A Hopeless Romantic Part 16

"Hm," said Mary.

Silence fell as George and Angela Foster carried on eating. Laura watched them through the window, mesmerized by her own family and the contrast to the scene she'd left behind.

"How about opening another bottle?" said Mary. "I think I'd like another gla.s.s."

George looked up, aghast, as Angela frowned. "Really, Mum? Do you think...?"

She trailed off as Mary gave her a stern look. George and Angela were not great drinkers, but Simon and Laura took after their grandmother. The idea that three people could get through more than a bottle at lunch clearly appalled George, whereas the idea in reverse appalled Mary. But George was a good son-in-law, and so, as Laura watched him fondly, he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, stood up, and said, "Of course. I'll just see if there's any..."

"In the wine rack, the Hamilton Russell," Mary said firmly. George crossed the sunny dining room and disappeared into the tiny kitchen through the corridor.

"Lovely." Mary looked pleased. "You know, after lunch I think I shall sit outside and do the crossword for a little while. It's such a beautiful day."

"Yes," said Angela, though it was clear she was actually thinking, No, you should have a nap and a gla.s.s of water. "I wonder where Laura is," she said out loud. "Her text message did say she'd be back from Naomi's by lunchtime, didn't it?"

"Naomi. Yes," said Mary musingly. "Funny. I've never heard her mention Naomi before. Have you?"

Laura hurried across the lawn and through the French windows. "h.e.l.lo," she called, putting her bag on the floor as her father appeared with the wine.

"Laura!" said Angela, her face alight with pleasure. "Here you are, and there's still some lunch left. Ratatouille, you like that, don't you? Would you like some ham? Here, have this sandwich."

They looked at Laura expectantly, as one.

"Did you have a nice evening, darling?" Angela said. "How was Naomi?"

"Er." Laura cleared her throat and stared at them.

"Bread?" said George, proffering the bread basket.

"Wine?" said Mary, pushing a spare winegla.s.s toward Laura.

Laura cleared her throat again and ran her hands through her unruly hair. She was starving again-why was she so hungry all of a sudden?-but felt like a savage come amongst civilization and did not trust herself to form a full sentence.

"Thanks," she said, and sank into the chair her grandmother pulled out for her.

"So," said Angela. "We were surprised to get your text message. But how nice. Did you and Naomi get to chatting, then? Reminiscing about old times?"

"Yes," said Laura. "Yes, we did."

In answer to her mother's curious stare, she tried to expand.

"Because it was nice to see her."

"Great," said George, talking to his ham. "Well, you missed the windmill this morning, Laura, but we've got some great news!"

"What?"

"Great! Laura, we've managed to get tickets to see the Seekers Tribute Band! The box office just rang to confirm they're holding them."

"For me?" said Laura in a slightly strangulated voice. "Oh-well, I-"

"They thought they might be able to get you one, too, Laura. Come on, love," said George. "It'll be terrific fun. Oh, I know, they're not that popular with you lot"-he waved his hand in the direction of Laura and Mary, leaving Laura unsure whether he meant not popular with young people, old people, or merely people with ears-"but I promise you'll have a good time." He stood up. Laura swallowed a remark in her throat.

"Mary, are you sure you don't want to come? We can get Laura one if she wants, there's one for you, too, I'm sure. Tickets are still available, you know."

"What are the odds?" said Mary to her plate of ham. "Amazing."

"Yes," agreed George happily.

"No, thanks," said Mary. "Just fantastic you can go, of course, and Laura, I'm so jealous. But at my age-whew. I think the excitement might be a bit too much for me, you know. I think I'd better stay in and get an early night." She smiled serenely at her daughter.

"Excuse me a moment," said Laura, pushing her chair back and getting up. "I'll be right back."

She went outside, plucking her phone out of her bag, and texted: You were right. Going to Seekers Tribute Band tonight. Help.

Mary was standing up when she got back. "I'm going to sit in the sun for a while," she said. "Enjoy the calm before the storm tomorrow."

"Why?" said Angela, who was collecting the plates. "What's tomorrow?"

Mary gave her a look. "My birthday, Angela dear. Don't be silly."

"It's on Sat.u.r.day, Mum," said Angela.

"Oh." Mary smoothed her gray hair. "Oh. Of course it is. It's-it's Thursday today, isn't it. Yes." She looked rather uncomfortable, her hand clutching the back of the chair. "Silly of me."

"Let me give you a hand," said Laura, coming forward. Her phone rang in her bag. "Oh."

"You get that, darling."

"No," said Laura, thinking it could be Amy. "Let's go outside. If they leave a message, I'll hear."

"So, you had a nice time yesterday," said Mary, walking slowly, her grip on Laura's arm tight as they went outside. She relaxed a little in the sunshine, pushed her sun hat on as she sat down again.

"Yes," said Laura uncertainly.

"Did you hear all about the wetlands yesterday?" asked Mary. "They're not that special, are they? Personally, I've always thought they were rather dull." She fixed a beady eye on her granddaughter.

Laura breathed in as she met her grandmother's gaze. She could have just told the truth. There was nothing to be ashamed of; she was a grown-up, she could do what she liked with whom she liked. And it was hardly as if she'd actually done anything, anyway. She could just say, "I met this nice bloke yesterday, he lives at Chartley Hall, and I stayed in his room but nothing happened." But something stopped her. She breathed out again.

"It's funny," said Mary. "Xan and I, when we used to come here, do you know what we'd do?"

"No," said Laura. She sat down next to her grandmother. "What?"

"We'd read. And go for long walks. And watch films. Eat lots. Listen to the radio, do the crossword."

"Nice," said Laura, because it was, and she loved hearing Mary talk about Xan.

"He loved fish," said Mary, her eyes closed. "Grilled fish. That barbecue"-she waved in the direction of the barbecue at the edge of the garden-"we'd use it every night. Just the two of us, some wine, some cla.s.sical music on the radio, sitting out here watching the sunset."

She was silent.

"Your parents don't go in for that sort of thing, though. They like being told things. Seeing things. Cramming in as much as possible. Your grandfather and I-well, we liked doing our own thing."

"Your way's the best way, I think," said Laura. Because it was still Xan and Mary she looked up to more than anyone else in the world, not her parents, and it was Mary's approval she craved all the time, rather than her mother's.

Mary looked up sharply. "There's no right or wrong way, Laura," she said, sticking her neck forward and tilting her hat up so she was looking at her granddaughter. "That's not what I meant. I mean, each to their own. What's sauce for the goose, and all that."

"What?" said Laura, confused.

Her grandmother lay back in the chair again. She said quietly, "You're twenty-eight. Aren't you?" Laura nodded. "My memory's so terrible these days. Darling, all I'm saying is-you're not your parents' age. Yet. Or mine. You should enjoy yourself while the going's good."

"Right," said Laura. She stared out across the sea, wanting to ask more; but when she turned to her grandmother to say, "Do you know where I was last night, then?" Mary was asleep.

She picked up the sandwich her mother had given her and munched it happily; then she dozed for a bit in the sunshine, her mind stretching lazily back across the previous twenty-four hours, sifting through everything that had happened. It was refreshing, really, she decided. For so long her life had been so narrow, so confined to what one man was doing, when he could see her, at the expense of everything else, that to be here, to have met Nick-and Charles, of course, and seen the house-it was all really interesting. Yes, that was it, nothing more than that.

Yes, it was true that Nick was attractive. In fact, he was gorgeous. It was also true that he lived in a huge house, one of the greatest houses in the country. And there was also the other stuff-how easy it was to talk to him, how funny he was, how she felt she could tell him everything even though they had nothing in common. She thought of the previous night, sitting high up in the soft glow of the dining room overlooking the darkening woodland, each of them leaning into the candlelight, their elbows on the table, drinking wine and talking, talking and laughing. It was a great Brief Encounter, that was all, and Laura told herself that it was a really good sign that she could get out there and meet someone as nice as him. It boded well for the future, even if she wasn't going to see him ever again. She wasn't. It was just too weird. Leave it at that, a perfect evening, a nice experience, an amusing story to tell Jo and Yorky when she got back, to show them she was over Dan, that everything was okay and all of that-yes- Her phone rang again and, without thinking, she picked it up out of her bag. Nick Mobile. Well-just to be polite.

"h.e.l.lo," she said softly, not wanting to wake Mary. She got up and walked to the low wall on the other side of the garden.

"Hi," said Nick. "Get home okay?"

"Yes, thanks," said Laura. "Thanks again."

"It was...a good evening, wasn't it?" said Nick.

"Really good," Laura agreed, wanting to say more but not wanting to go too far.

"I mean it. I really enjoyed myself, Laura."

"Well, I did, too," she said. "I mean it, too." She smiled into the phone. There was silence, and she knew he was doing the same thing.

"You know," said Nick, "it's a real shame about tonight."

"The Seekers?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm sorry."

"I am, too," said Laura. "You have no idea."

"Do you have to go?"

"What?"

"Can you get out of it?" he said.

"No," said Laura. "They've got me a ticket and everything."

At that moment, her father appeared at the French windows and called, "Laura?"

Mary shifted in her chair, and lowered her hat even farther.

"Laura, we're going for a walk," her father said, bending down to brush something off his Gore-Tex sandals. "Come with us? We're going to look at the marsh, about two miles away. Marvelous birds."

"Oh," said Laura.

"Wait a minute, George," her mother called, disappearing back into the house to fetch something. "My binoculars."

"Oh, G.o.d," Laura whispered into the phone. "Help." Then she realized Nick was still there, and said, "Sorry."

"Don't be," he said, and she could hear laughter in his voice. "So, you're going to the marsh, and then to the Seekers Tribute Band concert, and you're not going to let me take you out for a drink?"

"No," said Laura sadly. "I've said I'll go. I can't get out of it."

"Right."

"Right."

"Of course," he said, "I'm not the kind of man who'd ask you to lie to your parents and get out of an evening with them so I can see you again."

"No," said Laura. "You're not."

"And you're not the kind of girl who'd agree to lie to get out of the evening in the first place."

"No, Nick," said Laura again. "I'm not."

"So," he said, "I'll meet you at six-thirty, then?"

"Where?"

"The north gate?"

"See you there," said Laura, smiling into the phone again as her mother emerged from the house.

"Ready?" her dad said.

"Oh, dear," said Laura, putting down the phone. "Mum, that was Naomi again. Her boyfriend. He's just dumped her. She was really upset."

As she walked across the lawn to her parents, Laura distinctly heard Mary chuckle softly beneath her hat, but she ignored it, knowing she would pay for it on Judgment Day, but also knowing that, as lies went, this one was almost excusable.

chapter twenty-one.

...T hat's why you don't seriously like them. Name one single player."