Chapter 44
Jed had been in Manchester for ten days now, but his feelings for Esme were as intense as ever. He missed her. Like, really missed her. He missed staying at the Cedars and was missing Starbourne too. More than he could ever have imagined.
OK, mainly because it contained Esme.
No one could possibly guess how much space she was taking up in his head. His phone was set to receive notifications at maximum volume, but still he found himself checking every few minutes in case she had sent him an email, a text or a voice note that had somehow managed to slip through under the wire. It was these that were keeping him going. Each evening they took it in turns to call each other for a chat, and just hearing her voice made him feel magically better every time.
Alone in his vast house in Altrincham, Jed stood gazing out of the window of his office as dusk fell and the first stars began to glimmer, barely visible in the darkening sky. It was Esme’s turn to ring him, but he couldn’t bear to wait a minute longer. This afternoon he’d taken delivery of a parcel, and upon opening it had uncovered a chiller box containing a well-packed and perfectly golden home-made cheese and ham quiche. There was no indication who’d sent it, but he’d known at once who it was from.
He dialled and Esme picked up on the fourth ring. When she called him, he did the same, enjoying the knowledge that in just a few seconds he’d be hearing her voice again.
‘Hey, you.’ Her voice was warm and velvety. ‘Did you get it?’
Jed felt himself relax. All was well in his world. ‘I did. And I’ve already had two slices. You were right, it’s out of this world.’
The quiche was outstanding, but he’d still have preferred a quickie.
‘I’ve had enough practice.’ Esme laughed. ‘Thought you might like to try one. You sounded as if you were in need of cheering up.’
‘I was. But you made me feel better anyway.’ A couple of evenings ago, he’d confessed to her about having said something to someone that he really shouldn’t have said, which had been nudging at his conscience ever since. Esme didn’t know the details of his comment to Nella about Juliet’s pregnancy, but still he’d felt the need to unburden himself. And Esme, being Esme, had been on his side.
‘I’m still ashamed of myself,’ he explained. ‘I thought I was better than that. Turns out I’m not.’
‘At least you’re recognising it was wrong. That’s a good thing,’ she reassured him. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. Isn’t this how we improve ourselves, by learning from our mistakes?’
She was making him want to become a better person. Jed had never experienced a sensation like this before. His throat tightened and he found himself unable to speak.
‘Hello?’ said Esme. ‘Are you still there?’
Come on, get a grip . He cleared his throat. ‘Still here. I just had a thought. You should come up to Manchester for a visit. I’d love to show you around the city.’
It was a thought he’d been practising coming out with in a casual fashion, hopefully without sounding needy. But Esme was already saying, ‘That would have been nice, but I can’t get away, couldn’t let them down at the pub.’
‘Of course, of course.’ Pride wouldn’t allow Jed to sound as if he cared too much. ‘I’m pretty busy up here myself.’
‘I know, I saw some of the photos of you at your club the other night. They’re up on one of the online gossip mags. My daughter showed them to me.’ Esme sounded amused. ‘That hair of yours still needs trimming. You want to get it sorted.’
‘What kind of sorted?’ Jed self-consciously ran his fingers through his dark hair, which had been thick and shoulder-length for years.
‘It’s your hair. It’s not up to me, is it? I just wondered if it could be time for a change.’
‘You mean short? Like, short short?’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know. It’s been long ever since university.’ He couldn’t imagine what he’d look like. A bank manager possibly.
‘Never mind. It was a thought, that’s all. Or you could just get a trim, a couple of inches off the ends to tidy them up. How was the party at the club, anyway? You seemed to be having fun.’
Fun? Hmm. It had been a massive event, packed to the gills with low-level celebrities gathered to celebrate an A-list singer’s thirtieth birthday. Well, to be photographed by a gaggle of paparazzi and jostle for position next to the A-lister, pretending to be one of her closest friends.
So yes, the evening had been wildly successful. But no, Jed couldn’t say he’d particularly enjoyed it.
He’d rather have been at the Angel Inn with Esme and a friendly crowd of locals whose mission in life wasn’t to wear the tiniest amount of clothing possible and get papped while posing provocatively for the cameras.
Forty-eight hours later, making his way across Exchange Square, Jed saw two familiar figures heading in his direction.
Typical. You could spend years living in a city this size and not bump into anyone you knew. But here they were, Juliet and Tommy, having just emerged from Selfridges. Deep in conversation and holding hands, they didn’t spot him at first. Then Tommy looked up, hesitated and murmured something to Juliet.
They moved forward. So did Jed. Finally they met and stopped, keeping a distance of maybe three metres between them.
Like the gunfight at the OK Corral.
Jed waited to feel the agony of hurt and rejection all over again, but it didn’t happen. He was well and truly over Juliet. Good to know.
Then again, after what he’d done, how they felt about him could be quite a different matter.
He thought of how he’d felt, confessing to Esme and privately vowing to improve himself from now on.
‘It’s good to see you both,’ he blurted out. ‘I’m glad everything’s going so well for you. And I’m sorry, really sorry, about what I told Nella. I should never have done it. I’m trying to be a better person. Anything I can do to make up for it, just say the word. And sorry again.’
Juliet looked taken aback, as well she might, seeing as making apologies had never been his forte. ‘Umm . . .’
‘Apology accepted,’ Tommy cut in. ‘Appreciate it.’
That was Tommy; he didn’t waste time making decisions, always liked to get straight to the point. Jed pushed his overlong hair out of his eyes. ‘Anything at all,’ he repeated.
Tommy nodded. ‘Thanks. And we’re sorry too. For . . . well, you know.’
The two of them were still holding hands. Tommy was also carrying a couple of oversized Selfridges carriers. At a guess, they hadn’t been able to resist shopping for a few items for the baby.
‘Thanks. Well, good luck with everything.’ Jed raised a hand. ‘See you around.’
Juliet, looking relieved, said, ‘Bye.’
Once they’d headed off in opposite directions and Jed was out of earshot, Juliet turned to Tommy. ‘Do you have any idea what he was talking about back there?’
‘Nope.’
‘Me neither. What could he have meant?’
‘No clue. But whatever it is, he’s really sorry.’
‘I thought you’d have asked him.’
‘First rule of business,’ said Tommy. ‘Always let other people think you know more than you do. Never admit ignorance; it makes you look weak.’ Changing the subject, he broke into a grin and waved the carriers at her. ‘Do you love what we bought?’ The twelve weeks were up. They’d chosen newborn babygros, teeny-tiny knitted hats and socks and a dozen or so plush soft toys.
‘I love all of it. I can’t believe that in just a few weeks we’ll find out if it’s a girl or a boy.’ Juliet paused. ‘You could give Nella a call, ask her what he was talking about.’
‘I will.’ Tommy nodded. ‘I’ll do it when we get home.’
*
‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Fire away,’ said Nella.
‘This morning I bumped into Tommy and Juliet in Manchester city centre. I apologised to them for telling you something I shouldn’t have told you.’
Nella smiled to herself. ‘That’s good to hear. Well done.’
‘But I’m pretty sure they didn’t know anything about it,’ said Jed.
‘They wouldn’t.’
‘You didn’t say anything to them?’
‘If they didn’t tell me about the baby, I knew there had to be a reason for that. And I was right,’ Nella went on. ‘They wanted to wait until they got to twelve weeks, in case . . . you know, to be on the safe side. They called me this afternoon to announce their big news.’
His sigh of relief was audible. ‘Did you act surprised?’
‘Of course I did. I was brilliant. Just call me Meryl Streep and give me my Oscar now.’
‘You’re great,’ said Jed.
‘I know. But I’d like to hear how you knew about it. Because if you’ve been having them followed by a private detective, that would be—’
‘God, nothing like that, I promise. I was walking past your cottage and overheard them talking upstairs. The window was open, that was all. And seeing them today, it was fine. I never thought I’d be like this, but I’m actually happy for them.’ He cleared his throat. ‘So did Tommy ask you what it was I’d said about them?’
‘He did. I told him you thought they wouldn’t last as a couple and you were sure they’d break up by Christmas.’
Jed sounded relieved. ‘Thanks. I owe you one.’
‘Just make sure you don’t do it again,’ said Nella.
‘I won’t, I promise. If they have a boy, d’you think they might call him Jed?’
She laughed. ‘I wouldn’t bank on it.’
‘I don’t think they’ll break up by Christmas, by the way. Especially not now.’
‘Me neither. They seem really happy together.’
‘Can I ask you another question? Have there been any last-minute cancellations at your place?’
‘Sorry, no.’
‘OK, never mind,’ said Jed. ‘Just wondered.’