Chapter Fifteen #2
‘So, that’s it.’ A flush tinged Evelyn’s gaunt cheeks.
‘I’m sorry for being so close-mouthed before, but nowhere near as sorry as I am for letting Ophelia down.
’ She squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘We do seem to be finding out an awful lot of each other’s secrets recently. It’s far healthier, isn’t it?’
Becky sneaked Tamara a wry smile, as if to say it might be healthy but that didn’t make it easy.
Despite it being common knowledge that she and Gage were half-siblings, Becky was still close-mouthed when it came to talking about their tentative relationship.
Neither seemed sure what to expect or hope for from the other.
‘Right, now let’s get down to the book,’ Evelyn said firmly and picked up her copy. ‘What did we all think of Bridget Jones’s Diary? Tamara, why don’t you start us off?’
This reminded her of being at school when teachers always picked on her when Tamara either didn’t know the answer or was reluctant to give one.
Being completely truthful meant exposing herself in a way that made her uneasy, even with her best friends.
Melissa’s encouraging smile helped and she took a deep breath.
‘I was only twelve when the book came out so Mum wouldn’t let me read it, but when the film was released five years later I went to see it with friends.
I left the cinema wanting to smack Bridget because I was seventeen and pregnant, married to a man who didn’t give a shit about me or our baby, and there she was, a self-absorbed thirty-something with a glamorous job, and two hot men literally fighting over her.
All I could think was what the hell did she have to whine about? ’
There was silence and a few uneasy glances flickered between her friends.
‘I would say you make a very valid point,’ Evelyn said staunchly.
‘As someone from a very different generation, Bridget and her friends often struck me as incredibly annoying but also terribly sad. There’s a comment Bridget makes along the lines of older people not reading self-help books, but simply getting on with life.
Does anyone else wonder if the more you fret and try to analyse whether or not you’re “happy”, whatever that is, the less content you are? ’
A trace of satisfaction settled inside Tamara as the arguments ping-ponged around the room.
‘But surely you can sympathise with Bridget’s body-image obsession?
’ Amy aimed the question straight at Tamara.
‘You’re always complaining about your latest failed diet, even though you’re incredibly fit, healthy and strong.
Didn’t you connect with the part when Bridget finally managed to lose weight, but her friend Tom declared she looked better before?
She felt she’d wasted all those years of counting calories and deprivation for nothing. ’
‘Well, yes. Maybe.’ And leaving the room backwards so no man would see Bridget’s wobbly bum? Been there, done that. There was no need for a mirror to know an ugly flush mottled her face.
‘Just as she is. That’s the toast they make to Bridget.
That’s the theme of the book and it comes out even more prominently in the film.
’ Amy’s colour heightened. ‘I was thirty before I had the courage to come out and stop hiding my sexuality. Penworthal was very old-fashioned and traditional when I was growing up, which is the main reason I went to uni in London and stayed away for years. I wasn’t sure how we’d be received when Tessa and I came back to live, but it’s been fine — most of the time anyway. ’
This was certainly turning into a night for revelations. Amy had never spoken with such deep honesty before.
‘So what are our thoughts on the book in comparison to the film?’ Evelyn nudged them back to the discussion.
‘The parallels with Pride and Prejudice are far more obvious in the book. The film cut out the part about Mark Darcy tracking down Bridget’s mother’s boyfriend and recovering the money he’d stolen from their friends.
That storyline was clearly taken from the book, when Mr Darcy pursues the despicable George Wickham, ensures he marries Lydia to save her reputation and settles Wickham’s debts. ’
‘I know I’m shallow,’ Melissa’s laughter was completely unashamed, ‘but is anyone else not surprised that Bridget was under Daniel Cleaver’s spell? There’s something about a bad boy that attracts women, despite themselves.’
‘Does anyone mind me joining in?’ There was no trace of a French accent in Ophelia’s quiet voice.
‘Of course not.’ Becky beamed. ‘You’ve experienced so much, dear, living abroad and that. Paul’s been my man since I were a girl, see, so all this is foreign to me.’
‘You’re too kind. All of you.’ Ophelia’s gaze darted around.
‘I only came here because I didn’t know where else to go, and there was a faint chance of putting things right with my sister before it was too late.
The last thing I expected, or quite honestly even wanted, a few weeks ago, was to be brought into your fold.
I was incredibly rude at first and I’m terribly sorry. ’
‘We’re sorry you’re having a hard time, my love, but we live by the Cornish motto — One and All — and you’re one of us now,’ Becky said kindly.
Ophelia’s thin throat worked as if holding back tears.
‘Thank you.’ She straightened and blinked rapidly.
‘Back to Melissa’s comment.’ Tamara heard echoes of Evelyn in her firmer tone of voice.
‘In my experience, those of us who’ve been tempted by so-called bad boys live to regret it.
They made the film version of Daniel Cleaver much less awful than the book character, but he was still untrustworthy and rotten at the core.
I spent far too many years involved with a French version of Daniel.
He was a handsome charmer called Lucien, who totally had me wrapped around his little finger, always dangling promises that he never kept.
I didn’t have the courage to break things off with him for good until I got sick. So I’ve ended up alone.’
Evelyn grasped her sister’s hand. ‘You’re not alone. You’ve got me.’
Tears pricked Tamara’s eyes. A vivid picture of her own sister floated into her head.
She couldn’t remember the last time Tracy had contacted her, as opposed to the other way around.
When she did reply to an email or text, the answers were brief and impersonal.
The ten-thousand-mile distance between them seemed to have erased their old closeness. She missed it. Badly.
‘Right, girls. Refreshment time.’ Evelyn clapped her hands.
‘I didn’t think anyone would appreciate Bridget’s notorious blue soup or lumpy marmalade pudding, or the Boxing Day turkey curry buffet.
Ophelia has baked the most amazing Cointreau-and-orange-marmalade biscuits, and I’ve made curried devilled eggs and ham-and-pickle roll-ups.
All washed down with a delicious vodka cocktail, courtesy of my sister’s deft hand.
Of course, we also have tea, coffee and soft drinks for anyone not indulging. ’
A general swarm started towards the kitchen and as soon as they all had their food and a cocktail, everyone regained their seats and settled down for the far more serious business of the night.
‘So we’re having a village Christmas tree.’ Tamara happily made the announcement. ‘Vernon had a word with the parish council and they don’t have a problem with it.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Mainly because it won’t cost them anything. The vicar thinks it’s a great idea too.’
‘Well done,’ Evelyn said. ‘I suggest we have a tree-lighting ceremony. Penworthal might be small, but that doesn’t have to stop us doing things properly.’
‘Other places have carol singing and craft stalls and food and drink to pull visitors in.’ Laura bubbled over with enthusiasm.
‘Let’s not run before we can walk, dear,’ Evelyn said firmly.
‘Another year maybe. I think if we sing a few carols and have some of your wonderful mince pies, Tamara, that will make a nice evening of it. Perhaps you could put our suggestions to Mr Bull and offer to take charge of the event, with all of us helping of course?’
What could she do but say yes?
When Ophelia brandished a silver cocktail shaker in front of her face, Tamara knocked back her drink and held out the empty glass for a refill.