Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
I drove slowly to the station, everything that had happened that day swirling around in my head. I pulled into the short stay car park at York Station and took a moment to admire my surroundings; being inside the station itself, the car park was beautiful with its curved roof, rows of brick arches and circular windows. Mind you, the fact I could park at all was pretty beautiful, I thought, locking Constance’s car and heading for the concourse. The last time I had driven in London, it had been a choice between parking a twenty-minute walk from my destination or paying over ten pounds an hour to park any closer. I sat down in a small café and texted Sam to let him know where I was, then settled down to wait, scalding my lips with hot coffee as I watched the people go by and listened to someone bashing out Christmas carols on the nearby public piano. Only ten minutes had passed when he arrived. I stood up to hug him.
‘I know it’s only been a day or so, but I’m so glad to see you!’
‘Me too, but it’s bloody cold up here.’
‘I know, I had to buy a whole new wardrobe. I did warn you. Do you want a coffee to warm up?’
‘Why not?’
He sat down and I ordered another couple of hot drinks as he filled me in on the final pieces of work he had done before shutting up the office for Christmas.
‘So, how’s the handsome one-day-to-be-lord-of-the-manor?’ Sam asked.
I pulled a face.
‘Not sure.’
‘What’s happened? I thought things were going well. You didn’t believe your own publicity about being like Jacqueline, did you? Oh, Fallon!’
I spilled out the story of how I’d been late back and upset Theo, but even to my own ears it was sounding a bit thin, especially in the light of the various talkings to I’d had that day.
‘…so I decided it was the best thing to do…’ I trailed off miserably.
‘And can I divine from the look on your face that you no longer think that?’ asked Sam tartly.
‘Oh, I don’t know. I was very sure, and now I just feel confused. But can you really see me making a decent job of motherhood?’
‘Well, for a start…’ He began ticking things off on his fingers, which was always a bad sign with Sam. I was in real trouble. ‘For a start, you’ve only known this man for a few weeks, so aren’t you jumping the gun a bit?’
‘I know that’s how it seems, but what’s the point of starting something if I can’t see a future in it?’
He snorted, unimpressed.
‘Secondly, we have already had the conversation about you being – or not being – like Jacqueline. Thirdly, the situation is completely different. And fourthly – oh, it doesn’t matter what I think. What do you think, truthfully?’
‘Well, part of me thinks Theo might have been right – we’ve been silly.’
Sam folded his arms in triumph and sat back. ‘Right. So now the question remains: what are you going to do about it?’
I raised an eyebrow.
He drained his coffee and continued, ‘Okay. You know I’m here for you, whatever you decide. Actually here , in this freezing outpost!’
I laughed.
‘I think you’ll find that York is not only a pretty important city, but incredibly beautiful and vibrant,’ I said, sounding like a tour guide.
‘Ah, gotcha! You’re defending it! London might lose you yet.’
‘We’ll see. Come on, let’s get back to the house.’
‘I can’t wait.’
Twenty minutes later, we were pulling up on the drive and as I put on the handbrake, I turned and grinned at Sam, who was gazing up at the house in amazement.
‘What do you think?’
‘The photos you sent didn’t do it justice – it’s huge.’
‘Yup. Incredible, isn’t it? And, even better, you’re staying here.’
He turned to me.
‘What? I thought I was at the pub in the village.’
‘Not unless you’d prefer to be. When Alexander heard I’d booked you a room there, he practically insisted I cancel it and invited you here. Is that okay?’
‘Okay? You bet it’s okay! My mum won’t know what to do with herself when I send her the pictures. She never misses an episode of Escape to the Country now Dad’s not there to tell her what she is and isn’t allowed to watch.’
Sam’s mother had finally kicked his abusive father out about six months previously and, according to him, she was now blissfully happy.
‘Another thing she’s enjoying, I’m glad.’
‘You won’t be when she rocks up on the doorstep.’
I laughed and opened the car door.
‘I wouldn’t mind – I like your mum.’
Once inside the house, we left Sam’s bags at the foot of the stairs and went into the Great Hall, which was empty.
‘I don’t know where everyone is,’ I said. ‘Maybe Coco will be in the kitchen. She’s lovely.’
‘Coco?’
As we continued through, I quickly explained the various relationships amongst those staying at Blakeney Hall, and when I pushed open the kitchen door, I was glad I had, for everyone had congregated there, watching Estelle give Mum her cooking lesson.
‘Sam! Darling! How gorgeous to see you! Look, I’m all floury, did you ever think you’d see the day?’
Sam went and gave my mother a kiss.
‘I didn’t, but I’m sure you’ll brush it off for cocktails later,’ he said with a wink.
I introduced him to everyone else and he was greeted with their customary warmth, especially by Alexander who said how pleased he was to have Sam at the house rather than the pub and thanked him for the help he would give with the engagement party. We were found chairs and presented with cups of tea to watch Act Two of the lesson which, with Estelle and Mum in starring roles and Coco tasked with taking photos and video clips to show everyone’s best side on their social media accounts, was more like an episode of Mayfair Mews than a simple class in how to make mince pies.
‘Now, Jacqueline,’ said Estelle briskly. ‘You have successfully made your pastry. Do you remember the name of the technique we used?’
‘Rubbing in!’ said Mum, with a dazzling smile, playing her role of star student to the max.
‘Good. And now we’re going to briefly work our pastry, then cut it. Ready?’
There seemed to me to be an unnecessary amount of flour now flying around, making, no doubt, for excellent photos. I noticed Mum surreptitiously dab a little on the end of her nose before turning, laughing, towards the camera. Cheesy it may have been, but I also admired her savvy. And what’s more, it did look as if they were having fun. Was she right, was coming out of your comfort zone a good thing? Or was I just beguiled by the Jacqueline Honeywood Show and would find her ordering macrobiotic smoothies for delivery again tomorrow, with nothing changed?
‘There we go, next we’re going to put the filling in and after fifteen minutes in the oven and a little cooling time they’ll be ready to eat,’ announced Estelle. ‘Now, who’s going to do the washing up?’
‘I will!’ said Theo, who had been laughing throughout the whole thing.
‘I’ll help you,’ said Constance, standing up. ‘Then hopefully we’ll be here for first tastings,’ she added, grinning at the little boy.
‘Shall we go and put together our ideas for the party?’ I said to Sam and Alexander.
‘Yes, let’s,’ said Alexander, ‘but don’t finish off those mince pies without us!’
We went through to his office and sat down. I brought up the list of ideas so far that I had on my phone, while Alexander asked Sam about his journey. I peeped over the top of my phone as they chatted, thinking how kind and warm Alexander was, welcoming this stranger into his house with open arms. Oh well, I will soon be back in London and life would go on , I thought firmly, before saying, ‘Right, here’s what we’ve got so far.’
They jumped at my sudden business-like tone, but turned to listen.
‘Okay, so, Estelle and Coco are going to do the catering, thank goodness. And even better, they’re going to liaise with Mum and Douglas about what food they want, the budget and so on. Alexander, you said you knew the local wine merchants – are you good to talk to them about drinks?’
‘Yes, I can do that. I’ll just need some guidance on how much for the number of people coming. I’ll provide the gin, of course.’
‘Great. Numbers are still up in the air, I’m afraid. Mum and Douglas gave me a list almost immediately, which looked suspiciously modest. I sent out “save the dates” but since then she’s added at least thirty people, most of whom live in London. I have no idea how likely it is that they’ll make it, given that it’s a two-hundred mile journey a week and a half before Christmas.’
‘I’d put my money on most of them being here,’ said Sam shrewdly. ‘Who’s going to want to turn down an invitation to Jacqueline Honeywood’s engagement party, even if it is in the middle of nowhere? No offence,’ he added, glancing at Alexander.
‘None taken. I can’t be bothered to travel five miles for most parties, but I guess Jacqueline has a certain pull.’
‘Can I see who she’s added?’ asked Sam. I handed him my phone and he cast his professional eye down the list. ‘Clever Jacqueline,’ he said, grinning. ‘She’s not bothered with some of her nearest and dearest – saving those for the London party, I suppose – but she’s added a fair few gossip writers and ladies who lunch, all of whom will be very useful for spreading the word about Her Future Ladyship’s exclusive stately home bash. I’d guess most of these will sack off whatever else they’ve got planned and make the journey. Is there a magazine coming?’
‘Well, I think that’s why she’s added these people. Everything was too crammed already to offer anything more than a photographer for the diary pages, so these people will boost the publicity nicely.’
Alexander shook his head.
‘This is a new world to me. Forgive me, but it all seems so…cynical.’
‘It is and it isn’t,’ I replied. ‘She knows that she has to keep bolstering her public profile, for the good of her career, so any opportunity is ripe for using. Look at how she pounced on her poor, broken daughter in order to produce some kind of Fairy Godmother transformation she could bung on her grid? But I don’t think it’s always for show.’ I paused, not quite sure how to express out loud the new feelings I had had recently about Mum. I decided to steer away from the subject of our relationship. ‘She really, really loves Douglas, I can tell. We may not be that close, but I know her well – or, at least, I’ve known her for a long time – and I’ve never seen her like this. I honestly believe that you could strip away the title and the stately home and the magazine deals and she’d still marry him in a heartbeat. It may not be her usual modus operandi , but it’s the real thing.’
Alexander nodded slowly.
‘I’m glad. I thought so too. Thank you, Fallon.’
I dropped my eyes and returned quickly to my list.
‘Right, so our big focus now is getting the invitations printed and sent out, which is panicking me. We’ve so little time, but they’re both insisting on “proper” invitations, not digital ones.’
‘I think it’ll be all right,’ said Sam. ‘Because of the save the dates, we already have an idea of who’s coming, so we’ve got a rough idea of numbers, and we can ask for replies by email, rather than post. If they don’t mind printed envelopes, instead of handwritten, I’ve got a friend who does lovely stationery and owes me a favour. He’ll get something classic out tomorrow if I give him a ring. Or do they want to design them?’
‘Classic will be fine with Dad,’ said Alexander.
‘And I’ll take this one if Mum complains,’ I said. ‘Please make the call.’
We went on to plan for waiting staff, chairs and tables, flowers and entertainment, until we all had something to follow up.
‘At least they didn’t insist on it being themed,’ I said. ‘That would have been a step too far.’
‘Don’t say that too loudly,’ said Alexander, with his lovely smile. ‘Dad might hear you and you know his weakness.’
‘I’ll be careful. I wouldn’t put it past Mum to dig out that Octopussy outfit again.’
Sam laughed.
‘Your mother is priceless. I hope she likes the job we do on the party – maybe she’ll finally hire us once we’re home? Talking of which, I must confirm my train ticket for Sunday.’
‘You’re welcome to stay for Christmas, Sam,’ said Alexander. ‘We’d be glad to have you.’
Before I could stop myself, and before Sam had a chance to reply, I waded in.
‘Actually, Sam, I was thinking of coming back with you. I’m feeling much better now, and London is such fun at Christmas – we could go out for lunch together, seeing as your mum’s away?’
Both men were staring at me in surprise.
‘What about the Christmas Fayre?’ asked Alexander. ‘If you go on Sunday, you’ll miss it.’
In my confusion, I had forgotten all about it. Alexander looked so hurt and worried that I was desperate to run to him, throw my arms around him, tell him what a fool I was being. But, unable to stop myself, I just carried on.
‘You’ll be fine without me,’ I said, trying to sound casual, but knowing my voice sounded strangulated. ‘All the prep will be finished and all you’ll have to do is drive up, park and sell. You’ll be a hit. You don’t need me.’
You don’t need me. The words that summed up everything I had been agonising over, that sounded so confident but felt so painful. I could feel the familiar throb start up behind my left eye and I put my hand to my forehead.
‘Fallon…’ said Sam, knowing the signs. ‘Do you need to get something for your head?’
I nodded and left the room quickly, offering an ironic word of gratitude to the gods of headaches for their timing, whilst knowing it was me who was responsible for triggering it with my own stress and stubbornness. Most people, I thought as I took some tablets and put a cold flannel on my forehead, would have followed their hearts, seen if things might work with Alexander. Why did I find it so impossible to do the same?
As typically happens, I was overcome with a tremendous fatigue and fell asleep, waking a couple of hours later to find the room dim, lit only by the screen of a laptop where Sam was working. I sat up cautiously, dislodging Runcible, who had snuggled herself in comfortingly beside me. Sam looked up.
‘Hey,’ he said quietly. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘All right, I think,’ I replied. ‘I took my stuff quickly, so it didn’t get too much of a grip.’ Anxiety suddenly flooded me. ‘Oh no, I was going to start looking round for bands, so I’d better get on with it now.’
I went to stand up, only to be subjected to a wave of dizziness and forced to sit down again quickly. Sam put his computer to the side and came over to join me, putting an arm around my shoulder.
‘It’s fine, Fallon. I got the invitations sorted, so I’ve been looking into entertainment. Although,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘everyone who’s got back to me so far has been booked up for months, so I’ve no idea what we’ll end up with. It’s just the flowers left to do, and I have a couple of names – you could call them tomorrow.’
I rested my head on his shoulder.
‘Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here. Sorry to have bailed like that; I didn’t even show you where your room was.’
‘It’s okay, Alexander took me up. He’s a nice guy.’
I know! screamed a voice inside me. I know! But I didn’t reply. Sam continued:
‘I’m still worried about you. You seem better than you were, but you’re still not okay. What was all that about coming back to London with me for Christmas? That’s not what you want to do, is it?’
Tears started leaking out of my eyes and trickling down my cheeks.
‘I don’t know. He’s still being so nice, and he hasn’t tried to change my mind. I think he’s decided I was right to break it off, and now it’s too late even if I did want to change my mind, but I don’t know if I do or not.’
I was properly sobbing now, and Sam squeezed my shoulder and let me cry. He was unembarrassed by tears and had given me a wet shoulder or two in the past, so I didn’t mind bawling all over him. For a moment, my head responded by flaring with pain again, but it soon ebbed and began to feel clearer.
As I quietened, he said, ‘Judging by the way he was looking at you, I don’t think it’s that at all. If he’s not arguing, I reckon it’s because he’s a decent man who is respecting your decision, whether he likes it or agrees with it or not. A unicorn.’
This set off a fresh round of sobbing.
What had I thrown away?