Lola's House (Lola Series) (19 page)

‘You have a lot of fond memories of your grandparents?’
he says, carefully cutting off the first length ready to paste.

‘Yes, I spent a lot of time at their house when I was growing up, and later when
gran was ill.  My mom was never keen on girls so she used to send me out of the way as much as possible, but I never minded, the more time I got to spend with my grandparents the better as far as I was concerned. Gran always used to find things we could do together.  It was her that taught me how to sew and knit, she spent hours patiently sitting with me showing me the stitches, over and over until I got it right.  And she gave me my love of fashion.  She showed me how to spot good workmanship on garments, examining seams and stitching, quality of buttons, the hang of the fabric,’ I say, it feels like only yesterday that I had sat with her, hanging on to her every word of wisdom.

‘In fact, i
t was thanks to my gran that I started this shop.  She gave me my first batch of dresses and skirts and told me where to look to source more.  She loved clothes and was always impeccably turned out.’ I smile, thinking about her smoothing her skirts down and plucking off invisible threads.

‘Your face really ligh
ts up when you talk about them,’ he looks over at me, carefully folding the pasted paper so it won’t tear.

‘They were very special people,’ I say, wiping paste from my hands.
  I still feel very protective of their memories.

‘It must have hit you really hard when your
gran passed away.’ He smoothes the paper onto the back wall, pushing out the air bubbles from the middle out to the edges.

‘It did, I was heartbroken.  I knew it was coming but it never makes it any easier does it?’
I stop thinking back to the moment when I realised she was gone forever, how desolate I felt.

‘I guess not,’ he pauses, looking back at me.

‘I just feel so close to them at the house.  It’s like they’re still there guiding me along.  Although I’m not sure I always take their directions.’ I wipe the edges of the table to remove any splodges of paste.

‘You’re making good progress with the house, it’s all coming together.  And the shop has been busy whenever I have been in, that’s a good sign.’

‘Business has started to pick up, and we’ve got the internet side of things now.  Hopefully with the re-launch business will be booming,’ I say, standing back to study the newly covered strip of wall.

He c
omes down the ladder and wipes his hands on an old tea towel.  We both stand back together and admire the first drop of paper.  ‘Now, what do you think of that?’ he says.

‘I think it looks fantastic, but a bit lonely.  So we had bette
r get cracking with the rest,’ I say, breaking the spell.

He nudge
s me playfully in the side, and takes the next length of paper ready to paste.

Chapter Nineteen

I empt
y the last mouthful of wine from my glass and feel the warm liquid slipping down my throat, and then replace the glass on the breakfast bar where I am sitting on a high stool in Chrissie’s kitchen. The room is a shrine to modern technology and gleams with a host of high gloss cabinets.  The polar opposite of my kitchen which is a confusion of time periods with its rickety fixtures and fittings and a battered kitchen table that takes up the middle of the room. The wineglass is immediately topped up again.

‘Cheers,’ Chrissie sa
ys, as she sips from her own glass.  ‘So my initial thought was to get the wedding sorted and get Cal down the aisle, job done, before he has chance to change his mind.  You know I can be a bit impetuous.’

‘A bit?’
I say, snorting into my wine glass.

‘Okay, I know, you don’t need to remind me.’
She shoots me a death stare. 

‘Just saying, that’s all.’  I retreat back on my stool and pick up a samosa from the plate in front of me.

‘Anyway, once I’d had a chance to slow down and see things in perspective I realised it would be silly to be so rash.’  She tosses chicken pieces into the pan which start to sizzle and spit as they hit the hot oil.  ‘I want to get married properly – you know spend time organising the reception and choose bridesmaid dresses, flowers and cake.  That’s half the fun isn’t it?’

‘Absolutely,’ I sa
y, taking another mouthful of samosa.  ‘These are bloody fantastic, did you make them?’

‘No, I got them from an Indian lady at work, good aren’t they?’
she says, leaving the pan to sizzle away while she takes another sip of wine.

‘Definitely
,’ I say, taking another bite of crisp wafer thin pastry and feel the spicy vegetables bursting through.

‘So, we have decided to get married next summer,’ she sa
ys, replacing the glass on the countertop amongst the jars of herbs and spices.

‘Thank goodness for that, I’m not sure I can do another hen weekend just yet.  But I’m really pleased for you Chrissie – I just knew
the two of you should be together, forever.’ I smile at her.

‘I know, and I hate to get all soppy, but I’m happier than I’ve ever been.’  She thr
ows some more spices in the pan with the chicken.  ‘We just need to sort you out now.’

‘Me?  I thought I was sorted,’ I stop, my glass half way to my mouth.

‘I meant properly sorted,’ she replies, adding yogurt to the pan.  ‘Has James moved in yet?’

‘No, I haven’t seen him much this
week, he’s been in London again.’ I pick up a magazine and flick through it, my eyes kept firmly away from her gaze. 

‘Didn’t you say he was clearing his schedule to spend more time with you?’
She stops again, her focus firmly on me.

‘
I know,’ I groan a little inside, having to explain James’ shortcoming never feels very good to me.  ‘He did until I mentioned the work we were doing at the shop then he disappeared again.  You know James doesn’t do manual work.’

She roll
s her eyeballs upwards.  ‘Well we wouldn’t want him to ruin his manicure would we?’

‘Don’t be like that – he does have his good side.’ Why
is it only me who ever saw the good in James?

‘Well if you think so then I’m sure it must be true.’
I know from her tone she doesn’t believe me.

I bit
e my lip, I don’t want to get into defensive mode with Chrissie. We had had far too many heated discussions about James lately, and I certainly don’t want to fall out because of it.  A swift subject change is in order.  ‘Anyway, as it happens, I had help from other quarters.’

‘Robert?
’  She stops what she is doing, and her face lights up with expectation.

‘The very same.
  He turned up at the shop last night and insisted on helping out.  We were there till nearly eleven o’clock putting the new wallpaper up.’ I know this will impress her, I only have to mention his name and she goes visibly gooey. 

‘Now there’s a guy who would be very good with his hands.’  A faraway look
takes over her eyes while she retreats into her imagination.

‘I’m sure he would be for someone.’  I dab my mouth with the linen napkin.  ‘Anyway, you can stop any speculation in that area.  He went on a date on Wednesday night, and never came home that night at all.’

‘Oh my God, the dirty stop out.  Who was he with?’ she says, leaning on the counter on her elbows, now I have her full attention.

‘I don’t know and I didn’t like to ask too many questions.’  I
am actually dying to know who he had spent the night with.

‘Lucky bitch whoever she is.’  We both
go into our own private worlds, far away looks on our faces, while we ponder what it would be like being with Robert. 

I fan my face with a placemat and Chrissie dishe
s up the chicken tikka onto two plates and puts a bowl of rice onto the breakfast bar.

‘So, James gets home on Saturday and he said he wants to show me something.’ I spoon rice onto my plate, quite
chuffed with myself that James is making an effort.

‘Oh, any clues to what it is?’
she says, wriggling onto the stool next to me.

‘No, but he said it would be really exciting.’
I actually feel really pleased telling her this.  Maybe she will stop having a downer on him now.

‘Maybe he’s buying you an engagement ring?’
Chrissie thinks for a moment. 

‘No.’  I brush this aside quickly as I ha
ve never mentioned James’ earlier proposal for fear of upsetting her during her break up with Cal, and since it had been safely deflected I don’t see much point bringing it up.  ‘We’re not in that place at the moment, but I just can’t think what else he would be up to, it’s really exciting.’

‘Hmm intriguing.’
  We both fall silent as we tuck into the chicken.

I turn off the hairdryer and check my reflection in the mirror.  My hair falls around my shoulders in soft waves and I swish it back and forwards.  Definitely a good hair day, I smile to myself.  I spray on a touch of hairspray to hold down the flyaways and then put the hairdryer away.  After applying mascara and a touch of lip gloss I go to the wardrobe and pull out a black shift dress, a single pink bloom festooned across the front, with the pattern repeated on the back of the dress.  I slip it over my head and grab a pair of black patent stilettos.  I check my reflection again in the mirror and nod to myself, satisfied I look good enough for lunch somewhere nice but not too over the top for work.  I throw on some glass beads my Gran had given me, slip bangles on my wrist, grab my Lulu Guinness handbag and I am ready to go.

I
am poised to open the bedroom door when there’s a sharp rapping from the other side.  I open it to find Robert standing there, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his middle.

Hand on heart, I
can honestly say, I did try not to check out his body, but my eyes have an agenda of their own and scan over his chest down to the line of dark hair that disappears into the front of his towel. 

‘Hi, Robert,’ I say, feeling
myself flushing at the sight of him. 

‘Do you mind if I use the shower up here?  The one downstairs has packed up.’ He ha
s that crooked grin again.

‘Packed up?  What’s wrong with it?’ I sa
y, trying not to let my eyes wander down to his towel again, and definitely not thinking about the body underneath it.

‘I don’t know, it’s just running cold and I’ve got to be out in fifteen minutes,’ he sa
ys.  Maybe I could do with a cold shower myself.

He look
s me up and down and smiles.  ‘You look nice, no work today?’

‘Oh, yes,’ I swiftly pull myself together.  ‘I’m meeting James for lunch later.  He’s taking me out for a surprise.’ 

‘Nice, well enjoy yourselves.  I’d better get sorted.’  He trips off down the landing towards the bathroom, and I get a view of his broad back and long legs striding away.  ‘Oh, I left you a bacon roll in the kitchen, didn’t think you’d been down for any breakfast yet.’

‘Oh thanks, Robert, you must be a mind reader, I’m starved and I don’t have time to make anything.’ I pull my bedroom door closed.

‘You’re welcome,’ he says, grinning from behind the bathroom door.  ‘Catch you later.’

I wave as the bathroom door closes and then
run off down the stairs as fast as my stilettos will allow.

James arrives at the shop just after one.  I grab my jacket and we leave through the front door.  I look at James questioningly as we trot off down the high street.  ‘Are we not going in the car?’

‘No, I thought we would just nip into the coffee shop and have a bite,’ he sa
ys, striding off.

‘But I thought we were going somewhere exciting?  That’s why I dressed up.’
I look down at my dress and heels.

‘I said I wanted to show you something exciting,’ he sa
ys, grabbing my hand and kissing me roughly on the lips.  ‘But you’re looking really hot.’

I fe
el a little deflated as we enter the coffee shop. Overdressed is an understatement.  I pull my jacket a little closer around my body self consciously.  And I’m feeling more than a little bit cheated having been expecting lunch out somewhere fancy.  Why else would I have dressed up and put skyscraper heels on?  I suppose that would teach me to jump to conclusions.

James s
its me down at a free table while he goes up to the counter and orders coffee and sandwiches.  When he finally sits down with me I am dying to know what the big secret is. 

I look
at him expectantly.  ‘So, James?’

‘All in good time, babe.’
  He waits patiently while the coffees are bought to the table, followed by two plates of sandwiches.  The waitress seems to take forever fussing around at the table, smiling at James and him giving her his cheeky grin in return.  I just feel irritated by her presence and want her to be gone.    Finally, after what seems like an age, she leaves the table.

I
take a sip of my coffee and shoot another look at James, imploring him to tell me what is so important.  James is so busy examining the inside of his sandwich he doesn’t notice my looks and by now I am ready to burst.

‘Can you believe the amount of mayo on this sandwich, I specifically said I only wanted a light spread,’ he sa
ys, frowning.

‘Screw the sandwich
, James,’ I reply, impatience getting the better of me.  I press his hand down to close the sandwich.  ‘Just tell me what you have to tell me.’

‘Oh right, of course.’  He
takes a bite and chews slowly.  I roll my eyeballs skywards in exasperation. 

‘Okay, I want you to give this some serious thought,’ he sa
ys, in between chews.  ‘Don’t just dismiss it without giving it due consideration.’

‘Well maybe I had better hear it first.’  I
take a bite out of my sandwich to stop anything further coming out of my mouth. 

He bl
ows on his coffee sending ripples across the surface before taking a tentative sip, smacking his lips together and then taking another sip.

‘Somet
ime today would be nice, James,’ I say, straining to hide my irritation any longer.

With that he pull
s a folded brochure from his man bag and places it in front of me with a flourish.  I look down at the glossy picture of Ayres Rock on the cover and then look back up at him, confusion furrowing my brow.  ‘A holiday?’

He shuffle
s his chair round the table until he is sitting next to me, and grabs my hand tightly.  ‘No, not any old holiday.  A six month tour of Australia, luxury accommodation, all planned out in fine detail, taking in all major cities.’

‘Six months?’ I sa
y, my jaw almost hitting the table.

‘Yes, it’s a trip of a lifetime.’ He
squeezes my hand excitedly.

‘And it would take a lifetime to pay for it,’ I sa
y, pulling my hand back.  ‘I can’t take six months off, James.  Especially for an expansive holiday that I know I couldn’t afford.’

‘That’s the beauty of it, d
on’t be so hasty, Lola.’  He grabs hold of my hand again.  ‘I was thinking, you said the shop has been quiet and not doing so well, so why don’t you sell up and then we could take off?’

‘Sell up?  Why
on earth would I want to sell my business? I love that shop,’ I say, pulling my hand away and putting it out of his reach.

‘But you said it wasn’t doing so well?’ His face look
s so earnest I can almost convince myself it is me being unreasonable.

‘It wasn’t, but now it is again.  That happens in business, you have highs and lows.  You should know that.  I’m not going to bail out for the sake of a holiday.  What about my house?  I’m in the middle of renovations?’
My face is set in stone and I can literally feel the blood thundering through my veins.