'OK,' Deedee blurted out, 'you're not the only one it didn't happen to.'
The redhead clapped a hand to her mouth and let out a shriek of disbelief. 'WHAT? Are you serious? I was just going to say that!'
Yesssss.
Bingo. Exhaling slowly, Tilly sent up a prayer of thanks for the tongue-loosening properties of Moet.
Deedee and the redhead stared at each other.
'You too?'
'Me too! I thought I was the only one! I felt like a complete
troll
…' Starting to laugh incredulously, the redhead exclaimed, 'But I couldn't admit it, could I? So I just pretended it had happened…'
'And everyone else has always said he's spectacular in bed, so I said it too.' Deedee shook her head.
'Which means he's less likely to call you a liar,' Tilly pointed out.
'Hang on a second.' Bemused, Erin surveyed them. 'Are you sure you're all talking about the same person here?'
'Of course we are. Jack Lucas.' Deedee's eyes were like saucers. 'Oh my God, this is unbelievable. There's three of us here and we've all had the same thing happen!'
'There's four. Not you,' Tilly added as Erin looked astonished. 'Amy. She didn't sleep with him either.'
'Do you know what? I feel
soooo
much better,' squealed the redhead as the door opened and someone else came into the loos. 'Kirsten! Listen to this! You know we've all had sex with Jack? Well, we were lying! None of us have!'
From the look in Kirsten's heavily mascaraed blue eyes, they knew at once. Guilt mingled with relief as she said, 'Oh, thank God. I thought there was something horribly wrong with me.'
Then they were all gabbling away at once. Shrieks of laughter bounced off the tiled walls. Erin looked at Tilly and whispered, 'How did you know?'
'I didn't, not for sure. But I knew Amy hadn't slept with him.' In the mirror above the sink, Tilly saw that her cheeks were flushed. 'Then we heard those girls talking about how intimidated they'd been by Stella, and how they'd lied to her about their hairdresser and their granny, and I suddenly thought
what if
…?'
'And you were right. God.' Erin thought it over then said puzzledly, 'Does this mean Jack's… gay?'
She'd said it quietly but not quietly enough. Kirsten swung round and squealed, 'That's it! Of course he's gay! That explains
everything
.'
Deedee was triumphant. 'Ha, no wonder he gets on so well with Max Dineen.'
Eek, this was getting out of hand. Tilly could only imagine Jack's reaction when he heard who had unwittingly outed him. She said hastily, 'He's not gay. He definitely slept with a friend of mine.' Better not say the friend was Kaye, whose track record when it came to telling hetero from homo wasn't exactly stellar.
But the problem that had been niggling at her for months had been solved at last. Thanks to women's insecurities and their deter mination to keep up with the Joneses, Jack had acquired a reputa tion as a legendary seducer and he had done nothing to disabuse the general public of this notion.
Well, why would he? The rumors they'd been spreading about his bedroom skills were great.
'I'm back.' Kaye approached Max at the bar. 'I've dropped Lou at the house and fed her. I said you'd be home in an hour or two.'
'Fine. And where are you off to?' Max raised an eyebrow, noting the change of clothes, the perfume, the redone makeup.
'Parker's on his way over in a taxi. He's picking me up and we're going to have dinner at the Hinton Grange.'
'Maybe I should come along. Just to be on the safe side.'
'Max, there's no need. The Hinton Grange
is
safe.'
He considered this. 'OK, but stay on your guard. If you're worried about anything, call me. Or yell for help. And whatever you do, don't let him book a room.'
Kaye nodded obediently. 'Don't worry, I won't.'
'Good.' Max knocked back his brandy.
'OK if I book one myself?' Ha, the look on his face. 'Joke,' said Kaye.
'No joking matter. "Hollywood Actress Slaughtered by Stalker." How about that for an epitaph?'
'You're right. I'll be sensible. No room-booking, no risk-taking. But I'm telling you,' said Kaye, 'he's not like that. He's a nice man.'
'Who
bid
for you.' Max's steel-framed spectacles glinted in the light from above the bar. 'I'm just saying, it's not the normal way to go about starting a relationship.'
'Sshh. He's here. Right, we're off.'
'Hey there.' Parker greeted Max from the doorway as Kaye hurried over to greet him.
'Have a good time,' said Max. He nodded at her. 'Straight home afterwards.'
She rolled her eyes. 'Yes,
Dad
.'
In the taxi, Parker leaned forward and addressed the driver. 'Right, we're going to the Hinton Grange, it's—'
'Straight down to the end of this street,' Kaye interrupted, 'then turn left.'
The taxi driver obeyed. Having turned left, he set off along the road.
'This is fine,' said Kaye. 'Just pull up here by the post box.'
Parker looked at her. 'This is your cottage, isn't it? Have you forgotten something?'
God, he was lovely. So lovely that she wasn't even nervous, and that was a first. 'No. I've decided something.'
'Like what?'
'I've decided I'm not hungry. I don't want to go to the Hinton Grange.'
His face fell. 'You don't?'
She leaned towards him, touched his cheek, 'Oh, don't look like that. I'm not abandoning you. I don't want you to go to the Hinton Grange either.'
The taxi drove off and Kaye led Parker by the hand into her tiny cottage. First she pointed out the painting he'd bought her, hanging on the wall in the living room. Then she took him upstairs.
'Are you sure about this?' He searched her face as she stood in front of him.
'You know what?' Kaye punctuated her words with kisses. 'I've never been more sure of anything in my life.'
Afterwards she lay back against the pillows gazing up at the ceiling. A tear slid out of her eye down to her ear.
'Oh my God. You're crying.'
'Sorry.'
'Was I that awful?'
She half smiled, because only a man who knew for sure he wasn't awful would ever ask a question like that. 'I think I've just made the biggest mistake of my life.'
Parker gently wiped her other eye. 'Hey, shh. How can what we just did be a mistake?'
'Because you're only here for a few more days. Then you have to go back to the States.' Gazing at him, Kaye felt bereft already. 'And I know I shouldn't be saying this, but I can't help it.'
'You know something?' He was holding her, stroking her face. 'Can I tell you something? I love you.'
She clung to him and burst into tears. 'I love you too.'
Parker rested his forehead against hers and said dryly, 'Your ex husband isn't going to be thrilled.'
'I don't care. I can't believe this is happening to me. I'm just happy it has.' Kaye closed her eyes as he kissed her again. 'I'm so glad you bid for me. Imagine if you hadn't!'
'OK, now I'm going to tell you something else. I couldn't before,' said Parker. 'You'd have been scared to death. But now that all this has happened, I'll say it. Forty-five years ago, in New York, my father was doing a bit of Christmas shopping. He was making his way through Bloomingdales when he happened to see a girl in a red coat. She was chatting and laughing with the staff in the hat department as she tried on hats in front of the mirror. And there and then, my father knew this was the girl he wanted to marry. It was love at first sight.'
'Oh my God, I already love this story! Did he just march up to her and—'
'Sshh, no, he was still wondering how to make his approach when the girl turned and left. So of course he followed her, all the way out of the store on to Lexington Avenue, but it was really busy out on the streets, and the crowds meant he lost sight of her. She'd gone, vanished into thin air. My father couldn't believe it. This was his future wife and he'd found and lost her again in the space of five minutes.'
Kaye couldn't bear it. She'd thought it was going to be a story with a happy ending and instead it was turning into one of lost op portunities and regret. 'So he never saw her again? That's—'
'Will you stop interrupting and let me tell you the rest?' Amused by her impatience, Parker said, 'My father did the only thing he could do and went back to the millinery department. The girl had been chatting away to the women who worked there; he figured if she was a regular customer, she might have an account with the store and they could maybe be persuaded to tell him her name. So he asked them and found out that she wasn't a regular customer. She didn't have an account either.' He paused. 'But she did work at Bloomingdales, upstairs in the ladies' fashion department.'
'Oh!' Kaye clutched her chest with relief. 'I
do
love this story after all!'
'That day was her afternoon off. Well, my father didn't sleep that night. He went back the next morning and trawled through the fashion department until he found her. Then it got a bit complicated because she thought he was wanting to buy a dress for his girlfriend, but in the end, he came clean and told her why he was there. Leaving out the love-at-first-sight bit, of course. But he asked her to meet him for a coffee after work, and she liked the look of him so she accepted. Her name was Nancy, he discovered. She lived with her family in Brooklyn and she was twenty-one years old.'
Now Kaye understood why he was telling her this. 'Nancy's your mother.'
'She is. They're still together, still ridiculously happy all these years later. But my father always told me the same thing would happen to me one day, that I'd see a girl and that would be it. Love at first sight.' He took a deep breath. 'And guess what? He was right. It did happen. I saw this beautiful woman and knew she was everything I'd ever wanted.'
Tears were threatening again. But they were happy tears. Just to be on the safe side, Kaye said hopefully, 'Was it me?'
'Yes it was. Except you weren't standing there in front of me when it happened. You were on TV. Which was inconvenient to say the least.' Parker's tone was dry. 'Love at first sight in the real world is wonderfully romantic. But when it's happened through a TV screen, it makes you a stalker.'
'Michael Caine did it. He saw Shakira on TV and tracked her down, and they've been married forever.'
'Well, that could be because he was Michael Caine. When you're a world-famous actor you can get away with all sorts. It's not quite the same when you're an unknown New York architect.' Smiling, Parker said, 'Anyway, can I just say that meeting you in person hasn't been a letdown. If I thought I loved you before, I know I
really
love you now.'
Was this one of the very best moments of her life? Absolutely. 'And if I had a choice between you and Michael Caine, I'd choose you. In fact,' said Kaye, 'if I had a choice between you and
anyone
else, it'd still be you.' She wriggled closer and kissed him on the nose. 'And the story about your parents is wonderful. But I still don't know what's going to happen to us.' Frustratedly, she said, 'Bloody sodding Atlantic ocean.'
Parker held her and stroked her hair. 'Hey, we'll work something out. Don't think about it now.'
Chapter 53
'I'M SORRY, I JUST feel lousy. This is no fun for you, is it?' Having coughed and sneezed her way through the last hour in the Fox, Erin shook her head apologetically and said, 'Should we just call it a night?'
Tilly felt sorry for both Erin and herself. After all the stress of the past few weeks, Erin had succumbed to a virus and would clearly prefer to be at home in bed. Which wasn't her fault, but it was still disappointing when you'd been looking forward to a girly evening out together on your Friday night off. Lou was spending the weekend at Nesh's house to help Nesh celebrate her fourteenth birthday. Max was at home working on a complex proposal for a hotel refurb. When she'd left the house, she'd told him to expect her back around midnight.
Well, it was going to be more like nine o'clock. Talk about rock and roll.
In fact, it was nine thirty by the time she arrived back at Beech House after first walking Erin back home then queuing up at the takeaway for fries and curry sauce. Plus, an extra portion of fries for Max and Betty to share, because if she didn't they'd pinch half of hers and that drove her insane.
There were bats flitting and darting around the house at warp speed. Never able to convince herself that they were harmless and smart enough not to get themselves tangled up in her hair, Tilly leapt out of the car and made a dash across the gravel. Clutching the bags of fries to her chest, she unlocked the front door and—
oof.
The bicycle that had been propped against the wall clattered to the floor, nearly taking her with it. Stumbling and letting out a shriek of surprise, Tilly thought three things in quick succession:
First, what a stupid place to leave a bike.
Second, who would have cycled here at half past nine on a Saturday night?
Third…
crikey, bloody hell, surely not.