You And Me, Always(40)

In actual fact, all she'd done was sign up for the company's newsletter,  but they'd promptly emailed her with enticing prices for next week's  holiday, so with a bit of luck there were still places available. Oh  well, looked like she'd better book herself in now, pronto.

‘Yay, that is brilliant!' Lily clapped her hands with delight. ‘I'm so pleased.'

‘Well now I'm intrigued,' said Gail. ‘What kind of a course is this?'

Coral's shoulders had relaxed; speaking to Gail was suddenly a million  times easier now the immediate danger had passed. ‘It's an art course  for people who want to draw and paint. I used to go when Nick was alive.  They have a couple of tutors there and it's always really friendly and  relaxed. You spend your days painting outside, then in the evenings  everyone eats and socialises together. I haven't been on one since Nick  died, but when Lily showed me the magazine, I decided that the time has  come.' And who knows, she thought, now that she'd been pushed into  going, she might enjoy it and be glad it had happened.

‘So you're an artist.' Eddie was sounding interested. ‘Hidden talents.'

‘Oh no, nothing like that.' Embarrassed, Coral shook her head. ‘I'm not very good.'

‘Yes she is,' Lily chimed in, ever loyal.

‘Do you sell your work?' said Gail.                       
       
           



       

‘God, no!'

Gail was looking baffled. ‘So why do you do it, then?'

Next to her, Declan said, ‘Because she enjoys painting, I imagine.'

‘She gives them to friends,' said Lily defensively. ‘They're brilliant.'  She turned to Eddie. ‘The garden scene up on the wall in Patsy's living  room  –  that's one of Coral's. She used to paint all the time.'

Eddie was suitably impressed. ‘You're really good.'

Coral smiled at him. ‘It's been almost three years since I last picked  up a paintbrush, so we'll have to see if I can still do it.'

‘Oh Lord, did I sound rude? Ignore me,' said Gail. ‘I've just never been  able to understand why people choose to spend hours and hours on a  hobby that doesn't bring them any financial or physical reward.' She  helped herself to more rice salad. ‘Still, each to their own. We're all  different, aren't we? If I'm no good at something, I don't do it. I'd  far rather play to my strengths.' She shrugged. ‘But that's just me.'

Eddie's phone began to ring and he glanced at the screen. ‘Damn, it's my  manager. He wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important. I'd better see  what he wants.' Pushing back his chair and moving away from the table,  he answered the call. He listened in silence for a couple of minutes,  then murmured a few words and hung up. ‘Lily?'

Lily twisted round on her seat to look at him. ‘Yes?'

Coral had already sensed from Eddie's expression that the news wasn't  good. Her stomach contracted with apprehension as she watched him rest  his hand on Lily's bare shoulder.

‘Your biological father's name is Keir Bourne, is that right?'

Lily stared. Finally she nodded. ‘That's right.'

‘Sorry. He's sold his story to one of the Sunday papers.'

Coral's hand covered her mouth.

Lily's eyes were huge, her face suddenly pale and tight. ‘You mean the  one about how he behaved like an absolute bastard, dumped my mum and  never once bothered to come and see me? Wow, that's a great story.' Her  voice dripped with derision. ‘He's the scum of the earth and he actually  wants everyone to know it.'

Eddie exhaled. ‘Apparently he wants to meet you, and he needed you to  hear his side of the story. He says it's time you knew the truth.'

‘We already know the truth,' said Lily.

Across the table, a glass slid out of Patsy's hand and landed on the edge of her plate with a crackkk.





Chapter 32



Twelve years ago



Stanton Langley had never looked more Christmassy, and Patsy had never felt less festive.

Why, why did stuff like this always seem to happen to her? Had she actually been a complete monster in a previous life?

Because it sometimes felt like it.

As ever, she hadn't seen it coming. Two weeks ago, she and Alex had been  a normal, happy couple, getting on as well together as any couple and  looking forward to their holiday in Tenerife.

Well, Alex was still looking forward to his holiday in Tenerife, because  he was on his way to the airport right now, at this very minute, with  bloody Alice Sawyer, who was his brand-new girlfriend.

Instead of with her, Patsy, whom he'd so unceremoniously dumped two days ago because  –  get this  –  she was just too good for him.

Yes, he'd actually had the brass neck to utter those words. Right before  admitting that he was now seeing Alice, who had a far smaller brain  than she did, but much bigger boobs.

So now here she was, in the middle of December, single once more. Not to  mention despairing, disillusioned and a tiny bit bitter. Because  everyone else had an other half, and there was nothing guaranteed to  make you feel more lonely at Christmas than being the only unattached  person you knew.

I'm twenty-three years old, I've been on a diet and lost a whole stone,  and I've bought myself the most gorgeous turquoise bikini.

Which no one is now going to get to see.

Not to mention the additional frustration that she'd taken a week's  precious annual leave from the salon and no longer had anything to do  during it.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Patsy first noticed the man. He  was sitting at a table in the window of the café, drinking coffee and  gazing out at the passers-by. He was in his mid-thirties at a guess,  wearing a charcoal-grey shirt and a smart mulberry-red sweater. His hair  was dark, he had nice eyes, and when he caught Patsy's eye, he smiled  slightly. Not in a creepy way, though. Just a normal friendly  acknowledgement that she'd seen him and he'd seen her. When you lived in  a village, it was perfectly usual to smile at strangers.                       
       
           



       

In the newsagent's, Patsy bought a packet of chewing gum and a copy of  Cosmopolitan. The shout-line on the cover was: New Year, New You!, which  seemed like an enticing idea. On her way back down the high street, she  saw that the man in the mulberry jumper was still sitting there. By  chance, Patsy's stomach was rumbling, and the café happened to sell her  favourite pains aux raisins.

As she pushed through the door  –  bugger the diet  –  the old-fashioned  bell above it went ting-a-ting-a-ting and the man was smiling again,  only this time to himself. Oh God, was she being too obvious? Was he  laughing at her? Flushing, Patsy marched up to the counter and said,  ‘Just a pain aux raisins please, to take away.'

When she'd paid, she turned to leave, embarrassed now and deliberately  avoiding looking at the occupant of the table over by the window. Until  he said, ‘Before you go, can I just tell you why I was smiling?'

‘Fire away.' Patsy shrugged as if she wasn't remotely interested.

‘I watched one of my favourite films on TV the other night. It's a Wonderful Life, with James Stewart. Do you know it?'

‘Yes.' Didn't everyone on the planet know that film?

‘When you opened the door just now, the bell made the exact sound it  does in the film. Remember? Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its  wings.'

‘Right.' Patsy relaxed. ‘Yes, it does sound a bit like that.'

‘Exactly like that. And then you came in here in your red coat and shiny  boots, looking all happy and Christmassy, and it was as if you were  …   no, never mind, I can't say it.' He shook his head, but his eyes were  twinkling.

‘Well you're wrong anyway,' said Patsy, ‘if you think I'm happy. Because I can promise you I'm not.'

He sat back on his chair. ‘You were smiling. You looked happy.'

‘Crying on the inside, though.'

‘What happened?'

‘The same thing that always happens. When you're me, anyway.' She said  it wryly. ‘It's the case of the vanishing boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend  now.'

‘Seriously? His loss. Can I ask you a question?'

‘Of course.' Patsy held her breath; what was it going to be?

‘That bus stop across the road. Is that the only one in the village, or is there another I've missed?'

OK, not the question she'd expected, but easy enough to answer. ‘No, just that one. Why?'

He shrugged. ‘I'm waiting for someone. Don't want to miss them. Can I ask you another question?'

‘About the timetable? It's not exactly Piccadilly Circus around here. We only have one bus an hour coming through.'

He inclined his head. ‘Actually, I was going to ask if you'd like to sit down and let me buy you a coffee.'