‘Why did you decide to stay?’ He picked up his menu.
‘Well,’ she said, nodding her thanks as the waiter refilled her glass, ‘my Aunt Florence meant a great deal to me and I’m not a quitter.’
‘No, you don’t strike me as one.’ Richard pushed his hand through his hair, looking momentarily like the man in the ad for a hair dye to cover greys. Only the man in the ad clearly didn’t need it and would have looked equally as sexy with greying hair. Anna was so lost in her thoughts that Richard repeated the question. ‘Anna, were you close to your aunt?’
‘Very.’ She took another sip. ‘I didn’t see her the last couple of years, though, because life got in the way.’
‘Life?’ He smiled. ‘You can tell me.’
‘Just trying to make ends meet and then, not too long ago, my ex threatened to fight for custody of the children. He said he would tell the court I’d kept him away.’
‘And have you?’ he said so kindly she thought her heart might break.
‘Maybe,’ she said truthfully. ‘Not because I don’t want them to know him, but I know how easily he gets bored. I’d hate for them to meet him and then for him to leave again.’
‘So your aunt left you the cottage?’ He clearly knew she was getting emotional and she was grateful for his sensitivity.
‘Yes, she did.’ The drink had started to take hold. ‘And yet, that stupid man, our neighbour, thinks he owns it. Or he did. He seems to have let the subject drop for now.’
‘Who?’ Richard furrowed his brows.
‘Horatio.’
‘Oh, he does, does he?’ He nodded grimly. ‘That certainly sounds like him. The bloody Spencerville family think they own everything around here.’
‘I know my aunt wouldn’t want the Spencerville family to get their hands on the house.’ Then she thought about the diary entry. ‘I mean, even though it was theirs originally.’
Richard frowned and then, just as quickly, the cloud disappeared from his features. ‘Was theirs originally?’
Anna sat back in her chair, realising she had already said too much. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I don’t know what I’m saying.’
‘Are you going to their annual harvest party? Up at Ridley Manor?’ He put his hand up to get the waiter’s attention.
She nodded. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘Well, once you’ve seen the size of that place,’ Richard laughed, ‘you’ll know they can certainly live without your cottage.’
‘Oh, you know their house well?’ Anna slurped at her champagne, shooting an apologetic look at the waiter who had been told to pick up her wad of loo roll.
‘Um… Quite well, yes. I’ve lived here all my life.’
‘So you know the entire Spencerville family? I’d imagine you do.’
‘Yes. I know them. We’ve had our issues in the past.’ He paused. ‘I don’t always see eye to eye with Horatio.’
‘That makes two of us.’ Anna took a bread roll and sliced through the butter, adding it to her plate. She started to munch happily. ‘He’s such a pompous oaf. He thinks he’s above me.’
‘That sounds like him.’
‘What has he done to you?’ Anna desperately wanted to try the sun-dried tomato bread too, but, noticing Richard hadn’t picked any up, decided against it.
‘He’s taken many things from me in the past. Horatio doesn’t understand not to touch what another person owns.’ He nodded. ‘So, telling you he owns that cottage isn’t out of character, I hate to say.’
‘Dreadful man.’ Anna put her hand under her chin, elbow propped up on the table.
‘Anyway, you can see for yourself at the party.’ He nodded at the waiter. ‘I’ll order for us both.’
Anna frowned. How did he know what she wanted to eat? She sipped at her champagne, her brain fizzing with alcohol and Richard’s words. While Richard finished ordering, she summoned up the courage to ask him the one burning question that had been on her mind all evening. ‘Richard, would you like to accompany me to the drinks party on Friday?’ She blushed. ‘If you’re free.’
He took her hand. ‘My God, you’re beautiful.’
She felt her cheeks grow even warmer. ‘Would you?’
‘I’m so sorry but I’m away,’ he said. ‘But any other time and I wouldn’t have hesitated.’
‘Oh.’ Anna sat back. ‘Never mind.’
‘Who will you take now?’ He winked. ‘Will I be jealous?’
Anna thought of Diane and shook her head. ‘I doubt it.’
Richard dropped her off at home, walking her to the door. Her heart was racing. She hadn’t done this bit in a long time.
‘Would you like to come in for coffee?’ she said. It seemed a good start.
‘I’d love to.’ He stepped towards her and caressed her cheek with his hand. She closed her eyes and could feel his breath on her lips, when her mother’s voice, like a foghorn, caused her to snap her eyes open.
‘Yoooooohoooooooo!’
They turned to see her mother and Tony walking drunkenly up the drive and opening the gate onto the garden path.
‘Hallo, darling,’ her mother called out loudly, despite the fact she was almost on top of them. ‘Not interrupting, are we? Don’t want to stop any rumpy-pumpy now, do we, Tony?’
Anna gave her mother a cold, hard stare. ‘Mum.’
‘Darling, no need to look at me like that, when you’re standing in a public place.’
‘It’s my house.’
‘Our house,’ her mother corrected her. ‘Anyway, don’t let us stop you. I promised Tony a cup of tea, a Hobnob,’ she winked, ‘and a private viewing of my new La Perla thong. Told him the botty isn’t what it used to be, but he seems happy with the arrangement.’ She grinned at Tony, who appeared to only have one outfit as he was still wearing the blue boiler suit he wore to work around the house. ‘Isn’t that so, Tony?’
‘Arrr.’ He nodded, his eyes blinking rapidly beneath his bushy eyebrows.
They pushed past Anna and Richard and her mother pinched Anna’s cheek, looked at Richard and said, ‘You know, you’ve got a good one there. She’s like a diamond in the rough. Imagine how gorgeous she would be without the puppy fat.’
Once the door was closed, Anna could barely bring herself to look at Richard. When she did, he was smiling. ‘Well, it’s certainly been an eye-opening evening.’
‘Yeah, so, I’m really sorry about the looroll thing and my mum and the thong thing.’ As she spoke she knew she had blown it. ‘My life is tragic.’
‘No, it’s not.’ He smiled and leant in towards her. ‘You are beaut—’
Her mother opened the door once more and whispered to her. ‘Sorry, me again. Won’t be a minute, Richard. It’s just I’m wondering if it’s too late to talk to my daughter about the birds and the bees.’
‘Mum!’ Anna hissed in dismay. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘Darling, we never had that chat when you were growing up. I just feel this might be the time to have it.’
Richard cleared his throat.
‘Mum,’ she whispered loudly, ‘I’ve got two children. There might be a clue in there somewhere.’
Her mother threw her head back, laughing. ‘Oh yes, right you are. Sorrrrrrrrrrry!’
The Physalis War
The next morning, Anna wandered past her mother’s room, cringing at the image of Tony snuggled up to her like a needy dog, and made her way downstairs for some much-needed coffee. Her head throbbed as she tried to recall how many glasses of champagne she’d actually drunk last night. She grimaced at the memory of raw fish for starters followed by steak tartare. Richard told her all the best food was uncooked and she had been forced to agree; after all, he had invited her. Maybe, Anna decided as she clutched her stomach waiting for the kettle to boil, he was gently teaching her about haute cuisine because he saw a future with her. This made her smile. She wouldn’t mind staring dreamily into his eyes over candlelight for ever more.
She turned at the sound of footsteps behind
her. Her mother, wearing a pink dressing gown wrapped tightly around her rotund middle, settled into a chair at the far end of the table and Anna, unspeaking, put a coffee down in front of her. Anna didn’t know how to broach the subject of her mother needing to leave tactfully and dived right in.
‘Mum, I—’
Her mother put her hand up, stopping her mid-flow. ‘Don’t apologise.’
‘Apologise? Me? For what?’ Anna shook her head in disbelief.
‘For last night.’ Her mother sucked coffee through her teeth.
‘What have I got to apologise about?’
‘For being here when we got back.’
Anna slammed her cup down, coffee sloshing over the side. ‘Seriously? Mum, this is my house. I was on a date and we came back to my house. Richard left last night because of you.’
Her mother’s face fell and she sniffled. ‘Well, Diane had the decency not to be around.’
‘Mum, you’re going to have to leave. You’re invading my personal space.’
There. She had said it and she felt so much better for it, until she saw that her mother was, in fact, now crying.
‘Oh Mum, don’t get upset.’ Anna stood and came round to her side of the table. ‘I didn’t mean to sound harsh. It’s just that, you know, I really want things to work out with Richard. Life’s been pretty lonely since Simon upped and left. I guess I just want my chance of happiness.’
Her mother nodded, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Anna grabbed some paper towel off the side and handed her a piece.
‘But that’s what I feel too, Anna. Since Dad died.’
Anna hung her head, shame washing over her. ‘I know.’
‘You know, he was everything to me.’ She paused. ‘Well, until I met Fred.’
Anna knitted her brows. ‘Who’s Fred?’
‘The postman.’
‘What?’
‘Let’s not get into that now. The point is I feel my life is so empty, and now you’ve given me a chance to live again. Tony is sweet and makes me happy.’
‘But how does he make you happy?’
‘He just lets me talk and I like making him tea. It makes me feel useful again.’
Anna nodded. ‘So, you think he’s really the one for you?’
‘Yes, I really do.’ She looked up, her eyes big and full and earnest. ‘I really do. Plus…’
‘Plus? I know what you’re going to say, Mum. It’s important for us to spend time together and you’re right.’ Anna wafted the air with her hand. ‘Forget me being all crotchety. It’s probably my hangover and my, um, dodgy stomach.’
‘No, that’s not what I was going to say.’ Her mother beamed. ‘I really think we all make a good team.’
Anna didn’t have the heart to disagree.
Later that morning, Anna sat at the kitchen table, wearing her sunglasses.
‘Is your head still that bad?’ Diane said, batting the kitchen table with wooden spoons with as much force as she could muster.
‘Yes and thank you for that.’ Anna was staring blankly at a Black Forest gateau recipe she had downloaded off the Internet. ‘I don’t even have half these ingredients, which means I have to actually leave the house, which, in my current state, would not be wise.’
‘What are you missing? Can’t you just interpret the recipe? You know, like substitute some stuff.’
‘Sure, what do I use as a substitute for eggs and flour?’
‘OK, sod it.’ Diane took a gulp of wine. A glass or two at lunch was her new ‘Mediterranean’ habit, which she claimed would add years to her life. ‘Just buy the bloody cakes. I mean, you’ve already told Moose-inda you’re, like, besties with Nigella Lawson because you know how to bake a moist cake – which would, one,’ she held a finger in the air, ‘mean you’re, like, shit-hot at baking. And two, it means we can’t be best friends any more.’
‘Why not?’ Anna put the recipe down.
‘Because only shallow people would ditch me because they’re now best friends with some successful chick off TV who licks spoons of honey like she’s orgasming on sugar.’
Anna folded the paper up and laughed. ‘I would never dump you in favour of Nigella even if the story I told Lucinda was true.’
‘So…’ Diane knocked back the remainder of her glass. ‘My point is you’re not a shit-hot baker. In fact, you’re just a shit baker, so let’s hit Waitrose and buy the sodding things.’
Anna went to protest but, for once, went with her pounding head and not her heart: there was no way she could bake two Black Forest gateaux. Who was she kidding? She grabbed her coat and bag off the side.
They sang along to Anna’s homemade mix tape on the journey over, windows down, cool air blasting their faces. Anna drove fast and came to a screeching halt in a space near the entrance to Waitrose, Beyoncé’s ‘Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)’ blasting from the speakers.
‘If you liked it then you should’ve put a ring on it. Wuh uh oh uh oh oh,’ Diane sang along as she climbed out of the car.
Anna locked the door and came up alongside her, linking arms and joining in. They were concentrating so hard on their swagger and wiggling of fingers, Anna didn’t notice Lucinda and her posse gossiping in the fruit aisle.
‘Oh bugger,’ Anna said under her breath, but it was already too late.
‘Oh, ladies,’ Lucinda purred, ‘meet out new neighbour. Anna lives in the small cottage up on the hill. You know the one, ladies.’
A circle of six dolled-up faces nodded like sheep. ‘Hi, Anna,’ they chorused.
‘What brings you to Waitrose, dear Anna?’ Lucinda smiled sweetly.
Anna thought that was quite obvious. ‘Um, food?’
The women laughed heartily and Anna looked at Diane, confused.
‘Lucinda, this is Diane, my friend who’s staying with me.’
Lucinda eyes grazed the length of Diane’s body, resting finally on her orange nails. ‘Was that a dare?’
‘What?’ Diane looked at her hands. ‘My nails? No, I like orange.’ Anna could sense Diane’s mood shift. ‘There’s nothing wrong with orange.’
‘No,’ Lucinda said. ‘I suppose not.’
Lucinda’s clique also look worried; they too sensed the change in mood. Lucinda and Diane stared at each other until Anna broke the terrifying silence.
‘Right, Diane, shall we get on?’
‘Yes,’ Lucinda said, holding her basket with one solitary item: a jar of liquid egg white. ‘Must mingle.’
The women nodded and, remaining in a semi-circle, picked up their baskets in unison as if about to perform as the chorus girls in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.
‘Yes, mingle,’ Anna repeated, wondering when Waitrose had become a social event. ‘Enjoy your shop.’ She grabbed Diane’s arm and started to move off.
‘Now, ladies, help me choose some physalis.’ She looked pointedly at Anna. ‘For the cakes I’m baking for Friday.’ The women nodded and dived into the crate, happy to have been given a task by the alpha female.
‘Physalis? Did you say physalis?’ Diane said sweetly and Anna braced herself. ‘You know you can get a cream for that?’
Lucinda’s botoxed face didn’t move, but her eyes blinked rapidly and she looked at Anna. ‘You should keep your friend under control.’
Anna took Diane by the arm. ‘I wouldn’t dream of controlling anyone, especially Diane.’
Leaving the gaggle of women, mouths agog, they walked away, clinging to each other in an effort to control their giggles. Once they’d rounded the corner and were in the safety of the carb-centric bread and cake aisle, they burst into laughter. Anna wiped away the tears.
‘You know,’ Anna said, ‘I am so dead now. Friday’s cake sale is going to be interesting.’
Diane, her black eyeliner running down her cheeks, massaged her cheeks. ‘Oh God, my jaw aches. Too funny.’ She picked up a brioche and dumped it in her basket. ‘I mean, what are they going to do? Yoga you to death with a group lotus or blind you
with mismatching tweed?’
Anna giggled. ‘I don’t know, but hell hath no fury like a perfect woman accused of having an STI.’
‘Well, I mean, who ever buys those physalis things anyway. They’re like the fruit no one knows what to do with. Have you ever seen your bestie Nigella say, “What this dish really needs is a sexy and generous helping of physalis?” No.’
Anna stared at the cakes, feeling incredibly guilty that the very women she was hoping to impress were feet away, carefully picking out fruit for Lucinda’s cakes. Though she thought it unfair that Lucinda clearly had a team behind her. Diane would be with her in spirit – whisky or similar, no doubt – but she couldn’t imagine she would be any help beyond that.
Anna and Diane spotted the pack walk past the bread aisle, their eyes salivating over the pastries, and Lucinda appraised them and looked pointedly at Anna.
‘Remember, ladies,’ Lucinda bleeted, ‘a moment on the hips…’ She stopped. ‘Anna, I look forward to seeing you at the bake sale. I’m the current champion.’
Anna jutted her jaw out. ‘I look forward to seeing you too, Lucinda.’
They held each other’s stare and Anna knew then, she had to win. As she watched Lucinda totter off with her posse, she knew this was her time to shine and she wanted to make the twins proud.
Abandoning hope of finding Black Forest gateaux, she picked up various ingredients for chocolate cake and then two enormous, pre-made chocolate cakes, so rich and delicious they made her mouth water (just in case) and put them in her basket. They waited for Lucinda and company to move on before leaving the baking aisle and grabbing two jars of glazed cherries and some pecan nuts.
‘Are you actually going to make your own?’ Diane pointed to the flour and eggs.
‘I’ll try,’ Anna said. ‘How hard can it be to follow a recipe?’
‘Yeah, well, I’ll leave you to that.’ Diane picked up a bag of streamers. ‘Not everyone can make the basic cake a pièce de résistance.’
By the time they got home, Anna had barely had a chance to look at the recipe before she had to pick the kids up from school.
The Little Cottage in the Country Page 10
