Lily had no memory, of course, of the day itself. But it was one of her favourite photographs because everyone in it looked so completely happy and relaxed.
She had been lucky. Tragedy might have touched her life, but she'd come through it. And Coral, in turn, had come through for her.
Which was why, twenty-four years on from that first birthday, she was still so glad to be here.
Chapter 4
Lily found Coral on the terrace, aiming her watering can at the hanging baskets outside the French windows. Turning at the sound of Lily's footsteps behind her, she managed to send a spray of water over her own bare feet.
‘Darling, happy birthday!' Putting down the watering can, she came over and held out her arms. They hugged each other, then Coral pulled back so she could see Lily's face. ‘How are you? All OK?'
Lily nodded. ‘I'm fine. You know, bit emotional, but it was nice, too.' She indicated the envelope in her hand. ‘You can read it. And this was the present.' Holding up her other arm, she showed Coral the bangle on her wrist. ‘I kind of remember it used to be in her dressing-table drawer.'
‘I remember it too. And I'd always wondered what happened to it.' Admiring the bangle, Coral nodded and said, ‘All this time it's been wrapped up, waiting for you.'
‘It was a present from her boyfriend when she was nineteen. Declan.'
‘That's right.' Coral smiled, taking the letter from her. ‘He was Jo's first love. She always called him the one that got away.'
Lily nodded. They'd talked about him before, of course, although Coral had never met Declan herself. After leaving school, her mum had taken a gap year, travelling to Spain and meeting Declan when they were both working at a restaurant on Las Ramblas in Barcelona. They'd spent eleven months together, enjoying each other's company, the social life and the high-octane buzzing energy of the capital city of Catalonia. Everything had been perfect until the time had come to return to the UK and take up their places at university, Declan at St Andrews, her mother in Exeter.
This was when the perennial problem had arisen: would they be able to keep a long-distance relationship going when they were separated by a distance of over four hundred miles?
The answer had turned out to be no; it would have been just too hard, the distance that bit too great. There had been endless agonising, tears had been shed and the hopelessness of the situation had been discussed over and over again. But finally they'd conceded defeat and agreed to go their separate ways. The love affair was over.
Eventually, of course, her mum had met someone else and ended up accidentally getting pregnant. When the new boyfriend had found out about the pregnancy, he'd wanted nothing more to do with her. Whereupon her mum, devastated but far too proud to beg, had granted his wish.
What a charmer.
Anyway, who needed a man like that in their life? You'd have to be mad or desperate. Lily did what she'd always done and mentally erased the thought of her biological father from her mind. Instead she watched as Coral finished reading the letter. When she came to the end, unshed tears glimmered in her eyes and she drew Lily to her for another hug.
‘Her letters sound just like her. It's as if I can hear her saying every word.'
Lily nodded. ‘I know.'
‘It's a beautiful letter,' said Coral. She checked her watch. ‘Forty minutes before we have to open up. We'd better go inside. There might be more cards and presents to open in the kitchen.'
It had turned out to be a busy morning; it might be her birthday, but there was still work to do. When Coral and Nick had inherited Goldstone House from Nick's parents, they had taken over the business too. Goldstone Salvage & Treasure was a destination reclamation company that attracted visitors from miles around. Amateurs and professionals alike came to Stanton Langley in search of items for their homes, gardens and businesses. Every day was different; you never knew who would be buying or selling, or what might pass through the yard. Flagstones, wooden beams and French antique radiators jostled for position with giant chandeliers, period fireplaces, garden sculptures and eclectic items from theatre companies and old film sets. Next to a selection of ornate bed frames and church pews was a Tornado jet fighter cone. Stone gargoyles sat between mullioned windows and a cast-iron kissing gate. Wooden wall panels and original red postboxes mingled with a giant swan-shaped bed and life-sized statues of Adam and the Ants.
It was now midday. Lily had just finished helping a man load an Italian marble sink into the back of his Volvo.
‘Well I'm impressed.' The man's wife shook her head in admiration. ‘I can't believe you just did that.'
‘I know, I'm stronger than I look. There, all done.' Lily dusted her hands on the sides of her shorts and waved the couple off as the phone in her pocket began to ring.
‘Lily! Happy birthday,' said Dan.
‘Hi! Thanks for the flowers. They're amazing.' The florist had delivered them an hour earlier, a typically over-the-top explosion of birds of paradise, stunning yellow roses, deep purple gerbera and fuchsia-pink peonies the size of dinner plates.
‘They've arrived, then? Good. I asked for thistles, nettles and a few old dandelions.'
‘That's exactly what they sent me.'
He laughed. ‘Listen, that's not why I called. I've messed up and I need you to help me out.'
‘Have you crashed your aeroplane? Because if you want me to take the blame and say I was driving at the time, they might be suspicious.'
‘If you're going to call it driving, the authorities might have an inkling you're not a qualified pilot,' said Dan.
‘Honestly, you people are so pernickety. Go on then,' said Lily, ‘tell me what you've done.'
‘OK, I bought Patsy tickets to see Beyoncé in concert for her birthday and they arrived yesterday. I checked everything was in order and thought I'd keep the envelope in my suitcase so Patsy wouldn't find them. But I searched the case this morning and the envelope isn't in there. So it has to be somewhere in my room. I must have thrown it and missed, and it's on the floor under the bed.'
‘Ah,' said Lily. Patsy was a fiend with a vacuum cleaner; she even cleaned bits of the house that didn't show.
‘And if I tell her there's something under the bed but she mustn't look at it, she'll just-'
‘Look at it.' Lily nodded; the ability to resist temptation had never been one of Patsy's strong points.
‘Exactly. And there are photos of Beyoncé all over the wallet holding the tickets. So look, can you get in and hide them? Or better still, take them out of the house?'
‘No problem, I'll sort it this afternoon.'
‘You're a star.' Dan paused. ‘How was the letter from your mum?'
Touched that he'd asked, Lily said, ‘It was so lovely.'
‘Good. Well I'd better get a move on. Sounds like the passengers are getting restless because we haven't taken off yet.'
‘Yeah, right. Bye.' She smiled, because he wouldn't really be calling her from the plane as it waited on the runway.
Except a minute after hanging up, she received a message with a photo attached, of Dan wearing his pilot's uniform and headset, grinning at her from his seat in the cockpit as he held up a piece of paper, across which was scrawled in red felt tip: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR TICKET COLLECTOR, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU! x
Chapter 5
Patsy was finding it hard to concentrate, what with the gigantic secret that was currently occupying her mind. Her heart did a double skip when Erica Braithwaite suddenly said, ‘So who was that fellow then, yesterday?'
OK, relax, she said yesterday. The secret hadn't been blown; Erica was talking about Derek. Exhaling with relief, Patsy saw that she was being beadily observed via the mirror in front of them. Around the salon she could feel the antennae of the other clients begin to twitch. That was the thing about having mirrors everywhere; there was no place to hide.
‘Which fellow?' It was pointless even prevaricating, but she did it anyway. Hopefully she just looked embarrassed, rather than as if she were harbouring a secret about someone else entirely.
God, though, it was stressful. How on earth did undercover policemen do it?
‘Come on, love, you know who I mean,' said Erica. ‘On the bicycle made for two.'
Oh well, maybe a bit of distraction was what she needed.
Across the salon, Will was pretending not to be listening as he carried on combing out Jess Carrington's freshly dyed hair.