by Jill Mansell
Their eyes met across the table, and Declan said gently, “That’s good.”
“How about you?” Coral asked. “Did you ever want children?”
They were already aware that he didn’t have any of his own. Declan said, “I lived with a lovely woman fifteen years ago. We were together for four years altogether. We tried for a family, Meg got pregnant, then she miscarried.” He hesitated, then said, “Twice. Both times at ten weeks.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. That must have been awful,” Lily said. “For both of you.”
“It was a rough time,” Declan admitted. “Meg was devastated. We broke up a year after the second miscarriage. The good news is, I heard through friends that she married an Italian guy and went on to have healthy twin boys.” He shrugged. “I’m happy for her.”
“Not so easy, though, is it?” There were sympathetic tears in Coral’s eyes.
“It was a long time ago. I’m used to it now.” Finishing the last mouthful of coffee, Declan said, “Life goes on.”
* * *
It was one thirty in the morning by the time Declan arrived back in Notting Hill. When he saw the lights on in the house, he knew Gail had come over and let herself in and was waiting for him. Well, either that or the burglar had forgotten his flashlight.
When he climbed the stairs and pushed open the bedroom door, she was sitting up in his bed.
“Hi,” Declan said.
“Darling, I’m sorry.” She closed her laptop and placed it on the bedside table. Her long hair gleamed in the flattering lamplight, and she was wearing an elegant pistachio silk nightgown. “What can I tell you? I was having a tough day at work, everyone else was being an idiot, and I wanted to yell at them, but I couldn’t. Then I got your text and took it out on you.”
“Right. I guessed it might have been something like that.” Declan kept his tone neutral. When she’d messaged him earlier to ask where he was, he’d told her Stanton Langley without elaborating further. The reply had come flying back:
Sounds to me like you’d far rather be there than here. It’s been nice knowing you. Good-bye.
The message had come through at three o’clock, while he’d been at Weaver’s Cottage meeting with the kitchen fitter recommended by Coral. He’d switched off his cell phone without replying.
“Come here.” Gail held out her toned arms, beckoning him closer. “I didn’t mean it. You do know I didn’t mean it, don’t you?”
Declan hesitated, then nodded. There were unshed tears shimmering in her eyes, and she was silently pleading with him for forgiveness, which wasn’t something that came naturally to her.
“I do. Listen, there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve met Lily and her friends and family. I like them all. But I like Stanton Langley too. It’s a fantastic place. If you saw it, you’d understand what I’m talking about.”
Gail was nodding along enthusiastically as he said it, eager to make amends. “I will. I’d like to. So you went there to see Lily and the village. It’d be great to meet her. We could go down next weekend.”
“Fine, we’ll do that. I bought a property there this morning.”
That took her aback. “You did?”
“It’s my job. I went to the auction and snapped it up.” He shrugged. “It’s a great investment.”
“To live in?”
“Not to live in.” He shook his head; she knew he’d often talked about one day leaving London and moving out to Kent or maybe Berkshire. As a committed city-dweller herself, the idea was anathema to her.
“So it’s just something to fix up and sell.” She looked relieved.
“I haven’t decided yet. Either sell it or add it to the portfolio and rent it out. If you did want to come and see it for yourself, you could tell me what you think.”
“I will. And I’m sorry about earlier.” Gail reached for him and pulled his face down to hers for a kiss, then patted the mattress beside her. “It’s late. Come to bed.”
“I’m pretty tired,” Declan said before she could get any ideas. “Here, I took some photos of the cottage.” He handed her his phone and began to unbutton his shirt.
“Looks pretty rundown.” Gail scrolled through the pictures.
She’d never been particularly interested in his career. “If it weren’t,” Declan explained, “I wouldn’t be buying it. See those views over the valley? That’s the money shot right there. You’ll never lose on a place with views like that.”
“And this is Lily and her friends.” Already bored with photos of peeling purple wallpaper and unevenly plastered ceilings, Gail was scrolling further through the gallery. “Seems like a nice place, wherever it is.”
“We had dinner in the garden of the local pub, the Star Inn.”
“They all look great too.” Eager to make up for her bad mood earlier, she was now being extra magnanimous. “So that’s the woman who adopted her, yes? Carol?”
“Coral.”
“Right. And the brunette?”
“That’s Patsy. She’s a hairdresser. She used to babysit when Lily was small, and they’ve been close ever since.”
“And this one?” Gail pointed to Dan. “Is he Lily’s boyfriend?”
“No, they’re just friends. He’s Patsy’s younger brother.”
“He’s very good-looking.”
“And knows it.” Declan climbed into bed. “He’s an airline pilot.”
“Oh damn, hairdresser.” Raising her palms in despair, Gail said, “I completely forgot. I’ve got an appointment at Fenn Lomax next Saturday afternoon.”
“Well, you can always call them and cancel,” Declan said. “Patsy has her own salon in Stanton Langley. I’m sure she could fit you in while we’re down there.”
Gail threw back her head and barked with laughter. “You mean I should cancel my appointment with Fenn Lomax and let some village hairdresser loose on my hair instead? Oh, darling…ha-ha-ha, this is why I love you so much!”
Chapter 24
Lily couldn’t stop gazing out through the tinted window of the limousine. Leicester Square was packed, ablaze with lights, and buzzing with anticipation. The red carpet stretched ahead of them like a river, cordoned off from the fans squashed up against the metal barriers. There were TV cameras and reporters and security staff with earpieces and walkie-talkies milling about.
“Well?” asked Eddie, who was next to her in the backseat. “What d’you think?”
“It looks just like it does on TV. Look at all the people.”
He smiled. “That’s kind of the point. If there’s a movie premiere but nobody turns up to see the stars arrive, did it ever really happen?”
“I knew it’d be busy,” Lily said, “but I didn’t think it’d be this busy.”
“Ah, well, it helps that it isn’t raining. Are you ready?” he added as the car moved up a few feet toward the head of the line. “We’re next.”
Oh wow, surreal or what? The gleaming-black, chauffeur-driven car had collected them from the hotel just a few streets away, then crawled through the rush-hour traffic to bring them here, despite the fact that it would have been five times quicker to walk.
And now the car was drawing to a halt at the front of the line, and the door was being opened. Lily took a deep breath to quell the butterflies and smoothed down the skirt of her favorite red dress to ensure she wasn’t about to flash her panties to the world.
A dazzle of flashbulbs went off and she blinked, then blinked again as Eddie intertwined his fingers with hers. The photographers were calling out his name, even as a female organizer with a clipboard was shepherding them toward the press pen.
“You wait here with me for a minute,” the organizer murmured, resting her hand on Lily’s forearm. “Let them get their shots of Eddie.”
Eddie had to stand in front of a giant backdrop featuring logos of the movie and various co
mpanies advertising the event. He was wearing a gorgeously cut dark-blue suit and cream shirt, and his hair was slicked back from his tanned face. Lily had never seen him looking so smart and so much like a movie star. Watching him now was making her stomach go a bit squiggly, if she was honest.
After a minute or two, he beckoned for her to join him, and the female organizer moved across to lead her over.
“What’s your name, love?” one of the photographers called out.
Lily shook her head. “It’s OK, I’m no one.”
“Come on, tell us who you are,” another man said.
The organizer gave her a distracted nod. “It’s OK, you can tell them.”
Giving her permission. Imagine that.
“My name’s Patsy,” Lily said, just for fun. And it was fun, because the photographers instantly began calling out, “This way, Patsy!”
“Over here, Patsy!”
“Patsy, give us a smile!”
Out of the corner of her mouth, Lily said to Eddie, “This is the craziest thing.”
His arm was around her waist, his hip brushing against hers. “Enjoying having your photo taken?”
“Oh yes. Although I do know I’m going to end up getting cropped out of ninety-nine percent of them.”
He tilted his head closer to hers and murmured, “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to remember to keep calling you Patsy.”
Lily grinned at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll change it in a minute. Can you hear all those girls over there screaming your name?”
“I can now that you’ve said it. We’ll have to go along the carpet in a minute.”
“Right.” The officious organizer checked her stopwatch and signaled that it was indeed time for them to move on. “All done here.”
The next arrivals were emerging from their limos, ready to take their place in front of the backdrop.
As the slow journey along the red carpet began, the flashes from the professional photographers’ elaborate cameras became interspersed with those from the overexcited fans’ cell phones. Lily hung back while Eddie chatted with those behind the barriers and allowed himself to be photographed with them.
“Will you sign me here?” A big girl in a plunging T-shirt handed him a black marker and patted the area above the low-cut top. She gazed at Eddie adoringly as he scrawled an autograph across her chest. When he’d finished, she said, “I’m going to get that done as a tattoo tomorrow. Oh my God, I just love you so much!”
“I don’t think you should have it tattooed there.” Lily couldn’t help herself; she had to say it. As a signature, it wasn’t even legible, for heaven’s sake.
“Who asked you?” The overweight girl shot her an insolent stare. “I don’t give a damn what you think.”
Eddie had moved on to have a selfie taken with a squealing group. Lily noticed that the overweight girl’s jacket pocket was moving. She pointed. “What have you got in there?”
The girl stiffened. “My mouse. What’s it to you? I can bring my mouse with me if I want.”
Honestly, so defensive. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. What’s his name?”
“Snowball.”
Lily smiled. “I used to have a mouse when I was younger.”
“What was its name?”
“William.”
“That’s a stupid name for a mouse.”
“I know. I don’t know what I was thinking. Can I have a look at Snowball?”
“No.” The girl shook her head, then leaned across the barrier and lowered her voice. “I don’t want people to see him and start screaming. I might get kicked out.”
“Good point.” Lily nodded sympathetically. “I once took William along to our school nativity play and got sent off the stage.”
The girl managed a faint smile. “Are you Eddie’s girlfriend?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Are you an actress?”
“No.” Lily hesitated; Eddie was waiting for her, ready to move on to the next group. “Listen, don’t get his name tattooed on your chest. It’ll be there for the rest of your life.”
The girl’s expression changed. “Oh, don’t start that again. I want it to be there for the rest of my life.”
“But when you have a boyfriend, he might not like seeing someone else’s name on his girlfriend’s chest.”
The girl shrugged. “I’m never going to get a boyfriend anyway. Boys don’t fancy me.”
“Come along, you need to catch up with Eddie.” Steering Lily firmly on, the organizer whispered, “We need to keep going. Thought I’d come rescue you.”
“She wants to have Eddie’s signature tattooed on her chest. I was trying to persuade her not to.”
“Ah, well, not our problem.” The organizer was more concerned with keeping everyone moving to make way for Mira Knowles, the star of the show.
It was hard not to keep turning around and stealing glances at Mira Knowles, although being on the red carpet presumably meant being too cool to do so. In her midthirties, Mira had been acting in movies since childhood and was proper Hollywood royalty. Tonight, with her hair in an intricate dark chignon and wearing a stunning full-length dress covered in tiny iridescent pearls, she radiated ice-queen glamour. Having waved to the fans but not stopped to speak to them, she was now being interviewed by a TV crew.
“And what’s your name?”
“Sorry?” Lily belatedly realized someone was addressing her. “Oh, I’m no one. I’m just here with Eddie.”
The journalist was holding a microphone. “You must have a name, though!”
“I’m Coral. But I’m not his girlfriend,” Lily said.
“And who are you wearing?”
“This? It’s vintage. Dior, I think.” Could she be sued for telling such an outrageous lie? Whoops, and now the girl with him was photographing her. Hurriedly Lily said, “Actually it’s not Dior. It’s Forever 21.”
“Oh dear.” The young journalist snickered. “You really are no one.”
Lily shrugged and said, “I told you.”
“Don’t be so rude.” The photographer rolled her eyes at the journalist. “Nothing wrong with a bit of Forever 21.”
“So, Coral, do you wish you were Eddie’s girlfriend? Bet you do,” said the journalist.
“I don’t,” Lily said. “He snores.”
OK, shouldn’t have said that either. Embarrassed, Lily looked away and found herself glancing over again at Mira Knowles. The next moment, she noticed something tiny and determined making its way at top speed across the red carpet in the direction of—
“Aaarrrgh!” If the shriek was earsplitting, the leap into the air that accompanied it was frankly impressive. Mira Knowles screamed again as she began hopping around in terror. With every hop, the likelihood of her spearing the mouse with a stiletto increased.
And somehow, no one else had spotted the cause of the commotion.
Lily, only about ten feet away, launched herself in some kind of rugby-tackle dive and, with her arms stretched out in front of her, managed to grab the petrified mouse in the nick of time. She snatched it from beneath Mira’s lethal high heels and rolled sideways, clutching Snowball to her chest.
“Urgh! Has it gone? Has it really gone? Oh my God, that was so disgusting!” Mira shuddered with revulsion, then let out another high-pitched scream as one of the security guards hauled Lily to her feet a bit too vigorously, and for a moment she lost her balance, stumbling toward the actress with the mouse clasped in her hands.
OK, that wouldn’t be clever, tipping Snowball headlong into Mira Knowles’s fabulous cleavage. Balance regained, Lily said, “It’s fine. I’ll get him away from you.” She turned, searched the crowds behind the barrier, and saw the girl with Eddie’s autograph scrawled across her chest.
The girl was pale with anguish as Lily handed Snowball ov
er to her, though not before the mouse had peed a little in Lily’s hand. Well, it had been a stressful experience for him, almost getting skewered by a Jimmy Choo.
“He didn’t get hurt. Luckily.” Lily gave Snowball’s tiny head a stroke and shot the girl a meaningful look.
The girl flushed, caught out. “I thought Mira would be fine with him. When she plays characters in movies, she’s always really brave, never scared of anything.”
“You thought she’d pick Snowball up and bring him back to you, and then she’d talk to you about him. Was that the plan?”
“Maybe. Kind of.”
“Another idea that wasn’t so great.” Lily felt sorry for her. “Listen, how about getting the tattooist to trace the signature and put it somewhere else on your body? Would you at least think about it?”
The girl hung her head for a second, then said, “Yeah, OK. I’ll do that.”
“And make sure Snowball doesn’t escape again.”
“He won’t.”
It wasn’t until Lily turned to make her way back to Eddie that she realized how many people were now taking photos of her. Flash-flash-flash went the lights, dazzling her for a moment until Eddie, grinning, reached for her hand.
“You were like the special forces, throwing yourself at Mira’s feet like that. Talk about impressive.”
“I thought she was going to stamp on it and kill it.”
“She nearly did.” His grin broadened. “You’re a real mice-saver.”
“Everyone’s looking at me.” Lily was finding it an unsettling experience, being the object of so many people’s attention. “Now I know what it’s like for you,” she said ruefully.
“D’you want the good news or the bad news?”
“Both.”
“You’re probably going to be on the front pages of the tabloids tomorrow.”
Was that the good or the bad? Lily searched his face for clues. “And?”
