Lavender Lane

by Christina Jones

  ‘No, they don’t!’ Megan protested. ‘They just think she’s wild and headstrong and wrong for Mitchell – but I don’t. I think they’re made for each other.’

  ‘Like we are?’ Peter whispered. ‘Meg, what I was trying to say to you earlier was …’ He swallowed. ‘Oh, look, Megan, will you marry me?’

  Megan was sure her jaw had dropped. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

  ‘Well?’ Peter had stopped dancing and was holding her close. ‘What about it?’

  ‘I – er – I don’t know what to say.’

  She didn’t want to hurt him by refusing him point blank – and yet, wasn’t that the kindest thing to do?

  Peter was speaking again. ‘I’m seeing Mr Bamford next week about promotion, like you suggested.’ He was smiling, excited. ‘Even if it means moving to one of the Oxford branches and not staying in Appleford. I’ve thought over everything you said, Megan. I’ll get a good mortgage discount because of working at the bank, and we can buy one of those new starter homes on the Merlin estate, and then –’

  ‘Hang on!’ Megan felt panic rising in her chest. ‘You can’t have made all these plans without me!’

  ‘I’ve done nothing else all week.’ Peter pulled her even closer. ‘I’ve been thinking how to make you happy. You were the one who said I was unambitious, after all.’

  ‘Was I?’ Megan couldn’t remember exactly what she had said, but she was pretty sure it hadn’t involved marriage and mortgages and one of those little boxes on the Merlin estate. ‘I don’t think I meant –’

  ‘Come on, you two lovebirds!’ His mates Neil, Nigel, and Toby, with their wives in tow, bore down on them. ‘The music’s stopped. Last one to the bar buys the round!’

  Whooping like schoolboys, they bounded across the dance floor and Peter moved to follow them.

  ‘We’d better go, otherwise I’ll have to pay for all their drinks – and I can’t really afford that now, can I?’ he said with a conspiratorial smile.

  ‘Peter …’ Megan swallowed. ‘I don’t think –’

  ‘Goodness!’ Peter laughed. ‘You can’t be that surprised! You must have known I’d ask you to marry me one day, Meg. After all, we’ve always been together. There’s never been anyone else.’

  No, Megan thought, there hadn’t been. And there still wasn’t – because she couldn’t count Luke’s kiss as anything other than a moment of madness.

  But she knew that, feeling as she did, there was no way she could accept Peter’s proposal.

  ‘Look,’ he was going on, ‘I’ll give you a little bit of time to mull it over. Decide whether you want a long engagement or just arrange the wedding. Talk to your parents. You could even go down to the Merlin estate and have a look at the show houses! But I’ll want your answer by next Saturday. All right?’

  ‘All right,’ Megan said weakly. ‘Look, you’d better get to the bar. Neil’s shoved his way through to the front and you know what he’s like – they’ll all be ordering doubles at your expense!’

  Peter grinned. ‘They would, too! But where are you going?’

  ‘The cloakroom. If you’ve managed to get served before I get back, I’d like an orange juice.’

  Megan watched him shouldering his way through the throng, and hated herself. Why hadn’t she told him the truth? Now it was going to be harder than ever.

  One thing was certain – she would tell him before next weekend that there wasn’t going to be any wedding. She couldn’t keep him dangling.

  Wearily she pushed open the door of the ladies’ cloakroom and Jacey turned from the mirror, her mascara brush poised.

  ‘Hi! It’s quite good, isn’t it? I thought it would be really stuffy but it’s livened up nicely. Not that the rugby club is my scene, of course, but …’ She stopped and gazed intently at Megan. ‘What’s up? You look rotten.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Megan sketched a small smile. ‘I feel rotten.’

  ‘You’re probably working too hard.’ Jacey returned to brushing her eyelashes. ‘Mitchell says you drive taxis all the time.’

  Thoughtfully Megan surveyed her new image in the harsh fluorescent light.

  ‘That’s true, I suppose. But I love it. I enjoy meeting people and talking to them. They tell me all sorts of things.’

  Jacey had finished her eyes and was concentrating on her luxuriant hair but she glanced at Megan in the mirror.

  ‘What, all of them?’

  ‘Well, not so much the busy mothers I pick up from the supermarket,’ Megan agreed. ‘But the older people always like to tell you about their day – even if they’re only going to the doctor. And the tourists who stay in Appleford and want to do Oxford’s sights are interesting, too.’

  ‘I’d enjoy that.’ Jacey gave her a smile of real friendship. ‘I’m dead nosy – and that way it wouldn’t be prying, would it? It would be part of the job.’

  Megan laughed in agreement. She couldn’t understand why people didn’t like Jacey Brennan, and could absolutely understand why Mitchell did.

  Jacey snapped her handbag shut.

  ‘You still look like you could do with a break, though,’ she went on. ‘You know what they say about all work and no play. Look, Mitch and I are racing at Warwick next weekend – why don’t you come along? Bring Peter Thingy if you want to –’

  ‘I couldn’t,’ Megan answered quickly. ‘And anyway, Peter will be playing rugby.’

  ‘Give yourself a little holiday, then,’ Jacey said gaily. ‘Come on your own. You could help me with my car – one of my brothers usually does it but he’s working next weekend. We could go for female solidarity – an all-woman team!’

  Megan was about to refuse, but Jacey’s enthusiasm suddenly got to her, and she grinned.

  ‘Why not? I’d love to. Mitch has all the details, has he?’

  ‘Yes – but he hasn’t told your parents yet.’

  ‘OK.’ Megan nodded. ‘I’ll be discreet.’

  A crowd of rugby wives and girlfriends surged into the cloakroom at that point, and Jacey left to join Mitch.

  Megan looked at the unfamiliar hair in the mirror, and wondered why both she and Mitch were being economical with the truth.

  Peter had been served once she reached the bar and was waving an orange juice.

  He beamed at her. ‘I haven’t told a soul! We’ll announce it next weekend. I thought we could invite both lots of parents down to the Blue Boar. The whole team will be there and we can tell everyone at the same time.’

  Megan felt her heart contract with panic.

  ‘Peter – next weekend isn’t such a good idea. Actually, I’ve just been talking to Jacey and –’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t,’ he said, sliding a proprietorial arm round her shoulders. ‘I must say I agree with your mum about that girl. And she’s hardly a suitable companion for a prospective bank manager’s wife – is she?’

  Annoyed, Megan pulled away from him.

  ‘Don’t be such a snob! She’s a friendly, honest girl. OK, she might be a bit unconventional in her behaviour and her appearance, but once you get to know her –’

  ‘Which I don’t intend to do!’ Peter laughed, not at all annoyed. ‘So, as I was saying, about next weekend –’

  ‘I’m not going to be –’ Megan started, but her voice was swamped by a drum roll from the band.

  ‘Oh – great!’ Peter’s cronies all swarmed forward. ‘It’s the silly session! Come on, Meg – don’t be a party pooper!’

  Megan could have stamped in frustration as she found herself dragged between Peter and Toby into something that could only be described as a rugby scrum to music.

  I’ll have to tell him later, she thought as she was whirled giddily from person to person. On the way home I’ll tell him, when we’re on our own.

  ‘That’s it, Megan!’ Nigel panted as they executed a sort of pas de deux in the middle of the circle. ‘Join in!’

  She caught a glimpse of Mitch and Jacey, still sitting at their table, looking at th
e mayhem with amusement, and suddenly she wanted to be as far away from the rugby club as possible.

  ‘What’s up?’ Peter yelled as they met in a whirl. ‘Don’t you feel well?’

  ‘No – I’ve got a headache.’ Megan winced as the scrum danced around her. ‘Would you mind if we went?’

  ‘Went?’ He was dancing with Neil’s wife, Jenny. ‘Go home, you mean? Oh, Meg, no! It’s just getting warmed up!’

  ‘Please, Peter. We need to talk –’

  ‘Talk later!’ Nigel shouted in her ear. ‘Enjoy yourself!’

  ‘Peter!’ Megan felt tears stinging her eyes. ‘Please!’

  Laughing, Peter shook his head.

  His team-mates were watching the exchange with interest, and Megan shrugged.

  ‘OK. I’m sure someone will drive you back, Peter, but I’m going …’

  She almost expected him to follow her, but when she reached the doorway and looked over her shoulder, he was still laughing uproariously with his mates.

  Megan shook her head. She wasn’t surprised. It was the way it had always been.

  Grabbing her coat, she hurried out into the cold night.

  The drive back to Lavender Lane took very little time. It was a clear night with frost already dusting the verges, and the roads were deserted.

  The bungalow was practically in darkness and Megan sighed. She would have loved to curl up by her parents’ fire to tell them about Peter’s proposal – and her doubts. But it looked as though they were having an early night.

  There was a light in Matt and Sally’s living room. They were probably watching the late film, maybe with Kim cuddled between them on the sofa.

  The thought of her niece, all drowsy and warm, made Megan smile. She’d just pop in for five minutes. Matt would understand.

  She picked her way across the frosted path to Matt’s front door but as she raised her hand to knock, she stopped in her tracks. She could hear Matt’s raised voice – but not his words – and then Sally’s rather shrill and obviously tearful reply.

  Megan pulled a face. Not a good time for a visit! But as she turned she couldn’t help hearing what her sister-in-law was shouting.

  ‘I don’t care why you did it, Matt! You can talk all night and I still won’t understand. What I do understand is that your parents will kill you when they find out!’

  Chapter Five

  ‘Matt, How Could You?’

  It was Tuesday afternoon. The wind howled round the bungalow beneath a low, yellow sky, and Lavender Cabs were run off their feet. Everyone wanted taxis. No one could face that biting wind, not even to wait for a bus.

  Amy paced up and down her parents’ living room, clenching and unclenching her hands. Not only was she dreading this confrontation with her sister and brother-in-law, but she was worried about Megan and Matt.

  Megan had told her parents about Peter’s proposal – and they had said, Amy thought, all the right things in the circumstances. But then Megan had burst into tears, mumbled that she didn’t know what she wanted any more, and fled from the room, leaving her parents staring after her helplessly.

  And Matt … Amy shook her head.

  Matt and Sally had taken Kim and gone to London. For a break, Matt had said, white-faced, but while Sally had said nothing, her red-rimmed eyes spoke volumes.

  Bob had protested that Lavender Cabs was really busy, it wasn’t the best time for anyone to take a break, but Matt had become so agitated that Amy had stepped in as mediator.

  And now there was this.

  ‘If they don’t turn up soon, Mum, I’ll have to go. Bob’s out driving with Matt being away, and Megan’s manning the radio. We’re really pushed.’

  Amy’s father grinned from the depths of his armchair beside the fire.

  ‘Don’t go complaining about too much work, lass. And Judith and Paul will be here soon – don’t fret. She was adamant on the phone. She said it had to be this afternoon. They’ve got something to tell us.’

  Amy sighed. ‘Please let it be that Paul has got a fabulous job offer in the Outer Hebrides and that all four of them will be packing their bags!’

  Stella Foster laughed. ‘Amy! This is your sister we’re talking about.’

  ‘I know.’ Amy sighed. ‘Sorry, Mum. I just don’t think I can cope with another whinge about me and Bob having done them out of their inheritance.’

  ‘That makes three of us.’ Jim tapped out his pipe on the mantelpiece. ‘I’m glad they’ve decided that they want to bring it all out into the open. Listen – is that their car?’

  Stella bustled to the window. ‘Yes, and they’ve got Debbie and Dean with them – looking as sulky as ever.’

  ‘I don’t know why they don’t let those poor kids get on with their lives! Let Debbie go to art school and Dean study music, like they want to,’ Amy said. ‘They must be thoroughly cheesed off with being dragged into this.’

  ‘They’re not bad kids, considering, but I’m glad Paul wasn’t my father,’ Jim growled.

  Amy hugged him. ‘So am I. I’ve the best dad in the world – and the best mum, of course.’

  Jim beamed, and Stella was smiling as she hurried into the hall.

  Paul bustled in, the collar on his sheepskin jacket turned up, and rubbed his hands. ‘Nice and warm in here, Dad. Hello, Amy.’

  ‘Hello.’ Amy forced a smile. ‘I think it’ll snow before the day’s out.’ Judith pressed her cheek against her sister’s.

  ‘I know you’re busy, Amy, so we won’t keep you.’

  Amy noted that the whole family looked happier than she had seen them look for a long time.

  ‘The kettle’s on,’ Stella announced. ‘Sit yourselves down.’

  Dean and Debbie, looking out of place and wary, perched on the edge of the sofa and everyone else found a chair.

  ‘We won’t waste anyone’s time,’ Paul said in his parade-ground voice. It had probably commanded great respect during his army career but now only served to set Amy’s teeth on edge.

  ‘We’ll put our cards on the table.’

  ‘Shares, actually,’ Judith giggled and everyone looked at her.

  ‘Yes, well.’ Paul took back the initiative. ‘As I understand it, shares in Lavender – both the taxi business and the garage – were divided with Bob and Amy holding forty-nine and Jim and Stella fifty-one. On Jim’s retirement, he held one share only and divided the others up between the Phillips children –’

  ‘Yes,’ Amy said. ‘We’ve been through all this a hundred times …’ She didn’t like the way Judith was smiling.

  ‘– with Megan and Matt each receiving twenty shares and Mitchell having the remaining ten?’ Paul went on as though without interruption.

  Jim nodded, and Stella leaned forward.

  ‘But Mitchell didn’t want to be a shareholder, so Jim and I hold eleven in all. Bob and Amy are majority shareholders, with Megan and Matt holding the balance. There isn’t any room for negotiation, Paul. We divided the business up as we saw fit.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Paul grinned. ‘That’s all water under the bridge. We’ve solved the problem our way.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that!’ Jim lit his pipe, resting his head back in his chair. ‘Go and make that tea, Stella, and maybe we can all start behaving like a proper family again.’

  Amy, watching her brother-in-law closely, had a sense of foreboding.

  ‘How exactly have you solved the problem, Paul?’

  ‘It was very simple.’ Judith gave the tinkling laugh that had irritated Amy from childhood. ‘Maybe if you spent more time with your children, Amy, as we do with ours …’ She smiled at Dean and Debbie, who didn’t meet her eyes.

  ‘Get to the point, Judith.’ Stella glared at both her daughters. ‘You’re grown women with families – not little girls squabbling over hair ribbons!’

  ‘We now own twenty shares in Lavender!’ Judith’s words rang out triumphantly. ‘And we’re here to tell you how we intend to use them.’

  Silence invaded
the room. Only the fire was brave enough to make a sound until Jim’s pipe fell into the hearth with a clatter, breaking the spell.

  ‘Sally has been wanting to start her own business for some considerable time,’ Judith explained. ‘But because of this notion that the Phillips family can only be involved in Lavender, she’s been unable to do so. We – um – helped her out of that situation …’

  ‘No!’ Amy jumped to her feet. ‘Not Matt? You haven’t …?’

  ‘He didn’t take much persuasion,’ Judith said quietly. ‘He was desperate to keep Sally happy, to keep his marriage together. We gave him a fair price. Certainly enough for them to start this aromatherapy thing that Sally’s so keen on …’

  Stella and Jim sat looking stunned. Amy could feel the tears burning her eyes. So that was why Matt and Sally had decided on their impromptu holiday! She felt sick. Why on earth hadn’t Matt told her? No, that was obvious. He’d known only too well how she and Bob would react.

  ‘But we would have to have been, told, surely?’ Amy protested. ‘The other shareholders would have to agree, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘Not unless it was going to alter the balance of power,’ Stella explained, her eyes cold as she surveyed her son-in-law. ‘I assume you took legal advice?’

  ‘Naturally. It was all done through our solicitor. Matt will carry on driving for Lavender, of course,’ Paul said. ‘He’ll also be employed on the garage side. He’ll simply take a salary – as Mitchell does. It seems as though your children, Amy, aren’t quite as keen on Lavender Cabs as you are,’ he added in a sneering tone.

  ‘We’d like Debbie and Dean to become involved in the business,’ Judith went on. ‘I’ll help out as and when, and we’d like to suggest that Paul becomes marketing manager …’

  ‘What?’ Jim roared, jerked out of his stunned silence. ‘Lavender doesn’t need a marketing manager!’

  ‘Oh, but it might,’ Paul said quietly, ‘if we’re going to interest the big boys. This is our opportunity to drag Lavender where it belongs – into the twenty-first century. Into the world of multi-retailing, fast food, promotions –’

  ‘Never! Not as long as I’ve got breath in my body!’ Amy looked wildly at her parents. ‘Mum – Dad – tell him!’