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Authors: Jill Mansell

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‘No.’

‘Ha, don’t you believe it,’ said Casey. ‘She’s been knocking back the vodka shots all night, saucy minx.’

The second paramedic raised an eyebrow and said dryly, ‘And how about you, sir?’

Casey waved an airy hand. ‘Nothing at all, officer. Completely teetotal, me. Never touch a drop.’

Chapter 43

‘How can I put this?’ said Ash. ‘You’ve looked better.’

‘Thanks.’ Cleo would have retaliated, but she knew it was true. Plus, she needed a lift home from the hospital.

‘So what’s happening with the other chap? Going to sue the pants off him?’

Hmm, that was a tricky question. She’d already been visited by Casey Kruger’s manager, his agent, and his lawyers. Casey, miraculously unhurt himself, was emphatically denying having caused the accident. According to his statement, a muntjac deer had leapt out in front of them and Cleo, panicking, had swerved off the road. If she didn’t agree with this version of events, he would be forced to accuse her of dangerous driving. The publicity for Henleaze Limos would be dreadful, the repercussions potentially horrendous.

Or they could keep the matter out of court and he would pay for the considerable damage to the car.

Just as well it hadn’t been the Bentley Continental.

‘It’s complicated.’ Grumpy Graham was currently seeking legal advice on the matter. Easing herself off the bed, Cleo said, ‘Ow,
ouch
.’

Ash shook his head. ‘You have to go one better, don’t you? Just because I hurt my back, you have to deliberately crash a limo and end up in hospital. Has anyone ever told you you’re a copycat and an attention-seeker?’

Cleo took his arm. ‘Yes, but you’re better now. So you can help me out to the car.’

‘So long as people don’t see us like this and think we’re a couple.’ Grinning, Ash said, ‘I do have my standards, you know.’

The discharge forms had been filled in and she was free to leave. Cleo knew she was lucky; battered and bruised she might be, but no serious damage had been done. The x-rays had been clear. She had cuts to her face and a vicious case of whiplash but it could have been so much worse. And the doctors had told her she only had to wear the surgical collar for a week.

A pretty nurse, pink-cheeked and sparkly-eyed, came hurrying up to them. ‘Oh, you’re just off? You’ve got another visitor!’

Grumpy Graham? Casey Kruger? More legal people? Turning stiffly to survey the double doors at the entrance to the ward, Cleo’s heart did the rabbity, skippety thing it quite often did, nowadays, when she saw Johnny LaVenture.

‘Why’s she blushing?’ Under his breath Ash murmured, ‘Did he just give her one in the linen cupboard?’

He liked Johnny well enough as a person, but his effect on other women—OK,
on Fia
—was something Ash found hard to forgive.

‘Hey.’ Johnny smiled slightly when they reached him. ‘So they’re kicking you out.’

Nodding hurt. And thanks to the high soft collar that probably gave her an unattractive double chin. Thinking that if Ash hadn’t had a proprietary arm around her, Johnny might have greeted her with a kiss, Cleo said, ‘I’m fine. Thanks for, you know, last night.’

‘No problem. Glad I was able to help.’ He glanced at Ash. ‘I can give her a lift home if you like. If you’re busy…?’

Yes please, yes please!

‘It’s OK, I came here to pick her up.’ Ash’s arm around her tightened. ‘I’ll take her back.’

Johnny nodded slowly. ‘OK. I’ll see you soon then. I’m heading up to London this evening, then back to Norfolk to organize Barbara’s funeral.’

‘Well, thanks again. For everything.’ This time Cleo disentangled herself from Ash’s grasp and leaned forward to plant a kiss on Johnny’s cheek. Kissing was even more painful than nodding, but the smell of his aftershave and the warmth of his cheek made it worth it. Also, out of the corner of her eye she could see the envious expression on the face of the pretty nurse.

‘You can thank me as well if you like,’ said Ash on the way home.

‘Thank you for what?’

‘You wanted to go back with him, didn’t you? And what would have been the point of that? You’ve got a thing for Johnny LaVenture. He might even have a bit of a thing for you, seeing as he hasn’t had a chance yet to tick you off his To Do List.’ Ash could be very blunt when he wanted. ‘But let’s face it, you’re in no condition to do anything right now. Plus, you look dead rough. So leave him alone, that’s all I’m saying. If you really want to make a fool of yourself, at least wait until you’re better.’

As he drove through Winterbourne, Cleo pulled down the sun visor and studied her reflection in the tiny mirror. Hair a mess, cuts all over her face, and a giant plastic-and-foam neck brace. Ash had a point.

Watching her, he added helpfully, ‘You look as if you’ve been caught up in one of those vegetable-chopping machines.’

‘Cheers.’ You could always rely on your friends to give you a boost. To pay him back she said, ‘How’s it going with you and Fia?’

‘I tell you what.’ Ash kept his attention fixed on the road ahead. ‘You don’t ask me cruel questions. And I won’t stop the car and make you walk.’

***

Fia couldn’t believe she was having such a fantastic time. Who’d have thought a trip to the zoo could be so much fun? But it was, and it had all been her idea! When she’d invited Ash to come along with her, he’d looked stunned. But then he’d said yes and that had been the start of a truly brilliant day.

‘Where next? Gorilla Island!’ Taking his hand, she raced across the grass separating the lion enclosure from the monkey house. ‘I want to see the baby gorillas…’

‘No, no, penguins first.’ Ash pulled her in another direction. ‘They’re being fed in ten minutes. Have you ever fed a penguin?’

‘It’s not allowed.’ Fia had seen the signs. ‘The keepers have to do it.’

‘Ah, but I used to work here. Didn’t you know that?’ He shook his fair hair out of his eyes and gave her a wink. ‘Which means we can.’

And unbelievably, they had. Taking off their shoes and socks, she and Ash had paddled barefoot in the shallows, feeding raw fish to the penguins and watching them swoop and dive through the water. The crowds of zoogoers, watching enviously from behind the barriers, laughed and applauded Ash’s comic antics as he interacted with the penguins. Finally, she exclaimed, ‘You’re so different today! I love it when you’re like this!’

And Ash replied, ‘But I’ve always been like this. You’ve just never noticed before.’ Then he reached for her hand and pulled her towards the ledge where the pebbles fell away and the deep water glittered in the sunlight. ‘Come on, let’s go for a swim!’

The crowd gasped as, together, they raised their arms and launched themselves like dolphins into the air. A split second before hitting the surface of the water, Fia woke up.

Wow, that had been bizarre. She gazed at the bedroom ceiling and wondered what had prompted it. She’d watched a wildlife documentary on TV last night, but that had been about meerkats. And she’d shopped at the supermarket yesterday but hadn’t even visited the fresh fish counter…

Hang on, got it. Last night in the pub while she’d been bringing out food, Ash and Frank had been engaged in a passionate debate about the various merits of Wagon Wheels, Jaffa Cakes and, yes, P-p-p-penguins.

That was dreams for you. They were weird. God though, this one had felt so real. And it wasn’t fading away either, as dreams usually did. Every last detail was still vivid and intact.

Even thinking about Ash made her feel a bit funny. He’d been so brilliant in the dream, and there’d been this amazing connection between them, as if they’d been best friends for years. In fact,
more
than best friends…

Rolling over in bed, Fia turned off her alarm, switched on the radio, and scrolled through the channels until she came to BWR. Did Ash’s show start at seven?

‘… on your marks then for the great Spacehoppathon. On the orange spacehopper, we have Gay Pete, and on the manly dark green spacehopper…
grrrr
… we have Big Bad Bruce in his motorbike boots. OK, twice round the studio, no pushing and shoving, three two one… go!’

Gosh, it felt strange to hear his voice again so soon after they’d been feeding penguins together. But Ash sounded just as jolly and relaxed on the radio as he had at the zoo. Anyway, time to get up. Hauling herself out of bed, Fia stumbled through to the bathroom and switched on the shower. At least this would be warmer than the icy blue waters of the penguin pool.

By seven-thirty she was out of the shower and brushing her wet hair. On the radio Ash was consoling Gay Pete, who hadn’t covered himself in glory during the race.

‘Poor you, came last
and
broke the heel on your pink stiletto.’

‘Bruce cheated! I would’ve won if he hadn’t stabbed my spacehopper with his penknife.’

‘Oh now, come on, a bad hopper always blames his punctures. Just face up to it, Pete, you lost your race. Big Bad Bruce is the champion. And now I’m afraid you have to pay the price…’

By the time Fia had finished drying her hair, Rihanna was singing her latest single. When the music came to an end, Ash began chatting to Megan the traffic girl about the date she’d been out on last night with the drummer in a local band.

‘It went fine. Really well.’ Poor Megan, she was trying to be discreet; it couldn’t be easy, being interrogated when her date could be listening in.

‘I love it. This is so romantic,’ Ash exclaimed gleefully. ‘So who kissed who? OK, don’t answer that, you kissed each other. How did the date come about, then? You can tell us that. How does a long-haired thrash-metal drummer with tattoos and multiple piercings go about romantically asking out a pretty little Doris Day type who loves puppies and hairbands and cupcakes with pink glittery icing?’

Fia pulled open her underwear drawer and selected her favorite peacock-blue bra and knicker set.

‘Fine then.’ Megan was laughing but her tone was defiant. ‘If you must know, he didn’t ask me out. I asked him.’


What
?’ Ash affected shock. ‘You mean he might not even
like
you?’

‘Shush, I knew he liked me. I’d seen the way he looked at me. But I’d waited and waited and he
still
didn’t say anything. In the end, I knew I’d have to be the one to make the first move.’

‘So why didn’t he do it?’

‘Because he was scared I’d turn him down.’

‘Oh right. You’re telling me the long-haired tattooed thrash-metal drummer is shy.’

Megan sounded proud. ‘He is. And you know what? I like that in a man. It’s a very attractive quality. Not that you’d know anything about that.’

‘Ha, now that’s where you’re wrong,’ Ash countered. ‘I have no confidence. Deep down, I’m very shy.’

Everyone in the studio was laughing now. Megan said, ‘Yeah, yeah, you’re about as shy as Russell Brand.’

‘I can be shy. Sometimes.’ He paused, and for a moment Fia almost believed him. Then he continued smoothly, ‘So d’you fancy going out on a date with a real man now? What are you doing tomorrow night?’

They kept up the banter while Fia buttoned herself into her kitchen whites. Megan protested that her new drummer boyfriend probably wouldn’t appreciate her going out with someone else and Ash told her she was a fool to throw away her big chance, that she didn’t know what she was missing. Then female listeners started texting in, eagerly offering themselves as replacements and begging for a date with Ash.

‘Right, all you girls out there have to calm down,’ he ordered. ‘There’s only one of me to go around and, you know, I do still have my bad back. Oh God, and now we’ve had another text from Keira Knightley. Keira love, how many times do I have to say it? You’re just not my type. Leave it now; give it a rest. Move on.’

Megan said, ‘So who
do
you like?’

‘Ah, a gentleman never tells. Plus, he definitely wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell
you
. There might be someone capable of making my heart beat faster,’ Ash’s tone was playful, ‘but that’s my business, not yours.’

‘Ooh!’ Gay Pete chimed in. ‘Is it me?’

Chapter 44

From the living room sofa, Cleo listened to the sound of plates being taken out of kitchen cupboards and restacked in size order. Or according to color and pattern. Being sorted in one way or another anyway. With a lot of accompanying noise and clatter. Nor was it likely to stop in the foreseeable future.

Misery meant her sister didn’t know what to do with her hands. In order to keep herself occupied, Abbie had embarked on a spring-clean the likes of which this cottage had never known.

Which was nice in one way, but also had its annoying side. Because if Cleo had been out at work, what could be lovelier than coming home at the end of the day to a sparkling, pristine, ultra-tidy house?

Except she wasn’t out at work, was she? She was officially recuperating. And it was a lot less fun lying on the sofa when you had to listen to all the frenetic activity elsewhere in the house. As Abbie had previously been frustrated by Georgia’s ironing in their living room, so she in turn was now frustrating Cleo, who had turned the volume up three times already and
still
couldn’t hear the TV.

‘Abbie? Abbie!’

‘What?’ Her sister appeared in the doorway. ‘Do you want some scrambled eggs? Soup? Cup of tea?’

‘No thanks. Why don’t you come in here, just sit down and relax for a bit?’ Cleo gave the sofa cushion an encouraging pat. ‘Come on, it’s
MasterChef
.’

Abbie shook her head. ‘It’s OK, I’m just scrubbing your cupboards. And then I’m going through all the food. There’s a tin of treacle in there that’s six years old!’

‘I don’t like treacle.’

‘So why haven’t you thrown it out?’

Because if you threw something out, sod’s law dictated that you’d be desperately in need of it within the next fortnight. Cleo said, ‘It might come in useful one day.’

‘For throwing at someone, maybe, if you wanted to knock them out.’

Cleo hated to see her sister so unhappy. ‘Look, why don’t you let me have another talk with Tom? See if we can’t get this sorted out?’

‘I’ve tried. You’ve tried. It’s no good.’ Abbie shook her head. ‘He hates me and he’s not going to change his mind.’

In all honesty, this was true. Cleo’s last attempt had been about as effective as a mouse stamping on an elephant’s foot. Tom couldn’t forgive Abbie for what she’d already admitted having done. The fact that she hadn’t had actual sex with Des simply wasn’t good enough.

Abbie turned and disappeared back into the kitchen. Within seconds the crash-bang-clatter of crockery resumed. In all likelihood it would still be going strong at midnight.

Picking up her mobile—her trusty, life-saving mobile—Cleo called a number. When it was answered, she whispered, ‘
Help
.’

***

By seven-thirty, thanks to three glasses of wine, Cleo was feeling pleasantly fuzzy around the edges. A few people might still be giving her funny looks, but she no longer minded. Here at the Hollybush, she was among friends. And she knew she looked a fright, but that was car accidents for you; the healing phase, three days on from the crash, was in progress. She’d been lucky. The cuts and bruises on her face might be unsightly now, but at least they were only superficial. In another week they’d be gone.

If only she could say the same about her sister.

She heaved a sigh. ‘What’s going to happen? When’s it going to end?’

Ash said, ‘Are we talking about the world?’

Cleo gave him a prod. ‘I’m talking about Abbie. My sitting tenant. Except she never does sit, she just keeps on cleaning. And having niggly little goes at me because I haven’t polished the tops of the wardrobes or dusted the back of the TV in the last month.’

‘When she’s finished your place, send her round to do mine.’

‘She can move in with you if you like.’ Cleo sank her head back against her chair. ‘Oh God, I’m horrible. She’s my sister and I love her to bits, but I really don’t want her living with me until I’m forty.’

‘What makes you think she’d want to live with you?’

‘Who wouldn’t? I’m irresistible and gorgeous.’ As she said it, her stomach rumbled.

Ash reached for a menu. ‘And hungry?’

‘Now you come to mention it,’ said Cleo, ‘that too.’

***

Fia put the finishing touches to Ash’s hotpot and Cleo’s chili baked potato, ready to carry them out of the kitchen. Unbelievably, last night’s dream was still vivid in her mind. Having felt compelled to listen to the rest of Ash’s show this morning, she now understood why it was so popular. In the studio he’d created a little world to which his listeners yearned to belong. Everyone joined in and the banter was a two-way process. Ash was razor-sharp, brilliantly funny, and capable of going off on the most surreal of tangents when the mood took him. He was clearly adored by his many fans.

Yet when she’d taken their food order twenty minutes ago, he’d barely glanced at her. She still felt, in his presence, as if she’d inadvertently committed some hideous faux pas. Having intended to tell him about her dream, her nerve had failed her.

But this was ridiculous. Snipping flat-leaf parsley and sprinkling it over the hotpot, Fia loaded the plates onto a tray. If she’d done something to upset Ash, it was up to him to tell her what it was. He couldn’t expect her to guess.

‘There you go,’ she said cheerfully as she put the plates down in front of them. ‘One hotpot, one baked potato.’

Ash’s jaw tightened. ‘Thanks.’

‘Yum!’ Unwrapping her napkin, Cleo said, ‘This is
just
what I need!’

OK, ignore the fact that Ash hadn’t even bothered to look up. Fia said, ‘I had the weirdest dream last night. And guess what? You were in it!’

‘Me? Oh no, was I naked again?’ Cleo pulled a face. ‘I’m always dreaming that I’m out somewhere and I’ve forgotten to put any clothes on.’

‘Not you. Ash.’

‘You dreamt about Ash? Ha, was he naked?’

‘No. We were at the zoo, feeding the penguins.’

‘Oh wow, that sounds
romantic
.’

When she’d mentioned his presence in her dream, Ash’s shoulders had visibly stiffened. Now he shot Cleo a look of horror mingled with revulsion. Hurriedly Fia said, ‘Oh God no, it wasn’t romantic at all! That’s the last thing it was. He was trying to make me dive into the freezing water with him… and there was this awful smell of raw fish and all these seals lolloping around… yeurgh, it was
gross
.’

‘Sounds it.’ Ash dug his fork through the layer of crispy potato slices on his hotpot; featuring in other people’s dreams clearly wasn’t something he enjoyed.

Embarrassed by the snub, Fia said, ‘Yes, well, I didn’t dream about you on purpose. If I had a choice I’d have preferred David Tennant.’

Ash looked as if he wished she’d leave them in peace. Evenly he said, ‘Me too.’

‘We’d all prefer David Tennant!’ Cleo chipped in to cover the awkward silence.

See? She’d done it again. What
was
Ash’s problem with her? It was on the tip of Fia’s tongue to demand an answer, but the pub was busy and causing a scene would be awful. Instead, she flushed and said evenly, ‘Enjoy your meal,’ before turning and heading back into the kitchen.

When she’d gone, Cleo said, ‘You’re such a div.’

‘Shut up.’

‘You went all weird again.’

‘Look,
I know
, OK?’

‘Why don’t you just let me have a quiet word with—’

‘Don’t even think it. No way.’ Vehemently Ash shook his head. ‘If you do, you’ll die a horrible death.’

‘But—’

‘You said her dream sounded romantic and she was appalled. I saw the look on her face. She couldn’t have been more disgusted. Last week she saw me being massaged by Georgia and this week she dreamt about me swimming with a load of fat blubbery seals. So just leave it, OK?’

‘OK. Could I just—?’

His voice rose. ‘No no
no
.’

‘Just—’

‘Cleo,
NO
.’

‘Just try a bit of your hotpot,’ Cleo blurted out, ‘to see what it’s like.’

Ash sighed. ‘Go on then. You’re a nightmare.’

‘Ooh, can I try some too?’ Georgia had just come in. Bounding up to them, she snatched the fork from his hand and helped herself to a mouthful. ‘Mmm, that’s good. How are you, anyway?’

‘Looking forward to the rest of my hotpot,’ said Ash.

‘How’s your back?’

‘Better.’

‘See? That’s all thanks to me! Didn’t I tell you I was brilliant?’ She waggled her hands at him. ‘There’s magic in these fingers. If you want me to give you another go with them, just say the word.’

Cleo looked hopefully at Tom, who had come in with Georgia. Maybe they could have a chat. In response he shook his head and said, ‘I don’t want to talk about Abbie. We’ve just come out for a quiet drink.’

‘Not too quiet,’ Georgia retorted. ‘I’m not going to sit in a corner and be boring.’

Ash said, ‘That would be too much to hope for.’

‘You love me really.’ Georgia’s eyes danced. ‘That was a wicked show you did this morning. I’m telling all my clients to listen to you.’

Cleo watched her with mixed feelings. Georgia was a sweet girl and great fun in lots of ways, but her arrival in their lives had caused all kinds of havoc. She still maintained she wasn’t the one who had told Tom about Abbie’s indiscretion with Des, but also insisted that he had deserved to learn the truth.

‘Look, we’ll leave you to eat your food. Join us afterwards if you fancy a game of doubles.’ Indicating the pool table, Georgia said playfully, ‘But only if you’re brave enough to take us on.’

‘Maybe later,’ said Ash. ‘If you promise not to cry like a baby when we whup your sorry ass.’

Georgia and Tom headed over to the pool table. Too busy watching them to pay attention to the food on her fork, Cleo dripped mushroom sauce down her front. ‘Oh God, why does it always have to happen to me?’

Ash raised his eyebrows. ‘And you were so flawless up until that moment.’

Cleo knew she wasn’t looking great, what with the cuts all over her face, her super-attractive neck brace, and her hair in need of a wash because Abbie’s frenzy of cleaning had used up all the hot water in the tank. Oh well, never mind. As she rubbed at the stain on her top, she stuck her tongue out at Ash. ‘Lucky I’m only here with you.’

Twenty minutes later, the door swung open and Welsh Mac came in. Hoisting himself onto a stool at the bar, he said to Deborah, ‘Pint of bitter, love. Johnny’s back, just seen him. He’s on his way over.’

Johnny was back? On his way over?
Cleo sat up straight, simultaneously thrilled and mortified. This was something else that always seemed to happen to her.

Watching her with just a touch of schadenfreude, Ash murmured, ‘Bet you wish you’d bothered to wash your hair now.’

Some people just deserved to be kicked.

Under cover of the table, Cleo unzipped her handbag and furtively felt around to see if there was anything in there that might cover the marks on her face. Damn, no concealer, but she had a mini powder compact in there that would be better than nothing.

And yes, of course she wished she’d bothered to boil the kettle and shampoo her hair the hard way over the bathroom sink, but what would that have done to her neck?

‘I’m just going to the loo for a second.’

‘To try and tart yourself up?’ Pretending to feel in his jacket pockets, Ash said innocently, ‘Want to borrow my lipstick?’

‘You’re hilarious.’

‘Damn, haven’t got it with me. How about a brown paper bag to put over your head?’

Cleo aimed another kick at his legs beneath the table. ‘How about I tell Fia you
luuurve
her, you want to
kiss
her, you want to
marry
her?’

Sorrowfully Ash shook his head. ‘See, you had the chance to rush off and try to make yourself a bit less scary. But you didn’t. And now it’s too late, he’s here.’

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