Making Your Mind Up (36 page)

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Authors: Jill Mansell

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Chapter 62

When Kingston Ash was behind them, Tyler stopped the car and turned around to look at Nat and Ruby in the backseat. It was at that moment he realized that if he'd been expecting an iota of gratitude he was going to be disappointed.

Luckily he hadn't.

“OK, I'm going to take you back to my place. Hestacombe House,” Tyler added, in case they thought he meant Fox Cottage.

“I want to see Mum,” said Ruby.

“I know, I know you do, but she's asleep now. And they wouldn't let you onto the ward. So we can't—”

“I'm not staying at your house.” Nat, his tone final, was gazing fixedly out of the window.

Breathe deeply. Patience.
“It won't just be me. Liana's there too.”

Nat folded his arms. “Still not doing it.”

“Well, you don't have a lot of choice,” Tyler pointed out. “What with being seven. Ruby, tell him.”

Ruby's dark eyes were expressionless. “I don't want to stay at your house either. Just leave us at the hospital and we'll sit in the waiting room till Mum wakes up.”

Oh, for crying out loud.

“Now listen to me. I didn't just
kidnap
you,” said Tyler. “You were the one who phoned me, remember? You asked me to come and fetch you.”

“I didn't,” Nat retorted. “I didn't want anyone to come and get me. I was asleep until
she
woke me up.”

“Don't
poke
me.” Ruby gave Nat a shove in return.

“So what do you want me to do? Turn the car around and take you back?”

Silence.

“Tell me,” Tyler persisted. “I'm interested. Is that really what you want?”

Finally, in a low voice, Ruby muttered, “No.”

“But we don't want to go back to your house either,” Nat repeated stubbornly.

“OK, but I have to warn you, your options are pretty limited. Your dad's in Tenerife. And Lottie tells me her friend Cressida's not around. So do you want me to ask Ben and Harry Jenkins' mother if you can share their bunk beds? Or, let me see, would you rather stay with Ted from the shop? Or, hang on, what's the name of that teacher your mom's so scared of? Miss Bat-something,” said Tyler. “Would she take you in, d'you think?”

More silence.

Nat said, “We'll stay at the hospital.”

“You won't, because someone would call the police and you'd both be arrested.” Tyler sighed as the snow began to fall more heavily, clogging up the windshield. “Right, this is my final offer. Tomorrow we'll sort out a better solution, but just for tonight you stay at my place.”

Ruby, fiddling in the pocket of her trousers, produced a key. Triumphantly she said, “We'll stay at
our
house.”

“Not on your own you don't.”

“You wouldn't call the police.”

“I bet I would.” With a glimmer of a smile Tyler said, “And they'd throw you in jail for a week.”

Unamused, Ruby glared at him for several seconds. Finally she shrugged. “Well, you're not having my mum's bed. You can sleep downstairs on the settee.”

* * *

Honestly, talk about surreal. Lottie was beginning to wonder if she'd landed on her head after all. One minute, she thought she felt better, the next minute she knew she must be hallucinating, because Nat and Ruby were heading up the ward toward her with—ooh,
weird—
Tyler following in their wake.

Except, even weirder, he appeared to be real.

“What's going on?” Lottie craned her neck to see past them. “Where's Seb?”

“Hello, Mummy. We're fine.” Having planted a kiss on each cheek, Nat and Ruby moved away from the bed.

“They'll be back in ten minutes,” said Tyler as they ran out of the ward. “And you can see they're OK. I just need to—”

“What happened?” Lottie instantly conjured up mental pictures of an accident, Seb losing control of the car in the snow, the ambulance crew managing to get Nat and Ruby out unscathed but unable to reach Seb before being flung back by a violent explosion. Sick with fear she blurted out, “Oh God, tell me he's all right!”

Ten minutes later, Tyler had told her everything. Rigid with horror and disbelief, Lottie listened in silence. By the time he reached the end, she was ready to rip the intravenous drip from her arm and launch herself like Frankenstein's monster out of bed—except she couldn't even
walk
.

“I'm sorry. Here.” It wasn't until Tyler passed her a handful of tissues that she realized tears were rolling down her face. “Hey, don't cry. I know it's a shock, but you can do better than him.”

Lottie clumsily wiped her eyes with her unbandaged left hand. “Do you seriously think that's why I'm upset? Because that dirt bag was cheating on me? My God, what kind of a person do you think I am!”

Tyler paused. “But you're crying.”

“Because I'm so relieved my kids are OK!” Incandescent with rage—
how
could he be so dense?—Lottie hurled a sodden tissue at him. “Because I can't believe I was so
stupid
.” She hurled another. “Because I trusted another person to look after my children and I
shouldn't hav
e
! Because I got it wrong and I'm a lousy judge of character and…oh God,
anything
could have happened to them.”

“But it didn't. They're fine.” Tyler's tone was soothing. “Besides, how could you have known?”

“I just should have.” Noisily Lottie blew her nose. He must be bursting to say “I told you so.” Because he never had liked Seb.

“Did you know he used cocaine?”

“No!” Although now, of course, everything made more sense. Seb's overenthusiasm, his episodes of almost over-the-top hyperactivity, the way he sometimes laughed a bit too much at something that wasn't
that
funny. His over-the-topness was one of the reasons Nat and Ruby had enjoyed being with him. Feeling stupider than ever, Lottie said, “Did you?”

“It crossed my mind. Hey.” Tyler handed her a clean tissue. “I worked on Wall Street, remember? There was a bit more of that kind of thing going on in New York than you're used to in Hestacombe.”

This didn't make Lottie feel any better at all. She still wanted to tear Sebastian Gill apart with her bare hands. While he'd been high on coke and cavorting in his living room with some tart, Ruby had been upstairs so desperate to escape that she had been forced to accept help from, of all people,
Tyler
.

“I'm sorry I threw those tissues at you.”

“That's OK.” He sounded amused. “I'm a man. I can handle soggy tissues.”

“And thanks for rescuing Nat and Ruby.” There was still so much she had to say. “So does this mean they don't hate you anymore?”

“Wouldn't that be nice?” Tyler gave her an ironic look. “Sadly, there's no danger of that happening. Your children still hate me every bit as much as before.”

“Oh.” Disappointed, Lottie said, “Is Mario on his way home yet?”

“We haven't been able to contact him.”

“Bloody hell.” She shook her head in exasperation. “What's he playing at?”

“No, we can't find the piece of paper with his details. We've turned the kitchen upside down, looked everywhere.” Tyler shrugged. “It's gone. Can you remember the name of the hotel?”

Lottie looked blank. “No.”

“We're back,” Nat announced.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Ready to burst into tears all over again, Lottie held out her good arm. “Come here.”

Nat, dodging smartly out of the way, said, “Yuck, get off, not if you're going to cry.”

“Poor Mummy, be nice to her.” Ruby stroked Lottie's shoulder.

Making an effort to retain control, Lottie whispered, “I'm so sorry about last night, sweetheart. Are you sure you're all right?”

Ruby nodded before jerking her head in Tyler's direction. “Except for having
him
looking after us.”

Lottie was mortified. “Oh, Ruby, don't say that. Look what he
did
for you…”

“I still don't like him.” Ruby spoke matter-of-factly. “Anyway, Dad'll be home soon.”

“He won't be if we can't contact him. Now think,” Lottie cajoled. “The hotel and phone number were written on a sheet of yellow paper. It was on the dresser on Friday. It can't have just disappeared.” As she said this, she saw Nat's dark lashes flicker. “Nat? Any ideas at all?”

“No!” He sounded outraged.

“Because if there was some kind of an accident, then that's fine,” Tyler joined in casually. “But if it
is
still there, we'll just have to keep on looking until we find it.”

Nat glanced furtively around the ward before saying hurriedly, “I spilled juice on it and the ink went all blurred. So I threw it away.”

“You
idiot
.” Ruby let out a wail of disbelief.

“Well, that's not a problem.” Tyler looked relieved. “All we have to do is go through the kitchen trash.”

It was a measure of how desperate he was to get Nat and Ruby off his hands, Lottie felt, that he was willing to trawl through a disgusting smelly mess of empty baked bean tins, potato peelings, and old chicken bones.

“I didn't want anyone to find out what I'd done,” Nat mumbled. “So I threw it in the toilet and pulled the flush.”

Lottie and Tyler looked at each other. Nat said in a defensive voice, “It was an
accident
.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “And it's practically the first time in your whole life you've ever pulled the flush.”

This was too true to be funny. And now they had no way of contacting Mario. Beckoning over a passing nurse, Lottie said hopefully, “If I promise to stay in bed, could I go home?”

The nurse rolled her eyes exactly as Ruby had just done. “
No
.”

Oh.

“I've got an idea,” Ruby said suddenly. “Amber!”

“Yay, Amber! She could look after us.” Nat's face lit up as he clutched Lottie's arm. “She can, can't she, Mum? We
like
Amber.”

“Give her a ring,” Lottie told Tyler. “Her number's on my phone. Fingers crossed she can do it.”

Tyler was gone from the ward for a good fifteen minutes. When he returned he wasn't looking giddy with relief.

“She can't.”

“Oh no.” Lottie had been pinning all her hopes on Amber riding to the rescue.

“That's not fair! Why not?” wailed Nat.

“She's too busy, rushed off her feet at work. Everyone wants their hair done before Christmas,” said Tyler. “And she's doing house visits in the evenings as well.”

“Could we just stay with her today?” Ruby pleaded. “It's Sunday. Amber never works on a Sunday.”

“She can't do that either.” Raking his fingers through his hair Tyler said bluntly, “Quentin's taking her to meet his aunt in Oxford.”

So that was that. Amber had been their last hope.

“It's no use glaring at me,” Tyler told Nat. “I didn't want this either. But it looks like we're stuck with each other for the next few days. So we may as well make the best of it.”

“There isn't any best. We don't
want
you looking after us,” said Nat.

“And this is my worst nightmare,” Tyler retorted. “So that makes us even.”

“All this bickering isn't doing me any good, you know,” said Lottie.

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Stop doing it then.”

Oh God. The three of them were as bad as each other. Now she knew how the teachers at Oaklea felt when they were called upon to settle a playground spat.

One of the nurses came bustling over. “Lottie, the porters are here to wheel you down for your pyelogram.”

Tyler said, “We'll leave you to it.”

Ruby shot him a suspicious look. “What're you going to do with us?”

“Lock you in the garage.”

When they'd left the ward, the nurse said with an indulgent smile, “Mum goes into hospital and Dad doesn't know what's hit him. Most of them don't have the first idea when it comes to taking care of their kids, do they?”

“He's not their dad,” said Lottie. “He's my boss.”

“Really? Heavens, lucky old you!” The nurse softened. “And how lovely of him to be looking after your children!”

The porters had arrived to wheel her bed out of the ward. Bracing herself for knocks and judders, Lottie said wearily, “Believe me, he didn't have a lot of choice.”

Chapter 63

“What's in here? It weighs a ton.” Ask a silly question. Tyler picked up Nat's schoolbag, unzipped it and found it packed with—what else?—stones.

“It's
stones
. Aren't I allowed to collect stones?” Nat was ostentatiously picking crispy shards of black from the surface of his Marks & Spencer lasagna.

“Absolutely. Am I allowed to ask why?”

“It's what soldiers do in the army. To make them strong. This is really burned.”

Tyler rose above this slur on his culinary skills. “I call it char grilled.”

“I call it burned.”

“That's how soldiers eat it.” Burrowing among the muddy stones, Tyler pulled out a mangled, muddy sheet of turquoise paper. “What's this?”

Nat mumbled, “Letter from school.”

“How long has it been in here?”

“I don't know. This is
so
burned.”

Tyler began to read the photocopied letter, issued to all pupils by the school headmistress and so jollily worded that at first he found himself lulled into a false sense of security.

It took a few seconds to realize what it was actually instructing him to do.

“It's half past eight on Monday night,” Tyler said slowly, “and it says here that all children must bring cakes into school on Tuesday morning for the cake stall.” He looked first at Ruby, then at Nat. “But we don't have any in the house, and all the shops are shut.”

“You aren't allowed to buy them from the shop,” said Nat. “You have to make them.”

Oh great. “Ruby? Do you have one of these letters too?”

“No.”

Tyler exhaled. “Well, that's something at least.”

“I think I lost mine,” Ruby said helpfully.

“So what happens if you go to school tomorrow without homemade cakes?”

They looked scandalized. “We have to. Or we'll get in trouble.”

Tyler carried on reading. Everyone, the letter chirpily announced, was expected to attend the Christmas Tree and Cakes Fair on Tuesday evening and enjoy the carols being sung by fifth-grade pupils in their festive Victorian attire.

He turned to Ruby. “What grade are you in?”

She gave him a
duh
look. “Five.”

This was a learning curve and no mistake. “You're singing carols tomorrow night?”

“It doesn't matter. I'll tell them I can't go.”

“And the festive Victorian attire? Where does that come from?”

“You have to ask your mum and she makes it. But she's in the hospital,” said Ruby, “so we won't be going to the Tree and Cakes Fair anyway. So don't worry about it.”

Tyler looked at her. This was a
vertical
learning curve.

“Don't try to make any cakes either,” Nat added. “Because if you did they'd only end up burned.”

* * *

“You made
what
last night?”

“Twenty-four cupcakes.”

“But why…? Oh my God! The Tree and Cakes Fair. I forgot all about it!” Lottie couldn't believe it had slipped her mind. “And Ruby's supposed to be… Oh well, they'll manage without her.”

“No, it's OK, we're going. I know about the festive Victorian attire,” Tyler said drily. “And I've tracked down a shop in Cheltenham that rents out costumes.”

“You don't have to do that,” Lottie protested.

“But it has to be
right
.”

“This is Oaklea Junior School, not the London Palladium. She can go as a street urchin,” Lottie explained. “Old pair of trousers cut off below the knee to look raggedy. Some shirt buttoned up all wrong, hair messed up, streaks of dirt on her face.”

Relieved, Tyler said, “OK.”

“Don't forget to take a camera.”

“Right.”

“Oh, and I volunteered to help with selling the Christmas trees.”

“I'll do that then.”

“You'll need gardener's gloves.”

“Why, to stop Nat biting me?”

“They don't still hate you, do they?”

“More than ever. But that's OK. I can handle it.”

“What about Liana?”

“She doesn't hate me.”

“She must be getting a bit fed up.” Lottie did her best to sound concerned.

“Can't be helped.” Abruptly changing the subject, Tyler pulled the crumpled school letter from his jacket pocket. “Now, it's Nat's Christmas play tomorrow night.”

“The Nativity play. He's playing one of the sheep. That's easy too,” said Lottie. “Just wrap the sheepskin rug around him and tie it on with a couple belts.”

“He's been upgraded. Charlie Johnson's off with the flu, so Nat's been promoted to chief shepherd. I already checked with one of the other mothers this morning when I dropped them off at school.” Tyler was looking pleased with himself. “Tea towel on head. Big shirt, bare feet, walking stick. No problem.”

Lottie's eyes prickled with tears. She was going to miss the Nativity play.

“Don't worry, the head's videoing it,” said Tyler. “I'm not allowed to go either.”

“You won't be there?” Lottie couldn't bear it.

“I've been banned by Nat. I have to wait outside the school hall.” Tyler waited. “Of course I'm going to be there. He just won't know about it, that's all.”

* * *

When they arrived back at Piper's Cottage, the mail had been delivered. Ruby, scooping the postcard up off the mat, said, “We did a project at school on Australia. This is Sydney Harbor Bridge.”

Tyler looked over her shoulder. “It isn't.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it's not.”

“Yes it
is
.”

“Turn it over then. See what it says.”

Ruby turned the card over.

“See?” Tyler pointed to the printed lettering at the bottom. “The Tyne Bridge, Newcastle-upon-Tyne.”

Annoyed, Ruby said, “How did you
know
?”

“Because I'm very clever.” He smiled. “Yours was a pretty good guess though. They're very similar.”

“It's not fair.” Ruby heaved an irritated sigh. “I wish I knew everything. I can't wait to be a grown-up and always get everything right.”

Tyler thought of Lottie and Liana and the events of the past few months. “Trust me,” he told Ruby with feeling, “being a grown-up doesn't mean you get everything right.”

“Do you make mistakes?” Nat looked delighted.

Was he kidding? “Oh yes, I've made some big mistakes. Like the time I thought you'd stolen your mom's clothes while she was swimming in the lake.”

“It wasn't us,” said Nat.

“Of course it wasn't you. I know that now. But at the time it was an honest mistake.”

“And when you threw away my blankie.”

“That too.” Tyler nodded in agreement. “And I said I was sorry.”

“Blankies are for babies anyway.” Nat was proud, these days, of his blankie-less state.

“You killed Bernard,” Ruby chimed in before it could sound as if they might be on the verge of forgiving him. Bluntly she added, “That was murder.”

“I know. But I really didn't mean to kill him. It was an accident.” Tyler shook his head. “I told you, grown-ups still make mistakes.”

“Anyway.” Firmly changing the subject, Ruby held up the postcard. “This is for Mum, from Cressida. Should I read it?”

“You shouldn't really read other people's mail,” Tyler pointed out.

“It's only a postcard. Everyone reads
them
.”

This was true. “Go on then.”

Ruby cleared her throat importantly and read aloud, “‘Newcastle is perfect. So is Tom. I've never been happier in my life. The view from up here on Cloud 9 is spectacular—may not want to come down again! Love, Cress. Psss, hope all's well with you and Seb.' Ha, wait until she hears about
him
.”

“So this man Tom is going to be Cress's new boyfriend. They'll be all lovey-dovey.” Nat rolled his eyes.

Lucky them
, thought Tyler.

“If Cress hadn't gone up to see him,” Nat continued, “she'd be looking after us now, instead of you.”

With difficulty, Tyler managed to keep a straight face. “I guess she's just had a lucky escape. Now, anyone want to give me a hand with dinner?”

Nat looked appalled. “My favorite program's about to start.”

“The more help I get, the less likely it is to be burned.”

It was Ruby's turn to heave a sigh. “I suppose I'll have to help you then. But only for a bit.”

“Thank you.” It was a minor victory, but it felt…God, it felt
great
. When Nat had raced off to watch TV, Tyler nodded at the postcard in Ruby's hand and said easily, “By the way, that bit at the end. It's P.S., not
Psss
.”

Ruby bristled. “I knew that.”

“Hey, of course you did.” She looked so much like Lottie when she was defending herself. “In fact, I prefer
Psss
,” said Tyler. “It sounds like a secret you're whispering to someone. Much better than boring old P.S.”

Ruby almost,
almost
smiled. She nodded confidently. “Me too.”

* * *

Having skipped down the steps and raced across the playground to where the Christmas trees were being sold, Ruby hovered to one side for a few seconds before blurting out, “Did you see me?”

Her breath hung in misty clouds in the freezing night air, and she was wearing her street urchin outfit.

“I saw you. And heard you. We all did.” Tyler indicated the other helpers before untying the blue sweater from around his waist. “You did great. Now, why don't you put this on before you catch pneumonia?”

“It's
yours
.” Ruby eyed the sweater with alarm, as if he'd offered her one decorated with live cockroaches.

“But you left your coat at home, remember? And now you're cold. No, don't want it? OK, just put it over there on the wall.”

Three minutes later, Ruby said, “Did you hear me doing my solo verse in ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful'?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I heard it. I was the one clapping and whistling the loudest.” Tyler paused. “Actually, better not tell Lottie I was doing that. She might think sticking your fingers in your mouth and whistling is the kind of crass thing only a dumb American would do.”

Ruby looked envious. “I've never been able to whistle like that. With my fingers.”

“Oh well, I can teach you how to do that. Learned all about whistling when I worked on a cattle ranch in Wyoming.” Someone came up at that point to choose one of the Christmas trees. By the time Tyler had finished dealing with them, Ruby had wandered over to chat with her friends around the hot chocolate stand, but she was wearing his sweater.

A small concession, but maybe—
maybe
—a start.

* * *

“I can't get my stupid tea towel on straight! It keeps going sideways and falling over my eye!”

“OK, OK, don't panic. I'll sort it out.”

“I'm going to be
late
.” Nat's voice rose. “It's starting
now
.”

“Better keep still then.” Crouching in front of him in the parking lot, Tyler whipped off the tea towel and headband and started all over again while Nat hopped impatiently from foot to foot. Having visited Lottie in the hospital and leaving plenty of time for the journey to school, they hadn't allowed for a truck jackknifing across the A46, causing a twenty-minute delay and so much agitation on Nat's part it was a wonder he hadn't exploded through the roof of the car.

“Quick, quick!”

“There, all done. You look terrific.” Tyler patted him on the shoulder. “Go on in, it's showtime.”

Nat gazed up at him. “Where will you be?”

“Don't worry, I'll wait in the car.”

After a moment's hesitation Nat said, “Is it true that you worked on a cattle ranch, like a real cowboy?”

“Of course it's true.” So Ruby had told him about that. “I even learned how to use a lasso.”

“And whistle really loudly with your fingers in your mouth.” Nat paused, blinked. “You can come in and watch, if you want.”

Tyler was careful not to react. But inside he was marveling that being invited to watch a Nativity play could feel like winning the lottery. Aloud he said, “Really? You're sure you don't mind?”

Clearly itching to get inside, Nat shrugged. “You can, if you like.”

“Thanks.” As Nat turned to leave, Tyler called after him, “If it's a good show, am I allowed to whistle at the end?”

It was too dark to be able to tell for sure, but he was fairly certain Nat was smiling as he yelled back, “You can, if you like.”

* * *

Lottie almost had a relapse there and then when her visitors made their way onto the ward on Friday afternoon and she saw that Nat was holding Tyler's hand.

When Nat grinned and waved at her she nearly had another one. “Oh my God, I didn't even know your tooth was loose!”

“It wathn't. I fell over in the playground during morning break and my tooth broke in half.” Intensely proud of his gap, Nat wiggled the end of his tongue through it. “And it hurt like anything, tho Mith Batson called your thell phone and Tyler anthwered and came and picked me up and took me to the dentitht. And the dentitht gave me a huge injection and that
really
hurt, but I wath brave and then he pulled out the tooth and there wath loadth of blood
everywhere
.”

“Oh, Nat!” Lottie hugged him before anxiously searching his face for signs of emotional trauma. “And I wasn't there!”

“Mum, you're choking me. My mouth wath all numb and flubbery afterward. It wath cool! And then I went back to thcool even though there wath blood on my shirt.” This had evidently been a badge of honor. “And Tyler gave me a pound for being brave at the dentitht.
And
he'th taking uth ithe-thkating tomorrow, to an ithethkating rink in Brithtol.”

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