by Katie Fforde
‘That would have been quite a nice thought,' said Bron. 'Tell me, would you have ever made a move on me if I hadn't practically got into your bed?'
‘Oh yes. Any time now I would have been asking you to dance and then kissing you.' – Bron sighed. What had just taken place was a little bit more than kissing. 'So why wait so long?'
‘I only just found out for sure that you did really fancy me.'
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘Vanessa told me.’
Bron took the pillow and put it over her head. 'What?’
‘When she told me that I had to go with you to this wedding she told me in no uncertain terms that you fancied me and that I'd be a fool not to snap you up. I think she thought I wouldn't work it out for myself '
‘You didn't,' mumbled Bron, still under the pillow. 'Vanessa knew when I first came to work for her I'd just broken up a long-term relationship. She probably thought she needed to help us along.’
Bron mumbled some more.
‘Come out from under there.' He confiscated the pillow.
'I'm so embarrassed!'
‘I really don't know why. By the way, Vanessa says, when we're ready to move in together, she'll let us have the flat above the old stables. Much more space for us, and she can rent out both our houses.'
‘Oh, she really is the limit!' Bron laughed. 'Mind you, it's very kind of her to do that. Not that I'll be ready to move in with you for ages,' she added haughtily, trying to snatch back some pride.
‘Why is that?’
James had a soft, low voice and he asked this question very close to her ear. Bron found herself sighing instead of blushing and there was no more conversation for a while.
Somehow they got themselves back to the party. Bron insisted. She was still blushing inside at her brazenness.
She really didn't want her friends putting two and two together and working out what had gone on.
Of course, as soon as she saw Sarah she realised it would have been better to stay put. One glance from her put Sarah in full possession of all the facts.
‘Oh Bron,' she said, kissing her cheek. 'And James! All loved-up – how wonderful!'
‘Is it that obvious?' pleaded Bron.
"Fraid so.' Sarah kissed James too, and Bron wondered if she was beginning to lose her iron grip on events. 'I'm a very lucky man,' said James. 'Now, come and dance,' he said to Bron, and took her hand.
Chapter Forty-Four
Sarah was very pleased to see Bron and James looking so happy. While true love was definitely not something she'd experienced, she was coming round to the fact that it did work for others. Elsa and Laurence were waltzing round the ballroom looking like a couple on a greetings card. She sighed deeply and pushed Hugo out of her mind. At that very moment he appeared, almost as if she had conjured him up.
‘Are you planning to work all night?' he asked. 'Carrie's gone; everything is fine. You could knock off now.'
‘While there are still so many people here I feel I must hang around to help clear up.'
‘Well, come and have a drink with me. I've taken a million pictures and I'm shattered.’
It was so unlike Hugo to sound tired that Sarah, weakened by her own fatigue and the temptation of putting her feet up, for a little while at least, agreed and she followed him until they reached the empty kitchen. Signs of the wedding were everywhere. Crockery that had unexpectedly been commandeered at the last minute -bedroom jugs that had been needed for water, wicker trugs for bread, almost anything that had been used for flowers – had found its way back to the kitchen and now littered every surface.
Automatically, Sarah went to the butler's sink and started to fill it.
‘Don't you dare wash up, come and sit with me,' ordered Hugo. 'Here, have some of this. It's special.’
From behind a shelf of cookery books he produced a bottle. A couple of small glasses came from the same cache and he put both on the table.
‘Is that Rupert's, or yours?' asked Sarah. She didn't want to accept Hugo's offer of a drink if it was really Rupert's. There was plenty of alcohol upstairs she wouldn't feel bad about drinking.
‘It's mine. I put it here earlier for just this occasion.’
‘Which is?' She pulled out a chair.
He didn't answer. He just smiled and poured a small amount of the drink into each glass. He handed her one. 'It's Armagnac. I brought it back from France a while ago.’
She sipped. It was delicious. Hugo pulled out a chair and sat opposite her, so their knees were almost touching. Sarah tried very hard to ignore the bolt of electricity and heat that went through her, and not just from the brandy. Her resistance was rapidly melting away. As Hugo set the bottle down Sarah noticed marks on the back of his hand. One of them had been bleeding. Without thinking she put down her glass and took hold of the damaged hand.
‘You're hurt! How did this happen?' The moment the words were out she realised she knew how it had happened – the action of holding his hand was familiar. 'I did it, didn't I? Those are my nail marks – Hugo, I had no idea-’
He didn't wait for her apology. He put his free hand on her cheek and pulled her gently towards him and kissed her.
Sarah had been through a lot that day, her defences were wafer thin and his mouth on hers was more than enough to demolish them. She felt she could have sat at the table, kissing Hugo, tasting the brandy, feeling the contact between his tongue and hers for ever. The outside world faded away and she never wanted to move. Weeks of trying not to think about him, dream about him, about the kisses, telling herself he was no good for her, he was with someone else, dissolved. For the moment she could forget about Electra. For the moment, Hugo was hers.
Someone, one of the caterers possibly, came into the room, saw what was going on and apologised before backing out again.
‘Come on,' said Hugo. 'We can't stay here.’
Sarah followed where he led, up the back stairs to a bedroom under the eaves. 'The servants' quarters,' he explained as they went. 'Which is why Rupert put me here.'
‘Here' was a long low room right under the roof at the front of the house, on the opposite side to where she and Elsa were supposed to be sleeping, she briefly noted before she joined him in the room. The only light was from the long row of windows. In daylight the view would be spectacular. Hugo went to the bed and switched on the lamp beside it.
‘There would have been a whole row of beds in here, for the female servants. Maybe they even slept two to a bed. It's going to make the most wonderful flat. Rupert and Fenella have got great plans for it.' He paused and turned towards her.
Sarah suddenly felt herself stiffen. 'Hugo, I can't do this,' she said.
She stopped in the doorway. She could appreciate the potential of the servants' quarters; she could see how much work needed doing, which was why a family friend, like Hugo, had been put here rather than anyone else, but she couldn't cross the threshold. Something, fear possibly, held her rooted to the spot.
‘What can't you do?'
‘I can't have sex with you, Hugo. My body wants to – or at least it did a few moments ago, but I can't cope with…just sex.’
‘What makes you think it would be "just" anything?' He spoke softly, as if aware of how little it would take to send Sarah running back down the stairs.
‘You're engaged to Electra. If you could make love to me while-'
‘I'm not. I'm not engaged to Electra. In fact I never was. I've been trying to tell you…' He paused.
‘Oh?' She couldn't keep the cynicism from her voice, although she tried hard to.
‘Come and sit down. I can't talk to you while you're standing over there.’
She didn't move. He came towards her and took her hand and guided her out of the doorway. Then he shut the door. 'Nothing's going to happen here that we don't both want, but I need to tell you about Electra.' He led her over to the bed, which was the only place to sit, and before she could resist she found her knees giving way and she sat down.<
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‘Electra and I have known each other all our lives. If there'd ever been any sexual spark between us we'd have been married by now.’
Sarah didn't speak. She felt trembly and confused. She didn't want to spoil the moment by saying something inappropriate.
‘A couple of months ago – just after Ashlyn's wedding actually – I met Electra at some do or other. She was distraught. Because we're old friends I got her to tell me everything and it turned out she'd just been dumped. Worse than that for her, at least, seemed to be that she'd told everyone – she's got some very smug cousins – that she was about to get engaged. There was some sort of house party, with the cousins, that she was about to go to sans fiancé.' He sighed. 'We made a plan. I would pretend to be her fiancé – we didn't think we needed a ring or anything – until she'd had time to get over her real love and then she could break it off and go travelling or something.' He paused again, this time looking at Sarah with an intentness she found unnerving.
‘I hadn't realised so many people had heard but I couldn't say anything until Electra broke it off. It wasn't my decision.' He got up and paced the room. 'Anyway, I wouldn't have made the suggestion if you hadn't blown me off after I thought we were getting on so well that night.' He looked at her questioningly.
Sarah didn't need to be reminded of that night. She knew exactly what happened – what had nearly happened – after Ashlyn's wedding. Nor did she need to be reminded of her turning him down when he'd asked her out to dinner – a proper date: she'd made it perfectly clear she couldn't and didn't want a relationship with him.
Hugo went over to his overnight bag and rummaged inside. He produced another of the same sort of bottle and two stainless steel mugs.
She watched him pour more Armagnac, unable to say anything for a moment, taking in all that he had said.
He brought the mugs over and gave her one, sitting down beside her again.
‘Do Fenella and Rupert know?' she finally managed. 'Yes, I've told them.' He smiled. 'Fen said thank God. She thinks we'd make a much better couple.’
Sarah blushed. 'You haven't told them – what I've been like?'
‘No, don't worry… but I am confused. Why didn't you want to go out with me – not that I'm completely irresistible.' He grinned at her. 'But we did seem to be getting on well, and tonight… I've told you my story, what's yours? Why were you so casual with me after Ashlyn's wedding? And why are you so cynical about love?’
Sarah sipped her drink. Really, she wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her until she forgot all about everything. Now she knew he wasn't another woman's man she could allow herself that pleasure. How had she ever doubted him? She'd brushed him aside, assuming he'd be like all the rest, like Bruce. But she knew she had to tell him about the past. She owed him that at least.
She took another sip, feeling a little calmer now. She swallowed, and began. 'Years ago I fell in love. I was at university. He was practically the first man I saw and I just fell. He was very sexy – sort of Hugh Grant-like, but more the part he played in Bridget Jones.' She smiled ruefully at Hugo who only nodded for her to continue. He was listening intently.
‘I loved him so completely,' she went on. 'I gave him my virginity without even thinking about it. It was still Freshers' Week. We were together for nearly all our time at uni. I was devoted to him, and I thought he was to me. We planned our future together. Then one day I found him in bed with another woman. Looking back I think he wanted me to, to save him the trouble of dumping me. I should have seen the signs. He always was a moral coward. I knew that, even when I loved him, but I didn't care.’
Hugo took hold of her hand and held it gently. It was a touching gesture and Sarah almost flung herself into his arms but although she found it very hard to talk – these were painful memories – she forced herself on. 'He got married shortly afterwards, although they were both dreadfully young. I never heard from them again. Wouldn't have wanted to. He broke my heart.'
‘Most of us get our hearts broken at some time or other, you know, it doesn't turn us all into monks and nuns,' said Hugo.
She smiled. 'I know, but…' She hesitated. 'It really hit me, hard.' She didn't want to go into the details, not tonight anyway. For now she just wanted Hugo to kiss her again. Somehow the pain of the past had evaporated. She'd been holding on to it for so long she hadn't realised it had just become a bad habit.
‘The wedding was a shambles.' She smiled. 'I've never thought about it before, but I wonder if that's what turned me into a wedding planner? I thought it was my experience with events management and stuff, but maybe it was Bruce's wedding.’
Hugo was stroking her hand softly now. He seemed to have found some special spot that connected directly to her insides and caused them to melt. 'That's all over now – you can trust me. I'm not going to hurt you; I'd never hurt you.' She heard someone sigh deeply and realised it was her and it was too late to stop Hugo hearing it. His hands went up her leg and found the top of her stocking. She always wore hold-ups if she knew it was likely to get hot, and now Hugo had discovered this fact.
‘This is a surprisingly sexy secret you have, my love.’
‘It's not supposed to be sexy!' she protested. 'It's cooler than tights. I mean – they are.' She decided to stop talking and just let herself be. She didn't stop him easing it down over her leg in a caressing, stroking movement. First one and then the other stocking was dropped on to the floor. The feeling of his hands on her legs was turning her stomach to water. Her breathing became audible and he gently pushed her back down on to the bed and lay down beside her.
‘Maybe I've been a fool..
She couldn't say any more because he was kissing her, and doing it so thoroughly, with such skill and purpose, she couldn't really think about being a fool any more. She couldn't think about anything except what his mouth was doing to hers and how that made her feel.
‘Sit up,' he said after a lifetime, 'I need to unzip you.’
Sarah sat up and allowed him to unpeel the dress. The jacket that went with it had been left in the kitchen long since. She lay down again; a thought came into her mind, and suddenly she started to giggle.
‘What's so funny?' Hugo asked, taking off his jacket.
‘I just had a funny thought. It wouldn't be funny if I told you,' she said, giggling even more.
‘What is it?' He was laughing with her but was also frustrated by not knowing why she was laughing so hard.
She took a breath. 'OK, I'll tell you,' she said, as he took off his shirt.
‘What?'
‘I'm just really glad I didn't wear my magic knickers.’
*
Laughing and loving and later, a bit of sleeping, took up most of the night. The next morning Sarah was caught in the kitchen wearing Hugo's shirt and her perfectly ordinary knickers. It was a bit embarrassing, but Fenella took it in her stride.
‘Have you and Hugo got together at last? Brilliant! You're perfect for each other!’
Rupert arrived a few moments later. Sarah was seated and drinking tea.
‘Hugo and Sarah have got it together!' said Fenella. 'Isn't that fab?'
‘Gosh yes,' said Rupert. 'So does that mean you'll be getting married?’
Fortunately for Sarah, Hugo appeared at this moment. He was fresh from the shower and his hair was sticking up in spikes. If they'd been alone Sarah wouldn't have been able to resist him.
‘Do you mind if I ask her first?' said Hugo. 'I realise you've got a vested interest in holding the reception, but really! Sarah? What do you think?’
Sarah started to laugh. 'The only wedding I'm remotely interested in is one where I don't have to organise a thing!'
‘Suits me. I'll find the right moment and kidnap you. So, Rupert, Fenella, is there anything to eat? I'm bloody starving!'
‘I can't imagine why,' said Fenella, giggling as she went to the fridge.
Sarah blushed furiously but, fortunately, no one noticed.
Epilogue
‘Oh do come on,' chivvied Elsa. 'We want to see these photos!'
‘We promise not to get chocolate on them,' added Bron.
Sarah appeared carrying a loaded tray. 'OK, I'm here now.' She found space for the tray and Bron caught the champagne bottle that threatened to tip over as she did so.
‘I thought we might need an extra bottle,' Sarah explained, seeing the surprised expressions of her companions. She raised her glass, saying, 'Cheers!' then picked up a large photograph album from where it had been propped against a chair and placed it on the table in front of them.
‘It's been ages since we've all been together. In fact, not since the wedding,' said Bron having taken a large sip of champagne. 'Ooh, lovely fizz.'
‘The fizz is left over from Carrie's wedding. She had a case sent to me,' said Sarah.
‘Oh, she was lovely!' said Elsa, forgetting how long it had taken her star client to choose her fabrics, her design and the number of bridesmaids.
‘She was,' agreed Sarah.
‘But it must have been shattering for you, Sarah,' said Bron, 'with Lily's wedding on the same day.’
Sarah sighed. 'It was. I thought I'd sleep for ever afterwards.’
Elsa and Bron exchanged looks.
‘Well,' said Elsa, fortified with more Pol Roger. 'You went to a very nice hotel for a few days. Are you saying you just slept?’
Sarah went pink. Although she and Hugo had been a couple for nearly a month now, she was still a bit embarrassed about how dreamy-eyed she was about it. 'Well, we did go for a few walks and things.’
It had been bliss. After Carrie's wedding, Hugo had put Sarah in his car and carried her off to a hotel he knew in a tiny fishing village on the Cornish coast. He'd taken her to buy clothes the afternoon they arrived. Her shopping choices had been limited: jeans, fishermen's smocks, stripy Breton tops, Guernseys and deck shoes – and a huge waterproof coat that they nicknamed The Tent, which now lived in Hugo's car. They had walked, eaten huge meals and slept but most importantly, they had made love. Sarah had never been so happy. Even tying up the odds and ends after Carrie's wedding, which had taken a bit of doing, made that break away from the world worthwhile. A gentle push from Elsa brought her back to the present and she opened the album.
