A Taste of Honey (10 page)

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Authors: Iris Leach

Tags: #romance, #contemporary

BOOK: A Taste of Honey
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“We want the best for our baby. And there are our parents to consider. Dad’s depressed enough as it is without me being pregnant and no husband in sight. I don’t think he could take that. He’s very old school.”

“But marriage without love. It won’t work.”

“I don’t know. What about all those Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy movies? They always started off disliking each other and getting married and then falling in love.”

Judy sighed. “I give up.”

The news had spread rapidly throughout the office until even the tea-lady threw her a rather lurid wink. For the first time in her life, Charli was the center of attention and she didn’t like it.

She had to get her private affairs in order. There was her apartment to consider and after deep deliberation, she decided to sell it and invest the money. She also sold most of the furniture, only keeping a few pieces that had belonged to her mother and with which she’d never part.

Judy had approached her and suggested lunch with the girls from the office. Just what the doctor ordered, Charli thought, an enjoyable hens’ afternoon.

The girls had all chipped in and brought her a miniature weeping fig tree planted in an opaque, blue-green ceramic pot.

She’d expected a few snide remarks, maybe a snigger or two, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The girls were genuinely excited for her, wishing her happiness and love forever.

She glanced over at the weeping fig tree standing majestically in the corner of her bedroom. She’d plant it in the garden when she was settled in with Will.

She knew Knight Books owned a penthouse suite at one of the major city hotels and that Will stayed at his uncle’s house in Kew. This was where they would live after their marriage.

He’d taken her there last Sunday. His house was on a street that was a beautiful leafy tunnel, winding around a steep hillside, with only patches of sun filtering down to the road. There were Japanese cherry trees and tall, masterful gums.

Entry to the house was through a solid gate to a courtyard. He’d taken her on a grand tour. After all, he’d said to her, this was to be her home.

Dining, living, kitchen, laundry and bathrooms were on the ground floor, which was white marble throughout. The wide balcony off the living room was also marble. Huge sliding glass doors gave unhindered views over the city proper. Five double bedrooms with their own large balconies were on the second floor.

It had been awe-inspiring to say the least. She glanced again at her plant.

“Don’t worry, little fig tree. I’ll find a great spot for you among all those exotic plants, I promise you. Just as I have to find my own spot among Will’s exotic friends.”

Chapter Twelve

The ring is worn on the fourth finger of the left hand based upon a Grecian fable that the artery from that finger flows directly to the heart.

Will never gave her an engagement ring. He had no idea how to court a woman, and Charli had to admit that it hurt. Then she chided herself for her romanticism. When would she grow up and face the truth of their situation. It was a done deal. A handshake and a tap on the side of the nose.

She admired herself in the mirror. A strapless party dress of white chiffon that swirled around her legs at every movement, complete with a black satin sash. And in a mad moment she’d bought a pair of corsage strappy black sandals. Expensive, but she’d fallen in love with them at first sight.

A knock on her bedroom door had her saying, “Come in, Dad. I’m dressed and armed.”

He was laughing when he entered the room. “You look lovely, darling.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting Will and his family.”

Will, on his mother’s insistence, was helping her with last-minute preparations and greeting guests. He’d wanted to pick them up from her flat but she’d protested. As they were all staying the night at Ester’s it would be simpler to get a taxi and Will could drive them home in the morning. Still it was nice that he’d offered and showed he did have a little sensitivity where she was concerned.

“I’ve only just met his mother, and believe me, Dad, you’re in for a treat.”

“Nice lady?”

“Yes, of course, but she’s — um, well she likes things orderly and she likes to be in charge.”

He smiled. “So did your mum. She ran our life together with an iron rod.”

“I don’t remember Mum being like that. She was soft, gentle, and loving.”

“Yeah, she was that, but she was a strong, determined lady too.” He nodded his head. “Just like you, Charli. You’re the living image of your mum.”

This was the first time her dad had ever suggested such a thing and it thrilled her to think he thought her like Mum. And now, when she really thought about it, their lives had crashed down upon them when her mum had died. She had been stalwart; the strength that kept the family together. And it came to Charli that women were the
rulers of the earth
and that behind every great man was a woman pushing him every inch of the way.

It strengthened her and she knew that she could handle Will Knight with one hand planted in a cement block and the other knitting him socks.

Charli’s spirits lightened and she suddenly was looking forward to the party and, like her dad, meeting Will’s family and friends.

A horn tooted. “That’ll be the taxi,” her dad said. He offered his arm, “Shall I escort you downstairs, m’lady?”

Charli gave a tiny bow. “That would be delightful, m’lord.”

• • •

Even though they’d had left early wanting to be there before guests arrived, the party seemed to be in full swing when Charli and her dad arrived.

Will greeted them with a light kiss on Charli’s cheek and a warm handshake for her dad.

“Dad, this is William Knight. Will, my father, Steve Honey.”

“So pleased to meet you at last, Steve.” The men shook hands.

As Will led them into a large room that had been set up for the party, he said, “You look absolutely magnificent. White’s your color — you should wear it more often.”

She laughed, delighted at his compliment and feeling more in control, more feminine by the minute.

People were chatting and laughing. In one corner, a pianist was tinkling out mood music. At the back was a long table covered in a lace cloth, behind which stood a black-and-white clad man, presumably the drink waiter.

“Like a drink, Steve?”

“Cold beer would go down well, thanks, Will.”

“Champagne cocktail, Honey? Mum’s specialty guaranteed to curl your hair with one sip. Or in your case straighten it.

She laughed. “I’ve always fancied my hair hanging long and straight, but I prefer an orange juice.”

“Your hair is perfect as it is,” Will said, and she couldn’t control the blush that crept into her cheeks. Was that compliment for her father’s benefit? Of course it was. Will wanted their parents to believe they were deeply in love. He couldn’t have said anything less to her, now could he?

Will left them to get the drinks. “Who’s the lady in the green dress with all the feathers and diamonds?”

“That’s Ester, Will’s mother.”

“Nice stamp of a woman. Introduce me.”

His face had more animation in it that she’d seen for a long time. Why, he was almost salivating. “Dad, you behave.”

It pleased her that her dad was healing. This was the first time he’d shown interest in another woman since her mother had died. No, retract that, he’d never shown interest in any other woman but her mother, and now, his eyes were twinkling over Ester Knight. A woman Charli thought her father would well steer clear of. Yet he saw something in Will’s mum that she hadn’t.

She looked over at Ester. Could it be that she was warmer than Charli had thought? What was that saying, never judge on first impressions?

They walked over to where Ester was talking with a tall, thin man. “Ester, excuse me for interrupting, but I’d like you to meet my father.”

Ester turned and when her eyes landed on Steve, her mouth broke into a wide grin.
My God, is this a mutual admiration society? Is she having a — I hate to use the word sexual — is she having a friendly reaction to my dad?

“Dad, this is Will’s mother, Ester Knight. Ester, my father, Steve Honey.”

Ester held out a long white hand. “So pleased to meet you, Steven,” she almost gushed the words. “We’ve got so much to talk about. You know, the wedding, the guest list, and the flowers, which I believe you’ll be handling and I’m sure in a most delightful manner. Can you give me a few minutes, say, after everyone has left? We could have a cocoa before bed.” She smiled. “Or maybe something stronger.”

Her father actually bowed. What’s going on here? “I’d be delighted,” he said.

“And this is my brother, Duncan Meadows, Duncan, Steven Honey and his daughter, Will’s fiancé, Charli.” And so the introductions went on until Charli’s head was swirling trying to place names to faces.

It was a good party, and everyone was enjoying themselves when a little bell sounded and Ester’s strong voice echoed across the sea of sound. “Time for toasts,” she said. “And I believe William wants to be first.” She smiled indulgently at Will.

Will came to her side and took Charli’s hand. He led her to the front of the table and looked down at her. If she didn’t know better she’d say there was a warm look in his eyes, sort of like, well — love. Get real.

He took her hand, groped in his pants pocket and came out with a little black box. Her heart leaped in her chest. Was it? Could it be? Maybe it was a broach, or a pair of diamond earrings, which would be good, she reassured herself, and then braced for disappointment.

“Honey,” Will said. “You have promised to be my wife and made me a very happy man.”

Yeah, what fairy tale did that come from?

He lifted the lid and removed a ring that boasted diamonds and pearls. He slipped it on her finger, bent his gorgeous head and kissed her mouth. She wondered if she should say thank you, or return his kiss with all the passion she carried for him deep down inside her heart?

She gazed down at the ring and remembered reading somewhere that in the 1800s a diamond and pearl engagement ring was suggestive of a diamond tiara across the finger. She loved it.

She didn’t want to think of the
if only’s
. This was her night to imagine that this was real. Will’s touch of tenderness. This beautiful ring on her finger. Here in this lovely room with all these lovely people who wanted to include her in their family, accept her, and love her. It was such a great night.

Then everyone was congratulating them. Kisses and hugs all around.

The night ended in such a warm glow that Charli practically floated to her room. She hopped into bed and fell asleep, her right hand clasped over Will’s ring.

Chapter Thirteen

Be interested in all she does and always tell her how lovely she looks.

Be honest and she’ll love you all the more for it.

Will insisted on seeing her father’s farm. She tried to fob him off, as she couldn’t understand the reason behind his insistence that he hadn’t had time to really get to know her dad, but finally she’d given in and taken him to Rich River.

Between the two men, a kinship arose; as if there had always been a deeply rooted friendship that was both comfortable and easy. Her father proudly showed Will over the farm and Will behaved as if he’d never been in the country before.

“I’ve been lucky,” Dad told Will. “I’ve got good revenues to sell my flowers. I’ve made a pretty comfortable life here in Rich River.”

“A lot of work for one man,” Will said.

“Not once you’ve got it all under control, and I have a couple of local men helping me out.” He reached out to touch Charli’s cheek. “Not like my kid here. Big knob in a publishing house. She sure is a clever girl.”

“Take after you, Dad.”

“Could do worse. And working together is great for a marriage. Why, your mum and me, we were together 24/7 and never once had more than a few angry words. Although she did go off shopping or to the movies once a week. To get me out of her hair, she’d say.” He chuckled. “And I played a round of golf now and then. I think another secret to a good marriage is each having an interest to call one’s own.”

“You sure found the key, Dad. You and Mum had a perfect marriage.”

“That we did, love. That we did.” He stood and stretched. “You kids must be starving. I’ll get lunch going.”

Will stood. “Can I help you, Steve?”

“No, son, you sit and finish your beer. I like to potter about on my own.”

Will sat back down and they watched Steve disappear inside the house. “I like your dad,” he said. “He’s a good bloke.”

“And he likes you.”

“Do you think so? I like to think he does like me.”

She leaned over and touched his arm. “You’re easy to like, Will.” She grinned. “Sometimes.”

“Why do you always have to qualify?”

“It’s the meanness in me.”

He leaned over and kissed her mouth. “Yeah, then I reckon I’ll just have to mellow you out.”

They drew apart as her dad emerged, juggling plates and cutlery. He cooked them a barbeque lunch of his specialty, sausages, fried onions and mushrooms, squashed into a big bun smothered with tomato sauce that dripped down your fingers.

Charli decided the day was exactly how she wanted it to be.

Being with the two men she loved more than anything else in the world.

• • •

That night the three of them sat on her father’s well-worn veranda, Charli sipping an ice-cold glass of ginger beer, her dad and Will drinking beer from a can, the way her father had always drunk his beer for as long as she could remember.

After her father had retired for the evening, Charli and Will went for a walk along the well-trod paths of the Murray and sat near the river’s edge throwing stones into the deep, dark water.

She was glad now that she’d taken Will to the farm. She’d wanted him to know her slice of life. Let him see how she’d been raised, and maybe he’d understand her uneasiness while around Ester Knight.

“Your father reminds me of my dad,” Will said. “Down to earth, strong and dependable.”

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