by Jill Mansell
‘Afternoon, Flo. So is this the boyfriend?’ Eunice Allsopp came up behind Zander and attracted his attention by prodding him in the back with the end of her ebony walking stick. ‘Come on then, let’s have a look at you.’
With good grace, Zander waited while Eunice chose the correct spectacles from the selection strung around her neck. Putting them on, she peered suspiciously at his face. ‘Are you wearing mascara, young man?’
‘No.’ Zander’s mouth twitched. ‘No, I’m not.’
‘Hmm.’ Clearly not convinced, Eunice looked over the top of her spectacles at Flo. ‘Is he gay?’
‘He isn’t gay,’ said Flo. ‘He’s my boyfriend.’
‘So? He still could be. One of my husbands was gay. Lovely chap,’ said Eunice. ‘We got on very well together. It has its advantages, too. He didn’t bother me all the time, if you know what I mean.’
‘I do.’ Zander nodded gravely. ‘But I’m still not gay.’
‘Oh look,’ said Flo, before Eunice could launch into a full-blown interrogation, ‘there’s Margot, I promised to introduce you to her. She’s dying to meet you!’
Nairn House always held a huge and impressive summer fair in order to entertain the current residents and hopefully attract future ones. It was advertised widely and all sorts of entertainment was provided throughout the day. Luckily the weather for this year’s fair was perfect, drawing even more visitors than usual. The stalls were busy, the grounds were immaculate, the pink and white striped tea tent was bursting with customers and a ballroom dancing display was proving popular, the visiting troupe currently enthralling their audience with a racy tango.
‘Hello, darling,’ said Margot when Flo and Zander caught up with her at the jewellery stall. ‘And hello you.’ She eyed Zander with interest. ‘If you haven’t already heard the old dears gossiping about you, the general consensus is that you’re quite the dish.’
‘Thank you,’ said Zander, shaking her outstretched hand. ‘So are you.’
Was there anything nicer than observing two people you liked being introduced and instantly getting on well together? Secretly glowing with pride and satisfaction, Flo examined the jewellery laid out on the velvet-covered trestle tables and listened to Zander and Margot chatting easily to each other. She was distracted for a few minutes by one of the residents asking for help with a bracelet clasp. When she turned back to Flo and Zander, she saw them waiting for her.
‘Right, we’re having a competition to see which of us knows you best.’ Margot indicated the table beside her. ‘We’ve each chosen the necklace we think you’d prefer. Now you have to decide.’
‘OK. And which one did you choose?’
Margot shook her head. ‘Come on, I’m not going to tell you that.’
‘So I’m going to end up offending one of you.’
‘You won’t,’ said Zander, ‘because we’re grown-ups.’ He nodded at the necklaces. ‘Go on, choose.’
The one on the left was composed of midnight-blue and silver stones, a double strand that caught the light and swung elegantly from her hand. Flo put it back down and picked up the one on the right, shorter and rounder in shape, made up of clusters of tiny seed pearls interspersed with white glass beads.
‘OK, I love them both. But I love this one more.’
‘Ha!’ Margot clapped her hands. ‘Good!’
‘I chose yours?’
‘No, mine was the blue one. I’m glad you prefer Zander’s.’ Her eyes bright, Margot said, ‘Shows he knows what he’s doing, proves he’s the right man for you. Now, what’s that stall over there? Is it Splat the Rat? Excellent!’
For the next hour they toured the plant, cake and bric-a-brac stalls, and watched small children on the old-fashioned roundabout and older ones throwing themselves around the bouncy castle. A steel band played calypso music, a girl sang Celine Dion songs, a juggler juggled with vegetables, then a street-dance troupe put on a break-dancing display. Zander won a coconut on the coconut shy. They drank rum punch and ate home-made cakes. ‘Whoops,’ said Flo in an undertone as two people, one young and one old, made their way past them.
‘Who’s that?’ Zander murmured.
‘The old one’s Beryl and the embarrassed-looking one is her granddaughter Julia. She’s the one who’s been having that torrid affair with you behind my back.’
‘Ha.’ He smiled at Julia as she glanced across at them. ‘Poor thing, her neck’s gone all blotchy.’
Annie rushed up to them. Her spiky bleached-blond hair was quivering around her head, and she was wearing a leopard-print tank top, tight white jeans, fluorescent pink lipstick and giant hoop earrings that jangled as she spoke.
‘Oh my God, I’ve just seen the fortune-teller! She told me I was going to go on holiday somewhere hot beginning with B and meet the man of my dreams in a nightclub! And where am I off to next week? Only Benidorm! On my life, she’s the real deal!’
‘That’s brilliant,’ said Flo.
‘I know! I can’t wait to get there now – about time I found myself a decent bloke! Have you been to the fortune-teller yet?’
‘Well no, I—’
‘Oh but you must. Seriously, go now while there isn’t a queue. Come on, she’ll tell you everything you need to know!’
Annie practically dragged her over to the tiny yellow and white striped tent, and Flo found herself being unceremoniously bundled inside.
‘I’ll take your handsome young man over to the tea tent and get to know him better.’ Annie linked a proprietorial arm through Zander’s and waved goodbye. ‘Come and find us when you’ve finished, if we haven’t run off to Benidorm by then!’
Inside, the walls of the tent were draped with black velvet and the small circular table had been covered with crimson satin. Madam Zara, in her sixties at a guess, was wearing red and black robes, lots of costume jewellery and plenty of black eyeliner.
Actually, rather more on one eye than the other.
‘Now then, my darling, that’ll be ten pounds for a reading,’ she said. ‘You’ve got a lucky feeling about you, I can tell that already.’
Ten pounds to sit in a stuffy, overheated tent and be told a lot of twaddle by someone who was just making it up. Honestly, what a rip-off. But she was trapped now, there was no escape. Flo breathed in the heavy, spicy scent of the woman’s perfume and wished she hadn’t splashed on quite so much of it.
‘Let me see your hand, lovey. Oh I say, you are having a nice time at the moment, aren’t you? Lots of good stuff going on in your life just now.’
‘Mmm.’ Shrugging in a non-committal fashion, Flo wondered how much of this was related to Annie’s mention of Zander being her handsome young man.
‘You’ve got a lovely dog,’ said Madam Zara. ‘A black one.’
‘No I haven’t.’ Flo glanced down at herself to see if one of Jeremy’s dark hairs had attached itself to her top.
‘Ah, so it hasn’t happened yet.’ Zara nodded wisely. ‘You’re going to have a lovely dog. He’ll be such a wonderful companion you’ll wonder how you ever managed without him. And I see a happy partnership ahead of you too. There’s a church and a beautiful wedding. Three bridesmaids.’
‘Oh.’ Flo looked disappointed. ‘Only three?’
‘Three little ones,’ said Zara. ‘And a couple of bigger ones too. All wearing lovely blue dresses.’
‘Any idea where we’ll go for our honeymoon? Will it be Venice?’
‘Oh yes.’ Zara nodded firmly. ‘Definitely Venice. You’ll have one of those trips in a gondola and it’ll be so romantic . . .’
‘And will we have children?’
‘Definitely. Two,’ said Zara. ‘A boy and a girl. I’m not going to tell you their names though, lovey. Don’t want to spoil the surprise.’
‘True,’ said Flo. ‘I’d rather wait until they get here.’
‘You’re all going to be so happy together, that’s in no doubt at all.’ Zara nodded. ‘It’s as clear as day. I quite envy you.’
S
uch a load of old tosh, Flo knew that. But there was no getting away from it, being told this by a fortune-teller – even if she was a complete fraud – was giving her a warm glow in the pit of her stomach.
Because you never knew, it might come true.
But ten pounds didn’t go far these days. Her time was evidently up. Madam Zara said, ‘There you go, my darling, that’s you done. Can you tell the next one to come in on your way out?’
Flo was mortified when, emerging into the daylight, she discovered that rather than going to the tea tent, Annie and Zander had been standing outside shamelessly eavesdropping the whole time.
And, needless to say, finding it absolutely hilarious.
‘Blimey, you didn’t waste much time,’ Annie cackled. ‘You were like Jeremy Paxman in there! Seriously, I had no idea you were going to start interrogating her like that. Especially about the wedding!’ Never one for discretion, she gave Zander a comedy nudge. ‘Ding dong, eh? Looks like I’m going to need to buy myself a fancy hat!’
It was seven in the evening and plenty of people were out on the Downs, sharing picnics, firing up barbecues, playing games or just admiring the view of Clifton Suspension Bridge strung across the Avon Gorge. Below them, the river twisted and turned, a silvery ribbon of water reflecting the still blue sky. Above them, hot air balloons drifted lazily across from Ashton Court, taking advantage of the perfect flying conditions. Dogs leapt up and barked indignantly as the balloons floated overhead, and the gas burners intermittently roared like dragons, startling small children.
‘I’ve never been up in a hot air balloon,’ said Zander.
‘Would you like to?’
‘I would.’
Flo filed away the information for future use. Zander’s birthday was at the end of August. If they were still seeing each other then, a balloon ride would make a great surprise present. That was, if he hadn’t dumped her by then and cut off all contact with the crazy spinster with the one-track mind.
‘Sorry,’ she said, not for the first time since they’d left the summer fair.
Not even for the tenth time, probably.
Zander smiled and shook his head. ‘Will you stop apologising?’
‘It’s still bothering me.’
‘Don’t let it.’
‘I can’t help it. Every time I think about it, I just want to die of shame.’
‘OK, now listen.’ He turned to face her and took her hands in his. ‘I’m glad I heard you asking those questions. You know how it feels when you really like someone but you’re scared to let them know in case they don’t feel the same way?’
Flo gazed up into his steady blue eyes and felt her mouth go dry. She nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, that’s been me. Wanting to say stuff but not wanting to frighten you off.’ He paused. ‘Like, there’s an idea I’ve had that would help us all out, but I don’t want you thinking I’m only suggesting it because it would benefit me. Because that’s not why I thought of it, I swear.’
And that was when she knew, because it was the exact same solution she’d been too afraid to voice, for fear of seeming overkeen.
She nodded, feeling suddenly brave. ‘Lena stays in your flat and you move in with me.’
It wasn’t until Zander exhaled that she realised he’d been holding his breath. ‘That’s the one.’
‘I’ve been wanting to say it too.’
‘Really?’
Oh, those dark eyebrows. ‘Really.’ Braver still, Flo said, ‘I do quite like you, you know.’
‘I was worried you’d think it was too soon.’
‘Same.’ Was it too soon? It honestly didn’t feel that way.
‘I love you,’ said Zander.
‘I love you.’
‘I can’t think of anything I’d like more than living with you.’
‘Me neither.’
He took another breath. ‘And . . . it’s not something I’ve ever considered with anyone else, but seeing as the fortune-teller brought it up, I can definitely see myself wanting us to have babies.’
‘Wow,’ said Flo.
‘One girl, one boy. Sounds good to me. In your own time,’ Zander amended with a lopsided smile. ‘Not necessarily straight away.’
As he said it, another hot air balloon, this time a chequered purple and green one, sailed by overhead. Two small children raced after it, waving and screaming with delight. Flo felt as if she could float with happiness. After all these years, the perfect man had come along and she knew he wouldn’t let her down. Together they could overcome the problem of Lena.
And having Zander’s flat all to herself, even if it wasn’t the flat she most wanted, might hopefully, in turn, go some way towards easing the way Lena felt about Flo.
‘So is this it?’ Flo wrapped her arms around Zander’s waist. ‘All sorted? You’re going to pack up your things and move in with me and Jeremy?’
‘If you think Jeremy’ll be OK with that. Maybe you should check with him first.’
‘He likes you. It’ll be fine. He’ll welcome you with open paws.’
‘Well,’ said Zander, ‘I call this a result.’
Together they made their way back across the Downs to the car.
‘Hang on a second. I never remember to do this and I really should.’ Pausing, Flo pulled out her phone and held it up to take a photo. She framed the two of them on the screen with the dramatic gorge and the suspension bridge behind them and a huge orange hot air balloon drifting overhead. Click went the camera, and the moment was captured forever.
‘Years from now, we’ll show that picture to the kids,’ said Zander. ‘What are we going to call them, by the way? Any ideas?’
‘Already sorted,’ said Flo. ‘Gaviscon and Petunia. Those are their names. We’ll tell them this was the day we decided to have them.’
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘All in all, it’s been a pretty great day.’
Flo put her phone away and blew him a playful kiss. ‘Better still, it’s not over yet.’
Chapter 46
Dear Rose,
My three things are:
I am the cleverest person I know.
I compile cryptic crosswords for fun.
It annoys me when people think they know better than me, especially when I know they don’t.
My best friend Sally is driving me mad. We’ve known each other since we were children and we’re both now twenty-six. For the last ten years she’s chosen all the wrong boyfriends, but each time I tell her this, she refuses to listen. But I’m always right. Why won’t she believe me? I could save her so much heartbreak.
Sincerely,
David
Dear David,
People need to be allowed to make their own mistakes, otherwise they’ll always be convinced their choice was the right one. We always think we know best – that’s just human nature. If Sally really liked someone but didn’t go out with them because you’d told her not to, she would forever be convinced that this one would have been the big love of her life.
But I do sympathise. Yes, of course it’s frustrating, but in her position you’d feel exactly the same. All you can do is be there for her when the wrong boyfriends let her down. And hopefully one day your best friend Sally will meet the right one, who won’t.
Love,
Rose
PS I do wonder if you’re secretly hoping you might turn out to be the right one? Maybe you will, but be prepared to accept that this might not happen.
Poor David, in love with his best friend and unlikely to find his somewhat regimented feelings returned. Sally might be his best friend but was he hers? Hallie uploaded her reply and guessed that it wouldn’t satisfy David; short of demanding that his views be listened to and obeyed, nothing would.
Oh well.
She sat forward on the sofa to relax her back and shoulders. Last week’s session with the musculoskeletal physio had helped to ease the pains brought about by the effort required to breathe, but she still ached. On the up side, sh
e was feeling less woozy today, had managed to stay awake after doing her meds and had put on almost two kilos, which was a great achievement. Struggling to gain weight was the bane of her life.
And now she’d updated the website too. Good going, after the last few days of feeling rubbish.
Her phone began to ring and she answered it.
‘Hey,’ said Bea. ‘Where are you?’
‘In Tanzania, in a hot air balloon floating above the Serengeti. Honestly, you should see it,’ said Hallie. ‘It’s amazing. There are herds of wildebeest sweeping across the plains—’
‘You’ve been watching Fawlty Towers again. Are you at home?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good, open the door then. You’ve got visitors.’
Plural. Bea and who?
Thirty seconds later, she found out.
‘Hallie, lovely Hallie. These are for you, from me.’ A blast of designer aftershave, a crackly flourish of cellophane, and the biggest bouquet she’d seen for some time briefly filled her field of vision.
‘Surprise!’ said Bea, as Hallie found herself being air-kissed on both cheeks by Ross. ‘We thought we’d come to see you!’
At a guess, so they could get the first-time-as-a-couple awkwardness out of the way. Amused, Hallie took the flowers. ‘Wow, thanks, these are amazing. How lovely! Nice to see you again! Come along in.’
They went into the living room and Hallie hooked herself back up to the oxygen supply. The flowers really were amazing, exotic and wildly extravagant; it was sheer bad luck that the arrangement included so many lilies, whose sickly scent reminded her of death.
Never mind, it’s the thought that counts.
‘Wow, you’re looking great.’ Ross said it with rather too much enthusiasm.
Hallie, who knew she wasn’t, said, ‘Thanks, so are you.’ Which was true; in his leaf-green designer-of-course shirt and navy blue trousers, and with his dark glasses perched on top of his head, Ross was tanned and glowing with health. Next to him, Bea was visibly besotted.
‘We’ve just been over to Abingdon for lunch with Ross’s parents,’ said Bea. ‘They’re so great. I loved them!’
‘And they loved you too. Don’t forget about those theatre tickets, by the way,’ Ross reminded her. ‘As soon as you know you can go, tell Mum and she’ll book them.’ He turned to include Hallie in the conversation. ‘Les Miserables in London. Not my cup of tea, but Mum loves it.’
