‘Wow. I don’t know what to say, Jo.’
‘Don’t say anything. You’re incredible, little sister. Now, what happened with Gil after Jack and I left?’
Mattie closed her eyes. ‘Nothing. Whatever happened on the trip was a fluke, I think. He just blanked me tonight. To be honest, I’d hoped him seeing Reenie and the band sing again might bring him back to wherever he was in his head when we got together. But – I’m not going to pursue it. I want to get back home, you know? Back to my life. And make it what I want it to be. It’ll be good to be able to do that without asking for anyone else’s input. I’ve learned that much from Grandpa Joe. I suppose I have him to thank for it, in a strange way.’
‘No. This is all you, M. All of it. Don’t ever feel guilty for being right. It was your decision to choose Asher, your right to make the mistake. And it was a mistake only because he stuffed up, so there’s no need to blame yourself for that, either. Listen, if Gil can’t see what an amazing, courageous woman you are then screw him, quite frankly.’
Mattie laughed at her sister’s uncharacteristic bluntness – and all at once the tension and stress from the night dissipated. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow evening, okay? And promise me, Jo, if you need me you’ll say so? I don’t want us to have any secrets from now on.’
‘Deal. Now, get some sleep in that ridiculously overpriced room you’re in. And order room service with champagne – that’s what I’d do. It’s about time you celebrated everything you’ve achieved tonight. I love you, baby sis.’
‘Love you, too. G’night.’
Alone in her luxurious room, Mattie considered everything she now knew. Joe Bell’s mistake and the changes it had wrought in Grandpa Joe; Joanna’s secret pain; and the row that had stolen her own final precious weeks with her grandfather. Not everything had been resolved – some things had been gained, and some lost. Despite it all, she was proud of herself. Nobody could take that away from her. Just as Reenie had reclaimed her place tonight in the group she’d abandoned, Mattie felt as if she had finally made peace with her past.
Like her, Grandpa Joe had made mistakes he couldn’t change. He would continue to do so for the rest of his life, as Mattie no doubt would, too. Because, when all was said and done, that was life: a constant carousel of triumph and defeat, of if-onlys and bright possibilities. What made the difference between a life shackled by regret and a life given wings to soar over it was whether you let the past affect your future. Mattie wanted to fly. And it felt like the greatest achievement.
Chapter Thirty-Six
‘Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera, Sera)’ – Doris Day
Next morning, after an impossibly sumptuous breakfast, Reenie and Mattie stood in the grand foyer of the Ritz, their bags packed.
‘So, this is it,’ Reenie said, her smile edged with sadness. ‘The end of our incredible journey.’
‘Looks like it.’ Mattie hugged her. ‘Thank you. It’s been – eventful.’
‘Excuse me, Miss Silver?’ A liveried concierge was approaching them.
Reenie turned like a dame of the realm. ‘Yes?’
‘Your car is here, madam. Can I take your luggage?’
‘Certainly, Michael,’ she replied, winking at Mattie.
Mattie had to stifle her amusement as the concierge solemnly carried her battered old gym holdall outside. ‘Poor bloke.’
‘I wonder how much it would be to get him to drive us,’ Reenie grinned, paying far too much attention to the departing man’s figure. ‘I’ve always nicked things from hotels but I reckon there’s still room in my cottage for a concierge.’
Leaving the hotel, they emerged onto damp Piccadilly, where a gleaming Aston Martin with darkened windows and leather seats was parked. A smart-suited chauffeur stood smiling by the open rear passenger door.
‘What’s this?’ Mattie asked, hardly believing her eyes.
‘This is a car, Mattie,’ Reenie answered, a wicked glint in her eyes. ‘Have you not seen one before?’
‘Very funny. Is this for us? Really?’
‘If anyone deserves to ride home in style, it’s you, Mattie Bell. I think you’ve done enough driving. Marcel here is going to drive us home, aren’t you, love?’
The chauffeur nodded.
‘See? Lovely. You can forget your old draughty camper van. This is the way to travel!’
The journey home felt as if they were travelling on air, the suspension of the Aston Martin soothing every bump that Rusty would have registered. Mattie’s thoughts were a million places and nowhere at all, ten days of triumphs, tribulations and turbulence combining to make her feel as if she’d endured the longest out-of-body experience. She wasn’t sure how much it had altered her: when she returned to her own life in a few hours’ time, would it still fit? Fundamentally, she felt changed: what mattered now was how she moved forward. What did she want from her life? She didn’t know exactly, other than she had a burning determination to make her own decisions in future. She had relationships to heal – starting with her mum – and plans to make, to find a home that fit her instead of a house she didn’t quite fit into.
‘Not long till you’re shot of me for good,’ Reenie said, staring out of the passenger window.
‘Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily,’ Mattie replied.
‘Glutton for punishment, are we?’
‘Something like that. Besides, you said last night I was your family. I’m planning on keeping you sweet till you leave me a fortune in your will.’
Reenie chuckled. ‘Touché, kid. Great comeback. Obviously you’ve spent too long with me.’ She reached across the expensive leather seat and rested her hand on Mattie’s, the paper-thin skin and swollen finger joints her only concession to old age. ‘You’d better keep visiting me. With contraband.’
Mattie grinned. ‘Just you try and stop me.’
The heavy rain eased as Marcel turned the car into Beauvale’s wide driveway. Reenie peered up at the building.
‘Not exactly the Ritz, but it’ll do.’
A grim-faced Dr William Lancaster strode out from the entrance, Gaynor Fairchild hurrying beside him.
‘Oh, dear.’
‘Time to face the music, kid,’ Reenie said, as Marcel parked and walked around the car to open her door. ‘After everything I’ve done lately, this’ll be a piggin’ walk in the park. Ah, Billy, how on earth are you?’
‘Relieved to have you back,’ Dr Lancaster replied. ‘And trying to work out how one of my residents – who has one of the most complex health requirements in the entire village – managed to headline a club in Soho last night. Care to enlighten me?’
‘Look, Bill, what can I tell you? A star’s first responsibility is to her fans. Now I could’ve stayed here and denied them the chance to see their idol, or I could have valiantly battled to their side, putting aside all thought of my own wellbeing. They wanted to see Reenie Silver, Bill, and who am I to deny them?’
Mattie could see the battle in the Beauvale director’s eyes as he fought his admiration for Reenie.
‘This can’t happen again. You understand that? And Miss Bell, I trust you’ll help Gaynor and me to ensure Reenie rests from now on?’
Mattie hid her smile. ‘Of course,’ she replied, knowing full well that trying to stop Reenie doing what she wanted was like commanding the tide not to rise.
‘I want to do a full check on you once you’re settled back in your apartment.’ Dr Lancaster turned and marched back inside.
‘Are you in trouble with old Billy-boy?’ Reenie asked Gaynor.
‘I was. But then I made him dinner and, funnily enough, I was able to take his mind off the situation.’
‘Gaynor Fairchild, you little minx!’
‘You taught me well, Reenie. I’m still in the doghouse, but at least I have my job. Thanks for taking care of her, Matilda. I was chuffed to bits to see the concert preparations on the club website. I’ll see you later, Reenie?’
‘That you will.’ Whe
n they were alone, she took Mattie’s hands in hers. ‘Now, do you fancy coming in for a cup of tea to wait until your van gets here?’
‘It’s coming back today?’
‘The garage rang me before breakfast. All fixed and good as – well, not new, but probably better than it was.’
Mattie laughed. ‘Reenie Silver, you are a constant surprise.’
‘So are you, girl. Time you started believing it, too. In fact, watch out world when that happens. Oh, hang on, what’s this?’
Mattie turned as a familiar sound reverberated along the country lane beside the retirement village’s premises. Around the hedge that shielded the car park from the road, Rusty emerged, his every rust-spot, dent and scratch making Mattie’s heart skip. She’d feared the worst yesterday and was prepared to accept that her camper van had made its last journey. But here he was, as loud, cranky and ungainly as ever. It was good to know, after all the ups and downs of the last ten days, that some things would never change.
Reenie squeezed her hand. ‘By the way, love, you know I said there’d be no more revelations on this trip?’
Mattie laughed. ‘You mean besides booking us into the Ritz and bringing us home in an Aston Martin?’
‘Mm-hmm. Well, there’s one more I need to hit you with . . .’
She nodded in the direction of Rusty, now parked at the other end of the car park. Mattie looked over as the driver’s door opened – and everything went quiet.
Gil Kendrick climbed out of the camper van and stood by the open door. He held up his hands but didn’t approach, as if uncertain whether he was allowed to or not.
‘What’s he doing here?’
‘You two need to talk. It wasn’t going to happen last night, but now it can. Don’t lose a chance to be happy because of me, Mattie. I loved you for sticking up for me, but I had no right to ask you to do that. Oh, don’t stand there like a prize onion, kid! Go and talk to the fella. If you want him to leave, fine. I’m sure Marcel here will give him a lift home. But you have to ask him to go. I’m going in for a brew. The Three Furies will be itching to hear my news. Marcel, love, you come with me. We’re not needed here now.’ As she let Mattie’s hands go, she winked. ‘Be happy, Mattie Bell – whatever that is for you.’
Mattie didn’t move at first. She wanted to grab her keys and drive away, but to do that would mean approaching Gil and getting past him. What was Reenie thinking? Surely they’d said all they needed to say last night?
‘I didn’t know . . .’ she began, hating the hesitation in her voice.
‘Reenie’s idea.’
‘Obviously. Look, thanks for driving my van back, but I have to get home.’
‘Let me drive you there.’
‘No. Thanks anyway.’
Gil took a few steps across the gravel drive, each one seeming to boom around the retirement buildings. ‘I was wrong, okay?’
‘About what? Reenie? Leaving the hotel without talking to me? Blanking me last night?’
‘I didn’t blank you last night – what did you expect me to do? We had a concert to put on. We were run off our feet . . .’
‘You could have said why.’
‘You know why.’
Mattie groaned. ‘No, Gil, I don’t. One minute you were supporting the gig and part of the team, and the next you just ran away. What was I supposed to think?’
‘I was angry.’
‘I know you were. So was I. You didn’t wait to find out what I thought. You just left. How am I supposed to answer that?’
‘I thought Reenie was lying. I’m still not sure she isn’t. But she cares about you and – so do I.’
I can’t listen to this now. What does it even mean? ‘All my life, I’ve had people try to tell me how to think, how to feel, what’s best for me. And when I don’t do what they say, it feels like I’m the one at fault. I believe Reenie’s story. She had no need to make it up – not when the story she’d told everyone about Rico poaching her from the group to be a solo star painted her in a far more favourable light. You were upset about Jacob’s part in it – and trust me, I understand that – but you dismissed me because I chose to believe Reenie. And then you just became like every other person who has claimed to know my own mind better than me. Even Reenie – she meant well getting you to come today, but it’s just someone else’s idea of what I want.’
Gil frowned. ‘So what do you want, Mattie? No, come on, I’m asking.’
Mattie willed the heavens to open so she could make her escape. Why was Gil staring at her like that? Like he was willing the answer she hadn’t been able to avoid for days to come out?
‘I want to be happy. Being me. I want to make my own decisions, stumble over whatever obstacles life throws at me, and make my own mistakes. And more than anything, I don’t want to worry constantly about what anyone else thinks. Including you.’ Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. ‘Especially you.’
He began to walk towards her. She didn’t step back. ‘I had no right to make you feel like that. I’m sorry.’
‘Forget it. It’s done.’
‘I don’t think I can. And I don’t think it is. Do you?’
Mattie thought of Grandpa Joe, then; of the dreamer he had once been. And how he had resolutely packed that person away when he’d returned to Shropshire, broken and ashamed. She had two options: let the past define who she was now, or take the risk that her heart might be vulnerable in the future. When she thought of it like that, there was only one real choice.
Whatever happens, it’s my decision to make.
‘It isn’t over,’ she said.
And as she pulled him into her arms and kissed him, she finally understood what Reenie Silver had told her during one of their earliest meetings: ‘If I’d waited around for everyone to be happy with me, I’d still be waiting now. You’ll always know what you want. It might be hidden deep beneath great stacks of worry, or other people’s rubbish, but if you dig down enough, it’ll be there. The question is, are you willing to search for it, no matter what?’
Anything could happen in the future. But Mattie wasn’t scared. I’m ready, she decided, as their kiss deepened. I’m going to follow my heart . . .
Chapter Thirty-Seven
‘You Send Me’ – Sam Cooke
‘Ray Charles?’
‘One barmy night in . . .’ Reenie caught Mattie’s smile. ‘No, I didn’t. Only in my dreams.’
‘Lonnie Donegan?’
‘Met him. Loved him. Didn’t shag him.’
‘Marty Wilde?’
‘Ah, Marty. Little terror, he was.’
‘Buddy Holly?’
‘Adored him. Never met the poor lad, though.’
Mattie watched the Beauvale residents milling around the garden with their visitors. The December afternoon had brought everyone out wrapped in so many layers against the wintry chill that it appeared the garden was being laid siege to by an army of Arctic Weebles. ‘Okay, did you ever meet Adam Faith?’
‘I did.’
‘And?’
‘Not telling. Next!’
Mattie still didn’t know how truthful Reenie’s tales were. Maybe she never would. The stories were fantastic either way – and better still because Mattie suspected they were now all for her benefit.
‘Burt Bacharach.’
‘Do me a favour.’
‘He wrote amazing songs.’
‘That’s as maybe, but he didn’t float my boat. His face was too big.’
Mattie giggled. ‘Johnny Cash.’
‘Now you’re talking! Never met him, wish I had. Sex in a Stetson, that one.’
‘Ugh. Thanks for that.’
‘What? You don’t stop lusting when your faculties get dodgy, you know. Let a girl dream, eh?’
‘Dream on, then. Um . . . Bee Gees?’
‘Too many teeth.’
Gil grinned as he stopped beside Reenie. ‘The Pogues.’
‘Not enough teeth.’
‘Harsh.’
/> ‘Get away with you, Kendrick. You don’t appreciate my stories anyway.’
‘Fine. I know when I’m not wanted,’ he smiled, kissing Mattie and heading into the frosty garden, where Gaynor and the catering manager were serving mulled wine and mince pies to the residents and their families.
‘He’s all right, your chap. For a southerner. I’d prefer his brother, given the choice, though.’
‘Colm’s happily married, so mitts off.’
‘Shame. Ask me another.’
‘Um . . . Vince Eager?’
‘Eager in every sense. Met him when I was playing the circuit on my own. Next?’
‘Cliff Richard?’
‘No fear. His Shadows were far more interesting, mind.’
‘You’re too picky, that’s your problem.’
‘And you’re too pushy nowadays. Honestly, Mattie, you do one little tour and you think you’re bleedin’ Cameron Mackintosh.’
‘So, tell me about Elvis. In Vegas.’
‘Can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘I promised him, didn’t I? It would break poor Priscilla’s heart if she knew.’
Mattie smiled into her plastic cup of mulled wine. ‘Right.’
‘But it was special. I’ll tell you that much.’
‘Okay.’
‘Skin so soft it took your breath away.’
Mattie stopped smiling and gawped at her. ‘Really?’
‘I’m not sayin’.’
‘But you just—’
‘Pass us those violet crèmes, now. You’re hogging them.’
Mattie caught Gil’s eye and turned to her friend. She hadn’t been sure when to broach the subject they’d come to present to her, but now seemed as good a time as any. ‘Reenie?’
‘Mm-hmm?’
‘How would you feel about another gig?’
‘Another one? Does Gaynor know about this?’
‘Not yet. It’s just an idea.’
Reenie pulled up the cowl neck of her diamante-strewn navy blue knitted shawl. ‘Where?’
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