by Jill Mansell
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not sure…” Patsy hesitated; how could she put it delicately? She’d seen the steam-train enthusiasts at a country fair last summer, and they’d sported quilted nylon vests, flat caps, and untrimmed beards. Plus they were all over fifty.
“What’s wrong?” demanded Tess after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.
“Well, it’s just…” Most of them had smoked pipes too, and there’d been a fair amount of gray chest hair poking through the gaps between the straining buttons on their rather grubby checked shirts. Oh God, she just couldn’t…
“Fine then,” Tess announced, evidently miffed. “If you’re going to be fussy. But it’s not as if there are eligible men falling over themselves to get at you, is it? Be fair.”
Which was true, but also a bit cruel. Patsy watched as Will lifted Ella over his shoulder and expertly patted her back until she burped. She wondered what Tess would have to say if she were to suddenly announce that actually she had an eligible man hiding in her cottage right now.
Then again, it wasn’t as if he was interested in her, so it hardly counted.
In fact, after three days and nights of him being here in Stanton Langley, she had a sneaking suspicion that the person Eddie Tessler might be romantically interested in was Lily.
Chapter 12
Sometimes, how you react to something unexpected depends entirely on the kind of day you’ve been having.
For Declan Madison, not for any one big reason but thanks to several small ones, it hadn’t been a good day. Ridiculous traffic in central London had resulted in him being late for an important meeting. Then, returning after the meeting to his car, he’d found a deep scratch along the passenger-side panel. Two hours later, following another appointment that had run over by five minutes, he’d picked up a parking ticket.
Now, all he really wanted to do upon arriving home was sit down and relax, order takeout, and watch a bit of mindless TV.
Except that wasn’t going to happen, because Gail had organized one of her dinner parties, and it was being held here in his house, which meant he was going to have to be polite to four other couples, who would spend the evening quizzing him about property prices and competing to show off about their vacations, their cars, and everything else they’d achieved in their wonderful lives.
Because Gail’s friends were drawn from a group Declan privately referred to as the Perfects. The women tended to be thin and brittle, the men paunchy and rich. They attended charitable events, but mainly to be seen as charitable. They didn’t appear to have much genuine concern for those whose lives were less wonderful than their own.
Anyway, nothing he could do about it now; downstairs was a hive of activity as the caterers prepared the meal and Gail oversaw the table arrangements.
“Darling, you’re late. You need to go get changed.” She pointed upstairs when she saw Declan in the hallway. “Drinks at seven thirty. I need you down here by quarter past.”
“Fine.” He collected the little pile of mail waiting for him on the hall table. “What are we having?”
“Smoked trout salad. And fillet of pork with Dijon sauce.”
Dijon sauce. Declan suppressed a sigh. He wasn’t fond of mustard.
Upstairs, he kicked off his shoes and threw himself onto the bed. He was very fond of Gail, and she had some great qualities, but her enthusiasm for arranging dinner parties wasn’t one of them. What would she do if he fell asleep and didn’t appear?
OK, he already knew the answer to that question.
He sifted through the mail, arranging the envelopes in order of interest. Bill…bank statement…yet another parking fine…car brochure…and finally something in a proper envelope with handwriting on the front.
Actual handwritten handwriting, at that.
He tore it open, mildly intrigued. Who even sent letters these days, written by hand?
Well, this person, evidently. He unfolded the good-quality sheets of pale-green writing paper and took an instinctive liking to whoever’s handwriting it was.
The next moment a name jumped out at him, and his heart did a double beat. What? Jo? But how could the letter be from her, when it wasn’t her writing?
And then he began to read.
Dear Declan,
Hello, you don’t know me, but I hope I’m sending this to the right person. My name is Lily Harper, and I’m the daughter of Jo Harper. OK, I’m just going to assume you’re the right Declan Madison and ask if you remember my mum. Do you? Back when you were both eighteen and working in Barcelona? Oh, I do hope you do, because you meant so much to her. I’d hate to think you’d forgotten.
So anyway, the sad news is that Mum died a while ago now. Seventeen years, in fact. And I know you broke up and lost touch when you were nineteen, so you must be wondering why on earth I’m writing to you now. The thing is, it was my twenty-fifth birthday a couple of days ago, and Mum left a letter for me to open. (When she found out she was dying, she began writing letters for me to open on my birthdays, and this was the last one.) In it, she mentioned your surname for the first time, which is how I was able to look you up. She also told me you were the love of her life. And she gave me her most treasured possession, a silver bangle that you’d given to her. I wonder if you remember that too? I’m wearing it now!
I hope you don’t mind me writing to you out of the blue like this. I was brought up by Mum’s fantastic best friend, Coral, and her late husband, Nick, and have had a very happy life, living and working here in Stanton Langley, but I would love to know more about my mum if you have any stories you’d be happy to share with me. You can email, or I’d be happy to come to London if you’d like to meet up. Whichever you prefer.
It would be so great to meet you, but if for any reason you don’t want to be in touch, could you drop me an email just to let me know? Otherwise, I’ll be waiting forever, wondering if this letter ever reached you!
Best wishes and many thanks,
Lily Harper
Declan read the letter twice more, his pulse racing each time he got to the bit telling him Jo was dead. Had been dead for so long. No wonder he’d never managed to trace her. He’d assumed it was because she’d married and was now using another surname. But it wasn’t for that reason at all; it was because she was no longer alive.
He felt winded. It wasn’t the kind of letter you ever expected to receive. It was a lot to take—
“Oh, for heaven’s sake—what are you doing?” The bedroom door had been flung open, and Gail was staring at him in disbelief.
“I needed to go through the mail.” Declan indicated the discarded envelopes littering the bed.
“Never mind about the mail; you haven’t even had your shower yet! Everyone’s going to be here in ten minutes!”
He held up the sheets of writing paper. “I’ve had a letter from the daughter of an old friend.”
“Declan, what am I, the invisible woman? Listen to me! You need to get ready now.”
Gail got a bit high-pitched when she was stressed, and at the moment she was both. Now clearly wasn’t the time to tell her about Jo. Refolding the letter, Declan swung his legs off the bed. “Give me eight minutes, and I’ll be down.”
Chapter 13
It was seven o’clock on Saturday evening, and Patsy had just burst out laughing at something Eddie had said when the doorbell shrilled.
By now they’d developed an efficient routine. The stairs and upstairs landing were too creaky and would instantly give away the fact that someone else was there. Far simpler for Eddie to just keep out of sight until Patsy had gotten rid of whoever it was. He rose to his feet, collected his dinner plate and wineglass, and disappeared, as silent as a ghost, into the kitchen.
Patsy pulled open her front door. “Oh, hi!” she said when she saw who was standing on the doorstep.
Her ex-husband.
And his new husband.
Sean and Will.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Sean greeted her with a brief kiss on the cheek. “OK if we come in?”
“Um, well…”
“Not for long. Just a few minutes.”
“Actually, I’m a bit pushed for time.” Patsy did an ostentatious watch check, the effect somewhat spoiled by the discovery that she’d left her watch in the kitchen.
“Me too. I have to get over to the pub. But there’s something we wanted to say. Come on.” Sean guided her gently backward into the cottage. “Five minutes and we’ll leave you in peace.”
Will and Sean, the happiest couple she knew. Patsy perched on the arm of the chair by the fireplace, and they sat on the sofa opposite. Sean was wearing a charcoal-gray polo shirt and black trousers that showed off his broad, muscular physique. Will had changed out of the clothes he wore in the salon into a black T-shirt and jeans. Since it was Saturday, he’d be heading off to a training session at his beloved boxing club.
“Right, so what’s this about?” She definitely wasn’t going to offer them a drink.
“OK, straight to the point.” Sean leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, fingers loosely clasped together. “You want a baby. Time could be running out. If you decide you’d like to go ahead and have one… Well, just so you know, I’d be happy to volunteer to be the…donor.”
Patsy sat back, her eyes widening in disbelief. Wow. Whatever she’d been expecting him to come out with, it hadn’t been that.
Finally she said, “What’s brought this on?”
He shrugged. “It’s an offer. An idea, that’s all. Something to think about.”
It was certainly that.
“I see you at work,” Will joined in. “Like yesterday, when you were looking at Ella. I hear all the things people say to you and the jokes they make about you not being able to find yourself a man. And you laugh it off, pretend it doesn’t hurt.” He paused. “But it does hurt. You know that, and we both know it too.”
“Right.” They were looking at her with genuine compassion, like parents wanting to do their very best for their child.
“And so many women get panicky and desperate,” Sean said, “and end up having a baby with the next guy who comes along, without even stopping to wonder if he’s suitable.” He gave her a serious look. “I’m not saying you’d do that, but it happens. And the thing is, we know each other. You know I’m healthy.” After a moment’s hesitation he went on, “OK, listen. What I’m trying to say is it could be the answer for all of us. You’d have the baby you want…and so would we.”
“We? You mean you and Will?”
“We’ve thought about it,” said Sean. “A lot. We’d love to be involved. It’s worked for other people in our situation…”
“Gosh.” Patsy twisted her fingers together, struggling to take in the offer.
“It’s an option.” Will shrugged. “You don’t have to make any decisions now. It’s just there on the table, and we’d be fine with whatever you decide. Both of us,” he stressed.
“OK, well…thanks, Sean.” Still numb, Patsy stood up. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“You do that.” As they were leaving, Sean said, “No hurry. And hey”—he gave her arm a squeeze—“you never know, it could be the answer to everything.”
Will smiled and added encouragingly, “It could be great.”
* * *
“Well,” Eddie marveled when they’d left and she’d opened the kitchen door. “It’s all going on around here.”
Patsy exhaled, glad he wasn’t pretending not to have heard everything. Of course he had; the kitchen door hadn’t been completely closed, and he’d been less than ten feet away from them.
“Wow.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Is it a good surprise?” Eddie poured her a fresh glass of wine.
“No idea. I can’t even begin to think about it.” They returned to the living room, and she sat back down, properly this time, in the armchair. Eddie settled himself on the sofa. It was actually surprising how quickly the novelty of him being famous had worn off. She’d gotten used to Eddie just being himself.
“That was your ex and his other half?”
Patsy nodded; she’d already told him briefly about Sean and Will.
“They sound nice.”
“They are. And they’re perfect together.”
“How did they meet?”
“All thanks to me.” Patsy smiled, though her feelings had been a little more mixed at the time. “It was just over a year after Sean and I had split up. I’d been pretty heartbroken, but working in the salon helped. Then Rosa entered us in one of the big national hairdressing competitions in Birmingham, and the day before we were due to go there, my gearbox exploded. So Sean offered to drive us up in his car. When we got there, he helped me carry my stuff in and set up my station.” She took a sip of wine. “And the hairdresser at the station next to mine was Will.”
“Fate,” Eddie said.
“I know. But neither of them looked remotely gay. And their gaydar was rubbish. I could see them sneaking looks at each other, but they genuinely didn’t have a clue. The boxer and the rugby player. Bless them,” said Patsy. “It wasn’t until the end of the day that Will said something to me in passing about my husband, and I told him Sean was my ex-husband. Then he said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ and I said, ‘Actually, he’s gay.’ And the moment I saw the look on his face, I knew for sure. I told him if he was interested, he should ask for Sean’s number, and he finally plucked up the courage just as we were leaving. And that was the start of it all.”
“Amazing. So then he ended up working with you.”
“They’d been seeing each other whenever they could, but Will was living up in Manchester at the time, so it wasn’t ideal. Then Rosa told me she was leaving the salon, moving back to London. It was my idea that Will could take her place.” Patsy shrugged. “And it’s worked out brilliantly. He’s a great hairdresser. The clients love him to bits. And so do I.”
“Hmm.” As Eddie raised a playful eyebrow, there was a double tap at the door, signaling Lily’s arrival.
Jumping up to let her in, Patsy said, “In a nonsexy way, of course.”
* * *
It was eleven thirty when a yawning Patsy said her good nights and headed up to bed.
“Night.” Lily waved and put down her coffee cup. “I should go too.”
Eddie said, “Why? You don’t have to. Stay a bit longer.”
“You’re so needy.” Lily grinned at him.
They both heard the creaking of the floorboards on the landing, then Patsy’s bedroom door close behind her.
“I’m not needy. I just like talking to you.”
Which sounded flattering.
“Let’s face it,” said Lily. “You like talking, and there aren’t many of us listeners to choose from.”
“But if there were hundreds, I’d still choose you.” Eddie tilted his head to one side, gray eyes glittering.
“Don’t give me your movie-star smile.”
“That isn’t my movie-star smile. This is my movie-star smile.” He flashed his teeth at her, archvillain-style.
“Now you look like Dick Dastardly.”
Eddie laughed. “Not too many people say things like that to me. Maybe that’s why I like you.”
“That and the mini Magnums I bring along with me.” Lily prodded the empty wrappers on the coffee table in front of them.
“They definitely help.” Amused, he said, “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“You asked me that question before. I told you, it just hasn’t happened.”
“You didn’t say why, though. I asked Patsy earlier. She told me the real reason.”
“That I’m a horrible person and no one lik
es me?”
“She said she was a complete mess when her marriage broke up, and you supported her through the next two years.”
Lily shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? Patsy helped me after my mum died. Boyfriends come and go, but friends are forever.”
“Then, once she was coping again, you started seeing someone, and it was all going really well. And then Coral’s husband died.”
She nodded. “That’s right. It was horrendous. One minute Nick was there, alive and healthy, and everything was fine. The next minute, he was gone. Massive heart attack. Poor Coral, she was just bereft. So, so lost. She couldn’t concentrate on anything, couldn’t begin to work out how to keep the business running without Nick. He was her whole life.”
“So then you had to look after her,” Eddie said.
Lily shook her head. “I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”
“It must have been pretty awful for you as well. They were your surrogate parents.”
“It was awful. But worse for Coral. She needed us to help her get through it.”
“So you got rid of your boyfriend in order to do that.”
Lily smiled briefly. “That makes me sound incredibly noble. It was more a matter of Phil showing his true colors. He was great for the first couple of weeks after the funeral, then he started complaining because I didn’t want to leave Coral on her own and go out clubbing with him.”
“Nice,” said Eddie.
“I know. He told me I shouldn’t fuss over her, that she needed to get used to being on her own.” Drily, Lily said, “Such a charmer. It was incredibly easy to finish with him after that.”
“His turn to get used to being on his own,” Eddie said. “Did he take it well?”
“Not so you’d notice, but he got the message in the end. No great loss.”
“And you worked your socks off looking after Coral and keeping the business afloat. Quite a feat. You can be proud of yourself for managing that.”
