It's Raining Men

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It's Raining Men Page 37

by Milly Johnson


  ‘Hello, it’s Lud. Where the bloody hell have you been?’

  She threw herself on him when he walked into her flat.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you. I drove up to the spa, and they said you weren’t booked in. I’ve tried emailing you, ringing you . . .’

  ‘It’s a long story. We ended up in the wrong place and we didn’t have any phone signal. Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you.’ Clare couldn’t let him go. She breathed in the wonderful clean scent of him, held onto his familiar shape.

  Lud held her at arm’s length. ‘Clare, I have to talk to you.’

  She looked into his dear, dear face with dread. I’ve met someone and am going to marry them. I wanted you to know first.

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

  Clare closed her eyes against the words she knew were coming.

  ‘I’ve neglected you, Liebling. I’ve been a fool. I lost sight of my priorities and I’m ashamed of that. I can’t tell you how fabulous Dubai is. But I’m as miserable as hell without you. I would rather stay in London and see you. I don’t want to be without you. I love you. I’m going to reject the job in Dubai so I’m back in London with you. And I promise that I won’t even look at my phone when we are together.’

  Clare burst into tears. Big, splashy, happy tears.

  Lud kissed her face. ‘I couldn’t get you out of my head. I thought, What are you doing, Ludwig Wolke? You should be whisking Clare away to beautiful places, laughing, having fun. I’ve forgotten how to have fun, Clare. Help me remember.’ And he gave her the biggest most passionate snog that she had ever had in her life.

  ‘I’ve been miserable without you too,’ she said when she came up for breath. ‘But I don’t want you to give anything up for me.’

  ‘I’d give anything up if it means we are together again . . .’

  ‘Lud,’ she began.

  Release yourself from your own prison. It was as if Raine were beside her, whispering the words in her ear, pushing a key into her hand.

  ‘Lud.’ She took a huge breath. ‘I don’t want to be a partner at Blackwoods and Margoyles.’

  There, it was out. And it was like purging something vile and nasty that had been poisoning her.

  ‘But you’ve worked for it for years . . .’

  ‘I haven’t worked for it for years for me.’

  Lud understood her. He always had. He held her face in his safe, square hands. Then his phone rang in his pocket but he didn’t even acknowledge it.

  ‘What do you want, Clare? You – sexy, beautiful, darling, amazing Clare Salter. What do you want?’

  ‘I want to never go back to Blackwoods and Margoyles. And I want to go to Dubai. But most of all I want you, Ludwig Wolke.’

  ‘Then that is exactly what you shall have. Now, which do you want to do first, put the kettle on or pack your case?’

  Only the rain has the right to rain on your parade.

  ANON

  September

  Chapter 96

  It was eight o’clock and Lara still hadn’t finished work. She yawned as she stood at the photocopier and dictated notes into her phone while she waited for the document to be duplicated. She reckoned she would be through by nine.

  ‘You’re working late, Lara.’ She saw Giles Billingley approaching. He had a very strange walk, as if he were gliding, or sliming, over to her.

  ‘That’s right, Giles,’ she said, now in the orbit of his overpowering cologne. Something very expensive, no doubt, yet it smelled cheap and too sweet, like floral disinfectant on him.

  ‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘That’s what I like to see.’ He was stroking her bottom and Lara, without thinking, whirled around and cracked his face. She felt her palm sink into his wobbly cheek, and hoped there was enough soap left in the Ladies to make her hand feel clean again.

  Giles Billingley staggered to the side in shock. ‘You’ll pay for that,’ he said. ‘Don’t ever waste your time applying for promotion.’

  Lara was in more shock than he was. God, why did she do that? What had she done?

  Why did he have to go and touch her? Who the hell did he think he was?

  She was angry for all sorts of reasons and felt stupidly and suddenly tearful. Then she noticed her voice recorder was still switched on.

  May was at home. She had just got in.

  ‘Sorry, I know I promised I’d cook but that little git sprang a meeting on me.’

  ‘May, stop that a minute and listen to this, will you?’ Lara played her the recording.

  ‘You slapped him? What for?’

  ‘He grabbed my arse.’

  ‘I thought so.’

  ‘So that’s my career ended.’

  ‘You could fight him,’ said May, throwing some chicken breasts in the oven.

  ‘You know what they’re like. Old boys’ club.’

  ‘Okay, then threaten them with outside exposure. Leave the damned job, get the biggest payout you can and march out.’

  ‘And do what?’ asked Lara.

  ‘Ask Lud for a job in Dubai. Then take me with you,’ May suggested. ‘I need a holiday. I feel as if I haven’t had one for years.’

  Lara switched on her laptop. ‘Taking time out made me realize how much more there is to life than work. I half wish I’d never gone, to be honest.’

  ‘You know that’s a lie,’ said May She would never wish she hadn’t gone, because in that place she had met a man who was her benchmark for the future. Never again would May give herself to anyone who wasn’t up to the decent, kind, honest, lovely standard of Frank Hathersage. He had shown her what a real man was. Michael had given up after being beaten up by Mr Wilkinson, bitten by his dog and drenched by the bloke across the road. She hadn’t seen him since and never wanted to again.

  ‘I know,’ replied Lara. ‘I didn’t mean it. What I do mean is that Ren Dullem changed the shape of me. When I came home I no longer fitted into my life any more. Do you know what—’

  She didn’t even finish the sentence before May interrupted her.

  ‘I know exactly what you mean, love.’ She knew because she felt the same.

  Lara thought about Ren Dullem more than she dared to admit, even to May. She thought about Gene Hathersage thundering towards her down his path. Even more than that she thought about him picking her up and holding her. Timing really was a bummer sometimes.

  There was a jingling noise heralding a message that Clare wanted to connect on Skype.

  ‘Incoming, incoming,’ Lara squealed, flapping excitedly and moving over so May could sit next to her.

  Clare’s merry face appeared; even her swinging black bob looked happy

  ‘Hellooo, hellooo,’ she said, waving. The others waved back.

  ‘How are you? You look great,’ said May.

  ‘I am great. It’s fabulous here. The weather is wonderful, the sea is gorgeous, Lud’s fabulous . . .’

  Lara grinned. ‘And we are very happy for you, darling.’

  ‘Look, I’ve got some very important news.’

  ‘You’re pregnant? I knew you were glowing.’

  ‘Shut up, Lars, and let me talk, please. I’ve had a letter,’ she said, and paused for dramatic effect. ‘From Raine’s solicitor.’

  ‘Ah, and has she left you something nice?’ asked May, imagining a necklace or a lovely pearl ring.

  ‘Yes, she has actually. She’s sort of left me Ren Dullem.’

  Chapter 97

  My dearest Clare,

  I have been thinking about the conversation we had when you told me what you and your friends did for a living. I can think of no better people to restore Ren Dullem to its former glory, bringing in the new and yet keeping the old loveliness.

  I have put a lot of money away over the years. The Carlton estate was very generous but I never needed to spend any of it. I saved it for my beloved village. And if you are reading this, then I am gone and with me has died the need to contain our beautiful Ren Dullem.

  Will you and your friend
s consider the possibility of turning Ren Dullem into the flower it should be? The monies from my savings have gathered interest and should, I hope, be enough to pay you all a generous salary for at least three years, by my calculations. The Village Fund will, as I understand it, also be at your disposal.

  I knew there was a reason why our paths had crossed and I die happier for knowing you whether you take up the challenge or not.

  My fondest wishes to you always.

  Be happy, my lovely girl.

  Raine de la Mer

  ‘Dear God,’ said Lara. ‘That’s a mighty ask.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ said Clare. ‘I don’t need to be there; you’re the business experts. We can Skype and I can look over the figures. We could do this.’

  ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa,’ said Lara, rubbing her forehead as if that would help put all the jigsaw pieces currently floating around inside her head into some semblance of order. ‘There’s a lot to think about here.’

  ‘No, there isn’t,’ argued May. ‘You’re unhappy. I am certainly unhappy. We work for other people who cream off the best of everything we do. We know what we’re doing, we’re very good at it and, as Clare said, we could do this. If she can leap and land safely, I’m bloody well sure we can. And first thing tomorrow, Lars, you are going to walk straight into Giles Billingley’s office with your recording and tell him that if he doesn’t make you redundant with a massive pay-off, you’re going directly to the police and the press.’

  Lara opened her mouth to bring some reason to the proceedings but found that she really didn’t want to.

  ‘Oh, bugger it, let’s do it,’ she said.

  Don’t sit inside and pray for the rain to pass when you could be out walking in it, dancing in it, kissing in it.

  LINDA FLOWERS

  October

  Chapter 98

  There was a notice pinned to the door of Well Cottage:

  RISE – key under mat.

  ‘Nice to see that nothing much has changed.’ Lara grinned. ‘Wonder if he’s left us a luxury hamper?’

  ‘It’s a full moon again, have you noticed?’ May pointed upwards. ‘Just like the last time we arrived here.’

  Lara looked up and smiled. Just like last time, she repeated to herself. She hoped it was a sign that not too much had changed in Ren Dullem. She couldn’t bear it if it had.

  She opened the door quickly to escape the falling rain and walked into the dear familiar room with its thick walls and nipple light switches. She remembered the first time she had done so, but on this occasion she didn’t huff and want to swap it for a luxury log cabin in Wellem Spa. She dumped her case on the floor and went to put on the kettle.

  ‘Same room? Or do you want the one with the secret lagoon?’ asked May, shaking raindrops from her hair. She was laden with bags, like a packhorse.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly have Clare’s room. She’ll need it for when she comes next month. Coffee? There’s no sign of a luxury hamper. We’ll have to complain to the management.’

  ‘I bet you can’t wait,’ May said, winking at her. ‘Does he know you’re here?’

  ‘No. I didn’t want to put him under any pressure.’ This was a ridiculous gamble that might not pay off. Lara couldn’t be sure that the gruff, handsome, big, sensitive, sexy Gene Hathersage, whom she hadn’t been able to get out of her mind, would even remember her. He may have been seduced back to Colleen Landers for all she knew. So she could end up with her heart smashed into pieces. Again. She should be getting used to it by now: all her men running back to their exes. She had loved her years in London, but there was nothing for her in the Big Smoke any more. She had thought about Ren Dullem too much since she left it to ignore. Coming back to it was like a part of her was coming home.

  ‘So they’re expecting a company called RISE, personally recommended by Ms Clare Salter, to be sorting them all out, then,’ said May.

  ‘Yep. Which bag is the milk and coffee in, May?’

  ‘Sod the coffee. Go and announce your arrival first,’ replied May.

  Lara didn’t wait to be told a second time.

  Chapter 99

  The sign to warn trespassers off the property was still hanging on the gate to La Mer, but it had been joined by a new one:

  Beware of the dog

  Painted at the bottom of the sign was the silhouette of a three-legged whippet.

  Gene’s truck was in the drive. He was in. Lara’s heart began to bounce around inside her. Despite the heavily falling rain, she could only walk slowly towards the house, worried now that she might not find him alone. Or what if he opened the door, saw her and looked horrified?

  When she reached the door her hand came out to knock, then pulled back before it made contact. Her jaw was tight with anxiety. Oh God, oh God. She stretched out her hand again and knocked quickly.

  The door was yanked open with his customary heavy hand and Gene Hathersage appeared in the doorway wielding a lump hammer. His eyes rounded to the size of crop circles.

  ‘You,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, it’s me,’ replied Lara. ‘I’ve come to ask where the welcoming luxury hamper is. We have no bread, no cheese, no milk awaiting our arrival in your cottage.’

  ‘We? Who? I wasn’t expecting you.’

  ‘You’re expecting people from the company RISE. Rickman, Salter and Earnshaw. Salter is in Dubai at the moment, though, but she’s coming over for a fortnight next month, and Earnshaw is presently standing by a boiling kettle.’

  ‘Wait.’

  The door slammed in Lara’s face, leaving her standing in the rain. She was confused – was that the end of the exchange? Then again, this was Gene Hathersage; what had she been expecting? Bouquets?

  The door was snatched open again, just as she was wondering whether she should go.

  ‘Had to ring someone,’ he said. ‘So you took up Raine’s offer, then?’

  ‘How could we not? We spent over a week redesigning the place when we were here before. It would be a shame to waste what we’d thought of.’

  He nodded slowly. His hand was curled so tightly around the huge hammer that his knuckles were white. Anyone who didn’t know Gene Hathersage properly wouldn’t have wanted to meet him down a dark alley when he looked like this.

  ‘You, er . . . you didn’t go back, then?’ he asked eventually. ‘To him.’

  ‘It was surprisingly easy not to.’

  ‘I know. Been there. I’m glad. For you. That you didn’t.’

  ‘I couldn’t have done.’ Not after you kissed me, Gene. Not after you held me. Once was enough to tell me that.

  The rain was dripping off her fringe, down her face. She knew that her nicely applied make-up would be a total mess by now.

  Behind her a speeding van vroomed up the hill.

  ‘I had to tell Frank that May was back. He was building up courage to go and find her in London,’ said Gene. ‘He doesn’t have a lot of confidence. He didn’t know if it was the right thing to do, but he was going to give it a go.’

  Lara smiled. ‘That’s nice to hear – that he missed her. She really missed him.’

  She waited for Gene to say that he had missed her. He didn’t. She stood feeling awkward now outside his door. Had she called this wrong?

  ‘It was me that recommended we honour Raine’s request,’ he said quietly, almost bashfully. ‘I reckoned that if you didn’t come back then you were happy with . . . him and if you did come back then maybe that meant you might have wanted to come . . . er, to come back and . . . well, see me.’

  ‘I did,’ she said, her autumn-tinted hazel eyes fixing his dark dark-brown ones. ‘And I wanted to see how Gracie had settled in.’

  ‘My God, is it raining?’ said Gene suddenly.

  ‘You just noticed?’

  ‘Yes. I only noticed you.’

  ‘Nice line,’ Lara acknowledged, her hair now totally plastered to her face.

  ‘You’d better come in,’ said Gene, at last putting the hammer down and mov
ing aside.

  ‘I thought you’d never ask,’ replied Lara, shaking the wet drops off herself before crossing his threshold.

  She walked through the kitchen to see Gracie dozing in a furry pink bed at the side of the wood-burning stove.

  ‘She looks comfortable,’ said Lara.

  ‘She’s settled in well. She’s found a new home that fits her better than the other one.’

  Lara raised her head to him. Like me, she thought. Oh God, why didn’t he just grab her and kiss her? She was aching for him to do so. To be this close to him and not have him want to hold her was torture. She should go. If he had been pleased to see her, he would have let her know by now.

  ‘As you might have gathered, she is the world’s most rubbish guard dog,’ said Gene, making polite conversation. ‘She never barks when anyone comes to the door. Only when they leave, funnily enough.’

  Lara swallowed hard to push down the tears rising inside her. She could fall in love with Gene Hathersage. She was halfway there already. Dammit. He was pleased to see her, but not that sort of pleased.

  ‘Well, I’ll witness that for myself now, then. Nice to see you again, Gene,’ she said, her voice wobbly. ‘I’ll be away.’

  ‘Oh, no, you won’t,’ said Gene Hathersage, taking her hand and pulling her into his big woodman’s arms. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’

  Two Years Later

  Whitby Examiner

  MAJOR AWARD FOR SEASIDE VILLAGE

  North Yorkshire seaside village Reines de la Mer has been granted the national award for best rejuvenated seaside village. Reines de la Mer was known locally as Ren Dullem for many years, but has reverted back to its original name as it appears in the Domesday Book.

  Lord Edwin Carlton told the Examiner that the success was all down to RISE, a company the village employed from its own personal budget to oversee the major changes needed to bring the village up to spec.

  The founder members of RISE, Mrs Lara Hathersage, Mrs May Hathersage and Frau Clare Wolke, are equally generous in their praise. ‘The village is full of wonderful people, beautiful buildings and amazing scenery. All we are doing is polishing a jewel,’ said Lara. ‘We have a long way to go, but the award makes us all proud that our achievements have been recognized.’

 

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