Making Your Mind Up (27 page)

Last week's wild storms had passed and the Hestacombe valley was once more looking as a Cotswold valley should look in the depths of autumn. The trees were a riot of color, and the sun had turned the fallen leaves to crisps. Crunching her way along the narrow leaf-strewn lane, Lottie had to dodge chestnuts as they dropped, gleaming and waxy, from their prickly casings. A fox darted in front of her, its russet tail brushing the ground as it searched for the scent of easy prey among the undergrowth. In the distance a rook cawed, its plaintive cry echoing across the glassy surface of the lake. Lottie, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her red jacket, realized she was holding her breath as she rounded the bend in the lane that would reveal Fox Cottage ahead. The best thing would be if Kate Moss had gotten tired of waiting for him and gone. The very best thing would be if she'd gotten tired of waiting and had gone back to America.

But no. The very best things had a habit of not happening when you wanted them to. The car, a nondescript gray Audi, was still there. The girl, about as far from nondescript as it was physically possible to be, was sitting in the driver's seat.

She pressed a button to lower the window as Lottie approached the car. Smiled.

“OK, I know what you're probably thinking, but you don't have to worry, I promise. I'm not a mad stalker.”

This was just what Lottie was afraid of. Mad stalkers were easily dispatched; they could be carted off by the police and charged with mad stalking. You couldn't ask them to arrest a completely normal girl because she was too beautiful.

“My name's Liana.” A slender hand was held out for Lottie to shake, the fingers delicate and Barbie-like. “I'm a good friend of Tyler's.”

That was the other thing Lottie had been afraid of. She wasn't proud of it, but she couldn't help herself. Next to Liana even Halle Berry might feel a bit dumpy and plain.

Lottie said, “Is he expecting you?”

“No, I wanted it to be a surprise. Although he has invited me over lots of times,” Liana hastened to explain, “so hopefully it'll be a nice one!”

The brochure lay on the passenger seat next to her, open to the page showing a map of the grounds. This was how she had located Fox Cottage, Lottie realized. Under the circumstances she could hardly order the girl off the property, tempting though it—

“Hey, that could be him now.” Liana's eyes lit up at the sound of an approaching car. “Oh wow, I'm so excited! Is it him? Is it? Oh my God, it
is
!”

Lottie found herself almost splattered cartoon-style against the side of the car as Liana flung open the driver's door and leaped out. Metaphorically picking herself up, Lottie watched as Liana raced over to Tyler. His response was all-important here; if he looked appalled and tried to lock himself back in his car, that would indicate that she wasn't, in fact, as welcome as she imagined. Whereas if he—

“You're here! Hey, I don't believe it! This is
incredible
.” Tyler, his arms outstretched, enveloped Liana in a hug and swung her around. “It's so good to see you again. Why didn't you tell me you were coming? My God, let me look at you. More beautiful than ever.”

“Shhh, you're making me blush.” Liana laughingly pressed a perfect Barbie-type finger to his lips. “And we're not alone. You mustn't embarrass other people.”

“Trust me, nothing embarrasses Lottie.”

Feeling foolish because Tyler had never even so much as mentioned Liana when he clearly should have done, Lottie said, “Well, I'll leave you to it. Um…Ginny Thompsett's invited you to a party tonight at Harper's Barn.”

Tyler said, “I don't think so. Not now that Lee's here.” He gazed down at Liana. “How long are you staying?”

“As long as you like. I'm easy.” Liana gave his hand a squeeze. “My cases are in the trunk of the car.”

Lottie knew when she was beaten. Whoever Liana was, she was here now. Maybe it was just as well she hadn't gotten herself involved with Tyler, if girlfriends of this caliber were likely to pop up out of the woodwork. Turning to leave, she said, “I'll tell Ginny you can't make it.”

“Thanks.” Clearly distracted, Tyler said, “Have you been invited?”

“Me? Yes.” Lottie watched as Liana opened the trunk of her car to reveal four enormous powder-blue suitcases.

“Have fun then,” Tyler said easily.

“Oh, I will.”

“You have a great time at the party,” Liana chimed in, cheerily waving Lottie good-bye. “It's been real nice to meet you. See you around!”

* * *

“I don't know how to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” As always the sound of Tom's voice on the telephone caused Cressida's heart to miss a beat. She smiled, convinced that he was teasing her. It was Friday morning and she was in the kitchen making a shepherd's pie for when Tom and Donny arrived tonight.

“My mother's had a fall and broken her hip,” said Tom.

This time Cressida's heart skipped a couple beats, and not in a happy way. “Is this a joke?”

“I wish it was. She's been taken to the hospital and they're going to operate tomorrow. But she's gotten herself into a state,” Tom went on wearily. “She wants me there with her. How can I refuse?”

“She's your mother. Of course you have to be there.” Tears of disappointment and frustration slid down Cressida's cheeks. Appalled by her utter selfishness, she dashed them away. “Poor thing, she must be so upset. Don't worry about us; you go to your mum. I'll make her a special Get Well Soon card.”

“I'm sorry,” said Tom.

Poor man, he sounded wretched. “So am I. But it doesn't matter a bit.” Consolingly Cressida said, “By the time we're in our nineties we're bound to meet up.”

When she got off the phone, she vented her rage on the bag of Maris Pipers on the table, hurling potato after potato at the kitchen wall.

“Why me?” Cressida bellowed, ducking as a potato ricocheted off the ceiling and missed her face by inches. “Why meee?” The next potato hit her favorite coffee mug and sent it flying into the sink. That did it. Now her favorite mug was broken. Grabbing every potato in the bag, she began flinging them in every direction like a demented cricket player. “Aaarrrgh, why meee? Why meee? Why—bloody—bollocking—fucking—
meeeeee
?”

Oh Jesus, how long had the doorbell been ringing?

Panting like a cornered animal, Cressida froze. The doorbell shrilled again. Whoever it was must have heard her. She couldn't pretend not to be in. She hastily wiped her face, combed her fingers through her agitated hair, and forced herself to take deep breaths.

Right, just act normally. Maybe she hadn't been as loud as she thought and they hadn't heard anything at all.

Ted from the village shop was standing on her doorstep.

“Are you having a nervous breakdown?” Ted approached the subject with his habitual tact and finesse.

“No, Ted, I'm fine.”

“Didn't sound fine to me, wailing like a banshee.”

Cressida did her best to look haughty. “Sorry, I was just a bit…upset about something. I'm OK now. How can I help you?”

Ted mopped his forehead with a big hanky. “You were in earlier asking for a walnut cake and I told you the delivery van hadn't arrived yet. Well, now it has. So if you want a cake, you can come over and get one.”

Why was he looking behind her like that? Turning, Cressida saw that there were potatoes scattered along the hall carpet.

“That's really kind of you, Ted. But I was expecting guests and now they're not coming, so I won't be needing a walnut cake after all.”

What must he think of her? Cressida didn't have to wait long to find out.

“Fine.”

“Sorry you've had a wasted journey.” If you could call ambling up the High Street a journey.

“I wouldn't call it wasted. I'm very glad I came.” Ted paused, shook his head, and said heavily, “You're not a bad-looking woman, you know. I've had my eye on you for some time.”

Eek! “Oh…er…”

“You're on your own, I'm on my own,” he went on. “To be honest, I thought we might make a go of things, you and me. I was going to ask you if you'd like to come out for a drink with me one night.” Ted waited again, breathing noisily through his nose. “But now I've heard the kind of language you use, I'm afraid you've blown your chances. I won't be inviting you out after all.”

“OK.” Looking suitably chastened, Cressida closed the front door. She headed back into the kitchen, collected up a few loose potatoes, and said, “Thank fuck for that.”

Lottie had been at her desk for almost two hours when Tyler arrived in the office the next morning. She glanced at the clock on the wall—ten to eleven—and heroically resisted the urge to say good afternoon.

Because that would be childish.

“Everything OK?” Tyler took off his jacket.

I don't know. Is it? Did you spend last night having sex with Liana?

Lottie didn't say this either. Instead she said easily, “Everything's fine. That was a nice surprise for you yesterday, Liana turning up like that.”

The look Tyler gave her told Lottie that she wasn't fooling anyone.

“It's kind of a tricky situation. Liana's a friend.”

“Quite a good friend by the look of things.”

Tyler came and sat on the edge of her desk. He looked thoughtful.

“Remember I told you why I came here? Why I quit my job in New York?”

“Your friend died.” Lottie was superaware of his proximity, his denim-clad thigh.

“Curtis.” Tyler nodded in agreement. “My best friend since we were kids.” Another pause. “He and Liana were engaged.”

Engaged. Relief rolled over Lottie like a wave on a beach. Liana had been Curtis's fiancée, nothing more than that. So she and Tyler really were just good friends.

Except…that wasn't quite right, was it? There
was
more to it than just that.

“So if things had worked out between you and me,” Lottie said slowly, “would she still have turned up?”

“No.” Shaking his head, Tyler picked up a pencil and began tapping it against the desk. “This is why I have to explain what's going on. We've kept in touch since I came over here. Liana asked me if I was seeing anyone and I said no. Because I wasn't.”

“Right.” Lottie nodded. Thanks to Nat and Ruby, it was true.

“Liana's a fantastic girl. She met Curtis at a party two years ago. It was love at first sight for both of them, and when he introduced her to me I could see why. They were perfect for each other.”

“Were you jealous?” said Lottie. “Did you wish you'd found her first?”

“No, nothing like that.” Tyler shook his head firmly. “I was just glad Curtis had found himself a girl I got on well with. I didn't secretly lust after her. She was Curtis's girlfriend. I wouldn't even consider her in that way. And Liana didn't either,” he went on before Lottie could ask another bad-taste question. “We liked each other, enjoyed each other's company. Nothing more than that. When Curtis told me they were getting married I couldn't have been happier. He asked me to be his best man. If they'd had children, I'd have been a godparent.” There was a pause.

“But that never happened,” said Lottie.

“No,” Tyler agreed, “because Curtis died fifty years before he was supposed to die. You can imagine the effect that had on Liana.”

“On you too.”

“It was worse for her. Curtis was her whole life. She was in a desperate state.” The pencil between Tyler's fingers was tapping faster now. “We spent a lot of time together. I did what I could to help her through those first months. She could talk about Curtis, knowing I'd understand. But we were just friends, nothing more. It was purely platonic.”

Lottie looked at his left foot jiggling away. “Until…”

“Until one night four months after Curtis had died. Out of the blue, Liana asked me if I thought she'd ever meet anyone and be happy again. I told her of course she would, she was a beautiful girl with everything going for her. Then she started crying and I wiped her eyes,” said Tyler. “That was when she started kissing me.”

It was horrible, hearing something you had absolutely no right to object to, but feeling sick with jealousy anyway. “And you kissed her back,” said Lottie.

“It was one of those weird situations I'd never expected to happen.” Tyler was gazing out of the window. “We got a bit carried away. I honestly hadn't thought of Liana like that before, because in my mind she belonged to Curtis.”

Lottie knew she shouldn't ask, but keeping quiet had never been her forte. “You slept with her.”

Tyler nodded, his jaw taut. “I did. We didn't stop to ask whether it was a good idea. Of course, by the next morning I'd realized it wasn't. Liana was still grieving for Curtis. The last thing she needed was to jump into a new relationship. We were friends and we didn't want to risk spoiling that for the sake of some crazy rebound relationship that would only end in tears. It was too soon for anything serious.”

The pencil flicking between his fingers abruptly flew across the desk, hitting Lottie just below her left nipple.
Ouch
.

Tyler smiled briefly and said, “Sorry. Anyway, we talked it through and Liana agreed with me. Neither of us wanted to spoil what we already had. So that was it, we put it behind us and carried on as if that one night had never happened. And we did the right thing.” He shrugged. “Because it worked. We're still friends.”

And she still looks like Kate Moss, Lottie wanted to shout at him. It was no good; this was all way too romantic for her liking. Liana had arrived for an indefinite period and was sharing Fox Cottage with Tyler which, let's face it, had only one bedroom.

Moreover, eight months on from the loss of her fiancé, Liana wasn't looking exactly prostrate with grief.

* * *

Jojo was down by the lake taking photographs of the swans when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Don't mind me,” said Freddie as she turned around. “Snap away.”

Jojo liked Freddie. “It's for my school geography project. I've got to map their path of migration from the Russian Arctic tundra to here. Dad lent me his digital camera. It's great. You can take as many pictures as you want and you never run out of film.”

Her bag of bread crusts lay on the ground next to her feet. The swans, eyeing the bag greedily, swam back and forth like celebs impatient to be snapped by the paparazzi.

“Why don't I take a photo of you feeding them?” said Freddie.

Jojo reached for the camera when he'd finished. “OK, my turn now. You sit on that rock and I'll get a picture of you with the lake in the background. No, sit on the rock,” she repeated as Freddie took a couple of steps in the wrong direction and gazed blankly past her. “OK, if you'd rather stay standing I'll—oh!”

Without uttering a sound Freddie had slumped to the ground. Jojo let out a whimper of fear and raced over to him. His eyes were half open, his lips were gray, and his breathing labored. Terrified he was about to die, Jojo dropped to her knees and shouted, “Help!” before grabbing handfuls of tweed jacket and hauling Freddie onto his side into the recovery position.

There was no one else around and she didn't have her phone on her. “Mr. Masterson,” Jojo croaked, cradling his head and praying she wouldn't have to try mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. “Can you hear me? Oh no…please, somebody
help…
”

A dribble of saliva slid from the corner of Freddie's mouth. He was making robotic chewing movements now. Her heart pounding, Jojo shooed away the swans who had waddled out of the water and were clamoring for attention, peering down at Freddie and wondering when the hell they were going to get fed. Oh God, should she stay with him or run and get help? What if he died while she was gone? What if he died because she hadn't?

Never had the sound of running footsteps been more welcome. From being gripped with panic, Jojo felt weak with relief when she saw that a grown-up had come to take charge of the situation. Tyler Klein, wearing jeans and with his blue shirt flapping open to reveal his chest, skidded to a halt at her side and said, “I heard you shouting for help. What happened here?”

“He just…went a bit funny,” stammered Jojo. “Then he fell over. I put him on his side and he was making funny noises with his mouth. And his breathing was kind of shallow…”

“Good girl, well done.” Tyler was taking Freddie's pulse, checking that his airway was clear. “Looks like he's starting to come around now.”

Oh, thank God.
“Shall I go phone for an ambulance?”

“Hang on, I've got my cell phone in my pocket.”

“Don't call the ambulance,” Freddie mumbled, rolling onto his back and opening his eyes. Focusing with difficulty on Tyler, he said weakly, “It's OK, it's happened before. No need to go to the hospital. I'll be fine now.”

“Well, we're not going to leave you here,” Tyler retorted. “You can't just crash out and expect us to carry on as if nothing's happened.”

“Help me up then. I suppose I'd better come clean.” Ruefully Freddie said, “It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Then he turned to Jojo. “Sorry about that, sweetheart. I must have frightened the life out of you. Is your camera OK?”

“It's fine.” Jojo smiled and realized she'd been trembling. “I'm so glad you're all right. I thought you were going to die.”

Freddie patted her arm, then turned back to Tyler. “You could give me a hand if you like, help me back to the house.”

* * *

Lottie was in the office on Monday morning, opening the mail, when Tyler came in.

Without preamble he said, “I know about Freddie's illness.”

“Oh yes?” Lottie carried on slitting open envelopes in order of interest, dealing with the most boring ones first. If Tyler was bluffing, she wasn't going to be the one to give the game away.

Game. If only it was that.

“He collapsed down by the lake yesterday afternoon. I took him back to the house afterward. He told me about the brain tumor.”

“Oh.” Lottie looked up, a lump forming in her throat. Somehow the fact that Freddie had told someone else made it all the more real.

“And how long the doctors are giving him.” Tyler shook his head. “He should be having treatment. I know why he's chosen not to, and I can kind of understand his way of thinking, but it's hard to accept that this is really what he wants to do.”

“I know. But Freddie's made up his mind and you have to respect that. What kind of a collapse?” Lottie said worriedly.

“Some kind of minor epileptic attack. It was the third one apparently. He's going to take some pills prescribed by his doctor to try to stop it from happening again.” After a pause Tyler went on, “So now I know why he told me I could buy Hestacombe House after Christmas. You can imagine how that made me feel.”

“Out with the old, in with the new.” Lottie shrugged and opened the next letter. “If Liana's still around I'm sure she'll be pleased. At least then the two of you won't be so cramped.”

“Thanks for that.” The look Tyler gave her indicated that he wasn't fooled by her flippancy for a second. “But I'm worried about Freddie being on his own. What if he has more blackouts? How's he going to manage if anything else goes wrong?”

“We're sorting that out. Freddie knows what he wants to happen. It's under control,” said Lottie, her gaze skimming over the address at the top of the letter she'd just unfolded. “In fact…”

“What is it?” Tyler looked concerned as she scanned the contents of the letter. “What's wrong?”

Upset on Freddie's behalf, Lottie clumsily pushed back the swivel chair and rose to her feet.

“Sorry, looks like everything isn't under control after all. If it's OK with you I'll go over and see Freddie now. There's something he needs to know.”