After the Honeymoon (55 page)

But now Greco was getting impatient. ‘We must go soon,’ he murmured, dancing close to her on the terrace, making her body tingle with expectation.

‘We will,’ she assured him. ‘But there are still some guests I have to talk to.’

Reluctantly breaking away, she headed towards Sally. It was so nice of Gemma’s mum to have come over. ‘Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ she assured her. ‘In fact, we’re going to take the opportunity afterwards to have a little trip round some of the other islands. It will be nice to have some time with my grandchildren.’

Gemma got the feeling that Sally was secretly relieved to get away from her stiff, academic husband who was ‘too busy’ to join them.

‘By the way,’ added Sally brightly, ‘there’s a little parcel for you inside, on the reception desk. Don’t confuse it with the wedding present. My husband did a big clear-out of the garage the other week and found some things that belonged to you.’

That wasn’t surprising. She’d spent more time at Gemma’s house, after Mum had died, than in her own house.

‘Not much,’ continued Sally brightly. ‘Just a jumper and some books and an old letter. It’s actually addressed to someone else, but it has your name and contact details on the back. Do hope it wasn’t too important …’

The lantern-studded terrace began to blur. Surely not, Rosie thought … Glancing back, she could see Greco talking to Winston, slapping him on the back in a friendly, manly way. There was just time. Swiftly, she made her way to reception and began sifting frantically through the presents. There it was. A carrier bag bearing a well-known British shop name.

Rosie’s chest thumped as she took out the blue jumper in a style which had been very popular in her teenage days. A book of poetry, too, with her mother’s name written in the front. And a letter. Addressed to one Charlie King.

Crouching on the floor, her wedding dress spread out about her, she began to read her loopy schoolgirl writing.

Dear Charlie
,

I’ve got something really difficult to tell you. I’d much rather talk face to face, but I don’t know where you’ve gone, so I’m hoping that if I send this to your base, you will get it before too long. There’s no easy way of saying this
…

I’m pregnant. And I’m scared. I need you here with your strong arms around me, telling me it’s going to be all right. Dad is going to go absolutely mad when he finds out. He wants me to go to university and I want to go too. But I can’t get rid of your baby, Charlie. I just can’t.

If I don’t hear anything back from you, I’ll presume you don’t want anything to do with me. But I know you’re not like that
.

Rosie read and reread the letter before standing up and walking down to the sea, away from the music on the terrace. So Winston hadn’t received the letter, just as she hadn’t received his. He hadn’t lied. He hadn’t abandoned her. Because he simply hadn’t known about Jack.

Now was the time to put the past behind them, Rosie told herself as she ripped up the letter into small, thin strips and watched them flutter into the sea like confetti. After all, Jack
had
his father now. And she had Greco. At some point, she might tell Winston about her own letter going astray, but not now. Maybe later.

‘Where have you been?’ Greco asked when she returned.

‘I needed to see the sea,’ she replied truthfully.

He kissed her full on the lips, to the delight of one of Gemma’s boys. ‘That’s rude, isn’t it, Mum?’

‘Not if two people love each other,’ smiled her friend.

Jack and her dad, Rosie noticed, were sitting next to each other, talking. Her dad seemed to be explaining something, and Jack looked as though he was listening.

‘Ready?’ asked Cara, handing her the fruit.

‘Instead of a bouquet, we throw a pomegranate,’ explained Rosie to her English guests. ‘Whoever catches it will have a baby within the year.’

There was a roar of approval. Greco’s arm was on hers, impatiently. ‘Here we go,’ she called out.

The pomegranate soared into the air. ‘Good throw, Auntie Rosie,’ called out one of Gemma’s boys. ‘Whoops. Watch out, Mum!’

Gemma had caught it! More to protect little Lucy than anything else. ‘That’s all I need,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Still, you don’t really believe in that sort of thing, do you?’

They were going now. Greco’s arm was around her shoulder as everyone called out their farewells. She stopped briefly to give Jack a big hug, and then Dad. Winston was hovering. She hesitated.

‘It’s all right,’ Greco whispered. So she brushed his cheek, feeling … feeling precisely nothing more than friendship.

Winston looked at her steadily, his hand on their son’s shoulder. ‘Do you know, I forgot to ask you something.’

Rosie’s heart almost stopped. ‘What?’

‘Where are you going for your honeymoon?’

She thought of Greco’s small fisherman’s cottage with its rows of books and big comfortable bed, which they’d decided to keep as a bolthole from the villa when they needed time to themselves.

‘Home,’ she said, nestling into her new husband’s shoulder. ‘We’re spending our honeymoon at home.’ Then, glancing up at Greco’s loving face for reassurance, she added, ‘It’s where we belong.’

‘In our day we didn’t have wedding lists. We ended up with three teapots, four salad bowls, three toasters, four trays and two Teasmades.’

Ethel, still using one of the teapots thirty years on

WINSTON

‘Down, Barney! Down!’

What had got into him? Maybe, thought Winston as he prepared for the morning’s filming, he was still unsettled after the summer. Nick’s mum had been great at looking after him while he’d been away in Greece, running his course.

But Barney had been gratifyingly exuberant when Winston had returned, leaping up to slobber him with kisses.

‘Had a good time, did you?’ asked Nick’s mum, after he’d thanked her and given her the presents he’d brought back, including some of Greco’s figures which were, he’d checked, reassuringly solid. This time, they didn’t contain anything they shouldn’t.

‘It was wonderful to spend some time with my son,’ he said.

Pam nodded approvingly. ‘I hope one day you’ll bring Jack here to meet us.’

Winston hugged her, noticing, as he did so, Nick smiling at him from a silver-framed photograph on the sideboard. ‘I’d like that. He’s going to put Exeter University down as his first choice, you know.’

He was unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Pam shot him a shrewd glance. ‘And how does his mother feel about that?’

Winston thought back to the conversation he’d had with Rosie before he’d left, about the letter she had sent him all those years ago. No one seemed to know how it had ended up in the downstairs cupboard, although Gemma had confessed that she ‘vaguely remembered leaving the letter with her mother to post’ as she had to rush off to choir ‘or something’. ‘I’m not certain – it’s so long ago. I’m really sorry, Rosie.’

It would have been easy to have fallen out with her friend over it, Rosie had admitted to Winston. ‘I almost didn’t tell you about it, and then I realised that we’d already had too many secrets. As Cara says, maybe all things are meant.’

Maybe. Maybe not. Deep down, Winston knew that the young Charlie wouldn’t have made a very mature father, but he still couldn’t help feeling wistful at the same time at what he’d lost.

‘Rosie’s quite keen that we have some father–son time,’ he now told Pam. ‘Of course, Jack will go back to Greece during university holidays, and I’ll be there in the summer to run my course again.’

Nick’s mum was smiling at him in a sideways manner – her youngest daughter used to do the same. To his surprise, Winston found Nick’s memory reassuring rather than painful. ‘Sounds as though you’ve wrapped everything up quite neatly.’

Winston grinned. ‘Put it this way, I feel much more optimistic about life than I’ve done for a long time.’ Then he caught himself. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to be disrespectful.’

‘It’s all right.’ She caught his hand. ‘You’ve given me a new lease of life, Winston. I look forward to your visits – and yours too, Barney!’

So did he. Perhaps, Winston told himself as he sat at the dressing table waiting for the make-up artist to arrive, he’d ring Pam after the programme and suggest Sunday lunch.

Maybe, he thought, glancing at his iPad and rereading the email that had just arrived from Greco, he might tell her about this. Funny, he hadn’t put Greco down as an email man, but he’d clearly underestimated him. In more ways than one. The email was couched in formal terms, more like a letter.

Dear Friend
(
I call you that now
),

There is something I must tell you. Rosie thinks it comes best from me. My cousin Yannis – who I do not care for – has been bragging to a member of the family that he made a great deal of money from what he called ‘the famous exercise man in Britain’.

I am afraid that he overheard my Rosie on the Skype to her friend Gemma last year. He was the one who told the newspapers that you had a love child, although he did not know it to be Jack.

I give you my heartfelt sorrow that a relative of mine has acted in this way. It goes without saying that I will now have nothing to do with this cousin who has brought dishonour on my wife and a family friend. Apparently this is not the first time he has acted shamefully, and somehow managed to keep it hidden.

So that explained it! Winston leaned back in his chair, mulling it over. Until now, neither he nor Rosie had been able to understand how the papers had known that she was the mother of his child. Still, at least they’d managed to keep Jack out of the publicity glare.

‘Hiya!’ A small girl with bright pink streaks in her blond hair bounced into the room. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late. Weren’t expecting me, were you? Thought not. Gwenda’s off sick – up the duff, between you and me – so you’ve got yours truly instead. The name’s Toni, by the way. That’s with an “i” and not a “y”. Who’s a lovely boy then?’

Still dazed by Greco’s email, Winston thought initially that the last bit was directed at him. But then he saw the girl – now she was closer, he could see she was more of a woman – kneeling down and stroking Barney. The dog (traitor!) was rolling on his back, legs in the air, waiting to be tickled.

‘He normally only does that to people he knows,’ said Winston, taken aback.

Toni grinned. ‘I have that effect on animals. Now, let’s get you ready then.’ She stood behind his chair. In the mirror in front, he watched her assessing his face with a grave authority that seemed at odds with her entrance and appearance.

Without warning, her fingers ran lightly over his cheekbone and eyebrows, like soft butterflies.

The effect was electrifying.

Why? This girl with her in-your-face friendliness wasn’t his usual type. She wasn’t like Nick. Or Melissa. Or Rosie. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing …

‘Don’t think I’m being over-familiar,’ she chirruped. ‘I like to
feel
people’s faces before I do them.’

Briefly, Winston had a mental flash of Melissa doing his make-up on the day they’d met. Strange. The memory didn’t hurt as much as it used to.

‘Right,’ she announced. ‘Got it. Going to watch are you – Barney, isn’t it? My dog does that too.’

Winston felt that spark of interest growing. ‘What kind do you have?’

‘Red setter. Quite mad but I adore him. So does my son.’

Really? ‘How old is he?’

‘The dog or the son?’ Toni beamed. She had a nice smile. Rather an infectious one. ‘They’re both ten. I got Roo when Jake was born. Thought he might be company for us both.’

He glanced in the mirror at her bare left hand.

‘I’ve got a son too,’ said Winston, settling back into the chair. Wow. This woman’s hands were like magic. The others had never started with a head massage. ‘He’s called Jack. He lives with his mother in Greece but he’s coming over for the next school holidays to see me and his grandad.’

‘Cool. There’s nothing like kids, is there? Keep you on your toes, that’s for sure.’

Then she stopped. Without needing to look in the mirror, Winston knew she’d found it.

The ugly raised scar.

Visible proof that he’d tried – so hard – to save Nick from that inferno before being pulled away by one of his men.

‘I think we’ll leave that.’ Toni’s voice was soft. ‘I don’t believe in covering things up. They’re a sign of having survived something, aren’t they? After all, if you can get through one problem in life, you can get through another.’

‘I agree.’ He faced her fully and squarely in the mirror. ‘Look, I know this might sound a bit forward. But I was wondering. I know this great place near here that does coffee. They take dogs too …’

We are delighted to announce that Mrs Emma Walker (mother of Gawain and Willow, who are current pupils) will be helping to run the new school crèche. Baby Scott will be amongst the first intake! Meanwhile, we welcome her husband Tom as our latest recruit to the PTA. A real family affair!

A teenager from Corrywood has landed her parents with a hefty bill after using her dad’s iPad to download music. ‘ Her new boyfriend borrowed it without her permission,’ declared father Marvyn, who now plans legal action against the nineteen-year-old (unemployed) youth.

Extract from the
Globe

Cnt believe it! Am pregnant agn! Must hve been that pomegranate. Wll Skype later. Still in shock. Bt nice shock!

Dear Jack,

Thought you might like this postcard from Devon. See that ice cream place on the front? We’ll go there when you come over. Don’t know about you, but I’m quite partial to a 99. So’s Shirley. Give my love to Mum.

Love Grandad

I dn’t believe it either. I’m pregnant 2! Greco over moon. Jack surprisingly xcited. Wants a baby sister . . .