Don't Want To Miss A Thing (37 page)

Matt turned to Molly. ‘Is he?’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Well. That would make Laura very happy,’ said Matt.

Dex nodded. ‘It would. And she was the one who wanted me to be Delphi’s guardian.’ With a brief smile he dropped a kiss on Delphi’s tangled dark curls. ‘My big sister always did like to think she knew best.’

Molly left Dex and Matt sharing their memories of Laura. As she carried George on her hip across the village green, she said, ‘And don’t tell your mum about the dressing up, OK? It’s our secret.’

‘Here he is!’ Greeting them at the door, Tina took George from her and smothered him in kisses. ‘The prodigal son, home again. Did he behave himself?’

‘Good as gold,’ said Molly.

‘He always is. And how did the assessment go with the social worker?’

Tiny fibs weren’t too terrible, were they? ‘It went well. Fingers crossed, everything’s going to be fine.’

Tina looked pleased. ‘Ah, I hope so, I really do. Dex deserves it. We were only talking about him yesterday, me and the other mums at the school gate.’

‘Oh?’ Molly smiled, picturing the scene. Of course the other
mothers would discuss Dex; he was the most enthralling addition to Briarwood in years.

‘Yes! We were saying it’s just like one of those Hollywood romcoms, you know the kind. Handsome Jack-the-lad giving up the city high life and moving to the sticks to look after a baby.’ Her eyes dancing, Tina said, ‘And to begin with he doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing and all sorts of things go wrong, but after a while it gets better . . . and then he ends up getting together with the girl who helped him through it!’

‘Oh gosh.’
Crikey
. Molly felt herself growing pink at the thought of all those people at the school gate gossiping about her and Dex.

‘And there are setbacks along the way, of course there are, because you
always
have to have setbacks in movies like that. But everyone knows they’re perfect for each other and the whole village is rooting for them . . . and then in the end something
really
romantic happens and that’s when they realise it’s proper love and happy-ever-after time . . .’

Wow
. The memory of their recent kiss had come rushing back.

‘. . . for City-boy Dex,’ Tina was doing happy-ever-after jazz hands now, ‘and Dr Amanda the fantastic village GP!’

Molly saw Matt’s car leave just after eight o’clock that evening. Moments later her doorbell rang.

‘You didn’t come back,’ Dex protested, following her into the living room.

‘You didn’t need me to.’ She sat back down at her drawing board and uncapped her pen. ‘And I had work to catch up with. Anyway, panic over. I’m glad it went well. He seemed really nice.’

‘He is. We’ve been talking about Laura. And . . . all sorts of stuff.
He wants to stay in touch, be a kind of honorary uncle to Delphi. You know the sort of thing, turn up every couple of years or so with unsuitable presents.’ Dex paused. ‘Look, I’ve just put Delphi to bed. Do you want to come over for a bit? I thought we could open a bottle, celebrate the fact that Matt isn’t her father, she’s still ours.’

Ours
. It was only a figure of speech but it hit Molly like a knife in the heart. She shook her head and concentrated on the job in hand, capturing Boogie on a surfboard. ‘I really need to get this done. Can’t miss my deadline.’

‘Oh. Right.’

There was a bit of an awkward silence. Aware of his gaze fixed on her, Molly didn’t look up. ‘And you can tell Amanda about it now. No need to mention the illegal baby-swapping bit.’

‘True. Well, I’d better get back to Delphi.’ Dex moved to the door. ‘Thanks anyway. For helping out with the whole illegal baby-swapping bit.’

‘No problem.’ Molly carefully cross-hatched the underside of the surfboard. ‘Bye.’

When the door closed behind Dex a lump sprang into her throat, her skin prickled with shame and she had to force herself not to burst into huge sobby tears.

Oh God, this is so stupid
. . .

An hour later, a different car pulled up outside Gin Cottage and Amanda jumped out, her short hair gleaming and her perfect figure more perfect than ever in a strapless aquamarine dress and matching heels. Glancing up and spotting Molly lurking like a troll behind the bedroom curtain, she waved and flashed her a saucy, cat-got-the-cream smile.

Basically, because she
had
.

Molly flinched at this last uncharitable thought, which surely made her a despicable person. Since learning the other item of news this afternoon, she should really be feeling more sympathetic than this.

God, how she wished Tina hadn’t told her now.

But that was the trouble with gossip; once heard, you couldn’t un-know it.

When Vince’s name flashed up on her phone at nine thirty, Molly was tempted not to pick up. The relationship wasn’t going anywhere; he was a genuinely nice person but niceness wasn’t enough. It would be kinder to stop it now.

Which meant she probably should get the deed done and answer the phone.

‘Vince, hi. Look—’

‘Hello, darling, it’s me, Muriel! Listen, I’m here with Vince . . . remember we talked about how much we loved
Mamma Mia
and you said you’d tried to get tickets for the show here in Bristol but they’d all sold out? Well, they must have released a few more because Vince is on the website now and there are three available for the stalls on Thursday evening! But the page is on a timer and we have to book it now or we’ll lose it . . . so is Thursday OK for you?’

‘Um . . .’ Oh God, she’d
really
wanted to see
Mamma Mia
at the Hippodrome.

‘Thirty-seven seconds left,’ said Muriel. ‘Thirty-six . . . oh please say you can make it, Molly. It’ll be such fun . . . thirty-three seconds before it times out . . .’

‘Yes, I’ll come!’ Molly blurted out. Oh dear, now she was officially a bad person.

‘Really? Hooray, I’m so glad! We’ll have such a great night!’

Then again, having heard the unalloyed joy in Muriel’s voice, maybe it was allowed.

‘Hear that, Vince? We’re on,’ Muriel said excitedly. ‘Go on, do it. Book those tickets now!’

Chapter 46

Never had a fish been more out of water. Poor Vince, he was like a fish in the middle of the Gobi desert.

But it was a crowded, noisy desert. The audience at the soldout show at the Bristol Hippodrome was having the time of their lives; everyone was up on their feet, singing and dancing and clapping along with their hands in the air. Muriel, in the aisle seat, was loving every minute and Molly, next to her, could feel her joy. And then, to her right, there was Vince. Doing his level best to join in and failing utterly, his awkwardness palpable. Attempting to move in a dance-y way was evidently mortifying for him. He simply couldn’t relax, let go of his inhibitions and have fun.

To look at him, anyone would think he’d be a brilliant dancer.

But he wasn’t.

Some people just weren’t the type.

‘That was amazing,’ sighed Muriel, once they were back at her house on the Downs. ‘Did you love it?’

‘I did.’ Molly smiled at her across the kitchen table. ‘Thanks so much for inviting me along.’

‘Darling, thanks for coming.’ As Vince left the room in order
to reply to an urgent message on his phone, Muriel leaned forward and lowered her voice. ‘I don’t think it was quite Vince’s cup of tea, bless him.’

‘I noticed.’ Molly pulled a face.

‘But wasn’t it lovely of him to come with us, despite it not being his thing? That’s Vince all over, he’s such a caring, thoughtful person. Want some?’ Muriel held up the silver hip flask she’d just used to add a dash of brandy to her coffee.

‘No thanks. Driving home.’

‘Not staying over?’ Muriel tilted her head helpfully in the direction of Vince’s flat.

Yikes
. ‘I really have to get back,’ said Molly.

‘You couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, you know. He’s kind . . . generous . . .’ There was a touch of desperate saleswoman creeping into Muriel’s voice now. ‘He’d never let you down. Vince isn’t one of those who’d mess you around.’

Oh dear, this was awkward. And they both knew it. Molly hesitated and said, ‘I know he wouldn’t.’

‘He’s been paying into a private pension scheme since he was twenty-one.’

‘That’s . . . great.’

Cutting to the chase, Muriel said, ‘OK, call me a nosy old bat if you like, but do you think there could be a future for you two?’

Oh dear, here we go
.

Molly said gently, ‘I don’t think so. Sorry.’

‘Me too. Bugger.’ Muriel heaved a sigh and added another slosh of brandy to her cup. ‘Well, that’s a real shame. But it can’t be helped.’ Ruefully she went on, ‘I just want to see my grandchildren settled before I die. But that’s never going to happen, is it? It’s like trying to squash an octopus into a jar.’

They heard Vince coming back down the staircase, finishing up his business call. Molly drained her coffee and said, ‘I’d better be off.’

Hugging her goodbye, Muriel whispered, ‘Oh well. Thanks for trying, darling. We’ll get there in the end. I’ll find him a nice girl if it’s the last thing I do.’

‘There, all sorted. Oh, are you off?’ Vince looked disappointed as Molly reached for her bag and keys. ‘Well, it’s been a wonderful evening.’

She couldn’t bring herself to do it now; it would be too cruel. Molly took the decision to leave things as they were, just for tonight. She’d come over and tell him tomorrow.

‘I know.’ She waved goodbye to Muriel and left the kitchen with Vince; giving him a quick kiss, she said, ‘Thanks again. It’s been great.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Molly’s heart sank when she opened the door the next day and saw Vince. ‘Didn’t you get my text? I said I’d come over to you.’

‘I know you did.’ He was smiling down at her. ‘But I thought I’d surprise you instead. I’ve booked a table for dinner at the Manor House.’

‘But—’

‘And we’re also going to take a look at these!’ Having led the way into the kitchen, with a triumphant gesture he produced a handful of travel brochures from behind his back. ‘No arguments, this is my treat. You were saying you’d always wanted to visit Venice, so that’s where we’re going to go!’

Aaargh
. ‘Oh but—’

‘Unless there’s anywhere else you’d prefer. Florence . . . Paris . . . Timbuktoo?’

He’d said
Timbuktoo
in a comedy voice. Oh help, here we go. Molly held up her hand to stop him in his tracks. ‘Vince, wait. Hang on. Was this Muriel’s idea?’

‘No!’ He paused. ‘Well, she may have mentioned it, but I’d already thought about doing it myself. We deserve a break, don’t we? A few days away, so we can get to know each other better . . .’ He faltered at the expression on her face.

‘I’m sorry, Vince. I can’t go away with you.’ This was why she’d been putting it off; this was the bit Molly hated. ‘I can’t see you any more. You’re lovely, but it just doesn’t feel right.’

‘What?’ He looked stunned.

‘It’s not your fault. It’s me.’
Oh no, was she really coming out with that old line?
‘You deserve someone better than me. There’s a girl out there who’ll fall madly in love with you and truly appreciate everything you do for her.’

Silence. At last Vince said. ‘But it’s not going to be you?’

Molly slowly shook her head.

‘Oh.’ He gazed blankly at the brochures in his hand.

‘Sorry.’

‘But . . . my grandmother really likes you.’

Was he trying to break her heart? ‘I like her too. But you’ll find someone else.’

‘People always say that.’ Putting the glossy brochures on the kitchen table and straightening them so the edges were lined up, Vince said sadly, ‘But I never do.’

Vince left the cottage and started up his car. Well, that was that. So much for pinning his hopes on Molly to be the one.

And he was thirsty too. Annoyingly, as a rule he made sure to keep a bottle of mineral water in his car for emergencies. But yesterday Muriel had drunk it on their way home from
Mamma
Mia
and this morning he’d forgotten to replace it. And he could hardly go back to Molly and ask for a glass of water now.

It was seven o’clock; the village shop in Briarwood was closed, as was Frankie’s café. The only place open was the Saucy Swan. Driving around the green, Vince pulled into the pub car park.

It was a warm sunny evening and all the outside tables were occupied but inside the pub it was cool, dark and almost completely deserted.

‘Hello there!’ The friendly barmaid greeted him with a broad smile. ‘And what can I get you?’

‘Just water please.’

‘Still or sparkling?’

‘Still.’ He didn’t like water with bubbles in it.

‘And is Molly coming over?’

The sound of her name made Vince flinch. ‘No. No, she won’t be.’

‘Oh! Is everything . . . OK?’

Vince looked at the barmaid and remembered that she was actually the landlady of the pub. Louise, was that her name? He’d seen her at Delphi’s birthday party at the café.

‘Not really.’ He paid for the bottle of water and drank half of it down in one go.

‘Oh dear, sorry to hear that. Not your decision?’

Vince looked at her. It was Lois, that was it, not Louise. Big hair, big earrings, plenty of crimson lipstick and sooty-black mascara. Suddenly, completely out of the blue, a massive wave of emotion welled up and he shook his head.

‘Hey, it’s OK. Don’t worry.’ She rested her hand on his. ‘I’m not being nosy and I don’t gossip.’

He exhaled slowly, paying closer attention to the dark eyes and compassionate smile. It wasn’t like him to confide in a virtual
stranger but Molly’s rejection this evening had felt like the last straw.

‘It’s happened before.’ Pausing to drink more water, Vince realised his hand was trembling. ‘And I don’t know why. No one can ever give me a proper answer. They tell me I’m a good person and I haven’t done anything wrong, but they just don’t want to see me any more. I mean, am I
that
ugly?’

‘Are you kidding?’ Lois shook her head in disbelief. ‘You’re the opposite of ugly. Come on, look at you. You’d give Brad Pitt a complex.’