Chapter 31
When Nella made her way over to welcome the late arrivals at the Cedars, she wasn’t expecting to be greeted at the door by Jed Diamond.
But there he was.
‘Wow.’ She took a step back in surprise. ‘Hello.’
‘Looked the place up online,’ he told her with a hint of smugness. ‘Thought we’d check it out.’
Nella didn’t need to ask how he’d discovered her whereabouts; whilst she and Trish had been chatting on the phone the other night, Trish had mentioned that she’d told another friend, Louise, where Nella was now working. Louise’s brother Jay was a friend of Jed’s. Connections were like the tentacles of an octopus, and Jed knew just about everyone in Manchester.
She said, ‘You didn’t book under your own name.’
‘Actually, I did.’ He gestured for her to come into the house.
‘Jeremy Browning? That’s your real name?’
‘I know. Not exactly showbiz. Plus, it was my father’s name and he was a bastard. So I became Jed Diamond.’ He added, deadpan, ‘It has more of a ring to it.’
‘Did I hear the word ring ?’ Behind him, Karina Carr came down the stairs in towering heels and a flamingo-pink silk boiler suit. ‘Is that a clue ?’ She waved at Nella as she reached the bottom step. ‘Hiya, I love this place! And you’re the one who gets us whatever we want, yeah? It’s my birthday tomorrow, so I’m going to need someone over here by ten thirty to do my hair and make-up.’
Yikes . ‘I can certainly do my best to arrange that, but it’s very short notice.’
Karina looked offended. ‘It says on the website you can arrange anything we want.’
Jed shook his head. ‘You could say you want Beyoncé to come and put on a performance just for us, but you wouldn’t get her, would you?’
‘Well, just do the best you can.’ Karina was clearly put out. ‘But I’ll be doing an Insta Live. My followers will be expecting me to look stunning.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Nella assured her. ‘Of course.’
Jed said, ‘And we have the private chef coming here tomorrow night? That’s all arranged?’
At least he’d had the foresight to make the booking in advance. ‘It is.’ Nella nodded. ‘Alastair’s an outstanding chef. You’ll love his food.’
‘OK,’ Karina began counting off on her fingers, ‘can you just let him know that I don’t do asparagus, I don’t do mustard and I don’t do anything with breadcrumbs.’
Nella made rapid notes on her phone. ‘Does that mean no gluten?’
‘No, gluten’s great. I just don’t like the texture of breadcrumbs. Ooh,’ Karina brightened, ‘tell him I love burgers.’
‘Right.’ Poor Alastair.
Karina hadn’t finished yet. ‘And no herbs, because it’s annoying when bits get stuck in my teeth. And absolutely no vinegar, because vinegar’s gross. And nothing with eyes . They give me the ick.’
‘Nothing with eyes,’ Nella murmured as she added this instruction to the lengthening list. Alastair was going to need to keep his blood pressure in check tomorrow evening, that was for sure.
‘Right, that’s all. Unless we want a harpist?’ Karina said brightly. ‘Would that be nice?’
Jed said, ‘I don’t think we do want a harpist.’
‘Let’s go, then.’ She beamed at Nella. ‘He’s taking me shopping in Bath. Did you see the last video I posted on my Insta?’
‘Sorry, must have missed that one.’ Nella said it as if she meant it.
‘We were stuck on the motorway yesterday, so I opened my presents early. But they weren’t right, so we’re having another go this afternoon.’ Karina winked. ‘See if he can make a better job of it this time!’
Nella exchanged a glance with Jed before he turned away. Did he really not comprehend how wrong for him Karina was? Seeing her on TV being an exaggeratedly avaricious version of herself for the camera was one thing, but was this what she was like in real life too?
It was bumping into old Alfie Baines that had brought on the wave of nostalgia for Nella. Alfie had stopped her on the way home to reminisce about the old days when he and her grandfather had worked together on the estate and competed to grow the best vegetables for the annual harvest festival. His own grandchildren, he boasted, had clubbed together and bought him one of those mobile phones for his birthday, and had loaded all his old family photos onto it so he could carry them around and see them whenever he wanted. Like magic, it was!
‘Got one of me and Vernon, too.’ Scrolling through with a shaky thumb, he found it and proudly showed it off to her. ‘There we are, that was us pruning the trees in the orchard behind Starbourne Manor. Not a bad-looking couple of lads, eh? If I do say so myself.’ He chuckled with pride as Nella gazed at the tiny photo on the screen. ‘Thought you’d like to see it.’
They must have been in their thirties, she estimated. The two of them were carrying heavy-duty clippers and saws, looking tanned and happy in their working clothes as they grinned for the camera.
‘Very handsome,’ she told Alfie, and he gave her a toothless grin.
‘Oh, I had my moments. Those were the good old days. Want me to get a copy made? I could drop it through your letter box if you want.’
His grandchildren needed to teach him a bit more about his fancy new phone. Hiding a smile, she said, ‘Or you could just text it to me.’
Alfie gave her a baffled look. ‘You’ll have to do that.’
Now back at home, showered and changed into cut-off jeans and a white strappy vest, Nella brought her most treasured possession downstairs. Wherever she’d lived, the wooden box had gone with her. Made for her by Grandpa, who’d included carpentry among his many skills, it was beautifully constructed and simple in design, the only decoration being her own name carved into the lid.
Inside, she kept all the most precious mementos she’d collected over the years. Favourite photos, school reports, letters and cards from people she’d loved . . . anything that made her smile to see it. And occasionally shed a tear as well, but that was OK. Settling herself cross-legged on the sofa with a can of Lilt and a packet of Minstrels, she traced the outline of her name – Antonella – painstakingly etched into the polished walnut, then lifted the lid and took out the uppermost photo, of herself and her mother . . .
A tap on the window twenty minutes later made her jump and splash Lilt onto her bare thigh.
Through the glass, Nick saw what had happened and mouthed, Sorry .
‘Didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said when she opened the front door.
He always smelled so good. ‘It’s OK. I was miles away.’
‘You’re limping. Are you hurt?’
Nella smiled. ‘My foot’s gone to sleep, that’s all. Come on in.’
‘I wanted to check everything’s all right. I just saw Maeve, who told me the new guy at the Cedars is Jed Diamond.’ Nick looked concerned. ‘What’s he doing here?’
‘Honestly, it’s fine. His girlfriend’s a bit over the top, but that’s his problem, not ours.’ As he followed her into the living room, Nella said, ‘I don’t have any wine, but there’s orange juice or a can of Lilt?’
‘Lilt would be perfect.’ He nodded at the wooden box and the items spread over the coffee table in front of the sofa. ‘What’s all this, then?’
‘My life. Well, the best bits.’ Returning from the kitchen with a can from the fridge, Nella found him sitting on the left-hand side of the sofa. She showed him a photo of her grandfather beaming with delight as he held a howling puce-faced baby in his arms. ‘That’s me with Grandpa Vernon.’
‘One of you’s looking happier than the other.’ Nick sounded amused. ‘How old were you there?’
‘Around six months. According to Grandpa, I was screaming because he wouldn’t let me play with a chainsaw.’
‘Cruel.’ He picked up another photo. ‘And is this your mum?’
‘Yes, that’s Geraldine. Who would definitely have let me play with a chainsaw if it meant leaving her in peace.’
‘Are you serious?’
Nella shrugged. ‘It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t well. Apparently she fell asleep once while I was crawling into a pond. One of the other people in the commune found me just in time.’
Nick shook his head. ‘It’s amazing the way you’ve come through everything. What about this one? Is that your dad?’
‘No, that was someone else we lived with. I can’t remember his name, but he used to share his food with me. And he gave me a coat once when I was cold.’
‘God, I can’t begin to imagine.’ Nick glanced at the other photos on the table. ‘What did your dad look like?’
Her ribcage was suddenly alive with butterflies and she didn’t know if it was due to her proximity to Nick or to the effort of remembering her father. ‘Tall. Dark hair. Nice smile.’
‘D’you have photos of him?’
‘No.’
‘What, none at all?’
‘None.’ Nella shrugged; her childhood memories were as faded and frayed at the edges as ancient denim. ‘I think he had a kind face, but that’s as much as I can really remember. Grandpa Vernon said he was tall, though. And thin. With long dark hair and sometimes a moustache. That’s all I’ve got.’
Nick reached forward to pinch a Minstrel from the open packet on the table, and for a fleeting moment his arm brushed against her knee, which set off a reaction – zing, pow, zinggg! – throughout her body. Pretending not to have noticed, she took a badly timed gulp of her drink and managed to dribble most of it down her chin.
Sexy .
Nick said, ‘Have you never thought of finding out more about him?’
‘He left us. He died of a heroin overdose. He’s dead,’ Nella said flatly, ‘and he’s not coming back. Nothing much else to find out.’
‘What about his relatives? Do you ever wonder about them?’
‘Occasionally. Not very often. Does that make me abnormal?’
Nick shook his head. ‘No.’
But what if he was secretly thinking Yes ? It was something she’d often wondered about herself.
‘I know it’s not the same thing, but people who were adopted as babies sometimes don’t have the urge to search for their birth families until they’ve become parents themselves. Maybe I’ll feel the need one day.’
‘It must be a tricky decision to make.’
‘I know.’ She tilted her head back, confessed her innermost fears. ‘The thing is, what if I meet them, then don’t like them? Or they don’t like me? It’s easier not to take the risk.’
‘They would like you.’ This time the nudge he gave her arm was deliberate. ‘Why wouldn’t they? But it’s your decision. There are no rules. Apart from you letting me have a look at that photo over there . . .’
‘Trust you to spot that one.’ Nella laughed as he reached for it, secretly hoping his hand would brush against her knee again. But it didn’t happen.
‘How could I resist? Look at the pair of you.’
‘I know. The state of us.’ It was the least flattering photo she’d ever kept, but she couldn’t love it more. Unable at the time to afford a visit to a proper salon, and having taken the kitchen scissors to her hair, she’d ended up with the Worzel Gummidge look, and had also dyed it herself using kitchen bleach, with predictably patchy results. And there they were, her and Hugo on their way to a Hallowe’en party with their eyes and mouths dramatically painted black, pulling terrifying faces for the camera.
‘That’s a hell of a wig,’ said Nick.
‘If only it had been a wig.’ Nella sighed. ‘I was going through my trying-to-be-edgy phase. That was my actual hair.’
‘Wow. Definitely edgy. How old were you there?’
‘Sixteen.’
‘And who’s that?’
‘It’s Hugo!’
‘Ha!’ Nick’s face was a picture. ‘Didn’t recognise him with those vampire teeth. I’ve got a great one of him that was taken after a rugby match at school . . . Hang on, it’s on here somewhere . . .’ Digging out his phone, he began scrolling. ‘There he is.’
This photo was of Hugo covered from head to toe in wet mud, as if he’d just emerged, grinning, from a swamp. Only his eyes and teeth were visible.
‘Now I want to see some of you,’ Nella demanded.
For the next hour they showed each other photos and swapped stories all the way up from being teenagers to the present day. She saw plenty of snaps of Nick with an ever-changing roster of girlfriends, out and about on dates and day trips and holidays abroad. There were photos of his parents too, who looked lovely and so normal that her heart gave a silent squeeze of envy. She gazed with fascination at each snap of him with his mum and dad at Christmas, on birthdays, messing about in their back garden, laughing as they visited a farm and fed alpacas, then wrapped up warm and making their way home through the snow after a New Year’s afternoon at the local pub.
‘Hey,’ he murmured beside her. ‘Are you OK?’
Nella had been so engrossed in listening to him describe each photo that she’d felt as if she were actually there with him and his family, giggling as an alpaca threatened to spit at his uncle Eddie and gasping when his mum slipped on the snowy lane and went tumbling into a yew hedge.
The next moment a tear plopped onto the phone screen and she belatedly realised how stirred up her emotions had become. Hastily wiping the screen with her thumb, she shook her head. ‘Sorry, sometimes things affect me and I get a bit . . . you know. Just ignore me.’
Nick moved closer; she could feel the warmth of his body as he tilted his head to look at her. ‘Don’t apologise.’
Nella blinked hard to make sure no more tears were on their way, but it was too late; one was already trickling down her cheek. Reaching up to brush it away, she was beaten to it by Nick. She breathed in the scent of his skin, suppressed a confusing quiver of lust – because lust and crying didn’t go together – and attempted to change the subject. ‘Your mum sounds brilliant, so much fun. And your dad too.’
‘You’ll have to meet them the next time they come to visit. You’d get on like a house on fire.’
She turned to look at him. ‘You think?’ And now adrenalin was racing through her veins. Unable to hold his gaze, she concentrated on his mouth instead. God, his lips were so perfect, so irresistibly kissable . . .