Take a Chance on Me (30 page)

Johnny was smiling, wearing a dark blue shirt and jeans, looking modest and unbelievably gorgeous. Cleo couldn’t help herself; just seeing him unexpectedly like this was enough to set off a whole cascade of emotions. Ravenswood had been standing empty for the past week. No one had known where he was.

‘Thanks so much to Johnny for making my dream come true. He’s absolutely exceeded my expectations, I couldn’t be happier with my beautiful sculptures, and I know I’m going to love them until the day I die!’ The woman—could this be Lady Rosemary?—was in her early fifties, plump, and smiley in a padded gilet and threadbare corduroy trousers. So much for preconceptions. She hugged Johnny before announcing, ‘Well, it’s getting a bit chilly so shall we all head back inside? Ooh, hello!’ Spotting Cleo hovering at the back of the crowd by the giant yew hedge, she added, ‘We have a new arrival. Have you come to whisk my favorite artist away?’

As they passed her on their way back up to the house, Cleo felt herself being scrutinized by the assembled guests. Were they laughing at her Nora Batty, corrugated tights? When it was just the three of them left, the woman clasped Cleo’s hand in both of hers and said warmly, ‘I’ve heard all about you, my dear. I’m Rose, by the way.’

What was going on? Cleo said, ‘Hello. I’m Cleo. Um… am I driving you to Shepton Mallet?’

‘No dear, you’re taking Johnny home. Now, I’ll just go and start pouring drinks for my thirsty friends. And you’re both more than welcome to join us if you’d like to.’ Beaming at Johnny over her shoulder as she disappeared through the archway, Rose said cheerfully, ‘Pretty girl. Gorgeous freckles. Funny tights!’

And then it was just the two of them left in the clearing, with the surrounding trees and the family of silver deer artfully spotlit, dusk falling around them and the grass wreathed in white mist.

Cleo met Johnny’s gaze for the first time. Something was definitely going on and nobody was explaining it to her. It was like one of those dreams where you find yourself on stage but nobody’s told you the name of the play you’re meant to be appearing in.

OK, first things first. Her mouth dry, she said, ‘What happened to Shepton Mallet?’

Johnny took a deep breath. ‘Sorry, that was down to Rose.’ He sounded less sure of himself than usual, which was weird for a start.

‘Why has she heard all about me?’

‘I’ve been working here for the last eight days. We got talking.’ He paused. ‘I had to talk to someone or I’d have gone mad. And getting you here like this was all her idea. If you’d known you were coming over to see me, it wouldn’t have been a surprise.’ Dryly Johnny added, ‘Surprises are very much Rose’s thing.’

Cleo’s heart had never beaten so fast. To give herself time to think, she said, ‘How’s Clarice?’

‘Very well. She’s going to be moving into Naish House next month.’

‘That’s… great.’

‘I know.’

She braced herself. ‘And how’s things with Honor?’

‘Honor’s fine. She’s very well too.’ Another pause. ‘We’re not together anymore. I finished with Honor last week.’

Oh good grief, was he serious?
Unable to contain herself, Cleo blurted out,
‘You did? Why? Why would you
do
that?’

He held up his hand to stop her. ‘OK, let me explain something. When I was living in the States, Honor and I were seeing each other and things weren’t really working out. The relationship had pretty much run its course, but Honor panicked when I tried to end it. Then she met this other guy and told me our relationship was over. That way, she wasn’t the one being dumped. Which was absolutely fine by me. I was relieved. But then last month that all went pear-shaped when she realized what a prat he was. And that was when she called me, while I was in Norfolk and Barbara was about to die. The next thing I knew, she’d jumped on the next plane. And she’d turned down this multi-million dollar deal to be with me, so what could I say? Tell her thanks but no thanks?’ He shook his head. ‘I couldn’t do that to her. She’s a sweet girl with a good heart. So I felt I had to go along with it, give it another try.’

‘Until a week ago.’ Cleo’s teeth were chattering. ‘What happened?’

‘You really want to know?’ He gazed steadily at her. ‘OK, I’ll say it. You happened.’

‘What?’

‘Remember when I asked you to come over to the house and keep Clarice company for the evening?’

‘Yes.’
Oh God, what was she supposed to do with all this adrenaline?

‘You said you’d do it. Then you said, “What time do you want me?”’ Johnny waited, then dipped his head. ‘And I wanted to say,
All the time
.’

Silence. In the distance an owl screeched. Cleo shivered; was this really happening? It
felt
as if it was happening, but how could she be absolutely sure?

‘And that was the moment I knew what I had to do,’ said Johnny. ‘Even if I end up looking like a complete idiot. Because maybe you don’t feel the same way about me, but ever since I came back to Channings Hill, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.’

Could he hear how fast her heart was beating? It was like a kangaroo trying to batter its way out of her chest. Risking a brief smile, Cleo said, ‘Thinking what about me?’

‘Only good things. I’m serious now. Since the day of Dad’s funeral, you’ve been… in here.’ He tapped the side of his head.

Oh God, how brilliant
. ‘Why me, though? Why me and not Honor?’

‘OK, off the top of my head.’ Johnny counted off on his fingers. ‘If you broke one of your nails, would you call up your manicurist and tell her to get on a plane and come and sort it out?’

‘I might,’ said Cleo.

‘If I frowned and my forehead moved, would you go on and on and on at me, telling me I really should get myself Botoxed?’

‘It’s a possibility.’

‘If I told you I was making arrangements for my aunt to move down to a nursing home in Bristol, would you say, “Ah Jeez, does she have to? That means she’ll keep wanting to come and stay”?’

He’d captured Honor’s accent to perfection. Shocked but at the same time delighted, Cleo said, ‘God, did she really say that?’

Johnny shrugged. ‘It’s not why I finished with her. I did that because she wasn’t you. OK, shall I make a confession now?’

‘Yes please.’

‘You’re funny and stroppy and you have no idea how gorgeous you are.’ He paused. ‘You’re the reason I came back to live in Channings Hill.’

She blinked. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘It’s true. Would you like another confession?’

‘Definitely,’ said Cleo.

‘This is a shameful one.’

‘My favorite kind.’

‘When I bet you couldn’t last six months without a boyfriend, it was because I didn’t want you getting involved with anyone else.’

Cleo’s stomach squirmed with joy. ‘Remind me again how much money was involved? I can’t wait to win this bet.’

‘I haven’t finished yet with the confessions.’

‘Sorry. Carry on.’

‘All these months I’ve wanted to kiss you.’ Johnny shook his head. ‘So badly. God, all this time and I haven’t even
kissed
you…’

Cleo swallowed. ‘You’re making me nervous now.’

‘Why?’

‘Because what if I’m rubbish at it? I might kiss like a washing machine.’

Johnny said, ‘Has it occurred to you that I might be nervous too?’

She shook her head. ‘Now you’re the one talking rubbish. You’re never nervous.’

‘I never have been before.’ He moved closer. ‘But I am now. Apart from anything else, I’ve told you how I feel about you and you haven’t said anything back. You could be about to tell me to take a running jump.’

Cleo gazed up at him. He sounded as if he meant it, but this was the most confident man she’d ever encountered in her life. Without warning, she reached out and pressed the flat of her hand against the warm triangle of chest exposed by his open-necked shirt…

Thudthudthudthudthudthud…

Johnny exhaled, mortified. ‘Oh God, could you
hear
my heart beating?’

How funny that in all these years it had never once occurred to her that men might worry about this too. A smile spread across Cleo’s face as she reached for his hand and placed it at the base of her own throat.

Dahdahdahdahdahdah…

Johnny felt it, then visibly relaxed. ‘Nearly as fast as mine.’

Did he kiss her or did she kiss him? Cleo had no idea how it happened; all she knew was that they met in the middle, their mouths touching and magically appearing to already know each other. Johnny wrapped his arms around her, she ran her fingers through his hair and it felt so perfect she never wanted it to end.

Which, for quite a long time, it didn’t. Until finally they had to come up for air.

Johnny was smiling and stroking her face. ‘Not a bit like a washing machine.’

‘Nor you.’

He touched the freckle below her right eye. ‘Final confession?’

‘Go ahead.’ How were her legs still managing to hold her up?

‘I love you. I really do. And I feel like such a novice, because I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before.’

I love you.
There it was. The last time someone had said those words to her, it had been Will, in the pub that day when she’d told him she wanted nothing more to do with him. Her very first
I love you
, and it had been horrible, so completely wrong.

But this time it felt wonderful. Johnny was saying it and it felt blissfully, perfectly
right
. Cleo swallowed; she wasn’t at all sure her legs
were
still holding her up. If he hadn’t been holding her, she’d be in a heap on the grass. Faintly she said, ‘This had better not be a joke…’

‘Oh God, don’t even think that! I’ve felt guilty about that for
years…
’

‘Guilty about what?’

‘That stupid bet. The night of the school disco.’ Johnny shook his head, mortified. ‘I’ve wanted to apologize for that so many times, but I just didn’t have the nerve. Then I thought—hoped—that maybe you’d forgotten all about it, so what would be the point of bringing it up again? But you hadn’t forgotten about it, had you? I’m so sorry.’

He truly meant it. Magically, the burden of embarrassment rose up and floated away. Cleo said happily, ‘I’ve forgotten about it now. Anyway, carry on with what you were saying.’

‘OK, maybe this is jumping the gun,’ Johnny went on, ‘but all these years, you’re the one I’ve been waiting for. Because I know I could spend the rest of my life with you. I
want
to spend the rest of my life with you…’ Another kiss, then he said in a voice that wasn’t completely steady, ‘Will you give me a chance to prove it?’

Cleo said, ‘Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep. Let’s just take it one day at a time, shall we?’

‘Fine, but I know how I feel, and I know this is a promise I can keep. I’m not going to change my mind about you.’ The look in his eyes told her how much he meant it. ‘You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.’

Cleo felt her heart expand with joy. Until he’d said them, she hadn’t dared to admit even to herself that hearing those words from Johnny LaVenture was all she’d ever wanted too. If it had happened years ago, it would never have worked. But now… now it was right, it was
perfect
. She tilted her head.
Hang on
…

‘What’s that noise?’

Johnny straightened up and listened. It was only faint but there was some kind of whooping.

‘Oh don’t worry about that.’ Having turned to look behind him, he said with amusement, ‘It’s just Rose, celebrating because she’s been proved right.’

Earlier, Cleo had briefly wondered why anyone would commission a truly spectacular sculpture and situate it in a wooded clearing, obscured from general view by a twelve-foot high yew hedge.

Now she discovered that, like Stonehenge, the sculpture had been carefully positioned so that from the glass orangerie at the side of the house you had a perfect view of it through the archway cut in the hedge.

It was also apparent that, along with the family of steel deer behind them, she and Johnny were illuminated in the glow of the silvery spotlights.

And Rose wasn’t the only one waving and cheering. All her guests were gathered at the full-length windows; they were quite the center of attention.

‘We’ll have to stay for a quick drink,’ said Johnny. ‘Let her have her moment of glory.’

‘This is going to be so embarrassing,’ said Cleo.

‘It won’t, it’ll be fine, I promise. Hey, where are you going? Jesus, are you taking all your clothes off?’ Alarmed, Johnny said, ‘Hey, I don’t want to wait either but we can’t do anything here, not with everyone watching.’

Behind the hedge, just about hidden from view of the orangerie, Cleo did what she had to do and said, ‘Don’t panic, I’m not getting naked. Just taking these Godawful tights off. Here, hide them in your pocket.’

Johnny held them up and fondly contemplated them, wrinkled and ugly and the color of builder’s tea. ‘Fine, but we’re never going to throw these away. They’ll be a memento of an unforgettable day.’ Sliding his arm around Cleo’s waist as they made their way beneath the yew arch, he murmured, ‘You can wear them under your wedding dress when we get married.’

Did he think she was completely stupid? ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ said Cleo. ‘Why don’t you?’

The End

Jill Mansell lives with her partner and children in Bristol and writes full time. Actually, that’s not true; she watches TV, eats gum drops, admires the rugby players training in the sports field behind her house, and spends hours on the Internet marveling at how many other writers have blogs. Only when she’s
completely
run out of ways to procrastinate does she write.