Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
GAbrIEL
I can’t help the sharp intake of breath I take as Charley is shown into the drawing room before dinner. He looks incredible in black trousers, light grey shirt, and a soft blue jumper that matches the colour of his eyes perfectly.
“Charley!” I say a bit too loudly, trying to cover up that my brain and body stalled looking at him.
I can feel my sister’s sharp eyes on me as I cross the room quickly.
I get close enough to catch his scent. He smells of pine forests and promises, and I want to hug him, revel in that earthy, soft warmth, but instead I gesture towards where my mother is standing by the hearth.
As he moves forward, I begin to place my hand on his lower back but then snatch it away again, not sure if he’d be alright with it.
Damn this is confusing. I take a deep breath to stop my sigh from leaking out.
“Mim, you look radiant as always,” Charley says with easy charm, and my mother draws him into a hug, the lucky woman.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Charley, we’ve missed you at our table.
But I hope that will change now and you’ll be a frequent guest.” She stands back, holding onto his forearms and looking up at him.
“I always knew you’d turn into a very handsome man.
” My mother is always forthright, but never rude like some forward people can be.
“Thank you.” Charley turns a delicious shade of rose pink under his freckles and my heart speeds up a little. She releases him with a smile and he turns towards Imogen, a tiny frown showing on his face.
“Is this Immy?”
“Aww surely you recognise me,” she says, walking over to him, and he smiles.
“Hardly, you’re not fifteen any more.” He pulls a quizzical face. “Can I still call you Immy, or do you prefer Imogen now?”
“My friends still call me Immy, so yes, you can. As long as you promise not to pull my pigtails any more.” She laughs, her sleek bobbed hair swaying slightly.
“As I recall, I only did it once, and that was when I was thirteen and you were about ten and deserved it.” His eyes twinkle as he laughs.
“Then time has treated our memories very differently. It is good to see you again, come here.” She too hugs him, and a settled feeling fills my chest. Contentment that my family have welcomed him like he’s hardly been away.
He smiles at me over her shoulder and I swallow.
It’s just me he’s still awkward with. But that’s understandable, my family didn’t hurt him.
“This is Oliver, my husband.” She leads him over to Oliver and introduces them.
“We run a holiday business, renting out our own villas in Spain as well as acting as agents for a few other owners in the area.” Oliver offers his hand to Charley, who shakes it, and Oliver puts his arm across Immy’s shoulders.
I’ll always be grateful to Oliver for stepping in and buying our villa when I needed to sell it.
It started his business and it’s how he met Immy.
I’m also glad the villa has stayed within the family and I can still use it occasionally.
Philips appears and announces that dinner is ready.
My mother likes to uphold some traditions and I go over to her, offering my arm so I can escort her in.
This doesn’t happen every day, rarely at all, family dinners are much more informal, but as Charley’s a guest, my mother wanted to make the effort.
I show my mother to her seat at the head of the table.
By rights that’s where I should sit, and when we have enough people to fill the table, which seats twelve, I usually take the end opposite her.
But I know she prefers being at the head where she can keep an eye on everything, and as there are only five of us, I’m happy to sit to her left.
I’ve put Charley next to me, with Immy and Oliver opposite.
Philips serves the soup and we start. We talk about Immy and Oliver’s business, with Charley asking lots of questions. After the bowls are cleared and the main course served, talk turns to the centre.
“How are the plans for opening going?” Oliver asks, and I glance at Charley to see if he wants to answer. He nods at me and begins to explain, very positively I’m pleased to see.
“The only problem I have is making sure we get enough promotion. We need to find a marketing person.”
“What about Oscar?” Oliver sits back slightly, aiming the question at me.
“Who’s Oscar?” Charley swings his head between us, looking confused.
“Oliver’s brother,” I reply and turn back to Oliver. “Is he in marketing? I thought he was a showjumper.”
“He’s both. He has a degree in media and marketing and has been working for Renown magazine for a few years, but he wants to set up on his own.”
“So he knows the equestrian world as well?” Charley leans forward, interested.
“He’s competed here and in Europe. He’s been on the Nation’s cup team a couple of times as well,” Oliver explains and I can almost hear Charley’s brain processing the information.
I’ve met Oscar a couple of times, one of them when he was Oliver’s best man at his wedding to Immy.
He seems like a decent guy, but I didn’t know he was also working for Renown. It’s an exclusive lifestyle magazine.
“It’s not polo, but showjumping is pretty elite.” Charley looks at me as if he needs my permission. He doesn’t, he’s the manager, who he hires is his decision. I give him a little shrug to show it’s up to him and he gives me a little grin before turning back to Oliver.
“If you think he’d be interested, I’d like to meet him. Would he be able to come over on Monday?” he asks.
“I’ll ask him straight after dinner. I think he’d be thrilled to have the opportunity,” Oliver replies.
As we turn back to finishing our food, Charley’s knee nudges mine under the table.
The gesture takes me back years. It’s something we used to do when we wanted to get each other’s attention at dinner without anyone else noticing.
A secret code. Usually it was around something my parents or Immy said.
A word, phrase, or story to be remembered and brought up later for amusement when we were alone.
Or to dare each other silently not to giggle.
My head snaps round to look at him. His mouth is quirked into a smile and his eyes are shining.
He’s excited about the possibility of solving the marketing problem and he wanted to share that with me.
Something snaps in my chest, like an elastic band pinging back into place, and suddenly he feels like the old Charley.
Our old friendship is clicking back into place.
I smile back and nudge him with my knee like we’re sixteen again, and he grins quickly, focusing on his plate before anyone else notices.
I barely notice what we talk about for the rest of the meal.
I can’t think past how relieved I am to have my friend back.
The feeling of completeness only increases when we return to the drawing room and Charley takes his old seat on the low stool by the side of the fireplace, inviting the hounds over to be fussed over and encouraging them to lie at his feet.
I make him a cup of tea, recalling that he likes it with lemon after dinner.
“You remembered,” he whispers as he takes it from me, and his smile makes my stomach fizz a little. I settle into my place, the armchair closest to Charley, so close I can almost touch him, but I don’t. I’m happy just to be in his company.
“What are you going to do about Charley?” Immy asks casually, her legs draped across Oliver’s lap as she sips her drink. Charley just left and mother has gone up to bed, so it’s just the three of us left.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I reply curtly, pretending not to know what she’s on about.
“Oh c’mon, the fact that you looked doe-eyed at him all evening. It was frankly quite sickening.”
“That was being friendly, we’re just friends. I was making sure he didn’t feel awkward being back here again.”
“The only awkwardness was you looking at him like you wanted him for dessert.”
“Did not.” I fall into sibling bickering too easily, and she gives me a sly smile that says she knows she’s found me out.
“Have you told him you fancy the arse off him?”
“No,” I sigh. “He’s had a bad experience and now has a rule where he won’t entertain any sort of relationship with someone he works for.”
“Whoops, looks like your plan isn’t quite working out.”
“The plan was to get Charley back as he’s the best person for the job. I’d say that was a success.”
“And the rest?” She raises an eyebrow at me.
“We’re just friends.” I set my teeth and hear her soft derisive snort.
I stand and put my glass on the tray. I don’t want to talk about it any more.
That familiar feeling of connection I had when I first met Charley and made him my friend is back.
The hole in my soul that has been a void for nearly ten years has been filled, and that’s more important than anything.
It’s too bad if I want more. I’m not going to jeopardise our friendship again.