You And Me, Always(49)

‘Just a word of warning, though, before I go.' She paused in the  doorway. ‘There may be a few awkward moments ahead for you with Coral.'

The hairs rose on the back of Declan's neck. ‘What?'

‘Just giving you the heads-up.' Gail regarded him with amusement.

‘Why? I don't know what you mean.'

‘Have you seriously not noticed? She has a crush on you.'

A whoosh of adrenalin had him in its grip. At least his look of  disbelief was genuine. Stunned, he swallowed. ‘What makes you think  that?'

‘Simple.' Gail shrugged. ‘I asked her.'

What? What?

He raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Are you serious? When?'

‘Last weekend. You know what I'm like,' said Gail. ‘If I want to know the answer to something, I'll ask the question.'

Or scroll through a phone.                       
       
           



       

But the phone thing was irrelevant now. ‘Hang on, you're telling me you asked Coral if she had a crush on me and she said yes?'

More amusement. ‘Oh no. She said no.'

He stared at her. ‘I don't get it. So she doesn't, then.'

‘Declan, do keep up. I'm a woman, aren't I? She definitely does. I can  tell.' Declan continued to look stunned. ‘See what I mean about awkward?  But I thought you deserved to know so you can let her down gently.  Forewarned is forearmed, after all.'

‘Right,' Declan said slowly.

‘Anyway, I'm off now. Bye.'

‘Bye.' Still in something of a daze, he heard himself say, ‘Sorry.'

Evidently pleased with herself for having shared Coral's secret with him, Gail said smugly, ‘No need. Your loss.'





Chapter 38



Declan left his house on Saturday morning aiming to reach Stanton  Langley by midday. He knew that Coral had booked a cab at one to take  her to the airport. Obviously he had no intention of saying anything  about what Gail had told him, but just the thought of seeing Coral again  before she left for France was enough to make his heart race with  anticipation.

He'd barely slept last night, going over and over in his head the words  Gail had uttered. She'd been so completely sure of herself, too. And if  her deduction was correct  …  well, that made all the difference in the  world.

Roadworks on the motorway meant one lane was closed. Traffic was heavy;  it seemed as if half of London had decided to escape the city this  morning and were all doing it at the same time. This was fine, though:  Declan had anticipated the holiday exodus and factored the delay into  his time schedule.

Until a caravan got tangled with a lorry and ended up lying on its side  across both remaining lanes, causing a six-mile tailback and a fair  amount of colourful language amongst those caught up in it.

By the time Declan arrived in Stanton Langley and pulled up outside Goldstone House, it was 1.15.

‘Hello!' Lily greeted him with a hug. ‘How are you? You just missed  Coral, she left less than a minute ago  –  poor thing, she was starting to  panic because her taxi was late turning up. You must have passed her at  the end of the street!'

So the silver taxi he'd seen at the traffic lights had contained Coral.  For a moment Declan felt like a small child being told he'd just missed  Father Christmas.

Oh well, she'd be back in a week. It wouldn't kill him to wait, would it?

Aloud he said, ‘She'll have a great time over there.'

Lily beamed. ‘I know, it's going to do her the world of good. She used  to love painting so much. I bet she'll have a fantastic week.'

Deliberately dismissing thoughts of Coral having a fantastic week in the South of France, Declan said, ‘And how are you doing?'

‘Not too bad. Keeping myself busy. Look, you don't need to sleep at Weaver's Cottage-'

‘It's fine, I promise.' He shook his head; they'd already discussed this  on the phone. Gail had been right when she'd said other people might  find the idea of him staying at Goldstone House inappropriate. ‘I really  don't mind at all.'

Lily's eyes were sparkling. ‘Ah, but this is a whole new plan. Dan had a  text from Patsy this morning saying she isn't going to be back for  another week. So you can stay with Dan.'

‘Patsy's away for another week? Is she OK?'

‘I imagine so. I haven't rung her to ask, if that's what you're  wondering.' Lily's shrug was deliberately offhand. ‘We don't know where  she is. But she's apparently spoken to Jenna, who's staying on to cover  for her at the salon.' She paused, then changed the subject. ‘So anyway,  how about that for an idea? You and Dan at his place?'

It would certainly be more comfortable than sleeping on the floor at Weaver's Cottage. ‘How does Dan feel about it?'

‘Hey, he's the injured party who can't carry a cup of tea out of the  kitchen without tipping it over himself like Mr Bean.' Good humour  restored, Lily said, ‘It was Dan's idea.'

‘In that case, perfect,' said Declan.

‘Hooray.' She hugged him again. ‘Oh I'm so glad you're back!'



The piece in this Sunday's edition of the newspaper appeared online just  before midnight. It was far smaller than last week's double-page  spread. Dan swung his laptop round so they could view the screen, and  Lily and Declan leaned across the table to read the article.

Lily, who had been bracing herself all evening  –  all week, if she were  being honest  –  saw that it was essentially a non-story. Having scanned  Keir Bourne's words, she felt the tension seep out of her body, all the  pent-up anxiety magically recede.                       
       
           



       

‘Oh, thank God. I thought he was going to say all sorts of horrible  things.' She took a glug of Dan's wine, because her own glass was empty.  ‘But he hasn't badmouthed me at all.'

Now that he hadn't, she almost felt guilty for having thought he might.

‘Well, what would that have made him look like? Anyway,' Declan raised his own glass to her, ‘good news. Here's to you.'

‘Cheers.' Lily clinked and took another glug.

‘I'd say cheers too,' Dan said mournfully, ‘but someone stole my drink.'

Lily studied the photos accompanying the article more carefully. The  first, of the reunion     itself, looked every bit as uncomfortable as it  had felt: two strangers awkwardly encountering each other in the street.  The second, presumably taken afterwards, showed Keir Bourne looking  sad, and the accompanying text quoted him as saying, ‘It wasn't the  outcome I was hoping for, but I respect Lily's decision not to want any  further contact with me. There's nothing more to be done. I just wish  her and Eddie Tessler all the very best for the future.'

The third and final photograph was of Keir Bourne's ex-wife and teenage  daughter, neither of whom spoke to him any longer. The ex-wife, Tanya,  had told Shaz, ‘You want my honest opinion? Sure about that? OK, Keir  Bourne was a lousy husband and father who was capable of turning on the  charm when it suited him. He had several affairs that I knew of, and I'm  sure there were plenty more I never got to hear about. Our lives are  far happier now without him around to mess us about, and I don't blame  Lily one bit for not wanting anything to do with him. That kind of  hassle has to be the last thing she'd need.'

The daughter, Sasha, was equally blunt. She said, ‘Lily's well off out  of it. Trust me, she hasn't missed out on anything, not having our  father in her life. I'm fifteen years old and last Christmas he gave me a  teddy bear he'd bought in a petrol station on Christmas Eve. I know  this because he left the receipt in the plastic bag it was wrapped up  in.' Finally, asked if she was curious to meet her older half-sister,  the girl had replied, ‘To be truthful, I'm not bothered. I mean, Lily's  pretty and everything, but the two of us don't look anything alike.  Seeing photos of her doesn't make me long to meet her just because we  happen to have the same biological father. Especially when we both wish  we didn't. Still, she seems like a nice person, so good luck to her. And  if she happens to read this, here's a message from me: Hi, Lily, you  had a lucky escape!'

Lily finished reading. ‘That poor girl. She sounds great, though.'

Dan smiled. ‘She sounds exactly like you.'

Ha, she hadn't even realised it, but of course he was right. Studying  the photograph more closely, Lily saw the clean angles of Sasha's face,  the bright, defiant gleam in her blue eyes and the determined tilt of  her chin. She was small and pale, with poker-straight dark hair. There  might not be any physical similarity between them, but Sasha's comments  were undoubtedly the kind she herself would have made at that age.