Pompomberry House (38 page)

As a result of the publicity, Netta Lewis got her own chat
show on Channel 5 and promptly resigned from all Heart Africa-related
activities. Netta was not the only one to benefit from the publicity. Garden
gnomes also made a comeback.

Sultana Productions rushed the final cut of Montgomery’s
film. It was slated by every single national newspaper and, even worse, got
negative customer reviews.

Ricky Foster was so shaken up by the consequences of that
acting job, that he quit acting and became a handyman.

D.I. Forrester was awarded a promotion and bravery medal.
Nothing happened to D.I. Taylor.

After Rafe Maddocks’ post-mortem, Cornwall Council entered into
discussion with wildlife trusts about the growing seagull problem in the south
west.

Due to the unexpected demise of my co-writers, I became the
sole surviving author of
The Book of Most Quality Writers
. According to
a contract drawn up by Montgomery, it turned out that the royalties were mine
and mine alone.

My life could be quite different now, should I want it to
be. Over the years, I had imagined all the things I could do with a little extra
money: hire an editor, buy a more reliable printer, invest in a small print run
of
The Red River ... 
But one
million
pounds — that was
something I’d never even dreamt I might one day acquire.

I waited in the hospital foyer, speculating about the
future. If truth be told, there was only one thing that I wanted, and that
thing could not be bought, not with any amount of money.

A tall, lanky man with a shrinking beer belly commanded the
automatic doors. I watched in admiration. He was my hero. Thank goodness I’d
realised he was the love of my life
before
he saved it, otherwise I
might have had some seriously complicated feelings to work through.

Now that he’d saved me from death, the fact that he’d bought
a Scooby-Doo costume with my money seemed inconsequential. I noticed that he
now walked with just a touch of confidence, instead of the despondent slouch he
used to have. Now there was a man I could love for the rest of my life.

“Thanks for collecting me,” I smiled.

“Are you kidding?” he said with a big grin. He gave me a
massive hug, lifting me off the ground. Then he remembered my stitches and
gently returned me to earth.

I felt happy and loved once again. I beamed back at him.

Then he added, “I couldn’t have you missing our solicitor’s
meeting this afternoon.”

My heart fell out through my vagina. To survive all that,
for this?

“Solicitor’s meeting?” I stammered.

“I knew you’d forget.”

“I didn’t forget. I just didn’t realise it was today. Will
we even be back in time?”

“We could always postpone. That’s if you’re not up to it
today.”

“No, no, let’s do this.”

What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? Was my
pride really that important to me? The last time I had been too slow to tell
Gareth how I felt, I had ended up pushing him away. Why didn’t I say something?
Why didn’t I stop this while I still could?

I looked at my husband. Was it really impossible that he’d
forgiven me? Whilst he was visiting me every day in hospital, I had dared to
believe that we had moved past my brief four-legged frolic with Ricky-Biff.
However, if Gareth expected me to go to a legal meeting the moment I was
discharged from hospital, then presumably we hadn’t moved on at all.

Even so, I should say something. I should tell him how I
felt even if it meant I might be rejected. A little humiliation was a small
stake to gamble in a game where the top prize was years of happiness.

I looked at Gareth, dumbstruck, wishing that I could find
the words that I needed to tell him. I’d been talking to him for ten years. Why
was I speechless now?

“Or,” he said, with a big, friendly grin, “we could go home
instead.” My heart fluttered like a big, blood-pumping butterfly. Then he
quickly added, “I mean, just for some quick sexy time, or something.”

“I suppose we could,” I agreed, with fake indifference. Then
I quickly added, “Just for one last sexy time, I mean.”

“One last sexy time,” he echoed. Then, he winked and grabbed
my hand, pulling me urgently towards his car.

I tottered out of the hospital and across the car park, hand
in hand with my husband. I wondered what the future had in store for us. Life
might be very different now that I was a bestselling author and millionaire. I
wondered if it would change me. 

The End

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