Chapter 24
24
Seamus had said that he’d pick me up around eleven o’clock the following morning, to go to the local timber merchants. I had a very leisurely start to the day; my plan was to sit in bed drinking coffee and reading but the view from my window was just too good, and to sit and watch the grasses gently sway in the wind and the ebb and flow of the sea beyond was totally mesmerising. Would I ever take it for granted? I sincerely hoped not.
By around ten o’clock, I’d showered and left my hair to dry naturally, which meant it should fall into tousled waves, but there were times when it just went into wild curls instead. Today was one of those days. But as I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, I had decided that I didn’t actually care. I had about an hour to myself and so I sat at my sewing machine and continued with another of the cushions that I’d made last weekend. Even though I said so myself, it was a good effort. When you had a massive house to buy soft furnishings for, to buy all new would have cost a fortune, so this was my way of keeping costs low. I’d ordered one roll of material online in the hope it would do the job and when it arrived it surprised me by being absolutely stunning. The photographs on the website didn’t do it justice and it was incredibly reasonably priced too.
Lost in a world of my own, I was humming along to a tune on the radio from the eighties which I hadn’t heard for years, when I had the shock of my life by a hammering at the front door. Looking at my watch, I could see it wasn’t yet eleven. Was it Seamus and he was early? He was normally bang on time.
The hammering continued.
‘All right. I’m coming.’
When I opened the door, Michelle was leaning against the doorframe with a big smile on her face.
‘Get your gladrags on, Mrs. We’re heading out.’
‘I can’t, Michelle. Seamus is coming to pick me up shortly. We’ve got some errands to run.’
‘Actually, you haven’t. We got Seamus to tell you he was coming but you’re actually coming out with Emma and me for the day.’ She thumbed behind her, to Emma who waved from Michelle’s passenger seat.
I was now totally confused. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Now if we told you that it would spoil the surprise, wouldn’t it?’
‘I hate surprises though.’
‘Tough. Go and get your bag and your coat if you need one. We promise it’s a nice surprise, by the way. You just have to trust us.’
I’d hated surprises since Michael organised a last-minute weekend away to Paris. He’d arranged for the girls to stay with my mum and I was excited about how thoughtful he’d been. It was somewhere I’d always wanted to go. But when we arrived, he revealed he’d arranged a meeting with a potential client and the two of them spent the afternoon getting drunk in the hotel bar, while he packed me off to explore Paris on my own. I tried to make the best of it, but when I got back to the hotel, Michael was so drunk he passed out and spent the evening in bed, and so I spent the evening staring at the hotel room wall. So despite it being one of the most romantic cities in the world, I always cringed whenever anyone mentioned it. It certainly didn’t hold special memories for me and there were certainly no ooh la las coming from our hotel room.
I slammed the front door behind me and, despite feeling sorry for myself due to a slight hangover, just being in the company of these two ladies soon lifted my spirits. Even though I should probably have been feeling a little apprehensive as I had no clue where I was going, I knew that it would be somewhere good. I knew in my heart that they would never let me down.
We literally only drove to the house which was next door, even though it was up the lane a little from me, which confused me even more. When we reached a pair of big automatic wrought-iron gates and Michelle pressed the buzzer to seek admittance, the girls declared that we’d arrived at our destination. As we drove through the gates, the house that stood before us took my breath away. A big glass-fronted stone house, which might possibly have been an enormous barn in a previous life; modern architecture mixing old and new in true style.
The car’s tyres crunched on the gravel drive as we came to a stop beside a huge stone fountain.
As we climbed out, the double entrance doors were flung open and a vision dressed in cream from head to toe appeared before us in the form of one of the most glamorous women I’d ever seen. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant chignon with soft wavy tendrils framing her face. She was wearing subtle but beautiful make-up, and a scarf tied tightly around her neck in a small side bow completed her chic and stylish look. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she raced across to Emma and flung her arms around her.
‘Emma darling. It’s been way too long.’ She pushed her away to arm’s length. ‘Let me look at you. Yes, gorgeous. You’ll still do. How are you, my darling? How are you coping with life on your own? Have you adapted?’
They clearly knew each other well and Michelle and I looked at each other and grinned. It took a while before they remembered we were there as they chatted amongst themselves.
‘God, I’m sorry. Jo. Michelle. I’d like you to meet my very good friend Agatha Nightingale.’
‘Oh, please call me Aggie. My full name makes me sound like a ninety-year-old cosy crime writer.’ We all laughed at that. ‘Do come in. I’ll show you around the new house in a bit, ladies, but you’ll have to excuse a lot of it. There’s shite everywhere.’ I laughed, always finding it funny when posh people swore. ‘But first, let’s have tea on the patio.’
She guided us into the house, her heels click-clacking on the tiled floor of the very impressive entrance hall, with high apex roofs and floor-to-ceiling windows. All I could think about was how she kept them clean and that she couldn’t possibly have any children or animals. The door to the left led up three small steps into a lounge area where trifold doors opened straight up onto a gorgeous patio area with a huge swimming pool. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. If I could have dreamt the perfect house, this would be it.
‘Under here OK?’ She guided us to a rattan seating area, under a gazebo, the focal point being the sea in the distance.
‘It’s beautiful, Aggie. Thanks so much for having us over.’
‘You are so very welcome, ladies. It’s lovely to have you. Ah, here’s Calista now.’
A young stylish girl, I would have placed in her late teens, early twenties at a push, placed the tea tray on the coffee table after wishing us all a good morning.
Aggie shuffled forwards towards the tray. ‘I’ll pour. Thank you, darling. Is Scott back yet?’
‘I haven’t seen him yet, Aggie.’
The girl smiled sweetly and almost glided out of the room. What was it with the people in this house? They all seemed to have had the elegant memo.
As Aggie sat back in her chair after dishing drinks out to everyone, her shoe dangling off the edge of her foot, I caught a flash of a red sole.
‘Scott is my husband,’ she explained. ‘He’s gone out for a run with the dog. Poor man doesn’t know what to do with himself these days. I do wish these football clubs looked after their ex-players a bit better once they’ve retired.’
I wasn’t a huge football fan, so had no idea who she was married too, but hadn’t heard of a player called Scott Nightingale. The slam of a door and the woof of a dog signified that we might be about to meet him.
My mouth must have literally dropped open when one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen walked into the room, swigging from a water bottle. It was only Scott Foster. He had been a goalkeeper for one of the top London premiership teams. Even I recognised him.
‘Sorry to interrupt, babe. I just thought I’d come and let you know I was back and see if anyone wanted a cuppa but I can see you’re already sorted.’ He smiled at Aggie, leant down, kissed her tenderly and then nervously raised a hand in a wave to the rest of us.
‘Urgh, get your big sweaty gorgeous body away from me and go and shower.’ She grinned back at him and slapped him on the backside as he walked away from her and shouted, ‘Bye, ladies.’
Still gaping, Emma laughed at me.
‘You OK there, Jo? You’re dribbling a bit.’
‘Ha. Not quite, but it’s not every day Scott Foster offers you a cup of tea!’
‘Ah yes, I forgot to mention that I’d discovered recently that Aggie and Scott had moved in next door to you.’
‘Probably not helped by the fact that we have different names. I wanted to make sure I kept my own identity and people didn’t think that I was only useful because I was married to a famous footballer.’
‘And how is he doing now?’ Emma asked.
Aggie sighed. ‘Getting there, I think. Not a discussion for today as we’ll be here all day. Anyway, it’s time to talk about why you ladies are here. What magic can I weave for you today, Emma?’ she asked.
‘Well, our friend Jo here has a wedding to go to soon. It’s her daughter’s wedding and her ex-husband and his girlfriend, who also used to be Jo’s best friend, will also be there. So Jo wants to look like a complete and utter knockout in their presence. Can you help with that?’
‘Thanks, friends. I love you both very much but you’ve made me sound like a right blooming loser.’
‘Well… if the cap…’
‘Thanks a bunch, Michelle.’
‘Ah, you know we’re only joking with you. Aggie, why don’t you tell Jo a little bit more about what you do and it might start to make a little more sense.’
‘Great idea. So, Jo.’ Aggie leant forward in her chair and whispered, ‘I groom girls.’