Happy Ever After (40 page)

‘Connie, tell Drew our lives won’t be worth living if he doesn’t call up and see her ladyship,’ Rita said the minute she walked into the kitchen.

‘Oh hi.’ Connie smiled at the tall man who was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. ‘Our lives won’t be worth living if you don’t go up and see her ladyship,’ she parroted obediently. ‘I thought Friday was your visiting day.’

‘I couldn’t come on Friday. But I did ring her. One of her horses foaled, so I took a photo of it and said I’d drop it in when I was passing by. I’m in a small bit of hurry, and she’ll want me to have tea with her, and I don’t like refusing her,’ Drew explained.

‘ ’Cos you’re a big softy,’ Rita teased.

‘Don’t listen to her, Connie, I’m as hard as nails. Did you have a good holiday? You’ve a good colour.’ Drew’s eyes lingered over her, and she wished she were a stone lighter.

‘The weather was fabulous,’ she sighed, at what was now almost a distant memory. ‘I heard it rained a lot here; the grass was up to my ass when I got home.’

‘And have you a big garden?’ He arched an eyebrow at her, his blue eyes studying her intently.

‘Big enough for the old crock of a lawnmower I have. I’ll have muscles like Popeye by the time it’s cut.’ She poured herself a cup of coffee, thinking how tanned he was without even leaving the county, let alone the country.

‘Where do you live? You’re local, aren’t you? I have a John Deere that mulches, so there’s no emptying involved. I’ll throw it in the trailer and do it in jig time for you?’ he offered.

‘Ah God no, I wouldn’t put you out,’ Connie exclaimed, flustered.

‘You won’t be putting me out at all,’ he said crisply. ‘Give me a time that suits, and your address, and I’ll be there. Who knows when I might need a splinter removed, or a wasp sting or worse, and you can return the favour.’

‘Are you sure?’ She was mortified, cursing herself for having mentioned it in the first place and having exaggerated the grass’s growth in the second.

‘Certain.’

She told him the address, and he pulled a piece of paper out of his jeans pocket. ‘Give me your mobile number, just in case anything happens that I can’t make it,’ he ordered. She rattled it off, conscious of Rita grinning at her as Drew wrote it down.

‘Better go. Here’s the photo for Mrs M.’ He handed her a colour photo of the most adorable jet-black foal.

‘Oh it’s gorgeous!’ Connie exclaimed.

‘Drop by any time to see her,’ Drew invited. ‘I’m sure you’ll be bringing herself to visit anyway.’

‘Drew, you’ll have to go up with it. You know the way she’s mad about you,’ Rita insisted.

‘The foolish woman.’ He grimaced. ‘I’ll go up for five minutes, but no tea, no matter what she says,’ he warned.

‘Why don’t you give me your mobile number, and I’ll ring you after ten minutes and you can pretend there’s an emergency at the stables,’ Connie suggested.

‘Brains as well as beauty, a rare combination.’ He smiled and wrote his number down for her. ‘Five minutes, max,’ he cautioned sternly.

‘Aye aye, sir,’ Connie saluted, amused at his bossiness.

‘Sorry,’ he apologized. ‘But I am in a rush.’

Mrs Mansfield was delighted when she heard Drew had called. ‘Bring up tea and scones,’ she instructed Connie when she showed him into her sitting room.

‘Now, Mrs Mansfield, this is just a flying visit, I’m in an awful hurry. I just wanted to drop you in a photo of the foal,’ Drew said firmly as he bent his cheek for her kiss. He was a kind man, and gentle with the old lady, Connie thought approvingly.

‘Sit down there now and tell me all the news. The tea will be here in a minute,’ Mrs Mansfield instructed, as pleased as punch. Connie made her way back down to the kitchen, grinning inwardly at the look of pleading Drew had thrown her. Rita had the tea made, the tray was set, and a plate of buttered scones was at the ready. ‘It won’t take him five minutes to scoff one of these and drink a little cup of tea,’ she declared. ‘Do you want to bring them up?’

‘No, you do it – don’t forget I’ve to ring him to let on there’s an emergency.’

‘Are you sure? I think he fancies you,’ Rita said wickedly, eyes twinkling.

‘Ha ha, I think
you
’ve a vivid imagination. You go,’ Connie said, as she topped up her coffee.

‘We’ll see,’ said Rita smugly as she lifted the tray off the counter and hurried out of the kitchen. ‘I bet he’ll ask you out.’

‘Don’t hold your breath,’ Connie called after her. She sat down at the table and stretched. The morning was flying, she thought, as she glanced at her watch. It was great to think she’d be finished in a couple of hours. The rest of the afternoon was hers. Should she try and cut the grass herself, so that when Drew called she wouldn’t waste his time? It would be a bit churlish if she did, she supposed. What on earth had made her open her big mouth?

‘He’s going mad up there,’ Rita chuckled. ‘You better make the phone call in a minute or so, or he’ll never speak to me again. He’s always in a rush, that fella.’

Connie took her phone out of her bag and dialled the number he’d written down for her.

‘Hello?’ His voice came strong and clear down the line.

‘You’ve an emergency at your stables. What it is I’m not sure exactly, you can make it up yourself,’ she said, trying not to laugh.

‘Thanks very much, I’ll be right there,’ he said briskly, and hung up.

Two minutes later he was in the kitchen. ‘Thanks for the tea, Rita. Thanks for the phone call, Connie. Have you decided what day suits you for me to cut the grass?’ He looked at her.

‘Tomorrow? Wednesday? What suits you?’ she hedged.

‘Tomorrow’s fine. Two thirty. See you then. Bye, ladies,’ he said, and then he was gone, striding out to his jeep and glancing at his watch in barely suppressed exasperation.

‘A man in a hurry,’ Connie murmured.

‘He’s never any other way. He’s a workaholic, if you ask me,’ Rita remarked, chopping vegetables at high speed.

‘And who’d want to be involved with one of them?’ Connie drained her mug. ‘Not me for sure.’

What on earth was wrong with him, going around offering to cut strange women’s lawns, Drew pondered as he drove along the narrow road that led to Mrs Mansfield’s. Surely he had enough work of his own to be doing. His offer had popped out almost before he’d known it. He could see Connie was embarrassed. He should have kept his big mouth shut. Drew sighed as his mobile rang and the Bluetooth clicked in.

‘Drew, it’s Marianna.’ An unwelcome voice crackled down the line.

‘Yes, Marianna, what is it?’ He could hardly conceal his impatience or his distaste.

‘I have a favour to ask. As you know, my dad’s in hospital, but Mama needs the car tomorrow, she has to see a chiropodist. Would you be able to drop me up to Blackrock, and she’ll drive up later? I wouldn’t ask, only that he’s seeing his cardiologist tomorrow and he’s asked me to be there.’

For crying out loud, leave me alone, woman, Drew wanted to roar at her, but he suppressed the impulse and said stiffly, ‘I’m very tied for time tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at eight thirty sharp. Take it or leave it.’

‘Thanks, Drew, that’s wonderful. You’re the best,’ Marianna gushed.

‘Eight thirty then,’ he reiterated, and hung up. She had such a nerve, he fumed. How he wished he could have told her to get lost. But she was the mother of his daughters and she was in a fix, and he’d been reared to do a good turn if someone was stuck. That was it, though, he swore as he drove into the stables, to see that the farrier was already there.

‘Sorry for keeping you, Mick,’ he apologized. ‘I got delayed. I called into Mrs Mansfield’s with a photo of her new foal, and of course she had to offer me tea.’

‘I hear there’s a fine-looking new nurse started out there this morning. The postman was telling me all about her. Divorced, too, but I’m not fussy,’ the old bachelor cackled.

‘News travels fast, Mick.’ Drew followed him into his own horse, Marino’s, stall.

‘Would I have a chance, d’you think?’

‘Don’t ask me – what do I know about women only that they’re trouble,’ Drew said grumpily, stroking his horse’s neck as the farrier held its hind leg up for inspection.

What would she wear for her trip to Dublin with Drew? Marianna flicked through the items in her wardrobe. Something smart, elegant and sexy. The sun was shining, for once, she noted as the early morning light filtered through the folds in the net curtains. Why her mother wouldn’t get blinds she could not understand.

She took out a pair of red linen trousers and a floral halterneck top and tried it on. Bit too casual if she was meeting a consultant, she thought regretfully. Red was good on her.

She tried on a pair of white trousers with a black cami and white jacket. Perfect, she decided. She could slip off the jacket in the car, and he could have the pleasure of looking at her perfect, pert boobs. She was so glad she’d had them done. They’d started to droop and, as they had drooped, so had her spirits. Middle age would be held at bay come hell or high water was her motto, and Edward had plenty of money.

She applied her make-up with extra care, smoothing the foundation over her serum, admiring her collagen-enhanced lips as she did so. She wondered, yet again, had Drew a woman in his life. He hadn’t brought anyone to Katy’s wedding. But that had been ages ago. Marianna expertly applied a set of false eyelashes. She didn’t look a day over thirty-five, she congratulated herself.

Her ex-husband arrived at eight thirty precisely and beeped on the horn. That was a bit rude. Marianna frowned. Surely he could have knocked at the door and said hello to her mother.

‘Morning,’ he said as he leaned over and pushed open the door of the jeep for her. She tried not to wrinkle her nose as she stepped up into it. It was mucky and dusty, although he’d obviously wiped the black leather seat for her. White was not the ideal colour to be wearing in Drew’s jeep.

‘Thanks so much for this.’ She tried the effusive-gratitude tack.

‘You’re welcome.’ He hardly gave her time to fasten her seatbelt before he was racing down the drive, staring straight ahead.

‘So what have you got on today that has you so busy?’ she asked chattily.

‘This and that,’ he said offhandedly.

‘What time do you have to be back?’ she persisted, eyeing him from beneath her lashes. His jaw jutted straight out as it did when he was annoyed, she remembered.

‘I’m dropping you off and coming straight back.’

‘Oh dear,’ she sighed. ‘I was hoping you could stay until after the consultant’s been. If I get bad news about Dad I’ll be devastated.’

‘What time are you seeing him at?’ Drew flashed an irritable look in her direction.

‘Two. I thought we might have a bite of lunch together beforehand, and then I’d see what’s up.’

‘Sorry, I can’t stay for lunch. I’ve made an arrangement with a friend of mine. She’s expecting me at two thirty,’ Drew said flatly.

‘Oh . . . is she a good friend? Are you seeing someone?’ She couldn’t contain her curiosity, and this was a perfect opportunity to ask the question casually.

‘Marianna, my business is my business, and your business is your business. I’ve no desire to know about your life, and I’ve no desire to tell you about mine. Let’s leave it at that.’ He was so cold still. So bitter.

‘I was only making polite conversation,’ she retorted.

‘No need,’ he said curtly, as he overtook a combine harvester.

Marianna bounced up and down on her seat as he flew over a pothole and hoped she wouldn’t lose her breakfast as well as her chance to win her ex-husband over. Now she was going to be stuck up in Dublin hours too early. And her plans for an intimate lunch and a chance to draw him back into her life had come to nothing.

She tried several times to make conversation as they sped towards the city, but he gave terse, monosyllabic answers, and she desisted eventually, knowing she was banging her head off the proverbial brick wall. And he
was
built like a brick wall, she thought admiringly, noting his lean, flat stomach and the muscles in his arms and shoulders. The familiar musky clean scent of him when he’d leaned across her to pick up the phone that she’d knocked out of the hands-free with her handbag had brought back vivid memories of how, in the early days of their marriage, he would grab her as soon as he was home from work and kiss her with a passion.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed with a passion, she thought disconsolately as the traffic became heavier and they slowed to a halt at Cornelscourt. They’d be at the clinic in another ten to fifteen minutes, and she’d have lost her chance. What could she do? Marianna racked her brains. A gift voucher. She’d get him a gift voucher to thank him for the lift and drop it over to him in the stables. She’d never been there, and it would give her the chance to have a look around. The girls were always raving about his house and the view from their bedrooms. Perfect, she thought happily. The gift might defrost him a bit. Because defrost him she would, this summer, Marianna decided, as Drew yawned behind his hand and pointedly ignored her.

Connie groaned as she got stuck behind a tractor-load of hay on the windy road that led from Mrs Mansfield’s towards Greystones. She wanted to be out of her uniform before Drew got to the house and have time to freshen up. This time of the year, getting stuck behind farm machinery and tractors was inevitable, but it was a nuisance all the same. Her fingers did a tap dance on the steering wheel as she slowed to a crawl.

Ten long minutes later, the tractor took a left turn, and she picked up speed again. Her eyes widened as she drove down the narrow road that led to her house and saw Drew’s jeep already there and the front lawn cut. He was leaning against the gate pillar, on the phone to someone, and he waved when he saw her pull up behind him.

‘Afternoon,’ he said, sliding the phone into the top pocket of his shirt as she got out of the car. ‘I was hoping this was the right house; otherwise someone I didn’t know at all was getting their grass cut. I got here a bit early, as the morning didn’t go as planned. If you let me in the back, I’ll get on with it.’ He was all businesslike.