Chapter Twenty-Seven
Movie Night
‘It’s too long since I saw this movie,’ Annie was saying as she made her way with an unusually quiet Harri past the Big House and into the parterre gardens where they’d been only two days before, only now the place was transformed.
Fairy lights led the way towards paired deckchairs, each headed with a low parasol also twined in twinkling lights. Every chair had a blanket folded neatly on the seat. The gardens were abuzz with activity. Hot-dog smells wafted in the cool afternoon air.
‘Only the English would think it was a good idea, sitting outside on Valentine’s Day after dark,’ Annie continued, but she drew her lips closed when Jasper Gold presented himself.
‘Tickets, please?’ he said. Annie set about rifling amongst her layers to find the pocket where they were stashed. ‘Only kidding, I sold them to you guys, remember? Step this way.’
Annie didn’t notice the glance the two men shared, and if she’d been paying better attention she’d have seen Harri growing conspicuously paler but with a look of determination in his eyes.
Jasper led them through the seating area and up the stone steps that had taken them onto the lawns on Wednesday. Only now the steps led to a little tepee, a pink tepee in fact, and the entire thing was bedecked in yellow roses.
‘What’s all this?’ said Annie, watching as Jasper drew apart the folds, tying them in place, to reveal a glowing pink interior of artfully arranged cushions on a softly carpeted ground sheet. Gold tealight lamps with holey cutouts cast mottled light across the fabric walls, and these hung amid silver stars and crystals, all shifting with the movement of the tent and casting shimmering sparkles everywhere.
‘VIP area, I guess,’ Harri said, not needing to take credit for this. It had been a group effort, after all. He had begged and borrowed and run around for two hours straight, rummaging through Big House Wedding Inc.’s storeroom of props and decorations. Patti and Samantha had helped too.
Jasper hung around long enough to exchange knowing nods with Harri and to wish Annie a nice evening.
‘Shall we?’ Harri put out a hand to walk Annie inside.
Stooping, she made her way into the cosy tent and sat on a squashy round cushion. Harri settled himself beside her, crossing his legs.
‘Why do I get the feeling this isn’t just Clove Lore busybodies mixing in?’ Annie asked, her nose wrinkled with suspicion.
‘Hah!’ Harri was glad she was looking around admiringly. He reached for the contents of the ice bucket at the back of the tent. ‘Champagne?’
She laughed in surprise as Harri loosened the cork and let it fly out of the tent onto the dark lawn with a pop. Her eyes sparkled as much as the liquid in their tall glasses as he proposed a toast.
‘To…’ he did the maths, ‘twelve years of friendship?’
She only hesitated a little before bringing her glass to his with a soft chime. ‘To friendship,’ she repeated.
As they took their first delicious, crisp sips, Harri arranged the blankets over their legs. Fuzzy, soft and new, he’d been delighted when he found them left over from a Big House wedding at Christmas.
The other movie-goers were noisily arriving and finding their seats. Harri watched them, returning their greetings, but each one of them was conspicuously not coming over to interrogate them.
‘That’s weird,’ Annie remarked. ‘They aren’t sticking their noses in?’
‘Very weird,’ Harri said, smiling, trying to ignore Jowan’s conspiratorial wink from over by the daffodil beds where he was helping Minty (wrapped from head to boot in vintage furs like she was in Dr Zhivago ) into her deckchair. They gripped mugs of steaming, spiced Shiraz.
The aroma from the drinks stall – hot chocolates with marshmallows and a great big pot of mulled wine – wafted in the air.
More and more people arrived. Patti and Austen, the heavily pregnant Joy and Monty, and little Radia in a Paddington Bear duffel coat sat together as one family.
Joy was asking Radia what she wanted to drink. ‘Hot chocolate or a babycino?’
‘Ugh, babycino!’ Radia sulked. ‘I’m not a baby.’
Joy, now settled in her deckchair, hauled her big girl up onto her lap and rocked her. Harri just made out the words. ‘Radia Pearl, you will always be Mummy’s baby, even when you’re a little old lady, okay?’ And the pair hugged and giggled, and Radia conceded that a babycino with extra marshmallows, ‘might be all right, actually’.
Their attention was drawn by the arrival of Estée Gold who was having something of a one-woman red carpet moment as she steamed into the garden in a great glittering gold frock and acres of bunched tulle wrapped around her arms. There was a smattering of confused applause from some of the tourists, and a loud whooping and appreciative catcalling from Leonid and Izaak, who were snuggled together under a duvet in their bobble hats. There were a few eye rolls and tuts as well, but it was all the same to Estée who was having the time of her life at her first launch night in many years.
‘Thank you, thank you,’ she said graciously as she lowered herself into a deckchair, only struggling a little with her massive gown. Finding herself stuck, she snapped her fingers for a drink and three village husbands jumped to their feet to assist. ‘How kind!’ she cooed.
Annie was finding all of this delightfully bonkers, of course.
‘I’m gonna miss these crackpots,’ she said laughing. Harri felt the joy blazing from her body, even through all their layers.
‘Rose for the lady, sir?’ came an irreverent Scottish voice.
Peeping their head around the flap of the tent they saw Jude Crawley in neck to toe hiking gear and an usherette’s headdress on top of her beanie.
‘Hey!’ Annie welcomed her. ‘You’re helping here too?’
‘That’s what we do,’ Jude replied, with a knowing stare aimed at Harri. She held out the bucket of single roses, each one wrapped in a brown paper cone.
Annie looked them over.
‘Go on, pick one,’ said Harri.
Annie was hesitant, her fingers passing over the deep velvet-red blooms, then over the soft pinks, landing on one of the yellow roses. ‘I’ll take this one, I think? Yellow, for friendship,’ she said, falteringly, and making to pull it free.
Harri stopped her with his fingers on the back of her hand. ‘How about… this one,’ he said, lifting out a lush red bloom. Jude discreetly made herself scarce as soon as he was done.
Annie was watching him, her lips parted, unsure what was going on.
He handed her the flower. ‘A long time ago, on our first Valentine’s Day, I gave you a bunch of yellow roses, and clearly, you remember.’
Annie screwed her mouth to show she did remember.
‘I wish I’d given you red roses then,’ he said. ‘I wish I’d given you red roses every Valentine’s Day.’
She held the flower to her, wordlessly. She seemed to be thinking hard.
Beneath them in the knot garden, the deckchairs were almost filled. The whole village was here, it seemed, and arriving just in time was a fish-out-of-water William Sabine, between Bella and Finan.
So they’d talked him into coming out on his last night in Clove Lore after all? Harri waved to him over all the heads, but William didn’t see him. He was clutching a vast box of popcorn and greeting the people around him as Bella wrapped him in blankets and tucked him into his chair with a hot water bottle.
Arriving late, and still looking contrite, having heard more details about the worry they’d caused, were the newlyweds, Bovis and his wife. Their arrival prompted a burst of applause.
‘Here,’ Jowan made a point of calling over the garden. ‘Izaak? I believe I owe you this?’ He held a ten-pound note in the air. ‘Now these two are officially wed!’
This prompted a lot of standing and rummaging in pockets and exchanging of notes amongst the village gossips.
‘What’s all this?’ Mrs Bovis-Crocombe wanted to know, watching the cash changing hands.
‘You thought you were the only one placing bets on love?’ said Leonid, pocketing his winnings.
‘We’ve had money on you pair for years,’ joined Jude, presenting Bovis with a rose to give to his new wife. ‘You made us wait, but I just earned a tenner off you!’
Mrs Crocombe-Bovis made to tut and protest but evidently thought better of it and sat, chuckling, at her husband’s side.
The movie was about to begin. Jasper was nervously scanning the crowd. Samantha watched him from the projection tent. She gave him an emphatic double thumbs up.
‘Friends and neighbours, welcome,’ he shouted, and the garden murmur dropped away. ‘This is the first Clove Lore Outdoor Film Society screening. I hope you enjoy tonight’s feature, When Harri Met Annie , I mean…’ he made a show of correcting his mistake, ‘… When Harry Met Sally .’ This engendered a lot of laughter and eyes turning towards the little pink tent where Harri’s cheeks glowed as pink as the tepee itself. ‘Enjoy the film, and Happy Valentine’s Day!’
Applause followed him to the booth and in moments the windowless grey wall at the side of Clove Lore Big House burst into silver light. Speakers around the gardens buzzed awake and the opening titles rolled.
‘I, eh, wanted to give you this earlier, but I chickened out,’ Harri said to Annie, pulling an envelope from his coat pocket in the comfy enclosure of their tent.
Annie didn’t say anything. She exchanged the envelope for her glass, her eyes wide.
‘Open it,’ he urged.
Annie freed the card from its envelope, the same card she’d seen him picking out late at night in the bookshop when he thought he was unobserved.
She opened it up.
Annwyl, be my Valentine and I’ll be yours.
When she lifted her eyes to his, she was brimming with questions, but her words seemed stoppered.
‘I wrote this a week ago, and kept it hidden, not knowing what to do,’ he said. ‘I’ve kept it all hidden, for years, how I’ve liked you.’
Annie looked from his face to the card to the rose. ‘I thought you were decided on us being just friends, after we talked in the glasshouse.’
‘I know, but we talked about it all the wrong way. The other day when I said we should get it out of our systems, I was totally wrong. I don’t want to get you out of my system, not ever.’
‘What do you want?’ Annie said, her face serious.
He turned his body to face her, drawing his knees beneath him, new urgency growing within him. ‘I want to ruin our friendship. I want to be your boyfriend. I want to help you with your job and taking on the book-ban people. I want to be there for you every day, making your morning coffee. I want you in my system, and me in yours, for keeps. If that’s something you want?’
‘How would that work, exactly?’ she said, still thinking hard, her eyes dancing across his face.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, catching her eyes as they fell. ‘ But! ’ He could not lose her now, not when he was finally making sense. ‘But, I was thinking I could come to Texas for a holiday?’
‘We’ve just had a holiday.’
‘And we both used this time to get our heads on straight, but I think we need more time together, without all the doubt and wondering. What do you say?’
‘You want to come to Amarillo?’
‘Definitely. Think how pleased your dad will be!’
This brought a laugh from her lips. Her eyes were sparkling again.
‘I need to fix this library stuff. It could get wild. It could be a long fight. Lifelong maybe?’
‘I’ve got the time,’ he said.
‘You can’t just follow me around helping me with my stuff. What about your own dreams? The things you need?’
This stopped him.
‘Be serious now,’ she told him, looking for all the world like everything depended on whatever he said next.
‘I have my barista wages saved up. I want to spend them doing something amazing.’ The words spilled out. It was his heart talking. ‘I’m going to have my own coffee shop. Like, the best coffee shop one day soon. You make me feel like I can achieve that. I swear I’m going to do it.’
Annie laughed in delight. ‘Yes you are!’
‘And I want you. That’s plenty for one man, I’d say.’
She drew her knees to her chest. ‘Can you get a plane ticket?’
His hand found his phone, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on her. ‘I already made my reservation.’
‘What the…?’
‘A couple of hours ago, when I realised I’d been thinking and talking but never doing anything. Same flight as you. See?’ He showed her his e-ticket.
Annie was on the move, casting aside the blankets. For a horrible second he wondered if she was making a run for it, but instead she pulled at the ribbons holding the tent flaps open. In seconds they were enclosed in soft pink light and she’d clambered across his lap with a leg on each side.
Harri blinked up at her. She was smiling wickedly, like all those times she’d hatched a plan and inveigled him into helping her execute it. She was pulling something from her coat pocket, handing it to him. A pink envelope.
He opened it in the small space between them. She watched him, smiling as he found her own Valentine’s card.
Inside it read:
If you’re sure; I’m sure.
He stared up at her in wonder. ‘When did you write this?’
‘I got up in the night to do it. I couldn’t risk not having a Valentine for you, not if you were going to give me one, and I’d hoped… I’d hoped very much you would.’
Nothing but warmth bloomed between them. Harri spread his hands across her back, pulling her nearer, lifting his mouth to hers.
‘Just a kiss,’ she said. ‘Because we have all the time in the world, right?’
He nodded, feeling every atom in his body responding to her with love.
She lowered her mouth to his in a soft, slow coming together. It only lasted a second and she pulled back to watch his response.
He didn’t care that he’d glazed over, that his lips were parted and he was stunned and silent. He let her warmth bloom right out of her body and into his, her fingertips at his cheekbones and in his hair, her eyes drifting over his face. He suddenly had no idea how to breathe. He didn’t mind suffocating one bit.
She kissed him again, slower this time, letting her eyes close, everything unhurried and exquisite.
He’d kissed her in the castle library but it hadn’t felt like this. This was how two people kissed when they were set on leaving ‘friends’ behind and searching for deeper feelings, closer connection.
He brought his hands to her face too and they held each other smilingly.
‘Is it sunny in Amarillo this time of year?’ he said, his voice barely there. She kissed him. ‘I’ll need some factor fifty, right?’ Another slow kiss, languorous. He moaned, but pulled a millimetre away. ‘Are there really snakes in Texas?’
She nodded and smiled and opened his mouth with the tip of her tongue. Another slow, aching kiss.
Still, after a moment, he pulled away. ‘Is your dad going to murder me?’
They both laughed, already near to forgetting what they were laughing about, then they were kissing again until the formation of actual words and coherent thoughts was a thing beyond their abilities, missing every second of the movie, stopping only when best friends Harry Burns and Sally Albright were finally happily in love, all of their reservations obliterated and their old pain forgotten.