The Secret of Happy Ever After (41 page)

Phil’s concerns about Owen finally surfaced properly the night before.

‘Is he trustworthy?’ he whispered over the hum of the electric fan, which was moving the hot air around the bed, not cooling them. ‘Does he have his own car? And what kind of car is it? Has Becca been in it?’

‘This obsession with his car is saying more about you than it is about Owen,’ Anna hissed back. ‘What kind of teenager
were
you?’

‘An opportunist one with a Mini Clubman. It was my secret weapon.’ He lay back glumly on the pillows. ‘My little girl. Leaving school. Can you tell Michelle to tell Owen to keep his hands to himself?’

‘And how exactly do you propose I frame that request to my boss?’ Anna asked crossly, and Phil shushed her.

She rolled over onto her side of the bed, and he rolled over onto his. The coolest part of the bed, thought Anna, as she tried to plump the heat out of her pillow, was the ever-increasing trench in the middle.

To his credit, when Owen arrived at the front door of the McQueen house, he played the role of dashing-but-reliable escort to a point just short of self-parody.

His dark hair was neater than Anna had seen it before, though still tousled, and he’d found a forest green velvet dinner jacket that gave him a 70s era James Bond panache, far beyond what the Longhampton youth in their dad’s old dinner jackets would be pulling off. He’d shaved, and although one or two leather bracelets were still visible under the crisp white shirt cuff, he smelled clean and fresh, and exuded a handsome eagerness that made Anna wistful for her own university life, where everyone’s scrubbed-up finery was a fairytale transformation from their artfully scruffy daytime looks.

He’d also brought flowers for Becca to pin on her dress, and some for Anna, which he gave her with a shameless smile.

‘Thought I’d err on the safe side,’ he said, following her into the kitchen where she’d chilled a bottle of champagne to toast them. ‘Michelle always told me it’s best to give flowers for no reason.’

‘She was right.’ Anna eyed him, hoping Michelle had given him other advice too. Owen was being charming. Too charming?

Phil appeared behind Anna, with Becca following behind him, suddenly shy, and watching Owen’s face for his reaction.

Anna knew Becca looked beautiful in her simple red column dress, bought from eBay and adjusted by Michelle’s secret tailor, but the expression on Owen’s face was better than a mirror. His eyes widened in admiration, but then blinked rapidly, presumably as he clocked Phil’s reaction to his reaction.

‘You look amazing,’ he said, quietly, and Becca beamed. Anna had to wipe away a sneaky tear.

‘Getting Becca ready’ had been a happy afternoon for Anna and the girls, with lots of make-up and Diet Coke and pop music and nail varnish for all. Chloe had generously offered a loan of her spare hair extensions and bronzing pearls, but Becca had politely demurred – without hurting her little sister’s feelings, for once – and had instead gone for a very simple elegance. Her shiny brown hair was pinned up in a messy bun, and she wore the Tiffany heart necklace Phil had given her for her eighteenth birthday. Becca moved carefully in her high heels and long dress, as if she was feeling her way around an unfamiliar side of herself as much as the unfamiliar outfit, and Anna’s heart burst with pride when Becca asked if she could do her make-up for her. They were sharing something new, the four of them, and she was touched to be part of it.

‘Now, Owen,’ said Phil as Anna handed round flutes of champagne. ‘You’re going to take care of her, aren’t you? I’m her dad. She might have mentioned me. And my black belt in karate.’

‘Daaaad,’ groaned Becca.

Owen’s eyes flicked nervously towards her – Anna hadn’t seen him nervous before – but Becca shook her head.

‘He’s winding you up,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t even have a black belt in . . . in his
jeans
.’

‘Good.’ Owen held out a hand. Phil shook it, looking slightly taken aback by the firm enthusiasm of Owen’s handshake and the appearance of a leather bracelet. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll have her back before the car turns into a pumpkin.’

‘And what time’s that?’ asked Phil. ‘Midnight?’

‘One thirty,’ said Becca.

‘One o’clock,’ said Anna.

‘But it doesn’t finish until one . . .’

‘One o’clock,’ said Owen, with a swift glance at Anna.

‘Cheers! To your first ball, Becca!’ she said, lifting her flute, but the moment was immediately broken by the arrival of Chloe and Lily, both clamouring for their own glasses ‘to try’.

Chloe was also singing ‘My Heart Will Go On’, but with rather suspect lyrics.

‘Now, Owen, what kind of car are you taking her in?’ asked Phil, as if this was the most important element of the night.

A horn honking outside prevented Owen from answering.

‘I’ll go,’ said Chloe, who, Anna noticed suddenly, was also dressed up to go out.

‘Chloe, where are you . . . ?’ she started, but Chloe was gone. Phil didn’t meet her eye when she looked at him, and she knew permission had been granted already. She was annoyed; Chloe going out meant that she’d have to be collected from somewhere. Phil could have checked with her first.

Owen, Becca, Phil and Anna stood looking at each other, not quite sure what to say.

‘I’m having a prom tonight,’ Lily announced. ‘It’s very exclusive. Everyone’s had to find a partner, and Mrs Piggle has two dates because she doesn’t want to let anyone down.’ She turned to Anna. ‘It’s OK for her to have two dates, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘Maybe one is her first husband. And the second is her handsome lover.’

Becca laughed and turned it into a cough when Phil looked askance.

‘Oh my God,’ screeched Chloe from the front door. ‘Oh my actual God, you are not going to believe what’s outside!’

‘What is it?’ Phil looked straight at Owen. ‘I hope it’s suitable . . .’

‘Michelle arranged the transport for tonight,’ said Owen. ‘She said it’s her treat. She spoke to Dad and he said he’d find something appropriate, so I honestly don’t know what’s going to be out there.’

‘I trust it’s not a stretch Hummer,’ said Phil darkly. ‘Or anything with blacked-out windows. Or a minibar.’

He made to reach for Owen’s glass but Anna stopped him as discreetly as she could.

Chloe came running in, her eyes round with excitement. ‘Anna, you have so got to come and see this! They are
so
going to make everyone die with jealousy when they see what they’re going in. They’ll think Cheryl Cole’s arrived.

Owen held out his arm to Becca and she took it, only looking at him very quickly. Anna couldn’t help it; despite every misgiving in her head, her heart was yelling that they made a beautiful couple.

Parked outside their house, the engine idling with a throaty rumble, was a long sleek sports car, dark green with blood red seats. Between their Espace and next door’s old Land Rover, it looked like a cheetah in the dog park.

Anna heard Phil make a faint noise of schoolboy longing.

‘You’d better tell me what it is,’ she said. ‘Because I have no idea.’

‘It’s an Aston Martin Rapide,’ he moaned. ‘I didn’t even know you could buy them. I thought they were like unicorns or something.’

‘Who’s driving it?’ Chloe demanded, as the driver’s door opened and a man in a peaked cap got out. ‘Is he, like, the chauffeur?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Anna. ‘That’s very responsible. So you can drink, I mean – not excessively, of course . . .’

‘Oh, very good!’ roared Owen. ‘I know who that is! Harvey, you joker!’ He strode forward with his hand already extended and clapped the chauffeur on the back. ‘I can’t believe it! This is so good of you!’

‘Well, I had a look at what Charlie was going to send up, and I thought, no, no, no. Can’t have my favourite brother-in-law turning up in anything less than an Aston.’ The man’s voice was rich and confident, with a London edge. He swept the hat off to reveal a thick head of blond hair and an affable sort of face, albeit with a red band where the hat had been.

Anna stared, trying to take in as many details as she could without looking obvious. So this was Harvey? He wasn’t how she’d imagined. She’d assumed, for some reason, that Harvey would be lean and hungry, a car salesman with ambition and a sharp suit, all jargon and sexy money talk. This man looked like a regular at the rugby club, the guy who always drank the yard of ale in under two minutes. He didn’t seem the type of man you’d be scared of. Not the way Michelle seemed to shrink whenever she mentioned him.

Anna couldn’t imagine him with Michelle at all. And yet how long had they been together? Seven years? It gave her a strange, tilting feeling, that maybe she didn’t know her friend as well as she’d thought.

Phil was looking at her too, with a ‘This is
him
?’ look, which he wiped off his face when Owen turned back, grinning.

‘Phil, Anna, this is Harvey, my brother-in-law. Harvey,’ he continued, ‘this is Phil, Anna, and my beautiful date for the evening, Rebecca.’

‘Lucky chap! Pleased to meet you.’ Harvey shook hands with an extra over-the-top-hand-clasp, the mark of a car salesman, thought Anna. ‘My own car, by the way,’ he added, as if it didn’t really need an explanation. ‘I love this chap like a brother but there’s no way I’d let him drive my Rapide!’

‘Why? Is he dangerous behind the wheel?’ Phil demanded.

‘No, no. She’s just my pride and joy. Fancy a spin later?’

‘Well, we’re not going out . . .’

Phil’s protective father act was wilting very fast in the presence of the car. Anna gave him a nudge. ‘Shall we let them get away?’ she said. ‘Time’s getting on.’

‘What? Oh, er, yes. Be back by one. Give me a call if there are any problems. And I mean
any
.
Problems
.’ He directed a meaningful glare at Owen, who smiled his charming smile and put an arm around Becca’s slender waist.

Becca smiled too, her face radiant enough without the special expensive compact Anna had lent her for the evening. Well, given. ‘We will. See you later.’

‘Have a good night,’ said Anna. ‘You’ve earned it.’

‘Thanks.’ She leaned forward and gave Anna a kiss on the cheek that nearly made Anna cry. Becca
had
earned tonight, she thought – the hours of revision, the help in the shop, the general patience when everyone else had been a pain. She deserved a Cinderella moment.

Chloe and Lily watched as their big sister drove off.

‘She looked like a princess,’ said Lily. ‘A happy one.’ Then she turned on her heel and ran into the house, Pongo chasing after her.

23

Michelle sat at her kitchen table with the accounts all around her, but she couldn’t concentrate on the figures. She was thinking about Becca and Owen at the prom, and it was dredging up some unwelcome memories of her own.

Owen had looked nervous and excited when she’d seen him that morning, not the usual peacock swagger he displayed on dates. He’d even asked her opinion about his outfit, and had his hair cut.

At least he’d had a prom. She hadn’t been able to offer any advice, having been excluded from her own. I hope he’s being sensible, she thought.

Somewhere, back in her parents’ house, there was a white ballgown with accompanying strappy silver sandals. Often tried on, never actually worn. In a different dimension, one in which things had worked out properly, she and Ed Pryce had had the romantic evening she’d painstaking planned in daydreams; then started dating, gone to university together, probably had a few years apart after that, but then bumped into each other in a London bar and realised they were meant to be; got married, had two children called Ivo and Clare, and—

The doorbell rang and Michelle jumped, as if Ed might be there now.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said aloud. It was much more likely to be Rory, needing some milk or wanting to read the paper at her.

Still, she put on a slick of lipstick to make it look as if she was on her way somewhere more interesting when she opened the door. But the person outside was almost as much of a shock as Ed Pryce would have been: it was Harvey, in a suit and a peaked cap.

‘What are you doing here?’ she blurted out, her fingers clenching.

‘Charming,’ said Harvey. His eyes glittered in the light of the solar lamp hanging from her door. ‘I drive all this way to whisk you out for dinner and that’s the thanks I get?’

‘You haven’t driven a hundred and fifty miles to take me out for dinner,’ she said, taking in his outfit. ‘Why are you wearing a hat?’

‘OK, I’ll come clean,’ he said, stepping inside even though she hadn’t invited him in. ‘Nice place you’ve got here, by the way. Still just you, is it? No, I’ve been on chauffeur duty tonight, ferrying your little brother and his date to the “prom”, as I believe we’re supposed to call it now. Had a couple of hours to kill, so thought I’d come over here, see if you’d eaten. Have a chat. Since you seem so reluctant to come back to the big city.’