A Perfect Proposal (24 page)

Sophie started making a cappuccino without asking if Amanda wanted it. Her friend needed caffeine. ‘It was from Matilda. In Connecticut. She’s remembered the name.’

‘Oh, that’s exciting!’

‘Yes, although it still won’t be easy finding a random house. I’m going to put my ad in. Apparently the paper I need is called the
West Briton
. It’s the national Cornish paper.’

‘How did you find that out?’

‘A customer told me. I’ll do it online, if I can.’ She paused. ‘Oh, and Luke’s coming to London – some special project or other – to do with work, I think.’

‘Wow! Did you know he was going to do this?’

‘Not a clue. According to Matilda it was all a bit of a surprise.’

‘Maybe he’s doing it so he can see you again.’

Sophie found herself blushing. ‘I really don’t think so, but apparently he’s coming a month early, just after Christmas, so he can help me find the house.’

‘So she’s told him about her quest then?’

Sophie nodded. ‘I suppose so. Why else would he come over early? Although how he’ll take to searching Cornwall for a house that might not be there any more, I’m really not sure.’

‘Fun for him! Fun for you too!’

‘I’ll just place the advert. If anything turns up, he can go and check it out. He won’t need me.’

Amanda brushed this notion away with a flick of her hand. ‘Of course he will! He’ll need a native guide – he’s American – he doesn’t speak the language!’

Sophie laughed, thinking how much fun it could be, exploring Cornwall with Luke. She could show him a bit of England as he had shown her part of America. Then practicality set in: it was highly unlikely he’d need her. ‘Oh, here come the after-office crowd.’ She frowned. ‘It never used to be this busy when we came in here, did it? It must be because it’s nearly Christmas that they’re going for a drink after work every day.’

Sophie’s boss, who had heard the group of men arrive, said, ‘Oh yes, that must be it,’ and chuckled.

Sophie started making Amanda another coffee although she hadn’t ordered it. ‘Len is always laughing to himself these days.’

‘Can’t imagine why,’ said Amanda, who knew perfectly well what made the place busier these days, and it didn’t have much to do with Christmas. ‘So what are you doing for Christmas?’

‘Same old, I expect. I’m making Florentines for all the men this year, although I may do brownies for Uncle Eric as he really likes them. I’m decorating a huge cylindrical
cardboard container that I found in a skip for my mother as you just can’t get big enough waste-paper baskets. My sister is getting a little evening bag I got the pattern for in the States.’

‘Lovely,’ said Amanda.

‘And don’t worry. I’ll do you something to wear. Anything you particularly need?’ Sophie’s ability to turn a charity-shop bargain into something verging on designer was something her close friends depended on.

‘Something to go over a little black dress would be good,’ said Amanda. ‘For the office party?’

‘Ooh, I know just the thing,’ said Sophie. In her mind she went back to New York when she’d been adapting clothes to take to Matilda’s. ‘Do you like fringes?’

‘I expect so,’ said Amanda, ‘if you think I should.’ She got out her purse. ‘I won’t have that coffee, if you don’t mind. I’ll never sleep if I do.’

In between getting ready for Christmas, decorating the house, and longing for the access to greenery that Matilda’s household had, Sophie sent off her advertisement, spending quite a lot of money to do it. The trouble was, looking for a person or a name meant that the ad had to be quite long. She didn’t have much time to think about it though. She was working double shifts at the wine bar and spending every spare minute cooking and sewing for Christmas; she was also getting up early, because for some reason she couldn’t sleep past six o’clock.

Hence it was half past six when she booted up her laptop and saw Luke’s name in her in-box in the week before Christmas. He must have got her email address from Matilda. She clicked on it, half excited, half nervous. It was lovely to hear from him, but what was he going to say?

Hi Sophie,

Just to let you know, if my grandmother hasn’t already, that I’m coming to London. She’s told me she’s gotten you involved with finding some house in Cornwall. Personally I think it’s a ridiculous idea – far better for her to keep her memories than to find the house was razed to the ground thirty years ago. Would you please tell her the same thing? She won’t believe me.

I do hope we can meet up when I’m in London. And by the way, we’re still looking for your relative.

All best wishes, Luke Winchester

Dear Luke,
she replied.

How nice to hear from you. Yes, it would be fun to meet up sometime when you’re in London. And thank you so much for carrying on the search.

I have already mentioned to Matilda that finding a house that may not still be standing without much information is rather a long shot – rather like me trying to track down my relative – but as you probably know, your grandmother is a very determined woman! Please send her lots of love from me.

Best, Sophie

She didn’t say anything about her advertisement, which so far had not produced any results. Apart from this little sin of omission she was pleased with her mix of formal and firm. Sophie sent the email, disappointed that, given the time difference, it would be a while before Luke read it.

She was thrilled (although she tried not to be) to see a reply when she got home from work after the lunchtime shift.
Dear Sophie, Sorry, I should have realised you wouldn’t have encouraged my grandmother in her crazy idea. I should have known you would have been sensible about it. I will make sure she thinks no more about it.

Sophie found herself surprisingly disappointed. Supposing
she did get some replies to her rather rambling advertisement? She went on reading.
By the way, I have now traced your relative in New York. Sadly she has passed away. However, I did investigate her will and she left her entire estate to a cousin in England: a Mr Eric Kirkpatrick.

‘Uncle Eric!’ shouted Sophie. ‘You had what I needed all the time! But you probably didn’t know that,’ she added more quietly, hoping no one in the house had heard her talking to herself. Having resolved to telephone Uncle Eric and possibly search through his papers herself if necessary, she sat down to compose a reply to Luke. It was shaming, she decided, how much time she spent thinking about him. When she had finally pressed ‘send’ she got out her phone.

After what passed for pleasantries between Sophie and her great-uncle, Sophie came to the point. ‘Uncle-Eric-dear, I’ve just heard that Cousin Rowena, in New York, died! And she left her shares to you! It must have happened ages ago.’

There was a rustling and rumbling which somehow conveyed embarrassment. ‘Oh yes, well, I did find that out. I got Mrs Thing to get those boxes down from the attic. Found all sorts of stuff, including a solicitor’s letter.’ He paused. ‘Sorry I caused you to go off on a trip to America when it wasn’t necessary. Frightful bore for you.’

‘Oh no, it wasn’t a bore at all! I had a lovely time.’

‘Hm. Never had much time for Yanks myself.’

Sophie chuckled. ‘Well, some of them are charming.’

‘Have to take your word for it.’ He paused. ‘Thinking of coming up to see me any time soon?’

‘Well, maybe. It might be a good idea to investigate your papers, the ones you’ve just found.’

‘And it would be nice to see you.’

‘And you! I could bring your Christmas present – save me posting them.’

‘Them?’

‘A surprise! I’ll see how it goes.’

Annoyingly, a flu bug was whistling through the staff at the wine bar and Sophie was the only one not to get it. Thus visiting Uncle Eric before Christmas wasn’t possible. She posted off the brownies saying she’d come and see him as soon as possible and reminded him to make sure he’d had his flu jab.

One of the brightest spots in Sophie’s Christmas, which had lost some of its sparkle in recent years, was Amanda’s delight in the little fringed bolero Sophie had crafted for her out of a plain black shrug, some antique sequins and some of the fringing left over from the little black dress that Milly was now wearing with pride in New York.

Another plus was the pleasure that her mother took in her monster waste-paper basket, covered with scraps of material in her mother’s favourite colours. The men had enjoyed their Florentines, too. The best part, though, was the amount of money she had earned by working so many extra hours. She’d replaced the money she’d spent in New York – aided by having her fare refunded – and was well on the way towards her target amount for her course. Soon she’d be able to start looking for them on the internet. She would definitely look for something that dealt with the business side as well as the creative side of tailoring. While upholstery was still tempting, she decided that she could make curtains without the course, and that there was probably more money in clothes than sofa covers.

She received a very grand Christmas card from Matilda.

My dear, I am so excited to think you and Luke might be able to trace my house for me. Did I tell you that it belonged to friends of my grandparents, who died before I knew them? This is why it’s so hard to track them down. It’s not just a matter of a bit of
genealogy. But I’m very optimistic. I plan to tell Luke my plans over Christmas.

I do hope you have a pleasant time with family and friends. We so enjoyed having you with us at Thanksgiving. Do come back and visit us sometime!

The chance would be a fine thing, thought Sophie, feeling suddenly sentimental about New England at Thanksgiving. It had been so beautiful. Driving through it in Luke’s wonderful car, with Luke by her side, had been very special. She would think about it when she ended up married to a hippy, having babies in a yurt, and making tiny dungarees out of her husband’s worn-out jeans.

Another email from Matilda arrived after New Year. It was cheering: up until now the New Year had just held more shifts at the wine bar until everyone was better and could take their turn, but seeing Matilda’s name in bold in her in-box lifted Sophie’s spirits.

Luke asked me to email. He is arriving in London tomorrow. His new apartment isn’t ready but I know he would like to see you. I wrote your details down for him in case he doesn’t still have them. Here is his cellphone number.

Just before she was shutting down her computer at midnight, after a shift at the wine bar, she saw an email from Luke.

Ordering her heart to stop beating so fast, she opened it.
Sophie, I had no idea my grandmother thought the two of us were going to find her house for her. Did you tell her? No, I guess not. I’ll be in touch when I get settled in London. All best wishes, Luke.

She suddenly felt a little flat. She’d really hoped that Luke would want them to meet up quite soon. Now he seemed to
want to wait until everything was sorted out, which could take ages.

Her phone rang while she was at work the next day. She slid into the storeroom to answer it.

‘Is that Sophie?’

Luke sounded either cross or stressed or both. Sophie was so pleased to hear him she became flippant. ‘Who else would it be? It’s my phone you’ve rung.’

‘Sophie, I’m at Heathrow and I had my wallet and phone stolen on the plane. I’ve borrowed someone’s to make this call.’

He paused and Sophie instantly remembered how it had been for her arriving in New York to discover she had no job. She at least hadn’t been robbed.

‘What do you need me to do?’ she demanded, falling instantly into rescuer mode. ‘Shall I pick you up? Have you a hotel or something booked?’

‘No, the apartment isn’t ready yet—’

‘Then come and stay with us. Do you need to be in London?’

‘Not really, in fact I’ve got a little time—’

There was something in his voice Sophie couldn’t quite interpret. She would have thought it was amusement if the circumstances hadn’t been so dire for him. He was probably exhausted and it had affected his voice. ‘I can be with you in two hours. Have you got enough money for some coffee or something? And where shall we meet?’

They arranged a rendezvous, then: ‘Thank goodness I had your details, Sophie,’ he said as he disconnected.

Fortunately Sophie’s so-far perfect work record meant that Len was willing to let her go immediately. He wasn’t as short-staffed now Christmas was over. He even gave her a lift to the train station so she could get the train to Reading and from there a bus to Heathrow.

All through the journey Sophie tried to beat down her excitement at the thought of seeing Luke again. He’d only rung her because he needed help. Against her direct instructions, her heart swelled at the thought of it.

‘Hi! Luke! I feel I should have one of those cardboard signs. How are you?’ She had to stop herself rushing into his arms.

‘Sophie!’ He looked very tired but he smiled when he saw her and hugged her briefly. ‘It’s good to see you.’