‘As big as you like.’ Dex felt as if he’d won an amazing prize. ‘That red tub in Delphi’s room with all her toys in? You can use that if you want.’
‘You think you’re joking,’ Molly warned. ‘But I might.’
He gave her another nudge. ‘So does this mean we’re friends again?’
This time she nudged him back. ‘Maybe.’
Thank God.
‘Good. I’m glad. Missed you.’
‘Well, you would,’ said Molly. ‘I’m very missable.’
He wanted to hug her. He definitely wasn’t going to hug her.
As they reached the cottages, Dex took out his car keys and opened the boot of the car. ‘I need to get everything inside. It’s OK,’ he waved Molly away, ‘you take Delphi in. I’ll bring these.’
When he’d unlocked the front door, Molly said, ‘Her nappy’s pretty wet. Shall I take her up and change her?’
‘Thanks, you’re a star.’ He paused to watch her make her way up the staircase with Delphi beaming at him over her shoulder. What a great bum Molly had. OK, don’t even think that.
Turning, Dex headed outside and collected the first of the carriers from the car. Back in the kitchen, he discovered the ice cream was melting and some of the other frozen food was starting to defrost. Unpacking the bags, he began stowing everything in the freezer. As usual he’d bought more food than there was space to store it so fitting everything in was like a game of sub-zero Tetris.
He was doing battle with a bag of frozen peas and another of roast potatoes when someone behind him coughed to let him know they were there and an amused voice said, ‘So officially I’m dropping by to make sure Delphi’s OK after her inoculation, but what I’m actually wondering is if you might be interested in an evening of wild sex, seeing as I happen to be in the vicinity.’
Shit, shit. Dex rose, turned and said, ‘Hi, nice to see you—’
‘I would have rung the bell,’ Amanda went on, ‘but the front door was wide open and I saw the supermarket stuff in the boot of the car. And I know I was meant to wait for you to phone me, but this was just a spur-of-the-moment decision. I was visiting another patient in the next village. You don’t mind, do you?’ She raised a playful eyebrow. ‘If you aren’t in the mood for wild sex, just say the word. I won’t take offence.’
Such a clear, confident, carrying voice.
‘The thing is, I’m a bit . . .’
‘Hey, it’s fine, I can give you a hand with this. Let me help. Shall I go and get the rest of the bags out of the car?’
‘Um . . .’ He was hopelessly out of practice with situations like this, had lost his lightning-fast reflexes. Amanda was already heading outside. All he needed to do was explain to her that he had other plans and—
‘OK, well, this is slightly awkward,’ said Molly from the top of the stairs.
Oh fuck, she’d heard. Well, of course she had. Dex turned to see her standing there with Delphi, who was ready for bed in her fuzzy blue sleepsuit.
‘It isn’t.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ll just tell her you’re here.’
‘Dex, it’s fine. I’ll go.’
‘But—’
‘Look, she’s obviously offering you a far more exciting evening than I am. It’s not a problem. You just go ahead and carry on. I didn’t realise you two were having a thing.’ As she spoke, Molly came down the stairs and handed Delphi over to him. At that moment Amanda reappeared in the front doorway, weighed down with three carriers and a multi-pack of nappies.
‘Oh hello!’ Unlike him, Amanda recovered at the speed of light. ‘I didn’t realise anyone else was here! Just popped by to check that Delphi hadn’t been off colour after her last inoculation—’
‘We’re just friends,’ Molly told her. ‘I live next door. Really, it’s OK, I was about to leave anyway.’
So the options were no sex with Molly or sex with Amanda, and Dex was actually torn. Before he could react, the decision was made for him.
‘Were you? Oh well, in that case,’ Amanda said brightly to Molly, ‘bye!’
Back at home, Molly sat cross-legged on the sofa with an A4 sketch pad on her lap. So Dex was having a clandestine relationship with Dr Carr. And if she was going to leave her silver Peugeot parked outside Gin Cottage, it wasn’t likely to stay clandestine for much longer.
Not that there was anything wrong with that; they were two single people and there was no reason why they shouldn’t see each other. Although it rather looked as if Dex’s vow not to sleep with women in his home was about to bite the dust.
Then again, had anyone ever thought for a minute that it wouldn’t?
Well anyway, good luck to them. Molly’s stomach tightened as she doodled a quick sketch of Amanda Carr with her geometrically perfect hair, pert nose and crisp white shirt, always so calm and in control. They were probably close in age, but Amanda was the proper grown-up. She had a stethoscope.
With mixed emotions, Molly exaggerated the slightly pointed chin and narrow mouth for witchy effect. Perhaps it was the grown-upness that had attracted Dex’s interest. Maybe this was what he wanted or needed from a partner in order to stop him endlessly sloping off in search of the next conquest.
Molly closed her eyes and opened them again. Did this mean it was a relationship that might actually last? If she was honest, she didn’t want it to be. The reason she’d spurned Dex’s drunken advances had been because he was, by his own admission, such a player, such a hideously bad bet. They were next-door neighbours and she had taken the executive decision that they were infinitely better off as genuine friends than as two people who’d got themselves entangled in a messy fling that hadn’t worked out.
Especially as she sensed it wouldn’t be Dex who ended up getting emotionally shredded when it didn’t end well.
Which was all fine and perfectly sensible, but it was still going to be a kick in the teeth if he were to promptly ditch his bad-boy ways and end up living happily ever after in Gin Cottage with Delphi and the uber-efficient Dr Amanda Carr.
Molly added vampire teeth and wrinkles to the sketch of Amanda. Ashamed of herself, she then tore the page into tiny shreds. It was absolutely none of her business. They could do whatever they liked. Amanda Carr was a smart, attractive, professional woman with a great figure. It wasn’t as if they were rivals, for heaven’s sake.
It was just slightly embarrassing that the last time they’d seen each other, she’d been lying on her back naked from the waist down while Dr Carr had snapped on surgical gloves and given her a smear test.
Chapter 32
The postman had delivered the parcel a couple of hours earlier but it wasn’t until mid-afternoon when the café emptied that Frankie had the chance to open it. Ripping off the tape, she unfastened the end of the Jiffy bag and pulled out something soft and squishy wrapped in white tissue.
The moment she pulled the tissue paper apart she knew what it was and who had sent it. The dress, made of scarlet viscose and modestly styled with a Peter Pan collar, long sleeves and randomly scattered white polka dots, had been worn by Hope during the much-loved Christmas episode of Next to You.
Wow.
There was a handwritten note with it. Unbelievably touched by the gesture, Frankie saw from the address at the top that it had been sent from Hope’s late mother’s house in Devon. It said:
Dearest Frankie,
I found this packed away in a trunk in my mum’s attic and thought you might like to add it to the collection of memorabilia in your café. Call it a thank you for dinner and our lovely chat. Obviously I’d rather keep my involvement out of it so if anyone asks, maybe you could tell them you bought the dress at auction from another collector on eBay. Or if you prefer, you can sell it on eBay – since it’s my gift to you, you can do with it whatever you like!
Anyway, it was wonderful to see you again. I’m so glad I plucked up the courage to revisit Briarwood. Thank you also for your continuing discretion.
Warmest wishes,
Hope
; Gosh, how incredibly generous of her. Even if it presumably counted as a form of bribery. Running her fingers over the silky matte viscose, Frankie jumped as the door swung open and a couple of tourists entered the café. She folded the letter up small and slipped it into her pocket.
‘Oh my goodness.’ The woman’s eyes widened at the sight of the instantly recognisable dress on the counter. ‘Is that a copy of the one from the show?’
‘It’s the original.’ Frankie smoothed the edges of the white collar like a proud mother.
‘How amazing.’ The man was gazing at it as if it were a holy relic. ‘Where did it come from?’
‘I got lucky.’ Discovering that sometimes lying came quite easily to her, Frankie said happily, ‘Picked it up on eBay. Isn’t it great?’
It was a private party, held in one of those houses bordering the Downs in Bristol, the kind of imposing five-storey Georgian property you could never imagine being lived in by just the one family.
But this one was. And rather endearingly, the request to have Molly there drawing caricatures of the invited guests had come from ninety-three year old Muriel Shaw. Having made contact via the website, computer-savvy Muriel had booked her for the evening. Now, having met her, Molly had gained new understanding of the word matriarch.
The ground floor of the enormous house was open-plan and wooden-floored, enabling Muriel to bomb around it on her mobility scooter with her small dog Wilbur perched in the basket attached to the front. The party was being held to celebrate her birthday and she’d organised every last aspect herself. Hugely intelligent and charismatic, with white hair pulled back in an elegant chignon and bright blue eyes that missed nothing, she was overseeing operations, greeting guests, knocking back mojitos and dazzling everyone with the diamond necklace she’d treated herself to as a reward for having reached the grand age of ninety-three.
‘Don’t worry about trying to make me pretty,’ Muriel told Molly while she sat regally for her own caricature. ‘Just so long as you make Wilbur look good. He’s the one who matters.’
And when she surveyed the end result she said happily, ‘My nose is bigger than that, but you got my teeth off to a tee. I’m glad you’ve drawn me looking like I’m having fun.’
For the next two hours, Molly drew the great-grandchildren, the various members of the huge extended family and other assorted guests. Finally a hand came to rest on her shoulder and a male voice said, ‘I think you should stop for a rest now, take a break before your hand seizes up. Let me show you where the food is.’
Glancing up, her heart did a little skip of interest. Wow, talk about impressive. He was in his early thirties, tall and rock-starry with longish blond hair and slanting emerald-green eyes. He wore a black shirt, cool jeans and a leather beaded choker around his tanned neck.
‘Thanks.’ Molly followed him through to the drawing room where the buffet was laid out. She covertly admired his long legs and athletic build. He was well-spoken and polite, with elegant hands and good teeth. ‘Are you one of the family?’
‘I am. Muriel’s my grandmother. She’s incredible.’ He smiled and added, ‘I don’t know how she does it.’
When he’d finished piling food on to her plate, he said, ‘I’ll get you a drink. Where would you like to eat?’
From experience, Molly knew that if she mingled with the guests, they’d ask her to sketch them. ‘Outside, maybe? Just somewhere quiet? It’s OK, you don’t have to keep me company.’
‘I’d like to.’ He led the way out into the garden, found an empty table with candles flickering in multi-coloured glass jars. ‘That is, if you don’t mind.’
‘I don’t mind.’ In fact, hooray. ‘I’m Molly, by the way.’
His eyes glinted. ‘I know you’re Molly-by-the-way. Muriel told me.’ Solemnly he held out his hand. ‘My name’s Vince.’
‘Hi, Vince. Nice to meet you. And I agree with you about your grandmother. She’s an amazing lady.’
‘My parents weren’t too thrilled when she picked out that diamond necklace.’ Vince’s tone was rueful. ‘They like to save money, while Gran prefers to spend it. But as she pointed out, if my grandfather were still alive, he’d have bought it for her, so why shouldn’t she get it for herself?’
‘And how did you feel about that?’
‘I was the one who said she definitely should. In fact, I drove her to the auction rooms.’
‘Good for you.’ Molly was all in favour of that.
‘Not at all. It’s her money, she can do what she likes with it.’ Vince shook his head. ‘My mother thinks a diamond necklace is a ridiculous waste of money when Muriel might not have long left to wear it. As far as I’m concerned, all the more reason to buy it now.’
Molly swallowed a mouthful of smoked salmon blini. ‘I think so too. And what do you do?’
‘Guess.’
He looked so cool. ‘Musician.’
He smiled briefly. ‘Architect.’
‘Really?’
‘I know. It’s the clothes.’
‘And the hair.’
‘I’m sorry. I just put on whatever makes me feel comfortable. Most architects do wear proper clothes.’
‘Is there a proper uniform?’
‘There is.’ Vince nodded. ‘I sometimes have to wear a suit to work. I’m happier when I don’t.’
‘You’re making me wonder now,’ said Molly, ‘if there’s a caricaturist’s uniform I should have been wearing all these years.’
‘And what do you suppose that would look like?’ He sounded interested.
‘Big red clown shoes, probably. With baggy trousers and a spinning bow tie.’
Vince laughed and let her carry on eating. They chatted for a while longer and Molly found herself liking him more and more. Which, given her history, undoubtedly meant he had to be either gay, married or an extraterrestrial alien.
Eventually a middle-aged couple came over and begged her to draw them before they had to leave. She went back inside to work for another hour. At ten o’clock in the evening, Muriel sailed across the parquet floor on her bright red mobility scooter and said, ‘Darling, can I ask you a few highly personal questions?’
‘Fire away.’
‘Are you single?’
Crikey. Molly nodded. ‘Yes I am.’
‘So does that mean you’d be open to the idea of going out on a date?’
‘Depends who with.’
‘OK, I’m going to let you in on a little secret.’ Muriel leaned forward and clasped her arm. ‘My grandson Vince, he’s a little shy. I have no idea where he gets it from. Certainly not me.’ The fabulous diamonds flashed under the light from the chandelier. ‘But there we go. He’s the loveliest boy – well, man. He just lacks confidence. I spoke to him earlier and it’s obvious he likes you and finds you attractive. Well, why wouldn’t he? Look at you! Anyway, I told him he should ask you out but he said you might not want to go. So I’m here to make discreet enquiries on his behalf, because being ninety-three can make you kind of impatient.’ Her eyes were birdlike as she scrutinised Molly’s face for a reaction. ‘So what d’you think, hmm?’
The hilarious thing was, Muriel’s head was tilted to one side and so was Wilbur’s, at exactly the same questioning angle. The difference between them was that Muriel was drinking a Manhattan and Wilbur was wagging his tail.
‘Well,’ said Molly, ‘this is a first.’
‘What can I tell you? More than anything, I just want my grandson to be happy. He deserves to be,’ said Muriel. ‘He’s a good person, I can promise you that. No nasty secrets. He’s intelligent, handsome, kind . . .’ She trailed away, waiting to see if she’d succeeded in her pitch.
Molly smiled. Basically, how could she refuse? ‘If he asked me out,’ she said, ‘I’d say yes.’
‘Good girl. You won’t regret it.’ Muriel triumphantly reversed her scooter and executed a tight turning circle in order to head off. ‘Have you drawn him yet?’
‘Er, no . . .’
; ‘Excellent, I’ll send him over. Bye-eee!’
Perhaps understandably, it took Vince a while to pluck up the courage to return. Personally Molly was amazed he hadn’t done a runner.
‘Hi again,’ he announced when she’d finished a caricature of one of Muriel’s neighbours. ‘I’m back. My turn now.’
‘No problem!’ Molly carried on as if everything was fine. ‘Take a seat!’
‘OK, so it’s pretty obvious my grandmother’s been meddling. I can tell by the look on your face.’ He nodded when she pretended to look mystified.
‘Oh.’
‘Look, I’m sorry. I love her to bits but she’s incorrigible. I begged her not to say anything but there’s just no telling her. She’s already forced you to agree to go out on a date with me, hasn’t she?’
‘I wouldn’t say forced.’ Molly realised she was going to have to put him out of his misery. ‘She wanted to know if you asked me out, would I say yes.’
‘And?’
‘I said yes.’
‘You don’t have to.’
He was a nice person. More to the point, this time it wasn’t just her own possibly flawed opinion; she had a cast-iron guarantee from Muriel.
Anyway, why shouldn’t she go? It would be an adventure. Work had taken over recently. Fishing-mad Graham had been her last boyfriend, which meant she’d been single for almost a year now.
Crikey, that was ages. How had she only just realised it had been so long? What had initially been a deliberate decision to steer clear of men for a bit had somehow stretched into twelve whole months.
At this rate she was in danger of turning into the village spinster.
Aloud, Molly said, ‘I’d really like to,’ and saw Vince exhale with relief.
‘Sure?’
‘Sure.’
‘You’re not just saying that?’
‘I’m really not.’ She began to sketch him as the smile spread across his face and he visibly relaxed. Goodness, he was so good-looking. He resembled a rock star, yet the stellar outer package concealed an inner, less confident personality. That was actually a very attractive quality in a man.
‘You’ve just made my night,’ said Vince. ‘My grandmother has her uses.’
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