A Jersey Kiss (Jersey Romance Series) (21 page)

“Fine, I’ll leave you to carry on with your jogging then.” He marched off towards his car “Bloody woman,” she heard him curse.

Bea watched him leave, wishing more than anything that she could afford not to care about his past. If only Simon didn’t want half of her house, if only she didn’t need to keep her job to be in with a chance to get that sodding mortgage. She walked towards her car, pulling her keys from her pocket as she balanced the coffee and papers in both hands. If only bloody Tom hadn’t told her about the investigation.

She dropped her bar of chocolate, hearing it break in its wrapper.

SEVENTEEN

February - Pruning the Deadwood

Bea didn’t have to look at the calendar to know it would have been Annabel’s birthday today. She stood outside her kitchen door holding the neck of her coat closed as she drank her coffee and stared out across the walled-in garden.
“I miss you,” she whispered; glad to be alone with her memories. Bea wished she could go back one year to the birthday treat she’d surprised Annabel with. “It isn’t every day you’re seventy,” Bea recalled telling her aunt when Annabel had expressed horror at how much her gift must have cost. “Anyway it’s from me and Simon. He’s done all the arranging and booked the tickets for the mystery walk with the Kew guide and for us to see Les Miserables. We have him to thank for this really.”

Was it only me who was shocked at Simon’s double life, she wondered. She shook her head and held tightly on to her mug. No, Aunt Annabel had always been fond of him, too. Bea tried not to think how devastated her aunt had been when she’d discovered him with Claire. She hated to think that her aunt’s heart attack could have been brought on by that devastating night when their three lives had changed forever. She breathed in the crisp, frosty air and swallowed the lump restricting her throat. She’d shared enough tears for Simon and her aunt would hate for her to spend today crying. No, she’d begin her day by visiting Aunt Annabel’s grave and take her some of her favourite orange roses.

“I know they’re shop bought,” Bea murmured her warm breath frosty, aware that there were one or two other people close to the immaculate grave, it’s wooden cross looking out of place among the other engraved stone creations, “so I’ve brought you the hyacinths. I didn’t kill them off this year. There’s one in blue and one in pink.” Bea smiled. “You never could decide which colour you preferred.” She breathed in the familiar scent which took her back to so many winters watching the ritual of her aunt first planting the bulbs and then watching them flower on the kitchen windowsill. It was a tradition she was determined to continue.

She picked up the vase and, noticing there wasn’t any water, sat back on her heels to get up and fetch some.
“Here, let me.”

Startled by Luke’s voice, she stood up quickly, nearly dropping the vase in her hand.
“What are you doing here?”

“
I hope you don’t mind me intruding, but I saw your car as I was driving past and realised it must be a special anniversary of some sort. Your mum, or your aunt maybe?”

Bea cleared her throat.
“It would have been Aunt Annabel’s seventy-first birthday today.”

“
I presume you planted the hyacinths especially for today, then?”

Bea nodded. She could feel herself welling up and turned away from him.
“I was just…”

“
Let me.” He took the empty vase from her hand and walked away.

Bea watched him and struggled to retain her composure. She didn’t want anyone to be too kind to her today. It would be too much to bear. She crouched back down and placed the hyacinths either side of the cross, pushing their enamel containers slightly into the ground so the wind couldn’t disturb them.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her back the vase three-quarters filled with water, their hands grazing lightly as she took it from him.

“
Thank you,” she said, taking the vase and placing the roses into the water. She rested a hand on the cross. “I can’t wait for this ground to settle and be able to order Annabel a proper gravestone. I gather you have to wait about a year, though.”

“
Yes, something like that.” He placed a hand lightly on Bea’s shoulder. “I hope you didn’t mind me coming here. I’ll leave you in peace now.”

Bea put her hand up until she could hold his fingers. The warmth of his touch on her shoulder was strangely comforting.
“I don’t mind you coming here. Thank you for looking out for me, it was kind.”

As his footsteps receded along the narrow path, she could almost hear her aunt’s approval. Aunt Annabel liked strong men. Her Antonio had been a well-built man, always needing a strong team of polo ponies to take his bulk. She’d definitely like the idea of Luke working with his hands. She never did understand people’s preference for working in offices. Bea’s breath caught in her throat as emotion got the better of her. She sat back on her heels and cried for a few minutes.
“I’m so lost right now,” she whispered, placing her hand on the cold wood of the cross. “Surely things would have to get better soon.”

Bea arrived at her father and stepmother’s home a short while later. As usual it hadn’t occurred to either of them that maybe this might be a day when Bea wouldn’t want to have to talk about her sister’s wedding plans. It was easier for her to go and get it over with than to row about it endlessly though, so she forced a smile on her face and went in.

“I’ve invited Tom,” Bea heard Mel say as she let herself into the house. “He doesn’t have a partner either, so I thought Bea, oh there you are.” She said looking confused at Bea’s unhappy expression. “I was saying you’re pairing up with Tom for the wedding.”

“
I’d really rather not though Mel.” She had no intention of staying a moment longer than was necessary.

“
Now, now, girls,” her dad said, standing up to give her a bear hug and looking equally as fed up at the discussion. “No fighting. Mel’s right though.”

“
I don’t have a problem with it, but why should it matter if I take a partner or not?”

“
Because then I can deduct your ‘plus ones’ from the invitees.” Mel took her crystal-covered biro and scrawled out the writing next to Bea’s name and then Tom’s on her spread sheet.

Bea scowled at her sister. What was she on about? She looked at her dad for a clue.

“Mel and Joyce have got a little enthusiastic with their invitations and Grant has finally put his foot down.”

“
Not Grant,” Mel groaned. “Dad’s the one being selfish.” She pulled a face at him. Bea could remember when that princess-look of hers used to work, but she must have been all of five years old at the time. She tried not to be irritated with her sister.

“
Thank you, Melanie,” Joyce snapped, coming through to the living room carrying a tray of biscuits. “I think your father is being perfectly reasonable about this.” She looked Bea up and down. “You’ve got here then? I thought we said ten-thirty, not eleven o’clock,” she said pointedly looking at her watch. “I do have a list of items to work through today, Beatrice. We can’t all be spending time wallowing.”

Bea ignored her and sat down, soothed by her father’s glare in Joyce’s direction as he left the room. She knew he’d have a go at her stepmother when she’d left, but a part of her wished he’d do it in front of her. Just for once.

“Melanie tells us she’s inviting that handsome chap, Luke, is it, and his model girlfriend. So you and Tom will have to team up. I won’t have any argument on the matter.” She hesitated for a moment. “Although I do think that refusing to allow any more than one hundred people in the marquee is probably a little too conservative, Eric. Your precious lawn will grow back if we do decide to hire a larger marquee,” she shouted over her shoulder in the general direction of his study, where Bea presumed her father must now be working.

“
I think a hundred guests are more than enough,” Bea said. “You can’t have that many friends, and neither side have large families, do they?”

“
Beatrice, I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself,” Joyce snapped, pursing her lips together and raising her chin in her usual aggressive manner when anyone dared to disagree with her. Bea remembered when she was little being terrified of this woman, until she saw Annabel stand up to her and give her hell. Bea smiled to herself. That was the night when Annabel told Joyce and her father that Bea would be moving in with her for good. It had been the happiest day of her life, until her wedding day.

“
Are you listening to me?”

Bea blinked and tried to recall what Joyce had been saying.
“Of course.”

“
You’ve had your big day and I won’t allow you to try and ruin your sister’s, whatever misguided loyalties you might have about that date.”

Bea shook her head and glared at Mel.
“It was hardly a tantrum. But I do think out of all the days Mel could have chosen for her wedding, Aunt Annabel’s first anniversary is a bit insensitive.”

“
You’re so selfish.” Joyce pursed her thin lips together. “You’ve always thought more about that old woman than you did anyone else.”

“
You wonder why?” Bea murmured under her breath.

Her father returned to the room.
“What’s all this shouting about?” He looked over at Joyce, who for once closed her mouth and didn’t answer. “I told you that I wanted this to be a calm chat and let’s keep it that way. I want Mel’s day to be a perfect at yours was, Bea,” he said, ignoring Joyce’s badly concealed moan. “I agree the date is a little unfortunate, but it’s booked now and maybe it’s not such a bad thing to have something happy for us all to focus on for the ninth of May.”

“
Maybe,” Bea said, unconvinced, especially because she was the only one who’d actually had any affection for Aunt Annabel. She suspected her father had a soft-spot for her aunt, but never showed it as Joyce seemed so sensitive about Annabel being Bea’s mother’s sister and a reminder that Joyce wasn’t the first woman he’d loved in his lifetime. But not wishing to give her father more grief than he suffered most days, she nodded. “Mel tells me she’s come up with a suggestion for you to keep Simon away from the house?” he added.

“
Yes, an injunction, but he’s retaliated by getting his lawyers to send me a letter threatening a court date on the tenth of May.”

“
Probate ends on the tenth of May,” her father said quietly. “He doesn’t waste any time, does he?”

“
No, but I suppose whatever happens it’ll be a relief to get it all finalised at last.”

“
Have you been to the bank yet?” Bea nodded. “No luck then?” Bea chewed her lower lip and shook her head. “Never mind, you’ll have to keep trying. You know I would help if I could.”

Joyce stood up.
“Don’t you dare say if it wasn’t for this wedding, Eric.”

“
I wasn’t going to, Joyce. This wedding might be expensive, but even this couldn’t pay for half the worth of that house.”

“
Yes, well some people don’t know when they’re well off, do they?” Joyce snapped, giving Bea a pointed glare. “You sister doesn’t have a house of her own yet.”

“
Mum, stop it,” Mel said, slamming down her biro. “Annabel was nothing to me. She was Bea’s mum’s sister, so why would she include me in her will? Honestly, you do irritate me sometimes.”

Bea didn’t know who must looked more stunned at her sister’s uncharacteristic outburst at her mother; her, her father or Joyce. When no one spoke, Mel took hold of one of Bea’s wrists.
“Look at your hands, Bea,” she said, turning over her hand and inspecting Bea’s ruined nails. “A farmer would have better manicured fingernails than you.”

“
I doubt that somehow,” Bea said. “But I promise I’ll get a manicure before your wedding.” She thought it was the least she could do. “Do you want to come with Shani, Paul and me to a Winter Fayre this afternoon after we’ve finished here?”

“
She’s not going anywhere until we finalise these arrangements,” Joyce snapped.

Mel thought for a moment then smiled
. “Oh God, go on then. Where is it?” she added, without looking up.

“
It’s such a gorgeous day and the Fayre is in Gorey Village near Shani’s parent’s house. Her mum is the Chairwoman of the Women’s Voluntary Guild, or something like that, as I’m sure you’ll remember. Shani phoned me last night and asked if I could muster up some helpers.”

Mel glanced up at her.
“What would we have to do? And why does she need us to help? I thought her mum is the most organised person in the entire cosmos.” She smiled at her mum. “Apart from you, of course.”

“
Apparently, there was a monthly lunch party that most of them attended at one of their homes and it seems like they’ve been poisoned.”

“
Poisoned?” Mel laughed in disbelief.

“
Well, you know food poisoning.”

“
Sounds strange to me,” Joyce said.

“
There’s nothing sinister about the request, her mum just needs helpers for two of the stalls. She’s managed to persuade her cousin Paige and her fiancé Jeremy to help, so I can’t really say no, now can I?”

Bea would really rather have not bothered to go either, but she liked Paige and knew that if she had been roped in then Shani would be in her mother’s bad books if she didn’t go. Even so, she thought, she wished her friend would stop feeling she had to take charge of her all the time, especially when she had
so much DIY to get on with, however she didn’t mention her thoughts to Mel and waited to see if she would agree to go.

“
It sounds like a good idea to me,” Bea’s dad said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “You two should get going. We’ve agreed that we won’t be hiring a larger marquee, we know your plus one and Tom’s are being removed from the list and by the time we’ve pruned the deadwood,” he raised his voice a little, “and Joyce realises our neighbours from twenty years ago do not need an invitation, then I think the numbers should tally pretty well. We can discuss this again later in the week.”