It felt strange, though, not to be pulling up outside the family home, and he wondered if he’d ever get used to his parents’ new place.
As he switched off the engine and said a few reassuring words to the dog in the back, he scanned his surroundings, seeing his mother’s touch in the pretty planted tubs and the nodding flowers in the raised beds. The bungalow was freshly painted and everything looked spick and span.
He inhaled deeply. Even from a mile or so inland, he was certain he could smell the sea, and he realised how much he’d missed it. His boyhood had been spent trawling along its shoreline looking for washed-up treasure, or pretending to be a pirate, or snorkelling off the rocks and turning blue with cold then running back to his mother for a dry towel and a flask of hot chocolate. With the mountain range behind the village and the ocean in front of it, he’d had the best of both worlds growing up.
He’d only just unclipped Nell’s harness when his mum flew down the tidy little drive to greet him. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling about eight years old again, and breathed in her familiar scent. Ever since he could remember, she’d smelled of Chanel and baking, with a faint undertone of bleach. His mother had a fetish for bleach; Rex wondered, not for the first time, if she bathed in the stuff. Saying she was house-proud was like saying the Atlantic was big.
A movement caught his eye, and with a muttered oath, he released his mother and shot off down the road after Nell, who’d become fed up of sitting obediently at his feet and had decided to explore.
When he returned, puffing a little, with a chastened Nell in tow, it was to find that Dad had joined his mum on the drive and they were both laughing at him.
‘You’ve got your hands full with that one,’ his mother pointed out, as she linked her arm through his free one to steer him into the bungalow. ‘Fetch Rex’s bag, would you, Dougie,’ she called over her shoulder.
‘Yes, boss,’ his father replied with a wink and a tug at an imaginary forelock.
The comforting smell of hotpot greeted Rex as soon as he stepped into the compact hall.
‘I’ve made you your favourite,’ his mum said, finally letting go of him and stepping back to give him a good once-over. ‘You’ve lost weight,’ she announced accusingly. ‘Haven’t you been eating properly?’
‘No, I haven’t, and yes, I have,’ Rex replied, filling a bowl of water for the dog before opening the door to the garden in case she needed to go out.
‘Well, you look skinnier,’ his mum retorted. ‘Sit down and I’ll dish up. You could do with some more meat on your bones.’
With one eye on the excited Nell as she scuttled from one new scent to another, Rex let his mother spoon out an enormous portion of hotpot and plonk a plate in front of him. There was no way he was going to manage all that, but he was determined to do his best, realising that feeding him was her way of showing how deeply she cared. It wasn’t as though he needed feeding up, he thought. His active lifestyle meant he burned a considerable number of calories, and he was probably in better shape now than he’d ever been, as the way he’d helped bring the ‘casualty’ down off the mountain had proved. His belly was flat, his chest firm and muscled; he wouldn’t describe himself as ‘ripped’, but at least he could wear a pair of bathers in public without feeling too embarrassed.
After he’d made a valiant attempt at finishing his meal, he plucked up the courage to break the news to his parents.
‘Mum, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you,’ he began, before grinding to a halt. How did you tell your parents something like this?
His mum removed his plate and gave him a sharp look, but didn’t say anything.
‘Mum, come and sit down.’ Rex patted the seat of the chair next to his.
‘We already know, son,’ his dad said.
Eh? Rex blinked at his father. ‘You do?’
‘You can’t keep a thing like that quiet in a place like Glenshona, especially with Jules starting to show a few months ago.’
‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’ Rex demanded.
Neither of them would look at him, but his mother did find the courage to say, ‘It’s not the sort of thing we wanted to tell you on the phone, which is why I’ve been nagging you to come back for a visit all these weeks.’
‘Jules called me yesterday and told me.’
‘Oh Rex…’ His mother’s face was a mask of pity.
‘The baby might be mine,’ he blurted.
‘We have heard the rumours.’ She glanced at his father, then back at Rex.
‘Yeah, she told me she was sleeping with both me and Dean before we broke up. She doesn’t actually know who the father is. Apparently we have to wait for it to be born, then Dean and I have to have a paternity test.’
‘Oh love.’ His mother sat down next to him, reaching for his hand. ‘What a mess.’
He shrugged. It was, but there was nothing to be done about it now.
‘What if the baby is yours?’ his mother wanted to know.
‘I’ll do what’s right,’ he said, ‘and try to be a proper father.’
‘Just when you were getting your life back on track, too. It’s lucky you only brought a dog with you,’ his dad said. ‘You had me going on the phone the other day – I thought you’d found yourself a new girlfriend.’
Rex had thought he had too.
Oh God, Leanne… She’d been on his mind the whole journey.
He couldn’t drag her into this – he simply couldn’t.
Chapter 29
There was something wrong with Rex, Leanne sensed it. He’d not responded when she’d sent him a text last night saying she was missing him. And when she’d sent him another one this morning asking if everything was OK, all she’d received was a curt reply saying, Fine. See you when I get back.
He was probably out with his old mates, partying or something, she reasoned, but she had an awful feeling that in returning to his roots, he might be regretting his decision to come to Tanglewood. She just hoped he wasn’t regretting his relationship with her, too.
She decided to try contacting him again. After all, he might simply be busy. Relatives had a habit of demanding your attention, and with Rex being an only child and living so far away from his parents, it was only natural if they wanted him to spend every minute with them.
But surely a quick text to say he was missing her wasn’t too much to ask?
Unless he wasn’t, and it was.
Before she could second-guess herself, she called him.
She could hear a customer in the shop, but she let Mabel deal with them and went into the storeroom for some privacy.
‘Rex? Hi, it’s me, Leanne.’
‘Hi.’
Her heart sank. He didn’t sound at all pleased to hear from her. In fact, he sounded quite put out.
‘How are you?’ she persisted.
‘Good.’
It was like talking to a stranger, and her eyes pricked with the sudden sting of tears. Didn’t she mean anything to him?
‘Can you talk?’ she asked.
‘Not really.’
Ah, maybe that was it. She wouldn’t want to be all lovey-dovey over the phone with her parents in earshot either. ‘How are your mum and dad?’ she asked.
‘Fine.’ A pause. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll give you a call later.’
‘Oh, OK. Bye.’
The phone went dead and Leanne looked at it disbelievingly.
He’d not even said goodbye.
He hadn’t sounded anything like the Rex she was falling in love with, and a tide of jealousy rose up, threatening to swamp her. She had a nasty suspicion that he might have bumped into his ex and wanted to get back together with her.
In the space of a day or two, Leanne had gone from being happy and eager for what the future might hold to being thoroughly miserable.
Budding Stars was down to five contestants now – there were only two more rounds, then the final. She should be excited, but all she felt was numb.
What had got into him?
What had she done wrong?
Chapter 30
Rex ended the call before he said something he would regret, like ‘I love you.’
There was no way he could talk to Leanne, not right now. He needed to get his head around the situation first, to think things through. What if the baby was his? He wanted to be a proper father to him or her; if that meant moving back to Glenshona, then so be it. How could he carry on a relationship with Leanne when he was so far away?
Would it be fair to drag her into all this when he might have the sudden responsibility of a child to consider?
‘I’m going to speak to Jules,’ he said, grabbing his car keys off the table in the hall. ‘Then I’m going to give my so-called friend a piece of my mind.’
‘Do you think that’s wise?’ his mum asked worriedly. ‘Douglas, tell him…’
Rex ignored her. He knew he was being unreasonable, and that his parents were only doing what they thought was best, but he couldn’t help blaming them for not telling him sooner. It was always going to be a shock, whenever he found out, but if they’d told him a few months ago about the rumours floating around, then he would have known the truth sooner and wouldn’t have let things go as far as they had with Leanne.
He’d started to have deep feelings for her; hell, he thought he loved her.
If only his mum and dad had told him about the baby earlier, he wouldn’t be suffering now.
Well, not as much, he conceded. The problems would still be there, the feeling of betrayal, the hurt, the knowledge that his life was going to be irrevocably changed, but at least he wouldn’t have a broken heart to contend with at the same time.
He imagined the look on Leanne’s face after he’d ended the call so abruptly, and his heart ached. He hated himself for doing this to her, but he couldn’t face speaking to her right now, trying to pretend everything was OK when it so clearly wasn’t.
He didn’t bother to get out of his car when he pulled up alongside his old house. A woman with a toddler was digging in the flower beds, the child joining in enthusiastically. He didn’t recognise either of them, and he realised Jules must have sold the place after all.
Dean lived a few streets away, so Rex made his way there. If his former best friend had also moved, then he would simply pay a visit to Dean’s mum to ask her where he was living now.
Dean’s pride and joy – a Golf – was on the drive and Jules’s Fiesta was parked next to it. Rex narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t looking forward to this, not one little bit, but it had to be done.
He probably knocked harder than he needed to, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt like punching someone. Dean would be a good start.
But it was Jules who opened the door; a very pregnant, glowing Jules.
The glow swiftly faded when she saw who was standing on her doorstep. She put a hand on her swollen stomach and Rex’s gaze was immediately drawn to it.
That was possibly his child in there. His! He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.
‘Rex,’ she said.
The word spoke volumes – surprise, fear, regret, defiance. Or was Rex simply reading too much into it?
‘Hello, Jules.’ His own voice was flat and hard. ‘Is Dean in?’
‘No. Football.’
Dean loved his football, Rex remembered bizarrely, recalling how a group of them used to kick a ball around when they were kids, pretending to be this player or that. It all seemed such a long time ago now.
Jules backed away from the open door. ‘You’d better come in.’
He agreed. He had no intention of airing his dirty laundry in front of the prying eyes and ears of Glenshona. The village would know about this visit soon enough, but he refused to add further grist to the gossip mill.
Dean’s house showed evidence of a feminine touch. Rex recognised a few pieces from the house he and Jules had shared – the mirror above the fireplace, the scatter cushions on the leather sofa. He could even remember buying them with her, and the memory stabbed at him.
He didn’t want her back, he didn’t actually want anything to do with her, but the thought of his child being brought up in this house with one of his best mates playing dad made him feel physically sick.
‘It’s a mess, I know—’ Jules began, but recoiled when Rex all but growled at her.
‘You can say that again.’
She lowered her bulk into a chair, using her hands to support her weight, and as she sat down, he noticed how swollen her ankles were.
She saw him looking. ‘Being pregnant isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,’ she said.
‘You should have thought of that before you shagged my best mate,’ Rex retorted, then immediately wished he hadn’t as he saw her shrink back as though she’d been slapped. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s the shock. You should have told me sooner.’
‘You’re right, I should have done. You had every right to know, but I was so confused.’ She hesitated. ‘I still am.’ Another pause. ‘For a while, I thought about pretending it was Dean’s. No one would ever know. But I couldn’t live with myself. Dean says he’ll love the baby no matter whose it is, and I know he’ll be a good father, but the longer it went on, the more I realised it would be wrong not to tell you. You, Dean and the baby all deserve to know the truth.’
‘But you were already three months pregnant when you left me, and you didn’t think to mention it then?’
She stared at the pale grey carpet. ‘I only found out the day before we split up.’
‘You still should have told me.’
‘Yes, I should have, but I didn’t want you to think we were going to get back together just because there was a baby involved.’
‘You must have been sleeping with Dean for ages before you gave me the elbow,’ Rex said conversationally, but it didn’t make him feel any better when he saw the stricken look on his ex-girlfriend’s face.
‘Don’t start,’ she warned. ‘It’s not good for the baby.’
Rex rolled his eyes. ‘What isn’t good for the baby is having a mother who doesn’t know who the father is,’ he retorted.
‘Dean will be his father.’
‘His? The baby’s a boy?’
She nodded.
Oh my God, Rex thought. A son. It took a moment for the idea to sink in. This was real. He was going to be a father.
Or not.
Jules was struggling to her feet, and automatically he stepped forward to help her, but she brushed his hand away.
‘Whoever Lyall’s biological father is, Dean will be his dad,’ she said firmly. ‘But so will you – if he’s yours, and you want to be.’
Who the hell is Lyall? was Rex’s first thought, quickly followed by the realisation that Jules meant the baby. She had already given his child a name, and not one he had helped choose either. He felt oddly cheated, and more than a little sad.
So this was how it would be. If the child was his, he’d have little say in his upbringing. All he would be able to do was provide for Lyall financially, and beg as many visits as Jules was willing to allow.
He already knew it wasn’t going to be nearly enough.
‘I want to be part of Lyall’s life,’ he said. ‘If he’s mine, I want to be a real father to him.’
‘You can be as much of a dad to him as you want; you can be as involved as you want.’ She let out a small gasp and clutched her stomach. ‘He’s kicking. Do you want to feel it?’
Rex bit his lip. Did he?
This was so new, so surreal, but if this baby was indeed his, he knew he’d regret not taking this opportunity. He nodded.
Jules caught hold of his hand and placed it on her swollen tummy.
When he felt the baby move, Rex was filled with a sense of wonder, and a sudden desperate sorrow that it wasn’t Leanne he was sharing this magical moment with.
Oh God, what a sodding mess.
Chapter 31
Leanne had never set f
oot inside Moira’s wedding shop before; in fact, as she’d told Stevie, she had more or less forgotten it existed. As she trotted underneath the old archway and into the little cobbled square beyond, she was expecting something dusty, old-fashioned and rather run-down.
She was in for a delightful surprise.
The square itself was tiny, with just a couple of cottages and the wedding shop, which had been converted from an old stable block. The archway had been where the horses and carriages had ridden through after they’d delivered well-to-do ladies and gentlemen to the public house at the front.
The pub had long gone, although the building remained, having been transformed into a quaint antique shop filled with the most wonderful things; there was also a shop selling hand-made soaps, candles and other gorgeously scented items, and a beautician’s, which was a new addition to the village. Leanne hadn’t tried it out herself, but a few of her customers had, and had recommended it. Maybe she’d treat herself before the wedding, have one of those facials she’d been harping on about.
She gazed with a critical eye at the little window boxes and the pots blooming with spring flowers standing next to each cottage door. It all looked charming.
Moira Carrington’s shop was tiny but lovely. There was a plush seating area just as you walked in, with squashy armchairs and a sofa, a coffee table set with little china cups and saucers and a vase of fresh flowers, and not a dress in sight.
Stevie and her friend Karen were already enjoying a cup of tea and discussing tiaras.
Stevie stood up to give Leanne a hug, then resumed her seat, leaned back and narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you OK?’
The Tanglewood Flower Shop Page 15
