It Had to Be You (18 page)

They drove past another row of pretty little cottages. ‘It can’t be that far now,’ Poppet said.

‘Keep going.’ Nic had the AA printout on her lap. ‘It’s half a mile more on the left.’

Poppet wriggled round in her seat. ‘I’ve got butterflies I’m so excited! I’m going to have a lovely long soak in the bath and then sit in the garden with a nice drink and watch the sunset.’

Lizzy had been thinking the same. Sweetbriar House conjured up visions of flagstone floors and calming neutral decor. And Nic had said something about there being a hot tub.

‘I wonder who else is staying there?’ Poppet steered the car round a bend. ‘Maybe we can have a big murder mystery-style dinner party tomorrow.’

‘I haven’t come all the way down here to speak to a load of randoms,’ Nic grumbled. ‘I get enough of that with my job. Left here.’

Two minutes later they pulled up outside a handsome stone lodge with white shutters on every window. The gardens were sprawling and beautiful. Lizzy instantly relaxed. It was just what they needed.

The car park adjacent to the lodge was full, so they left the car by the side of the road. Poppet had brought so much stuff with her that the other two had to help carry it in.

‘What have you
got
in here?’ Lizzy asked, as she precariously wheeled one of Poppet’s giant suitcases up the path. ‘It’s more than I’d take for a two-week holiday.’

‘Oh you know, just stuff!’

The entrance hall was deserted when they walked in. It had a very boutique feel: there was a large sitting room on the left with big sofas and a beautiful Victorian fireplace. Lizzy imagined herself chilling out in there later with a gin and tonic. Or maybe they’d push the boat out and get some champagne.

‘Where is everyone?’ Nic said. ‘If they worked for us, I can tell you now they’d get sacked.’

‘Can I help you?’

The girls turned round. A woman was standing behind them wiping her hand on a tea towel. She was wearing a flour-stained Cath Kidston apron.

‘Er yes!’ Lizzy said. ‘We’re booked in for two nights? Name of Cartwright?’

The woman frowned ominously. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Perfectly sure.’ Nic gave her the booking confirmation email she’d printed out. The woman studied it.

‘I hate to tell you this, but you’ve booked for this date next year.’

‘What?’ Nic snatched the paper back.

The woman smiled apologetically at Lizzy and Poppet. ‘I remember the name now. You’re our only booking for that far ahead.’

Nic was utterly horrified. ‘I can’t believe what a massive dick I am. I should have “Mega Twat” tattooed on my forehead. How could I have booked the wrong year?’

Poppet gave the owner an apologetic look. ‘It’s not your fault, you’ve been under a lot of strain at work,’ she told Nic.

‘I should have
known
it was too good to be true when I booked it at such short notice.’ Nic pulled her gold Barclaycard out of her wallet. ‘Can we just book in now? I’ll pay extra for any inconvenience.’

‘I’m afraid all our rooms are occupied.’

The girls exchanged a look. ‘Are you sure you can’t find us somewhere?’ Poppet begged the woman. ‘I won’t take up much space, I’m really small.’

The woman looked dubiously at Poppet’s luggage. ‘I’m really sorry, we’ve been booked out for months.’

Lizzy couldn’t quite believe it. She’d heard those horror stories of people getting the wrong date, or turning up to places that had double-booked, but it had never happened to her. It had to be the worst feeling in the whole world.

‘Can you recommend anywhere else we could stay?’ she asked.

‘It’s the Great Dorset Steam Fair this weekend, you’ll have a hell of a job to find somewhere.’ The woman looked at the gutted faces in front of her. ‘I’ll go and ask my husband, he might know a place.’

The owner’s prediction had turned out to be ominously true. Every hotel and gastro pub for miles was booked up. They had eventually managed to get in a Travelodge on the side of a busy roundabout, and had ended up having a room-picnic of Ginsters pasties and going to bed at 9 p.m.

The following day Nic was still apologizing and wouldn’t let Lizzy or Poppet pay for the room. ‘I’ve ruined everything,’ she said as they sat in the car park, pondering their next plan of action. ‘I’m going to punish myself so bad at the gym next week.’

‘Will you stop beating yourself up?’ Lizzy told her. ‘It’s one of those things.’ Although she did have to admit, waking up to the sounds of the A348 wasn’t quite the same as being lulled awake by chattering birdsong.

‘What now?’ Poppet was sitting gloomily behind the wheel. ‘Do we just go back to London?’

‘It seems a shame, now we’re all the way down here,’ Lizzy said. ‘There has to be a vacancy somewhere that doesn’t have a sanitary hand wipe in the room.’

Nic had her phone out. ‘And I’m going to bloody well find it.’

Using her contacts, a bit of bribery and sheer determination, she eventually managed to book them into a B & B that had had a last-minute cancellation. It was on the other side of the county, but it was a place to stay.

‘Hurrah for Queen Nicola!’ Poppet cried. ‘Now we’ve got the whole day to explore! What does everyone want to do?’

A very pleasant morning was spent driving past fields of cows and pointing at stately homes in the distance. At lunchtime they stopped at a little teashop for doorstep cheese sandwiches and delicious homemade carrot cake.

Poppet looked out of the window. ‘I suppose we should go for a walk. Or does driving round count as a walk? I do feel like we’ve seen a lot.’

Nic was outside, stomping round the car park as she tried to find reception. The other two watched her wave her phone in the air; apparently Simon had sent an email that needed replying to immediately. ‘I wish she’d switch off from work for once,’ Poppet said. ‘He can give her one weekend off, can’t he?’

Lizzy watched Nic karate kick a dog-waste bin. ‘You know what she’s like, she thrives on stress.’

They paid the bill and plunged back into the lanes. ‘Isn’t it amazing how people live in such remote places?’ Poppet said. ‘Where do they go to get takeaway coffees? Or a manicure? And what if someone needs an emergency bikini wax?’

Nic sat up in the front passenger seat. ‘What the hell is that?’

A horrible scraping noise was coming from under the car. ‘Oh my God!’ Poppet squealed. ‘I’ve hit something!’

The car shuddered to a halt. ‘I can’t look!’ Poppet had her hands over her face. ‘What if it’s a baby deer and its mummy is standing up the road and saw the whole thing?’

Nic turned round. ‘You go,’ she told Lizzy. ‘I hate blood.’

‘So do I!’

‘I hate it more. I got us the rooms for tonight, remember.’

‘Please, Lizzy!’ Poppet pleaded. ‘What if it’s still alive under there?’

Oh God.
Lizzy reluctantly got out, bracing herself for a little hoof sticking up from under the car.

‘What is it?’ Poppet cried. ‘Just give it to me straight!’

Lizzy stood up again. ‘I think your exhaust pipe has fallen off.’

The other two got out and had a look. ‘Crumbs!’ Poppet said. ‘It
is
the exhaust pipe. What do we do now?’

‘Ring for a Dominos?’ Nic suggested. ‘Failing that you could always try the AA.’

‘Oh, my parents bought me AA membership for Christmas! I was furious because I’d been dropping hints about that nice black handbag from Reiss with the gold buckle on the front.’ Poppet gazed across the rolling rural landscape. ‘I suppose a Reiss handbag wouldn’t save us now.’

She disappeared off down the lane waving her phone in the air. Nic plopped down on the grassy verge. ‘I knew we should have gone on a city break.’

Lizzy walked across to the other side of the road. Beyond the fence were green fields as far as she could see. Someone would come along sooner or later, wouldn’t they?

When she turned round Nic was flat on her back on the verge with her eyes closed. The car had its hazard lights on. A piece of broken-off exhaust pipe lay further up the lane.

It
was
a pretty funny scene.
Ooh look! One bar of reception!

‘What are you smiling about?’ Nic asked a few moments later.

‘I just tweeted about us being broken down in the wilds of Dorset.’

Nic stared at her. ‘You get the only bit of reception for miles and you send a tweet rather than call someone for help?’

Lizzy clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘I didn’t think of it like that. It was just the perfect tweet material!’

Twenty minutes later the country lane was still empty. ‘Great,’ Nic said gloomily. ‘We might not be found for days, by which time the crows will have picked our carcasses dry and they’ll have to identify us by our dental records.’

‘Ssh!’ Poppet said. ‘I think I can hear something!’

They all strained their ears. Sure enough it was the sound of an engine in the far distance. And unless Lizzy was mistaken, it was coming their way.

‘We’re saved!’ Poppet shouted. ‘Ooh, what if it’s a load of fit farmers like the ones off the Yeo Valley ad?’

The next moment a battered old Jeep zoomed round the corner. A man was behind the wheel. He pulled up behind their car.

‘Is he going to get out or just stare at us?’ Nic asked.

‘He looks familiar.’ Poppet gave a gasp as the driver’s door opened. ‘Is that who I think it is?’

Lizzy watched in disbelief as a pair of battered old wellies appeared, followed by a distinctive crop of dark-red hair.

‘Hi,’ Elliot Anderson said, looking like he’d just run into his worst enemy.

‘Do you think we should say how sorry we are about him and Amber?’ Poppet whispered.

The three girls were standing on the side of the road while Elliot Anderson from the ITN
News at Ten
crawled round under Poppet’s Sahara-yellow Peugeot.

‘Does he look like a man who wants to receive commiserations?’ Nic said. ‘Just stand there looking helpless and pretty, he’s our ticket out of here.’

Elliot stood up and brushed his hands off.

‘What’s the prognosis, Doctor?’ Nic asked.

He didn’t smile. ‘It’s not going anywhere. Do you want a lift to the garage?’

It looked like it was the last thing he wanted to do in the world.

‘Only if you don’t mind,’ Poppet said.

‘I’m hardly going to leave you out here, am I?’ he muttered, before stomping back to his car.

Elliot didn’t take his coat off the front passenger seat, and no one wanted to sit with him anyway, so the girls crammed in the back with their bags on their laps. Lizzy found herself wedged so close behind Elliot she could count the freckles on his neck, and see what looked like a bit of dried grass in the crown of his hair. Was this really happening?

Poppet was making a valiant effort to make conversation. ‘I don’t know what we’d have done if you hadn’t come along. Are you on a weekend break like us?’

‘My mother lives round here.’ He turned up 6 Music, and they didn’t speak for the rest of the way.

The garage was a twenty-minute drive away. ‘206, is it?’ the owner said. ‘Earliest I can get you an exhaust is Tuesday.’

‘I’m meant to be on a 7 a.m. flight to Brussels on Monday,’ Nic told him. ‘Can’t you get one sooner?’

The man wiped his hands on a piece of greasy cloth. ‘I’ll see what I can do. It’s not so often I get such pretty ladies turning up on my doorstep. In the meantime I’ve got a car round the back you can use to get round in.’

‘Thanks.’ Nic batted her eyelashes coquettishly. ‘You’re our knight in shining overalls.’

Elliot had stayed outside. For the past couple of minutes he’d been having an intense conversation with someone on his mobile. There had been a lot of hand-waving and eye-rolling.

‘We’ve obviously caught him at a bad time,’ Poppet whispered.

They watched him walk back across the forecourt towards them. He held the phone out to Lizzy. ‘It’s for you.’

‘For me?’ she said confusedly.

Elliot looked pained. ‘Just take it, will you?’

She cautiously put the phone to her ear. ‘Hello?’

‘Is that one of Elliot’s friends?’ It was a woman with an American accent.

‘We’re more acquaintances,’ Lizzy said diplomatically. ‘Our car broke down and Elliot was, er, kind enough to give us a lift to the garage.’

‘Then you must come for afternoon tea!’ the woman cried.

Lizzy could feel Elliot’s eyes boring into her. ‘That’s very kind, but …’

The phone was practically snatched off her. ‘What have you said?’ Elliot snapped.

He listened for a few moments. ‘For God’s
sake
…’ He gazed out over the fields for a moment and visibly collected himself, before turning back round.

‘My mother and I would be delighted if you’d come round for a cup of tea this afternoon,’ he said, looking anything but.

It was hard to know who looked more awkward. Lizzy opened her mouth to decline, but Poppet got in there first.

‘We’d love to! Thank you.’

Elliot’s face dropped. ‘Right. Well, it’s Beeston Lodge,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Just off the B4589.’

The girls watched him walk back towards the Jeep. ‘What time do you want us to come?’ Poppet called.

He didn’t turn round. ‘Come when you want.’

‘Tell me again, why did you think it was a good idea to say yes?’ Nic asked.

They were driving along in a Volkswagen Polo with cobwebs stuck in the windscreen wipers. The owner had produced it from somewhere round the back of the garage. Lizzy wasn’t sure if it was technically a hire car, especially with the SpongeBob SquarePants air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror.

‘It would have been rude to say no!’ Poppet wailed. ‘I just panicked!’

All Lizzy could think about was the footage of Elliot gazing after Amber like a broken man. He’d obviously come to his mum’s to get away from everything, and here they were, gatecrashing his grief. This was going to be so awkward!

‘Left at the eagle,’ Nic instructed.

‘What eagle?’

‘The eagle!’ Nic pointed at a gatepost with a stone eagle on the top of it. ‘That bloke from the garage said to turn left at the eagle!’

The Polo did a sharp swerve, nearly taking out the other gatepost in the process. There was a large shiny new FOR SALE sign stuck in the ground.