A Walk in the Park (29 page)

Happy endings might be thin on the ground but sometimes the most unlikely couples were capable of catching you by surprise.

“Thank goodness you're
here
,” Lara exclaimed, pulling open the front door of Nettie's house and flinging her arms around Harry. “I've been feeling like the world's biggest third wheel! Don and Nettie, honestly, they're like a pair of teenagers.”

“Don't say that,” Nettie protested, emerging from the kitchen. “It's not true. Hello, pet, how are you? Fancy a nice cup of tea and some fruit cake?”

“Later,” said Lara before Harry could open his mouth to reply. “We're going to leave you in peace for a bit. I need to see the hills properly, make sure my favorite places are all still there. We'll be back in a while.”

Harry drove, then parked, and they made their way to the viewing point Lara loved most and had visited hundreds of times over the years. They sat together on a rock and listened to the silence, broken only by the sound of birds wheeling overhead. The air was cold and clear, and below them Derwentwater shone like smoked glass. The sky was white, the tops of the familiar hills dusted with snow. It was all as it should be and Lara felt her shoulders relax, the tension seeping from her body as she savored the sense of peace.

This morning she had driven Don and a carful of belongings up from Bath. He had rented out his house and put most of his things into storage. Tonight she would head back down the M6 without him. Seriously, who would ever have predicted this?

***

Harry had been watching her enjoy the view. Finally, having given her enough time to drink it in, he said, “Are they really behaving like teenagers?”

“Not on the outside. They aren't snogging and groping and twanging each other's knickers. But on the inside… yes, that's exactly how they're feeling.” Lara leaned against him, rubbing her cold hands together because, as ever, it hadn't occurred to her to bring gloves. “It's really sweet. You'll have to keep me updated with how they're getting on.”

“I will.” As ever, Harry had brought a spare pair. He dug in his pockets and passed them over. “Anyway, how're things with you?”

He felt her shrug. “Great. Gigi's happy. I'm going to be in charge of the shop, which is brilliant. Flynn's still seeing Annabel…”

“And? How do you feel about that?” Although Harry could already guess.

“If she was horrible I wouldn't be thrilled. But she isn't,” sighed Lara. “She's really nice and Gigi loves her. So what can I say? It was bound to happen at some stage.” She cuddled up closer and Harry put an arm around her to keep her warm. “Anyway, enough about me. Business still booming, I hear.”

“It is.” Harry nodded. The Enjay effect was still in full flow, although it might start to dry up soon; there was a distinct possibility that by spring his fifteen minutes of fame would be over.

In a way it would be a relief.

“So what was it you wanted to tell me?” said Lara.

It was easier like this, sitting side by side, surrounded by hills and gazing out over the water. Harry cleared his throat. “Well, I know I've always been a bit slow off the mark, but the thing is, I've kind of realized I… I prefer men.”

There, he'd said it. He watched Lara's profile as the words sank in. Finally she turned to look at him.

“You're gay?”

Harry nodded.

“Wow. What d'you mean, you've kind of realized? How long have you known?”

“Not long. A few months. I thought I
might
be.” He tilted his head from side to side. “But like I said, I was a bit slow figuring it out. It was all so confusing. I think some people just grow up knowing this stuff from the word go.” Harry shrugged. “But I swear to God it wasn't like that for me. I just…
didn't
.”

“Oh, Harry.” Lara squeezed his arm. “But you've decided now? You're definitely sure?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, that does explain things.” She was smiling slightly.

Harry nodded in agreement, because this was their secret. “I'm sorry. But I honestly didn't know. When we got married I loved you and I loved Gigi. I wanted to help and I thought maybe we could make it work.”

“I know, me too. And you don't have to apologize. It's just nice to know there was a good reason why it didn't.” She turned and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Harry was touched; at the time he knew their sadly inadequate sex life had hurt her feelings. She'd taken his lack of interest in her personally, had assumed she was to blame. Poor Lara, she'd been a stunning young bride with a husband who wasn't physically interested in her; no wonder her confidence had taken such a knock.

“It was my fault,” he reassured her. “All mine. Not yours.”

“It's nobody's fault. You're gay”—Lara broke into a grin—“not a mass murderer. So what's brought all this on, anyway? Have you met someone? You must have done. Ooh”—her eyes widened—“this is exciting! Who is it? Do I know him?”

Lying to Lara didn't fill him with joy but this time Harry knew he had no other choice. A promise was a promise; it was a secret he'd vowed to take to his grave and that was what he would do.

“You don't know him. And it's over now anyway. Don't worry, I'm not heartbroken,” Harry added as Lara's forehead creased with concern. “But while it lasted it was perfect. And it made me realize what I want from life. So that's… pretty fantastic.”

“Oh, Harry, I'm so happy for you. So is it a secret, or are you going to go public?”

“I'm going to do it. Out and proud,” said Harry. “I've decided.”

“Good for you. You can be a role model. A few people might be a bit funny about it.”

He knew what she meant. Some of the old hill farmers weren't exactly twenty-first century in their opinions. “Never mind them.”

“What about Moira?”

“She'll be fine. She's seeing someone else now. His name's Bernard,” said Harry, “and he runs a vegan guest house in Buttermere. You should see them, they're just perfect for each other.”

“Sweet. Like Nettie always says, there's a lid for every pot. Well, that's good,” said Lara before another thought struck her. “Oh my God, I know who
is
going to be shocked when you tell him.” She pulled a face. “Enjay.”

Harry nodded slowly. “I know, I spoke to him yesterday. He was.”

“Oh no. What did he say?” Prepared to leap to Harry's defense, Lara said fiercely, “Was he vile?”

“No, no.” Out of everyone, Harry knew he could trust Lara to keep such a potentially explosive secret, but he still couldn't do it.

“Are you sure? Because it wouldn't surprise me if he said something mean. And he's such a
lech
.” Lara pawed her hands in imitation. “All the endless groping and flirting… total womanizers like that can be
so
homophobic.”

“Well, he isn't. He was fine about it.” Harry managed to keep his voice steady. “But obviously he doesn't want it to impact on his career. Some of his fans might make comments. So we've agreed he's going to put up a message on his website saying he's just heard my news and he wishes me all the best for the future, but that I'm not scheduled to appear in any future episodes blah blah blah.”

Lara's lip curled. “So basically he doesn't want any more to do with you. Charming.”

“It's OK.” Harry shrugged. “It's his world, his career. I can understand that.”

“Well, you're a nicer person than I am.” She gave him another squeeze. “But then we already knew that.”

“Enjay's all right. I owe him a lot.” How much, she'd never know. “Look what he's done for the business.”

“Hmm, and I bet that's it from now on.” Lara did a
pfsh
of derision. “You won't see him in any more Flying Ducks shirts.”

“Maybe not. But it doesn't matter.” Harry pointed out a curlew wheeling high in the sky above them; it was time to get off the subject. No one else in the world but Enjay and himself would ever know about their brief but perfect relationship. Nothing long-term could ever have come of it, they'd both known that, and certainly no one would ever believe such an unlikely pairing could have happened in the first place, but for as long as it had lasted, it had been life-changing.

They'd been five secret and magical days he would never forget.

A trip to an amateur show being put on at a small local theater wasn't Evie's idea of a top night out, but Bonnie had been given two tickets and had begged her to come along.

“Oh please, Ray's said no and I don't want to go on my own. It'll be fun,” she'd said in her optimistic Bonnie-type way. “You might love it!”

The chances of that were slim, but the tickets had come from a regular customer whose son was directing the play in question. Bonnie couldn't duck out and Evie hadn't had the heart to say no.

And you never knew, it might not be as bad as they'd thought.

Anyway, the theater was filling up fast, which was a good sign. Imagine having to sit there surrounded by empty seats while the poor actors performed to an audience in single figures.

“These seats are quite comfortable,” Bonnie leaned over and whispered in her ear. “If it turns out to be really boring, we can always have a doze. Nobody would notice once all the lights are turned off.”

***

Now where had she heard that voice before? Try as she might, Evie was unable to place it. The actress playing the part of Maria was wearing oversized factory overalls and her blonde hair was bundled into a cap. But she definitely knew her from somewhere… it was driving her mad not being able to figure out the connection. Did she work on the tills at the local supermarket…?

Then another actor strode onto the stage and roared, “What's all this about you having to go home?”

Evie almost leaped out of her seat as if she'd been electrocuted.
Oh
God, oh God, OH MY GOD…

“But, sir, eet eez my children, zey are sick…”

“I don't care how ill they are!” Maria's boss shook his head. “I don't want to hear about your bloody kids!”

“Oh, but p-please, I need to b-be wiz zem.” Maria was wringing her hands in agitation.

“Not my problem.”

“But zey are too szmall… Anya eez only four… I do
anyzing
…”

Evie gazed transfixed at the actors on the stage. This was unbelievable. And everyone else in the audience was just sitting watching the play,
as
if
nothing
out
of
the
ordinary
had
just
happened
.

“Listen to me, we've already been there.” The factory owner dismissed Maria's protests. “The only thing I want from you is a proper day's work. If you can't manage that, I'll find someone else who can.”

“Goodness, look at that, I've just realized who it is.” Tapping Evie's elbow and pointing at the stage, Bonnie murmured excitedly, “Do you recognize him? It's Ethan from the Ellison Hotel, the one I set you up with on that date!”

***

The play had been very loosely based on
A
Christmas
Carol
. Ethan's character had turned out to be not so bad in the end.

When the dusty blue curtains closed then swung open again to allow the cast to take their bows, the audience rose to their feet and applauded wildly, possibly because most of them were friends or relatives of the cast and crew.

Evie clapped too, lighthearted with emotion and just praying she wasn't about to make a fool of herself and pass out—imagine the embarrassment of having to be lifted over the seats and carted out of the theater. God, but it was such a weird sensation, and her knees were
wibbling
…

Finally the cheers and applause died down and the young director raised his hands for silence.

“Thank you all so much for your wonderful support, it means the world to us. Now, we hope you won't all rush off. Drinks will be served in the bar, and my mum's made enough sausage rolls to keep all of us going until Christmas.”

“Oh how lovely. Actually, I'm quite peckish,” said Bonnie. “What d'you think, darling? Shall we stay for a bit?”

Evie swallowed; her mouth was dry and her knees were still clacking like maracas. “Yes, let's.”

***

The cast had changed out of their stage costumes and were having their photos taken for the local paper at the other end of the bar. Evie, keeping her distance and clutching her drink, watched as Ethan posed along with the rest of them.

The next minute she froze as he glanced up and spotted her. The impulse to hurriedly turn away and pretend she hadn't seen him was as strong as ever—old habits die hard—but this time she forced herself to return his gaze and smile. Except she seemed to have
forgotten
how to smile; her lips were stretching into a weird unnatural grimace. Oh no, this was ridiculous, and now she appeared to be stuck like that…

“These sausage rolls are fantastic,” Bonnie enthused, spilling flakes of pastry down the front of her pink cardigan. “Darling, you must try one.”

Because if there was anything more terrifying than a frozen grimace, Evie acknowledged, it was one liberally accessorized with pastry crumbs.

Although her courage was threatening to fail her now anyway. She wasn't at all sure she was brave enough to approach Ethan. And he was busy laughing and joking with the photographer, no longer even looking in her direction.

The next minute, as soon as Bonnie had moved away to chat to the director's sausage-roll-making mother, Ethan appeared in front of her. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Evie concentrated on breathing in and out. She could manage that, surely? He smelled wonderful. It seemed unbelievable that she could remember every single line and angle of his face.

“Enjoy the play?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Were you smiling at me just now, while I was over there?”

She nodded. “Trying to. Sorry, made a bit of a hash of it.”

“Did you see me the other week when you were crossing Milsom Street?”

“Umm…”

“You remember,” Ethan prompted. “That time you pretended not to see me.”

Evie grimaced. “Ah. Sorry again.”

“OK, can I ask you a very personal question?” He stood in front of her, clearly mystified. “What went wrong? Because not being able to figure it out has been driving me mad. I thought we had a great evening together. As far as I was concerned it was the perfect date. Maybe I shouldn't be saying this, but I really liked you. I mean,
really
liked you—”

“So you decided not to call me,” Evie blurted out. It was no good, she may as well be honest; it had been driving her mad too. “You didn't get in touch and I couldn't believe it. I felt like such a fool because I'd actually thought you would!”

“Oh my God, seriously? I don't believe it!” Ethan shook his head in despair. “Hang on, but then I
did
see you again, at that party at the hotel, and you ignored me. You were dancing with that other guy… and then when I phoned you the next day he was there and you told me not to bother calling you again. So after that, what else could I do? You'd found someone else. I'd missed my chance. And let me tell you, I gave my sister hell about that.” He paused. “Are you still seeing him?”

“Harry? No, I never was. Hang on, what's your sister got to do with this?”

“You mean my brilliant sister, the relationship expert?” Ethan's tone was wry. “I liked you, remember? I had to make sure I didn't mess things up. So I called and asked her advice, explained that I really needed to get this right. I wanted to phone you first thing the next morning to fix another date, and she told me I mustn't.”

“Oh. Why not?”

He raked his fingers through already raked-up hair. “She said I'd look like a complete loser, that nothing puts a girl off faster than when some new bloke acts too keen. If you met my sister you'd understand.” Ethan looked resigned. “Her views are very strong. She insisted you'd lose all respect for me. She also said calling you the next morning would be
pukey
.”

“OK. Just so you know,” said Evie, “I would have loved it if you'd phoned. It would have saved all that awful
waiting
.”

“Right, that's it. My sister's getting
no
Christmas presents this year. Her advice is officially rubbish.”

Evie said good-naturedly, “We all make mistakes.”

“Hmm.” Ethan was less forgiving. “Some bigger than others.”

The chambermaid who'd played the part of Maria came over. “Sorry to interrupt. Ethan, can I just say thanks for offering me a lift back to the hotel, but I won't need one now. Some of us are going out to a club.”

No trace of an eastern European accent, needless to say.
Because
she'd been acting
.

“That's fine,” said Ethan. “Have fun.”

“We will. You're welcome to come along too, if you like.”

“To a club? Me?” He shook his head. “Far too old. But thanks anyway.”

“And don't worry.” The girl grinned at him. “I'll try not to be late in the morning.”

When she'd gone, Ethan said, “That's Lizzie, it's her fault I'm here. She was the one who dragged me along to the drama group in the first place.” Misreading the expression on Evie's face, he added, “Don't worry, nothing like that, Lizzie just works for me. She's one of the chambermaids at the hotel.”

Time for an explanation of her own. Feeling almost weightless with relief, Evie smiled and said, “I know.”