by Jill Mansell
Penny said, ‘Where are you?’
‘In Regent’s Park.’
‘Oh, lovely! Whereabouts?’
‘Down by the lake, just next to the bandstand.’ He knew she’d knew where he meant; it had been one of their favourite walks when they’d come here together.
She sounded as if she were smiling. ‘Found any four-leaf clovers yet?’
‘I haven’t been looking.’
‘Oh Wyatt, you should. Any dancing going on?’ The last time they’d visited, a joyously impromptu salsa party had been in progress and they had been persuaded to join in.
‘Not right now.’ Wyatt searched the area for something else he could tell her about. ‘But there’s a squirrel investigating an apple core, and a little kid taking a pee up against the steps of the bandstand. Sorry, not very glamorous.’
‘Hey, I’m up here in Walsall, waiting at a bus stop between a closed-down ironmonger’s and a bargain booze shop. The bins haven’t been collected and it’s piddling down with rain,’ Penny continued solemnly. ‘So don’t talk to me about glamour.’
He laughed. ‘This is why I miss you.’
‘And I’ve missed hearing your laugh. I’m feeling better already. I’m so glad we’re talking again.’
‘Does your mum think I’m a prize idiot?’ He’d only met Penny’s mother once, but they’d got on well.
‘Are you kidding? Mum thinks I’m the idiot for turning you down, what with you being so mega-loaded. But you can’t go ahead and marry someone just because they’re rich, can you?’
‘Clearly not.’ Amazingly, Wyatt realised, he was able to joke about it. Being friends with Penny was fifty times more important than being engaged to her.
Speaking of engaged . . . ‘Hey, they found the ring, by the way.’
‘What ring?’
Damn, he’d dreamt he’d told her, but of course in real life she had no idea.
‘Sorry, I forgot you didn’t know. I lost the engagement ring after you left the chateau. But it turned up a few days ago.’
‘Oh no, you must have been frantic! The one with the diamond? Did it cost much?’
She’d barely noticed the ring when he’d been trying to propose to her. Wyatt said, ‘Not too much,’ because she would only have a belated panic attack if he told her the truth. The next moment, he was struck by an idea that felt like the answer to everything. ‘It’s in Cornwall at the moment. I said I’d call in and pick it up when I go down there for Bella and Max’s wedding.’
‘Of course, they’re getting married in St Ives.’ Penny had been invited too, as his plus one.
‘I was going to cancel.’ He paused. ‘Turning up on my own didn’t seem like such a great idea.’
‘Oh.’ She sounded sympathetic. ‘But it’d be a shame to miss it. I mean, Max is one of your oldest friends.’
‘I know. And I am going to go. It’s just going to feel a bit weird being on my own when everyone else is part of a couple. But I can do it, I’ll be fine.’ He wanted to ask her, but how could he? And why would she even want to go? It was a terrible idea.
The silence echoed between them for a couple of seconds, then Penny said cautiously, ‘Wyatt? Can we be friends now? Like, really good, proper friends?’
‘I would be so happy if we could.’ As he said it, he felt his heart lift.
‘Well how about if I came with you to the wedding? We could go together, just as good friends. Would that be a nice idea, d’you think? Or it’s fine if you’d rather not.’
Tears of relief brimmed in Wyatt’s eyes. He nodded, and swallowed hard. ‘That would be . . . Yes, I’d like that. Very much. It’d be great.’
‘Let’s do it, then. Have you booked anywhere to stay yet?’
‘I haven’t, but I will, I’ll get onto it today.’ Hastily he added, ‘Separate rooms, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Penny echoed down the line.
‘Separate hotels if you want.’
She laughed. ‘No need for that.’
‘I’m so glad I called you.’ He dodged out of the way as a skateboarder whooshed past. ‘I’ve missed hearing your voice, spending time with you.’
‘Oh Wyatt,’ Penny sighed, ‘hasn’t it just been miserable? I’ve missed our chats so much too.’
Chapter 17
‘. . . and that’s when all six of us ended up dancing naked at midnight in the Trevi Fountain.’
Lainey was driving Richard back from his appearance at a literary festival in Dorset. His event had gone well; the audience had shrieked with laughter at his scurrilous anecdotes and the queue for signed copies of his autobiography had snaked pleasingly out of and all around the huge white marquee. Knowing his fondness for interesting gins, several of his admirers had brought bottles along with them to give him; these were currently clanking around in a bag on the back seat of the car while he took sips from a miniature and regaled Lainey with stories the publisher hadn’t dared to let him include in the book.
They were certainly making the journey fly by.
‘But you said there was a paparazzo taking photos, so what happened next?’ She was intrigued.
‘Alicia beckoned him over and offered him a swig of champagne from the bottle she was holding. Couldn’t resist it, could he? I mean, who could? She was a goddess.’ Richard chuckled at the memory. ‘When he reached the side of the fountain, she pretended to lose her balance and grabbed hold of his arm. Clever girl,’ he said happily. ‘She managed to pull him and his camera into the water with her. I opened the back of the camera and exposed the film, all sorted. Alicia gave him a kiss he wouldn’t forget in a hurry to make up for it and we all lived happily ever after. Ah, they were the good old days when you could get away with anything. Well, pretty much.’
Lainey checked the fuel gauge. ‘I need to stop for petrol.’
‘No problem. I’ll grab us a couple of coffees to keep us going. Did I ever tell you about the time I had coffee with Peter O’Toole at the casino in Monte Carlo? Well, we’d planned to stick to coffee but somehow we managed to end up on a yacht that was heading down to Morocco, and the owner had a pair of lion cubs on board . . .’
By the time Lainey had finished filling up the car, Richard had collected the coffees and was back in the passenger seat, resting the drinks on a copy of his book and waving at an enthralled couple in a Fiat Punto who’d pulled up at the next pump.
It wasn’t until they were several miles down the road that Lainey looked in the rear-view mirror. ‘Richard, what happened to the other bag on the back seat?’
‘The bottles of gin? They’re still there.’
‘Not that bag. The one containing the cards.’
‘Ah, those.’ His careless shrug told her what was about to come. ‘I checked through them, then disposed of them responsibly in the bin back at the petrol station.’
‘Oh Richard!’
‘Now listen, darling, isn’t it better than putting things into recycling boxes if people are going to go through them? This way, the bag’s stuffed into the bottom of a bin miles from home. I thought you’d be delighted with me for being so thoughtful. I took notice of what you said!’
Lainey sighed, because he was making himself sound so reasonable. The other morning, as she’d been driving out through the gates of Menhenick House to take India and Violet to school, they’d spotted Pauline lurking near the recycling boxes waiting on the pavement for collection. Lainey herself was the one who’d mentioned it to Richard, warning him that he probably shouldn’t put personal items in the boxes.
So he’d done as he was told, which meant she wasn’t allowed to be cross with him now.
Oh, but she just knew he’d used it as an excuse not to reply to anything that might need replying to.
‘Did you read all the cards?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course.’ He looked outraged at the very idea that he might not have done. Which of course meant he hadn’t.
‘What abo
ut the one Pauline gave you?’ It had had Top Secret written on the outside of the envelope, and Pauline had explained that she was passing it on for a friend who’d been unable to make it along to today’s event, but had gone on to stress how vitally important it was that Richard read it.
‘It was probably a letter to let me know that today is the anniversary of the first time she bought a copy of the Radio Times with a photo of me on the cover.’
‘So you’ve binned it.’ Lainey tutted.
‘But in a thoughtful way, in a petrol station sixty miles from St Carys, so Pauline will never know.’ In Richard’s eyes, he was a paragon of virtue, an absolute hero.
‘You’re a bad man.’
He laughed. ‘If you think I’m bad now, you should have seen me when I was thirty.’
Silence fell for a few minutes and Lainey assumed he’d dozed off, but when she glanced over, she saw that he was looking at the copy of his autobiography on his lap, lying open now at the page containing a glossy photograph of himself with his late son. The photo had been taken in a garden somewhere Lainey didn’t recognise, back when Tony was in his late thirties and still healthy, and the connection between the two handsome men was striking. They were laughing together, clearly revelling in each other’s company, and the camera had caught them just as Richard was gesturing towards Tony with his hand, as if to say, ‘Look at you, aren’t you amazing? I’m your father and I couldn’t be prouder of you if I tried.’
Now, as Richard gently stroked his fingertips over his son’s photograph, she glimpsed another side of the ever-cheerful actor. Quietly she said, ‘You must miss him so much.’
Richard nodded. ‘Oh yes. Every hour of every day.’ He paused. ‘I still can’t believe an old bastard like me managed to produce such a wonderful human being. I know he’s gone, but sometimes I dream that he’s still alive, you know?’
Lainey murmured, ‘I know.’ It had happened to her too, in the first years after losing her mum.
‘Sorry, of course you do. Isn’t it incredible when it happens? It’s like he’s come back to me and it’s the best feeling in the world.’ Another pause. ‘And then you wake up and bam, it hits you all over again that he’s gone. My beautiful boy. I loved him more than life itself. If I’d had the chance, I would’ve swapped places with him in an instant.’
‘Grief is the price we pay for love,’ said Lainey, blinking away a tear.
‘It certainly is. Sorry, darling, this won’t do at all, will it?’ Gathering himself, Richard whisked a yellow silk handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. ‘Let’s talk about something more cheerful. If you’re crying too much to see where you’re driving, we’re both going to end up dead.’ A glimmer of the old irreverent smile lifted the corners of his mouth. ‘And if that happens, an awful lot of women are going to be absolutely furious with you.’
They were almost home when Lainey’s phone beeped with a text. ‘Can you read it for me?’ she said.
‘Sure it isn’t going to be saucy?’
‘I’m completely sure.’ Such was the current absence of opportunities for sauciness in her life.
‘It’s from Kit.’ He took his reading spectacles out of the top pocket of his blue blazer. ‘Sure he isn’t going to be saying something terrible about me?’
‘Actually, he might. Brace yourself.’
But the text was brief and to the point. In Shakespearean tones Richard read aloud: ‘“I’ve volunteered you for a job, because you’ll be better at it than me. Don’t be cross, it’ll be fun! And Seth says thanks, you’re a lifesaver. AGAIN.”’
‘Cryptic,’ said Lainey.
‘Want to stop and call him, find out what’s going on?’
‘No, we’re nearly there.’ She didn’t want Richard to be watching her this closely while she found out just how she was going to be saving Seth’s life.
Although there probably wasn’t going to be actual mouth-to-mouth resuscitation involved. Unfortunately.
‘Thanks for helping out,’ said Seth when they entered the kitchen. ‘I wouldn’t have asked if I hadn’t been desperate.’
‘I don’t know what I’ve agreed to yet.’ Lainey couldn’t help it; the sight of him looking so frazzled, with that lock of dark hair falling over his forehead and his white shirt untucked, was having a bit of an effect on her.
‘Two helpers were on their way to start working for one of our clients this afternoon when they came off their motorbike. They called me from the hospital two hours ago; between them they have a fractured femur, seven broken ribs, a snapped collarbone, three broken fingers and one dislocated ankle.’
‘Oh what? That’s awful. Poor things!’
‘Well, yes.’ Seth raked back his ruffled hair. ‘And obviously I’m glad they’re still alive, but I then spent the next hour on the phone trying to book last-minute replacements and it was completely impossible. I thought I was going to have to call Grace and tell her the holiday was cancelled, then Kit overheard me on the phone and suggested you for the job.’
‘What kind of job?’ Maybe it was something fantastic, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. A luxurious world cruise, perhaps, or a visit to all the best theme parks in Florida, or a month on the beach in Bali . . .
‘It’s four days in a house on the outskirts of Bristol,’ said Seth.
Lainey blinked. Not quite the glamour quotient she’d been anticipating.
‘Grace is a single mother of three young autistic boys,’ he continued. ‘She takes them for four days every year to stay in her sister’s house while her sister goes to visit a friend in London. The boys have their particular routines and need careful handling, and they’ve spent months looking forward to this break. But Grace can’t manage them on her own; it’s too much for her. She has a bit of help at home, but the trip to Bristol was arranged to happen while the helper’s away on holiday in Ibiza. Every last detail has been planned. You have an enhanced DBS, yes?’
He was referring to the Disclosure and Barring Service certificate; the enhanced version was a requirement when working with vulnerable adults and all children. Lainey nodded and glanced across at Kit, who’d just appeared in the kitchen doorway; he was looking shamefaced.
‘We both have them,’ she told Seth.
‘But you’re so much better at that stuff than me,’ Kit said. ‘You can deal with anything, nothing bothers you.’
Nappies were what he was talking about. Nappy-changing and bottom-wiping and poo. Kit was more the sporty, activity type. Lainey raised an eyebrow to let him know she knew exactly why he hadn’t volunteered himself for the job.
On the defensive now, Kit said, ‘I know, but it’s true. You’re brilliant with kids.’
Seth turned back to Lainey. ‘You will do it, won’t you? You’re not going to refuse?’
Did she have a choice? No. Was she looking forward to it? Not really. Would she make sure Kit understood that he owed her a massive favour in return for having thrown her under this metaphorical bus? Oh definitely.
And the more poo she had to clean up, the bigger the favour was going to be.
‘Of course I’m not going to refuse. It’s fine. When do I have to go? Tonight?’
Seth was visibly relieved. ‘Thanks. And no, you can relax for the rest of this evening. We’ll leave here first thing tomorrow.’
‘We?’
The way Seth looked at her caused her chest to start thudding suddenly, like horses’ hooves racing across wet sand.
‘Sorry, didn’t I say? I’ll be coming along too.’
Chapter 18
‘Look at him, can you believe the favours that man’s done for me over the years?’ Grace was watching as Seth loaded the motley collection of cases into the rented people carrier at just after six the following morning. ‘God knows he doesn’t make any money out of us, but he still insists on arranging everything. And we love him for it, don’t we, boys?’
Lainey, next to her, saw the two older boys nod automatically because it was expec
ted of them. Bay, the youngest at five years old, was non-verbal and sucking the corner of a faded blue blanket. Stevie, aged eight, clutched a carrier bag filled with shopping receipts. Ned, the eldest, was ten years old and busy scribbling with a blue felt-tip pen in an exercise book. All three boys were tall for their age, with white-blonde hair and brown eyes.
‘Are we going now?’ said Ned.
‘Very soon, darling.’
‘Is she coming with us?’
‘Yes, I explained that. Her name’s Lainey, remember? And she and Seth are going to be helping me look after you so we can all have a fantastic time.’
Ned shook his head. ‘I don’t want her looking after us.’
‘But we can’t manage on our own, can we?’ Grace indicated her bad leg and her walking stick. ‘So we need someone else, and Seth found Lainey, and she’s wearing blue because that’s your favourite colour.’
‘Not that kind of blue.’ Ned turned away, distinctly unimpressed.
‘Well if Lainey doesn’t come with us, we’ll all have to stay at home. And that would be a shame, because this is our lovely holiday and we’ve all been looking forward to it, haven’t we?’
Ned rolled his eyes. ‘Fine. So can we go now?’
‘As soon as you’ve had a wee, darling.’
He addressed Lainey without making eye contact. ‘What happened to the other people who were coming with us?’
‘They had an accident,’ Lainey reminded him.
‘Like when we don’t go for a wee before getting in the car?’
‘Not that kind of accident. They came off their motorbike and now they’re in hospital, but they’ll be better soon.’
‘Soon? So they can still come with us to Bristol?’
‘No.’ She shook her head firmly. ‘They can’t.’
‘Was there a lot of blood when they had the accident?’
‘Do you like blood?’
‘No, I hate it. It’s too red.’
‘They were lucky, there wasn’t any blood at all,’ said Lainey. ‘Just a few broken bones.’
‘Did their bones make a noise when they broke? Like, did they go craaaaaa-ckk?’
