‘And what happened to . . . the other one?’
‘Who knows? Never saw him again. Never likely to. He wasn’t, shall we say, the type to hang around.’
‘But you met him while you were filming? So does that mean he was from around here?’
Hope said simply, ‘Yes.’
Wow. ‘And is he still?’
She shook her head.
Frankie’s thoughts were racing. ‘Well, I was here then. Would I have known him?’
‘I don’t know. Possibly. Probably.’
‘It’s none of my business. You don’t have to tell me. Maybe it’s better that I don’t know.’
‘His name was Stefan,’ said Hope.
‘Oh my God. Really?’ Frankie’s mouth fell open. ‘Stefan the gypsy? Stefan Stokes?’
Two spots of bright colour glowed on Hope’s face. ‘So you do remember him.’
‘I do. I mean, I don’t have to remember him. He’s still here.’
It was Hope’s turn to be shocked.
‘He is? But . . . I went into the woods.’ Her hands were trembling. ‘The caravan . . . there’s nothing there any more. It was all gone, the pathway completely overgrown. He always told me he could never stay in the same place . . .’
‘He never could.’ For years Stefan had moved around the country, sometimes joining his extended family of Romany travellers, at other times preferring to be alone. ‘Until his daughter had a daughter of her own,’ Frankie explained, ‘and decided to put down roots. He came back eight years ago and this time he stayed.’
Hope said breathlessly, ‘Is he . . . well?’
‘Very well. The caravan’s moved,’ said Frankie. ‘When the Hanham-Howards bought Finch Hall they offered him a pitch on their land in exchange for keeping an eye on the grounds. Oh wow, this is amazing,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s like something out of a film! And he’s still single. I could take you over there now!’
‘No, no . . . it’s no good, there’s no point, that would just make things worse.’ Her hand pressed to her chest, Hope said, ‘He’s a Romany, that’s why we could never be together in the first place. His family would never have accepted him marrying an outsider. Oh crikey, I can’t stop shaking.’ She held her fingers outstretched. ‘I came back, but I didn’t expect this. I really didn’t expect him to be here.’
‘It’s good news,’ said Frankie. ‘Wouldn’t you like to see him again?’
Hope’s eyes glistened as she considered the question. Finally she said, ‘Is he still as handsome as ever?’
How old was Stefan? He had to be sixty. But yes, there was no getting away from it, tall and tanned, with those flashing dark eyes and sculpted cheekbones, Stefan Stokes would always be handsome.
Frankie nodded. ‘Yes.’
Her smile sad, Hope visibly deflated. ‘Of course he is. And look at me.’
‘Why? I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Oh come on, I’m not blind, I do occasionally see my reflection in the mirror. When I can’t avoid it,’ Hope said with resignation. ‘I know what I used to look like.’
‘But—’
‘That was then and this is now. Some people age well and I’m not one of them. Trust me, I’d be such a disappointment to Stefan. And I’d find that hard to bear.’ Finishing her drink, Hope checked her watch and pushed back her chair. ‘Anyway, time I was going. It’s been lovely to see you again, and thank you so much for . . . well, everything. But I have to be off now.’
She was like a terrified gazelle. Discovering that Stefan was in the vicinity had completely unnerved her; now she couldn’t get away fast enough. Frankie waited while she called the taxi company and asked to be collected and taken back to Cheltenham, where she was booked into a hotel.
‘It’s been wonderful to see you too,’ she told Hope.
‘Please don’t tell anyone I was here. I mean it,’ Hope begged her. ‘Not a soul.’
‘I won’t, I promise. You’re still you, though.’ Frankie couldn’t help herself, she had to give it one last try. ‘I honestly don’t think Stefan would be disappointed.’
‘But I can’t afford to take that risk. I just couldn’t bear it.’ They were at the door now. Hope was still trembling at the thought that Stefan could be nearby.
‘You can wait in the house until the taxi arrives,’ Frankie offered.
‘No, it’s OK, I’ll just lurk in the shadows.’ On the doorstep, Hope kissed her on each cheek and said, ‘They’ll be here any minute.’ She half-laughed. ‘I’ve been in such a jitter I forgot to ask about Stefan’s family. I can’t believe his daughter’s living here now. And his granddaughter! What’s her name?’
‘Addy,’ said Frankie. ‘She’s nine. A complete character.’
Hope’s smile was wistful. ‘How wonderful. And whereabouts are they?’
It was pitch black outside. From where they were standing, the houses clustered around the village green were randomly lit up. Frankie pointed to the brightest, the Saucy Swan, with its multi-coloured fairy lights sparkling in the trees outside. ‘Over there. Lois runs the pub.’
When Delphi flatly refused to sleep, Dex had discovered the trick was to put her into the pushchair, tilt it back into almost-flat mode, tuck her up in a blanket and take her for a turn around the village until she dozed off. It was probably the wrong thing to do, but what the hell, it did the job. And sometimes he stopped for a chat with whichever of the villagers happened to be occupying the tables outside the Swan. Like tonight he’d sat down with Stefan Stokes, Lois’s father. Following their first unpromising meeting all those months ago, the two of them had become friendly. Tonight they’d discussed astronomy, about which Stefan was hugely knowledgeable, and the best ways to get unsleepy babies to sleep.
‘When Lois kept us up, we just added a few drops of brandy to her bottle.’ Stefan’s eyes had flashed with amusement at the memory. ‘Everyone did it back then. I suppose you’d be reported if you tried it now.’
Lois, who’d come out to collect empty glasses, said, ‘Yes, funnily enough, giving alcohol to very small children is kind of frowned upon these days.’ She shook her head at Dex. ‘Just ignore him.’ Pointing at Delphi, still wide-eyed in her pushchair, she added, ‘And you, young lady, stop playing silly beggars and go to sleep. Give your dad a break.’
‘BRRRRRRRRAAAHHH,’ said Delphi.
If anything, she was even more awake now. Stefan and Lois had headed back inside the pub, leaving Dex to resume his walk around the village. He made his way past the entrance to the churchyard, then paused outside Frankie’s house to gaze up at the sky. He’d never studied the constellations before but Stefan had pointed a few out to him. Could he recognise them again without help?
‘GAAAAAH,’ Delphi grumbled in protest because they’d stopped moving.
‘Sshh.’ Dex rocked the pushchair back and forth and continued to stare at the stars. How could the shapes be so obvious one minute and impossible to find the next? Where was—
He turned his head, realising there was a figure in the shadows by the church gate. Blinking, readjusting his vision, Dex saw a thin older woman standing next to the wall.
‘Sorry.’ She sounded flustered. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’
‘No problem.’ Dex smiled at her concern. ‘I was just looking at the stars, trying to find Orion’s belt.’
After a moment the woman stepped out from beneath the branches of the yew tree overhanging the lychgate. Moving towards him, she turned her head up to the sky and pointed. ‘There it is. See it now? Three stars in a row.’
‘OK, yes, got it. Thanks.’
‘And there’s the Plough.’ She pointed again and drew the shape in the air with her finger until he found it.
‘You know your stuff,’ said Dex. He’d never seen her before but she was definitely coming in useful. ‘I’m just a beginner.’
‘We were all beginners once. I was taught by someone who loved the stars. Now I love them too,’ the woman said simply before turning t
o Delphi. ‘And is this your daughter?’
The advantage of Delphi’s hair growing longer was that she was no longer mistaken for a boy. Being asked if she was his daughter invariably made Dex’s heart swell with pride. ‘She is.’
Well, kind of.
‘She’s a beauty. Aren’t you, hmm?’
‘KYAAHHH.’ Delphi beamed and kicked her feet in the air.
‘Hard work too, I bet. But worth it.’ The woman bent over and waggled Delphi’s outstretched fingers.
‘Definitely worth it.’ Wondering who she was and what she was doing here, Dex was about to ask when the twin beams of a set of headlights swung across the green and a car rounded the corner.
As it approached them, the woman said, ‘Ah, that’s my taxi,’ and straightened up, signalling to the driver with her free arm.
Dex watched as she climbed into the passenger seat and waved at Delphi. ‘Bye then. Nice to meet you. Don’t forget Orion’s belt!’
‘I won’t.’ He knew he probably would. ‘Goodbye.’
Delphi, copying the woman’s wave and opening and closing her hands like tiny starfish, chirruped, ‘Baaa!’
Chapter 27
At three o’clock on Friday afternoon, Henry gave in at last and called Dexter.
He’d held out for long enough, hadn’t he? Alarmed by the strength of his reaction to the photograph of Frankie, he’d actually forced himself not to visit Dex for a few weeks. To prove that he wasn’t a crazed stalker, basically. And also in the hope that the feelings might subside.
Well, that mission had been semi-completed; he’d managed to stay away, but the feelings were still there. In the meantime, his friend Dex was probably thinking he’d been abandoned, which wasn’t good.
Dex picked up the phone and Henry said, ‘Hey, how are things with you?’
‘Fantastic, never better. I’m sitting in the doctor’s waiting room, feeling like the world’s most evil torturer.’
‘Why?’
‘Because Delphi’s on the floor playing with a plastic giraffe and thinking everything’s fine. What she doesn’t know is that in a few minutes I’m going to be the one holding her down while she gets stuck with a hypodermic as big as a knitting needle.’
Henry smiled. ‘You heartless bastard.’
‘I know. Anyhow, speaking of bastards, when are we going to see you? I thought you were coming down to visit us.’
In London, in his office on the thirty-seventh floor, Henry swung round on his swivel chair and gazed through the windows at the city spread out below him. There was the invitation; how could he turn it down?
‘That’s why I’m calling you now. How about this weekend? I thought of maybe driving down tomorrow.’
‘Hey, great. That’s brilliant. I’ll introduce you to the locals.’ Dex sounded cheerful. ‘You’ll love the pub, there’s some mad characters in there.’
‘Can’t wait.’ Henry’s mouth had already gone dry. ‘Shall I see you around midday?’
‘Oh, hang on, better make it a bit later than that. I promised to help someone out tomorrow, give them a hand in the café.’
Just the mention of the word café gave Henry a massive jolt. ‘You mean the place with the goat?’
‘Ha, that’s the one.’ Amused, Dex said, ‘This is Briarwood, remember. It’s the only café we’ve got. Anyway, I’ll be there for a few hours. Maybe you could turn up around five?’
‘Whatever.’ Talk about a golden opportunity. Henry, who had no intention of waiting until five, said, ‘I’m easy. See you when I get there.’
When he’d hung up, Henry swung his chair round in a circle and did an inner, triumphant air punch. Tomorrow he’d meet her. He’d get there early and offer to help out in the café alongside Dex.
What could be more perfect than that?
‘Delphi Yates?’ The motherly receptionist beamed at Dex and said, ‘You can take her through now, love. Dr Carr’s ready for you, second door on the left.’
But were they ready for Dr Carr? Dex was already feeling a bit sick. What if he fainted at the sight of the needle? Scooping Delphi up, he carried her out of the waiting room and down the corridor. He knocked on the door, pushed it open . . .
And came face to face with Amanda.
They stared at each other for several seconds.
The last time he’d seen her, she’d been naked. Today she was wearing a neat olive dress beneath a white medical coat. He was tempted to say, ‘I hardly recognise you with your clothes on.’ Then again, perhaps not.
Finally he said, ‘You’re Dr Carr.’
‘I am.’ She wasn’t smiling.
‘You didn’t tell me you were a GP.’
‘No, well, it’s not compulsory.’ Glancing at Delphi, on his hip, Amanda said coolly, ‘There appears to be something you forgot to mention too.’
Dex gave Delphi a squeeze as he sat down and settled her on to his lap. ‘Don’t worry, I’m still single. I’m Delphi’s guardian. It’ll all be there in her notes.’
He waited while she brought the relevant pages up on the computer and read them through.
‘Right.’ When she’d finished, Amanda visibly relaxed. ‘Well, now I know why you had to rush off home. Can I ask, are you registered with me as well? Because if you are, we should switch you to one of the other doctors in the practice.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Dex nodded; God, who’d have thought registering with a new doctor could be such a minefield?
‘OK, so Delphi needs her Hib/Men C jab. Let’s get that done, shall we?’
Amanda launched into professional mode. Dex held Delphi and did his best to distract her while the hypodermic was plunged into the soft squidgy bit of her upper thigh. Delphi’s happy carefree smile turned in slow motion into a howl of disbelief and she struggled to escape.
Dex, attempting to console her, was horrified to feel his own eyes prickle with tears. He knew he was doing this because it had to be done, but would Delphi forgive him and ever trust him again? And God, how embarrassing that Amanda was seeing him like this . . .
‘Never easy, inflicting pain on a baby.’ She smiled at him and blew up a disposable rubber glove; within seconds, Delphi had stopped crying and was shrieking with laughter as she tried to grab the inflated fingers.
‘So, anyway. This doesn’t have to be awkward,’ said Dex.
‘Apart from the slightly awkward fact that I gave you my number and you haven’t called it.’ Amanda efficiently disposed of the syringe in the sharps box and washed her hands.
‘Still have it though.’ For once he hadn’t thrown the piece of paper away; flipping open his wallet, Dex triumphantly produced it. ‘I was just waiting for the opportunity.’ Was this true? Actually, it probably was.
‘Well, good. Glad to hear it.’
‘Why did you tell me you were a secretary?’
‘Occupational hazard of being a medic.’ Amanda grimaced. ‘It’s just easier. As soon as anyone finds out you’re a doctor, they start asking you about their clicky necks and headaches and asymmetrical breasts.’
‘I wouldn’t do that,’ said Dex.
‘Even better news. Well, nice to see you again.’ Checking her watch, she said, ‘My next patient will be waiting.’
‘Let’s hope you haven’t slept with them too.’
‘Especially seeing as she’s eighty-six years old with chronic bladder trouble.’ Amanda smiled and said, ‘Bye. Call me.’
‘Gaaaaaahhh,’ burbled Delphi.
Dex said, ‘I will.’
It was one o’clock on Saturday and the sun was blazing down. Having arrived in Briarwood two hours earlier, Henry was having a curate’s egg of a day.
The good news was that Delphi was enthralled by him, following him around like a besotted puppy and endlessly fascinated by his face, his hair, his teeth, his voice.
The other items of good news were that it was great to see Dex again, the village itself was charming and the villagers friendly.
The bad news, the very,
very disappointing bad news, was that Frankie Taylor, the woman who’d occupied his thoughts for the last few weeks, wasn’t among them.
Ironically, he’d learned with a sinking heart, she was in London.
Even more ironically, for the first time ever.
‘That’s why I’m here, helping out,’ Dex had explained when he’d finished introducing Henry to Amber. ‘I was in here with Delphi the other day, chatting to Frankie about London. I couldn’t believe it when she said she’d never been. Can you imagine? And I told her she should go.’
Brilliant. Just perfect. Thanks a lot. Henry did his best to look only mildly interested.
‘Then Mum said she’d love to but she couldn’t,’ Amber chimed in, ‘because how could she leave me to run the café on my own?’
‘So I offered to give Amber a hand,’ Dex said cheerily.
There was such a thing as being too helpful. ‘And she’s gone up there for the day?’ said Henry.
‘The whole weekend! Her and her friend Molly.’ Amber rolled her eyes. ‘They’re going sightseeing during the day, then off to a club at night. I told Mum she was too old to go clubbing but it’s like she’s on some kind of mission to humiliate me.’
‘It’s about time she had some fun,’ said Dex.
‘Fun? It’s embarrassing. She’s threatening to dance.’ With a mock shudder, Amber said, ‘Except she calls it having a bit of a bop.’
‘Here we are, found it!’ The door to the café swung open and a curvy woman in a tight pink dress burst in, carrying what looked like a couple of wooden gates in each hand. When she saw Henry holding Delphi, she stopped dead in her tracks and said, ‘Well, hello, my day just took a turn for the better. Who have we here?’
Assuming she meant the baby, Henry said, ‘This is Delphi.’
‘I know that.’ Amused, the woman said, ‘I was talking to you.’
Help.
‘Don’t frighten him,’ Dex chided. ‘His name’s Henry and we used to work together. He’s down here for the weekend.’
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