Rumor Has It (46 page)

    Tilly's stomach lurched. Was that where he'd gone? Would the two of them start a—

    'Oh noooo!' Beside her, Lou was gazing in dismay at her mobile. 'I don't
believe
it.'

    'What's that, a text from Cormac?' Max tried to peer at the screen but Lou whisked it away with practiced thirteen-year-old dexterity. 'Has he dumped you?'

    'Shut up, Dad. No he hasn't. It's about Mr Lewis. He's just told everyone he's leaving at the end of this term!'

    Erin said, 'Who's Mr Lewis?'

    'He teaches French and PE. Everyone really likes him.' Lou, who had been allowed the afternoon off for Kaye's leaving party, frantically scrolled through the rest of the message from Cormac. 'He's got a job at another school up in Scotland. Oh, that's such a pain, he's so cool. He broke up with his girlfriend just recently. That could be why he's decided to move away, to get over it and make a fresh start. Mum?' Lou called Kaye and Parker across. 'You'll never guess what! Mr Lewis is leaving! He's moving up to Dundee! And you fancied him, remember?' She pulled a comical face. 'Although I'm not sure you'd have been his type.'

    'Or he might not have been mine. There's such a thing as being over-sporty.' Kaye, who had never caught the LA fitness bug, entwined her fingers with Parker's. Beaming with happiness she said, 'Anyway, I've got someone else now. And this one's definitely my type.'

'RIGHT, BACK TO WORK.' Draining his coffee, Max rose to his feet and collected up the files on the table in front of him. 'I'm meeting the Petersons in Malmesbury then heading on over to Bristol. I need you to get hold of those bloody electricians and tell them we need polished chrome sockets in the Rowell Street flat, not brushed chrome. And the curtains need picking up too.' His steel-framed glasses glinted as he tilted his head to one side. 'Can I tell you some thing? You look like crap.'

    'Gosh, thanks.' Tilly forced a smile.
Tell me something I don't know.

    'And you still smell of garlic.'

    She knew that too. Brushing her teeth twice last night and three times so far this morning had been an exercise in futility; all it had done was make her gums sore and give the evil garlickyness a fresh minty edge. Which was rather like adding a fetching pink lace trim to a decontamination suit.

    'In fact,' said Max, 'just breathe on the electricians. That'll do the trick.'

    'You know how to make a girl feel good about herself.' Actually, a decontamination suit could be the answer she was looking for; if she zipped herself up inside it, she could hide both her face and her breath from the world.

    'Sorry, pet. You just look as if you haven't slept well.'

    'I didn't.' She'd spent half the night miserably tossing and turning, and the other half watching the sun come up. The fact that it had been the most beautiful June morning had only served to em phasize her own unhappiness. By seven o'clock, the earlier horizontal layers of low-lying mist had dispersed, the air was zingily clear, and the sky was a cloudless cerulean blue. Birds had been singing in the trees. Somewhere overhead, Kaye and Parker were on their way to New York and a whole new life together.

    Whereas she, Tilly, was stuck here with her increasingly hard to handle old one.

    'You and Kaye really hit it off, didn't you? We'll all miss having her around. Didn't expect you to be taking it worse than Lou though. Was she OK when you dropped her off at school?'

    'Fine. Cheery as anything.' Tilly smiled slightly at the memory of Lou casually asking to be dropped off at the school gates so that she and Cormac could walk up the tree-lined drive together. 'She's already excited about going to visit Kaye and Parker in New York.'

    'Good. OK, I'm off. Oh, hang on, nearly forgot.' Rummaging in the top left kitchen drawer, Max picked out a key. 'I was supposed to give this to Jack yesterday; it's the master for Devonshire Road. Can you drop it off at his place before you do anything else?'

    Jack's place. She really wasn't up to seeing him today. 'Can't you do it?'

    'It's on your way. I'm heading in the opposite direction. Are you
ill
?' Max surveyed her with concern.

    Tilly's shoulders sagged. Of course she wasn't ill. Feeling guilty, she shook her head. 'No.'

    'He's not at home, I tried ringing him earlier. So all you have to do is shove it through the letterbox. God only knows where he is.' Max's tone was laconic. 'His mobile's switched off too.'

    Which was more information, frankly, than Tilly needed to hear, but what else did she expect? Still, at least it meant she wouldn't have to face him. Reaching for the key, she said, 'OK, I'll drop it off.'

    Max left, taking Betty along with him to the dog-loving Petersons in Malmesbury. Tilly stuffed the Devonshire Road key into the back pocket of her cut-off jeans, slid her feet back into her silver flip-flops, and headed out to the car. Swing past Jack's house first, then over to Rowell Street in Cheltenham to give the electricians hell.

    The gates were shut and the driveway was empty. Thankful that Jack was still out, Tilly hopped out of the car and pushed open the right-hand gate. It might only be nine thirty but the sun was already hot and her white tank was sticking to her back. She reached the front door and let the key fall through the letterbox. Right, done. Electricians next.
Oh God.

    Sod's law dictated that of course it was Jack's car pulling up outside the gates. As she watched, frozen into immobility on the doorstep, he emerged from the driver's seat, opened both gates wide, then climbed back in and drove through them. Since the gap between car and gateposts was too narrow to navigate without a struggle, Tilly's only means of escape now was over the six-foot wall. And for a moment she was tempted.

    But no, she mustn't. She wasn't a burglar. Nor was she gym nastic enough to be confident of reaching the pavement with both ankles intact.

    Instead, she hovered by the front door, waiting for the Jag to move past the gateposts, thereby enabling her to squeeze through and reach the safety of her own car.

    But Jack left it where it was, effectively blocking her in. By ac cident or design? Tilly's pulse was hammering away in her throat like an ominous jungle beat.

    'Here to see me?' For the second time, he climbed out of the car. He was wearing yesterday's clothes, dark grey trousers and a blue and white striped shirt. There was stubble on his chin too. He hadn't shaved. What did that tell you?

    'I just dropped off the master key for Devonshire Road. Max forgot to give it to you yesterday.' Edging sideways in a wide arc around him, Tilly said, 'Actually, if you could move your car, I need to get over to Cheltenham.'

    'I don't bite,' said Jack.

    'I know that! I'm just in a hurry, that's all!' He was twelve feet away but even out here in the open air, she was conscious of the garlic. How far were the hideous fumes capable of wafting?

    Jack rubbed the flat of his hand over his stubbly jaw and looked down at the ground. Then he raised his gaze, fixed it on Tilly, and said, 'I've only just got home.'

    'I spotted that.' The annoying thing was, when Jack was rumpled and sleep-deprived, he still managed to look as sexy as hell.

    'Aren't you going to ask me where I've been?'

    He might as well ask if she'd like to stab herself in the eye with a fork. Tilly did her best to sound as if she couldn't care less. 'I don't know. Where were you?'
Please don't let him start rattling on about a
girl who looks like Claudia Schiffer.

    Jack stayed where he was, standing with his hands in his pockets. 'I was with Rose's mother.' He kept his tone level. 'And her father.'

    Which wasn't what she'd been expecting to hear at all. Completely wrong-footed, Tilly said,
'Oh.'

    'I drove over to Wales yesterday afternoon. I needed to see them.' Jack's gaze was unwavering. 'Because you don't trust me. You refuse to believe what I say when I tell you how I feel about you. And I suppose I can't blame you, what with my track record. But then yesterday, when you couldn't even bring yourself to speak to me, well, I realized I had to prove to you that I was serious. So I went to see Bryn and Dilys.' He paused, a muscle going in his jaw. 'And we visited Rose's grave together. Then they asked me to stay to dinner. And after dinner, I told them that I'd met this girl…'

    Tilly felt as if the ground had been whisked away, tablecloth style. Her feet were still there but she no longer knew how they were managing to hold her up.

    'And I didn't know how they'd react.' Jack shook his head. 'The last thing I wanted to do was upset them, you know? But they were amazing. Dilys said she was so happy for me, and they'd been waiting for this to happen. Bryn said they were proud of me, and that Rose would have wanted me to meet someone else.'

    Now the ground felt as if it were tilting underfoot. Tilly's head was spinning and perspiration was trickling down her spine.

    'So that was when it got a bit awkward and I had to explain to them that things weren't exactly going full steam ahead,' said Jack. 'But they were on my side. Bryn told me if I needed one, he'd write me a reference. You know, they're an incredible couple. They asked a million questions about you. We were still talking at one o'clock in the morning—that's how I ended up staying the night.' He paused, his eyes glittering in the sunlight. 'And they agree with me. They think you and Rose would have got on like a house on fire.'

    Tilly couldn't speak. She took a step backwards, into the shade of the mulberry tree. That was better, not so hot.

    'And I've just driven back from there this morning. With Bryn and Dilys's blessing.' Tilting his head fractionally in the direction of the car, Jack said, 'Not to mention half a baked gammon wrapped in foil, a dozen Welsh cakes, and a loaf of bara brith. So, is that enough to convince you I'm serious?'

    Tilly closed her eyes for a moment. She wanted to believe him, of course she did. But who was to say Jack wouldn't change his mind next week? What if he was just getting carried away because she was the box he hadn't yet ticked?

    When she opened her eyes again, Jack was approaching. Oh God… Stepping back in a panic, she bounced off the trunk of the tree.

    'Still not convinced, then.' Shaking his head, Jack said, 'Dilys did wonder if that'd be enough. Fine, we'll move on to Plan B.'

    'No!' Tilly darted sideways and covered her mouth in terror as he moved towards her. 'Please no…'

    'Oh come on, I'm not that bloody scary.' He frowned in disbelief.

    'It's not that.' Deeply ashamed, Tilly hung her head and mut tered, 'It's the garlic.'

    'What? I can't hear you. Talk properly.'

    She tried to say it out of the corner of her mouth. 'I have garlic breath.'

    'You don't.' He was in the vicinity now. Less than eighteen inches from her face. Definitely inside the danger zone. 'I can't smell anything.'

    'I do. Max told me this morning. And I had to drive Lou to school with all the windows open. I can even taste it myself.' Her skin prickled with shame. 'It's really bad.'

    Jack began to smile. 'Lucky I had dinner last night with Dilys and Bryn, then. Lamb studded with garlic. Served with Dauphinoise potatoes because she knew they were my favorite.' He took another step closer and said, 'Do I smell of it as well?'

    Despite everything, Tilly smiled too. 'No idea. Can't tell.'

    So that was it. Fumes-wise, they were immune to each other. Neat trick.

    For several seconds they stood there together under the tree, gazing into each other's eyes. Tilly waited for Jack to kiss her. Frustratingly, it didn't happen.

    Finally, she said, 'Is this Plan B?'

    'No. Plan B was going to be me asking you to marry me.'

    OK, now the ground had definitely disappeared beneath her feet. Tilly's fingers grasped the rough bark of the tree trunk.

    'Don't you think that would prove to you that I'm serious?' said Jack.

    Oh God, this had to be some kind of drug-induced hallucina tion. Had someone slipped something into yesterday's mayonnaise dip? Shakily Tilly said, 'This is crazy.'

    'No? Not good enough? Ah, you
still don't trust me, becaus
e I could say it today, then next week call it all off. Fair point.' Jack's eyes began to crinkle at the corners. 'That moves us along to Plan C.'

    'What's Plan C?' gulped Tilly as he pried her fingers off the tree trunk and clasped her left hand firmly in his right one. Expecting him to lead her into the house, she was taken by surprise when he headed out through the front gates instead. With the Jag still rakishly parked in the way, it was a tight squeeze getting past it. Jack pointed his keys at the car and zapped the locks shut. As he hauled her after him down the street, Tilly said breathlessly, 'Where are we going?'

    'Wait and see.' Jack waved at the middle-aged man pruning his roses in the garden next door. 'Morning, Ted, this is the girl I've just asked to marry me.'

    
What?

    Ted looked equally astounded. 'Really? Well, um, excellent. Well done, lad.'

    'Oh my God, oh my God,' squeaked Tilly as they made their way down the street.

    'Morning, Mrs Ellis, how are you?' Cheerily greeting an elderly lady walking her Pekingese, Jack said, 'This is Tilly, my future wife, touch wood!'