Time to take a chance, p.4
Time to Take a Chance, page 4
A swathe of fields spiralled away in a vast circle beneath her and the views for miles were spectacular. Not a single soul was to be seen, and there was an incredible kind of peacefulness that somehow seemed to seep into her soul.
Lizzie flopped back on the grass, thoughts whirling giddily in her head. Staring up at the cloudless sky, the sun’s rays like hot pinpricks, she could feel her body relaxing. But her mind was another matter, tossing and turning this way and that. One minute everything seemed so obvious and the next about as clear as mud.
Reading Elizabeth’s letter had knocked Lizzie sideways. But as she lay there, a glimmering of understanding came to her as to how she’d come to be in such a mess. And at last, she allowed her mind to venture back, into the forbidden zone, to the day they’d found out about the tumour. That most gut-twisting, heart-wrenching of moments. Would it be easier not to have known? If one day, further down the line her mother had simply just not woken up?
Feeling the knot growing tighter inside her, Lizzie wiped away tears. More tears – where were they all coming from? Hadn’t she done her crying a year ago? She might have, had it not been for Jamie who couldn’t abide public displays of emotion. His words of comfort had been Chin up, Eliza, don’t let the side down. She’d done her best to just carry on as usual, believing it was the best thing – but now, it was catching up with her. And there, on top of the hill with the brightness of the sun and the softness of the grass, albeit a little late, it finally got her.
As memories of her mother’s last weeks came back, her body shook with sobs. Thoughts of the horrible funeral filled her head – more sobs. It had poured with rain on the day. After the briefest of services, with Jamie stiffly by her side, Lizzie had wished the flowers hid more of the coffin. Rigidly controlled at the time, now she wailed loudly.
Drained at last, Lizzie lay there. In the end it was details, all of it, she thought, wiping away the tears. And none of it was how she remembered her mother. What would she make of this? But the more she thought about it, the more obvious it was that her mother would have approved wholeheartedly. To the end, Isobel had embraced life. It was an adventure… Jamie wouldn’t know one if it hit him between the eyes.
With the sun dipping down towards the horizon, Lizzie’s step was a little lighter as she made her way back to the village. Her head was clearer too and she’d composed herself again by the time she turned into the lane towards the Star.
‘COO-ee!’ It was Antonia marching to catch her up, two small terriers trotting along at her heels.
‘Hello!’ Lizzie stopped to wait for her.
‘Still here? Silly to ask. Nothing happens fast around here! No doubt old Dave’s being as slack as ever! I hate to tell you but that place is useless.’
‘I’m beginning to realise! How come he stays in business?’ Lizzie asked.
‘Oh, the old rogue’s got it made. He’s rented that place since the year dot for a peppercorn rent and every so often all of us misguided villagers buy a tank of petrol even though he’s 10p a litre more than Tesco. All in the name of supporting local business. I ask you… Bloody man just exploits us if you ask me.’ Antonia looked disgusted.
‘Who are these?’ Lizzie bent to stroke the dogs.
‘Full and Bursting. I wouldn’t touch them. Horrible little bastards rolled in fox poo,’ said Antonia, continuing, ‘Well, seeing as you’re stuck here, fancy coming over for a drink later? It’s Apple Trees, past the pub on the left. Just need to muck out a few stables first – six-ish okay? Jolly good, toodle-pip!’
Not waiting for Lizzie’s reply, she strode off up the road, her golden curls glinting in the sun.
Back in the salubrious surroundings of her room, Lizzie flung the windows open and flopped onto the bed. She couldn’t help dozing off, but was rudely awakened a short while later by a car speeding past, followed by another as a relentless stream of traffic started up. Closing the windows to the racket, Lizzie was beginning to think the villagers had a point. It wasn’t really on, was it, to go blasting through some backwater just in the name of shaving a couple of minutes off your journey.
By now wide awake, she reached for Elizabeth’s letter again as the unthinkable crossed her mind – that if she’d found it just one week later, she’d have been Mrs James Archibald Mountford by then and her beige fate would be sealed. Lizzie shuddered. Or would she somehow have seen the light… Fleetingly it crossed her mind about whether fate had had a fall-back plan just in case.
Lizzie read it again and a neglected voice in her head positively shouted at her. You’ve got it all wrong! Yes, you work hard, but there’s so much else! When did you last take a sickie because it’s too lovely a day to be in the office? Or go running on the beach just for the joy of it? Or get blitzed with your girlfriends and laugh until you fall over?
It was true. She had been this close to becoming Mrs Boring-without-a-life, married to Mr Serious-with-a-beige-house. Both with serious-but-boring jobs with prospects. Nothing in the slightest wrong with that, of course. Nothing. For other people. Not Lizzie.
Images of Julian in tight trousers and Jude filing her nails flashed into her head. And endless meetings about budgets and cost cutting – soul destroying when you were trying to be creative. But oh. OH. How could she possibly have forgotten? She might have run away but she still had that job and in two and a half weeks she was due back.
Even working out her notice would be unbearable. Could she call Julian? Did she dare? Just maybe talk him round? She knew for a fact that some of her workmates were being laid off… Lizzie glanced at her watch – five past six – might she even catch him now?
She was put straight through.
‘Ah Lizzie!’ Lizzie could feel the hairs on her spine prickle. How could someone be so nauseatingly smug, she thought, picturing him sitting at his desk, smelling the garlic breath coming out of the phone. ‘What a pleasant surprise!’
‘Hello, Julian. Actually, the reason I’m phoning, is to tell you I’m leaving the magazine… I’m… handing in my notice. As soon as I can. You see, er, I’ve had a slight change of plan.’
‘Oh no,’ he said in horror. ‘Oh dear. I had, er, heard actually, Lizzie…’
How? But she remembered how Jamie had insisted on inviting work colleagues to the evening do, much against her better judgement.
Julian sounded worried. ‘Now, Lizzie, I do hope it wasn’t my speech that put you off was it?’ he asked fretfully. ‘About the blessings of marriage, which I must say is rather close to my heart. As you know,’ he added, sounding unbelievably self-righteous.
‘Oh…’ Lizzie wracked her brains. ‘Er well, actually, I do have to say it really made me think, Julian. Yes, I did a lot of thinking when I got home. It was very useful indeed.’
‘Oh dear.’ Julian was sounding even more worried.
Lizzie crossed her fingers. It wasn’t ideal, but sometimes a lie was the only way. She instantly thought of the tea bags. ‘Actually, Julian, what I was wondering, was there any chance, in the, er, circumstances, you might just consider accepting a shorter notice? Only this is all terribly difficult for me as I’m sure you can imagine and I would be so awfully grateful… and it would allow me to do more, er, thinking you see… I’m sure Jude would be happy to cover…’ Sorry, Jude… She’d be no such thing, Lizzie knew that but how many times had Lizzie covered for her. She was desperate and Jude owed her.
She could hear him huffing as he thought about it.
‘Well, it’s not at all usual… and we’ll miss you terribly…’ he started, sounding more than a little put out. Lizzie held her breath. ‘But, oh, in the circumstances… I suppose it would be all right. Just this once. But don’t let this get out,’ he warned.
Handing over the bottle of the Star’s finest white vin de table she’d taken with her to Antonia’s, her hostess looked less than impressed.
‘Lord, they’re not still flogging that old crap… Here, already opened this. It’s much nicer.’ She handed Lizzie a glass of something red, then enquired when her car would be mended.
‘I’ve absolutely no idea! It’s in the hands of the gods, and well Mick, whoever Mick is, whenever he deigns to turn up.’
Antonia snorted. ‘I’m afraid your first mistake was leaving it with Dave in the first place. Mick shows up when he feels like it. I don’t suppose he mentioned that. Doesn’t appear for weeks sometimes. He’s not a bad mechanic, just rather elusive. Hope you weren’t going anywhere in a hurry.’
‘I was… sort of, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. Not really…’ Lizzie was just wondering whether to inflict her sorry life story on Antonia, when a rotund black shape with hooves came galloping into the kitchen. It skidded to a halt in front of her, threatening her with a small pair of horns.
‘Bloody animal.’ Antonia glared at it. Through slitted yellow eyes, it glared just as furiously back.
‘Bugger off, Dave,’ she ordered, pointing over at the door. ‘Get out…’ The animal glanced over at Lizzie, shooting Antonia a look of pure venom before scarpering back outside.
‘Bloody madhouse,’ said Antonia, slamming the door behind it. ‘Should have eaten it months ago. Now, don’t happen to like horses do you? I’ve got one that’s marvellous with beginners…’
Lizzie stared at her in horror. ‘No – thank you.’
As Antonia topped up their glasses, Lizzie looked around the homely kitchen, with the pile of dogs sprawled on the flagstones beside the Aga and bridles cluttering the table.
Old paintings hung on the walls, slightly crookedly and looking to Lizzie as though they might be valuable. The furniture also looked suited to somewhere grander, but Antonia clearly wasn’t house proud. She’d left her boots over by the door where she’d kicked them off and dropped a bunch of carrots still covered with earth in the sink, but in spite of the untidiness the cottage was welcoming and homely.
Lizzie just had to ask her. ‘So how did you come to be living here? And please don’t tell me your car broke down…’
‘I was far too young to tie the knot,’ said Antonia, resting her feet on an empty chair so that the holes in her socks showed. ‘I mean, golly – twenty-two and completely naive. You know how it is. Still, at least I got one thing right. Harry had money, which is always useful… Oh, and I have this daughter. Teenager – frightfully hormonal, I’m afraid – and quite touchy. Anyway, we separated,’ she continued matter-of-factly. ‘He wanted us to move to the States with him – completely out of the question of course. Insisted I leave the horses and when I told him he was being ridiculous, he went without me. But so much better this way,’ she added heartily. ‘I can’t tell you! Anyhow, I came to Littleton about five years ago to look at a horse… Damned animal was bonkers. Bolted with me for miles and bloody nearly killed me but at least I came across the house! Well, Harry’s less generous these days, and it’s frightfully handy with all those stables out there…’ She waved her hand towards the garden. ‘Anyway, been here ever since!’ Then without pausing for breath she asked, ‘So tell me about you. What takes you to Cornwall?’
Where the blazes did Lizzie start. ‘Okay. Until yesterday, I was engaged to be married, to Jamie.’
Antonia’s eyes were like saucers.
‘Only it was all a big mistake. God, such a big mistake…’ Lizzie shook her head. ‘And before that, my mother died.’
She shouldn’t have had that second glass. Wine always did this to Lizzie – lowered her defences, heightened her emotions. Her voice wavered. In all this time, in a year, she’d never spoken those words out loud to anyone.
Antonia reached across the table and patted her arm, a little like she patted her dogs.
‘She had a tumour. In her brain. And it was the most terrible thing ever watching her go through it. She was so brave…’ Lizzie hadn’t known there were any tears left after earlier and she mopped them gratefully with the tea towel Antonia pushed towards her.
‘Anyway, then I got this letter,’ Lizzie started to sob heartbreakingly. ‘I only found it two days ago, and it made me wake up to myself, I suppose you could say. I’ve realised I needed to change things.’
‘Starting with the boyfriend.’ Antonia looked at her, suitably impressed. ‘Golly! Awfully good place to start.’
‘Okay. Let me tell you about him,’ Lizzie said, blowing her nose and pulling herself together. ‘He’s sort of good looking. Well, I thought so. Obviously… And quite arrogant. Thinks he’s superior to everyone else. And serious. He does work hard and makes a lot of money, which he likes to show off with. And buy expensive beige things for his horrible beige house. Our wedding was all about how rich and tasteful he is. I can’t believe how close I came to marrying him…’ Laughing and crying at the same time.
‘You should have married him first, Lizzie, and set yourself up,’ said Antonia entirely seriously.
‘I’m surprised he hadn’t made me sign some sort of prenuptial agreement… You know, he even insured our wedding. Without telling me…’
‘Lord! Sounds as ghastly as mine was! No one ever tells you that men are such crap! Well, there’s the odd one that isn’t, like my vet for example. Lovely man, darling. Not my type at all though, sadly… There’s always William,’ she added thoughtfully. ‘But stupid bloody idea isn’t it, tying yourself down like that…’
‘Well, Jamie’ll probably finish better off than when he started, thanks to the insurance. Plus, his middle name is Archibald.’
Antonia hooted. ‘That’s nothing. Mine’s was Cecil! Like something from the Dark Ages! Absolutely no doubt, darling, we’re much better off without them! Cheers!’
Antonia poured out the rest of the wine.
‘So, how long ago exactly did you lose your mother?’ she asked more soberly.
‘Just coming up to a year.’ The lump was back in Lizzie’s throat.
‘Golly. He was in a hurry then, wasn’t he? Awfully soon, I would have thought…’
Stupidly Lizzie was blinking back tears yet again.
‘I’m so sorry!’ she howled, her tears by now a torrent, ‘but until now, I haven’t really talked about it!’ And with that she completely dissolved.
A rather shocked Antonia clattered off and came back with a loo roll, the tea towel by now well and truly soaked. Then after more clattering about in a cupboard and the sound of the top being taken out of a decanter, she stuck a small glass under Lizzie’s nose.
‘Scotch, darling. Just a teeny snifter. Awfully good I find, when you’re a bit… you know…’
The snifter did the trick and fortunately Lizzie had gathered herself together before the door was flung open again, only instead of a sheep, this time it was a furious-looking teenager. With huge flashing eyes and hair flying out behind her, she was stunning.
‘I can’t believe you forgot.’ She gave Antonia a look like daggers. ‘What sort of a mother forgets her own daughter. Honestly. Sometimes I think you do it on purpose to save on petrol.’ And she shook her red curls and flounced haughtily up the stairs.
Antonia looked guiltily at Lizzie. ‘She’ll get over it. I expect Elspeth gave her a lift. Bloody woman. It’s her mission in life to make me look like a rubbish mother.’
‘That’s not exactly difficult…’ yelled the voice from upstairs, but Antonia ignored her.
‘Cassie?’ she shouted without bothering to get up. ‘Scout needs mucking out. And Felix called – he’ll be late. Can you catch Hamish while you’re out there?’
‘And this is Lizzie by the way,’ she added as Cassie reappeared down the stairs in her jodhpurs. ‘She’s staying at the Star. Dave’s fixing her car.’
Cassie looked across with interest. Lizzie’s first impression had been right. She really was extraordinarily pretty, with golden skin and dark eyes fringed with the blackest lashes. And that hair was just glorious – waist-length Titian curls, now caught in a heavy plait that she’d looped over. Lizzie put her at about sixteen.
‘Hello! Poor you,’ she said sympathetically, then turned to glare at her mother.
‘It was really, really embarrassing, Mummy. I was standing outside for half an hour until Mrs Hepplewhite came along. And on my own, all that time. I could have been kidnapped or mugged or anything… Think how guilty you’d have felt… ’
‘I’m sorry, Cassie. Honestly, darling. I promise to remember next time…’
‘You always say that…’
Cassie was not to be placated, and was pulling on her boots when there was a knock at the back door. A tall skinny boy stood there looking awkward.
‘Hello, Cass. Hi, Mrs M… er…’
Cassie sighed exasperatedly.
‘Oh, Dylan, not now… I’m really busy. Felix is coming over and I need to warm Halla up. And I’m already late because my useless mother forgot to collect me…’ Cassie glared at Antonia one final time before stomping out.
Dylan shuffled his feet and went pink. ‘Okay, well, I’ll, er, go then…’
‘I really wish she’d put the poor boy out of his misery,’ said Antonia after he’d gone. ‘Truly. If it’s not him hanging around looking lovesick, it’s his brother and Cassie’s not interested in either of them, thank God.’
‘That’s a shame, he seemed – nice.’ Gentle, thought Lizzie, and clearly besotted with Cassie.
‘Teenagers,’ huffed Antonia. ‘Emotional, hormonal and spotty – they’re all the same. I’ll open another bottle.’
But Lizzie got up to leave.
‘Thanks, but I should get back. Thank you so much, for the wine and the shoulder, and sorry I needed it. I’m not usually like this!’
