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Authors: Cathy Kelly

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BOOK: What She Wants
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‘So it’s fantasy, right?’

‘Ha ha. No, seriously, it’s a bit of fun.’

The beer arrived.

‘Are you going to send it to an agent?’ Dan asked, fishing in his pocket for change to pay the barman.

‘Forget it,’ Matt said.

‘Why ever not? It could be the answer to all your prayers. You could make us all sick by getting paid a megabuck advance to sit at home all day and take the mickey out of the world of advertising.’

‘Out of people like you, you mean?’

‘Yeah, like me. Go on, what have you got to lose?’

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Dinky heard the doorbell first and began barking. ‘You’re a great early warning system,’ Virginia smiled at her little dog. She slowly got to her feet, wiped the earth off the knees of her old gardening trousers and walked up past the gnarled old crab apple trees, stripping off her gardening gloves as she did so. Weeding was very therapeutic. Virginia loved working in the pale evening sunlight, clearing the flower beds slowly and methodically. Her baby sedum plants were almost smothered by some perfidious bindweed and a crop of particularly virulent nettles. Too much golf was bad for the garden, she decided. She’d been playing at least three times a week recently, once with Kevin and the other times with three very nice local lady golfers who were delighted to have someone else to make up a fourball. Of course, she was still very much a beginner but she no longer hit the ball sideways and her putting had improved beyond all recognition. And her three new golf partners were so encouraging. They were so full of stories about how hopeless they’d been in the beginning and how one of them had once hit a ball backwards straight into her husband’s foot, that Virginia’s confidence was growing. If only she could improve her bunker shots. Thinking of this, she opened the front door and found an elderly couple complete with two suitcases standing on the step. The woman was leaning heavily on a walking stick and her frail face was pale with tiredness. ‘Thank goodness you’re open,’ the man said delightedly. ‘When we couldn’t reach you on the phone, we were afraid you’d gone out of business.’

 

Virginia stared at both of them and at the man’s hand which was holding a three-year-old copy of the bed and breakfast guide which listed Kilnagoshell as a charming, olde worlde retreat where guests could escape the rat race and enjoy Margaret Delahunty’s famous cooked breakfasts and her husband Jasper’s wonderful dinners. ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Virginia said, meaning it, ‘but this is a private home now. It’s not a B & B any more.’ Both faces fell and the woman looked as if she might faint. ‘Oh no,’ said the man. ‘We should have phoned, I’m sorry. Monica, are you all right?’ he added in alarm as Monica wobbled a bit. ‘Come in,’ Virginia said firmly. ‘Leave the cases there. Nobody’s going to steal them. Maybe a cup of tea will help you and I’ll phone the nearest B & B - that’s Mrs Egan’s down the road - and see if they have any vacancies.’ ‘Thank you so much,’ said Monica gratefully as her husband helped her in. Virginia led them into the drawing room, which was high ceilinged and faded in a shabby genteel way, almost exactly the same as it had been before except that Virginia’s furniture now stood on the old flowered carpet which must have been there since the thirties. The curtains were beautifully made eggshell blue damask, with velvet fringing that was nearly all worn away with age. ‘It’s just the same,’ cried Monica, looking around her. ‘A bit different, probably,’ Virginia said. ‘I haven’t changed much since I’ve been here, though. I’m Virginia Connell, by the way.’ ‘Edmund and Monica Harris,’ said the man. ‘Thank you so much for this. Monica hasn’t been well recently and I couldn’t imagine making her drive off again without a rest.’ Introductions over, Virginia got up to make tea. She was back in ten minutes with tea and a plate of the cookies she’d made for a charity cake sale in town. To her relief, Monica was looking healthier, although she

 

was now embarrassed to have made such a nuisance of herself and to have interrupted Virginia’s day. ‘That’s perfectly all right,’ Virginia said kindly, handing her visitors their tea. ‘The only thing you interrupted was a bit of weeding and I can do that anytime.’ ‘Monica loved weeding,’ Edmund said fondly, putting sugar in his wife’s tea. ‘She’s a talented gardener but since her hips went, she can’t bend.’ ‘I did get one of those long-handled weeder things but I’m so slow at it, that it annoys me,’ Monica added. ‘The gardens here are beautiful, but they must be so much work.’ ‘So you have been here before?’ Virginia asked. ‘We came here for our honeymoon and I’ve never forgotten it.’ It was Virginia’s turn to look surprised. ‘Did you get married recently?’ ‘Oh no, fifty years ago. All we could manage was a week away and we came here, it was wonderful.’ ‘But that’s incredible,’ Virginia said in amazement. ‘I had no idea Kilnagoshell was a B & B that long ago. When I bought it, I was led to believe that it was turned into one only twenty years ago or thereabouts.’ ‘You see, the O’Neills, the family who owned it since the twenties, went through a bad time financially and the only way out was to take in guests. It wasn’t like a B & B, really,’ Edmund said. ‘More like staying with friends in a house in the country and paying your way. There were no locks on the doors or anything and we’d all sit in here before dinner and have a little drink with Major O’Neill.’ ‘And dinner was whatever had been shot or caught that day. It was like a dinner party, you didn’t have a choice but the food was delicious,’ added Monica wistfully. ‘We’ve stayed in the top hotels round the world, and there was none of them could beat Kilnagoshell.’ ‘It’s the atmosphere,’ Edmund added. ‘You can’t buy atmosphere, no matter how much money you put into a place.’ For a moment, Virginia thought of Mrs Egan’s de luxe

 

:

B & B with its dead plain facade, chipped front gate and the few withered looking geraniums that sat in plastic pots outside the gate. Whenever Virginia allowed herself to peer in as she passed, she could see net curtains hanging stiffly as though starched and she had once noticed a cat-frightener device in the front garden to deter any unwary felines from doing their business in Mrs Egan’s sliver of mossy lawn. The only atmosphere Virginia could imagine in such a house was an atmosphere of uncomfortableness. On an impulse, she turned to Monica and Edmund: ‘I’m not precisely equipped for it, but would you like to stay here tonight? On a no-pay basis because I have no insurance for paying guests and anyway,’ she smiled warmly, ‘no B & B inspector has been past these doors for years.’ It was worth it to see their faces light up. ‘That would be wonderful,’ said Monica, tears in her eyes. ‘I’ve some news for you,’ Virginia said the following evening when she phoned Jamie to say hello. ‘Ditto,’ he said joyfully. ‘You first, Mum.’ ‘No,’ insisted Virginia in alarm. ‘I’m a mother and I worry. You first or I’ll spend the next ten minutes thinking that your news is bad and that you’re going to travel round the world as a male strippergram or something.’ ‘Mum!’ Jamie was scandalized. ‘They say the money’s very good,’ teased his mother. ‘Go on, spill the beans.’ ‘Laurie will probably be phoning you later to tell you that it’s off with him and Sergeant Major Barbara.’ ‘Off?’ Virginia was astonished. ‘Off. The engagement is off and I can’t say I’m not pleased. In fact, I’ve just rung Dominic and Sally to tell them the good news too, but you’ve got to pretend that you know nothing. Promise? I only know ‘cos I dropped into Laurie earlier to return a video and he told me.’ ‘Oh, the poor boy.’ Virginia was devastated at the thought of her beloved Laurence being upset.

 

‘Poor boy my backside! He’s had a lucky escape.’ The fact that Virginia agreed with Jamie didn’t stop her remonstrating with him: ‘He’s upset,’ she said. ‘Having someone break off an engagement with you is a huge thing, it’s going to be very traumatic,’ she said. ‘Mum, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick,’ Jamie said. ‘She didn’t break it off; he did.’ This time, Virginia did gasp. ‘He probably wants to tell you himself, Mum, but I couldn’t resist,’ Jamie said. ‘It’s totally possible that Barbara will phone you in floods of tears asking you to intervene. She’s such a little madam.’ ‘I’d hate to see her try and get me on her side,’ Virginia said, her mouth in a grim line. ‘That’s the best thing Laurence has done in years.’ ‘Mum,’ said Jamie. ‘Yes?’ ‘Please tell him that, won’t you?’ ‘Not in so many words, Jamie. We have to be gentle with him. No matter who broke the engagement, it’s a big shock.’ ‘And what’s your big news?’ ‘I’m going to turn Kilnagoshell House back into a B & B.’ ‘Great, Mum,’ said Jamie. ‘You’ll be a wonderful landlady. Look, I must fly. I’m going out with the lads tonight. Talk soon, byee.’ Virginia couldn’t stop herself smiling as she hung up. Jamie was hilarious. Nothing fazed him. She could have said she was starting a brothel and his reaction would have been the same. To hear him blithely say it was a great idea made Virginia laugh to think that she’d spent a near-sleepless night thinking of the very possibility. Dinky and she had sat up until half one, considering every angle of the plan, until Virginia had got annoyed with herself and marched off to bed, informing Dinky that her mistress was an idiot who couldn’t run a game of Scrabble, never mind a bed and breakfast. But when she’d woken that morning and still felt full of vigour and enthusiasm, she’d changed her mind.

 

Kilnagoshell was made to be lived in, made to be full of people. Turning it back into a B & B was a wonderful idea and she was determined to go through with it.

She longed to phone Mary-Kate to discuss it but didn’t want the phone engaged in case Laurence tried to phone. She refused to phone him first and act like the overprotective mama. Let him tell her in his own good time.

He phoned after nine.

‘Hi Laurence,’ she said warmly.

‘Jamie’s told you, hasn’t he?’ said Laurence instantly.

‘Can I have no secrets from you?’ asked Virginia guiltily.

‘You sounded so sympathetic,’ Laurence explained, ‘I just knew.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘Not really. Just that she was driving me mad. She wasn’t marrying me, Mum, she was marrying the dentist. She fancied herself as the dentist’s wife, that was it.’

Virginia knew it was time to say nothing.

‘How are you, Mum? Still playing golf with the handsome widower?’

‘Snap,’ said Virginia. ‘We are not an item any more, if we ever were, for that matter.’

‘What happened?’

‘He was still in love with his wife,’ she said simply. ‘Oh Mum, I’m sorry. He sounded great. He was good for you.’

‘Not good enough,’ Virginia attempted to joke.

‘Don’t worry, some gorgeous bloke will come along who is good enough for you.’ ‘I think I’ve finished dipping my feet in the dating pool,’ she said.

‘Don’t be defeatist,’ said Laurence. ‘I’m not giving up and neither should you.’

Virginia’s heart missed a beat. ‘Would you mind me finding a gorgeous bloke?’ she asked gently. ‘Would that be all right? You wouldn’t feel I was betraying your dad?’

 

Laurence laughed heartily. ‘If any of us gave you the lightest bit of hassle over seeing another man, Dad would me straight down from heaven and beat us black and blue!’ Virginia relaxed. ‘He would, wouldn’t he? He was a special man, your father,’ she added wistfully. ‘I’ll never find anyone like him again. He was a one-off.’ ‘Cheer up, Mum. There’s no harm in looking.’ Once Laurence was off the phone, she rang Mary-Kate, who was so pleased at the idea of turning Kilnagoshell back into a B & B that you’d have thought she’d come up with it herself. ‘I knew you’d do it!’ she crowed delightedly. ‘It’s perfect, it’s just what you need and it’s just what Redlion needs: a classy, atmospheric country house hotel.’ ‘I didn’t say hotel,’ said Virginia in alarm. ‘Country house hotel,’ insisted Mary-Kate. ‘That’s different. Beautiful, elegant and atmospheric - and you don’t need a Jacuzzi either. Tell me,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘when were you thinking of opening?’ ‘I hadn’t got that far …’ Virginia said. ‘Why?’ ‘Because we still can’t find the right venue for Delphine’s wedding and we could have it in Kilnagoshell. Think of it, Virginia, we could get all hands on deck to do your place up and the money for the wedding would help pay for renovations. Isn’t it a wonderful idea?’ ‘God Mary-Kate,’ Virginia shook her head ruefully. ‘You’re not a woman: you’re a force of nature.’

From the way Lydia shuffled into Sam’s office on the Monday morning after the conference, Sam knew something was wrong. Normally, Lydia was bright and breezy, ready to chat to Sam as she brought in the mail and the coffee, filling Sam in on her love life even though Sam had never asked for an update on Jake/Phil/whoever. But today, there was no spring in Lydia’s step. Perhaps she wasn’t well, Sam reflected, flicking expertly through her post. She drank some coffee,

 

made some notes for letters to be replied to, then called Lydia into the office. ‘Yes,’ Lydia said. She was white in the face, Sam realized. ‘Everything OK?’ Sam asked. Lydia nodded her head tautly. ‘Yes,’ she said. She was lying, Sam was sure of it. But Sam had other things on her mind, like Steve Parris and how he’d behave to her now they were back in London, in Steve’s domain. In Vegas, they’d never been alone thanks to the chaperonage of other conference delegates and the company bigwigs that Steve loved hanging out with. The morning passed with painful slowness. Lydia’s misery wrapped itself round the office like a fog. Finally, Sam had had enough. She could barely concentrate. ‘I’m going to the Italian for a bit to eat. Will you come with me?’ she asked. The startled expression on Lydia’s face made her resemble a duck who’d been asked to go on an all-expenses paid trip to a l’orange. ‘All right,’ she stammered. In the tiny Italian cafe, Sam ordered a pesto dish she didn’t really want. She wasn’t hungry but she liked Lydia and if there was any chance of getting her once-super-efficient assistant back on the rails, a private little lunch was it. If she was gentle, perhaps Lydia would spill the beans and things could go back to normal. But she didn’t need to prod. Lydia started the ball rolling herself. ‘I feel so guilty,’ Lydia said, hanging her head over her half-nibbled breadstick. ‘Why?’ asked Sam conversationally. ‘Because I’ve asked personnel to move me to another department and now I wish I hadn’t.’ Sam gaped at her in shock. ‘You asked to be moved? But why?’ Lydia hung her head. ‘Because you’ve been so hard to work with lately and I can’t cope. I’ve been having a rough

BOOK: What She Wants
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