Never Too Late (10 page)

“That’ll be the day, when you put on an ounce of fat.”

“Are you saying I’m skinny?” she demanded to know, turning sideways and trying to see her reflection in the window.

James slapped her rear. “You know very well you have all the right curves in all the right places.” He opened the door for her. “And you shouldn’t be looking to a brother for compliments, runt.”

She took his arm as they headed out the back door and went over to the bench by the fountain.

“OK, Sis,” he said as he opened the box and took out his first sandwich. “What’s up now?” He took a bite and handed over his nectarine, Chloe’s favourite fruit.

“Have you got a tissue?” she asked. “I don’t want to drip any juice onto my dress.”

He grinned at her. “Nothing changes does it? You never did have a tissue handy when you needed one.”

“That’s what big brothers are for – looking out for little sisters.”

They had always been close and he felt comfortable in her company. Yes, she could be incredibly thoughtless, selfish even, but how else would she be when she had been so pampered all her life? In his eyes she was darn near perfect.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he prompted her.

“What question was that?”

“Come on, out with it,” he play punched her arm. “I know and you know you’re after something. So tell – put me out of my misery.”

She took a big bite out of the nectarine and wiped the juice as it dribbled down her chin. “Well,” she said around the fruit. “It’s Mummy’s birthday next month and we’re going to arrange a surprise party for her.”

“Oh, we are, are we?” He smiled at the thought of what it would mean to their mother. She got very few surprises in life and deserved more nice things happening. They were all very remiss in that department really, but the weeks just disappeared away from them somehow. “So what’s the plan?”

“Well, I’ll organise the caterers – food, wine, waitresses, the works.”

“Yes, go on,” he urged. “And?”

“And I want you to sort out with Adam booking that terrific group he had at that party we went to last Christmas.”

“Could be awkward – very short notice.”

“I know but I was chatting to them back then and they’re personal friends of Adam’s so if he could twist their arms a bit, you know call in a favour or something.”

“We can try but don’t pin all your hopes on it. What else?”

“We’ll need to get together on sorting out the guest list and badgering them all to drop any other plans they may have had.”

James grinned at her. “That’s an easy one – Mum’s very popular and she does so much for other people they’ll be queuing up for the invites.”

“You are joking, right? But never mind,” she rushed on. Nothing would stand in the way of one of her plans going perfectly. “I’ll manage to rustle up a few people, bribe them if necessary.”

He saw the hesitation still in his sister’s face. “And?” he prompted.

Chloe took a deep breath. “And I need you to help me choose a present for Mummy from us, and one from Daddy.”

James stood up and went over to the water, his back to Chloe. She could see the tension in his shoulders.

“As I said,” he ground out, “nothing changes. He can’t even make time to buy her a present.”

“He would but he’s just so busy right now,” Chloe defended him. “Men are never much good at that kind of thing anyway.”

“If you love someone you make the time,” James asserted. “The only difficulty is cutting it down to one present because you want to give the special person in your life so much.”

“OK, OK – I’ll deal with that too. I know what he likes. Any ideas on what we can give her? I just never know what she’d like that she hasn’t already got.”

James thought of his mother, and the happy hours they had spent in the garden together. He’d decided weeks ago it had to be something she could nurture and enjoy year by year as she watched it flourish in her beloved garden. Something really special.

“Leave that with me,” he told Chloe. “I know exactly what to arrange and I’ve enough time to get it ready to roll. I’ll need you to get her out of the house on the day though, the full day if you can, or it won’t be a surprise.”

“No problemo,” she grinned. “I’m going to do that anyway to give the caterers and marquee people time to set up.” She stood up and brushed off the back of her dress. “I’ll just spirit her off to the salon for the works and tell her that’s her birthday present – sauna, massage, leg wax, manicure, pedicure, facial, hair and cosmetics, then shopping for a new dress. That’ll give us long enough.”

“I said the day, not a week! No doubt you’ll be right alongside her enjoying the same treatment?”

“Of course – it’s only fun if you do it with other people and have a good natter at the same time. I’ll get some of my friends to join us. It’ll give me enough Brownie points to keep her off my case for weeks.” She ruffled his hair. “Men! You don’t know anything.”

She went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and raised her hand in farewell as she left to return to work.

*

Maggie opted to go to the ‘children’s’, that is the afternoon session, of Jean and Frank’s party. She didn’t really feel up to going to an evening party by herself and there was no point asking Iain. She’d taken the shawl and card for Jenny, and a card for Jean and Frank. She’d take them some flowers on the actual day of their anniversary.

What a bonny lad Harry is, and so much hair!

She had felt quite tearful as she held him, missing the feel of her own babies. Unfocussed blue eyes stared up at her as she wished him a happy life, pressing carefully disinfected silver into his palm.

“This is for you, Jenny,” she said, passing over a prettily wrapped package.

“But you’ve already given me that beautiful shawl.”

Maggie took her hand. “Enjoy a few moments just for you. Harry’s important but don’t forget yourself. I’m not so old I don’t remember the aches and pains after giving birth – that may help.”

As Maggie walked away Jenny opened the package of bath oils and scented candles.

Ooh, bliss! What an excuse for some ‘me’ time.

Maggie quickly slipped into the routine perfected over many jumble sales and school events, ensuring there were drinks poured ready in plastic beakers for the children to help themselves, crisps were in endless supply and more jellies appeared on cue from the hall’s small kitchen. Just as important was keeping the tea urn topped up for the supervising adults.

“Doesn’t it all look lovely,” Sarah Hayes smiled at her. “A few lights and a bit of bunting and you could be in fairyland.”

They stood and watched the children dancing under the glitter ball.

“And no temper tantrums or little accidents yet either,” Maggie laughed.

“Will you be at the meeting on Wednesday?” Sarah asked her.

“Wednesday?” Maggie looked confused for a moment. “Oh yes, at the church, the flower committee. And it’s Parish Council this Thursday, isn’t it? Yes, I’ll be there. Do I need to bring anything? Is it my turn for biscuits?”

Sarah patted her hand. “Maybe a notepad and pen would be useful, my dear. You young things have so many things to remember these days perhaps you should just jot down who’s doing what.”

“My goodness Sarah,” Maggie put her hand on her chest and half bowed, “thank you! It’s a long time since I’ve been called a ‘young thing’.”

“And so you are. I hope you’ll be joining in the dancing tonight?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Maggie demurred.

“Oh, that’s a shame; you’re such a good dancer.” Sarah shook her head sadly. She knew how much Maggie used to enjoy dancing with Iain, but had also noticed he was rarely seen in the village these days.

All work and no play…

Maggie looked for Hilda. It was unusual to see Sarah without Hilda. Ah, there she was, over the far side of the hall by the buffet. Maggie watched as one of the children, Isabelle, whom she knew from the weekly dance classes she taught the younger children, took a cake over to Hilda and offered it with a smile. Hilda seemed to have all the time in the world for children and got on well with them.

It’s adults she doesn’t get on with, especially me.

There were too many coincidences for Maggie to be able to ignore the fact that Hilda avoided her whenever possible. Disapproval of her was always apparent but Maggie had no idea why.

She stayed for a couple of hours, chatting with all the friends she had made in the village over the years, then found Jean and Frank to say goodbye and thank them. They, too, tried to persuade her to join in the evening festivities but she remained non-committal. She knew her friends would welcome her and she wouldn’t lack for dance partners, but it felt like a foretaste of widowhood without Iain by her side at these functions.

*

Iain and Natasha were taking their time over breakfast in their hotel suite. They were leaning back against their pillows in a shaft of gentle morning sunshine, the Sunday papers scattered around them. They had spent two nights together here, and all day Saturday they had done silly touristy things like any other couple they had passed, enjoying the clement weather and time spent just with each other.

It was good being away from their normal lives, in Iain’s case a life that was getting to be too hectic these days, in Natasha’s case a life that was rather humdrum and boring on the whole if she was honest with herself. This was just the sort of spice she needed to perk up her week. Personally, she would have chosen to be clubbing and dining in London, but as Iain still insisted on a degree of secrecy they had to be more circumspect. It certainly leant a little frisson, a sense of naughtiness, to their being here together.

They had visited Castle Ashby House as Iain was considering it as a venue for a business meeting -
what a luscious wedding venue!
Natasha thought - and they picnicked by the river with oodles of champers. Having decided that Northampton had little to offer in the way of satisfying their current needs, they had headed west into Warwickshire and had strolled round Stratford-on-Avon until the mass of tourists heading for places like Shakespeare’s birthplace in Henley Street and the like became too much for them. Iain suggested the theatre but she had drawn the line at actually seeing a Shakespearean play. Her personal taste was to be seen at the latest West End shows.

Mainly she had enjoyed their lovemaking in the grand half tester bed in this bewitching 16th century manor house. The hotel, as it now was, was filled with fine antiques and they were treated like royalty.

She let the sheet slide beguilingly as she leaned forward to replace her coffee cup on the tray, almost, but not quite, revealing her large dark nipples. She stretched languorously, knowing Iain loved to see the way her breasts tautened when she raised her arms above her head, the way they were thrust forward so provocatively beneath the thin covering. Today, however, his eyes remained glued to the article he was reading in The Times, something about more eco-warriors she noted with annoyance. How could that be more interesting than her?

She turned sideways, allowing her full warm flesh to brush against his arm. “Come on, Tiger,” she invited him, running her hand slowly up his thigh. “Show me again that fabulous new move we tried last night.” He had really turned her on and she wanted more. To her annoyance he remained distracted.

“Tasha, you are totally insatiable.” His clipped voice was an icy douche to her amorous intentions. He got out of bed and folded the paper at the article he’d been so engrossed in and placed it on the desk. He padded towards the bathroom. “Look, go and have a session in the salon or a massage or something and put it on the room bill. I have some phone calls I’ve got to make.”

Natasha paced the room in frustration. She always got her own way – except with Iain.

I should ditch him and find someone else.

Peering in the mirror, she checked carefully for any sign of wrinkles around her eyes and neck. Apart from anything else, she admitted privately, she needed to snare another husband before her looks started to fade. Iain was a challenge and it was tremendous fun knowing more about him and his life than his little mouse of a wife and vomit-worthy Princess. And he did get her the most fabulous presents, when she hinted clearly enough. She was experienced enough to know that if divorce hadn’t been mentioned by this stage of their relationship it never would be, and having exes littering the place was just so messy.

Time and tide waits for no man – or woman.

She needed her tide to sweep her in a new direction.

She glanced at the newspaper while she waited for her turn in the bathroom.

Interesting! Milward Farm - that’s where Iain met those other colleagues and workmen on Friday, while I was left kicking my heels in that ghastly little village. So now it’s big news, awash with eco-warriors, and Iain’s having forty fits. Well, well, well! It looks like a major delay coming up for this particular project of his. How much will that cost him?

Iain was cold and distant as he emerged from his ablutions. He didn’t seem to notice her at all, Natasha realised, as he grabbed his mobile and swept into their small private lounge, closing the door firmly behind him. She couldn’t resist tiptoeing to the door and pressing her ear against it. His voice was muted but she could make out most of it. She could certainly make out the barely suppressed anger in the one sided conversation she overheard.

“How the hell did it get to this stage, Richard? For god’s sake I was there on Friday. Why wasn’t I told about them?”

“Are you really stupid enough to think it’s going to stay just a few?!”

“Well that’s just not good enough! Christ, we handed over a small fortune to prevent all eventualities that might slow us up! Those trees should have been cleared a fortnight ago.”

“I don’t want your fucking excuses! I’m fucking up to here with excuses!”

“Yes, I suggest you do that right now!”

“No, I don’t think either of us should be seen there till it calms down a bit. Wait till I get back to the office.”