That Special Something: A heartwarming, small town romance to fall in love with

Four

‘The cat’s out of the bag, I’m afraid.’ Bruce Boot sounded both relieved and disappointed in equal measure when he phoned Hope at eight-thirty on Monday morning. ‘But I suppose at least this way my aunts can have a say in how they want their birthday party to go.’

Hope was tempted to say, ‘No they can’t! Not at this late stage.’ Instead she said, ‘Of course.’

‘It also means we can have our meeting in Acorn Cottage instead of at my house. That’ll save you some time. I’m here already.’

Hope swallowed the curse that was about to come out of her mouth, and turned her car around to head back to Betancourt Bay. She’d left early to ensure she arrived on time as Bruce lived on the other side of Folkestone. Monday morning traffic in Folkestone could mean lengthy delays, but the traffic was light this morning and she had planned to park nearby and sit and enjoy the steaming cup of coffee she had just bought. She could forget that now.

‘Absolutely. I’ll see you at nine as planned. Although please don’t worry if I’m a minute or two late. We’ve had some urgent things to deal with this morning.’

‘Not a problem,’ said Bruce. ‘I was going to call you yesterday, but I didn’t want to bother you on a Sunday. We all need some time off. I stayed here last night, and that’s how they found out. Silly old me. I left the list I wanted to go through with you open on my laptop while I went to the loo.’ He giggled like a naughty child.

Hope was less amused. ‘Oh dear. Well never mind. I’ll see you soon.’

‘No rush if you’ve got things to do. It’ll give my aunts more time to decide on what they want.’

Hope pushed her foot down hard on the accelerator. The less time they had to do that, the better it would be for her. The way things were going she wouldn’t be at all surprised if Rita and Vera Boot decided they also wanted a unicorn. Or maybe a choir of elves to sing Happy Birthday to them.

Although that wasn’t necessarily impossible. Obviously, elves – like unicorns – didn’t exist. But children’s choirs did. And it was easy enough to get elven costumes. Especially in February. Unless they wanted to go for the whole Lord of the Rings type of thing. But even those were fairly easy to acquire. Perhaps she would suggest it to them. Before they got too many ideas of their own.

‘Bye for now,’ she said, ringing off and instantly calling home. ‘Change of plan. I’m now meeting Bruce at Acorn Cottage.’

‘Who’s this?’ It was Granny Joy’s voice.

That was all Hope needed this morning.

‘Hi Granny. It’s Hope. Is Mum there?’

‘Yes,’ she said, and promptly hung up.

Hope almost laughed but it wasn’t really funny. The quicker that damn tumour in Granny Joy’s head shrunk, the happier everyone would be. And not just because, despite all the reassurances from the consultants that Granny Joy would be fine and the tumour was benign, until they were given the news that the thing had gone or at least was small enough not to be a problem, none of them would stop worrying.

The consultant Griff had arranged for her was fantastic and the treatment was going well. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before they could see and hear the results. Granny Joy wasn’t herself right now and the sooner she got back to normal the better it would obviously be. She would get her life back. She might even be able to return to her own home in Folkestone and her lovely neighbours. Although they all visited her at The White House fairly regularly.

But perhaps it would be best if Granny Joy stayed at The White House permanently. Or maybe not. They’d all have to wait and see. For now, Hope would try to call her mum again. This time she got through.

‘Why did you let Granny answer your phone?’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Well she did. I called you less than five minutes ago and she answered and then hung up on me when I asked if you were there.’

Pat tutted. ‘I’ll remember to take it with me to the loo next time.’

Now Hope did laugh. ‘Why is everyone telling me about their trips to the loo this morning?’

‘What, darling?’

‘Never mind. I’m calling to tell you there’s been a change of plan and I’m meeting Bruce at Acorn Cottage.’

‘So you’ll be home sooner than you thought?’

‘I wouldn’t bank on that. Rita and Vera have found out about the party and they may have some input, it seems. I could be longer than I’d planned. Have you heard from Grace?’

‘Not yet. But she’s got that meeting with the Hamiltons this morning, about their daughter’s wedding, so I expect she’s on her way to that.’

‘I know. But I thought she’d call and let us know whether anything’s happened regarding Bianca. Maybe the Betancourts weren’t discussing that yesterday after all.’

‘Maybe not. I’m sure she’ll tell us if there’s any news. Will you be home for lunch?’

Hope laughed. ‘I certainly hope so. If the Boots keep me there beyond twelve, I may lose the will to live. Any luck with that unicorn?’

‘Not yet. But your dad and I are still looking.’

‘Okay. Let me know if you have any success. See you later.’

Hope’s family hadn’t been best pleased when Hope had told them yesterday at lunch that she’d just taken on a new client, and even less so when she gave them the details.

‘A unicorn?’ said Grace. ‘She does know they’re not real, right?’

‘Of course she does.’

‘And a fairy grotto?’ Pat shook her head. ‘There’s a lot of work involved in that.’

‘Tom said cost isn’t an issue. Within reason.’

‘You’ve gone red,’ said Grace. ‘What aren’t you telling us?’

‘What?’ Hope’s startled gaze darted around the table and all eyes were now on her. ‘Nothing. Honestly. I … I’m just a bit embarrassed about how this happened, that’s all.’

‘Oh, don’t give that another thought, darling,’ said Pat. ‘We’ve all had a little too much to drink from time to time and said things we perhaps shouldn’t have. It was Christmas Eve, so it really wasn’t your fault. The girl should’ve contacted us before last week in any case. But we’ll manage, so don’t worry. Finding a unicorn and a fairy grotto may be time consuming but it can’t be that difficult.’

‘There’s a fairy grotto in next door’s garden,’ said Granny Joy, pointing her knife in the direction of The Rectory, and all eyes turned to her. ‘I saw them all dancing out there last night.’

Hope grinned. ‘Problem solved then. I’ll pop next door and ask the vicar if we can hire them.’

‘Do you mean Reverend Copeland and his wife Daisy?’ queried Simon.

‘I think she means the garden gnomes,’ said Pat.

‘They were Fairies,’ Granny Joy snapped. ‘I saw them with my own eyes.’ She glanced towards the Eversley’s own garden. ‘Just as clearly as I can see that unicorn out there, sheltering under the apple tree.’

The rest of the family exchanged sympathetic glances.

‘Oh yes,’ said Hope. ‘Now eat your lunch before it gets cold, Granny.’

Hope couldn’t give Della Hardy a real-life unicorn as there weren’t any – despite what Granny Joy had said yesterday – but she could give her the next best thing. A white horse with a white cone shaped cardboard cut-out on its forehead for the horn, secured in position with white ribbons and a white bridle.

Unfortunately, there seemed to be a shortage of white horses nearby and the family were now having to search further afield. Hope had spent most of yesterday afternoon on the internet with no luck.

Then there was the small matter of the fairy grotto to consider. And there definitely wasn’t one of those in the Reverend Brian Copeland’s back garden.

Hope growled under her breath. Why couldn’t people simply be happy with a posh restaurant, a bottle of champagne, and the ring inside a specially made dessert, or something?

But then Eversley Events wouldn’t be raking in all the money that they were right now. Although money wasn’t everything. Sanity was more valuable.

Which reminded her that she still needed to find a magical setting for that other surprise proposal. And if this morning was anything to go by, a living, breathing, real life unicorn might be easier to come by.

Thankfully the traffic was still light and Hope drove past her home on Folkestone Road and turned into Oak Street, pulling up outside Acorn Cottage at five minutes to nine. She took a deep breath and was about to step out of her car when her mobile rang and she saw it was Grace. She closed the door and answered.

‘I know you’re meeting Bruce Boot,’ said Grace, ‘but have you got five minutes?’

‘For you? Always. Are you okay? I thought we might hear from you last night. Or early this morning.’

‘I know. It was a crazy evening and I didn’t get a chance to call earlier. I’ve been trying you for ages but you’ve been constantly engaged, and before that, I couldn’t get a signal. Did you know the Hamiltons live in the middle of nowhere?’

‘Yes. Didn’t you?’

‘I do now. And I also understand why the bride-to-be said she’d be leaving this house by tractor. And will not be coming back.’

Hope laughed. ‘I assume you’re going to try to persuade her and her parents that it might be wise to book into a hotel for the day and for her to get dressed in luxurious surroundings and then have a limousine – or if they insist, that appropriately decorated tractor, transport her to the church from there.’

‘Yep. I know they had their hearts set on her leaving from their front door, because it’s an ancient, family tradition, but having finally seen the said front door, I think it’s a no-no. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like in the wedding photos. Not even the best photo editing software on the planet could make this front door look … decent. I’ll send you a photo so that you can see it in all its … whatever it is. Because it certainly isn’t glory.’

‘I’ll look forward to that. But what happened yesterday? That’s what I really want to know.’

‘All hell broke loose.’

‘What? Oh no. Are you okay? How’s Griff?’

‘We’re both fine. Archie, however, is not. Bianca decided that actions speak louder than words. And she had a lot to … say. I think the plate of food over his head in the restaurant said that she thinks he’s a jerk and she wanted everyone to know it. And throwing all his clothes out of his bedroom window when they got home, said she was upset, I believe. But giving him a black eye by hitting him with her handbag, just says she’s a nasty piece of work, in my opinion.’

‘Blimey, Grace! Did she really do all that?’

‘And more, apparently. I saw the clothes and the handbag parts myself.’

‘What did Griff and Russell do?’

‘In the restaurant, not much, apart from try to calm her down. Once they were back home, they both did their best. But although they knew she was … volatile, I don’t think either of them thought she would go that far, and it was too late to stop her by the time they realised Archie’s clothes were flying through the air. The whack with her handbag, none of us saw coming. They did manage to stop her from doing any further harm though, and by about eleven last night, she was calm enough for them to send her away in a chauffeur driven car. But I’m not sure any of us got much sleep last night. Every time I heard a noise, I kept thinking it was her, coming back to say a bit more, and I woke Griff up several times to check.’

‘Wow. Is that it then? Has she gone for good? And where did they send her?’

‘Archie’s going to start divorce proceedings as soon as possible. Griff says there’s no way he’ll have her in the house again, and all the staff knows that. As for where she went, to a friend’s house, according to Griff.’

‘I didn’t know she had any friends.’

‘No. Nor did I. Anyway, she’s gone and that’s what matters. And this is the best bit. The first thing Griff said to me when we woke up this morning … wait. No. Not the first thing.’ Grace laughed. ‘I can’t tell you the first thing he said.’

‘I get the picture, thanks. Moving on.’

‘Okay. The second thing he said was that now Bianca isn’t around, will I reconsider moving in with him. So you see. He isn’t having doubts.’

‘I didn’t say he was. And I’m really happy for you. I assume you said yes.’

‘Too bloody right I did! I’m telling Mum and Dad when I’ve finished here, but I wasn’t sure when I’d see you today and I wanted you to be the first to know.’

‘I’ll see you at home at lunchtime, if you’re there. My meeting with the Boots is now in Betancourt Bay, so I’m already here, and I won’t be spending an hour or two shopping in Folkestone. And I’d better go, or I’ll be late. Congratulations, Grace. I’m so pleased everything is working out for you.’

‘Thanks. Me too. Now if you would fall in love with Russell, we could both live here.’

‘Goodbye Grace.’ Hope hung up, shook her head, stepped out of her car, and marched the few steps to Acorn Cottage.

Bruce Boot beamed at her when he opened the front door.

‘Right on time,’ he said. ‘I’ve just put the kettle on. Come in.’

Hope followed him inside and it was like stepping back in time. She’d been inside this cottage a few times before, but not for years, and she’d forgotten that it looked as if it hadn’t been decorated since the second World War.

‘Well isn’t this exciting?’ Rita Boot said as soon as Bruce showed Hope into their quaint but equally antiquated sitting room.

‘We had no idea,’ said Vera. ‘Until the dear boy left his laptop open.’

‘And we had to peek,’ said Rita.

‘Who wouldn’t? queried Vera.

‘We shouldn’t have really,’ Rita frowned.

‘You’re quite right dear,’ said Vera. ‘He might’ve been watching a porno.’

Hope nearly choked.

‘Are you all right, dear? Rita asked.

‘Get her a glass of water,’ ordered Vera.

Bruce went off and did so without batting an eyelid at their comment about the porno.

‘Do sit down.’

Rita pointed to an armchair near the fire and then she and Vera sat on the sofa opposite leaving just enough space for Bruce to squash in beside them.

‘Thank you,’ said Hope as he handed her the water.

She took a few small sips and then placed the glass on a coaster on the antique side table next to her chair.

‘Budge up,’ said Bruce, grinning at his aunts as he settled down beside Vera.

‘Now that it’s not a surprise,’ Hope began, ‘is there anything you’d like to ask me about your eightieth birthday party?’ She smiled when Rita and Vera both raised their hands. ‘You don’t need to raise your hands, ladies. Just say whatever is on your mind.’

The sisters exchanged glances and in unison asked, ‘Can we have some dancers?’

‘Dancers? Yes of course. What sort of dancers? Ballroom? Ballet?’

‘Male dancers!’ The elderly ladies both said. ‘The ones who take off their clothes.’