Jill Mansell Boxed Set

by Jill Mansell

  A fair-sized group of tourists had by this time gathered around the stall. Easily entertained, they laughed and clapped. As she smiled and curtsied, acknowledging their appreciation, Hester wondered why Danielle was doing that thing with her eyebrows. For heaven’s sake, it was like two caterpillars wiggling across her forehead, she was making herself look completely stupid—

  ‘Hello, Hester.’

  Hester, her sugar-moustached mouth dropping open, swung round. Not looking stupid at all, she stared gormlessly at Nat.

  ‘Nat?’

  Was it really him?

  ‘And there I was, thinking you’d be pining away in a corner,’ Nat told her, ‘because you missed me so much.’

  ‘Wh-what are you doing here?’ stammered Hester.

  ‘I’m back.’ Nat was watching her carefully. ‘The question is, is that good news as far as you’re concerned? Or not?’

  It was really odd, not knowing. As she struggled to get her act back together, Hester brushed a shower of sugar granules from her mouth.

  Finally, she said, ‘That all depends. If you’re here to tell me you’ve just got married to Anastasia, it’s not good news at all.’

  Chapter 40

  Like a trooper, Danielle volunteered to look after the stall for the rest of the afternoon. In a daze, Hester allowed Nat to lead her outside. When he took her to one of the crowded pavement cafés on Cassell Street, she wondered if he’d chosen it because he thought dumping her in public would be safer, that she’d be less likely to wail like a banshee and cause an embarrassing scene.

  Ha, as if embarrassing scenes weren’t her specialty.

  ‘Right,’ said Nat, when their drinks had arrived. ‘We need to talk.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to do for the last few weeks. But you’ve been doing your best to avoid me.’ Hester didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it was hard to be chirpy when your knees were clacking away like castanets under the table. It wasn’t helping, either, that Nat was looking so serious.

  It’s three months since I last saw him, Hester realized with a stab of longing. He’s had his hair cut shorter than ever, he’s wearing a yellow shirt I’ve never seen before, there’s even a new scar on the back of his hand… all these things happened while he was up in Glasgow and I was down here panting after Lucas.

  Don’t think about Lucas.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Nat said finally.

  Oh God.

  ‘About what?’ Hester clamped her clattering knees together. ‘Sorry it’s all over between us? Sorry you’ve found someone else?

  Sorry you were never there when I phoned because you were too busy shagging Anastasia?’

  Nat didn’t flinch.

  ‘It’s not like that. I was never involved with Anastasia. Not in the way you mean.’ He waited. ‘But I’m sorry I made you think I was.’

  Hester’s hands were shaking. She didn’t dare pick up her drink because she knew she’d only spill it down her front.

  ‘So what are you doing here now?’

  ‘I told you. I’ve come home. For good,’ said Nat.

  For good?

  ‘Why?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘Why not?’

  Stunned, Hester gasped, ‘Did they sack you?’

  ‘No. I handed in my notice.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I missed you.’ Nat sounded calm but she sensed he wasn’t. ‘And me being up there wasn’t doing either of us any favors. But of course the rest is up to you,’ he went on slowly. ‘You might not want me back. I saw the chap who drove you home the morning after that party, remember? For all I know, you two could still be seeing each other.’

  ‘Me and Con Deveraux? Are you serious? I told you,’ wailed Hester. ‘He gave me a lift. Nothing happened between us, that’s the God’s honest truth. How can I make you believe me?’

  ‘I believe you.’ Nat nodded to show he meant it.

  ‘And now you have to tell me about Anastasia,’ Hester blurted out. Oh help, this was like instructing the dentist to rip out all your wisdom teeth without anaesthetic. Did she really want to be doing this?

  ‘Annie’s a TV producer,’ said Nat.

  Jealousy rose up in Hester like a wave. Oh brilliant, so not the least bit glamorous then. Just your humdrum, ordinary, everyday TV producer. Fine, fine.

  Swallowing, she croaked, ‘Go on.’

  ‘Her company’s been filming one of those fly-on-the-wall documentaries in the restaurant.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that be a fly-in-the-soup documentary?’ Hester couldn’t help it; when she was nervous she had a habit of saying stupid things.

  ‘Anyway.’ Nat ignored her feeble stab at humor. ‘They began filming three weeks ago. Jacques was in his element, throwing tantrums, playing to the camera, chucking saucepans at the junior staff and making them cry… well, you know what he’s like.’

  Hester nodded. She’d never met the famously temperamental Michelin-starred chef, but she’d heard about him from Nat. Jacques made Gordon Ramsay look like Terry Gilliam in a wimple.

  ‘The rest of us let Jacques get on with it. He was the star of the show, after all. I just kept my mouth shut and stayed in the background. Anastasia was too scared of getting her head bitten off to ask Jacques any questions. So every time she needed to find out something or have some tricky technique demonstrated, she came to me. And after a while she started telling me I was such a natural in front of the camera, she could see me with my own TV show.’

  Ha! Hester bristled. I’ll bet she could! And did she by any chance happen to have her lithe body pressed against yours and her hand plunged meaningfully down the front of your trousers at the time?

  Desperate not to picture the scene—at least, not in any more shudder-making detail than she was already doing—Hester said accusingly, ‘You never mentioned any of this to me.’

  ‘It all happened after Orla Hart’s party. I needed time to think things through.’ Nat gave her a pointed look. ‘Annie was getting keener and keener on the idea, pressing me for a decision, and I needed to think about that too. It would mean moving down to London. Throwing myself into the whole media scene, doing endless PR to sell the program. I didn’t tell you,’ he went on, ‘because I didn’t want it to be a factor in how you felt about me.’

  Thanks a lot, Hester thought indignantly, but a small, shameful corner of her knew he’d been right not to. Cringing inwardly like a slug showered in salt, she reminded herself that the reason she’d been so enraptured by Lucas in the first place had been the fact that he was a DJ with his very own show on ritzy, racy Radio Cornwall.

  Worse still, Nat knew this. Oh God, she was as bad as those girls whose ambition in life was to sleep with a premier-league footballer. No wonder he didn’t trust her an inch.

  ‘Okay,’ Hester whispered. ‘So what happens next?’

  He was back for a few days, at a guess. Then off to London to begin his glitzy new life as a celebrity chef.

  Nat’s gaze was unwavering.

  ‘I decided against it.’

  ‘What! Why?’ Hester’s head jerked up in astonishment.

  ‘I want to cook, not show other people how to cook. I’m a chef. Slaving away in a kitchen is what I do. It’s what I love doing. As for all that “it’s-not-what-you-know, it’s-who-you-know” business and being seen out at all the right parties… well, that’s just not me.’

  Hester pictured Nat on TV. There was a lump the size of a kiwi fruit in her throat.

  ‘Well, I’m glad you’re not going. But you could have done it, you know. You’d be great on TV.’

  She meant it. He would have been fantastic. Nat had an easy way about him that inspired confidence. He possessed massive enthusiasm for his subject, endless patience, and wonderful flashes of humor that made you feel as if the sun had just come out. Remembering the time he’d spent an entire afternoon teaching her how to make faultless mayonnaise—they’d ended up using seventeen eggs—tears sprang unexpectedly into Heste
r’s eyes.

  If you rolled Jamie Oliver and Delia Smith together—into a mille-feuille, perhaps—you’d get Nat.

  ‘Well, thanks. But I decided against it.’ Nat smiled briefly. ‘And as it turned out, I made the right choice. I hadn’t realized there was a hidden agenda.’

  ‘Oh.’ Hester guessed at once. ‘You mean Anastasia…?’

  ‘Had a massive crush on me. I was completely in the dark about it.’ Bemused, Nat ruffled his short spiky hair. ‘I hadn’t a clue what was going on. Until she tried to get me into bed and I turned her down.’ He raised his expressive eyebrows in despair. ‘She ended up going completely mental.’

  This was absolutely typical of Nat. He had no idea how attractive he was to the opposite sex. If a woman stood in front of him and peeled off all her clothes, Hester thought, he’d simply assume she must be feeling a bit hot.

  ‘What kind of mental?’

  ‘Furious. Jesus, more than furious. She couldn’t believe I wasn’t interested. God, she even accused me of leading her on.’ Nat hunched his broad, rugby-player’s shoulders in disbelief. ‘And she told me I was an ungrateful little shit. She said I could forget about moving down to London, she’d find someone else to launch into the big-time. Launch,’ he repeated, shaking his head. ‘Like a ship. Can you credit it?’

  ‘Plenty more chefs in the sea,’ said Hester.

  ‘So anyway, that was that. I handed in my notice and now here I am.’

  Idiotically, Hester said, ‘And now here you are.’

  God, sparkling conversationalist or what? Look out, Jonathan Ross.

  ‘My sister’s offered to put me up until I find a place of my own. And finding another job—any old job—shouldn’t be a problem.’

  ‘Right, well, no, you’re absolutely right,’ gabbled Hester, ‘it shouldn’t. I mean, a man with your talents.’

  ‘So the only other thing that needs sorting out is… us.’

  Hester’s heart began to flap like a panicky pigeon. Oo-er, this is it, make-or-break time.

  ‘I know I put pressure on you when I took the job in Glasgow. Things haven’t been easy,’ said Nat. ‘For either of us.’

  Blimey, you can say that again.

  ‘Um, well… you know.’

  ‘Look, if you’ve found someone else, I’ll understand. But if you haven’t and you think we still have a chance… well, it’s up to you. Your decision.’

  Was this a joke? He’d jacked in his stinking rotten job in Scotland and come back to Newquay—which was, basically, the answer to all her prayers—and now he was asking her if she still wanted him?

  Stumbling to her feet, cracking her knees painfully against the edge of the table, Hester let out a wail of pain. ‘You complete idiot,’’ she bellowed, ‘how can you even think I wouldn’t want you? I loved you when you went away and I’ve never stopped loving you, not for a single moment! I thought you didn’t want me any more and you can’t even begin to imagine how completely miserable I’ve been!’

  Red-faced, wild-eyed, and ranting on like… well, probably like Anastasia, Hester realized belatedly that her arms were windmilling with abandon and she was yelling at the top of her voice. Everyone else in the café was by this time paying rapt attention.

  And Nat hated scenes.

  Oh bugger it, what the hell.

  Launching herself across the table, Hester kissed and kissed him until she couldn’t breathe any more.

  Finally, light-headed with joy, she mumbled, ‘I’ve never loved anyone else in my life. Only you, I promise. Why would I even want anyone else when I’ve got you?’

  Nat smiled, visibly relieved.

  ‘I’m so glad you said that. You wouldn’t believe how scared I’ve been. I had visions of arriving down here and finding you shacked up with some new bloke.’

  More tears threatened, pricking the backs of her eyes, but Hester refused point blank to cry. She was too happy for all that nonsense.

  ‘No new bloke. Just the same old gorgeous one.’ Ecstatically, she plastered his mouth with butterfly kisses. ‘And you have no idea how glad I am to have you back!’

  Chapter 41

  Lucas was busy on the phone when Millie pushed open the door to his office.

  ‘Right, that’s fine, all booked for Friday evening.’ Glancing up, he winked at Millie as he scribbled the relevant details in the diary. ‘Eight o’clock at the King George pub—don’t worry, I know where that is. I’ll be there at eight on the dot.’ Listening to the voice at the other end of the line, he grinned broadly. ‘Sweetheart, of course you won’t be disappointed. When you book me, I can promise you,’ he lowered his voice to a sexy purr, ‘satisfaction is very much guaranteed.’

  Millie didn’t know where to look. She was having more and more trouble these days keeping a straight face in front of Lucas. Every time she saw him, all she could do was picture him naked in bed, being comically incompetent. And every time she conjured up the picture, she was forced to bite her lip so hard it hurt, in a desperate attempt to stave off a full-blown fit of the girly-giggles.

  She hadn’t been able to mention Hester to him, hadn’t dared. If Lucas knew she knew about their one-night stand, he wouldn’t be able to resist boasting about it and Millie knew this would be her undoing. If that were to happen, she definitely wouldn’t be able to stop herself laughing out loud.

  She still found it utterly astounding that someone who looked so good, acted so cool, and stripped so brilliantly (no one else was able to grind their hips like Lucas) could turn out to be so abysmal in bed.

  No, mustn’t think about that now, blank it out, get a grip, you are not not going to start sniggering like—

  ‘Okay, see you there, bye.’ Hanging up, Lucas swiveled his chair around and let out a low whistle. ‘Hen night, Friday. Those girls are so up for it, I’m telling you. Outrageous. What can you do with them?’

  Phew, I don’t know, thought Millie. Have mind-bogglingly bad sex with them in about thirty seconds flat, probably. And jolly well serve them right.

  Shrugging, composing her face with care, she said, ‘Why did you want to see me?’

  Lucas winked and reached across the desk for his car keys.

  ‘I’ve got something special to show you.’

  Aaagh, not the something special you keep in your trousers, I hope!

  ‘Really?’ said Millie. ‘What?’

  ‘It’s a surprise.’ Jumping up, Lucas led the way to the door. ‘Come on, off we go.’ Raising a playful eyebrow, he added, ‘I think you’re going to like this.’

  Millie heroically stifled the urge to giggle. So, definitely not sex.

  ‘Oh brilliant!’ she exclaimed ten minutes later when Lucas pulled up outside the Pear Tree restaurant overlooking Watergate Bay. ‘This is the story of my life. I’m such a brilliant employee you’ve decided the least you can do is bring me out here and treat me to a fabulous four-course lunch. Lucas, couldn’t you at least have rung them first to check they were still open for business? This place closed down weeks ago!’

  He laughed.

  ‘Oh dear, you don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?’

  Certainly not in the bedroom department, thought Millie.

  Damn, she wasn’t supposed to be thinking along these lines at all. Change the subject, quick.

  ‘So you knew the restaurant was shut but you still brought me here,’ she gabbled. ‘That’s an even meaner thing to do. Can’t you hear my stomach rumbling? You’re a sadist, Lucas Kemp. It’s like promising to take a dog for a run on the beach then locking it in the car and only letting it look at the beach through the window.’

  ‘Come on now, don’t be so hard on yourself.’ Lucas patted her arm. ‘You’re not a dog, and I’m not going to leave you locked up in the car. See?’ Leaning across, he flicked open the passenger door. ‘You’re allowed out.’

  Humoring him, Millie did as she was told. Well, it was hot in the car and there was always the chance he might bring her a bowl of water and a c
ouple of dog biscuits.

  ‘What’s more,’ Lucas went on, pulling a set of keys from his shirt pocket, ‘you’re also allowed in.’

  ‘Why?’ Millie demanded as he unlocked the door of the restaurant. ‘Why would they give you the keys? Good grief, don’t tell me you’re thinking of buying this place!’

  ‘Actually,’ Lucas was looking pleased with himself, ‘I’ve already bought it.’

  The dining area was spacious and—not to put too fine a point on it—completely hideous. Ruffles and flounces abounded. The room had been Laura Ashleyed to within an inch of its life.

  Dismayed, Millie said, ‘My mother bought me a dress exactly like this when I was fourteen.’

  ‘The decorators move in tomorrow.’ Lucas laughed at the look of horror on her face. ‘By the time they’ve finished, you won’t recognize the place.’

  Hmm.

  ‘I don’t get it. What brought this on?’

  ‘It’s a fantastic location. I got it for a good price. The last owner wasn’t a businessman, that’s why he went bust. But I’m a great businessman and I know I can make it work. Plus,’ Lucas added with a crooked smile, ‘it’s always been my dream. To own and run a top-class restaurant.’

  Millie was stunned. He could do it, too. Charming the birds from the trees was Lucas’s forte. Having him run front-of-house operations would pull in the punters like nobody’s business.

  So long as he didn’t sleep with too many of them, of course.

  ‘But what about the kissograms?’

  Solemnly, Lucas said, ‘Can’t do both. It’s tragic, I know, but I’m afraid the time has come to hang up my leopardskin jockstrap.’

  Quick, delete that mental image!

  The next moment, Millie’s face fell as she realized what he was telling her.

  ‘You’re jacking in the business? But you only set it up three months ago and I thought we were doing pretty well.’

  Bugger. So that was it, she was out of a job—one she really enjoyed. And so too were Eric and Sasha. Although Eric had his day job as a history teacher and only did it to boost his income. Plus, Sasha would doubtless still be working for Lucas here at the restaurant in some capacity or other.