by Jill Mansell
Chapter 2
At midnight, Lainey climbed out of bed and went over to the window. From her tiny room high up in the south-facing turret, she had a view over the wooded border of the grounds on that side of the chateau, and she could definitely hear noises. Something was happening out there.
Penny had left; she would be back in the UK by now. Biddy had instructed Kit to drive her to Charles de Gaulle airport outside Paris. The young woman had been shaken and upset by the unexpected turn the day had taken. Escaping the wrath of Wyatt’s furious relatives had been her number one priority.
When Bill and Lainey had finally ventured into the crypt, they’d found Wyatt swigging from the bottle of vintage Bollinger. The soundtrack he’d recorded, of himself singing that his heart would go on, had still been playing. The dozens of tea lights were still flickering, the helium balloons still bobbing in the cool air.
“Well, that went well.” He had wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Lucky I didn’t make a complete idiot of myself, eh?”
That had been six hours ago. They’d taken him back to his family and tried to reassure him that it really wasn’t the end of the world. Lainey had assumed that, from that point on, he would be consoled and taken care of by his parents and brothers, but it was definitely Wyatt she could see down there, weaving his way across the lawn.
And he was on his own, heading for the trees.
It was a moonlit night; otherwise, she might not have been able to identify him.
She watched as he paused, swaying visibly, and gazed up at one of the largest trees. What was he doing? Searching for squirrels? Or seeking out a branch sturdy enough to take his weight should he decide to—
No, don’t even think it; of course he wouldn’t do something so drastic.
But once the possibility had occurred to her, how could she ignore it? Pulling on a pair of shorts and her pink denim jacket to cover her thin nighttime T-shirt, Lainey hurried down the many flights of stone steps and let herself out through the side door.
Wyatt was sitting on the grass by the time she reached him. He wasn’t looking his best.
“Hi.” Lainey’s heart went out to him. “How are you doing?”
“Never better. Really, best day of my life.” He shook his head, pulled a balled-up handkerchief from his trouser pocket, and roughly wiped the pouches beneath his eyes. “I’m not crying, OK? It’s hay fever. Oh man, what a nightmare.”
It wasn’t hay fever. Lainey lowered herself to the ground next to him. “I’m so sorry. It’s a rotten thing to happen.”
“You know what, though? I’m a nice guy. A really nice guy. And loaded too. I mean, I’d have given that girl everything she wanted. She’d have had a great life with me. Why would she turn down an offer like that?”
“I don’t know, but isn’t it a good thing she did?”
“And you expect me to say yes to that?” Wyatt stared at her. “Are you out of your mind?”
“I mean, in the long term. Because you’re right,” Lainey told him. “You are a catch. Lots of girls would be only too delighted to go ahead and marry you, because they’d know they could bail out six months later and walk away with more money than they could ever earn. And Penny could have done that too, but she didn’t. She did the decent thing. So at least you know she wasn’t a gold digger.”
Belatedly, it occurred to her that this just made it worse.
“I already knew she wasn’t like that,” Wyatt retorted. “It was why I wanted to marry her in the first place.” He threw down the handkerchief and raked both hands through his hair, rocking back and forth with frustration. “And now I’ve been publicly dumped. I’m going to be a complete laughingstock. Just wait till everyone at work gets to hear about this.”
“But they don’t have to know! You can ask your family not to say anything. They’re on your side,” Lainey reminded him. “They love you. If they don’t breathe a word, how’s anyone else going to find out? You can just tell your friends at work that things didn’t work out between you and Penny and the two of you broke up.”
“How’s anyone else going to find out?” Wyatt gave a snort of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? I have three brothers who can’t wait to tell the world what a total loser I am.” He rose clumsily to his feet. “And they’d be right.”
“You aren’t a loser.”
“I am. I’m a joke.” He was squeezing his eyes shut now, shaking his head. “I’ve never had any luck with girls. All I’ve ever wanted to do is fit in, find someone my mom would like, then get engaged and settle down.”
“But loads of us are like that. I never have any luck with boys,” Lainey exclaimed. “Honestly, I’m a walking disaster, always have been. Every single time, I fall for someone I think is amazing, and then he turns out to be just as rubbish as the rest of them.” She didn’t tell him about gorgeous Anton, who was on course to reverse the pattern and bring her some much-needed happiness at long last. Poor Wyatt, there was no need to rub his nose in it.
“You’re a good person. You’re trying to make me feel better.” He eyed her blearily. “And guess what? It isn’t working. But it’s nice of you to try.”
“You should get to bed,” Lainey said gently.
To her relief, he nodded. “I guess I should.”
Whoops! He wasn’t too steady on his feet. Lainey grabbed the crumpled handkerchief he’d left on the grass and stuffed it into her jacket pocket, then held out her hand to grab him and keep him vaguely vertical.
“I just wanted to get married.” He mumbled the words brokenly. “Is that too much to ask?”
Poor Wyatt, what a terrible day he’d had. Still supporting his swaying body, Lainey said, “It’ll happen one day. You’ll get over this, I promise.”
* * *
A thousand kilometers away, in St. Carys, Majella put down her pen and finished her glass of rioja. There it was then. For better or worse, she’d done the rewrite.
This evening’s first attempt, on her laptop, had been a disaster. Then, remembering Seth’s advice, she’d found herself a felt-tip pen and writing pad and curled up on the violet sofa in the living room. Casting aside the stiff, official advertising language used by the agency, she had written as if she were chatting away to the kind of people she would love to employ.
The ad now said:
Hello! Amazing couple required—could it be you?
We live in a gorgeous beachfront home in north Cornwall. We’re a happy but untidy family who need taking in hand. Are you organized, energetic, and delightful to have around? Would you like to restore order from chaos and look after us?
Must love cats, dogs, teenagers, and the occasional tricky geriatric. You’ll have your own flat, use of a half-decent car, and flexible hours.
So what do you think? Would you be our Mary Poppins…and Bert? Come on, give us a go. It’ll be hard work, but lots of fun too, we promise!
Having read through it again, Majella took a photo of what she’d written and emailed it to Seth.
He replied a minute later: So much better. Well done. X
Succinct and to the point, as always.
Majella sent a second message: Should I mention Richard, do you think?
This time the reply was almost instantaneous: God, definitely not.
* * *
The next morning, a drastically hungover Wyatt and the rest of his family departed for the airport in a small fleet of limousines.
“I feel so sorry for him,” Lainey told Kit as they washed up after breakfast. Seven hours later, she was feeling even sorrier, but this time it was for herself.
Bill and Biddy had gathered everyone in the office. The only other guests, a strapping German couple, were currently out on a day trip to La Rochelle.
Biddy closed the door behind them, and Lainey saw that her eyes were red-rimmed. In that moment, she knew what was a
bout to happen.
“We’ve run out of money.” Bill didn’t beat around the bush. “I mean, we’ve spent everything we had, and everything we borrowed on top of that. I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of the line, folks. We’re going to have to let you go.”
The bookings had thinned right out, he went on to explain, although they’d already guessed as much. At midday, a bachelorette party of twenty had canceled their imminent stay, and, of course, Wyatt’s extremely lucrative summer wedding was now off the cards too. As an absolute final straw, another section of floor had collapsed in the north tower, and an ominous crack had appeared in the ceiling in the cavernous drawing room.
There was nothing more they could do, Bill continued with resignation. Their long-held dream had failed, and the chateau was going on the market; hopefully, someone with deeper pockets would take it off their hands and enable them to pay off the considerable amount of money they owed the bank.
“We can pay you up until today, but that’s it. I’m so sorry.” His shoulders were slumped, and he looked exhausted; after months of desperately trying to keep all the plates spinning, the time had come to let go and give up.
But it wasn’t as if each of them hadn’t been expecting it to happen sooner or later. Lainey’s heart went out to the couple. She stepped forward and hugged first Biddy, then Bill. It wasn’t their fault, after all. They’d spent the last two years working their socks off.
“Thanks, love.” Biddy wiped her eyes. “Oh dear, I feel like we’ve let you all down. I just hope you manage to find yourselves new jobs.”
“Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
Biddy glanced across at Anton on the other side of the room. “Will you two find something together, d’you think?”
Lainey had already asked herself this same question and decided that they would. It made sense. They were pretty much the perfect match, and they were crazy about each other. Why wouldn’t they continue what they’d started so promisingly two months ago?
She gave Biddy a reassuring squeeze. “Of course we will.”
* * *
Heading upstairs ten minutes later, Lainey found Anton packing his belongings into the two suitcases he’d arrived with. As she let herself into the room, he was wrapping up his beloved Victorinox kitchen knives; they had been his parents’ gift to him on his twenty-first birthday and were his absolute pride and joy.
“Hey.” She slipped her arms around his waist. “Are you OK?”
“Not so bad.” He gave her a brief kiss.
“What happens now? Any ideas, or is it too soon?”
“No definite plan.” He shrugged and carefully wrapped the final knife in soft white cotton. “I’m going to head south—Cannes, Antibes, maybe Saint-Tropez. See what turns up.”
“Sounds good to me.” Lainey nodded and inhaled the scent of his body. The soft white cotton, she realized, was one of the chateau’s pillowcases.
“How about you?” said Anton, and she smiled knowingly.
“Well, I thought I might head south too. I know, what an incredible coincidence! We could go together. How about that?”
“Actually…” Anton hesitated. “I was going to call a friend, see if I could stay with her for a while.”
“Oh.” Her?
“She’s based in Saint-Tropez and knows pretty much everyone, so she’ll be able to put the word out, find me work on one of the yachts, that kind of thing.”
“Oh.” Lainey felt the familiar sensation of her hopes for a happy ending slithering away, like an adder disappearing into undergrowth. “Right, of course. That sounds…brilliant.”
“Hey, you and me, we’ve had fun.” Anton surveyed her with a lopsided grin. “Haven’t we? But it was never going to turn into anything serious, we both knew that. It’s been great, but now it’s time to move on to the next adventure.”
Not to mention the next girlfriend. Ah well, this was the kind of thing you got used to when you had a fatal attraction to pretty boys and were gullible enough to get your hopes up.
Again.
His eyes were roaming over her face and body, probably so he’d be able to remind himself who she was should their paths happen to cross in years to come. The next moment, he hooked his index fingers through her belt and drew her toward the unmade bed, breaking into the kind of playful grin that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. “I’m not leaving for a couple of hours. No reason why we can’t take our time and say goodbye properly.”
Chapter 3
“So did you?” Kit raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Say goodbye properly?”
“No I didn’t. I turned down his most generous offer.” It was the truth, although Lainey was beginning to regret it now.
“Let me guess. You said no so you could feel good about yourself, but you kind of wish you hadn’t.”
Lainey tipped her head back until it was resting against the wall behind her. “I hate how you always know these things.”
He gave her a companionable nudge. “If it were me, I’d be exactly the same. Actually, I wouldn’t. I’d have wanted to say no, but I couldn’t have walked away. So I would’ve given in and gone for it, then felt even more rejected and miserable afterward.”
“I’ve been there too.”
“So you were right to turn him down, even if you are feeling like rubbish right now.”
“Thanks,” said Lainey.
“And you’ll find someone else sooner or later. You know you will,” Kit said kindly.
That sounded familiar. Oh yes, it was pretty much what she’d told poor rejected Wyatt last night.
On the bright side, at least she wasn’t as miserable as Wyatt.
“It isn’t going to happen.” The decision came out of nowhere, like a comet, but as soon as it entered her head, Lainey knew this was what she needed to do. “Not for the rest of the year at any rate. I’m not going to let it.”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Men, boyfriends…” She flapped her hand dismissively. “All that…sex stuff—it’s just so much more hassle than it’s worth. You see someone, you fancy them, you get to really like them so you think about them all the time, and then sooner or later, it all goes tits up and you end up feeling completely rotten until the next one comes along, and the whole stupid circle starts all over again. And if you aren’t upset, it means it was a waste of time anyway, but if you are upset, it’s just the most horrible, empty feeling in the world. So that’s it.” She rose from the bench and gathered together her mismatched cases, because the train was approaching the station. “I’m taking the rest of the year off. From now until Christmas, at the very least, I shall be a man-free zone. Me and the opposite sex are on a break.”
Ooh, that feels quite empowering. Go me!
Kit said mournfully, “Some of us have been on a break since the beginning of the year, even though we didn’t want to be.”
“Ah well, by this time tomorrow, you’ll be back home in London.” Lainey gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “More beautiful boys than you can shake a stick at.”
“Actually, I wasn’t planning on shaking a stick at them,” said Kit.
Biddy had driven them this morning to the Gare d’Orléans. She’d pressed a packed lunch on them to keep them going during the long and tedious journey home. Thirty minutes after boarding the train to Paris, Lainey had finished hers.
“You’re an animal.” Kit shook his head in disbelief.
“I can’t help it. Traveling makes me hungry.” She licked her fingers, brushed baguette crumbs off the front of her sleeveless black top, and neatly folded the paper bags that had contained her food. “I don’t understand how you can not eat yours.”
“Easy. Because six hours from now, I’ll still have mine to look forward to. And you’ll be hungry again.”
“I’m pretty sure in six hours’
time, I’ll have bought some more food.” Lainey’s phone beeped with a message. She read it and groaned.
“Problem?”
“It’s from my dad. He didn’t want to say anything yesterday, and of course I can still stay at his place for a while if I really want to, but his girlfriend’s kids are in the bedrooms, so I’d have to sleep on the sofa, and the boys like to come downstairs at six in the morning to play games on the Xbox before school. So if I’d rather find somewhere else, they’d completely understand.”
Kit grimaced. “Bummer.”
“Pretty much.” She’d only met the two boys once, last Christmas; they were friendly enough but incredibly loud.
“My mum wouldn’t mind you staying with us for a bit if you’re desperate.”
Lainey smiled at him. “I bet your mum’s as lovely as you are.”
“Well, nearly. I mean it, though. You’d be welcome. She’ll try to feed you up too.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Not really,” said Kit. “She’s a shocking cook.”
Lainey intermittently dozed and daydreamed for a while, her head resting against the cool glass of the window. She loved her dad and knew he loved her too, but their lives had diverged following the death of her mum from gastric cancer eight years ago. “I don’t want you wasting your life here, thinking you have to look after me,” he’d said, knowing she wanted to travel and work abroad. “Get yourself out there and see something of the world, love.” So she’d gone ahead and done exactly that. It had felt a bit strange to see her dad moving on, rebuilding his life with a series of girlfriends who were the opposite of her mum. He seemed happy, and of course she was glad about that, but her bedroom had long gone, and with her jobs providing live-in accommodation, it had meant fewer visits to see him and no longer any actual place of her own to call home.
Oh well, never mind. It would happen one day. The dream she’d harbored for years was to save as much money as she could, find a tumbledown property—close to the sea perhaps—and do it up herself, then open it as a bijou but perfect B&B.
Which might be a tad unrealistic, but everyone was allowed to have a dream, weren’t they? Her own business—something that could gradually be built up and expanded—would make use of the knowledge she’d gained while working for other people in the hotel and leisure industries. Caring for her mum during those difficult teenage years might have decimated her school exams and put paid to any plans for university, but she knew she had a good brain, her cooking skills were excellent, and she certainly wasn’t afraid of hard work. She just needed to get enough money together first. And who was to say that twenty years from now, she wouldn’t be running her own boutique hotel?
