Good at Games (37 page)

“Because it scratched the back of my neck,” said Lucille. “It's by Donna Karan.”

“Don't give me that. You couldn't afford a belt by Jasper Conran, let alone a dress.”

“Maeve bought it for me. She found it in the St. Peter's Hospice shop.”

“I've never worn a thrift-shop purchase in my life,” groaned Julia.

“It looks nice,” Lucille assured her. “Why don't you give it a go?”

The dress looked fabulous. Luckily, Lucille hadn't expected Julia to fling her arms around her, crying, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm so sorry I was horrible to you before. From now on, let's be best friends forever.”

Because she didn't.

“I suppose it'll have to do.” Smoothing the velvet over her narrow hips, Julia said ungraciously, “I shudder to think how old it must be. Two or three seasons at least.”

Waving Julia off into the night—still agonizing that some woman at the ball might recognize it from Jasper Conran's autumn '97 collection—Lucille decided that one day, when the timing was perfect, she would tell her the truth.

Walmart.

Suzy was in her car, on her way back from an appraisal in Abbot's Leigh, when her cell phone rang.

She almost careered off the road and into a tree when she heard who was on the other end of the phone.

“Suzy? Hi, how are you?” Leo's voice sent shivers down the backs of her legs. He sounded as if he were smiling. “Listen, I need you. Desperately.”

More shivers. All over this time, darting in all directions like uncontrollable schoolchildren out on a day trip.

How totally weird that Leo should have called at that moment, just as she'd been thinking about him.

Oh, come on
, thought Suzy,
who am I trying to kid? I spend 99 percent of my time thinking about Leo…he'd be hard pressed to get through to me on the phone during that fleeting 1 percent when I'm not.

“Ah, but can you afford me?” she said lightly. It wasn't what you'd call a dazzling reply, but it was better than wailing,
Oh Leo, I desperately need you too.

And so much less embarrassing.

“I could try bribery,” Leo suggested. “Would that work? All the chocolate éclairs you can eat?”

Only if you let me lick the melted chocolate off your bare chest.

“What's the problem?” said Suzy, giving herself a mental slap across the face.

“The door to the cellar. I know you gave me instructions on how to open it, but nothing's happening. It really needs to be kicked by an expert.”

“OK. Look, I'm in Abbot's Leigh. I'll be with you in fifteen minutes.”

As she spoke, Suzy was already pulling off the road. It would only take five minutes to reach Sheldrake House. That left her another ten to redo her hair and makeup.

* * *

“OK, now pay attention.” Stepping slowly toward the old trap door—like Michael Flatley about to launch into something spine-tingling—Suzy carefully raised her right foot and brought her heel down sharply on the bottom left-hand corner of the weathered oak door. “Then you kick it again six inches farther up…exactly
here
. Then you grab hold of the handle”—reaching down, she clasped the iron ring in both hands—“and yank it to the left while turning it to the right… Don't forget to keep your foot on that left-hand corner while you're doing that… Then take your foot away and
pull
.”

The trap door swung open, and Suzy stepped back, curtsying modestly.

“See? Just like that.”

“Bloody thing. I've been trying to get it open for the last hour.” Leo's smile was rueful.

“Right, now you have a go.” Letting the door drop back in place, Suzy moved to one side. “Remember the routine. Kick, kick, grab, yank, pull.”

Twenty minutes of intensive training later, Leo had more or less gotten the hang of it. His footwork wasn't perfect, and his yank-to-the-left-and-turn-to-the-right technique was haphazard, but he was definitely on his way.

“I'll have to get it fixed.” Shaking his head, Leo rubbed his dusty hands on the sides of his jeans.

Wishing she could do the same—but suspecting Leo might regard it as an infringement of his personal liberty—Suzy said, “It's only an empty cellar. Will you ever use it?”

“Gabriella has plans to turn it into a gym.”

A gym. Of course. Suzy, who couldn't imagine anything more horrible than a gym in your own home, said, “What a fantastic idea. Now, these chocolate éclairs you were talking about earlier, would they be filled with fresh cream or that weird squirty stuff out of a can?”

Paying no attention whatsoever, Leo murmured, “Oh God, your foot.”

Gazing down, Suzy saw that a larger than average spider had clambered up her shoe and was now precariously balanced on the toe.

Leo, looking a bit pale, was edging away. “He must have climbed out through the trap door…”

“The cellar's always been full of spiders.” Bending, Suzy gently scooped the runaway into her hand and set it down on the top of the stone steps leading back into the cellar. “There you go, sweetheart, you'd only get lost up here.” Glancing briefly across at Leo, she added, “Or stepped on.”

In the kitchen, Leo made a pot of coffee and Suzy demolished a fresh-cream éclair. Just the one, because she didn't want him to think she was a pig. Then, remembering that it didn't matter what Leo thought, because in just a few weeks he'd be marrying someone else anyway, she thought,
What the hell
, and ate another one.

“Not long to go now, before the wedding.” She felt obliged to make a feeble stab at conversation as Leo handed over her cup. Reaching across the table had caused his pale gray cashmere sweater to ride up, affording her a glimpse of dazzlingly taut, tanned flesh above the belt of his jeans.

I want to
touch
it. I want to know what it feels like
, thought Suzy, going hot all over with lust and shame.

“You're coming?” said Leo.

Gosh, jolly nearly.

Oh no no
no
.

He's getting married, remember.

To Gabriella.

Mentally giving herself a big pinch in an attempt to restore order, Suzy said sunnily, “Wouldn't miss it for the world. Any excuse for a party. And please,” she told Leo, “feel free to invite as many gorgeous eligible males as you like. What with me being such a desperate old spinster these days, I need all the help I can get.”

It was meant to be humorous. She'd said it to lighten the mood, that was all. He was supposed to laugh and make some jokey derogatory remark in return.

Leo didn't laugh.

He said seriously, “I spoke to Lucille last night. We had a long chat.”

Oh God. All muscular control promptly flew out of the window. Suzy almost dropped her coffee cup. It was a miracle she hadn't wet her pants.

“Why didn't you tell me?” said Leo.

Oh God oh God oh God.

“Whaa…” Suzy discovered that her lips were moving in all the wrong directions. “Wha…wha…whaaa?”

“Why did you never tell me the truth?” Leo persisted.

This was desperate. This was truly diabolical. Maybe it wouldn't be so awful if only he was saying it in a lovey-dovey, Prince Charming kind of way, but he wasn't.

He was looking at her like a scientist observing a wired-up monkey in a lab.

“Oh, come on, I just
couldn't
.” Suzy clenched and unclenched her hands, which had gone all damp and tingly with embarrassment. Whatever else happened, she was definitely going to have to kill Lucille.

“I suppose not. But I wish you had. It would have made a real difference,” Leo said quietly.

Duh? It
would
?

“I didn't respect you,” he went on, as Suzy's head shot up. “I knew you weren't really in love with him, and that's what I couldn't stand. I thought you were just in it for the publicity, the money, whatever…”

Double duh?

“Hang on, just hang on a second,” Suzy blurted out. “What exactly did Lucille tell you last night?”

Leo gave her an odd look. “Everything. About the engagement being a sham. About Harry blackmailing you into going along with it, because it was his big chance to make a sackload of cash. I mean, I always knew Harry envied me, but I never realized he had such a thing about being second best.”

Suzy waited, without moving a muscle, for Leo to take a breath before adding, “Oh yes, and of course Lucille told me the great story about you being in love with me. Ha! Gabriella and I had a real laugh when we heard that one.”

It didn't happen.

Leo had finished speaking.

Which was great news for Lucille because it meant she didn't have to die a grisly, Hannibal Lecter–type death after all.

And even better news for Suzy herself.

“I felt sorry for him,” she told Leo. Miraculously, her powers of speech had returned. “When I realized how much it meant to Harry, I didn't have the heart to say no. And it wasn't as if we were hurting anyone.”

“No.” Leo looked thoughtful for a second. “No, I suppose you weren't.”

“I have to go.” As the grandfather clock began to chime out in the hall, Suzy rose to her feet.

“Busy?” Leo smiled slightly.

“Busy. I'm showing a couple a house on Bell Barn Road.” Suzy forced herself to concentrate as he helped her into her coat. “Then at three o'clock, I've got an appraisal in Durdham Park. After that, I have to taxi some woman and her four children around half a dozen different properties… Oh, the fun never stops.”

Her coat was on. Somehow they'd reached the door. Proximity to Leo—and the touch of his hands on her neck as he'd straightened her upturned collar—had caused Suzy's heart to break once more into an undignified gallop.

Terrified in case he could hear it, she made a grab for the door handle. In that same split second, so did Leo.

“Sorry, sorry… Um, I've just realized I'm going to be late.” Flustered, Suzy ricocheted off the door frame, cracking her shoulder painfully—and audibly—against the wood. “Oooch, clumsy me, better get a move on… Don't forget: kick, kick, grab, yank, pull.”

“Absolutely.” Leo nodded, then held out his arm, blocking her exit. “Suzy, I need to—”

“Must dash now.” Ducking under his arm faster than a Harlem Globetrotter, Suzy trilled, “Give my love to Gabriella, won't you? And I'll see you both at the wedding!”

Except she wouldn't, of course, because she now knew there was no way she could put herself through such an ordeal.

Standing there watching Leo marry Gabriella, Suzy realized sadly, would simply hurt too much.

* * *

Oh God, what am I
doing
here? I must be mad. What am I doing here?

In the pew, next to Suzy, Lucille whispered, “Doesn't she look amazing?”

“Who?”

“Gabriella, you twit!”

“Oh. Yes. Amazing.”

“Beautiful dress.”

“Thanks.”

“Not you. I'm talking about Gabriella's dress. Honestly, will you listen to her?” Lucille shook her head at Jaz. “She's miles away.”

Suzy, sandwiched between the two of them three pews from the front, thought,
No, I'm not. I'm right here. But I certainly wish I were miles away. Whatever possessed me to change my mind and come to the wedding after all?

“Stop sniffing,” hissed Jaz. “You sound like a drug addict.”

“I'm sniffing because I don't want to
cry
.”

And I am a drug addict
, Suzy realized with a surge of hopeless sentiment.
Leo's my drug, and I don't know how I'm going to live without him.

“She's still doing it,” Jaz whispered in disbelief. He gave Lucille a nudge. “Have you got a spare tissue?”

Oh, Leo, I should have told you how I felt. Why didn't I ever tell you?
Her eyes swimming with tears, Suzy focused as hard as she could on the back of Leo's dark head, silently willing the words to somehow permeate his brain.

But it wasn't working. He wasn't hearing them.

Basically, because they were
silent
words…

“Does anybody here present know of any reason why this man and this woman should not be joined together in holy matrimony?”

The vicar asked the question in an almost jaunty fashion. Suzy saw Gabriella, her head in profile, smile briefly up at Leo. It was an intimate, reassuring smile, the kind that signified, “Don't worry, just a couple more minutes and we'll be man and wife.” Actually, it was quite a smug smile.

“I do!” Suzy called out, standing up and waving her program like an eager bidder at Sotheby's. Still, she had to make sure she caught the vicar's eye—imagine the embarrassment if he didn't spot her and she had to sit back down again.

But it was OK. He'd definitely noticed. As had the rest of the congregation—a chorus of gasps and oohs worthy of a Victorian music hall was currently echoing around the church.

“Suzy, shut up and sit down,” Jaz groaned.

“Sorry, can't do that. You see”—Suzy raised her voice to address her audience, who were by this time agog—“I love that man up there, and I need him to know that before he makes his vows to someone else. Leo, are you listening to me?” He hadn't turned around, but she guessed he probably was. “I love you. Really. More than Gabriella does, I bet. So, look, I'm sorry to muck up the service, and I'm really sorry if this is spoiling your day”—she looked at Gabriella as she spoke—“but I'd much prefer it if Leo married me.”

At last, Leo turned to face her. Love and hope surged in Suzy's heart.

“Suzy, stop this. You're making a complete fool of yourself.” His dark eyes were filled with sorrow rather than anger. “I mean, let's be honest. Why on earth would someone like me be interested in someone like you?”

“There,” hissed Jaz. “Satisfied?
Now
would you like to sit down?”

“No,” said Suzy, shaking all over.

“Suzy.” It was Lucille's voice this time; she was tugging at her sleeve. “Suzy, stop it. Come on now, it's OK. Everything's fine.”

“Fine? Are you mad?” cried Suzy. “How can everything possibly be fine?”

She opened her eyes and gazed, terrified, up at Lucille.

In her nightie.

Not a church, not a vicar, not an irate bridegroom in sight.

Oh, thank you. Thank you, God. Thank you sooo much.

“Blimey,” said Lucille, “you were having a bad dream. What was all that about?”

“I…I don't know.” Prevaricating, Suzy blinked and rubbed her forehead. “Was I shouting? What did I say?”

“You just yelled out, ‘No, no,' and waved your arm around in the air a bit.”