Chapter THIRTEEN
It’s been so awkward, trying to avoid Mark.
I’d been completely knocked for six to see him again. I hadn’t realised he’d come back from New Zealand for the wedding and, he said, to spend more time with his daughter and her family.
I’d been comforting myself with the thought that once he’d left for the day, at least I’d be able to finally relax, wind down and enjoy the Hallowe’en dinner.
But no such luck, apparently.
When Sylvia suggested to Mark that he should stay the night and he actually accepted, my chin almost hit the floor, although thankfully, I didn’t think anyone noticed.
So now I was facing the queasy prospect of having to sit at dinner and pretend to be enjoying myself with Mark sitting there, no doubt charming everyone! Still, I was used to putting on a cheery face. I’d had plenty of practice over the years, dealing with needy and on occasion quite obnoxious clients. Perhaps I could duck out with a headache after the first course. And actually, the stressful way I was feeling, it probably wouldn’t be a lie . . .
Mark fetched the table decoration out of my van and ran with it into the house, then he brought it into the dining room and placed it on the long, solid oak table. I thanked him and hid my flushed cheeks by spending time tweaking it to make sure it was perfect. Then I stepped back rather awkwardly to see how it looked.
It was a confection of faux blooms – huge scarlet chrysanthemums and deep purple roses – with a great deal of tall, spiky foliage fanning out, providing more devilish drama.
Mark nodded admiringly.
‘Perfect for a Hallowe’en dinner. But then, I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you.’
‘Thank you. I am pleased with it. I want to do my very best for Sylvia and Mick.’
‘Of course you do.’
He smiled at me and the warmth in his eyes caused my frozen heart to melt a little. I was used to getting good reviews for my work – along with the occasional bashing on social media, of course – but praise from Mark meant everything.
‘Can we talk? Once you’ve finished work?’ he asked.
I hesitated, feeling suddenly confused. I’d been so determined that I should turn my back on him for my own protection.
‘It’s been so incredible, seeing you again, Celia,’
he murmured, moving a half-step closer.
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding at his nearness, thinking about the afternoon we’d spent catching up in the Little Duck Pond Café, followed by drinks and then dinner, and how – despite the dull day outside – the sun had seemed to shine on us. Time had flown by that day and the rest of the world had vanished while we’d talked and laughed together. It had seemed then as if the decades we’d spent living on opposite sides of the world had amounted to nothing more than marking time until we met again.
Yes, I might get hurt. But wasn’t it a chance worth taking? To be with someone who understood me like Mark always did. Shouldn’t I turn towards the possibility of love, instead of away from it? I’d be a fool not to give us a chance.
Those stunning blue eyes of his were locked on mine, and at first the sound of the door opening behind me barely penetrated my thoughts.
Then a familiar voice drifted over.
‘Ah, there you are, Mark. I’ve been looking all over for you. This place is so enormous, I keep getting lost!’
Mark blinked and turned, and so did I.
Fiona was standing there, grinning at us.
‘Ooh, lovely table decoration.’
She went over to have a closer look, and hastily, I arranged my face into a smile.
‘I guess this is your handiwork, Celia? I never miss an episode of your TV programme. You’re so blooming clever.’
She laughed.
‘No pun intended.’
Mark laughed as well, although it sounded a little forced.
‘Did I tell you that Fiona’s also a photographer?’ he said.
‘No, you didn’t.’
Only then did I spot the camera Fiona was wearing around her neck.
‘I have an assistant when I’m back in New Zealand. Fiona offered to fill the gap and help me out over these two days.’
‘That’s great! So did you two first meet at work, then?’
Fiona nodded.
‘I was nearly thirty and totally focused on forging a brilliant career for myself. I was on a job in New Zealand when this lovely, kind man came into my life and completely derailed my plans.’
She smiled warmly at Mark.
‘I stayed, got pregnant and that was that. I just wanted to be a stay-at-home mum after that, looking after Sadie.’
Mark’s face softened at the mention of his daughter, and I recognised the painful stab in my heart as raw envy. I’d never been the jealous type. There had never seemed much point envying someone else’s lot in life. Often, you only had to scratch the surface to realise that their life wasn’t a Hallmark movie, either.
But Fiona’s mention of being a mum and having Mark beside her to share such a wonderful gift . . . tears pricked my eyelids at that, although I managed to blink them away and smile before they noticed.
I’d never had that choice – career or motherhood – however much I might have secretly yearned for it. It was funny how every person’s life ran on a different track . . .
As Fiona talked on, saying that Sylvia had recommended they both stay the night because of the bad weather, I was aware of Mark stealing the occasional puzzled glance at me. He would be wondering why the warmth we’d shared the last time we met seemed to have completely evaporated.
But it was clear to me that he and Fiona still really cared about each other. And even if it was no longer a passionate, romantic love, there was always the chance – with so much respect and affection between them – that they might decide to get back together.
I’d felt full of breathless hope only five minutes ago, but after Fiona’s unexpected appearance, my cheeks were aching with trying to hold the smile in place and show I was perfectly composed and pleased for the pair of them.
Underneath the calm exterior, I was now feeling a desperate urge to escape . . . to run for the hills and never look back. I hated these intense, rollercoaster emotions I’d been experiencing ever since my ex had walked back into my life.
I hated even more that there was only one explanation for the way he was making me feel.
Whether I liked it or not, I had to face up to the fact that I was still hopelessly in love with Mark . . .
*****
I stood in the pergola outside, sheltered from the steady downpour but shivering in the cold, thinking about how I’d just rebuffed Mark once more. I was starting to regret it already, which just showed what a state my emotions were in.
After Fiona had gone to take photographs in the drawing room, Mark had asked again if we could grab some time together later to talk.
But the instinct to protect myself from further hurt had been strong, so I’d summoned up my coolest tone – the one I reserved for suppliers who failed to deliver the goods on time – and I replied.
‘I’m not sure there’s anything to talk about, is there? It’s been lovely seeing you but you’ll be going back to New Zealand soon.’
‘That’s true.’
‘There’s always email, I suppose.’
I’d smiled tightly.
‘Sorry, I need to get on now.’
And I’d walked out of the dining room, annoyed that my legs were trembling, and even more furious that Mark McKay should still have that effect on me.
I’d desperately needed some fresh air at that moment. It was Sod’s Law that it was still raining cats and dogs outside.
But I’d spotted the pretty pergola at the edge of the lawn when I first arrived, so I’d grabbed my hooded raincoat and pulled open the heavy front door. It had creaked ominously as I’d slipped out into the steady downpour – if anyone was to see me, they’d think I’d taken leave of my senses! – then I’d hurried across the lawn to the shelter of the pergola.
As I stood there, arms folded tightly across my stomach and taking some deep breaths to steady myself, I saw the front door open and someone appeared. A woman. I recognised her as one of the care agency ladies, although I wasn’t sure if it was Joyce or Evelyn.
She stood there, leaning against the wall by the door, just staring out over the lawn for a moment as if she was lost in thought. Then she seemed to suddenly realise it was raining and quickly pulled up her hood. Hands in her pockets, she started hurrying across the lawn, and I realised she was heading my way, over the lawn to find shelter.
Maybe her emotions were in chaos as well, I thought wryly. It must be something like that for her to venture out into this terrible deluge.
She looked surprised when she saw me.
‘Great weather we’re having.’
Stepping into the shelter of the pergola, she smiled at me and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her coat pocket.
‘I’m Joyce, by the way.’
‘Celia.’
She nodded, offering me a cigarette.
‘I know. It’s lovely to meet you. A real live celebrity!’
She said it without a trace of irony and I smiled.
‘No, thanks. I don’t smoke.’
‘Neither do I. I gave them up about a year ago, but sometimes you need all the comfort you can get,’
she said. Then she shrugged with a sad little smile.
‘My big sister died last week. Cancer.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you. Yes, it was a shock to us all when she decided to stop the chemo. The doctors had said it could give her the chance of another year. Even two. But she’d had enough.’
Joyce stared at the rain, tears in her eyes.
‘She was always so brave, my big sister. And kind. I miss her so much.’
She sighed and forced a smile.
‘Still, life goes on, doesn’t it?’
‘It does indeed,’
I sympathised, watching as she drew a paper hanky out of her pocket and blew her nose.
‘You shouldn’t feel bad about smoking. I eat French fancies when I’m having a bad time. I can get through an entire box in minutes if I’m upset enough.’
We both chuckled at this.
‘It’s just a temporary measure. The smoking,’
Joyce said, sounding more cheerful.
‘I’ve got a big birthday next month and I refuse to go into my sixties doing a constant impersonation of a chimney.’
She lit her cigarette and took a drag, blowing the smoke carefully out into the rain.
‘I think you’re marvellous on that TV programme.’
I smiled.
‘That’s really kind of you. I’d have thought after all this time people would be getting bored with it.’
‘Oh, never. It’s Mick’s favourite programme. Sylvia’s, too.’
She nodded indoors.
‘Mick never misses an episode and if we’re around at the time, he likes us to watch it with him.’
‘They make a great couple, don’t they? I’m so happy for them.’
‘Oh, absolutely. Ah, here’s Evelyn. She’s managed to get through, after all.’
‘Get through?’
‘A tree was down, blocking her normal route, so she had to do a detour. But thankfully she’s here in one piece.’
She took another puff, blew out the smoke and held the cigarette discreetly behind her back. Then she waved cheerily at her colleague with her other hand.
‘She’s probably coming with a list of jobs for me. I don’t think she really approves of breaks. Or smoking.’
Joyce smiled good-naturedly.
‘Is she your boss, then?’
‘No, no. But it’s the first time we’ve worked together so we’re gradually getting used to each other. We work in pairs at the care agency.’
‘It must be a really rewarding job, helping people.’
‘It is. Evelyn’s got quite a soft spot for Mick so she’s extra fussy about making sure he’s eating the right food for his heart and getting plenty of rest . . . that kind of thing.’
‘She sounds very caring.’
‘Oh, she is. She’s a lovely woman.’
Joyce chuckled.
‘She’s just a bit over-zealous and I can see Mick getting irritated at times when she’s fussing around him. But don’t tell anyone I told you that.’
I smiled.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’
We both said hello to Evelyn as she joined us. A little out of breath from dodging raindrops, she was older than Joyce, possibly in her seventies. People were carrying on working much later in life these days, I guessed partly because of the rising cost of living, but also through necessity if they didn’t have a big enough pension to retire on.
I counted myself so lucky in that respect, not having to worry about poverty in my old age. Giving regularly to a few charities that were close to my heart helped to relieve the guilt I sometimes felt at being so comfortably off, while others struggled, but it still bothered me that people like Evelyn, who should be enjoying her retirement by now, should still have to do what I imagined was quite a physically demanding job.
Evelyn did a double take when she saw me.
‘Oh. You look exactly like Celia Dearlove!’
She studied me intently.
‘The likeness is extraordinary.’
‘That’s because she is Celia Dearlove, Evelyn,’
said Joyce.
‘Really? Gosh.’
The older woman looked quite flustered.
‘It’s very nice to meet you in person.’
I smiled warmly, quite used to people being a little nervous meeting .
‘celebrity’. Whatever that meant.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, too, Evelyn.’
We shook hands. She had a surprisingly strong grip.
She turned to Joyce.
‘Sylvia’s looking for her medication but we can’t find it. Any idea where it is?’
‘Er, no.’
Joyce frowned.
‘You mean the insulin for her diabetes?’
Evelyn nodded.
‘She’s sure she brought it but it seems to have vanished.’
‘Oh, I’ve definitely seen it somewhere since we arrived this morning. You get in out of the rain and I’ll come and help you look for it.’
‘Okay.’
Evelyn hurried back over the lawn and disappeared inside, and Joyce finished off her cigarette.
‘Are you dining with everyone tonight?’
I asked Joyce.
‘Oh, no. We’ll be there in a working capacity, serving the food. But we’ll be able to put our feet up after that. We’ve been invited to the wedding, though, and we’re staying here tonight.’
‘It’ll be such a lovely occasion.’
‘I’m sure it will. Sylvia and Mick seem . . . well suited. Although you never know what’s really going on in other people’s relationships, do you?’
I smiled ruefully, thinking of Mark and Fiona. Ain’t that the truth!
‘I keep telling Evelyn she should get out there and find a bit of romance for herself,’
Joyce mused.
‘Just because she’s waved goodbye to her sixties doesn’t mean there might not be someone out there for her.’
‘But she’s not convinced?’
She shook her head.
‘I suppose everyone’s experience is different. I’m one of the lucky ones. I met Davey when I was just sixteen and we celebrated our thirty-fifth wedding anniversary last week.’
‘Oh, congratulations!’
‘Thank you. Yes, we’ve been happy for the most part, and long may it continue.’
She smiled wistfully.
‘It doesn’t work out like that for everyone, though, does it?’
I stifled a sigh.
‘It certainly doesn’t.’
‘Ooh, that was heartfelt!’
I chuckled, enjoying Joyce’s easy chat.
‘Well . . . actually . . . can you keep a secret?’
‘Of course. We carers have to be discreet at all times.’
Smiling, she mimed zipping her lips closed.
‘Okay. Well, I haven’t admitted this to anyone else, not even to him. But . . . my soulmate, the actual love of my life, just happens to be in that building right now.’
Joyce’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
‘But he’ll be returning to New Zealand soon, so he’ll never get to know how I feel.’
I shrugged and grinned, to show that I was half-joking about this and wasn’t suffering a broken heart in the slightest . . .
‘So who is it?’
she asked, grabbing my arm curiously.
‘Tell me, tell me!’
‘Ah, well, that really would be telling.’
I copied her zipped-mouth gesture with a smile.
I thought she would laugh, but she was gazing at me with an intense look in her eyes.
‘You know, you really should confess your feelings to him sooner rather than later. Find out if your feelings are reciprocated. And then if you discover you’re not actually on the same page, you can move on with no regrets.’
I nodded.
‘Very wise words.’
She shook her head and laughed.
‘Listen to me, getting all doom-laden. I suppose it is Hallowe’en.’
‘No, but you’re right. I think I might pluck up the courage and tell him how I feel. And if not, I’ll just carry on being the woman off the telly who’s actually quite happy as she is.’
‘Good for you.’
Nodding her approval, Joyce took a final drag on her cigarette.
‘Right, I’d better get back in there or Evelyn will be complaining I nipped out so I could escape unloading the dishwasher.’
With a little wave, she looked up at the sky and pulled her coat more firmly around her. Then she hurried back across to the hall.