This Is Your Life (24 page)

‘Dear,’ she said to Lizzie, ‘isn’t it
such
a lovely wedding? I do love weddings’ she added wistfully. ‘Quite something isn‘t it, little Susie married. Only seems like yesterday that she got stuck up the apple tree and wouldn’t come down. Oh, dreadful business it was…had to call the fire brigade. Very odd dress though…I mean, black… Fancy!’ The eyebrows frowned comically for a moment, as she thought about what she’d said.

Then she patted Lizzie’s hand. ‘
Now, how about you and young Tom…You make a lovely couple, just like me and my Alfie.  Such a nice boy he was…Don’t you go leaving it too long dearie...’

Just as Lizzie was thinking what a sweet old lady she was, Auntie Mellons
moved closer and lowered her voice.

‘
Someone’s stolen my jewels,’ she almost whispered to her, a frown making the eyebrows even more lopsided. ‘See these earrings?’ She touched her little hands to the enormous diamonds in her ears, adding conspiratorially, ‘They’re not real you know, they’re fakes... Someone put them there. They probably thought I wouldn’t notice...But they’re plastic you know, I can tell. You have them… They’re not much good to me...’ and to Lizzie’s horror, she started taking them off.

Fortunately
Tom reappeared at that point. ‘Dance, Auntie.’ Mellons giggled slightly flirtatiously, forgetting about her ears, temporarily at least.

‘Oh, I doubt you’d keep up with me young man, but why not? And then you simply must dance with this lovely young lady.’

Turning to Lizzie, she whispered, ‘He’s such a nice boy,’ and winked at her.

And then there were the young cousins, and Susie and Rory’s London friends. Gorgeous young things, all of them, and so friendly.  The exception, Lizzie soon noticed, were the teenage girls, who were regarding her with a degree of hostility.

More of the villagers joined the party for the evening, and Lizzie could see Toby, who was a bit of a groover as it turned out, whirling an unusually glamorous Antonia around the dance floor. Even Mrs Hepplewhite made an appearance, and after a large glass of sherry took to the dance floor for a quick boogie with Mr Woodleigh. Lizzie kept well out of her way.

Shar
was having the
best
time. After all, this was her best mate, the girl she’d grown up with and shared every rite of passage with. Susie’s family felt almost like her own, she’d known them so long. And this wedding was head-to-toe fabulous, from the frocks to the flowers, with the most divine food and the most delicious men. And having someone to share it with had brought everything more sharply into focus.

She could see Rich and Tom across the marquee.  Curiosity got the better of her and
she pulled a chair up beside Lizzie.

‘
So…’ she said teasingly.  ‘What’s with you and Tom, then?’

Lizzie blushed hopelessly. Shar was intrigued.
She wasn’t at all Tom’s usual type. Historically, his girlfriends were quite glamorous, dull and extremely short term. Lizzie was very pretty, but you’d never call her glamorous. And all that long tawny hair was beautiful but bore no resemblance to his usual shade of blonde. Lizzie was interesting - not at all what she expected.

‘
And you and Rich....  I mean, you are together aren’t you?’ retaliated Lizzie.               Shar giggled.  ‘You know, I think I’m in
lurve’
she confessed reluctantly. ‘And actually, you’re the first person I’ve told!!  Cheers!’ They chinked glasses.

‘Do you know,’
she confessed, ‘until a few weeks ago, I’d had the worst crush on Tom forever! He used to make my knees knock, seriously, every time he walked into the room. So loudly I swear everyone heard them!  Can you imagine how excruciating it was for years, spending school holidays with my best friend in a perpetual state of embarrassment because I fancied her brother?’ She shook her head, laughing at herself. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, but that bloody man is the sole reason I stayed single for about 5 whole years you know…’ she shook her head in Tom’s direction. Well, that was
nearly
true, single except for the odd fling as she‘d tried and failed to conquer her obsession.

‘Oh.’ Lizzie swallowed. She hadn’t known this, but quickly Shar added, ’Go for it!
He really is as lovely as he looks. Just clueless!  On another planet!  Doesn’t see what’s right under his nose, as I know from bitter experience!’  She looked at Lizzie and they both giggled. ‘In fact, I’ll let you in on a little known secret. So far in his choice of women, he is a total disaster. He seems to go for a particular type – you know – the obvious kind, with trowel loads of make-up, tight clothes, high heels and all that. And you’ve probably realized by now that Tom mooches round in faded jeans and old shoes all the time. He doesn’t even think about what he looks like. Anyway, there was this girl who was crazy about him…very pretty and not altogether that bright… We were all going out on Rich’s boat and one of her Jimmy Choo’s broke as she climbed on board and she fell in.  I don’t think he even noticed…’

They were
engulfed in laughter by the time Tom and Rich returned with even more champagne, exchanging mystified looks, especially when a slightly sloshed Shar raised one finger towards Lizzie, saying, ’Not one word, don’t say I said…’

Seconds later, Antonia collapsed into the chair next to them. She
was wearing the most gorgeous dress which looked horribly expensive and showed off her toned figure and seemed utterly at home as she kicked off her high heels.

‘Simply marvellous bash isn’t it? Pass me some champers will you
darling, I’m parched…’

Lizzie passed her a glass, and looked at Shar. ‘Antonia, this is Shar, she’s Susie’s bridesmaid. Shar, this is Antonia
.  She lives down the road with her daughter Cassie, and Hamish. Her horse…And Dave, who’s a sheep…

Shar looked at her curiously. Antonia extended a hand in front of Lizzie towards Shar.

‘Good to meet you. Golly! Haven’t danced this much in yonks.  Tobes is simply inexhaustible, darling!’

‘Antonia
’s man,’ explained Lizzie. ‘Toby. The estate manager. You’ve probably met him.’

‘Aah.’ A look of enlightenment dawned on Shar’s face
. ‘He does seem, erm, rather dynamic...’

Antonia
snorted.  ‘He certainly is.  I say Lizzie, have you seen old happy Harry?  She’s looking frightfully jolly…’ 

Harriet was indeed twirling around with a nameless man, resplendent in tangerine
taffeta.  Antonia hid behind Lizzie.  ‘I’m hiding darling – don’t move… Oh Lord, hope he doesn’t spot me. Really could do with a rest.’

‘It
’s the age difference,’ teased Lizzie.

‘What is?’ enquired Rich, pulling
up a chair to join them.

‘Toby and Antonia. She was just saying she can’t keep up with him!’ Lizzie glanced at Antonia.

Antonia glared at her.

Rich and Shar had danced and danced, lost in the music and each other, and before long Tom had persuaded Lizzie to join in.  He was a great dancer, whirling her around until laughing and out of breath Lizzie told him she needed to stop. He took her hand and led her outside.

Apart from the odd bleat
from a hidden sheep, peace permeated the garden and Lizzie followed Tom down to the furthest part, where from under an old oak tree they looked across the fields to where the sun was sinking slowly in a glorious sky that was a similar shade of orange to Harriet’s dress. The air was still warm and if you could have painted your perfect summer evening, this would be it. In fact, the whole day had been perfect, every second of it. And it was about to get even more so, when hesitating only briefly, Tom gently pulled Lizzie close.  Looking down at her, he stroked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.  Her heart was pounding so hard Lizzie thought he must hear it, but then he bent his head towards hers and kissed her.  And as their lips touched, for one blissful moment it was as though they too had melted into the landscape as everything – the music, the people, the marquee - all of it faded into the background.

‘I’ve had a wonderful day
,’ she said softly when they came up for air, looking up at him, her hands linked tightly with his.

‘
Me too,’ he replied, ’But… it’s far from over yet... You, young lady, have a whole lot more dancing to do!’ he added mock-sternly as he swept her back towards the marquee. ‘And while we’re at it, how about some more champagne? The night is young…’

It was well into the early hours of Sunday morning with the glimmer of dawn breathing life into the new day, when the last of the die-hard party-goers called it a night. The dog-breathed Jasper was still stalking the marquee in hot pursuit of a victim who’d luckily given him the slip, and Susie and Rory had long since departed in an ancient jaguar, rattling the usual assortment of tin cans tied on with baler twine along with a muddy pair of hunters.  A distinctive aroma of sheep pooh had filled the air when Rory eventually started the engine, and Susie had refused to throw her bouquet, insisting instead that her mother should dry it so she could keep it forever.

The party mood subsided slightly after that, and after declining the invitation for a skinny dip in the Woodleigh’s pool, a
slightly awkward Tom muttered something about walking Lizzie home.

Ha ha! thought Shar
triumphantly. I just knew it! See her home indeed…

And it seemed at last that this
wonderful day was over, unless, Rich whispered suggestively in her ear, she might like to come to his room, just for one little nightcap…

Chapter 29

It was with some surprise that
it dawned on Lizzie as she awakened later that Sunday morning, that she wasn’t in her bed. In her sleepy, semi-conscious state, she registered the fact that she was lying on her sofa in her party dress, extremely warm and comfortable, apart from the slight thumping in her head and a mouth that felt like sandpaper.

Dimly aware of sounds coming from the kitchen, she
prised one eye open and wriggled into a more upright position just as Tom appeared carrying two mugs.

Lizzie blinked disbelievingly at him, as he sat himself on the floor ne
xt to her, and passed one of them to her. And then it all came flashing back, how they’d giggled and danced and kissed their way down the lane last night, talking some more as the sun came up. And once back at the cottage, there’d been more talking, and much more kissing, which ordinarily might have progressed to something, had an exhausted Lizzie not fallen fast asleep in Tom’s arms. Tom, though, who would happily have continued kissing Lizzie for a whole lot longer, was sleepy too, but had felt strangely peaceful lying there with this girl in his arms. Eventually, he too had drifted off to sleep.

‘
Thank you, this is the best cup of tea ever.’ She tried to sit up but winced. ‘Oh…I think I have a hangover...’

Tom laughed. ‘I should think you’re exhausted after
working for my sister, even without some thoughtless man forcing you to dance all night.  Great sofa though…’

‘Darius and Angel gave it to me… can you tell?’ 

He grinned and then a muscle twitched in Tom's cheek.  A frown crossed his face.  ‘I’m glad you said you’re not with Leo.  He's not good enough for you...’

But
it wasn’t just that… Crap. Tom knew he was useless at these things. He wanted to tell her that he thought that
they
could be good together, that he’d like to see her again, often…but the words just wouldn’t come to him. The risk of another rejection hung over him.  It was complicated.  And he couldn’t imagine how he could have a relationship with a girl who lived just down the road from his parents.

Tom leant over and kissed her
again before getting to his feet.

‘You know, I better get back and change. There’ll be pandemonium at the parents and they could probably do with some help. But do you fancy an early supper, if you can drag yourself out of bed
by then, that is?’ he teased.

Once he’d left, Lizzie gratefully collapsed back on the sofa. She wasn’t entirely sure what Tom had been trying to say, if anything and anyway, she was too tired to think about it.  Her whole body ached. All she wanted was orange juice and sleep, and the instant her eyes closed she was out.

Next time she awoke, she was horrified to see that it was four in the afternoon, and her phone was ringing. When she answered it sleepily, she found it was Bella, wanting to thank her.  No sooner had she put the phone down when it rang again, only this time it was Antonia.

‘I say,
awfully jolly party wasn’t it?  Must say I’m pooped though…Tobes has only just left… Has Miriam spoken to you?  Only she left me the strangest message…’

             
The next call was indeed Miriam.

             
‘It’s been the most astonishing day,’ Miriam told her rather excitedly.  ‘We

had more visitors than Boxing Day!  I had to call in extra helpers and there were all

these people who wanted to look at the gardens… Lizzie?  Are you still there?’

             
‘Sorry!  Had a late night!  But that sounds fantastic!  The magazine article

isn’t out yet… I wonder what caused it?’

              ‘Some of the schools sent notices home… but oh Lizzie… I don’t know if we

can cope with much more…’

             
Tom took Lizzie to the Goat, predictably, where a number of yesterday’s

wedding goers were already tucking in to sandwiches, and quite a few glasses of

mi
neral water, Lizzie noticed, with a slightly more of a subdued air than the previous

day.
  All except for Darius and Angel, who were larger than life and full of their usual

enthusiasm.

              ‘Lizzie flower!’ they both kissed her.  ‘And with Tom Woodleigh…
darling
…’

Darius
swooned and Angel gave Lizzie an exaggerated wink.

             
‘We were simply
devastated
to miss yesterday,’ Darius said sadly.  ‘I can’t tell

y
ou, flowers. Auntie Marigold has just the
worst
timing.  It was deadly, darlings.  Feel

sorry for us
...’

             
‘
Lethal
…’ added Angel.  ‘And she’s so doo-lally she’d never have missed

us
… Anyway!  Do tell!  It must have been simply
wondrous
…’

              After an evening re-living the previous day with the various occupants of the

Goat, i
t wasn’t until they returned to Lizzie’s much later on that they actually had a chance to talk properly.

‘I still haven’t figured out where
we met before, you know,’ said Tom as they went to sit outside, the back garden still warm in the evening sun.

‘Nor me,’ said Lizzie.  ‘
And you know it’s funny – I remember every bit of the wedding, but after that, it’s a little blurry…’

‘
Are you flirting with me Lizzie Lavender?  Maybe I need to jog your memory…’

‘
Perhaps you could try…’  Lizzie gazed innocently back at him and her insides did a back flip. 

‘What did you have in mind?’  But
before she could answer, he leaned over to kiss her and it was just like before.  All Lizzie could feel was his lips on hers, his hands in her hair as everything faded around them.

‘I’d say you remember rather well…’ he muttered, gently kissing her neck then moving up to her mouth again.

Still
in those earliest days and a little uncertain of what they are to each other, Tom took Lizzie out for lunch on the Monday. Away from Littleton and Oakley. Somewhere where they wouldn’t know anyone and could blend into their surroundings.  He knew just the place.

They drove
in Tom’s Boxster with the roof down so that Lizzie’s long hair flew out behind in the wind.  Tom had always liked the Spotted Pig. It was a proper pub. He’d first ventured in here under age, secretly thrilled at getting away with buying a pint, and had been back over the years with various girlfriends.  It was part of his history. And unpretentious and untrendy, with red velvet seats inside and wooden tables alongside the canal, it was just his kind of place.

The food was tasty. Not as
fancy as the Goat, but good plain pub fare – steak and kidney pie, ploughman’s… that sort of thing.  And after the last few days, Lizzie liked that they were alone. Tom was good company but so far, she hadn’t gleaned much more about him than the nuts and bolts everyday stuff rather than the deeper, more soul-searching meaning-of-life type of talking. 
Everything I’m so good at myself..
. 

F
urther along the canal bank sat a couple.  A rather sleek, polished girl with shiny bobbed fair hair and high heels, who raised one eyebrow as she spotted Tom. She watched quietly for a while, her eyes not leaving him for a second, then she spotted the girl he was with. Then absolutely couldn’t resist any longer just walking casually by, jogging his shoulder.

‘Oh I’m so sorry…’ spoken in
such soft, lady-like tones, followed by, ‘Goodness!  Tom? What a surprise! Oh how
lovely
to see you! After all this time! Simon? Look who it is! It’s Tom!  Tom Woodleigh…’ 

             
Silenced, dumbfounded, Lizzie found herself deliberately snubbed. The intimate mood was shattered in an instant as she sat back and watched with disbelief as ‘Lucy’, as Tom had introduced her, completely took over.

The fish that Lizzie had carefully chosen
earlier was suddenly bland and tasteless, and the French bread stuck in her throat, threatening to choke her.  Tom himself was looking most uncomfortable. The atmosphere of just minutes ago, that air of unspoken promise, that hint at seduction, it had all just vaporised leaving Lizzie overshadowed in every sense, as she watched the old friends catch up.

‘What brings you here of all places?’ Tom had asked her.

‘Oh, Simon and I were in Cirencester for the weekend,’ she replied airily.  ‘And you?’

‘Susie got married
on Saturday… Lizzie did her flowers actually…’

With barely a glance at Lizzie,
Lucy had raised those neatly arched eyebrows and said casually, ‘Of course, you had the family wedding... I’d heard about that.  How is Bella by the way?’

Her words were just a touch
too
familiar, and in that split second, Lizzie was on to her. This was no accident. Suddenly she had no doubt whatsoever that Lucy had carefully engineered the whole meeting, staking out the pub, biding her time, waiting for Tom to show.  The gleam in her eyes said it all.

             
‘She’s well,’ said Tom.  ‘Actually, we were just about to eat…’

             
‘Oh, then we’ll join you, won’t we Simon… we’ve so much to catch up on…’  And that was that.

Lucy
dominated.  Holding his attention, as she chatted away, with an ‘oh you must remember this, Tom’, and ‘Oh Tom, remember that time…’ 

There was no stopping her. Lizzie
could feel Tom gradually becoming distanced, as he didn’t meet her eye.  Such a very different Tom to earlier.  Simon too was less than impressed.  Making only half-hearted attempts to join in, he eventually gave up and stared miserably into his pint.

It was the longest lunchtime ever
before ‘last orders’ was shouted for the final time.  They’d all wandered out to the car park together, where Lucy had hugged him far too closely, before she kissed him goodbye. Lizzie had felt slightly sick. And Lucy had smiled coldly at her, the smile not reaching her eyes, as she offered a limp hand in Lizzie’s direction.

On the way home,
Tom had tried to make light of Lucy’s presence.

‘Nice seeing her again,’ he remarked casually, before lapsing
into silence.

Back in Littleton, t
he kiss that they’d both anticipated earlier was reduced to

a dry brush
of lips on cheeks, as Tom stayed in his car.

‘I’ll call you,’ he said, not
quite looking at her, before driving off up the lane.