This Is Your Life (26 page)

‘
One minute I was passing through, then I saw the cottage… I wasn’t even thinking about staying, but suddenly it just felt right…’ she said thoughtfully.

Bella touched her arm. ‘
Just the right place at the right time by the sound of it.’ 

Lizzie frowned. 
Everyone kept talking about timing… was it really so important? 

‘
Actually, I think I know what you mean… ‘ she continued.  ‘It was a long time ago but before I came here, I was engaged to someone else - a wealthy banker, as it happens. I very nearly married him… It would have been a privileged life in some respects, but I could never quite see myself like that… And in the end, well, Harry made the decision for me and swept me off my feet.’  A reflective look crossed her face. ‘And then, when I first came here, I fell in love again, with this glorious old house, with all its draughty windows and shabby curtains. But from the minute I walked in, I felt at home. I’ve never had a single regret. It’s as though some things are just meant to happen...’ 

Before she left, Lizzie agreed that as soon as Ginny’s garden was finished, Bella’s would be top of her list.  How long would she stay, Bella wondered, watching her walk down the drive.  After all, once she’d finished putting together the pieces of her shattered life, and she was well on the way to doing that, what else was there for her here?

There was a disagreement going on in the Star when Lizzie got there.

‘Anyway, Antonia,’ Tim
was saying. ’Hold on a moment. Have you ever stopped and thought about what you spend on all Hamish’s titivating? That is the most pampered equine I’ve ever come across, even round here. Remember last year when he was daft enough to climb into the hedge and ripped himself to shreds on some barbed wire you didn’t know was there?  You couldn’t ride him for weeks and he cost you a small fortune in vets bills…’

‘She’s moaning about the cost of castrating Dave,’ said Leo.  ‘
Tim’s hardly ripping her off.  Of course, if it were a horse, she wouldn’t bat an eyelid…’

‘Horses are completely different,’ retorted Antonia. ‘Intelligent, affectionate, clever…’

It was Lizzie’s turn to smirk. If Hamish was a human, he’d have flunked out of school at the first opportunity and ended up hanging around the streets. Personally she thought Dave was far smarter.

‘Anyway,’ added Antonia bossily, changing the subject before anyone else said anything against her beloved Hamish. ‘We’re off to the Goat to meet Toby. Fancy joining us?
’

‘Got a date actually,’ said Leo with a self-satisfied look on his face.

‘What he really means is a shag,’ said Lizzie brightly.

In the Goat, Lizzie spotted Ginny’s older daughters, who nudged each other and stared rather obviously at her as she came in.

‘Drinks
, ladies?’ asked Tim.

‘Oh, red wine for me,’ said Antonia. ‘Lizzie?’

‘Same – please…’

They sat down at an empty table, and Antonia leant towards Lizzie. Not one for being discrete, she
asked with her usual frankness.  ‘Now, simply got to ask…what’s going on with you and Tom Woodleigh? Seemed you spent a jolly lot of time together at that wedding…Nice enough chap, but a bit clueless if you ask me. But, if you’re not, seeing Tom that is, I’ll have a think.  Sort out a blind date or something.’

‘No Antonia, please don’t… I won’t go.’  The idea alone was terrifying.

‘It’ll be such fun… Oh darling, here comes Tobes. Darling…’ Antonia seemed to have completely forgotten all about not encouraging him. 

‘Evening Lizzie, evening Tim
! Excellent! All got drinks I see.  Be right back…’  Toby was as chipper as ever.

‘
I think you should let Lizzie sort out her own love life! Worry about your own!  Do you know Lizzie, she can’t resist matchmaking!  Not in all the years I’ve known her, since she had her first horse…’  Tim was at her defence.

‘That was Willy, darling. Magnificent creature
... Never should have sold him you know. Went round Badminton last year.’ She looked quite downcast. ‘Biggest bloody mistake of my life. Far worse than the divorce.’

Maybe she should get away for a bit, Lizzie thought.  Spriggan Point and Roscarn were in her thoughts.  She could do with a bit of magic right now.  Wonderful though life here was, she needed space.  Away from well-meaning blind dates and stressful parties.  From worrying about Hethecote Farm and from everything that reminded her of Tom.  It was the right
time
… She made a mental note.  After Ginny’s party, she’d take a week off and disappear.

The day before Edward’s party, Lizzie drove over to check on Ginny’s garden.

Ginny‘s face had got definitely got tighter
– stress, most likely. It was a scene of pandemonium, with a half built gazebo and Ginny flapping around like a little pink butterfly, making the marquee men take it down and start again because that awning had to be just a tiny bit further over or it would look simply terrible... The men were tearing their hair out.

‘Oh Lizzie,
I’m so behind… The weather forecast isn’t good, so I had to organise
this..
. And now I’ll need to decorate it, oh goodness, I hadn’t thought of that...’ Lizzie’s heart sank. She wasn’t going to get talked into that side of things.  ‘And you are coming aren’t you?  Excellent networking opportunity for you,’ said Ginny sharply.

             
‘Of course I am,’ said Lizzie.  ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

Lizzie hadn’t seen Antonia
since the last night in the pub. Not even bouncing into the distance on a horse, which was fairly unusual. Wandering round the back of Antonia’s cottage that evening, she called out ‘Helloooo, Anyone home? Antonia?’

Eventually, Antonia emerged from her study, with a flurry of barking canines who flung themselves at Lizzie. She rubbed her eyes. ‘Oh golly.
Friday isn’t it! Seem to have lost track… Had a tad on my mind...’ She looked a bit vacant.

Then
, seizing upon the bottle under Lizzie’s arm, her eyes lit up. ‘God, I could really do with a drink. Let’s open it.’ She took it and made for the kitchen, rustling up two glasses and a corkscrew as she cleared the usual array of old Horse and Hounds and bridles to one side of the big old table.

They sat in unusual silence, sipping wine, or in Antonia’s case, gulping it, until she took a deep breath, announcing, ‘that’s better.’

Topping up their glasses, she explained
. ‘
Bloody
Harry is getting hitched. To
bloody
Marla
.’  Spoken in an exaggerated American accent. ‘Bitch woman. So, out of the blue, he wants a divorce and a financial settlement, a pretty
bloody
mean one at that. So, although he’s filthy rich and my extremely competent lawyer will undoubtedly take him to the
bloody
cleaners which is no more than he deserves, in the meantime it leaves me with the teensiest little cash flow problem.’

She was silent again, before adding, ‘
Meanwhile, I am supposed to just sit here, while she hopefully earns the ridiculous amount she’s charging me. I tell you, you wouldn’t believe what it costs me just to email her... I even have to book my telephone calls. While Cassie and I have no money too...’

Lizzie didn’t like to think what Antonia
continuously spent on her horses. Scarily huge amounts, though she was quite sure that in Antonia’s mind, it was up there with essentials like bread, milk and wine. She thought for a moment.

‘
What about more liveries?  Or could you get a job?’

‘May not have the choice,’ said Antonia miserably. ‘Might have to go and work in
the Co-op or something. Needs must, darling...’

God, what a horrendous thought. She’d send the customers fleeing for their lives, thought Lizzie, aghast.
And they’d fire her in no time...  No. That definitely wasn’t the answer.

‘No, no, no....not that sort of thing.
Something else…’ she said, casting around for ideas.

But
Antonia sat there looking rather defeated. ‘There are a couple more stables – they’re filthy dirty and full of junk, darling, but I can’t think of anything else…’  Her eyes swung over to the painting Lizzie had noticed when they first met.  ‘I could always sell that – it’s an original you know.  Might have to, at this rate…’

She
took another large swig of wine, thinking out loud.

‘
I suppose it’ll be more liveries.  The hunting season’s round the corner! Couldn’t be better timing really… Have to deal with the owners of course, but, well, beggars can’t be choosers...and once the lawyer’s sorted Harry out, I’ll boot them all out again.’  She sighed, looking slightly defeated.

Lizzie wondered if it would be as
simple as Antonia thought, but had to admire her friend, when by the next day, she’d already scrubbed out her spare loose boxes and stuck ads in all the local feed shops.

And
at least it was proving a welcome distraction, as far as Lizzie was concerned, from Tom, who seemed to have completely vanished. Far from being upset, Lizzie remained calm and philosophical, though admittedly, still somewhat perplexed. She supposed that he’d succumbed to the charms of the calculating Lucy – so why did it feel like there was still unfinished business?

It
had taken him a while to figure it out, but there was definitely unfinished business between him and Lizzie, reflected Tom. He had found out, too late, that he didn’t feel about Lucy the way he used to.  His world had fallen apart when she left him all that time ago.  Then, he’d have done
anything
to have her back… And now she
was
back it was different.  But she had this knack, of drawing him in, planning things for them to do together...And not wanting to rock the boat Tom had found himself going along with it… but the spark had well and truly died.

But the
trouble with history, he thought ruefully, is it complicates everything. It’s hard not to be swayed by what you used to mean to each other.  Bodies remember – physically he can let himself respond to her.  And there’s everything you already know about each other...It pulls you back together like the most annoying kind of glue, when really, it would be better all round, if you severed the connection for good.

Not so for Lucy though, who
had made up her mind that one way or another, the next Woodleigh wedding would be hers.

But for Tom, this unfinished business was haunting him.
It had been different two years ago when Lucy had broken his heart.  But things had changed – he’d changed. He wasn’t in love with her, and there was Lizzie.  Try as he did to put her out of his mind, she kept creeping in to his thoughts.

T
he more he thought about her the more he wanted to see her. That was the trouble.  He’d managed to at least work that much out, though goodness knows he’d taken long enough. Lizzie was so easy to be with.  Undemanding... not forgetting heart-stoppingly beautiful without even trying, not like the high maintenance girls he usually met. All this dashing around with Lucy, meeting this group of friends here, visiting that new wine bar there, ‘everyone’s going there, Tom darling...’ It was making him crave the peace of Lizzie’s back garden with chickens scratching round his feet, and suddenly a cold beer in the Goat was infinitely more appealing than cocktails in the latest, trendiest wine bar in the heart of London. God, Tom, he thought, with a shock. You must be getting old.

Oh, there was no disputing that Lucy fancied him
, he’d worked that out, too. The way she cocked a groomed eyebrow at him, tilting her head as she looked sideways, flirtatiously into his eyes. The way she kept touching him, and that smile, so inviting and full of promise... But it wasn’t working. He sighed.  He knew the time had come.

Back at Lucy’s flat,
she’d confidently set the scene, believing all her plans were about to fall into place. While Tom was in the bathroom, she dashed around, quickly lighting the scented candles she’d put out earlier. Pavarotti played quietly in the background and there was a bottle of Veuve Cliquot chilling in the fridge. She’d taken her time, and hadn’t rushed him, she thought, allowing herself a slightly smug smile as she anticipated what lay ahead.

But
he’d come back in, gently taking both her hands, sitting her down next to him on the expensive leather sofa. It’s worked, thought Lucy, exalted for all of a split second, before her hopes were dashed for good.

‘You dumped me for Stuart, Luce,’ he said, only mildly accusingly. ‘You didn’t explain, didn’t apologise, just disappeared, leaving me to find out from Rich, who’d bumped into the two of you having a romantic dinner...’

He’d shaken his head then, and let go of her hands. Hearing the tone of his voice, Lucy dropped the girly, flirty act, stopped tilting her head.

Looking earnestly at him, she said in all honesty, ‘I’m sorry Tom
.  Truly, from the bottom of my heart. I made the biggest mistake of my life. We were so good together...I’d really hoped that, well, I could make it up to you and we could give it another try...’

Tom clasped his hands together and looked at her intently. Suddenly there was no choice to make. There never had been.
He didn’t even know why he was here.

Standing up, he
said, ‘I’m sorry, it’s too late...’

He walked out feeling a physical need to talk to Lizzie. He really had been an idiot. It was late, but he tried his mobile, which was out of battery again. Crap. Rich was always telling him to charge his phone. He’d try again when he got home. This was important.

In Littleton, Lizzie stirred from a deep sleep, thinking she could hear the phone ringing in the distance...sleepily she sat up. It had definitely stopped now. Looking at her clock, she saw it was midnight. And now she was awake... She switched the light on and started to read.

Miles away in London, Tom lay in bed, also trying to read. He’d known it was too late to phone, but he’d had to try. He’d get up early in the morning and try again.

Next morning, Lizzie was on the way out to her car when the phone went again. Never mind. If it was important, they’d leave a message. Or phone her mobile. It never crossed her mind it might be Tom.

He let the phone ring until the answerphone clicked in, then changed his mind and hung up. He wasn’t sure quite what to say. In fact he was at a loss as to what to do next.