But he’d been proved right. He had told Xander that she would tire of the country and flee back to city living, that she’d recognise the truth in the fiction, and so she had. Or at least he hoped she had, and it wasn’t just that her plans had been thwarted. Just as the fictional rock star had tired of his wife’s obsession with rural living and rugged men, so had he. How he would ever rectify the huge issue she had with her absent father he honestly wasn’t sure. If they’d been in America, many hours of expensive therapy would have been the obvious solution. Maybe their next stop should be the United States.
‘Well sometimes life imitates art,’ her voice was still higher-pitched than normal, external proof of the internal turmoil she was determined to disguise, ‘and I think that scriptwriter might have a point. In that final scene where Spike insisted that we were done here, and showed up Dan for the serial shagger he really was, it made me think. Some of these men are little better than animals, you know. One can get bored of sex, mud, and looking at scenery, and I do rather like living somewhere a bit more civilised. The climate is better in Spain, the men know how to dress, and there aren’t any horses.’
He sighed. Maybe life for Pandora had always been an act, a brave face, and maybe in coming to Tippermere he was finally gaining an insight into who she really was. ‘I’m sure there are in the rural areas.’
‘Not where we will be going.’ She pecked him on the cheek, barely making contact. ‘Such a shame you have to stay on right until the end. Never mind. You can call me. Right, I think that’s everything. I will see you back in London. Oh the bliss of proper shops and talking to normal people again.’ She paused in the doorway. ‘I envied Lottie when I was at school. She was popular even though she never even tried. People took notice of her and I was the poor little invisible girl. I never stopped dreaming about coming back and taking it all from her. I wanted to be a lady, to have people look up to me, respect me, and I wanted Daddy to love me.’ Her voice had an almost wistful edge to it, and Seb softened his tone in response.
‘But people do respect you, darling, they adore your films.’
‘They respect the films, not me. I want to be important. When I read about the fire it just seemed like fate. It was a sign that it was the right time to come back here and sort things out. I spoke to that awful Gazza man and it was easy – it all just fell into place as though it was meant to be.’
‘Your life is different, Pandora. You don’t need a place like Tipping House, and you don’t need Rory, Xander, or your father. Do you?’
Pandora flicked her hair back over her shoulder. ‘Oh don’t be ridiculous, I do need a place like Tipping House. But a bigger, better place. I’ll call you when I find one in Spain.’
Chapter 32
Everybody in Tippermere was relieved when they found out Pandora had rushed back to London as soon as she’d shot her last scene, two weeks before the end of filming. Seb, feeling obliged to celebrate a wrap, had stayed behind. A situation they were both more than happy with.
He was used to working on films that didn’t have his wife in a starring (or any) role, which meant he was at liberty to plead the need to stay on location or return home at whatever ungodly hour suited him. In fact, it suited them both.
Seb and Pandora always attended the most glamorous and prestigious events, arm in arm, but the rest of the time went their separate ways with unvoiced relief.
Packing his wife into a chauffeur-driven limo, Seb had heaved a huge inward sigh of relief. Then he’d gone out and ‘got bladdered’, as Billy put it, after finding him in a ditch after the man had taken a wrong turning.
It had become a regular occurrence over the next two weeks; relishing his new-found freedom from a demanding and unpopular wife he’d become a familiar face in Kitterly Heath.
The first time that Sam and her friends had come across him in their favourite wine bar, he’d been swaying on a stool, chatting up the bisexual barman, totally smashed. Seb, it transpired, had a wild side. He was lining up the glasses in front of him neatly, some habits it seemed, were too deeply embedded in his psyche to ignore, even when drunk.
‘I know you, don’t I? You’re the one who was winding Panda up.’ He balanced his chin on a hand, attached to a wobbly arm, and swayed. ‘That footballer’s wife. What the fuck are you doing in here all alone? Is he playing away? Ha, ha geddit?’
‘I live here, babe. Just up the road, and my Davey doesn’t play on a Thursday, hun. Aren’t you the funny one?’ She patted his arm. ‘Didn’t know you had a sense of humour. You kept that quiet, didn’t you, you old devil.’ She looked round. ‘Your Panda isn’t here, is she?’
‘I wouldn’t be calling her Panda if she was. She’s Pan-dor-a.’ He sniggered. ‘She’s gone home, got sick of the country. I knew she would. Life imitating art, y’know. I said to Xander she’d realise. The script said she’d get fed up and she has.’
‘But that’s just the script, isn’t it, babe?’ She waved at the barman. ‘Normal please, doll, and one for Seb here. It didn’t look to me that she got fed up, more like her little scheme didn’t work out.’
Seb harrumphed. ‘Whatever.’
‘Did you know she was trying to buy Lottie’s place?’
‘Never tells me anything, scheming bitch, but you’ve got to admire her, haven’t you? Do y’know they microwave the wine in here?’ He snorted and took a gulp.
‘I tried it once at home, babe, put it on for thirty minutes instead of seconds.’ She giggled. ‘Well how was I to know? I just had the number thirty in my head. Had to chuck some cinnamon in it and tell Davey it was mulled wine. He told me it was criminal to do that to a Chateauneuf du pape.’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘No, he did. Actually said “criminal” like it was really bad.’
‘I meant kidding about cooking it.’
‘Oh no, babe. I’m not joking. Well, we always drink bubbly or cocktails, don’t we, girls? Just picked up the nearest bottle, how was I to know it was a special one? Didn’t taste that brilliant to me.’
‘Well that’s because you boiled it, you stupid cow.’
Sam sighed and picked the bottle of champagne up. ‘I was just starting to like you, babe, and now you’ve screwed that up as well.’
* * *
Sam loved a good party, and the best kind were the ones she organised herself, with a free rein to be as outrageous as she wanted. If Lottie and Amanda hadn’t been quite as pre-occupied, they’d have got involved themselves to put a lid on her enthusiasm.
‘Don’t you worry about a thing,’ she’d said to Lottie, grabbing the hastily prepared plan that involved a few drinks, balloons, and some canapés. ‘Leave it to me, babe.’
Lottie needed cheering up. Sam had seen how much her horse’s death had upset her, and to be followed up with losing the woman who’d always been there in the background, quietly steering things, had left her devastated. Lottie had put a brave face on it, but it was evident to Sam that she was just going through the motions.
Sam missed Lady Elizabeth as well, everybody in Tippermere did, and she couldn’t imagine the size of the hole that had been left in Lottie’s heart and home. But she plodded on resolutely, wading like a sleepwalker though treacle, determined to succeed as Elizabeth would have wanted.
‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?’ Amanda, now past the sickness stage of her pregnancy, had felt obliged to help. Sam loved the very sensible and ladylike Amanda nearly as much as she loved Lottie – but she didn’t want this celebration to be sensible, she wanted to see off the film crew with a bang. A grand finale.
‘You’ve got your hands full with Alice, babe.’ Which wasn’t entirely true, as Alice, despite her tender years, was nearly as sensible as her parents. ‘And I know what it’s like when you’re forever dying for a wee. I’ll give you a shout if I need you. I know you’ve got amazing contacts, babe. Here, you couldn’t give me a list of people who can get me this stuff could you?’ She handed over her own plan, shoving L
ottie’s in her tote bag.
Amanda went pale when she saw the list. ‘I’ll see what I can do, although some of this is a bit outside my normal …’
‘Aww, thanks, babe. I knew I could rely on you.’
* * *
‘Now look at you, my little princess. Look Davey, isn’t she gorgeous? I could eat you up.’ Sam leant forward and nibbled Roxy’s arm, and with a squeal the little girl ran off. ‘You don’t think I look over the top, do you hun?’
David Simcock, dressed in a fitted designer DJ that hugged his six foot ten toned frame to perfection, put his hands on Sam’s waist and holding his wife at arm’s length he let his gaze drift over her from the bottom up. ‘You look stunning, love. Beautiful.’ He kissed her cheek, carefully, wary of the many layers of make-up. ‘If I wasn’t already married I’d be down on one knee.’
Sam giggled. ‘Oh, get you.’
‘Good job Pandora isn’t here or she’d be scratching your eyes out.’ He held his arm out. ‘Ready to show them how to have a proper party?’
‘Bloody hell.’ Tab’s eyes opened wide at the sight of a bow-tie-wearing topless waiter who was heading straight for her with a tray of champagne. Jamie laughed, he’d been pressed into service by Sam earlier in the day and had a good idea of what the evening had in store. He wished they had a Sam in their town instead of a crowd that were more bag-lady than WAG. Even the so-called ‘stars’ he worked with on a daily basis paled into insignificance compared to the force of nature that was Samantha Simcock.
‘Wow.’ They were in the marquee proper now. ‘That is so, so amazing. Look.’ A pointing Tab was already heading towards a chocolate fountain, where Roxy and Alice were standing armed with bamboo sticks.
Roxy had five marshmallows on her spear, chocolate was dripping from her fingers, and her cheeks were already chocolate-smeared. She even had it in her hair. In contrast, Alice was as clean and tidy as always. She had two slices of banana and was looking at the chocolate dubiously as though it were forbidden fruit.
‘This is our fountain, Tabifa, Mummy said that one’s for gwown-ups and I can’t touch it.’
Tab looked at where Roxy was pointing. ‘Oh my God, I’ve died and gone to heaven.’ And Jamie wasn’t sure if that was down to the contents of the fountain or the waiter standing next to it.
‘No you’ve not.’ Roxy looked mystified. ‘You’re still here.’ Then she lost interest in Tab and attempted to stick another marshmallow on her already overladen stick. The stick arched over, and as the chocolate hit the top of the first spongy cube it gave up its fight to stay in one piece. ‘Oh bug.’ She glanced up at Tab. ‘I’m allowed to say bug, just not the ger bit as well, Mummy said.’
‘Course you are, sweetie pie.’ Tab didn’t care what she said, she was already heading towards the stream of Sangria, and a loin-cloth-attired Tarzan who was supplying glasses.
‘Oh heavens,’ Amanda didn’t know whether to cover Alice’s eyes or her own, ‘she’ll be up all night if she eats that chocolate. Did you know Sam had all this planned? She never mentioned semi-naked men or sugar rushes to me.’
Tab didn’t take her eyes off Tarzan, just held out her hand for a glass.
Jamie grinned. ‘She said she didn’t want to bother you or Lottie with the finer details. Where is Lottie, by the way?’
‘Arguing with the fire juggler that a tent isn’t the place for naked flames.’
‘Just naked men.’ Tab, who had reluctantly decided that this Lord of the Jungle was more of a man’s-man than a lady lover, had downed her drink and was staring wide-eyed at the rest of the party-goers and entertainment.
‘Only Sam could make a tent look like this.’
‘Marquee,’ said Lottie, who after temporarily confiscating the lighter fuel had returned it on condition that all flames stayed outside. ‘It’s amazing, isn’t it? She said it was a good excuse to go a bit theatrical, seeing as it was a wrap-up party. Her words not mine.’
‘You know you wanted me and Jamie to carry on digging?’
Lottie nodded. ‘Not that it really makes any difference now. I don’t think Pandora will ever come back.’
‘I think he might, though.’ Tab nodded over towards the bar, where Seb was holding court with two of Sam’s friends. ‘I didn’t like him at all at first, he’s so bloody bossy and prissy, but he’s grown on me a bit. He’s got a wicked sense of humour.’
‘I think Xander quite likes him too.’
‘Mm, anyhow, all those brides-to-be that were in the newspapers complaining were the same ones that had attacked Gazza on his Facebook page. Bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? I gave Pip the list to check out and she reckons Pandora persuaded him to tell them it wasn’t his fault, it was all yours, that you owed them and they should go to the newspapers and complain.’
Lottie sighed. ‘It doesn’t take much to turn people nasty does it? Harder to get them to be nice.’
‘I’ll miss this place.’ Xander grinned and took the bottle of beer that Rory offered. ‘And all you mad people.’
‘What are you going to do next, then?’ Lottie, who’d been wondering just how many calories there were in a chocolate-covered slice of banana dragged her attention away from the fountain and plonked herself on Rory’s lap. She was dying to kick off her heels, but knew that Gran would frown down from Heaven.
‘Tour the world? No, I’m kidding. I don’t know, but being around you lot has kind of reminded me how much I miss riding. I need to get back in the saddle.’
‘I don’t see why you can’t hang around for a bit, if you’ve got nowhere to go.’
‘I think you should stay here, babe.’ Sam topped up Lottie’s champagne glass and poured herself another. ‘You can give polo-riding lessons, can’t he? That’ll be popular, or I know, you could give my little Roxy lessons. I mean, she does love Rory but now he’s got this new horse and sponsor and everything he’s going to be busy. And Lottie won’t be able to do all that mucking out and riding now she’s got to get the wedding business going again. Aww look at Roxy, she’s a right card isn’t she? Covered in chocolate.’
‘Well, actually Rory did have this idea,’ Xander paused as though unsure whether he should say more.
Lottie glanced up at Rory and he winked. ‘I suggested he take over Mere Lodge.’ She frowned. The small eventing yard had been Rory’s base before they’d moved into Tipping House, and he’d rented it out to their friend Mick O’Neal. ‘Mick’s given in to Niamh’s pleading – she said she needs to be nearer to her mam.’ He rolled his eyes and Tab giggled at his appalling Irish accent. Lottie, on the other hand, felt like she was about to burst into tears at the news.
‘But he can’t go.’ She hadn’t quite meant it to come out like that, but Rory understood. He squeezed her waist.
‘He’ll be back, it’s only for a few months.’
Lottie missed Mick. Since he’d got back together with Niamh he’d been away from Tippermere more than he’d been there.
She’d seen him on New Year’s Eve when he’d set up the fireworks with Rory, then he’d been there for Elizabeth’s funeral, there for her with his wise words and all-seeing dark gaze. ‘She knew you were ready to take over, treas.’ He’d held her at arm’s length for a moment, wiped away a tear from her cheek. ‘And she knew you’d got a good man by your side. Rory will take care of you. You make a good team. Remember what I told you, about your feet bringing you back to where your heart is? Well, your heart is here, my love, but I’ve still got the wandering feet. Your Gran was a good one, good enough to hang about until you were ready, but she was tired.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Be happy that she can rest now, and be happy for everything she’s given you.’ She’d looked for him at the wake, but he was nowhere to be seen. He’d disappeared again.
‘I’m not sure he will be.’
Rory chuckled. ‘He said you’d say that. But I reckon there’s no harm in Xander looking after the place for a few months, is there? Room for his ponies, and I was thinking as you
might be er …’ He glanced down at her stomach and Sam squealed.
‘You’re not? She isn’t? Oh my God, babe, why didn’t you say?’
‘No.’ Lottie giggled as Sam’s face fell. ‘I’m not pregnant, but we have kind of decided that maybe it would be nice to, you know …’ she looked up at Rory’s face. ‘Gran would have liked it.’
Rory nodded. ‘Elizabeth would have loved it.’
‘Oh wow, can I tell Davey?’
‘No Sam, you cannot tell anybody.’
‘Oh babe, what made you decide to go for it?’
Lottie rested her head against her husband’s chest. It was complicated. It had taken Elizabeth to show her how important her family was, to make her see that her mother had loved her and not willingly gone, that her father had never resented having to alter the course of his life to look after her. That Rory loved her enough to let her decide.
‘I know Gran would have loved to see the house filled with children again, but it’s not just for her.’ She breathed in the familiar, comforting smell that was pure Rory. ‘It just seems the right time for us. It’s what we both want, isn’t it?’
‘Aww, isn’t that fab? Oh my God, I think Roxy has just ducked Alice in the chocolate fountain. Roxy, Roxanne!’
Lottie giggled. ‘Sam’s been ace, hasn’t she, doing all this?’
‘I don’t know about ace, but she’s in her element.’ Rory grinned as they watched her and David rescue Alice from the fountain.
‘Gran realised I missed Pip, you know. That’s why she got the ponies for Alice and Roxy. She knew it would give Sam an excuse to be at Tipping House more. She wanted her to be here for me.’
Country Rivals Page 39
