Chapter 20
TWENTY
I arrived at King’s Cross at lunchtime. Full from Coco’s care package and my body zinging with adrenaline from being plunged back into London’s energy, I didn’t bother to stop for lunch but instead headed directly to the office. Even as I did so, a voice in my head urged caution; I knew from past experience that if I carried on at too fast a pace, then a crash would surely follow, which was precisely the cycle I had been attempting to extricate myself from. With this in mind, I slowed down my walk and deliberately started to take in everything that was around me. London at Christmastime is a jewel box of delights, and I took in the pretty shop displays and lights. The seasonal theme of the area of London I was walking through was ‘Gingerbread House’, and there were huge, cheerful figures suspended around the streets. Many were, as you might expect, ‘cookie cutter’ examples, but you could also spot the ones that represented public figures; I particularly liked the cluster of ‘royal’ gingerbread people, complete with the children and a dog. One bakery had fashioned an entire Nativity scene for their window, which reminded me of my determination to get back to Yorkshire in time tomorrow, and another shop had recreated its entire fa?ade as a gingerbread house, complete with icing snow and an enormous Liquorice Allsort in place of the door handle.
The building our office was based in had more modest decorations, but the tree in the foyer looked cheerful enough with its candy canes and twinkling lights. I greeted the security officer on duty and jogged up the stairs to the first floor, pushing open the familiar door.
‘Fallon!’
‘Sam! Talitha! Good to see you!’
We all hugged and then I threw my bag in a corner and grabbed a chair.
‘Okay, so has anything changed since your last email?’ I asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Sam, pulling a face. ‘Lindy is still refusing to go over the final details with me and told Talitha on the phone that she was considering cancelling the whole thing unless you saw to it personally.’
Lindy Dixon was a glamorous but extremely highly strung supermodel who had been a client for about a year. We had done three events for her in that time and this Christmas bash was fairly small in comparison to those. I had done most of the preliminary work and everything had gone smoothly. I had had no concerns about Sam taking over the final execution of the party, with Talitha’s support, and Lindy herself had been happy about that. Until yesterday. I sighed.
‘All right, well, she’s got me here now. I left a message to let her know I was on my way down, but I’ve not heard back. Is everything in place?’
‘Yes, nothing has changed. The venue stylists are all going to start turning up in’ – he checked his watch – ‘just under an hour. The band is on their way and the caterers are all fine. I chased up a few final guests a week ago to check they understood the dress code and pointed them in the direction of Marcella in case they needed any help. Yours is here by the way – do you want to try it on?’
I glanced at my watch.
‘Not now. I’m going to get hold of Lindy and then we should head over. Marcella knows my measurements well enough. Does it look good?’
‘It’s ravishing,’ replied Talitha. ‘Beautiful fabric, kind of sparkly and shimmery but tasteful. You’ll love it.’
‘Well, that’s something,’ I replied. ‘Thank you for sorting it out at such ridiculously short notice. There wasn’t anything in my wardrobe that would have worked for a ‘Frozen’ theme.’
‘No worries, Marcella’s amazing.’
That was true. Marcella was a designer we used to provide us with rented outfits we could wear to look the part at our clients’ parties, and we recommended her to guests who were struggling with a particular party theme, or who wanted something unique. She had a lock-up somewhere full of clothes that she altered to make sure that they both fitted perfectly and would be one-time-only outfits, only to be swiftly reimagined for the next customer. She had won awards for both design and sustainability and was a thoroughly nice and very calm person. In a business like mine, contacts – or I would even say friends – like Marcella were gold dust.
Sam gathered together everything we would need while Talitha organised a taxi and I left a message for Lindy, and in five minutes we were on our way. The venue, a nineteenth-century banqueting hall in Marylebone, would take about half an hour in the traffic, so we sat back and had a good catch up.
‘So, how are you getting on in deepest, darkest Yorkshire?’ asked Sam. ‘I hope you’re feeling better. I’m so sorry for dragging you down here like this, but I didn’t want to risk the whole thing going belly up.’
‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘You did the right thing. Lindy’s a pain, but she’s a good client, so it’s worth it not to lose her. And Yorkshire is beautiful, much nicer than I thought it would be. There are quite a lot of people in the house and I’m busier than I envisaged, but I am feeling refreshed and much less stressed – mostly because I could rely on you and Talitha to look after everything brilliantly.’
I explained how I was helping Alexander out with the Christmas Fayre and that I now also had Mum and Douglas’s engagement party to arrange.
‘And how’s Jacqueline?’ asked Sam. ‘I know you were worried about spending this much time together.’
‘It’s going all right,’ I said carefully. ‘She’s quite heavily diluted by Douglas and everyone else, but she still finds plenty of ways to be Mommie Dearest . But then again…’ I paused, remembering what Constance had said, that she thought Mum did love me, ‘…she is trying, in her own way, to help me get back on my feet. She’s into wellness now, and she’s insisting on herbal teas and experimental treatments, although I drew the line at having a colonic.’
Sam laughed.
‘That is so Jacqueline. Did she want to put a photo of it on the ’Gram?’
I pulled a face.
‘Probably. But the rest of the family saved me from that particular humiliation.’
‘They’re nice, then? What’s it like living with a kid?’
‘He’s brilliant. I’m really surprised how much I like spending time with him.’
I tried to keep my voice neutral, but Sam and I have known each other for years and I wasn’t going to get anything past him.
‘And?’
‘What do you mean, “and”?’
‘And, Miss Honeywood, I can tell there’s something else. Ooh, it’s a man, isn’t it? The handsome lord of the manor?’
‘Well, technically Douglas is Lord of the manor, and I wouldn’t dare muscle in on Mum’s fiancé, even if I wanted to.’
‘Too true. But doesn’t he have a son…?’
I capitulated.
‘Yes, he does, and yes, you’re right. There is – oh I don’t know, something there.’
‘Something?’
‘We’ve kissed, a couple of times.’
Sam grabbed me and hugged me.
‘Fallon! Too exciting! So, what else?’
‘Well, the little boy – Theo – is Alexander’s son, and you know how I felt – feel – about being a mother. I know it’s early days to be thinking about that stuff, but I don’t want things to get messy. I think it’s better that I just stop whatever this is with Alexander before it’s started. Not that it even really has started – he didn’t kiss me goodbye when he dropped me at the station.’
Sam made a sympathetic face. ‘You really like him, don’t you? I can tell.’
I nodded.
‘He’s wonderful. He’s kind and quite serious, but with a real sense of humour. He takes stuff in his stride. He’s been through a lot, but he’s not bitter or defensive, he’s just moved forwards. He loves Theo so much and he’s an amazing dad. I never thought I’d even notice something like that, let alone find it attractive, but I do. It showcases his character – loyal, empathetic, patient and capable.’
Sam giggled.
‘Sorry, Fallon, but only you would include ‘capable’ on a list of adorable character traits in your ideal man.’
I grinned.
‘Fair point, but it is appealing. He doesn’t want, or need, to be looked after, but then, of course, on the flip side of that?—’
‘Is his son,’ filled in Sam.
‘Exactly. Who obviously comes as part of the package. But the thing is, Sam, I adore that little boy, and I seem to somehow have clicked with him. He likes me too.’
‘Of course he does.’
‘But you know how I feel.’
Sam nodded. ‘People have children all the time and don’t bring them up like their parents did. Look at my dad. Do you think I’d ever do what he did?’
We had had this conversation before, and I was well aware of Sam’s aggressive, violent father. I shook my head.
‘Of course I don’t. But the thing with Mum is…it’s not like she was straightforwardly bad, or anything. Although I struggle with it, and wish things had been different, I not only appreciate but applaud her drive and passion for work. She didn’t mean to get pregnant with me, but she had me anyway, then made the best of it. I have a choice and it seems reckless to choose to take on a child when I do want to work and make a success of it.’
‘But with Jacqueline it wasn’t just the work, was it? It was the careless way she treated you, left you with all sorts of people and had a hard time showing you much love or affection – unless it was through criticism.’
I was reminded again of what Constance had said.
‘That’s true. I think I’m beginning to take on board that she did – does – love me, but eight-year-old me never saw that.’
‘And that’s the crucial part. That’s what you do understand and wouldn’t repeat. You can be a mum, Fallon, and work hard and care about that work. People do it all the time. You may be like Jacqueline in your drive, but you’re very different in most other ways. You’re soft where she’s tough, and I know what a caring person you are. Maybe your childhood has even brought that out more in you, maybe it’s your father’s side, who knows? But please don’t miss out, darling, from fear. If your gut is leading you towards Alexander and Theo, then let it do the talking.’
I nodded, still feeling unsure.
‘Maybe. Oh, Sam, it’s good to see you.’
‘You too. Now tell me all about Jacqueline and Douglas! Is the engagement public knowledge yet?’
‘Not yet, so you’re sworn to secrecy.’ I had no qualms about trusting Sam. ‘I think Mum’s going to do some soft-focus Instagram announcement, all very J Lo, this week sometime.’
‘Sounds fab. And do you think the marriage will last?’
‘I hope so. I’ve got a lot of time for Douglas. He “gets” Mum and can see what she needs and who she is besides Mayfair Mews’ biggest star, but he’s also quite firmly his own person. He doesn’t try to dominate her, or compete with her, or show her off, which must be pretty refreshing. God knows she’s been with some shockers in the past.’
‘She has. Remember Gavin?’
We both pretended to puke, causing the taxi driver to raise his eyebrows in the rearview mirror.
‘Gavin was the worst,’ I said. ‘I think he thought Mum was some sort of prize he’d won, which made him special in some way. He didn’t last long.’
‘Not beyond the second time he got stroppy because a restaurant didn’t have room when he tried to reserve a table in his own name, but came up with one when she took the phone from him. I know she can be a pain, but I do love your mum at times.’
‘Also, Douglas is the longest relationship she’s ever had, other than with her hairdresser…’
‘And you.’
‘And me, but she’s known Linda longer! She’s never lived with a man, let alone been married to one, but I have a feeling the two of them will be okay.’
‘Good. Are you going to organise the wedding?’
‘I hope not. The “small and intimate” engagement party is bad enough. But you can come as my plus one.’
‘Yes, please! Although maybe handsome, capable Alexander will fill that role.’
‘He’ll be there anyway, for his father, so you’re on the list! You would be anyway, Mum adores you. Anyway, you know I wouldn’t ditch you for any man, ever.’
‘I know. Do you want some help organising the engagement party?’
I groaned.
‘Yes! All the help! Seriously, though, if I need to, can I call you?’
‘Darling, I’ll do better than that. Why don’t I come up? It sounds as if you’ve got plenty on your hands with the Christmas Fayre and you know me and anything to do with weddings – I love them.’
‘And Mum loves you! I bet she’d be thrilled if you were there. Are you sure you can spare the time?’
‘Of course. After tonight there’s only that bank Christmas party tomorrow and the birthday on Wednesday and they’re both going very well. I’d love to come and help, Fallon; I hated seeing you knocked sideways by work. There must be a local pub I can stay in.’
I was prevented from answering by the taxi drawing to a sudden stop.
‘Here we are,’ said the driver and we jumped out, made sure we had everything and headed inside.
The hall was empty but looked spectacular, nonetheless. It was made from white marble, with carved columns sweeping up to the moulded ceiling; huge arched windows dressed with enormous curtains, tied back now to let in the winter light; and an unusual mezzanine level or gallery running around three sides, behind the columns. We were greeted warmly by Judy, who managed the space and several others like it in London.
‘Let me show you backstage,’ she said, leading us to a door at the back of the hall. ‘There’s a kitchen, loo and small sitting room where you can leave your things and set up your laptop. It’s yours for the whole evening.’
As we settled in, my phone rang: Lindy. I answered it with some trepidation in my heart, but sounding as breezy as I could.
‘Lindy, hi!’
‘Oh! Fallon! You are in London, aren’t you? Do say you are.’
‘Of course I am, don’t worry. Now, are you all ready for tonight?’
‘Are you there ? Are you overseeing it all? It’s not that I don’t trust Sam, you know that, he’s so wonderful, but I am so much happier to know it’s you. It was giving me a great deal of anxiety, knowing you were so far away at such an important time.’
‘I’m here at the venue right now,’ I said soothingly, ‘and everything is going to plan. In fact’ – I looked up at Sam who was mouthing at me and pointing – ‘the venue stylists have just arrived, so I must go and make sure they get everything exactly right. Do you want me to check in with you again later?’
‘ Would you? I’d be so grateful. And you will check that they bring the blue carpet for my guests? I couldn’t bear it if it was any other colour.’
‘Of course I will. Now go and relax, then get ready and don’t worry about a thing. It will all be perfect.’
‘I know, I know. Goodbye then.’
I hung up with some relief and ran out to greet the stylists, with no time for lingering thoughts about what a difference there is to people where what is crucially important in life is concerned.
In the end, the party was indeed perfect. There were the usual behind the scenes hiccups, but nothing that Sam and I couldn’t handle and nothing that Lindy ever knew about. I moved around the venue almost constantly, checking that things were going smoothly. Most people present would not have known that I wasn’t a guest, dressed in the glorious shimmering blue and silver gown that Marcella had produced at the last minute and smiling at everyone with confidence. But if they had looked closer, they would have seen that I had a discreet earpiece to keep in touch with Sam, and that the glass of champagne I carried was never sipped, let alone in need of a refill. It was past three a.m. when I was finally able to hug Sam goodbye, change my silver stilettos for some comfortable flats and sink gratefully into a taxi home. For the first time since I had stepped off the train, I had the chance to check my personal messages, and saw one from Alexander:
I hope things are going well for you in London. The Nativity rehearsal went well, even Heathcliff behaved. We all miss you here.
I bit my lip. The evening had been busy, but that hadn’t stopped creeping thoughts of Yorkshire and Alexander and Theo. I had pushed them away easily at the time, but now that the adrenaline was ebbing away, I wished I was with them at Blakeney Hall, sitting by the fire. The phone pinged again, a long and effusive message from Lindy, thrilled with her party and full of promises to recommend me to all her friends, as long as she always came first, of course. Difficult though she could be, I was happy to hear from her and to feel the satisfaction of a job done well. The tug between two such different worlds was making my head spin, and I was glad when we pulled up outside my block of mansion flats, removing the option for me to reply to either message right away. I walked up the front steps, into the carpeted hallway and across to my own front door, letting myself in to the familiar, if slightly musty-smelling space. I headed straight for the bathroom then bed – maybe I would feel less confused in the morning.