The Jersey Scene series box set

by Georgina Troy

  “I’m sorry, Bea. I don’t know what he was saying to you, but I’d bet a pound to a penny he didn’t see that coming either.”

  Bea turned to face Shani. “He knew it was coming, he didn’t even flinch. He certainly didn’t argue with her,” she snapped. “I’m confused, that’s all. I think he means one thing and then something happens to make me realise I’ve totally misread the situation. I’ve made a bit of a twit of myself. It doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it.”

  “Hey, girls.” Tom strode into the room. “Please don’t worry about clearing up. My cleaning lady has agreed to come in for an extra couple of hours tomorrow morning to do it all.”

  “On a Sunday?” asked Shani, staggered that anyone would need to pay someone to clear up so little mess.

  “Yes, she said she’s happy to have an excuse to get away from her husband for a bit, and its extra money, so who am I to argue?”

  Shani shrugged. “Fine, you don’t have to tell me twice. We may as well head for home and leave you in peace.”

  “Thanks for a lovely evening.” Bea gave Tom a kiss on the cheek. “Everyone had a wonderful time.”

  “Yes, I thought it went well. I’ll let you all get on your way then and see you at the office on Monday. Thanks for coming.” Tom patted her on the back, returning to Mel and Grant in the lounge.

  Shani looked sideways at Bea. “Er, I would ask what that was all about, but you won’t answer me truthfully, so I shan’t bother. Ouch, this baby can’t half kick.”

  “Poor you, maybe he’ll end up being a premier league footballer and keeping his mother in the manner she wishes to get accustomed to.”

  Shani dried her hands. “Don’t think I’ve missed you changing the subject just now.”

  Bea held the door open for her friend. “Come on, let’s go,” she said. It was time for her to stop wasting emotion on someone who was already spoken for. Enough was enough. Bea knew it was time to move on from Luke and focus on her future. She had a lot to sort out, and now was the time to get on and do it.

  TWENTY-TWO

  First of May - The Scent of Lilies

  Bea sniffed the intoxicating perfume of the lilies of the valley she’d picked from the garden earlier that morning and scrolled down her phone directory to find the number for her lawyer. It was nine days to crunch time, or D-Day as Simon had teased her, and she was relieved she had taken the day off work. Bea was also glad she’d thought to use the same man her aunt always went to.

  “I’m sorry Annabel’s house is considered part of your marriage settlement,” he said, shuffling papers in the background. Bea didn’t know how he ever found anything on his permanently untidy desk. “I know it seems very unfair to you, and I know she would be unhappy to think Mr Porter benefiting in any way from her death. I think the best thing we can do is include in my court papers the confirmation that your aunt had booked an appointment to see me, but died before she was able to do so.”

  “Do you think it’ll help?”

  “I can’t be certain. The judge has to base his judgment concentrating on the legalities of each case, not the emotions behind them.”

  Bea chewed her lower lip; this was so frustrating. “What about the Martin Order my sister told me about?” Bea needed some good news. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could afford to keep up this fight against Simon.

  “It’s a good idea. However, realistically, unless you have something with which to bargain, or a way of persuading your ex-husband, then you’ll be hard pushed to get him to accept this suggestion. By agreeing to the order, he’ll, in effect, be giving up any rights to the property, or any monetary gain from its sale.”

  “Mmm, I can’t see him doing that.” Bea chewed her lower lip for a moment. “But you think it’s worth a try?”

  “Definitely. You won’t lose anything by speaking to him. I could write to him formally with the suggestion, but I think sometimes these things are better dealt with on a more, shall we say, personal level.”

  Bea also knew how much a letter from him would cost her. She checked her watch, concerned that she was being charged for every six minutes he spoke to her. “I thought I’d speak to his girlfriend,” Bea said, picturing going to Claire’s apartment and knocking on her door.

  “Worth a go, and Beatrice? Your aunt was a close friend of mine for many years; I want you to know how proud of you she would have been.”

  Bea swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you.” The last thing she wanted to do was sell The Brae, but if all else failed then she wouldn’t have much choice. She didn’t relish the thought of having to move Shani out either. Not when she’d been so relieved at the thought of moving in with her baby, but whether she liked it or not, Bea knew she was running out of options, as well as time. She glanced up at her wall calendar. “First of May, only nine days until court.” She ruffled Flea’s head.

  She thought through her plan and decided that the best chance she’d having of getting anywhere with Claire would ideally be when Simon was away on one of his business trips, but she had no idea if he had any booked in the next few days, but as long as she went to the apartment when he was out, that was all that mattered.

  Bea’s alarm on her mobile pinged. “Hell,” she groaned, already running late for lunch with her stepmother and Mel at Chica’s Restaurant. She couldn’t wait for the wedding to be over and not have to spend so much time with them, but it meant a lot to her dad, so she grabbed her keys and went to collect them, wishing she’d thought to meet them there, rather than give them a lift.

  They waited for Mel to pay for a pink crystal she had fallen in love with in the adjoining shop. “It’ll be perfect to hang in my bathroom window,” she said dreamily. “Oh look, Bea, there’s…” Mel started, leading the way out of the shop and into the small courtyard.

  “Who’ve you seen, dear?” Joyce asked, looking through the window to where diners were seated around numerous metal tables and chairs eating their lunch alfresco under the overhead gas heaters.

  “Er no one, it wasn’t anyone,” she insisted, grabbing Bea by the arm and pulling her away through an archway towards the car park. “I think it’s full here, let’s try somewhere else.”

  Intrigued by her sister’s reaction, Bea turned to peer over Mel’s bony shoulder and was astonished to see Tom, head bent towards Vanessa, as he listened to something she was saying.

  “Please don’t cause a scene,” Mel begged, pulling her intrigued mother with her free hand. “Let’s go and have lunch somewhere else.”

  Joyce took her lead from Mel and, hating a drama more than most things, nodded her agreement. “Yes, darling, let’s go.”

  Bea frowned and followed. Why would she want to make a fuss? Surely, they didn’t still believe that she had any feelings for Tom, she thought, irritated by their persistence, but not minding leaving before sitting through lunch. Aware Tom had spotted her, she gave a discreet wave. His serious expression contradicted Vanessa’s triumphant one. Bea walked to her dusty car. “Everybody in,” she said.

  Bea had barely closed the front door on her arrival home when the phone rang. Noticing it was Tom’s number, she decided to ignore it. The answer-phone clicked in.

  “Bea, this is Tom. Pick up the phone. I want to explain about meeting Vanessa for lunch.”

  Bea picked up the phone and sat down on the Bishop’s seat in the hallway. “Tom,” she sighed. “I don’t know why you feel the need to do this. There’s nothing going on between us and if you and Vanessa want to get back together then I think it’s great.”

  There was a momentary pause. “Bea, I only met Vanessa at Chica’s because we needed to discuss the children and I thought she wouldn’t get all dramatic on me if we met somewhere public.”

  “Whatever, it’s not my business. I don’t really know why you care what I think.”

  “What do you mean?” He sounded hurt.

  “Tom, we’re not seeing each other. I’m happy by myself. We work together and yes, we do sometime
s go out in a crowd together, but I really don’t have a problem if you go out with anyone else.”

  “We get along well though?”

  She could hear the neediness in his voice and had to concentrate on not snapping at him. “We do, and we can still go out for the occasional meal together, but as friends. I hope your ex-wife doesn’t think there’s more going on between us than there is, because I’m not up for being used as some sort of pawn between you both.”

  “Everything’s fine. There’s nothing going on, really.”

  She wasn’t sure what she was missing, but something didn’t feel right about this, she decided.

  Later that evening, Bea was pleased to find Shani still up watching television in the living room. “What’s the matter?” she asked, noticing the grim look on Shani’s face. Then it dawned on her. “Mel’s phoned, hasn’t she?”

  Shani sighed dramatically and threw her head back against the sofa. “She ranted on for over an hour tonight.”

  “Oh no, poor you,” Bea laughed sympathetically.

  “Poor me, indeed, I had to keep moving the phone from one ear to the other, they were so hot. I thought she’d never go, and she doesn’t get hints, even big ones, like ‘sod off Mel, I’m knackered’. Thankfully, Grant started complaining about their dinner getting cold.” She pushed herself up and followed Bea through to the kitchen.

  “What’s the latest, dare I ask?” Bea sniffed and tried not to smile at the realisation that Shani must have burnt her toast again. She made them both a mug of tea.

  “You mean, apart from you catching Tom being seen with Vanessa?” Shani teased.

  “I know. Mel and Joyce really can be painful sometimes, especially when they get together. Those two love any hint of a drama.”

  “I suppose he had a good excuse for being out with his ex?”

  Bea rolled her eyes. “Who cares? I think they’re trying to make each other jealous, or something childish like that. I’m not going to get caught up in his problems.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and twisted a band around it. “I suppose Mel wants us to meet with her wedding planner again then?”

  “’Fraid so, and she wants us to help her put the seating plan together next weekend and I couldn’t think of an excuse quick enough to get out of it.”

  “Balls.”

  “Balls indeed.” Shani pushed her swollen fingers through her short black hair. “The fatter I get the less my brain seems to connect, and as if it couldn’t get any worse, guess who’s coming to help?”

  “Please don’t tell me my stepmother will be there, too?” Shani nodded slowly, an agonised expression on her tanned face. “She is.”

  “Thank God we’ve only got another few days of this wedding stuff,” Bea said.

  ****

  “You’ll never guess what?” Mel asked, as they sat at a stark white table surrounded by fake flower arrangements, white, pink and grey chiffon and several heavy black folders at the wedding planner’s studio. “Paige bumped into Leilani the other day and she insists they’re having an enormous wedding in early September.”

  A tingling sensation shot through Bea’s chest. She concentrated on not changing her expression.

  “So soon?” Shani asked. “How the hell are they going to book everything at such short notice?”

  “No idea.” Mel waved the feather from her pink flamingo pen across her cheek. “Especially when you think she’ll have to arrange hotels and flights and such for her family and friends from the States. I don’t fancy her chances of being able to book anywhere decent at this late stage.”

  “You have to book at least a year in advance for the better hotels,” Joyce sniffed. “I don’t know who this young woman thinks she is, but this is Jersey, not Texas and there aren’t many places catering for larger weddings over here. It’ll be like an episode of Dallas I shouldn’t wonder.”

  “True,” Mel said looking a little happier. “I do like Leilani.” Shani snorted loudly. Mel ignored her. “But she acts like she’s something special and she’s very spoilt. If she thinks she can pick and choose, she’s in for a shock.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t fancy Luke’s chances when she puts her mind to having something and not getting it.”

  Shani laughed. “Hey, that’s a point. They’ll either have to put the date back to next year or at a quieter time this season or maybe just have a smaller wedding.”

  “Can’t see that happening, can you, Bea?” Mel asked. “Bea, what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” Bea shrugged. “I was just thinking.”

  “What about?” her stepmother asked. “Are you feeling all right? You do look rather peaky. I hope you’re not going to come down with anything ghastly.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured her. “If Mel has a hundred guests, we can have ten on the top table, with the rest of the guests seated around a further ten tables.”

  Shani and Mel stared at each other. “Weren’t you listening?” Mel asked. “We were saying…”

  “Melanie, I know what you were saying,” Bea interrupted. “But I’d rather get on with these wedding plans than waste time wondering what Leilani and Luke are doing. Now can we please get on?”

  “Quite right.” Joyce raised her eyebrows pointedly at Mel. “About the table decorations, I have a folder here with several cuttings from recent bride magazines.”

  The wedding planner re-joined them. “I think we’re nearly in agreement about the main points. The colour scheme ties in beautifully with your dress, and the groom’s cravat and waistcoat. Now we want to make sure you’re completely happy with the floral arrangements. There’ll be no changing your mind after today.”

  “But we still have eight days left,” Joyce said, pushing forward her folder. “I have a few suggestions here.”

  “The flowers will need to be flown in, Mrs Philips and sourced by my contacts in England. There won’t be any time for changing minds.”

  Bea noticed Shani steal a peek at her, and then thinking better of saying anything, took one of the folders and flicked through it.

  “There are some surreal ideas in here. Hey, look at this one.” Shani pointed at an ostrich feather standing in a small iron base in the shape of a bride’s shoe with tiny brides and grooms hanging from it at odd angles.

  “There’ll be none of that tat on Melanie’s tables, Shani, thank you very much,” Joyce insisted. “No, we decided on a shallow vase with one or two orchids floating inside for each table. Simple, yet classy.”

  “That sounds lovely.” Bea winked at Shani. “I think Shani’s hormones are giving her strange ideas.”

  “Well at least we know my wedding photos are going to be incredible.”

  “What do you mean?” Shani looked at Bea and raised an eyebrow.

  “Now that Luke is to be Grant’s best man, of course.” Bea opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of anything to say. What was Mel up to now?

  Mel lowered her voice, so her mother couldn’t hear. “It did take a bit of persuasion from Grant.” Bea thought an old school friend was going to be his best man. She wanted to hear what else Mel had to say, so didn’t interrupt. “Since our engagement party, they’ve spent quite a lot of time together,” Mel said. “Don’t forget they knew each other from school, they go way back. Grant says he still feels guilty for breaking Luke’s nose during a rugby match years ago.”

  So that’s what happened to it, thought Bea, liking the extra character the bump gave his otherwise perfect face.

  “I just wish Leilani didn’t have to come. No doubt she’ll look amazing,” Mel added.

  “I bet she will,” Bea and Shani said in unison.

  “And you,” Mel nodded at Bea, “as my maid of honour will be partnered with Luke now. Won’t that be fun?”

  “Yes.” Bea forced a smile, Mel must have missed the point when she said she thought the small children should be bridesmaids, obviously Mel assumed being a maid of honour was something else entirely. The sooner this wedding was over and done
with the better as far as she was concerned.

  “Don’t interfere now, Melanie,” Joyce snapped. “Concentrate on these exquisite place cards.”

  “Before your sister rams one up your nose,” Shani whispered, leaning close to Bea.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Second of May - Blooming Fabulous

  Bea couldn’t believe how large Shani’s stomach had grown and had to concentrate on not staring at it. She was relieved that the wedding would soon be over, and she could concentrate solely on her legal problems. Mel was driving her nuts and the atmosphere between Paul and Shani was exhausting. It was only seven days until the first anniversary of Annabel’s death and Bea was dreading every second of it. She couldn’t believe her aunt had been gone for almost an entire year.

  She turned her thoughts to Paul and how terrified he seemed to be about being there when Shani gave birth, and if she was honest, Bea felt the same way. She shivered and patted her mobile. The contact details of the maternity ward were there, the taxi firm number was there, too. There was no need to panic. It never ceased to amaze Bea that someone could live on an island only five miles by nine and not bump into people for years, especially, she brooded, if they didn’t want you to. And she was pretty sure Luke was avoiding her. She had kept a low profile socially and, as much as she missed seeing him, she felt it was the only way to deal with being in love with someone she couldn’t have. She wasn’t sure why he was keeping away, though. It was going to be difficult enough seeing him at the wedding, she thought, hoping she remembered to watch every word she said to him.

  “Have you thought more about where we can book to go for Mel’s hen night?” she asked Shani. “We’ve already left it a bit late to arrange something.” The sun had just forced its way out through a layer of thick clouds after a particularly forceful shower. Everything in her garden shone as Bea pulled on her Wellington boots in anticipation of a couple of hours of therapeutic weeding.

  “Really? I thought she didn’t want to do anything. Anyway, you think this bulk will want to party right now?” Shani panted, rubbing her back and sitting down on the large pine carver.