by Jill Mansell
Because Don might as well be holding up a banner, his face was such a complete giveaway.
Although as a rule, her aunt was the least giddy person on the planet.
‘I love Nettie,’ he said simply. ‘And she loves me.’
‘Am I dreaming?’
‘Wait.’ Crossing the shop, Don locked the door and put up the CLOSED sign. He twisted his manicured hands together and took a deep breath. ‘I fell in love with her at first sight. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I’m so happy I could burst. Every time I think of her it just feels like Christmas Day!’
Could she say it? ‘OK . . . I mean, no offence,’ Lara stammered, ‘but the two of you are so . . . different.’
‘I know! Isn’t it crazy? But it feels so right. She’s just the most amazing woman. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted.’ He shook his head in wonderment. ‘And all this time I never knew. All these years I thought I should be going for a woman who was just like me . . . fussy, takes care of herself, elegant and well-groomed.’
‘Like Wilhelmina,’ said Lara.
‘Exactly. When all along I needed the exact opposite. No wonder it never felt right before.’
Now that he was explaining it to her, everything was beginning to fall into place. With her complete lack of vanity, her can-do attitude and blunt no-nonsense manner, Nettie was the absolute antithesis of all the Wilhelminas Don had ever known. As a slightly effeminate but heterosexual man, it made a bizarre kind of sense that he should be drawn to a heterosexual but somewhat masculine female.
And, of course, vice versa.
‘We always thought there might be something going on between her and Fred Milton.’
‘I know, she told me you did. She thought that was hilarious.’ Don smiled fondly at the memory. ‘But no, he’s not her type at all.’ Glowing with pride, as if he could still hardly believe it himself, he added, ‘Because guess what? Her type is me!’
Lara made them both a cup of tea. At this time on a Tuesday morning no customers were hammering on the locked door demanding to be let in.
‘Did you like Keswick then?’
‘Loved it. Stunning place.’ Don blew on his tea, took a sip, then said bashfully, ‘Mind you, anywhere would be good that had Nettie in it.’
He was like a teenager in the grip of a thrilling new crush. It was so sweet. Apart from one major drawback . . .
‘So you’ll take it in turns visiting each other, will you?’ Lara secretly wondered how that would work out; having found driving too stressful to handle, Don had sold his car months ago. And if pootling around Bath reduced him to jelly, heaven knows how he’d cope with five hours on the M5.
‘OK, sit down and listen. I wasn’t planning on telling you this just yet, but I didn’t know it was all going to come out so soon. And no giving me a lecture either.’ His spiky hair quivered like a hedgehog’s as he shook his head. ‘I know what it sounds like, but it’s what we both want.’
‘Go on.’
‘This last week has been the best of my entire life. And it’s been stress-free. I feel twenty years younger,’ said Don, ‘and twenty times happier.’ He exhaled heavily. ‘I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this, but Nettie’s asked me and I’ve said yes. I’m moving up there and we’re going to live together. For the good of my health. And my heart. Because we’ve found each other, me and Nettie, and we can’t bear not to be together, and who knows how long we’ve got left?’
Lara’s mouth was dry. How could she argue with that? On the one hand it was all wonderfully romantic.
On the other hand, it rather sounded as if she was about to be out of a job.
She hugged Don. ‘It’s fantastic news. I’m so happy for you. And you’re three years younger than Nettie, so that makes you her toyboy, which is extra cool!’
‘I know.’ He beamed.
‘So it all started on that Sunday when you came over to lunch. If I hadn’t invited you, the two of you would never have met.’ Yay, that gave her such a feeling of power. Realising something else, Lara exclaimed, ‘And then you bonded at your neighbours’ party when you got up and sang all the karaoke together!’
Don hesitated, drank some more tea, then carefully put down his cup. ‘Are you going to be shocked if I tell you we didn’t go to the party?’
‘But you said . . . oh.’ Lara closed her mouth. Wow, they really hadn’t hung about. Hastily changing the subject, she gestured around the shop. ‘So you’ll be putting your house on the market, selling this place . . .’
‘Actually, I’m going to let the house for now. We thought students wouldn’t mind the noise from next door. And I’m not selling the shop,’ he went on, causing her heart to leap into her throat. ‘I was hoping you’d run it and we’d take on someone to help you . . . arggh! Get off me, woman, it’s like being smothered by a Labrador . . .’
‘Sorry!’ Grinning, Lara let him go. ‘Got a bit overexcited there. And relieved. I thought you were going to tell me I was out of a job.’
‘Darling, you’re joking. You have to keep the business going, bring in the money.’ He spread his arms and burst joyfully into Abba-style song: ‘Money Money Money!’
Were there two people with more wildly differing tastes in music? But he was so happy. Lara said, ‘When will you be leaving?’
‘Soon!’
‘Oh God, I’m going to miss you so much. But we’ll still see you.’ She wiped away a soppy tear. ‘This is so brilliant.’
‘Isn’t it just? And Nettie won’t let me eat rubbish, you know. She’s the most amazing cook. You won’t believe all the healthy food I’ve had this week.’
‘Actually I would,’ said Lara.
‘I feel better already. My blood pressure’s down. And guess what?’ Don patted his stomach with pride. ‘I’ve lost four pounds!’
It had been another blissful evening at Ray and Bonnie’s house, complete with fish pie and sticky toffee pudding. Leaving them in the living room arguing over which TV programme to watch, Evie was filling the dishwasher when she heard Joel coming into the kitchen.
Her heart quickened; it was definitely him. The sound of his footsteps on the flagstoned floor was unmistakable. Then she jumped as his hands came to rest on her waist.
‘Careful,’ Joel murmured, ‘you almost dropped that cup.’
‘And if I did, I suppose it would be my fault. Pass me those bowls, would you?’
‘Yes, ma’am. Anything you say.’ But as he gave them to her he managed to brush against her hip, by no means accidentally. As the weeks had passed, so the levels of flirtation between them had increased. But this time she was the one setting the pace. Evie had discovered the thrill of being in control and it was a heady experience.
‘Listen to that.’ She grimaced as the downpour outside reached the next level; freezing rain had turned to hail and was now rattling against the windows.
‘Hey, no problem. I can drop you home.’
They pulled into Arlington Road twenty minutes later. In the darkness, with the engine still running, Joel turned and idly lifted a stray strand of hair away from her face. ‘OK, can I just say something? This is killing me.’
‘What’s killing you?’ As if she didn’t know.
‘Being here, with you. The two of us together. Not being allowed to do what I want to do . . .’
This, this was the moment to open the passenger door and jump out of the car. Nature, intervening, produced another torrent of hail so ferocious it bounced off the bonnet like gunfire. The noise was deafening.
‘Evie. How many more times do I have to tell you I’m sorry?’ His voice was low and genuinely regretful. It was also playing havoc with her hormones. Without meaning to, she gave a shuddery sigh.
‘A hundred? A thousand? Because that’s fine,’ Joel went on. ‘Just say the word and I’ll do it. As many times as you like.’
Evie shook her head, glad he couldn’t read her mind. He was still stroking her neck and it had been ages since anyone
had done that. Basically, physical contact of any kind had been pretty thin on the ground for the past few months. And she was only human . . .
‘Your hair smells fantastic, by the way.’
‘It’s Head and Shoulders,’ said Evie.
Joel laughed. ‘And that’s why I love you.’
She didn’t reply. All around them, the hail continued to hammer down.
‘Look,’ Joel said finally, ‘it’s only ten o’clock, not even late. Come back to mine for a coffee and a chat. Give it an hour and all this will have stopped. I’ll drive you home then.’
There was direct access from his garage into his flat. It was a definite plus point.
Having hesitated, Evie heard herself say, ‘OK, that sounds sensible.’
Well, her hair did get dreadfully frizzy when it was wet.
It was almost midnight and Joel had been right; the torrential rain and hail had fizzled out, leaving only an eerie stillness and wet roads. Not that she could see it from here but when a car drove past you could hear the liquid swoosh of tyres on tarmac.
A voice in her ear murmured, ‘Falling asleep?’
Evie opened her eyes. ‘Nearly.’
‘Lightweight.’ He ran his fingers playfully over her ribcage, his bare legs nudging hers beneath the rumpled duvet.
‘Hey, I’m out of practice. It’s been a while.’
Joel began dropping kisses along the curve of her collarbone. ‘Tell me about it.’
‘Oh, come on, don’t even say that. You’ve slept with other girls since we broke up.’
He raised his head, his blond hair falling into his eyes as he regarded her intently. ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? No reason not to. But I haven’t.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Evie.
‘I suppose there’s no reason why you should. But it’s the truth. I’ve learned my lesson,’ Joel said simply. ‘I only wanted you, no one else.’
She shook her head. ‘Still don’t believe you.’
‘I know you don’t. So why else would I say it if it wasn’t true?’
Did that make sense? Kind of. Evie checked her watch and said, ‘It’s late. I need to get home.’
‘You don’t have to leave.’
‘I do.’
‘Stay.’ Joel touched her face. ‘Please.’
She could feel herself weakening. It was cold outside. Here in his bed it was deliciously warm. She’d missed physical contact as much as she’d missed sex itself. And when Joel was being this irresistible, it was hard to say no.
‘Can you get me my bag? It’s in the living room.’
He jumped out of bed, returning seconds later with her handbag. Evie checked her emergency toothbrush was in there, then took out her phone and called Lara’s number.
‘Hi, it’s me. Just to let you know I’m staying over at Ray and Bonnie’s tonight. Early start at work tomorrow . . .’
Thirty seconds later she hung up. There, done. Lara had taken the excuse at face value and the white lie had made saying it all the more exciting. For once she was the one being a little bit naughty, doing what was fun rather than what was right.
‘You just told a fib,’ Joel playfully admonished.
‘She’d have nagged me if I hadn’t. Actually, I told two,’ said Evie. ‘I don’t have an early start tomorrow.’
‘Very glad to hear it.’ He broke into a slow, complicit smile and pulled her closer. ‘Because I’m telling you now, you’re going to have a very late night tonight.’
Joel dropped her around the corner from his parents’ house on his way to work the next morning. More subterfuge, but Bonnie would be uncontrollable if she knew what had happened.
‘Come here.’ He kissed her once, twice, then once more for luck. ‘I love you. Can I see you tonight?’
Evie shook her head. ‘We’ve got the Massinghams’ party, remember? The one your mum was talking about, with the dance troupe and the conjurors. I won’t be able to get away before eleven.’
‘Damn. How about after that?’
He looked so crestfallen, her heart melted. ‘Listen, we’ve had two hours’ sleep. Three at most. We’re both going to be shattered by this evening. Let’s leave it for tonight.’
Joel pulled a sad face. ‘OK. How about tomorrow then?’
Evie nodded, distracted by a bus trundling past; a bunch of schoolboys were mooning through the windows. That’s what happened when you drank cans of Red Bull before school.
‘Hello?’ Joel waved his hands in front of her face. ‘Tomorrow?’
‘Hmm? Oh, sorry.’ Her brain was fizzing, in a state of confusion. Having sex again had been lovely; after all these months, of course it had. But she needed to sort out how she truly felt about the person she’d just had the lovely sex with. Evie gave herself a mental shake. ‘Yes, tomorrow. I’ll give you a call.’
The party was being held at the Massinghams’ sprawling country pile ten miles outside Bath, to celebrate their daughter’s birthday.
If there was a more spoiled seventeen-year-old within a hundred-mile radius, Evie really didn’t want to meet her. She was quite wishing she hadn’t had to meet this one. Foxie Massingham, stroppy, charmless and accustomed to having her every whim catered for, had already thrown tantrums about her hair, false eyelashes, the caterers, the conjurors and her boyfriend’s outfit. And the party hadn’t even started yet.
‘Marvin’s wearing a green suit,’ she ranted at her mother. ‘He looks like a dork. Mummy, make him go home and change into something less embarrassing.’
Which was ironic, seeing as Foxie was wearing fluorescent yellow micro shorts, silver thigh-high boots and a silver-fringed bikini top complete with sewn-on fairy lights that flashed on and off.
‘Oh, baby, he can’t do that, it’s too late now.’ Foxie’s devoted mother said apologetically to Marvin, ‘Don’t worry, she’ll calm down. You know how highly strung she is.’
‘Not strung highly enough if you ask me,’ muttered Marvin as he passed Evie in the doorway where she was pinning up more fairy lights.
Oh dear, he wasn’t looking happy at all.
An hour later Foxie deemed it time to open her presents.
Her mum wrung her hands. ‘But I thought we were going to do it during the party, baby. That was the plan.’
‘I don’t want to wait. I need to know what I’ve got. Daddy, bring them through now.’
Evie, watching from the other end of the room, saw Foxie accept as her due a diamond pendant, practically an entire shopful of designer clothes, three pairs of Louboutins, and – oh yes, of course – the keys to a brand new Volkswagen Golf.
Then Marvin gave her a small, nicely wrapped box and she opened it, her face falling as she unfolded the tissue paper and lifted out the bracelet inside.
‘Is it real gold?’ Foxie’s lip curled as she scrutinised it.
‘Well, no . . .’
‘Is it real anything? I mean, these stones.’ She prodded at them with a turquoise acrylic nail. ‘What are they meant to be?’
‘So you don’t like it,’ Marvin said evenly.
‘I thought you were going to get me something nice.’
‘It was all the money I had. I’m a carpenter,’ said Marvin, ‘not a millionaire. I told you I couldn’t afford much and you said it didn’t matter.’
‘I didn’t mean it though!’ Foxie’s voice rose. ‘Jeez! I thought you’d get me something better than this.’
Evie winced at the expression on Marvin’s face. Even Foxie’s adoring parents were looking embarrassed.
‘Fine,’ Marvin said eventually. He took a step back, shook his head, then turned and walked away. ‘Have a great night.’
‘Wait! Where are you going?’
‘Home.’
‘No you’re not! You come back,’ shrieked Foxie.
‘Find yourself a Premiership footballer. You’ll be happier. He might not be,’ Marvin added not quite under his breath.
Evie flattened herself against the wall as F
oxie raced after him. There was a brief undignified tussle in the doorway, during which Foxie bellowed, ‘But you can’t go, it’s my party!’
‘I am going. I’ve had enough.’ Marvin’s voice was flat with resignation. ‘You’ve changed, you never used to be like this.’ He peeled her fingers off his arms. ‘OK, I’m out of here. For good.’
And he left, precipitating the most almighty meltdown from his erstwhile girlfriend. It was six o’clock and the guests were due to start arriving in an hour. Foxie, evidently never having got her comeuppance before, screamed and sobbed at her parents while Evie and the rest of the hired help looked on. Marvin had gone and he’d switched his phone off. Foxie howled, ‘Right, that’s it, the party’s cancelled.’
‘Oh, Flora, no, don’t say that,’ her father protested.
‘I just did say it. And for fuck’s sake stop calling me Flora! We’re not having a party and it’s going to be ALL MARVIN’S FAULT.’ As she yelled the words Foxie rubbed her hands over her face, deliberately smudging her make-up in all directions until she looked like a deranged clown. Then she started yanking at her elaborately arranged hair, ripping out the blond extensions. Snatching up the bracelet Marvin had given her, she bent it in half until it snapped then flung the pieces wildly across the room.
‘Baby, come on now, calm down.’ Her mother made a tentative approach, shrinking back as Foxie turned on her.
