Wildflowers (21 page)

I can’t move, just watch, completely mesmerised as the wrinkly rockers show us what they can do - and they’re truly out of this world.  After several minutes have elapsed, I glance around for Lulubelle again, desperately wanting to catch her eye and see how thrilled she is, but all I see is her back view as she disappears out of the room.  Oh my God – is something wrong?

I so want to watch Pete, but I have to
go and find her.  Everyone’s too engrossed in the band to see me slip outside after her and as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I make out her dim shape walking across the grass. 

I call after her but e
ven out here, the music’s so loud, she doesn’t hear me.

‘Lulubelle… LULUBELLE…’ I
shout, running after her.

By the time I catch
her up, she’s sitting on an old stone wall under the moonlight, her cheeks bright with tears.

‘Lulubelle, what is it? 
What’s happened?  Is it Cosmo
?’  I say, suddenly panicking.

But even upset, she
has such dignity.  She mops her cheeks and shakes her head.  ‘It’s not your fault, Frankie.  You weren’t to know.’   

‘
Oh my God
…
What have I done
?’ I cry hysterically.  ‘You have to tell me?  Not the band – aren’t they good enough? 
I thought Pete McNamara would definitely be good enough
…’

‘It’s not that.’  She
shakes her head and mops up more tears.  ‘They’re good, Frankie.  Really, really good.  It’s just…
Oh Frankie, Pete’s my bloody father
...’

And then slowly, all kinds of
things start to fall into place.  My legs are suddenly like water and I look for something to sit down on, as I try to put all the pieces together and make some vague sort of sense of them.

‘Pete?’ I say stupidly. 
‘Your father?  No…’  I shake my head.  ‘He can’t be… Maria told me…’

‘That his own daughter won’t come to his wedding,’ she says flatly.  ‘It’s true. 
That’s what I said.  I’ve always taken Mum’s side.’

I frown again, because for the life of me, I can’t
begin to imagine Lulubelle’s Mum married to Pete.

‘Well, that’s understandable, isn’t it?’ I
’m struggling.  ‘Maria told me how he reckons he deserves it too, for being unfaithful to her.’

‘
She told you that
?’ says Lulubelle bitterly. 

‘It’s like
being a hairdresser,’ I say hastily.  ‘You know, people tell you things when you’re a florist.  And Maria’s nice, Lulubelle – you’d really like her.’

‘Maybe
in another life,’ she sighs.  ‘But now, I just think too much has happened.’

‘She made a huge donation to Briarwood,’ I tell her.  ‘I’ve been asking
all my wedding clients to donate – just a tiny bit – and she was really generous.’

‘She can afford
it,’ says Lulubelle, quite rightly.

‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am.’  I shake my head remorsefully.  ‘I really am, Lulubelle. 
God.  How didn’t I realise?’

Suddenly it’s so
obvious, I can’t believe I hadn’t worked it out.  We sit not speaking, listening to the band, who in spite of what’s going on, sound incredible.

‘We used to play together,’ says Lulubelle softly
, another tear rolling down her face.  ‘With my old bass guitar… I don’t even know what happened to it after the divorce.’

And then I know where I recognise her from. 
Forgetting I’m supposed to be comforting her, I jump up and stand there in the moonlight, pointing at her. 

‘
You’re Bella Mac!  That’s how I know you!
Fuck, Lulubelle – why didn’t you tell me?’

In spite of herself, she manages a
ghost of a smile.  ‘Remember that old life I told you about?  That was it, with recording contracts and gigs and wild parties… That’s where Bella Mac belongs, not in the life I have now.  Please, Frankie – don’t tell anyone…’ she begs.  ‘With Cosmo to worry about, I really couldn’t cope.’

‘Of course…’
I’m puzzled.  Bella Mac was the star that every girl wanted to be.  With looks, talent, rock star blood in her veins – but I do understand and if that’s what she wants, I’ll keep her secret.

We go back in
side for the last half hour and in there, the atmosphere’s electric.  The dance floor is packed and there’s an energy I’ve never felt.

‘Could have charged twice as much for those tickets,’ shouts Johnny
, when he sees us.  ‘Bloody brilliant, Lulubelle!  Best evening ever!’

Even Ryan’s stopped scowling, still sitting there but twitching slightly, as
if he’s mad.  Nina and Will are out on the dance floor of course, boogying away with the rest of them. I watch, a little enviously. Trust her to find a handsome man who can dance as well. 

I
stand in the background watching them all as the tempo changes to a song I recognise.  It’s Star Flight, one of Pete’s most beautiful ballads ever, with a haunting riff that fills you with sadness and hope and love all at the same time.  Then I hear a voice in my ear.

‘May I have the pleasure?’

I turn round to find Alex standing there.  Talk about being put on the spot.  I’d rather dance with Ryan… Actually, I take that back. As I look into Alex’s warm, dark eyes, I really wouldn’t.

‘Okay,’ I say cautiously and as we walk towards the dance floor, I feel his hand lightly on the small of my back
.  Then suddenly I have goose bumps and as he takes me in his arms, I don’t know if it’s the music, but I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.

‘It’s been a great evening,’ he says
in my ear.  ‘Lulubelle’s done a fantastic job organising it.  And getting Pete McNamara was a coup, wasn’t it?  Really clever of her, keeping it a secret like that.  People will be talking about this for months.’

I
want to tell him everything about this crazy, brilliant night - that it was me who got Pete here, that he’s Lulubelle’s father and that Lulubelle used to be Bella Mac, but I don’t.  Instead I just nestle slightly closer, enjoying his closeness, liking how he smells kind of woody and male – I breathe it in.

‘Frankie?’  He sounds curious.  ‘
Are you sniffing me?’

‘No, of course not,’ I lie.  ‘I have a sniffle, that’s all.  Just a little overcome, I think, with this whole, magical evening…’

It satisfies him and this time I’m a little more subtle with my sniffing and he doesn’t notice, just smiles into my hair and holds me tighter.

T
he song comes to an end all too soon and everyone breaks into loud applause as Pete and his guys take a bow.  Then he does something else that amazes me.

‘We’re going to take a break,’ he announces
over the applause, ‘before we’re back for part two.  Don’t go away!’

I can’t believe he’s doing the rest of the evening
.  What he’s done already is totally awesome. But I realise too, I owe him an apology.

Reluctantly I pull away from Alex, who keeps hold of my hand as if he doesn’t want me to go anywhere. 
‘I’m really sorry, Alex, but there’s someone I really need to talk to.  Would you excuse me, just a moment?’

A
nd with that, leaving him standing there for the second time this evening, I go to look for Pete.

Pet
e’s halfway through a pint of lemonade when I catch him up by the bar and to my embarrassment, he sees me before I reach him.

‘Hey!  Frankie!  Come and meet the guys!’ he bellows, grabbing me in a bear hug.  ‘We’re having a blast –
playing like this is just like the old days, I can’t tell you!’

‘Pete, I need to talk to you – somewhere more quiet,’ I say urgently.  ‘Just quickly…’

‘See!  Just as in demand as I ever was,’ he chortles at his mates.  ‘Be right back!’

I take him backstage.

‘I’m
so
sorry, Pete – but I had absolutely no idea that Lulubelle was your daughter… You have to believe me.’

His air of bonhomie fades and his face becomes serious.  ‘Is she here?’

But as I open my mouth, a voice behind me speaks clearly. ‘Hello, Daddy.’

I stare from one to the other.  ‘Look, I’ll just get back to the others,’ I say hastily.  ‘I’m sure you two have plenty
to…’

But
as I walk past her, Lulubelle touches my arm.  ‘Frankie, stay…
please
…’

I feel terrible - that I’ve forced them both into such an awkward situation. 
But Pete only has eyes for his daughter.  Sorrowful, bright eyes, I notice, brimming over with regret. 

‘How’ve you been?’
His voice is gruff.

‘Fine.’
She nods.

‘And your nipper?’

‘Better at the moment – he has leukaemia.’

But
far from being shocked, he just nods.  Then I see – all along, he’s known.  He’s quietly kept tabs on her.  He’d known when I asked him what it would mean if he came and played tonight.  That was the reason he hesitated.  He’d been forced to choose between his daughter and the charity that means so much to them - both.  And all because of me.

It’s why Maria made such a huge donation
to Briarwood.  All without Lulubelle knowing, and like a thunderbolt I realise, that fame and celebrity are not what it’s about.  That things done in secret with the best of intentions mean so much more.

‘That’s good,’ Pete nods.  He studies her.  ‘
Look, I better get back to the others, but later on…’

But
Lulubelle walks towards him, reaching up and kissing him on the cheek.  ‘Thank you, so much, for doing this.’

He nods silently,
then walks away.

When I eventually awake on Sunday, I lie in bed a moment, remembering
the most wonderful, fabulous evening with good friends and fantastic food and dancing.  Apart from sitting next to Ryan, which was as pleasurable as pulling teeth. 

But I can honestly say
dancing with Alex numbed the pain of Ryan into oblivion. 

It’s funny how things turn out.
Who’d have thought Lulubelle was Bella Mac, teen rock princess, daughter of the famous Pete?  When she told me, I thought I’d burst if I didn’t tell someone but actually, in the cold light of day, I totally get it.  Because once the world catches on that she’s that elusive thing called celebrity, suddenly her life won’t be her own.  Everywhere she goes, she’d be recognised – and the other downside is snakes in the grass like Josh, who’d sell their Granny to the Germans for a story.

But
last night was fun… Seeing Honey and Johnny together - nifty dancers they are too. Almost, but not quite, as good as Nina and Will.  I yawn.  And dancing with Alex was
very nice
… Only I did play rather hard to get.  Too hard to get? Does it even matter?  I already know what he thinks of me, except I’m beginning to wonder, if just maybe, he’s changing his mind for some reason.  After all, would he have spent all evening with me if he didn’t like me
, just a bit
... 

And then my ponderings are interrupted by my mobile
, which means I have to drag myself out of bed to go and find it.

‘Frankie?’  Lulubelle sounds anxious.

‘Yes? 
Oh no!  What is it
?’  I say.
Oh no!
What have I done now..
.

‘We raised fifty grand!  I had to tell you! 
I’ve been up for hours counting!  Isn’t it brilliant?  Of course, it’s not completely finalised, but that’s what’s been pledged…’

‘Wow!  That’s just…’  Words fail me and then I remember I haven’t told her.

‘Your flowers are on the house too – one of my brides did a runner and told us to do what we wanted with the flowers, so Skye flogged them and the proceeds paid for last night’s flowers.’

‘Oh Frankie…’  She sounds overcome.  ‘
I can’t believe it.  You… everyone’s… been so generous…’

‘Oh, we all had a ball,’ I tell her.  ‘It was a fab evening, it really was.’

‘That’s in no small part down to you, Frankie.  If you hadn’t called my father, I don’t know what we would have done.  Last night… I know I was a bit…’

‘Upset?’ I offer.

‘I was going to say ungrateful,’ she says.  ‘And really, I’m not.  You completely saved the day.  And maybe, it was good for me too.  Daddy and I will talk at some point now… so from the bottom of my heart, thank you.’

But she needn’t have said that.  Just being part of raising all that dosh for Briarwood is the best feeling in the world. This time I know I’ll burst if I don’t tell someone so I call Alice, who brings me down to earth with a bump.

‘Guess what?’ I say when she answers.

‘You’ve got a hangover or shagged a new man,’ she says ungraciously.

‘You okay
, Al?  Only you sound a bit…’

‘
Hormonal
?’  she positively screams down the phone at me.  ‘Go on, say it Frankie, just like everyone else…’  And with that, she slams the phone down.

I sit there, slightly shell-shocked and leap out of my skin when the phone rings again, almost immediately.

‘I’m sorry,’ says Alice, humbly this time.  ‘I’m having a shit day – want to come over?’

There’s nothing
quite like an invitation to share somebody else’s shit day, so I go.  She’s on her own – it seems Dave has whisked Martha away on an outing.

‘Whatever is it?’ I say, handing her the bunch of daisies and herbs I picked up from the shop on the way. 
It’s carefully chosen too - if I don’t watch myself, I’ll be turning into another Mrs Orange.

‘Thank you,’ she says.  ‘They’re pretty.’

‘Rosemary,’ I tell her, ‘for remembrance, daisies for loyal love and purity, and mint for…’

‘For what?’

‘Can’t remember,’ I lie.  Mint is for suspicion, but it’s a pretty shade of green and it smells nice.  ‘Happiness, I think?  I’m not sure.’

Actually, I’ve started getting quite into flower meanings – though clearly, I need some practice.  After all,
I’ve seen what happens when you get it wrong... I sneak the mint out when she’s not looking – just in case.

‘So what’s up?  You still haven’t told me…’

‘It’s Dave.  Or me.  Both of us.’

‘You’re not getting
divorced
?’ I cry, horrified.  ‘Al!  You can’t possibly!  Think of Martha – and you and Dave… you were made for each other.’ 

She frowns at me.  ‘Who said anything about divorce?’

‘Oh… I just put two and two together and thought because everyone else is…’

‘Dave and I are not everyone else, Frankie.  God, I can’t believe you even thought that.  Divorce!
  Honestly…’

‘Then for goodness sake tell me what it is.’  I’m getting exasperated.

‘It’s just… well, I want another baby and Dave isn’t so sure.  And in a way, I do understand.  You know how practical he is – and children are expensive.  Just, well, I’d like Martha to grow up with a little brother or sister.  And you know how impulsive I am. Anyway, I threw my pills away, which caused a row.’

‘Oh.  Can’t you just fish them out of the bin?  They’re in foil – they’ll be fine.’

‘They’re not in the bin.  I popped them out and flushed them.’  She goes a bit pink, then giggles.

‘That’s not
very mature of you,’ I tell her, thinking
golly, maybe the mint wasn’t too far off the mark after all…
  ‘No wonder Dave’s cross.  It’s a big decision, Al – one you should make together.  I think you owe him an apology.’

‘I know.  You’re right.  I don’t know what came over me.  Actually,
I think I feel a bit dizzy…’  She sighs deeply and sits on one of the chairs.

‘Al?  Stay there - I’ll get you some water.’  She has gone rather pale.  She sips it slowly then turning a chalky shade of grey, bolts for the loo.

She’s gone a while and as I sit there, it dawns on me.  Flushing the pills away, the row with Dave,
just maybe
, it’s like shutting the stable door when the horse has bolted. 

‘Are you ill?’ I say pointedly, when she comes back into the kitchen.

She shakes her head.

‘Boobs?’
I ask her and she nods, looking confused.

‘Pregnancy test?’

Her jaw drops. 

When she comes back in holding the little stick that says she’s pregnant, her face is even paler.  ‘He’ll think I did it on purpose.’

I leave her, ever so slightly concerned she might be right
.  But that evening, when she calls me, she sounds more like her normal self again – well, as normal as is possible for Alice in the early stages of pregnancy. The trouble is I remember her last pregnancy only too well.  Worse than the worst bridezilla, her mood swings were a total nightmare, which was probably the real reason Dave didn’t want another one.

‘It’s ok,’ she whispers down the phone.  ‘When he and Martha
got home, he didn’t let me speak, just told me he’d been a prick and that another baby would make our family complete.  So I told him…’

‘Oh my God!’
I squeak.

‘He was gobsmacked – but pleased
, Frankie.  Really pleased.  We haven’t told Martha, just in case – you know – early days and all that.  I just wanted you to know.  Thanks for coming over earlier.  And sorry for being so horrible.’

‘Get lots of rest,’ I tell her.  ‘And try to relax – you know – chamomile tea, aromatherapy massages, long walks… You need to keep the stress down, Al…’

‘
Funny,’ she says.  ‘That’s exactly what Dave said.’