“Have you thought of telling her?”
Geoff raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but my mother isn’t exactly liberal in her attitudes.”
“No, that’s true. But you’re her only son, she’d come around eventually, wouldn’t she?”
“I’m sure she’d still love me but things would be different between us and a bit uncomfortable. There’s no reason to tell her anyway, I’ve stayed so long in the closet with her that any change would be cruel.”
“Well, you know your mum best. Doesn’t she cramp your style though, now that she’s living in the flat below you?”
Geoff laughed. “For a vicar’s wife you have a wicked mind, Penny!”
“Sorry, I’ve probably had too much to drink…” Penny blushed quickly.
“Rubbish, I think you’re marvellous. Here’s a thought, I’ve got two spa day vouchers that a friend gave me ages ago. How do you fancy coming with me?”
“I’d love to! I’ve never been to a spa before, it sounds heavenly. Thank you so much. You know, between you and your mum I’m really being spoilt rotten today!”
They arrived at the vicarage and Penny jumped out of the car and went to the boot to remove the boxes that Ruth had given her. Geoff unlocked the door and helped her, as the boot door went up, drips of water fell onto the sleeve of Penny’s sweater.
“Oh damn.” She brushed the water off quickly. “Typical me, I only have something new for five minutes and it’s already getting dirty.”
“I think it’s OK.” Geoff examined the sleeve. “The water was clean; it’ll dry off in no time. It’s very soft, isn’t it?”
“Another gift from your mum, she must be doing so many competitions I don’t know when she gets the chance to sleep.”
“Very rarely but that’s par for the course with her, she’s always been a light sleeper. Right then, that’s the last box. Thanks again for keeping Mother company today. I’ll be in touch about the spa trip.” Geoff leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, Geoff. See you later.”
Edward was feeling very pleased with himself. He had actually managed to buy Penny a bunch of flowers and get them into the house. Granted they looked a little bit careworn after having been in his bag for the last four hours but he was sure they would perk up if they had long enough in water. He had also made plans to take her out to the pub for dinner; it would mean a lot to her that he’d planned something spontaneously.
He was just finishing dealing with the last of the lunchtime dishes when Geoff’s car pulled up outside. It wasn’t uncommon for the police to turn up unannounced; sometimes, for whatever reason they needed a vicar so he carried on drying up without a sense of urgency.
He saw Penny get out, shortly followed by Geoff. Edward put a plate down and tried to see if she was hurt, had there been a car accident? He relaxed when she started taking boxes out of the car. She would tell him everything over a cup of tea.
Edward picked up the plate he had just dried and absently put it back in the washing bowl. He frowned as Geoff tenderly stroked her arm before leaning in to kiss her. His wife had her back to him so he had no way of seeing her expression. Was she surprised? Had it been one of those awkward accidents? Edward could feel his pulse speeding up as he wrestled with unfamiliar emotions. He saw Geoff pass her a beautiful, and enormous, bouquet of flowers before driving off.
Penny breezed through the doors in a whirl of good humour and joy to the world. She put the boxes on the table and gave Edward a quick kiss on the lips as she reached for the kettle switch.
“Good day?” Edward shook the suds from the plate and began drying it again.
“Oh, the best… Ruth and I had lunch at the garden centre and then a couple of glasses of wine so she asked Geoff to give us a lift home. I’ll have to borrow your bike tomorrow and get the car back.”
“And the boxes?”
“Ruth was having another clear-out so there’s one box for the jumble and one for me.”
“And the flowers?” His heart sank, they were gorgeous, extravagant and he didn’t even know petrol forecourts that did that type of display.
“Oh, um, they’re from Geoff to say thanks for spending time with his mum.”
“How thoughtful.” He stared between Geoff’s flowers and his own that Penny hadn’t noticed. They made his look mean in comparison. While Penny was busying herself with the tea he quickly opened the rubbish bin and chucked his bunch in. “Are you hungry?”
“I couldn’t eat a thing. We had lunch while we were there and the portions were enormous. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat for a week! How was your day?”
Edward felt his stomach rumble, he was ravenous. “It was fine. Geoff seemed very friendly out there?”
There was an edge to his voice, very subtle and Penny missed it completely. “He’s such a sweetie. Do you know, he’s just asked me to go on a spa day with him? Apparently he has vouchers that need using up soon; I can’t wait!”
“Really? So you’ll be spending the day together then?”
“Uh huh, I know you hate that sort of thing so I promise not to bore you with the treatment details when I get back. Right, I’ll take this box upstairs. Have you eaten?”
Edward felt a dark cloud surround him. “Not yet, I was thinking about going out.”
“Good idea, some exercise would do you good. See you later.”
Penny took her box of treasures upstairs and Edward took his bad mood to the pub.
Hilary opened the door of Babs’ Tea Room and was met by a rush of sweet-smelling warm air and the friendly face of Babs herself.
“Come in, come in. The weather’s abysmal outside!” Babs stepped to one side as Hilary manoeuvred Suzie’s pram into the small timber-framed tea room. A fire had been lit at the far end and she made a beeline for the seat closest to the cheerful flames.
“Thank you.” Hilary pulled off her gloves and scarf, looking around at the pretty country pictures on the walls and the bright patterned chairs. “What a lovely room.”
“It is, isn’t it? Sometimes my husband and I use it as our lounge if we don’t fancy watching another repeat on the TV. What can I get you?”
“A cup of Darjeeling, please.” Hilary scanned the menu on the table. “And a slice of your coffee and walnut cake would go nicely, I think.”
“Oh sorry, I don’t have any left, I’m afraid; there was a coach trip earlier and they ate everything but the furniture. I’ve a lemon cake that’s still warm from the oven though, if I can tempt you with that?”
“Lovely, I haven’t had one of those for years!”
“Ah, it’s a secret recipe.” Babs winked conspiratorially. “I’ve won the baking section at the village fair for the last five years running with it. And who’s this little one?” Babs succumbed to the magnetic properties all small babies seem to have on women.
“My grand-daughter, Suzie. Her mother… my daughter… she’s not well at the moment so I’m looking after her.”
“You’ll be Hilary then. I meant to pop by earlier but Luke, my husband, kept saying it was too soon and I should give you time to adjust and settle in. I’m Babs, Laura used to come in for a coffee and a chat sometimes when it was quiet. I was so sorry to hear that things hadn’t gone to plan and…”
Babs had a soft, sincere voice and Hilary could feel weeks of carefully bottled emotion start to unravel.
“…it’s such a shame that she’s missing out on these first few months. I know that when my Tom was born the nurse practically had to use a crowbar to separate me from her on the first night.” She chuckled at the memory. “And Luke was just as bad!”
Hilary gently pulled back Suzie’s blanket, the under-blanket, her top coat and her little hat and picked her up out of the pram. The baby was flushed and sleepy but submitted to being moved without more than a murmur.
“Here she is, such a good natured little thing. Would you like to hold her?” Hilary handed her over purely to stop
Babs from talking. She’d managed to control herself for so long, she was sure she could manage for a bit longer, but as she’d moved away from her friends this was the first face-to-face chat with anyone other than Andy since she’d come down.
Babs’ face lit up and she held her hands out eagerly. “Aaaah, look at your liddle face, whoosa cute little button, hmm? Doesn’t she look like Laura? She’s got the same nose and mouth, not much of Andy in the mix but that’s just as well, no little girl wants to look too much like their daddy. I was always told how I looked like my uncle and that just used to twist me inside! Yes, she’s her mummy’s little girl, all right. I…” Babs looked at Hilary and saw the woman’s face start to crumble.
“I’m so sorry… I’ve got a tissue here somewhere… I’ll be fine in a moment… it’s just… been so very hard recently and…”
Babs put Suzie back in the pram and sat opposite Hilary; she gave her hand a squeeze. “How about I get us both a cup of tea and some cake and you can tell me all about it. I’ll shut the tea room,” she held her hand up to stop Hilary’s objection, “it’s quiet and I’ve no cake but the lemon one left. After we’ve had our share and Luke’s discovered it, there won’t be a crumb to show I did any baking at all today!”
She gave Hilary’s hand a final pat before turning over the open sign on the door and darting into the little kitchen that was just off the restaurant. As she prepared a tray she kept up a stream of conversation, a talent that she’d spent years perfecting.
“My husband has the antiques shop next door, he loves that sort of thing, but me, I’m more into the present when it comes to decorating. There’s only really two things we don’t match up on: decorating and dancing. We go ballroom dancing every Thursday and Luke’s definitely a cha-cha sort of man whereas I’m a waltz kind of girl.” There was the sound of cup meeting saucer. “But we both wanted a shop each and we both love cake, sometimes people make too much out of trying to be the same as each other.”
When she returned to Hilary the tears were gone and embarrassment had crept in.
“Thank you, Babs. Sorry about the wobble.”
“Ah, you wobble away. Sometimes the only way to stay strong is to accept the wobble. Here, have some cake.”
Mark leaned back and admired Tamara’s profile. It didn’t matter that he would lose track of what was happening in the play because he understood that, for his fiancée, the point of seeing the thing was for people to see her seeing it. The press would have been lined up outside to catch them leaving and Tammy had spent three hours perfecting her “casual” look. As usual he would let her get on with the photos and trudge around London trying to find a taxi at peak time. He knew she’d love a waiting limo but he couldn’t see the point.
She really did have amazing cheek bones. The dress she was wearing covered her modesty with the aid of secret tape beneath its surface. No need for a bra as she hadn’t gone for a breast enlargement yet, she was still rocking the androgynous look; apparently that was very marketable right now. He’d been completely blown away when they first met; she was like a light bulb that put every other woman in the shade. Expensive, granted, and high maintenance was nothing on Tammy, but the feeling he got when they walked into a party with her on his arm was priceless. He could recognise the expressions on people’s faces, the men were envious and the women surprised, as if they were fully aware that she was batting well below her average.
He loved her, obviously, surely no one could be as infatuated as him without being wildly in love. Right? It was only late at night when the lights were off and it was just them alone in bed that he longed for, how to put it politely? Someone with a bit more meat on her bones. Seriously, Tamara was so thin she was permanently cold but refused to wear anything that covered up her, admittedly amazing, profile, so bed was the one time she could bung on three duvets and a heated blanket. He was like a sweating pig under there and for all Tammy’s icy majesty, having sex with her was like indulging in a coat hanger fetish.
Mark was staying with her while she was between fashion shows and he was beginning to find cohabitation slightly claustrophobic. For some reason it wasn’t acceptable for him to leave a coat on the back of a chair but it was totally normal for her to take over an entire room for her handbags. Plus there was a whole display cabinet put aside for a collection of dolls with wildly unrealistic body proportions. She said it was one of them that made her want to be a model and she tried to acquire a new one every time she went abroad. Mark thought that not only were they creepy, and he refused to go near them after dark, but thanks to all the Botox Tamara was having, the dolls now had more facial expression than her. He kept that thought to himself.
It was completely different at Pam’s. There were two large floors above the ground level pub; Pam and the kids, Sam and Libby, took up the first-floor, he had a bedroom on the second floor and they all shared the first floor kitchen. Because of the kids there was usually a blizzard of clothes, shoes, books and toys scattered around, which somehow he found himself tidying while Pam was finishing up with the evening shift.
While not qualified at DIY it was amazing how many people needed small jobs doing for them like shelving or replacing hinges because they didn’t have the tools or time. Mark was still applying for jobs in the City but with less enthusiasm, the odd jobs he did paid surprisingly well and if it wasn’t for Tamara’s over-the-top wedding plans he’d probably be able to start saving again.
He pulled out his phone and sent Pam a quick message asking if anyone had called for him and left messages. She sent one back telling him she wasn’t his bloody secretary and it wasn’t her problem if no one cared enough to call him. He said she was fired. She said he could make his own morning tea in future.
Tamara prodded his knee, a clear warning sign that it was time to pay attention; Mark reluctantly put the phone away. Shame, he enjoyed teasing Pam.
The curtain closed and the audience rose to their feet to give the actors a standing ovation. He saw that the man next to him had fallen asleep so quickly gave him a nudge before his wife realised. The man mouthed a silent thank you and stood up.
Having eaten sparingly for dinner, a regular problem when staying with Tammy, Mark was feeling peckish. He was missing Guy Fawkes night for this play and the thought of toasted marshmallows and jacket potatoes dripping with butter was making his mouth water.
“Do you fancy grabbing a spring roll in China Town?” Mark asked as they collected their coats.
“But it’s after ten o’clock!” She very nearly raised an eyebrow.
“So? The restaurants will be open for hours and neither of us has to get up early tomorrow. Go on, we could have a nibble and a cocktail, we haven’t had a date night in ages.”
“I can’t eat after six, Mark. That’s just insensitive, I’m sure I’ve told you that before, you’re more likely to put on weight if you eat late. I can’t go to the gym because I can’t risk being seen sweaty; it’s alright for you, you’ve obviously been working out more.” Tamara cuddled up to him. “I do like these new muscles you’ve been working on, very impressive.”
Mark glowed with pride. He couldn’t tell her that his new physique had nothing to do with gyms and everything to do with lifting barrels and crates of beer. If he wasn’t feeling so hungry his evening could have been marked down as a success.
Taking a trip to see an early Christmas market in London had been Kate’s idea and James had jumped at the chance to join her. Their friendship was gradually becoming gently entwined with a mild flirtation although both of them were skirting on the edge of overt romance.
They hadn’t discussed the five years apart in any great detail and James knew better than to push her. He’d spotted a faded scar on one of her arms once before she pulled her sleeve down and noticed the way she shrank away if someone accidently brushed against her. At some point he would ask her what happened but not yet, for now there was the two of them enjoying each other’s company. That would be enough; for now.
The rescued dog, now named Ruffles, was walking with hardly a limp and stuck closely to Kate’s ankles. Occasionally he’d pull at the lead to grab dropped morsels from under the stalls or to dart to James’ side to show joint allegiance. He was wearing a warm checked coat and his tail wagged to a slow beat.
Slightly flushed from a particularly strong glass of mulled wine Kate slipped her arm into James’ and headed towards a jewellery stall. James tried to appear casual but he was achingly aware that his arm was tingling with her closeness.
The stall was artfully arranged against a black velvet backdrop so that the items on display seemed to twinkle more brightly than the stars above them. Kate picked up a pair of crystal earrings and their light was reflected in her eyes. James was mesmerised.
“They’re lovely.” Kate held one up to her ear in a mirror.
“You should get them.”
“I can’t really justify it so close to Christmas.” She reluctantly laid it back onto the black velvet.
“How about I get them for you then? It could be my Christmas present to you, I haven’t actually been shopping yet and this way I know you’d be getting something you like,” James lied easily, instantly dismissing the jumper he’d already picked up for her and correctly identifying it as being unbelievably dull.
Love, Lies and Lemon Cake Page 7
