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Authors: Trisha Ashley

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‘Nor me, but they never managed to part Ben and Josie.’

‘But you said they weren’t quite so inseparable the last year or two?’

‘No…it was after Ben won that big art prize—Turner, was it?—the rot started to set in, I reckon. He suddenly got to like the bright lights and the things money can buy. But then, he’d always been a bit like that.’

‘It’s strange they never married. Josie seems, from what Libby keeps telling me, to be a very marrying kind of girl.’

What the hell was a ‘marrying kind of girl’? And was it good or bad, I wondered.

‘They were as good as married,’ Harry continued, generously spilling my store of secrets, ‘but “as good as” wasn’t really enough for Josie’s granny, though she came to accept it in the end. Josie would have had him like a shot, I reckon, if he’d asked her, but it was him who seemed to be against the very idea and if she questioned that, she was questioning how much he loved her.’

‘Hmm…’ Noah said thoughtfully.

‘Then it turned out he’d been stringing her along all this time. His parents had threatened to cut his allowance off if he married her. That was the only reason for his stubbornness.’

I heard Harry heave a deep, heart-felt sigh. ‘She loved and trusted him all these years and look where it got her. She’s that soft-hearted too, for all she tries to pretend she isn’t—and I won’t stand by and see her hurt again,’ he said, a note of warning in his voice.

Oh God! I hoped Harry, too, wasn’t starting to think Noah had any serious intentions towards me…or even any intentions at all!

‘Rob Rafferty—’ began Noah.

‘Forget him, lad! She told me herself that though she likes him, he’d never be more than a friend, and she’s nothing if not truthful.’

‘Blunt, even,’ Noah agreed. ‘Yes, that’s what I thought, really.’ The henhouse door slammed. ‘That’s that done, anyway.’

‘Thanks, Noah. It’ll save Josie a job and she hates cleaning out the hens. She’ll be back soon, I shouldn’t wonder.’

I dodged back indoors quickly and a couple of minutes later made a noisier exit, calling: ‘Harry? Kettle’s on!’ and then acting all surprised when Noah appeared too.

What I’d overheard had given me a lot to think about, though. I’d no idea that Harry knew so much about me! But then, Granny had probably discussed me with him, and he could see for himself how things were.

At least he’d put Noah well and truly straight about Rob, though I knew that shouldn’t really matter to me. It was just a pity he didn’t think to grill him about his love life, that was all!

In late April Mary called to tell me that Olivia had been rushed into hospital and had her baby, though I don’t know why she thought I would want to know.

‘It was due two weeks after mine, but it arrived before she could have the elective Caesarean she’d booked,’ she said, almost indignant that Olivia had pipped her to the post. ‘She rang me from the hospital—some swish private one. No National Health for her!’

‘I would have thought Ben would be in charge of telling everyone about the baby.’

‘Yes, but that’s just the thing—Ben’s been spending more and more time away from her. Once they were married she got so possessive, it was as if she’d bought him. She wanted him to stay around all the time, to know what he was doing and where he was. He couldn’t take it. He said some very cruel things to her as well, about looking ugly and unattractive when she was hugely pregnant.’

‘That was pretty blunt,’ I agreed. ‘But he’s very self-centred and goes his own way. So he wasn’t there when she suddenly went into labour?’

‘No, so she thought he might be with us, only he wasn’t. He’s renting a room—or I suppose that should be a cabin—on a houseboat, and Russell went and checked that out first. He told
us not to tell Olivia about it, so we haven’t, because he’s one of our oldest friends. But then, so are you. I think our loyalties have been a bit muddled…’

‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘So was he there?’

‘No, but then Russell thought he might be with those friends of yours up in Neatslake—what are they called? Old hippie couple?’

‘Stella and Mark. I know he does stay with them sometimes.’

‘Yes, and that’s where he was. He’s renting a room and studio space in one of the outbuildings from them, so he can divide his time between Neatslake and London, like he used to.’

‘I was sure I’d seen him about more lately, but I thought I was imagining it. And there was that day when I thought someone…But never mind that,’ I added.

‘Olivia keeps asking me if he’s seeing you. Things seem to have turned on their head, don’t they?’

‘Yes, I suppose they have. It’s a sort of role reversal that his wife is now worrying about me. But she needn’t; I wouldn’t take him back now if he came gift-wrapped in five-pound notes.
Especially
if he came gift-wrapped in five-pound notes. So he does know about the baby now?’ I added, ‘And you didn’t say whether it’s a boy or a girl—or whether it’s all right.’

It wasn’t the poor little infant’s fault that it had been born, after all, and it had been two or three weeks early.

‘It’s a boy and it was quite big. Olivia really let herself go and ate for quads. She’s going to regret it when she tries to get her figure back. Ben’s parents rushed to the hospital and they’re hopping mad with Ben, though I don’t suppose that’s much consolation to Olivia.’

‘I expect he’s in the middle of painting something,’ I suggested. ‘He’ll
intend
to go down, but just won’t get round to it until he’s good and ready.’

‘He might be, but he’s not painting much lately and it’s not very good when he does—his last exhibition sold hardly any
—so I shouldn’t think it’s that. I don’t know how you ever put up with him!’

‘Neither do I, looking back, but when you love someone and you’ve been together for years, you don’t really think about it, do you? You’ve just sort of grown used to each other’s little ways. His work might have gone off latterly, but he’s a genius artist really, so I didn’t mind looking after him—and we did share a love of good, home-grown food and a simple lifestyle, until he started to veer off the rails.’

‘You looked after
all
of us when we were students at the RCA,’ Mary said. ‘I don’t think I appreciated that enough at the time.’ She sighed. ‘If I don’t start contractions naturally by Monday I’ve got to go in and be induced. I’m the one who should have given birth by now!’

‘Can’t you jump up and down, or eat curry or something?’

‘That kind of thing doesn’t really work,’ she said gloomily. ‘It has been nice talking to you again, Josie. You are very forgiving, considering I was such a disloyal cow—and then I even accused you of having something going with Russell!’

‘Don’t worry, at least you know the truth now and we can be friends again. I only have time for my mad, passionate affairs with Noah Sephton and Rob Rafferty. I simply can’t fit in any more celebrity lovers, even though they are lining up at the door.’

‘Oh, don’t!’ Mary begged me with a hysterical giggle—and then suddenly yelped. ‘Oh!’

‘What?’ I asked anxiously.

‘My back’s been aching all day and…Josie, I think my waters have broken! Oh, thank you,
thank you
!’ she exclaimed and rang off, though not before I heard her yell, ‘Russell! Get your ass down here!’ at the top of her lungs.

I put the phone down gently. I’d been all right while I was talking to Mary, but now the reality of Olivia having Ben’s baby really hit me—the unfairness of it all—and I suddenly sank down onto the sofa and sobbed my heart out.

I didn’t know that Noah had come in through the French doors until he sat down next to me and put a comforting arm around my shoulders.

I turned to him and had my cry-out in his arms, then eventually sat up and gave him a watery smile. ‘Sorry It’s just that Olivia has had her baby and…I don’t know why I’m so upset, because I’m over it all, really. It’s just—feeling the baby should have been mine and knowing I’ll never have that experience.’

‘That’s perfectly understandable, Josie,’ he said gravely, handing me a large, soft white handkerchief.

‘Thanks for being so kind, Noah. I know,’ I added brightly, mopping my damp face. ‘Let’s have a glass of something!’

‘As long as it isn’t peapod,’ he agreed cautiously, but accepted a glass of Violet’s special rhubarb, before settling back onto the sofa next to me, with his long legs elegantly crossed.

I found he had turned his head and was surveying me in a puzzled sort of way.

‘You know, what baffles me is why you’re so devastated at not being able to have children yourself, yet I’ve several times heard you trying to persuade Libby not to rush into pregnancy, as though you’re trying to put her off. It seems so unlike you to be selfish about it, so it’s not that…so why?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I protested. ‘Of course I would
love
Libby to have a baby—it’s just that she’s so busy right now that it doesn’t seem sensible until the business takes off.’

‘Perhaps that’s so,’ he agreed, ‘but I still think you’re evading the issue. What is it really, Josie?’ he asked softly, and I found the tears rushing to my eyes again. I longed to tell him the truth, but how could I? Sharing the secret would only burden him with the knowledge too.

‘Don’t start crying again,’ he said, putting his arms around me.

‘I’m not!’ I said, trying to blink back the tears.

‘Then it’s raining in here,’ he said, and kissed me lightly on the lips—and I kissed him right back, though far from lightly.

The feel of his warm mouth on mine and his strong arms tightening around me was terribly familiar and comforting, somehow…

It was just starting to look as though our friendship might be about to suffer a sea change, when he pushed me away and sprang to his feet.

‘This is
so
not a good idea, is it?’ he said, looking a bit pale. ‘I must remember to refuse your wine in future, or I’ll be taking advantage of you again—and Libby told me you weren’t that sort of girl.’

Everyone
seems to have been telling him what kind of girl I was! But I wasn’t a girl—I was a woman—one who just wanted to lose herself in his kiss again for another dose of that magic medicine…

Yes, it was Return of the Slut.

Shoving her firmly back into her Pandora’s box, I said lightly, ‘Oh, I know you were just being nice to me because I was upset, Noah, nothing more. And Violet’s rhubarb wine is pretty innocuous!’

He looked relieved, but it wasn’t flattering that he’d backed off at the first sign that I felt more for him than friendship, even if it was just temporary lust. It’s just like I told Libby—he’s not interested in me that way, despite the flirting, and he’d run a mile if he thought I was
really
falling for him.

Chapter Thirty-one
May Day

I am so enjoying fresh salads again, but I will know May is really here when I can find enough pignuts to make them really tasty. They aren’t really nuts, but a small root tuber that grows wild. They taste a bit like pine kernels and are a little-known seasonal delicacy.

There has been lots of digging to be done, though the Photographer has been a great help. The hens are let out occasionally to feast on any exposed insects and, as always, Aggie stands affectionately close to whoever is wielding the spade, making me fear she will get just that bit too close one day!

‘Cakes and Ale’

Russell called me early next morning, the first time I had spoken to him since he turned up, unannounced and unwanted, at my cottage before Christmas.

He sounded embarrassed, as well he might, but also angry—though if anyone should be bearing a grudge about the actions of that night, it was me. And I wasn’t; I just wanted to forget about it, especially now Mary and I were speaking to each other again.

‘Mary insisted I rang you, to say she’s had a little boy. Nine pounds, and they’re both doing well,’ he said stiffly.

‘That’s wonderful! Give her my congratulations, won’t you? What are you going to call him?’

‘Pablo.’

‘Ah, yes, I’d forgotten you were such a huge Picasso fan.’ Pablo isn’t a name that goes particularly well with Brown…but still, there are lots of odd name combinations about these days, so that probably won’t matter.

‘They’re going to let her bring the baby home tomorrow, so you might be able to speak to her yourself then. Her mother’s coming to stay,’ he added. He sounded profoundly gloomy, considering he’d just become a father.

‘I’ll let her settle in with the baby first,’ I said. ‘Tell her I’ll ring in a couple of days.’

‘I’ll
have
to go,’ he said, as if I was physically hanging on to him with both hands. ‘I’ve got a whole list of people to ring.’

‘Thanks for letting me know, Russell,’ I said, but I was talking to empty air.

Little Mr Huffy.

‘I can’t believe it’s the first of May tomorrow and already we’ve been in business for over a month,’ Libby said, as we cleared up the debris after yet another reception, ready for the Dolly Mops team to come in and clean the place. ‘Why does so much food end up on the floor? Are people so drunk they miss their mouths entirely? But then, it happens at even quite sober weddings too.’

‘So far it’s been a big success and it’s going to be even busier from now on, isn’t it?’ I agreed, picking up a half-eaten bread roll, which fortunately had landed butter side up. And butter side up was the story of Libby’s life, once she’d got herself past the dodgy start, so I hadn’t really expected Old Barn Receptions to be anything but a blazing triumph.

‘Yes…and here comes high wedding season, with blossom and church bells and romance in the air,’ she said dreamily. ‘Maybe I should have a second, summery wedding?’

‘You haven’t got time, and you’d have to squeeze your
reception in on an unpopular day of the week, like Wednesday, because those are the only ones we’ve got free,’ I pointed out.

‘It’s all right, I wasn’t really serious! Anyway, we need our occasional rest days to catch up with everything else, like having a life. It’s a pity there’s only one Saturday a week, because we could book those ten times over.’

‘Thank God there aren’t! I don’t really think you could cope with more receptions than you are doing now,’ I said, and she had to agree.

‘It’s the May Day celebrations on the Green tomorrow morning, Libby Do you remember what fun they were?’

She regarded me with astonishment. ‘Of course not, because I was never mad enough to leave my warm bed at that hour of day to watch some ditzy folk dancing round a painted stick! But feel free to catch a chill in the wet grass, provided you’re here later. Tomorrow’s reception is the biggest we’ve catered for yet.’

‘Yes, of course I’ll be here, though not terribly early. I’ll have to be up before dawn for the dancing round the maypole and I usually sell hot toddy to the people watching to make money for the donkey rescue centre. You should really come, you know. It’s great fun.’

She shuddered. ‘Maybe not.’

‘You don’t know what you’re missing!’

‘I think I have a good idea. I don’t expect Pia will fall out of bed in time for it either—assuming she
is
actually in her own bed and not over in Middlemoss tonight. Or maybe Jasper’s coming here and I’ll fall over him at breakfast instead. He’s always underfoot in the kitchen, talking recipes with Gina. She thinks he’s wonderful.’

‘You don’t mind about him and Pia, do you?’

‘Not really, he seems to be a nice boy, and the relationship’s making her change rapidly in a good, if slightly odd, way. Now she seems as fascinated by the history of food and cooking as
he is, and reading all kinds of stuff about it. You know, I used to consider her a complete featherhead, but what with this research and her being so useful in the business, I’m starting to think I never knew her at all!’

‘Oh, Pia’s very like you in some ways. I mean, once she knew what it was she wanted, she went all out to get it—or maybe that should be
who
she wanted!’

‘You married young, Libs,’ I reminded her.

‘I’d like nothing better than to see her walk down the aisle with Jasper at some point, but she’s too young. They’re both too young, and Jasper hasn’t even finished his degree yet.’

‘You’ll just have to wait and see, and not jump your guns, Libs.’

Her face lit up. ‘Here’s Tim. He must have finished washing down the Bentley. The peacocks had left footprints all over it and they must have been jumping in muddy puddles first.’

‘At least the new ducks on the lily pond won’t do that, but they
will
give you eggs,’ I said.

The only point of the peacocks seemed to be that the guests often liked them to be in the photographs. Well, apart from the bride that one of them chased, that is, and I had a horrid feeling that Noah took a picture of that.

There’d been a return of that tension between us since he’d kissed me, not all due to the brisk way he distanced himself, because it was partly me doing it too. My Inner Slut was a very slippery customer.

Anyway, he’d been in London for a few days and he wasn’t due back until tomorrow, so he would miss the May Day celebrations.

Next morning I was out on the Green waiting for dawn to break with all the other mad maypolers, including the Graces and the members of the Neatslake Folk Society.

I’d set up the usual little table on the edge of the Green in
front of the house, where I sold my cups of hot toddy from a sort of insulated bucket that I use every year. Harry, well wrapped up, was sitting on a folding chair next to it, taking the money. Mac was curled up underneath, twitching his eyebrows from time to time in an amused kind of way at the humans’ mad antics.

‘There’s Noah,’ Harry said, pointing across the Green.

‘So it is. But he wasn’t due to get back from London until tomorrow and I wouldn’t have thought this would be his kind of thing anyway. But I see he’s got his camera, so maybe that’s the explanation.’

Indeed, he now appeared to be taking pictures of the Graces, especially Pansy, who was dressed in a dirndl skirt and wool shawl, with a red and white spotted handkerchief over her head. She looked a bit like one of those Russian wooden matryoshka nesting dolls.

I spotted another unlikely figure too. ‘Good heavens! There’s Pia with Jasper! He must have insisted they come.’

I was right, for on spotting me they came straight over for a cup of hot toddy and Pia said, ‘What a god-forsaken hour of the morning, God-ma! But Jasper wanted to see the maypole dancing.’

‘Yes, they don’t do it in Sticklepond,’ Jasper agreed.

‘I didn’t realise it would be so cold.’ Pia shivered and he put his arm around her.

‘It’ll warm up soon, when the sun’s on the Green. It looks as if it will be a lovely day,’ I assured her.

‘A nice day for a white wedding, perhaps—and right on cue, there’s Rob Rafferty,’ she exclaimed. ‘But who is that girl he’s with? He’s all over her like a rash!’

I followed the direction of her gaze, my own eyes widening. ‘She’s called Anji and she’s a model.’

Pia turned and stared at me. ‘What,
Noah’s
girlfriend?’

‘Well, she was, but he says she isn’t now, and it looks like he was right.’

‘But I thought Rob was after you!’

‘Not really, not when I made it plain I only wanted to be friends.’

‘He had a pash on my mum too, at one time,’ said Jasper unexpectedly.

‘What, Rob Rafferty?’

‘Yes, but she didn’t take him seriously, thank goodness. I much prefer Nick as a stepfather!’

‘Yes, he’s much nicer,’ Pia agreed. ‘Oh, look, they seem to be leaving already. It hardly seems worth getting up if they are only staying for five minutes.’

‘From the look of them, I’d say they hadn’t been to bed yet,’ I said tartly. ‘They must have just stumbled across the May Day celebrations by accident on their way home from somewhere.’

And they were indeed on their way for, even over the music, the noisy roar of the sports car could be heard before it vanished into the distance.

‘There’s Noah too, near that oak tree,’ Pia said, waving, and he flapped a languid hand back, but didn’t move from where he was. I expect it was a good vantage point for taking snaps of the unwary, like a lion at a watering hole waiting to pounce. I wondered if he’d seen Rob and Anji, and if he had, whether he had cared…

As dawn began to warm the edges of the sky over the tall chimneys of Blessings, the dancers took their place around the pole and, as always, I felt terribly envious. I did attempt to learn how to do it once, but had to give up due to a tendency to go right instead of left, and in instead of out, tangling the whole thing irretrievably up into one huge knot.

The morris dancers shook out their handkerchiefs and formed a set nearby. Then the fiddler and an accordionist struck up—and they were off.

I
love
this bit; there’s something archaic and exciting about the music and the dawn, the intricate patterns of the dancers
and the merry jingling of the morris men’s bells…My feet were tapping along to the rhythm of the music.

When the maypolers had finished and the morris men had performed a couple more dances, everyone formed into a big ring round the pole to dance, including all the onlookers.

‘Come on,’ said Jasper, dragging a reluctant Pia off.

I took off my apron and folded it as Noah wandered across and came to a stop in front of the table, looking at me quizzically. Then he held out his hand: ‘Come on—you
know
you want to!’

I laughed, because he’s a constant surprise to me, so that, as Elizabeth Bennet once said of Mr Darcy, I could never quite make his character out. I think the feeling was mutual. ‘Yes, of course, I was about to join in. I always do; it’s the high spot of my day.’

‘I’m staying here with Mac to look after the toddy,’ Harry said. ‘You can leave your camera with me, if you like. It’ll only get in your way.’

Noah, the elegant, urbane and sophisticated, threw himself into the proceedings with abandon, whirling me wildly round until I was dizzy. He had to hold me upright at the end of the dance and I’m sure I was pink in the face and hot, though he looked cool as a cucumber and his short dark hair was no more ruffled than it usually was. He might have been a little distant since we shared a kiss the other day, but now he was smiling down at me with that old, teasing expression in his light grey eyes and I was smiling right back…until out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a tall, thickset and familiar figure skulking on the edge of the onlookers.

Noah followed the direction of my gaze. ‘What is it?’

‘Ben,’ I said.

‘Ah, yes. He does a good line in glowering, doesn’t he? Very Heathcliff. It seems to be directed at me.’

‘At
both
of us. Perhaps I’m not supposed to have fun, any
more? But even though he can’t possibly still think we’re having any kind of affair, after Mary put him straight, perhaps he still blames you for everything, in a perverse sort of way? I suppose that’s easier than blaming his own actions.’

‘Very profound, Dr Gray!’ he said.

‘I wish he would just stay away from Neatslake altogether. He should be with Olivia and the baby, not stalking me like this.’ Some of the joy seemed to have gone out of the morning and I turned and set off briskly back towards Harry.

‘Josie, wait!’ Noah said.

‘I can’t. I’ve got to pack the toddy things up,’ I tossed back over my shoulder.

‘Well, you don’t have to do a hundred-yard sprint first, do you?’ he said, following in my wake. ‘I don’t remember that being the finishing touch to any May celebrations I’ve ever been to before.’

‘That was Ben, that was,’ Harry said as we got back, ‘but Pia just went and spoke to him, and he’s gone now. I don’t know what he thinks he’s playing at, hanging around glaring at you like that. In fact, what’s he doing here at all, if he’s just become a dad, that’s what I’d like to know?’

‘I don’t think he’s taking well to marriage and fatherhood, Harry. He’s done a runner, according to Mary, and is staying up here a lot with Mark and Stella.’

I gave Mac the last biscuit from the plate and put the lid on the toddy container, which was empty apart from a few dregs and a half-drowned sprig of borage in the bottom.

‘I just told Ben he should be in London with his wife and baby,’ Pia said, arriving with Jasper in tow. The Three Graces, I noticed, were also heading in my direction, all wearing strange little rubber boots with low heels against the dampness of the grass.

‘You really shouldn’t have done,’ I told Pia.

‘Yes, but Mum said you thought he’d been hanging around watching you lately, which is creepy.’

‘He could have turned nasty, Pia,’ I said, because the old, easygoing and laid-back Ben seemed to have vanished inside this angry stranger. ‘What did he say?’

‘Mind your own business!’ she said indignantly, turning pink.

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