Take a Chance on Me (25 page)

Cleo swung round as the door opened. Oh well, it wasn’t as if Johnny hadn’t seen the cuts to her face before. Hastily, she scrubbed with her napkin at the stain on her top. Then Johnny appeared and the sight of him prompted her strongest-yet adrenaline rush. Oh God, she’d really got it bad. He was wearing a white cotton shirt over a navy T-shirt and age-softened Levis. His dark hair was flopping over his forehead, his profile was chiseled and gorgeous, and he was laughing at a comment someone to the left of him had just made.

Then his previously obscured companion moved into view and the fizzing excitement deflated like a popped balloon. Not only was the girl tall, blond, and ridiculously attractive, but Cleo knew who she was. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet, she knew far more than she wanted to know. Because this was Honor Donaldson, one of Australia’s most famous exports. She was a plus-size supermodel, just short of six feet tall and not remotely plus-size in terms of the real world. But with her lusciously voluptuous size twelve curves and flawless gilded skin, she had taken the modeling industry by storm. Then, when interviews followed and her vivacious character had become known, the rest of the world had fallen in love with her too.

One other small detail about her had come to Cleo’s attention while she’d been—oh the shame of it—Googling Johnny. This was that prior to his return to Channings Hill, for several months he and Honor had been a couple.

And now here she was, making Johnny laugh and holding his hand. Not to mention looking out-of-this-world stunning.

No, no, no, this isn’t meant to happen.

Next to Cleo, Ash frowned and said, ‘Isn’t that thingy?’

‘Yes.’ If only she looked like a thingy.

‘Oh my God!’ Abandoning her game of pool, Georgia exclaimed, ‘Are you Honor Donaldson? I love you!’

‘Sweetie, thanks so much! And look at you, you’re so gorgeous!’ Honor, whose ability to charm was legendary, smiled at Georgia as if it was the nicest compliment she’d ever received. ‘Hey, I like it here already! Johnny, you have to introduce me to
everyone
.’ Even her voice was beautiful; she sounded like Nicole Kidman.

‘Don’t worry, I will. Just let me get some drinks in first.’ For a brief moment Johnny’s gaze met Cleo’s and she saw him attempt to signal something… God knows what… with his eyes, before turning back to the bar.

‘Wow,’ murmured Ash.

Cleo realized that Fia was standing right beside her, a tray of dirty plates in her hands and a look of dismay on her face as she took in the sight of Johnny and Honor together. Evidently she wasn’t the only one who’d just had her hopes dashed.

Under her breath Fia muttered, ‘This is so unfair.’

Then Cleo saw the utter devastation in Ash’s eyes, because more than anything he wanted Fia to feel that way about
him
. And it was clear that she never would. He was about as desirable, as far as she was concerned, as a mouldy old fridge.

Cleo zipped up her handbag, because a dab of powder was no longer worth even bothering with. It was a toss-up who she felt more sorry for, Ash or herself.

Within minutes, much like the dreaming-you-were-naked scenario where you prayed no-one would notice, Johnny brought Honor Donaldson over to meet them. Up close she was even more golden, sheeny, and jaw-droppingly beautiful. She was wearing a casual outfit of loose sand-colored linen trousers, a paler sandy-gold top, cream waistcoat, and espadrilles. Her hair was every shade of gold, her eyes chestnut brown.

‘Oh my Lord, look at your face! And your neck! You poor
thing
.’ Honor shook her head in sympathy. ‘Are you the one who had the accident?’

What else could she say? Cleo nodded. ‘That was me.’

‘Johnny
told
me about it. Casey Kruger, right? I met him a couple of years back. Jeez, what an annoying little tit.’

Cleo’s heart sank, because she’d wanted to dislike her. But how could you not love someone who said that? ‘Well, yes.’ It certainly summed Casey up.

‘Anyway, great to meet you. It’s so cool to finally be here, after hearing Johnny talk about this place for so long.’ As she spoke, Honor leaned back against Johnny’s chest, tilting her head affectionately towards his. ‘And it’s fantastic to be back with Johnny. I bet he’s kept some of the girls around here on their toes, am I right?’

Cleo was numb. She said faintly, ‘Oh I’m sure he has.’ Next to her, Ash was having trouble keeping his eyes off Honor’s goddess-like cleavage. OK, now she definitely knew who she felt more sorry for. And it wasn’t Ash.

In the harshly lit toilets, Cleo surveyed her reflection in the mirror. Flat chest, beige plastic neck brace, attractive mushroom sauce stain on T-shirt, face full of healing cuts. Nice. It was pointless but she took the mini powder compact out of her bag anyway and attempted to cover the unsightly marks.

If anything, that looked even worse, bumpy and seriously amateurish. Hopeless, hopeless. And what did it matter now, anyway?

Outside the toilets, she bumped into Johnny.
Of course
.

‘I just wanted to say sorry.’ He forced her to look at him. ‘None of this was planned. Honor turned up out of the blue… but, you know, she’s here now…’

Oh God, did this come under the category of Being Let Down Gently? Nausea crawled up Cleo’s throat. It did, didn’t it? His conscience had been pricking him, forcing him to acknowledge that up until recently he might have considered having a bit of a fling with her, but things were different now. His old girlfriend was back in his life and she just happened to be one of the most desired females in the world. So basically she, Cleo, had to understand that in comparison… well, sorry, there
was
no comparison. At all. End of.

Luckily these thoughts ricocheted through her mind in a nanosecond. Without missing a beat she was able to say breezily, ‘Hey, no need to apologize. Honor’s great, and she’s so friendly. And it’s about time you got yourself a nice girl and settled down. You’re not so young as you used to be, after all!’

It actually sounded pretty convincing, even if she did say so herself.

‘Thanks.’ Johnny’s gaze dropped to her front; was he looking at the mushroom sauce stain or at her sadly inferior breasts? ‘Well, that’s it, I just needed to explain.’ Eager to change the subject he went on hurriedly, ‘Anyway, how are you? How’s the neck?’

Cleo’s hand went up to the padded plastic contraption that was currently holding her head on her shoulders and forcing her to walk around looking as if she had a poker up her bottom. Cheerily she said, ‘Not so bad.’

Unlike her heart
.

‘It could have been worse.’ He looked as if he wanted to say more, but Cleo couldn’t bear it. Her control was in danger of slipping and the only option was to head back to the bar before she said or did something she’d regret.

As the door swung shut behind them, she saw that Honor was busy getting a round in. Waving across, she called out, ‘Cleo, there you are! Another white wine?’

‘Um, no thanks.’

‘Oh go on, we’re all having a drink! Please let me get you one.’

OK, slightly surreal. Honor Donaldson, Australian supermodel, was begging to buy her a drink. Under other circumstances it would have been the highlight of her year.

But not when Honor had just triumphantly reclaimed the man she, Cleo, had been on the brink of plunging into a relationship with. No matter how unsuitable and doomed to disaster that relationship would undoubtedly have turned out to be. He had captured her heart, and maybe it wasn’t completely shattered, but it definitely now had a crack in it.

‘I’d love to,’ Cleo lied, ‘but I’m shattered. I really need to get home.’

‘She’s a lightweight,’ Ash explained to Honor. See? The presence of Fia rendered him practically mute but with Honor, whom he evidently didn’t fancy, he was completely relaxed.

‘And I’m taking strong painkillers that don’t mix with alcohol.’ Waving goodbye to everyone, Cleo said to Honor, ‘Why don’t you ask Ash to tell you what happened when he tried it?’

Outside the pub she stopped and gulped down lungfuls of cold air. At least she’d left with some shreds of dignity intact. Because a few more drinks and those shreds could so easily have deserted her.

And then where were you?

Rolling in the gutter with your knickers on show, like Auntie Jean.

***

It was eleven-fifteen and Frank was kicking everyone out. Which was absolutely a good thing. Ash approved of this plan, particularly seeing as he had to be up at five to get to work. And he’d already had four… no, five… actually more like six or seven pints of lager tonight.

OK, maybe eight but definitely no more than that.

Eight pints. That meant a raging headache and having to take a taxi to the radio station tomorrow morning. Oh well, sometimes you just had to drink your own bodyweight in Kronenburg and suffer the consequences.

And tonight this was what Ash had been compelled to do. Witnessing Fia’s reaction to Honor Donaldson’s arrival had hit him like a lorryload of bricks. Fia was besotted with Johnny. Fat ugly radio presenters didn’t get a look in. If he’d ever seriously thought she might change her mind about him, he could give up now.

Anyway, sod it; there was always good old alcohol to soften the blow. And Fia wasn’t the only fish in the sea, was she? Other girls found him attractive. Well, one in particular did.

‘Ooh, I’m cold.’ As they left the pub, Georgia pretended to shiver and snuggled up against him. ‘Brrrrrr.’

Tom was beckoning her over. ‘Georgia? Come on, let’s get home.’

‘It’s OK, Dad. Ash is lending me a DVD so I’m just going back with him to pick it up.’

‘But—’

‘Dad, I’m fine! And I’ve got my key.’ Georgia held it up to show him. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

Tom hesitated, clearly torn. Then he turned and strode off into the darkness.

Ash frowned. ‘What DVD?’

‘
Mamma Mia!
’

‘What am I, some sort of girl? I don’t have
Mamma Mia!’

‘No? Oh well, I’ll borrow something else then. I’m not fussy.’

By the time they reached his house, Georgia had made her intentions crystal clear. She’d tried it on before, but each time Ash had fobbed her off. She wasn’t his type, she was only eighteen, he didn’t remotely fancy her, silly little reasons like that…

But that had been back when he’d still held out hope that Fia might come to her senses and give him a chance to persuade her he had his good points.

And this was now.

Once inside the cottage, Georgia said brightly, ‘Got anything to drink?’

‘Um, there’s a couple of beers in the fridge.’ What the hell, one more wouldn’t make any difference. Ash collapsed onto the sofa and said, ‘Can you go and get them? And the DVDs are in that cupboard over there. Borrow anything you like.’

Moments later, Georgia reappeared in the living room doorway, an opened bottle in each hand, silver-blond hair illuminated by the hall light behind her. ‘I like you.’ Pause. ‘Does that mean I’m allowed to borrow you?’

Ash held her gaze. Normally at this point, he’d make some flippant remark about her having to pay a fine if she didn’t return him on time. But he wasn’t in a flippant mood. Georgia was a willful, entertaining eighteen-year-old who knew exactly what she wanted and went for it. She was pretty too; how many men would turn her down?

He didn’t have to say a word. As if reading his mind, she crossed the room and put the bottles down out of the way. The next moment, like a small, turbo-powered heat-seeking missile, she was pinning him to the cushions with her arms planted either side of his shoulders, kissing him determinedly on the mouth.

Crikey, she meant business.

‘I knew you’d change your mind in the end.’ Pulling back for a moment, Georgia smiled at him.

The words reverberated in Ash’s head. Ironically, they were what he’d envisaged saying to Fia when she eventually succumbed to his charms. But seeing as that wasn’t going to happen, he wouldn’t dwell on it now. Georgia had a lithe dancer’s body and how many men would turn her down? Reaching for her, he said, ‘Do you always get what you want?’

Her eyes sparkled triumphantly. ‘Oh yes.’

Except this time, it turned out not to be true. He kissed her again, but in his mind’s eye all he could see was Fia. Most men might not let that bother them, but Ash knew he wasn’t like most men. Maybe it was old fashioned in this day and age—OK, maybe it was downright laughable—but he never had been a fan of casual sex. If he slept with Georgia now, he would just be using her. And what effect would it have on their relationship after tonight?

‘Look, I’m sorry.’ Ash shook his head regretfully. ‘I can’t do this.’

She looked surprised. ‘Why not?’

‘It just doesn’t feel right. We’re
friends
.’

‘But we could be more than friends!’

‘No. It would be spoiled, trust me. It’s not going to happen.’ Gently he shifted her off his lap.

Georgia, her blonde hair tousled, saw that he meant it. ‘Well,
this
has never happened to me before.’

‘It’s not you. It’s me,’ said Ash.

‘Well
duh
, I know that!’

‘I mean, you’re a beautiful girl. You haven’t done anything wrong.’

‘I know that too. Oh God,’ Georgia blurted out, ‘I like you so much! I really wanted us to do it!’

‘Sorry. I don’t know what else to say.’

She shook her head. ‘I heard you on your show last week, going on about how you were shy. And I thought maybe that explained why you kept giving me the brush-off. So I decided the next opportunity that came up, I’d grab it.’

Ash smiled slightly at the unfortunate turn of phrase. She very nearly had.

‘Well, that was the plan, anyway.’ Rising to her feet, Georgia reached for her bag and slung it over her shoulder. ‘Oh well, at least I gave it a try.’

Her tone was good-natured now. Ash stood up, relieved. ‘You did. And you’re a fantastic girl. Come on, I’ll walk you home.’

‘You don’t have to. I can make my own way.’

‘Hey, I know you can.’ He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. ‘But I’m a gentleman, so let me do it anyway. Please.’

***

Unable to sleep, Fia crept out of bed, padded down to the kitchen, and made herself a cup of tea. Having carried it back upstairs she pulled open the bedroom curtains and settled herself onto the cushioned window seat. It was the first place she’d ever lived that had a proper view, rather than just looking across to the other side of the street. From here, high up in the eaves of the pub, she was able to gaze out over the village green and the houses surrounding it. Then there were the hills, dotted with lights, rising up in the distance. It was a gorgeous sight.

But Fia was too unsettled to enjoy it. She was on edge for two reasons. Sipping her tea, she wondered what to do about the text she had received as she’d been getting ready for bed.

Hi, hope all’s well. Molly and Rob send hugs. They miss you and would love to see you. Maybe this weekend?

Love Will x

When she’d read the text, her eyes had filled with tears. Fond though she’d been of Rob and Molly, dear though they were to her, they hadn’t been
hers
. Upon leaving Will, she had kind of assumed that she wouldn’t see them again. But how unbearably sad must it be for children in that situation, the products of broken marriages, to endlessly be forced to adjust each time new partners appeared in their parents’ lives?

Fia rubbed her face. She
had
missed Rob and Molly. But the prospect of seeing Will again was less enticing.

So that was one thing occupying her mind. Then there was Johnny and Honor Donaldson. Their arrival in the pub this evening—Honor’s arrival back in Johnny’s life—had knocked her for six. Her hopes and fantasies had been dashed, because who could begin to compete with someone like that? Talk about a reality check.

She took a sip of tea. It had been weird in the pub tonight. And what had been going on between Ash and Georgia, for heaven’s sake? Ash had been knocking back drinks like nobody’s business and Georgia had been even more openly adoring than usual. It was an odd situation, without a doubt. And they’d left the pub together, although nothing would have happened, surely. Of course it wouldn’t; Tom had been there with them. Oh God, so much to think about, no wonder she couldn’t sleep…

Across the green, a front door opened and golden light spilled out. Pressing her forehead against the cool glass, Fia peered through the window as two instantly recognizable figures emerged from Ash’s cottage. Ash and Georgia made their way down the front path and headed off along the lane. Their heads were bent together, they were talking intently, Georgia’s arm was around Ash’s waist, and his was wrapped around her shoulders. At one point they stopped and Ash planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Fia jerked back from the window, feeling as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She had no idea why the sight of them should make her feel like that, but the jolt was undeniably there.

She watched, condensation from her hot breath forming on the glass, as the two of them made their way towards Georgia’s house. They looked like a couple, which was something she hadn’t expected to happen. And they’d just spent time together in Ash’s cottage…

When they moved out of view, Fia stayed where she was. Her tea grew tepid as she went over the various events in her mind. A fox slunk across the road and disappeared into a garden. An owl hooted in the distance and the more accustomed her eyes grew to the darkness, the more stars Fia was able to see glittering in the velvety dark sky. Eventually, Ash reappeared, strolling along with his hands in his pockets. Illuminated by the orange glow of the streetlight, he paused then turned and for a moment seemed to be gazing directly at Fia. She shrank back, heart thudding, but of course he wasn’t looking at her; he’d either heard the fox sloping through the undergrowth or was simply looking at the pub.

Then he headed on up the lane to his cottage, unlocked the front door, and disappeared inside.

Sliding off the window seat, Fia closed the curtains and climbed back into bed. After the amount of lager he’d sunk tonight, Ash was going to have his work cut out putting together a good show in the morning.

***

‘Is it weird to be asking you this?’ When she’d finished running through the whole Will’s-children scenario, Fia looked at Cleo. ‘I want to see Rob and Molly again, but I can’t bear the thought of spending time with them
and
Will. And wouldn’t they find that confusing? I’d hate them to think we might be getting back together.’

Cleo nodded. ‘So why don’t you tell him that? Say you’d like to take the kids out on your own.’

‘I know. And I
could
do that. But the thing is, it’s months since I last saw them. And I’ve never actually done anything with them on my own. Every time they came over, Will was always there. He’s their dad. I’d love to see them, but I don’t know if it’d feel a bit funny.’ Fia pulled a face. ‘And I’m not really sure what I’d do with them either. There’s the cinema, but then we’d just be sitting in the dark watching a film. And they’re sick to death of the zoo…’

Eek, the zoo…

Cleo was looking at her curiously. ‘Are you blushing?’

Good grief, the mere thought of the zoo was enough to set her off; that penguin dream was destined to haunt her for life. Fia vigorously flapped the collar of her shirt. ‘I’m just panicking, wondering what to do.’

Cleo thought for a moment. ‘OK, how about Sunday afternoon?’

Fia nodded; having already asked Frank for time off, this she could do. If she prepared and cooked the lunches beforehand, he’d agreed to take care of the rest. ‘I can be free from one o’clock onwards.’

‘Right.’ Pressing a button on her phone, Cleo said, ‘Hi Shelley, what’s Saskia up to on Sunday? Nothing? Ask her if she’d like to come out with her lovely Auntie Cleo. Great, I’ll see her at one o’clock. Bye!’

She hung up and nodded triumphantly at Fia. ‘There, all sorted, we’ll go together. You, me and the kids. It’s Treasure Hunt day—they’ll love it.’

‘God, thanks.’ Fia was touched. ‘That’s really nice of you.’

‘I know!’ Cleo beamed, delighted with herself. ‘Well, I haven’t seen Sass for a while, so we’re due a day out. And I’m signed off work until next week, what with being so scary to look at.’

‘You aren’t.’ Which was nearly true; the unsightly marks on Cleo’s face were lessening day by day. ‘Anyway, a treasure hunt sounds perfect. Where’s it held?’

‘Marcombe Arboretum.’

Fia clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘The Father Christmas place?’

‘I know, but that’s where they have them.’ Breaking into a grin, Cleo said, ‘I’d call it kind of apt.’