Chapter 13
The bar was starting to fill up and some late additions joined the shooting party; more middle-aged men, whom the younger men treated with jovial respect.
Two young women also came in looking for a table for supper.
They clearly knew Julian and joined the shooting crowd for pre-dinner drinks.
One of them in particular made a great fuss of Julian and hung on his arm talking and laughing very loudly.
As she babbled and giggled she swept her hand through her hair, flicking her blond mane from one side of her face to the other.
When her hands weren’t busy with her hair, she used them to gesticulate wildly.
She emphasised each point she made by reaching out and touching Julian’s arm.
Abby was reminded of Gladys Hobbin, a parlour maid she had once employed who caused uproar below stairs by setting her cap at the second footman, the under butler and also the butcher.
Abby was surprised to glean from the conversation that this ‘Jessica’ was Sebastian’s wife.
She had rather presumed she was a single female.
However on consideration she remembered that Sebastian had forcefully reminded her of a man who liked to pinch and squeeze parlour maids. Perhaps they were well suited.
Abby decided life, and indeed death, was too short to listen to any more of Jessica’s banal comments and she moved over to stand behind Lara.
Ron was also there asking if Lara would like another glass of wine.
From the anxious glance he gave Julian Armstrong it seemed that the landlord was fully aware the effect his presence was having on Lara.
A perceptive man, and a kind one, Abby thought.
It also seemed that Lara was right – everyone did know her business.
Lara shook her head. ‘No thanks, Ron, I have the van outside and I’m heading home soon.’ Lara was just reaching for her bag when a loud peevish voice cut across the bar.
‘…he would have been better off at the supermarket, really they’re not going to last more than a day. And such a shame as Sebby had gone to a lot of effort to get me some flowers for my birthday. They weren’t even wrapped very nicely.’ Jessica flicked her hair once more.
Lara froze. Abby moved imperceptibly closer to her side.
Keeping her head down and busying herself looking for her van keys in her bag Lara whispered angrily, ‘The arse! He said the flowers I gave him were just for one night. Shit, shit, shit!’ Having located her keys Lara muttered to Abby, ‘What can I say? I can’t tell Jesicca her husband’s a cheapskate. ’
Nobody else in the bar heard Lara’s half-whispered conversation. But they did hear her wine glass smash on the floor as she caught it with her bag as she turned to leave. Everyone in the bar looked at her. Lara coloured up to the roots of her hair and started to pick up the pieces of glass.
She was saved by Ron who miraculously appeared at her side, dustpan and brush in hand.
‘Don’t you worry, I’ll sort that out in a trice.
’ He took the glass from her, just seconds before another person reached out and grabbed Lara’s hand, pulling her bodily into the centre of the group around the bar.
‘I will not have you say a bad word about our town florist,’ Julian Armstrong said defensively, wrapping an arm about Lara’s waist and pulling her to his side.
‘We’re lucky to have her.’ He gave her waist a squeeze.
‘Don’t you listen to them, Lara.’ He smiled down at her, put his lips close to her hair and whispered, ‘They don’t know you like I know you. ’
Maybe it was the disgruntled look on Jessica’s face, maybe it was the feeling of Julian’s breath on her neck, but Lara could not help herself. She looked up at him and she smiled.
Abigail Rossmore was not smiling. ‘Please ask Mr Armstrong to unhand you, Lara. That is not the behaviour of a gentleman,’ she declared.
Lara let out a startled laugh.
‘That’s right Lara,’ Julian sympathised, ‘laugh in the face of their criticism. That’s the best way.’ He turned her towards him so they were standing facing each other, and catching his fingers in her apron straps pulled her towards him. ‘Let me get you another glass of wine,’ he said.
Lara tried to step away. ‘No, really, I must go. And anyway I’m driving.’
Julian put his mouth even closer to her ear and breathed, ‘Then let me bring a bottle of wine around for you later then. You’re looking hot tonight, Miss McGregor. All that wild hair is doing something to me.’ He flicked casual fingers through her dishevelled ponytail.
There was no knowing what Lara might have said in return to this suggestion, because Abigail got in first. ‘If that gentleman,’ she said with thick sarcasm, ‘turns up at your house later on this evening, Miss McGregor, I will be there as your chaperone and I will not be leaving.’ She paused and added thoughtfully, ‘I will probably sing. And probably very loudly. And unlike my mother who was a fine alto, I do not have a good singing voice. Although it is said,’ she added smugly, ‘that I play the pianoforte extremely well.’
Lara sat down heavily on a nearby bar stool, looking flustered, half torn between laughter and half wanting to shout at Abby.
It did not help that the warmth of Julian’s hand on her back was making her lose all sense of herself.
Without anyone else seeing he moved his hand up her back and stroked his finger along the nape of her neck.
Julian now turned and addressed the shooting party.
‘I have seen with my own eyes what this woman can do with her hands.’ There was much guffawing from the men.
‘No, no, you mucky buggers.’ Julian continued, holding up a hand to stop the laughter, ‘I’ve seen her work wonders with flowers and this lady,’ he said, winking at Lara, ‘is a true artist. I mean it when I say the town is lucky to have her.’ He added, looking at Jessica, ‘I don’t know where Seb got your birthday flowers, Jess, but I bet it wasn’t Lara who served him.
Maybe it was that town girl who helps out.
’ He made the last part of his sentence a question and said ‘town girl’ like this was clearly someone well beneath his notice.
He looked down expectantly at Lara.
She was at a total loss. She felt she couldn’t say to Sebastian’s friends and wife that he had cheated his way to some old flowers for Jessica’s birthday, and yet she didn’t want them to spread it about town that she was a bad florist. So Lara nodded, ‘It must have been Becky,’ she lied.
‘I’ll have a word with her.’ She could not bring herself to look at Abby.
Which was just as well, because at that precise moment, her Kindred Spirit could not bring herself to look at her.
Ron called the shooting party over to the dining room, announcing that they were ready to serve their meal.
Lara extracted herself from the group and stood with her back to the bar as they drifted off.
Julian loitered for a moment checking with apparent concern that Lara was all right and then was soon ensconced once more with his friends.
She was just about to turn away when she heard someone calling her.
‘Miss McGregor! Ah, Miss McGregor! Glad I caught you.’
Lara looked up and saw a late entry to the shooting party walking smartly towards her. ‘Mr Porter,’ she said in some surprise, ‘I didn’t see you there.’
Lady Porter had been a handsome woman and in this respect her son took after her.
He had regular features with well-defined bone structure and luxuriant hair which he wore curling up over the top of his collar.
Lara suspected he spent a considerable amount of time blow drying his hair and she wondered if he did this to add to his height.
For while Lady Porter had been a tall woman, Richard was an extremely short man.
Richard Porter pulled his stomach in and drew himself up as he addressed Lara.
She was forcibly reminded of a belligerent cockatoo.
‘Call around to see Penny in the morning, would you.’ It was not a request, but an order. ‘She needs flowers for her latest exhibition. And she wants to tell you about a note my mother left.’
Lara physically jumped.
‘What? What’s that?’ Richard declared, disconcerted.
Before she could answer he recommenced, ‘It seems Mother wanted you to have a few of her vases. Penny will explain. Mind you, only the best flowers for us. No rubbish,’ he added, glancing in Jessica’s direction.
Lara was half thinking about trying to explain the ‘misunderstanding’ with Sebastian but then realised she would have been talking to thin air. The Honourable Richard Porter was already on his way to his dinner, the heels of his smart brogues sounding a sharp rhythm on the floorboards of the pub.
Lara sighed and tried to adjust her fast-disintegrating ponytail.
A voice at her shoulder said, ‘Don’t worry about him, Lara.
He’s all hot air.’ She turned gratefully to see that Ron was back behind the bar.
He lowered his voice, ‘I wouldn’t mind the Lord of the Manor stuff so much if he would pay his bloody tab once in a while,’ he confided.
Ron obviously had not been talking quietly enough as a voice joined in from the end of the bar ‘Him! Pay his bills? Don’t make me laugh!’
Lara looked around and recognised one of the local builders who was sitting up at the bar with a friend enjoying a pint.
His friend joined in. ‘Most round here won’t work for him anymore. I fixed the drainage on his swimming pool a year ago and had to write it off in the end.’
‘I suppose it’ll be different now his mum’s died. He’ll come into a tidy packet,’ the builder supposed.
His friend shrugged. ‘A leopard don’t change its spots,’ he prophesised into his pint. Had he but known it, the ghost who was standing directly behind him was in full agreement.
If somebody had told Lara earlier that day that she could look forward to having a quiet evening all to herself, she would have been delighted.
But the reality turned out to be very different from what she might have imagined.
She spent a totally and thoroughly miserable evening on her own.
There was no Abby to annoy her and no Julian calling by with a bottle of wine.
She knew she ought to be relieved about both, but the truth was Lara felt completely wretched.
What upset her most was her lie about Becky.
She knew it was unforgivable. So why, she asked herself for the umpteenth time, had she said it?
Lara also recalled the dismissive way Julian had called her ‘that town girl’.
Why on earth hadn’t she spoken up and objected?
Lara tried reading, she tried catch-up TV and then she tried to work. But nothing distracted her. In the end she reached for her phone and called her mum.
‘Hello, sweetheart,’ came the expected greeting. A pause followed. She could hear her mum talking to someone in the background. ‘Yes. Lara. Yes I know, yes I’ll tell her.’ Her mum was back, ‘Your dad says “Hi”, and to tell you he’s sent you a couple of bottles of wine he thinks you’ll like.’
Lara’s father was a member of a wine club and sending Lara a few bottles every month was his way of keeping in touch.
Lara’s mum added, ‘Your dad’s now talking about us going on a river cruise through the vineyards with Joy and Simon.
But I don’t know. Would we have enough to do I wonder?
I’ve heard the food is very good though, which would be nice.
And it’s all inclusive. Although we would have to dress for dinner, which your father wouldn’t like.
I’m wondering whether we might be better off with a couple of weeks in the Algarve like last year… ’
Lara let her mum’s chatter wash over her and found it vaguely comforting. ‘Your brother called and they had a lovely time for Gemma’s birthday. They went to London for the weekend and saw a show. Your present went down well apparently.’
At least she’d got something right, Lara thought. But then she immediately remembered it had been Becky’s suggestion. Which brought her back to square one.
‘Mum?’ she said hesitantly. But Lara did not know where to begin.
Her mother had no experience of running a business.
She had married young and brought up two children while occasionally working as a nurse.
Lara loved her mum very much but could not imagine how she could get her to understand even a tiny part of how she was feeling.
With years of comfortable, secure married life as her benchmark, it didn’t seem that she would be able to grasp the problems Lara was facing as a single woman trying to keep a flower shop going.
‘How’s Grandma?’ Lara asked, at a loss as to what to say. They talked some more and covered news of the family, her brother’s new car, the neighbour’s dog and her father’s bad knee. Lara’s mum eventually asked if she could come over and see her sometime soon.
‘Yes, Mum, that would be nice,’ Lara said, trying to sound enthusiastic. By now, Lara was on autopilot and was listening to her mum’s lengthy ramblings while she checked emails on her iPad. A sudden thought came to her. ‘Are you still on email, Mum?’
‘Of course I am,’ her mum said defensively. ‘It’s the only way to keep in touch with your nieces and your brother’s very good about uploading photographs for me…’
‘Okay, Mum,’ Lara interrupted, ‘I’m going to send you an email. I want to ask your advice.’
‘Do you, sweetheart?’ Her mother sounded bemused. ‘Well, I’ll do my best and see what I can do.’
They hung up and before Lara could change her mind she typed:
Hi Mum, Good to hear your news. I have done something wrong. It’s not a big thing, but I did lie about something and gave someone else the blame.
And before she could stop herself she added:
I don’t mean to forget birthdays and things, it is just I’m SO busy.
Love you, Lara x
She pressed send and went upstairs, throwing her iPad on the bed as she headed for a bath. She didn’t really expect her mum to get back to her straight away, but Lara thought she might just check once before she went to bed.
Lara heard her email ping as she was getting out of the bath. Towel gathered around her she grabbed her iPad.
Dear Lara,
Try and do the right thing and remember we can always find time for the things we think are important.
Love Mum x
For someone who could talk for Britain, her reply was remarkably succinct.
Lara wasn’t quite sure what to think. What was the right thing?
And how could she find time when she was always so busy?
Lara wished she could talk to Abby but she sensed that even if she left the bedroom door open she wasn’t going to see her Kindred Spirit tonight.
Lara put her iPad aside, got dry and sank into her bed. Then she tried hard not to dwell on what she might be doing with Julian Armstrong if she had said ‘yes’ to that bottle of wine.