Chapter Eight
‘Do you have to rush off?’ Alice enquired. She stood up and gathered her belongings together. ‘Or shall we go for that brandy?’
I stood up with her.
‘Why not?’ I said lightly. I then dithered as Joy’s recent words popped into my head – that of leaning on alcohol. ‘Although I’ll swap the brandy for a cappuccino,’ I added.
‘Perhaps I’ll copy you,’ said Alice. ‘Brandy might set my throat on fire, and it’s bad enough currently dealing with another fire raging within me.
’ Alice shot a furtive look at Liam. He appeared to be placating Cilla, although her arms were whirring like windmills.
‘Phwoar,’ crooned Alice. ‘Right now, there’s possibly smoke trails coming out of my knickers. ’
‘Too much information,’ I giggled, giving her a little prod to move.
We edged our way along the row of chairs, then out into the aisle and through the main doors beyond.
‘Tell me more about Liam,’ said Alice, as we squinted in the bright May sunshine.
‘I don’t know him,’ I protested, as we headed towards the pub.
‘You knew his name,’ she pointed out. ‘Which is more than I did.’
Stragglers from the meeting momentarily milled around us. Some headed off towards the pub, but many peeled away. Having concluded their protesting duty, more pressing things were required to be done. Nobody had magic fairies on hand to do chores like supermarket shopping or weekend housework.
Cilla suddenly sprinted ahead of everyone, having shaken off her unexpected speaker. We fell in behind.
‘Fancy some brunch to go with the coffee?’ Alice suggested.
‘Sounds good to me,’ I smiled, as we stepped inside the Starlight Arms.
‘You bags some seats’ – Alice nodded at an empty table by the window – ‘and I’ll grab the cappuccinos and a couple of menus.’
‘On it,’ I said, giving her a mock salute.
I headed over to the window spot, dumped my bag on the floor, then slipped off my jacket.
Slinging it over the back of the chair, I sat down, then gazed around the pub.
The dawdlers – mainly Hetty and some fellow Golden Oldies – were now entering the pub.
They were squawking like furious hens in a rigged egg-laying contest. Their chunter was all about the Diocese of Danderbury wanting prospective buyers to make sealed bids.
‘It’s outrageous,’ said one of the old dears who I knew to be Doreen Bird.
‘Greedy. That’s what they are. Out and out greedy.
What do you think will happen, Hetty?’ Like her surname, Doreen was a birdlike woman with nutbrown eyes and darting movements.
‘Get your crystal ball out, girl, and tell us what’s going to happen. ’
‘All I can tell you, Dor, is that there will be a happy ending.’
‘Isn’t that a bit vague?’ asked Doreen.
‘Let me get this free brandy in me,’ said Hetty. ‘Then I’ll talk to some spirits.’
‘Are we talking ghosts or liquor?’ Doreen chortled, not missing a beat.
I shook my head, quietly amused at their gossiping, just as Alice came over. She set down the coffees, then handed me one of the menus.
Pulling out a chair, she sank down opposite me, then leant in. A regrouping gesture.
‘So, come on,’ she said cosily. ‘Spill the beans.’
‘What about?’ I frowned.
‘This Liam guy. How come you know him?’ She leant in closer, elbows resting on the table, forearms supporting her ample bosom.
‘Let’s face it, Jen. There are billions of people on this planet, but only a small percentage are seriously good looking.
I’ll bet, when God made Adam and Eve, they were probably just so-so in the Looks Department.
And I suspect their kids were so-so too.
But every now and again, you get a super egg and a super sperm, and it produces a super-attractive human being. Liam Lancaster is such a specimen.’
‘I think being attractive is more than skin deep,’ I considered. ‘I mean, what about having a good brain for starters? The grey matter enables articulate speech, abstract reasoning, the building of social networks, and a cultural and moral sense that shapes a person’s values and beliefs.’
‘Are you still speaking English or talking bollocks?’ she snorted.
‘I’m just saying that looks aren’t everything. Also, I think a personality can be highly attractive. Much more so than looks.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ she said dismissively. ‘But when your gaze meets that of another across a crowded room’ – her eyes took on a dreamy look – ‘you don’t quietly think to yourself, wowzer, look at the brain on that! Or do you?’
‘Well, no-’
‘Exactly! What you really think is, bloody hell, there’s a guy over there that I’d like to shag senseless. Or am I the only one whose brain doesn’t think of articulate speech and abstract reasoning when I’m getting down to it?’ she guffawed.
‘All I’m saying is-’
‘Listen, Jen. Without blowing our own trumpets, we are two hot women. No, no’ – she waved aside the protest on my lips – ‘we might no longer be in our twenties, but we are flowers in full bloom. Beautiful flowers. Okay, so your hairdresser helps you with those honey-blonde highlights, but you’ve been blessed with gorgeous blue eyes, flawless skin, and enviable cheekbones. You’re aging well.’
‘Thanks,’ I muttered, unused to anyone flagging up my finer points.
‘And, without being too boastful’ – Alice flashed me a look that said otherwise – ‘I’ve been told that my hazel eyes have hidden depths, that my caramel tresses are worthy of a shampoo ad, and that I have a smashing pair of bazookas.’
‘Indeed,’ I acknowledged. I wasn’t about to add that her bust size would give Wonderbra a run for its money, or that her waistline indicated a love affair with Mr Kipling, but plenty of men liked a curvy lass, and Alice was definitely a poster girl for the fuller figure.
‘We’ve got it,’ she confided, tapping the side of her nose.
‘That indefinable ingredient, the je ne sais quoi that appeals to the opposite sex. And Liam Lancaster has it too. A man with good looks, good height and a good physique. The guy has the body of a professional footballer. There aren’t many men in that sort of shape,’ she said hungrily.
‘True,’ I agreed, as Polly made her way over to our table.
‘Are you ladies ready to order?’ she asked with a smile.
‘Oooh-er,’ said Alice, taking a swift look at the menu. ‘I’ll have the All-Day Breakfast, please.’
‘Make that two,’ I added, as Polly retrieved the menus and waddled off.
‘She looks ready to pop,’ said Alice.
‘I think she is,’ I agreed.
‘So where did you meet Liam?’ said Alice, returning to her chosen subject of Hot Guys I Want to Bed.
I pulled a face.
‘At my husband’s funeral.’
‘What?’ she shrieked, looking suitably staggered.
‘It was all rather embarrassing, to be honest.’ I fiddled with the handle on my cup.
‘I mistakenly thought Liam was a long-lost relative of Peter’s.
Yesterday I was mostly firing on nervous energy.
Consequently, I didn’t talk to the guy, rather I gabbled.
I marched him over to the buffet, insisted he ate something, then didn’t let him get a word in edgeways.
He eventually managed to thank me for my unexpected hospitality, and mentioned his name along the way.
I didn’t realise my mistake until Cilla rather publicly put me straight. ’
‘Bet that went down like solidified fat blocking a plughole.’
‘Something like that,’ I agreed.
‘So what did you manage to find out about him?’
‘Nothing much, other than that he’s a builder,’ I shrugged. ‘As I said, I was too busy spouting inane chatter.’ I took a sip of coffee and scalded my upper lip. Flipping heck, that was hot.
‘Do you think you’ll ever marry again?’ asked Alice.
The personal question momentarily caught me off guard.
‘Heavens,’ I said, rattling my cup down on its saucer. ‘I don’t know, although I doubt it. I mean, it’s not a question that’s even entered my head. After all, I’ve only just said goodbye to Peter.’
‘True,’ Alice nodded. ‘But you did say you weren’t together together.’
‘No, we weren’t,’ I sighed. ‘Between you and me, I was thinking about divorcing him. I’d even got as far as making initial enquiries with a firm of solicitors in Sevenoaks.’
‘But then Peter saved you the job by conveniently popping his clogs.’
‘Yes,’ I said, not quite able to look Alice in the eye.
‘It might be early days, Jen, but don’t hide yourself away. Metaphorically speaking, wear your widow’s weeds for a respectable period of mourning, but you’re too young to hole yourself up in that massive house of yours.’
‘We’ll see,’ I muttered, taking another cautious sip of the coffee.
‘What are you going to do with the house? Stay put or sell up?’
I stared at the cappuccino’s chocolatey froth for a moment and considered.
‘Sell it, I suppose. The twins will be heading back to university soon and the place is way too big just for me. I know Joy and James will come home for the holidays, but there will still be long gaps when they’re not around.
And then, when they’ve graduated, they’ll probably get jobs in London and possibly end up living in the capital.
That said, the world is their oyster. Joy has briefly mentioned a desire to travel around Australia before starting work.
A gap year, I guess. It wouldn’t surprise me if James joined her. ’
‘You could go with them,’ Alice suggested.
‘Ha!’ I gave a bark of laughter. ‘I don’t think they’d want Mum trailing after them, rucksack on her back, shrieking at the first sighting of a Huntsman spider.
’ I shuddered theatrically. ‘No thanks, I’ll stay put.
Anyway, I’m still dealing with all the paperwork following Peter’s death.
I also need to clear his personal belongings.
After that, I’ll have to make a start on getting rid of certain furniture in the house.
If I downsize, there’s a ton of stuff to get rid of. ’
‘Not planning on going back to work anytime soon?’
‘I worked for Peter,’ I shrugged.
‘You previously mentioned that he worked for a big law firm in London.’
‘He did,’ I nodded. ‘But I wasn’t on their payroll.
He had a personal assistant at the office.
Stacy was always bogged down with Peter’s work.
I was kind of like an overflow assistant – someone who helped take the pressure off Stacy’s daily load, especially when she wanted time off.
But my job was a private arrangement between husband and wife – not me and the law firm. ’
‘Oh, I see,’ Alice frowned. ‘So, effectively, you’re out of a job. That’s a bit crappy. What will you do to make ends meet?’
‘I’ve not been left on the breadline,’ I assured.
‘Thank goodness for that,’ she said, puffing out her cheeks. ‘I presume you mean you’re waiting for an insurance policy to come through.’
‘That sort of thing,’ I said vaguely.
I didn’t really want to go into my personal finances with Alice.
She was a mate, but nonetheless one that I was still getting to know.
Indeed, Peter’s life had been insured, but I was also awaiting something else.
A death in service benefit which, in Peter’s case, was a payment of four times his salary.
Let’s just say that the sum wasn’t to be sniffed at.
‘Well, if you need a hand with a clear out’ – Alice reached across the table and gave my forearm a squeeze – ‘just shout. I have broad shoulders and strong arms.’
‘That’s really good of you,’ I said warmly, returning her squeeze. ‘But what about your own work? I don’t want to take up your valuable time.’
‘I’m an artist, not a painter and decorator,’ she said. ‘I only have a handful of commissions in any one month and fortunately my boss is very flexible. That’s me,’ she added, when I regarded her blankly.
‘Oh, right,’ I said, giving my head a little shake. ‘That’s amazing. Well, I guess I can get in a house clearance company to get rid of any unwanted furniture, although I do envisage making several trips to the dump.’
‘Just shout when you’re ready,’ Alice assured. ‘Meanwhile, we both have our new hobby to get stuck into.’
‘What’s that?’ I frowned.
‘You know,’ she grinned. ‘Being fully paid-up members of the Starlight Society and supporting Cilla’s futile quest to raise funds to buy Starlight Hall.’
‘Don’t let on to her that you think her quest is futile,’ I said archly.
‘Of course not,’ she winked.
Polly appeared with our food.
‘Enjoy, ladies,’ she said, before turning on her heel.
The pub was filling up now and the air hummed with chatter.
‘However’ – Alice picked up her knife and fork – ‘by being part of the Starlight Society we get to keep on the right side of Cilla and her cronies and therefore get to keep tabs on the luscious Liam. I, for one, fully intend to wow him with my big-’
‘Careful,’ I interrupted.
‘–Brown eyes,’ she finished, giving me a wounded look.
‘What did you think I was going to say?’ She then giggled naughtily while wobbling her boobs.
‘Men love a well-endowed lady. So long as Cilla doesn’t set a trap for Liam to fall headfirst into his cement mixer, I’m going to keep my fingers crossed that he falls headfirst for me. ’
‘Talk of the devil,’ I murmured, as Liam walked in. ‘He’s certainly got some balls coming in here.’
‘Omigod,’ Alice whispered, one hand fluttering to her heaving bosoms. ‘I feel a swoon coming on.’