The Final Seduction(26)

Jennie looked slightly sheepish. 'Er-about two.'

'And didn't Drew mind?'

'Well, he had a bit of a moan-but it was more on the lines of whether I  had told you that I was going to be so late. And of course I hadn't.  Sorry about that, Shelley.'

'Honestly-it doesn't matter.' She hesitated. 'How was your evening?'

'It was blissful-really blissful. And if Jamie weren't so worried about money all the time it would have been quite perfect.'

Shelley nodded but wondered just how realistic Jennie was being. It was  all very well thinking that an injection of cash would make everything  in her world wonderful, but life wasn't as simple as that. Wasn't that a  bit like someone thinking that losing weight would solve every problem  they had?

She broke into Jennie's distracted air with a question. 'How much does he actually need to buy the boat?'

Jennie shrugged and mentioned an amount which didn't seem particularly  vast-not to Shelley, anyway. But then she was used to Marco's world,  where enormous sums were made as profit on a single painting.

'And has he spoken to his bank manager?'

Jennie gave a cynical laugh. 'Oh, he's spoken to him, all right-but  banks only seem to lend money to people who are already earning huge  amounts of it-which makes you wonder why they want to borrow it in the  first place!'

'Well, that's one way of looking at it, I suppose.'



She set about giving the house a proper face-lift, and hired a steamer  to take off all the wallpaper in the hall then painted it bright blue.  The modern walls were in good enough condition to take such a vivid  colour and Shelley bought a huge mirror and hung it next to the door-so  that the smallish space looked twice the size. She found a deep blue  vase to stand on the floor and filled it with tall twigs which looked  dramatic against the intense colour.

Decorating was hard work, but it meant that she slept well at night,  after an indulgent evening of reading or television, with supper on a  tray. Early each morning she would walk along the pebbly beach-sometimes  taking Ellie with her. It had always been her favourite time of day,  when the sky and the sea were both at their purest.

But she resisted the urge to follow the small track down through the  sand-dunes to take another look at the coastguard's cottage, even though  she was tempted. She didn't want to be seen hanging around Drew's place  like a groupie!                       
       
           



       

And there was no doubt in her mind that she felt a little cheated. After  the definite truce which had sprung up when they'd looked after Ellie,  he had dropped out of sight almost completely, and she found she missed  him more than she wanted to. In fact, she saw him only once-standing  windswept in front of one of the large seafront villas which she  presumed he was working on. He was wearing jeans and a waterproof jacket  and stood talking animatedly to another man, his dark head bent over  some flapping sheets of paper which looked like plans.

She briefly toyed with the idea of asking Jennie just how good a friend  Amanda was to Drew, but decided against it. Because it was none of her  business. Was it?

And then one morning-out of the blue-he sent her an invitation to a fireworks party.

She recognised the writing on the envelope immediately-even though she  hadn't seen it for years. He had a distinctive black-inked and crabbed  style, and her heart was bashing out a very irregular rhythm as she  ripped the envelope open.

'Bring any spare wood for the bonfire,' he had written at the top of the card.

It gave her a bit of a jolt to see that he was sending out proper  invitations-but then maybe it really was time that she banished her  image of the old Drew for ever. He now wheeled and dealed and part-owned  hotels. He was a man comfortable in his own skin, and in his place  within the community. She was the one still cast adrift.

She read down to the bottom of the card, where it said, 'Don't bother to  reply since it's very casual. Just turn up if you feel like it.'

Which was extremely irritating because it meant that she didn't have to  make a decision until the last possible moment! Anyway, she definitely  wasn't going. Not unless Jennie was.

'No, I'm not going,' shrugged Jennie. 'I haven't been invited.'

'Oh. Don't you mind?'

'Not at all. I'm his sister, not his best buddy! Anyway, I wouldn't go  without Jamie and there's no chance of Drew inviting him. Not unless he  changes his ways, as my dear brother keeps saying,' said Jennie darkly.  'What Drew doesn't seem to realise is that Jamie's free spirit is the  man I fell in love with-not some boring suit who works from nine to  five!'

Shelley thought fleetingly that maybe there was something in between a  free spirit and a boring suit-who could accommodate family life a little  better than Jamie was currently doing! But she also thought that Drew  was an unforgiving man. Did he really think that alienating Jamie would  make him treat his sister better-or didn't he care?

She changed her mind at least fifty times about going, and then changed  it back again. Maybe she would just stroll along and have a look. She  looked in the mirror and scowled at her reflection.

She wasn't just having a bad-hair day-more like a bad-hair month! The  trouble with a short, severely cropped style was that it looked awful  when it started to grow out. As growing out it was-fast! She certainly  wasn't going to keep having it cut and tinted every six weeks. What had  seemed like the only thing to do in Milan now seemed like sheer madness  here in Milmouth. She would rather walk on a windswept beach than sit  with a plastic cape tied round her!

The highlights and lowlights were on their way out-leaving behind the  caramel gloss which was her natural colour. And leaving her roots!

No, she definitely wasn't going!

And even if she was-she had nothing to wear. Nothing which was suitable  for a beach party where everyone would be dressed down. She couldn't  wear her blue jeans again because Drew would be bound to look at them  and associate them with Ellie being sick all over her!

On the evening of November the fifth she was finger-drying her hair and  telling herself that she would just wander down as far as the cottage to  have a peep. And if it looked boring-unlikely-or, worse, if Drew had a  woman draped all over him-much more likely-well, then she would quietly  slip away and come home and drink a very large gin and tonic and put it  all down to experience.

She wore her black jeans and the black cashmere sweater, though neither  seemed quite as baggy as they had done when she'd first arrived.

Had she put on weight? She turned and looked critically at her  reflection. Maybe just a bit. Her bottom seemed more curved and her  breasts a little heavier. She squinted. And if she was being objective  rather than vain she had to admit that she didn't look too bad. She  looked over her shoulder at her denim-clad rear. Not bad at all.

It was a perfect night for fireworks-pitch-dark, cold and clear, the sky  thick with stars. Carrying a bottle of wine, a bag full of bits of old  wood and a packet of sparklers, Shelley wrapped up warmly in a sheepskin  jacket and let herself out into the starry night.                       
       
           



       

As she walked towards the beach she could hear the whizz and bang of  fireworks, and over on the Isle of Wight she could just make out the  ghostly red glow of a distant bonfire.

She passed the Smugglers, to see that the place was heaving. Although it  was a bitter night, they had flung open the doors and people were  already spilling out onto the green. They cradled drinks in their gloved  hands while they waited for the arrival of the pyrotechnician to put on  the traditional firework display.

Shelley made her way through the sand-dunes towards the cottage, and  could tell immediately from the chatter of party voices that everyone  was congregated outside in the garden-where large torches were flaming  at various vantage points.

She approached in silence, and when she saw all the shadowed figures  silhouetted against the spiky mountain of the bonfire she almost turned  back. But maybe Drew had been looking out for her, or maybe it was just  coincidence that she heard his voice carry across the garden as he  called her name.

'Shelley!'

She wished he hadn't. There were about twenty people milling around the place and they all looked round at once.

He came over and smiled down at her. 'Hi.'

'Hi.'

'Nice of you to come.'

'Nice of you to ask me.'

'My, aren't we being polite?' He raised his eyebrows. 'We are making progress!'

'Don't speak too soon!' she warned. 'Normal warfare could be resumed at  any time!' But her voice lacked any kind of conviction and he smiled  again.

'I gather that not only is Ellie eating everything in sight but she's actually started crawling?'

'Yes, she's better,' said Shelley. 'I took her out for a walk in her pushchair this morning.'