Don't Want To Miss A Thing

by Mansell, Jill

  At that moment they all heard the front door being unlocked. It was one o’clock in the morning and Joe, having responded to a text from Shaun, had driven back from London in record time.

  Frankie gave her daughter’s hand a squeeze. Amber was their number one priority; she was all that mattered now.

  Joe burst into the living room, his voice cracking as he saw Amber on the sofa. ‘Oh, my girl . . .’

  Fresh tears rolled down Amber’s cheeks and she rose clumsily to her feet, arms outstretched like a child. ‘Dad . . . oh Daddy, I’ve missed you so much.’

  ‘Here.’ Christina offered Frankie the box of tissues. ‘I think we’re all going to need one of these.’

  Later, they learned from Amber that from this night on, Doss was well and truly out of her life. She never ever wanted to see him again. Shamefacedly she admitted how much of her savings he’d spent on drugs. He was selfish, a loser and a leech.

  ‘He might be sitting in a cell right now,’ said Frankie, because after leaving Horton Farm they’d called the police to let them know what had been going on. Hopefully the farmhouse would be raided and the drug pushers arrested. Amber didn’t want to make any complaints about the way they’d treated her, she just wanted to put the whole terrifying experience behind her and move on.

  When he’d heard the full story, Joe looked at Henry and said, ‘And how did you happen to be around to be involved?’

  ‘He’s Mum’s new friend,’ said Amber. With a ghost of a smile she added, ‘Well, that’s what I’m guessing. Is that right, Mum?’

  Frankie glanced at Henry and nodded. ‘Yes, he is.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad.’ Amber exhaled and rested her head on Joe’s shoulder. ‘That means we have our own superhero. I call that pretty cool.’

  Later in the kitchen as they prepared to leave, Christina murmured to Frankie, ‘I haven’t had the chance to say this before, but I’m so sorry about everything. I honestly never meant for any of it to happen.’

  There was no grief left, miraculously. No bitterness, no pain. Nodding slowly, Frankie said, ‘I know you didn’t. It’s OK.’

  ‘Thank you. And I’m glad Amber’s made up with her dad.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘He’s missed her so much.’ Christina glanced over at Amber and Shaun hugging each other out in the hallway. ‘You know what? She’s had her big scare and her difficulties and none of us can blame her for that. But from now on, I think she’ll be fine.’

  ‘I think so too. It’s as if you know her.’

  ‘I feel as if I do.’ Her smile fond, Christina said, ‘I’ve listened to her dad talking about her for the last eighteen years. She’s welcome here any time, by the way, if that’s OK with you.’

  Gosh, this was weird. ‘Same here,’ said Frankie, meaning it. ‘Whenever Shaun wants to come over, that’s fine. He’s a lovely boy, a real credit to you.’

  ‘Thank you. And Amber’s wonderful too.’ Christina said warmly, ‘Between us, I think we’ve done well with our children.’

  When they left shortly afterwards, Frankie didn’t embrace Christina; that would have been too Disney for words. But she felt as if the next time they met, she might.

  Chapter 50

  Something was happening and Molly wasn’t at all sure she liked it.

  Actually that wasn’t true; it was the fact that she did like it that was causing all this internal kerfuffle and angst.

  They were outside in the garden of Gin Cottage, in the shade of the juniper trees. It had been Dex’s idea to commission a portrait of himself and Delphi. A proper portrait in oils, not a dashed-off caricature. And Molly had been delighted, had agreed at once without realising quite how much eye contact would be required and the degree to which it might affect her.

  Nor was it helping that Dex was currently entertaining himself by doing subtle movie star poses, every now and again raising an eyebrow, twitching the corners of his mouth, gazing at her with the kind of glittery amusement that indicated he was perfectly well aware just how off-putting it was.

  ‘Stop it,’ said Molly when he did it again.

  ‘I’m giving you my Brad Pitt look.’

  ‘Well, don’t.’

  ‘OK, let’s try Ryan Reynolds.’ He altered the angle of his jaw, the tilt of his chin, and drawled, ‘Hey, baby, how are you?’

  She shook her head. ‘You sound like Joey from Friends.’

  Dex half-lowered his eyelids and slowly nodded, Joey-style. ‘Except he’d say, “How’re you doin’?”’

  ‘OK, can you stop talking now,’ Molly ordered. ‘I have to concentrate and you need to keep still.’

  So he stopped talking, but every now and again when she looked up at him to study the precise shape of his mouth he would purse his lips just slightly and blow her a barely perceptible kiss.

  Bastard.

  Inwardly, it was having quite an effect on her, even though she knew it didn’t mean anything at all; it was just a bit of fun, his way of passing the time.

  Outwardly she rolled her eyes and said, ‘You’re hilarious.’

  When she’d finished his mouth, Dex said conversationally, ‘Speaking of hilarious, how are things going with you and Vince?’

  Molly concentrated on getting the line of his left eyebrow exactly right. Oddly, Lois didn’t appear to have told anyone about Vince spending the evening in the Saucy Swan drowning his sorrows because their relationship was over. The inhabitants of Briarwood still thought they were a couple and somehow she’d found herself perpetuating the myth, going along with it.

  OK, not somehow; she knew perfectly well why she had. The way she was feeling about Dex these days simply wasn’t . . . appropriate. And maintaining the pretence that she and Vince were still together made the situation a whole lot easier to handle. Because he had Amanda and the two of them were the perfect couple. More to the point, thanks to Tina, Molly now knew why. And like it or not, once you’d been made aware of something like that, what else could you do but wish them well?

  Only someone completely heartless would want to break them up.

  Anyway, hence the white lies.

  Call it self-defence.

  And Dex was still waiting for an answer. Molly mustered a bright smile and said, ‘Everything’s fine! Vince has gone over to Toronto for a couple of weeks. He’s working out there on a new hotel his company’s building.’ Thankfully this bit was true.

  ‘Great. Will you miss him?’

  ‘Of course I’ll miss him.’

  ‘Right.’ Dex surveyed her for a moment. ‘Can I ask you something? Do you ever find Vince a bit . . . dull?’

  For heaven’s sake, talk about blunt. Trust Dex to say exactly what was on his mind.

  ‘He’s not dull. He’s just quiet.’ Pointedly Molly added, ‘And sometimes quiet is a good thing to be.’

  ‘Touchy,’ said Dex.

  ‘Maybe I am.’ And even though she wasn’t seeing Vince any more, the dig still annoyed her. ‘Different people like different things. Some people would find Amanda too full on for their liking.’

  ‘I suppose they might.’ Refusing to rise to the bait, he winked at her. ‘Don’t get cross. I only asked. There’s nothing wrong with people being quiet, I just didn’t think it’d be your thing.’

  ‘Well, maybe you’re wrong.’

  ‘So, how about you?’ Dex sounded interested. ‘Do you ever wish you were more upfront, more full on? Like Amanda?’

  ‘No.’ Molly shook her head; she was exactly as upfront as she wanted to be. ‘I really don’t.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you wish you were as good-looking and intelligent as Vince?’

  ‘Oh yes. All the time.’

  You see? It was answers like this that left her torn between wanting to burst out laughing and give him a slap.

  ‘Dada.’

  They both turned to look at Delphi, who had been asleep on the rug on the lawn and had now woken up. She rolled over on to her front, stuck her bottom in the air and levered herself to
her feet. Arms outstretched for balance, she took a couple of unsteady steps and stopped, then staggered across the grass to Molly, who was closest.

  ‘Yay, good girl!’ Molly clapped her hands and caught her before she could fall. ‘You’re so clever! Now go to Daddy!’

  ‘Dadada.’ Delphi beamed and tottered over to Dex, who lifted her into his arms and covered her cheeks with kisses.

  ‘Hello, hello, beautiful. Come and sit with me and let’s get painted, eh?’

  ‘Dada.’ Balancing on his left leg, Delphi clutched his face and planted a dribbly kiss on his face, and Molly’s heart melted. They loved each other so much. Putting down her paintbrush, she took a few quick photos to help her during the times when Delphi wasn’t in the mood to stay still.

  But for the next few minutes Delphi obligingly stayed where she was, settling on Dex’s lap and playing with his watch. Working fast, Molly focused on the curve of her cheek, the inquisitive angle of her head and the way the corners of her mouth lifted with delight when she managed to open the clasp on the watch strap.

  She was also tinglingly super-aware that while she was concentrating on Delphi, Dex was in turn watching her, his attention unwavering. Each time she flicked a glance in his direction and found his gaze still upon her, adrenalin whooshed through her veins.

  Dry-mouthed, Molly wiped the brush with a turps-soaked cloth then dried it on the leg of her jeans. If this carried on, completing the portrait was going to be like some kind of emotional torture . . . painting his face while longing to touch it with her fingers . . . oh God, how had she managed to land herself in a situation like this?

  A bee buzzed lazily around Delphi’s bare feet and Dex brushed it away. Delphi gave him back his watch and began playing with the daisy-shaped metal fasteners on her turquoise dungarees instead.

  ‘I haven’t seen the dungarees before.’ Desperate to change the subject away from the torment that was going on in her head, Molly said, ‘Are they new?’

  He nodded. ‘Amanda bought them for her.’

  Oh. Shrivel.

  ‘And she bought the T-shirt too. Didn’t she?’ Pointing to the yellow T-shirt sporting a lime-green dragon on the front, Dex said to Delphi, ‘It was a present, wasn’t it? From Amanda.’

  Delphi, her dark eyes shining and her bare feet kicking happily against his knee, said, ‘A-mama.’

  Engulfed with sadness, Molly had to look away. Because this was the reason she couldn’t interfere. Her feelings towards Dex may have changed – OK, had changed, practically hurtling out of control – but there was nothing she could do about it, not now she knew the truth about Amanda.

  And it was all thanks to Tina, George’s mother, that she’d found out. Elaborating on the serendipity of the pairing of Amanda and Dex, Tina had confided, ‘My friend Kaye told me. She’s been trying for a baby for ages without any luck. Anyway, she had tests done at the hospital and it turned out she’s got this problem with her womb that means she can’t get pregnant. So Kaye was pretty upset about it, obviously, and burst into tears in the doctor’s surgery, and it was Dr Carr she was seeing.’

  ‘Right.’ Molly’s throat constricted at the mention of Amanda’s name; without even knowing what Tina might be about to say, she had a premonition it wasn’t going to be good news.

  ‘And Dr Carr – Amanda – was so brilliant. She gave Kaye the hugest hug. Then she said she knew how she felt because she had the same thing wrong with her. The exact same problem.’ Tina’s eyes shone with compassion at the thought of it. ‘I mean, wasn’t it nice of her to share that? Kaye said she was so kind, it really made her feel better. And when you think about it, that’s why it’s so fantastic that Amanda and Dex have got together. She wants children and can’t have them . . . and Dex already has Delphi! You can’t ask for a happier ending than that, can you? It couldn’t be more perfect if it tried!’

  Hmm, for some people perhaps . . .

  Dragged back to the present, Molly realised Dex had just said something and was waiting for an answer. ‘Sorry, what was that?’

  ‘I don’t know, you artistic types.’ He shook his head with amusement. ‘So wrapped up in your work, it’s like you’re in another world.’

  Molly wished she was in another world; this one was rubbish. ‘I know, sorry. I’m listening now. Say it again.’

  ‘You looked a bit sad, that’s all. I wondered what you were thinking.’

  Why did men only ever ask you that question when you couldn’t give them an honest answer? Molly wished she could tell Dex that what she was really wondering right now was did he know his girlfriend couldn’t have children of her own? But if Amanda hadn’t told him . . . well, there was no way in the world she could. Seeing as doctors weren’t allowed to blab about their patients’ medical conditions, presumably the reverse also applied.

  ‘I’m not sad. Just concentrating.’ Molly sat back and playfully waggled her paintbrush at Delphi to make her smile. ‘Like a true artist.’

  Never mind that Tina and Kaye had both breached the confidentiality agreement, she wasn’t going to be the one to further spread the news.

  Because, knowing her luck, she’d definitely be the one who ended up in court.

  Chapter 51

  The doorbell rang at seven o’clock and Frankie hurried out of the kitchen to answer it. She was here. The plan she’d never imagined would work out was coming together at last. Well, hopefully it was.

  As she pulled open the front door, the wide brim of the straw hat was raised and the huge dark glasses removed. Frankie saw the face of her visitor and gasped.

  Oh my goodness . . .

  ‘Well? What do you think?’ Hope managed a nervous smile and said, ‘Will I do?’

  Four days ago, Frankie had taken the call. After weeks of struggling to boost her own confidence and pluck up the courage to take action, Hope had announced, ‘Right, it’s time, I’m going to do it,’ and they’d arranged for it to happen today.

  ‘Come along in. You look . . . well, I hardly recognised you!’ Ushering her inside, Frankie wondered how best to handle this. In an effort to impress, Hope had undergone a bit of a makeover. And she wasn’t at all sure it was in her best interests.

  ‘I know.’ Her tone self-deprecating, Hope said, ‘Quite a difference, eh? I did what you said and went to the hairdresser. For the first time in I don’t know how many years!’

  The hair was fine, the hair was actually an improvement. Trimmed into shape, flatteringly coloured and subjected to lashings of deep-conditioning treatment, it was lovely. Similarly, the clothes were perfectly acceptable, understated but flattering pale blue layers of cotton top, overshirt and three-quarter-length skirt. A manicure and pedicure had also been carried out, and finished with a somewhat startling shade of flamingo pink polish.

  Seeing her looking at them, Hope waggled her hands. ‘And I had my nails done! They have a girl working at the hair place who does them!’

  ‘Great,’ said Frankie, because it wasn’t the nails that were the problem either. Oh Lord, how was she going to say this?

  ‘And then when I told them I was trying to make myself look better, less decrepit, they insisted on doing my face for me too! Such sweet girls, so enthusiastic and keen to help.’

  They’d definitely been enthusiastic. Faintly horrified by the amount of make-up they’d managed to slather on Hope’s face, Frankie took in the details: heavy matte foundation, powder, blusher, awful shimmering highlighter, too-dark lipliner, too-bright lipstick, eyeshadows, eyebrow pencil, kohl, mascara . . .

  Finally she said, ‘And . . . how do you think you look?’

  ‘Me? Oh well, I’m a walking disaster when it comes to make-up. Completely hopeless! I haven’t worn any since we made the last episode of the show! I always used to think it made me look weird, but everyone else kept telling me it was fine. So now, all these years later, it’s bound to feel strange.’ Hope nodded with determination. ‘It’s just a question of getting used to it. When the girls finished with me
this afternoon they said I looked gorgeous, bless their hearts.’

  Whereas in reality she looked like a small middle-aged drag queen channelling Katie Price. Hesitantly Frankie said, ‘I just wonder if maybe we should tone it down, perhaps wipe some of it off . . .’

  ‘Ooh no, I couldn’t do that, no way! Those poor girls worked so hard, it took them ages to get me looking like this. Anyway, the whole point of wearing make-up is to boost my confidence,’ Hope concluded brightly. ‘Without it, I’d be all the way back to square one!’

  Yikes. The make-up hadn’t been badly applied, there was simply way too much of it. Frankie realised she was going to have to let her go out wearing it and just hope for the best.

  ‘OK. Well, are you ready?’

  ‘No.’ Hope took an audible breath. ‘But I’m going to do it anyway.’

  ‘Come on.’ Picking up her own RayBans and praying this wasn’t all about to go horribly wrong, Frankie said, ‘Let’s go.’

  Evening sunlight dappled through the branches of the trees as they made their way down to the river. Hope was glad to have Frankie with her, providing emotional support and showing her the way.

  But they were here now. The emotional support was about to run out. As they reached the water’s edge, Frankie pointed to the curve in the narrow path and said in a low voice, ‘Round the next bend, then you’ll see the caravan in the clearing ahead of you.’

  ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’ Hope’s mouth was bone-dry; if anyone wanted to experience something a million times worse than stage fright, all they had to do was try this.

  ‘You’ll be fine. Take those off.’

  Hope dutifully removed the floppy-brimmed straw hat and huge dark glasses she’d worn as they’d made their way down here.

  Frankie held out a hand. ‘Shall I take them home with me?’

  ‘No.’ Was she mad? If Stefan rejected her outright, she was going to need her disguise more than ever.

  ‘OK. Good luck.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Hope watched as Frankie turned and walked back the way they’d come. This was exactly how it had felt being dropped off at boarding school at the age of eleven.