay grumpy when you were continually being plied with delicious food and wine and exhorted to lie back and make yourself comfortable, and Lucy’s spirits, naturally buoyant, soon rose.

  She had never travelled in such style before. She wasn’t even bored. The complimentary bag of toiletries was fun to unpack. There were films to watch, magazines to read, a drink on hand whenever she felt like one, and the ultimate luxury of a seat that folded completely flat into a bed. The long flight was an odd kind of limbo time when all she could do was sit there, so Lucy determined that she might as well enjoy doing nothing while she could.

  It was only as they began their descent into Heathrow, down through the clouds into a murky London dawn, that her mood began to sink with the plane. It would soon be time to face reality again. She would have to go and see Richard in the hospital, but what if he didn’t come out of his coma? She couldn’t hang around indefinitely. She didn’t have any money and even though Meredith had said that she could live in-

  ‘Oh!’ Lucy’s hand went to her mouth in an involuntary gesture as she remembered.

  ‘What is it?’ Guy stopped in the middle of a long stretch and looked at her dismayed expression in concern.

  ‘It was all such a rush before we left that Meredith forgot to give me the keys to her house!’

  ‘Or perhaps you forgot to ask for them,’ he suggested gently.

  Lucy opened her mouth to make a sharp retort, but stopped herself just in time. Closing it again, she made herself count to ten. ‘Yes,’ she agreed through her teeth after a moment, ‘you’re right, of course. I forgot to remind her about them.’

  She sighed. ‘I’ll have to call round some friends to see if anyone can put me up.’ Her shoulders slumped. ‘I was dying for a shower, too!’

  ‘It’s a bit early to ring round in search of a bed isn’t it?’ said Guy, glancing at his watch. ‘It’s not six yet. I can’t see you getting many warm invitations to pop straight round at this hour of the morning.’

  Lucy made a face. ‘I’ll try Meg first. She’s an old friend.’ An old friend who was notoriously grumpy in the mornings. ‘She’ll forgive me…I hope!’

  ‘Why don’t you come back with me?’ suggested Guy. ‘I’ve got a car meeting me, and the flat has a couple of spare rooms. You could have a shower and call the hospital and your friends from there.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, but I think you’ve done more than enough,’ said Lucy firmly. She hadn’t forgotten his suggestion that she was
incapable of looking after herself. She would show Guy that she could manage perfectly well on her own. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  But when they got to the baggage hall she discovered that she had no charge on her phone. Lucy sighed. Why did this kind of thing keep happening to her? She could spend all morning at Heathrow, trying to contact Meg on a public phone.

  Or she could swallow her pride and ask Guy if she could take him up on his offer after all.

  Lucky she had never been that proud.

  Her jaw actually dropped when she saw Guy’s apartment. After first class and the luxury of stepping into a sleek limousine that had pulled up right outside the terminal, she had thought that she might be getting blasé, but the apartment block in the heart of London’s Docklands was a different world altogether.

  ‘Home’ was too cosy a word for Guy’s penthouse, right at the top of the soaring tower, with heart-stopping three hundred and sixty degree views across London. He had access to a fabulous bar, a gym, a spa and even a private cinema with reclining leather seats should he care to see the latest film with a few friends in comfort.

  It could hardly have been more different from the isolated homestead at Wirrindago. Strange to think that they had been there only the day before.

  ‘Gosh,’ was all she could say when Guy showed her into his apartment. It was like stepping into something from a design magazine. The curved wall of the huge living area was made entirely of glass, opening on to a balcony with a spectacular view over the great bend of the Thames far below. The floor was of polished oak, and the entire apartment was decorated in cream and neutrals that created a sense of light and calm.

  Lucy wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t been impressed, although she did her best not to look too intimidated. The kitchen was all steel and granite and electronic control panels. ‘A bit different from the kitchen at Wirrindago, isn’t it?’ she said.

  ‘I believe it was designed by NASA,’ said Guy, straight-faced. ‘I get up in the morning and think, What shall I do? Boil an egg or launch a space shuttle?’

  Lucy laughed. ‘Do you ever do anything as boring as cook in it?’

  ‘Nope. Cooking is not one of my talents,’ he admitted.

  ‘It seems a shame to have all this and not use it,’ she said, running her hand over the granite worktop.

  Guy shrugged. ‘I can order in food if I have guests, or there are plenty of restaurants round here. I tend just to keep the basics. The housekeeping service should have stocked the fridge.’ He opened the steel door. ‘Ah, yes…milk, orange juice, water…There should be bread and fruit somewhere, too,’ he added as he closed the fridge. ‘Help yourself to whatever you want.’

  He showed Lucy into a room with a floor to ceiling window looking down on to the river and the vibrant commercial centre that had grown out of the old docks of London. Even in the dull light, the glass windows of the great towers glittered as they thrust upwards, and it was hard to imagine that once great ships had been tied up at the quays and wharfs that were now home to bars and shops and cafés.

  The view was impressive enough, but Lucy actually gasped when she saw the bathroom. ‘This is fabulous!’ she said. ‘I’ll never dare use it!’

  ‘I thought you were desperate for a shower?’

  ‘I am, but once I’m in there, I may never want to leave. I’d better ring Richard’s mother first, anyway,’ she said, guiltily remembering why she was there. ‘May I use your phone until my mobile is charged up?’

  Guy went to have a shower himself while she was talking to Richard’s mother, and as he came out of his room a little later he saw Lucy put down the phone with a tiny grimace.

  ‘Bad news?’

  ‘Not really. Richard’s much the same, I gather. I can go and see him this afternoon.’

  Guy’s hair was wet from the shower and he was buttoning up his shirt. The action seemed extraordinarily intimate and Lucy averted her eyes, suddenly self-conscious. ‘I’m afraid his mother is expecting miracles, though.’

  ‘In what way?’ Barefoot, Guy walked over to the kitchen and filled the kettle. ‘Fancy some coffee?’

  ‘That would be wonderful,’ said Lucy, subsiding gratefully on to one of the chrome stools at the kitchen bar. In spite of sleeping on the plane, she was suddenly so tired that she thought even coffee wouldn’t be able to keep her awake.

  She pushed her hair wearily away from her face. ‘Ellen seems convinced that Richard will wake up as soon as I open my mouth.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m hoping they haven’t got the wrong idea.’

  Guy was wrestling with the coffee machine, which like everything else in the apartment was the latest cutting-edge technology. ‘Sometimes I miss instant coffee,’ he said with a grunt of frustration. ‘At least you didn’t need a degree in computer science whenever you wanted a mug of coffee.’

  ‘Let me.’ Lucy slid off her stool and went over to push him out of the way. ‘There you go,’ she said smugly and, as if by magic, the machine purred into life.

  ‘How did you do that?’ Guy stared at her, impressed.

  ‘I worked in a café for a while,’ she said, climbing back on to her stool. ‘I may not be able to rope a calf, but I can make coffee.’

  ‘Which is, frankly, a lot more useful in Canary Wharf.’ Guy opened the fridge again to find milk and orange juice. ‘So, what have Richard’s parents got the wrong idea about?’

  ‘Ellen seems to be under the impression that I rushed back to see him the moment I heard he was ill because I’m still in love with him,’ said Lucy glumly. ‘She was talking as if Richard and I will get engaged the moment he wakes up.’

  Guy found some glasses and poured two glasses of juice. ‘Tell them about Kevin,’ he advised. ‘If they know you’re in love with someone else, they won’t waste their time hoping it will all be all right when Richard comes round. It’s much better to be honest.’

  Lucy brightened. ‘Yes, I suppose I could mention Kevin if it starts getting awkward. That’s a good idea.’ She yawned hugely. ‘Sorry, it’s all catching up on me.’

  ‘You could have a nap if you don’t have to go to the hospital until this afternoon.’

  ‘I might do that after I’ve rung Meg.’ She registered what he was wearing for the first time. ‘Are you going to work?’ she asked in surprise.

  ‘Of course. We’re back in the city now,’ said Guy, putting on an air of importance. ‘Places to go, things to do, people to see…You know how it is!’

  ‘You probably just want to show off your tan,’ she said, a little snip in her voice, and he grinned.

  ‘That too. I’ll let you have the door codes,’ he told her, ‘and then you can come and go as you want.’

  The apartment was empty when Lucy got back from the hospital that evening. She frowned, looking at her watch. Surely Guy wasn’t still at the office? He hadn’t said he’d be this late.

  But then, he hadn’t said when he would be back, and why should he? He didn’t have to account to her. She was just his cousin’s cook, and a man like Guy would no doubt have a scintillating social life to go with his ultra-glamorous apartment. He would be out every night at parties or in clubs, eating in expensive restaurants and mixing with the celebrity A-list.

  Lucy looked around at the stylish furniture and minimalist décor. No, this wasn’t the kind of apartment you came back to for cosy nights in, to collapse on the sofa after a hard day at work and watch television with a take-away. It was the sort of place you brought your beautiful, sophisticated girlfriend and seduced her with the lights of London at your feet.

  Maybe Guy was with that beautiful someone right now. He might be in the middle of a passionate reunion, bemoaning the fact that he couldn’t take his girlfriend back to the apartment because it was occupied by someone who wasn’t in the slightest bit sophisticated. Lucy looked down at her jeans and T-shirt and only just stopped herself sighing in time.

  Of course, she didn’t know that he had a girlfriend, but Guy seemed like the kind of man who wo
uld always have the prettiest woman on his arm. He hadn’t mentioned anyone at Wirrindago, but that didn’t mean anything. The conversation around the table there was strictly masculine and didn’t include any discussion of emotions or relationships. They could have had a wife and six children apiece for all Lucy would have gathered from their talk.

  Lucy helped herself to an apple from the fruit bowl and wandered around the vast living area. She told herself that she was keeping her mind off how hungry she felt, but the truth was that she was just being nosy. There were a few photos out, all in stylish frames, and she picked them up to study them curiously. She recognised one of Wirrindago, of Guy as a boy with a much younger-looking Hal. There was a couple she assumed were his parents, and the odd picture of friends, sailing or skiing, but definitely no couple shots.

  Hmm.

  She was holding a photo of Guy as a young man, tanned and tousle-haired on a surfboard, when the sound of the door opening made her jump. Quickly, she put the frame down and turned to see Guy himself. He brought a burst of energy into the room with him and the apartment, which had seemed so cold and empty a moment ago, was suddenly alive.

  The air seemed to whoosh out of Lucy’s lungs at the sight of him and for a moment she struggled to breathe. He was at once terrifyingly familiar and yet a stranger in his immaculate suit and tie. They made him look older, more responsible, even a little intimidating, and Lucy felt suddenly, ridiculously, shy.

  But then his eyes fell on her and he smiled and, having just remembered how to operate her lungs, she promptly forgot how to breathe again. He was Guy once more, Guy with those warm blue eyes and that curling mouth and the laughter in his voice, Guy who had cantered around the ring on his horse, testing the lasso in his hand. He had never made her feel quite like this, though.

  ‘Hello, there,’ he said.

  ‘Hi.’ Lucy was appalled to hear her voice come out as no more than a squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘That was a long day at the office after a flight from Australia. You must be tired.’