You And Me, Always(63)

She gave him her own sandwich and Trent turned it over, his brow  furrowed with suspicion. If he'd had a magnifying glass, he would have  used it. Finally he pointed, said, ‘This one's got it too,' and threw it  to the ground in disgust. That was when the giggles had begun to rise  up and Coral had had to turn away. If ever Trent was invited to be a  contestant on I'm a Celebrity  …  Get Me Out of Here!, he should probably  say no.

‘Antonia would never have laughed at me.' His tone was accusing. ‘She wouldn't have eaten a mouldy sandwich, either.'

This was another less-than-endearing habit that had begun to grate. He'd  taken to bringing his late wife more and more often into conversation.  Which was fine, of course it was, apart from the fact that he invariably  held Antonia up as the pinnacle of perfection to whom all others needed  to aspire. Antonia had never been given a parking fine. She'd loved  listening to his favourite jazz albums. She'd always polished her shoes  before leaving the house. She'd never forgotten to put the oven timer on  and burnt the casserole. And she'd never, ever folded over the corner  of a page to keep her place in a book  –  only complete heathens did that.

And now it was as if a ticker-tape was running through Coral's brain,  emblazoned with all the other things she found frustrating about Trent.  The baby voice he put on when he wanted her to make him a cup of tea.  The way he tried to imitate the accents of people on TV, all the way  through whichever programme they happened to be watching. His  predilection for using unfunny catchphrases over and over again and  thinking they were hilarious every time.

Not to mention his habit of calling her Pumpkin.

Since she was hungry, Coral valiantly controlled her mirth and ate the  sandwich. Trent said, ‘That is repulsive. You're making me feel sick  watching you.'

‘You don't have to watch me.' She swallowed the last mouthful. The  sandwich hadn't been that great anyway; instead of butter, Trent only  kept cheap margarine in his fridge. ‘Look, I don't think we're right for  each other, do you? Not really.'

His expression changed to one of alarm. ‘But Pumpkin-'

‘We had a holiday romance and it was fun,' said Coral. ‘And I'm grateful  to you for making me realise I could feel normal again, but I think  we've gone as far as we can go.'

‘Pumpkin-'

‘Please don't call me Pumpkin.' Coral shook her head. ‘I don't like it.'

Trent looked confused. ‘But Antonia always liked it when I called her that.'

Oh God. ‘I'm not Antonia, though. We're different people.'

‘You certainly are. She loved being called Pumpkin. And I loved it when  she called me Mr Snuggles. I asked you to call me that,' said Trent,  aggrieved, ‘but you haven't done it once.'

Eurgh, just the thought of saying it made her shudder. Coral said, ‘I'm not really a nickname-y sort of person.'

Trent looked at her, a picture of disappointment. ‘Antonia was.'

Let's face it, they were both disappointed. He'd thought he'd found  someone capable of getting him over the loss of his beloved wife. And it  had been like that for her too. Poor Nick, she hadn't forgotten him,  but she'd definitely been clinging to the hope that a relationship with  Trent would help her over her embarrassing crush on Declan.

Except that hadn't happened; the embarrassing crush hadn't gone away.  Anyway, that was all completely irrelevant. Coral gave herself a mental  shake. The lettings agent was still looking for long-term tenants for  Weaver's Cottage, and Declan was back in London. He hadn't been down to  Stanton Langley for weeks. Not only was he out of the picture, he'd  never been in the picture in the first place. All she had to deal with  at the moment was this failed relationship.

Still, no relationship was better than being stuck in one that wasn't  right. And she definitely wouldn't miss having to endure that awful jazz  music Trent loved to listen to. See? There was always a bright side.

‘So that's it, then,' he said. ‘Over.'

‘I think so,' said Coral. ‘Don't you?' She knew so, but it seemed only fair to be polite.

He grimaced. ‘Fine. I just hope eating that sandwich doesn't make you ill.'

Coral smiled. ‘If you're honest, you're probably hoping it will. So you can say you told me so.'                       
       
           



       

He gave her another of those long, unamused looks of his. ‘You're not perfect, you know. In case you think you are.'

Oh goodness, retaliation for having been laughed at. So much for being polite. Coral said, ‘I don't think I'm perfect.'

‘My Antonia used to go to a salon for a full professional manicure every  week. Her nails were always immaculate.' Trent's lip curled with  derision as he pointed to her hands. ‘Yours are a disgrace.'





Chapter 49



For Declan, the last seven days had been like dog years. Time had never passed so slowly; every hour had felt like a week.

It had begun as a normal phone conversation with Lily as he was making  his way on foot to an appointment on Pall Mall. They'd been discussing a  TV espionage series they were both currently enthralled by, chatting  about what he'd been up to in London and catching up with everything  that had been going on in Stanton Langley. Then Lily had added, ‘Oh, and  it's all over between Coral and Trent. Turns out he wasn't the one for  her after all.'

Just two casual sentences, but they'd had the power to stop Declan dead  in his tracks as he crossed Trafalgar Square, causing two tourists to  cannon into the back of him and a flock of startled pigeons to rise into  the air.

Somehow he had got through the rest of the telephone conversation  without Lily thinking he'd lost his mind. Hopefully he'd sounded more or  less normal. In the real world, for the next couple of days, he'd  managed to carry on working, attending meetings, making appointments and  arranging for all necessary tasks to be carried out.

But inside his head he felt like a teenage boy, fizzing with excitement  and anticipation and willing time to pass because there obviously needed  to be a break between Coral finishing with one man and finding herself  on the receiving end of a declaration of love from another.

Furthermore, the break needed to be long enough not to rush and possibly  overwhelm her, but not so long that she had time to meet someone else.  No way was he going to risk letting that happen again.

The original plan had been to leave it for a fortnight, but Declan had  soon discovered he couldn't wait that long. Yesterday he'd cancelled his  meetings for today and called Lily to let her know he was on his way  down.

‘Oh, brilliant.' Lily had been delighted. ‘We haven't seen you for weeks. I've missed you!'

‘I've missed you too.' All of you, he'd added in his head.

And now yesterday was today, and he was almost there. The last time had  gone horribly wrong; Declan knew he had to be prepared for it to happen  again. But he also knew he had to try. Give it his best shot. Find out  once and for all if Gail's instincts had been right.

And if it turned out she'd been wrong all along  …  well then at least he would know. He'd have his final answer.

‘Yay, you're here! Excellent timing!' Lily greeted him with enthusiasm.  ‘Give me five minutes to finish closing up, then we'll have a drink. I  sold that church pulpit this afternoon, by the way  …  Oh, and this  fantastic old lady turned up and bought the red velvet coffin  …  she said  she'd love to be buried in it because it looked so cosy!'

‘That's great. Is Coral in the house?' Like a master spy, Declan had  already noticed there was no sign of her out here in the yard or in the  office. ‘I'll go on over and say hello.'

‘Oh, she isn't here.' Lily's words caused his stomach to tighten and the  words not again to reverberate through his brain. ‘She said we'd run  out of balsamic vinegar and chocolate biscuits, so she's gone off to do a  supermarket shop.'

He breathed again. The big out-of-town supermarket was six or seven  miles away on the Cheltenham road. All of a sudden Declan couldn't bear  to wait a minute longer; he had to see Coral as soon as possible.

‘Damn, I meant to stop off there and grab some champagne  …  completely forgot. I'll go and pick some up now.'

‘Hello? No need.' Lily pulled her phone out of her pocket. ‘I can just  give Coral a call and she can get it for you while she's there!'

No, no no no. Declan's mind was made up, and he was going to do it if it killed him.

‘There's something else I need to buy.' He saw the confusion in Lily's  eyes. ‘It's something for you  …  a surprise. I won't be long  …  back soon  …   oh, and don't phone Coral to say I'm on my way. I'll surprise her too!'