Well Groomed (60 page)

‘Who?’ Tash gaped at her in amazement.

Sophia’s perfectly arched eyebrows shot up at the look of excitement in Tash’s eyes. She hadn’t expected her to react quite so enthusiastically.

‘Granny,’ she said smoothly. ‘She’s absolutely livid that your wedding clashes with the final round of her bridge tournament. She’s threatening not to come.’

When Niall returned from the bar, very tight, with Ben and Pascal using his broad shoulders as arm rests, Tash and the others were drinking tea on the terrace, shaded by green parasols. The garden, soaked in that afternoon’s brief storm, left knee-high wet stains like wellington boots on the men’s trousers as they took a short cut through it and stumbled merrily up the steps.

From the raucous bonhomie of the new arrivals, Tash guessed that Niall hadn’t been able to tell them either. She caught his eye in despair.

Sitting beside her, he shook his head. ‘Sorry, angel, I just couldn’t do it.’

Touching his arm, Tash looked across to her mother who was sitting with Polly on her knee, telling her what a gorgeous bridesmaid she’d make with or without a navel ring. Polly was nodding thoughtfully.

‘I couldn’t either,’ she whispered.

Watching Tash’s tender touches, Sophia narrowed her eyes. Her sister was more of a fickle minx than she had ever given her credit for, she realised.

Once Tash and Niall were on the train home, their mood grew heavier as they realised the enormity of their cowardice. They would now be forced to perform the ultimate gutless act and let everyone know that the wedding was off by writing to them.

‘We’ll compose a letter tonight,’ Niall promised. ‘After we’ve seen Zoe and the others.’

Tash wasn’t aware that they were seeing Zoe and the others – she had simply planned to slip up the road from the forge alone later to collect Beetroot and check on the horses.

Instead, Niall instructed the cab driver to take them straight to the farm from Marlbury station. It was past nine and the yard was in darkness. Tash could just make out Snob’s white blaze bobbing sulkily out of his top door in the gloom as Niall whisked her past.

They arrived just as everyone was sitting down to eat. Zoe’s usual reaction would have been to laugh and fetch two more place settings. Instead, rather alarmingly, she burst into tears.

‘Angel!’ Niall rushed over to comfort her. ‘What is it? Shh, shh . . .’

Standing behind him, Tash hovered uselessly and glanced at the others. Gus and Penny looked embarrassed. Catching her eye, Rufus pretended to slit his throat and rolled his eyes upwards to indicate bad news. Only India got up and touched Tash’s arm, her big, blue eyes soft with pity.

‘Mummy ran Giblets over this morning,’ she said. ‘He just came strutting out into the road – there was nothing she could do without killing herself. She’s been crying on and off ever since.’

‘We’ve been spending all afternoon clearing up feathers so that they wouldn’t be the first thing you saw when you got back,’ Rufus sighed. ‘It took bloody ages.’

‘I didn’t see any feathers,’ Tash said distractedly, looking across to where Zoe was weeping in Niall’s arms while he told her that it was much more important that she was okay than that poor old Giblets was.

‘I’m so sorry!’ she was saying. ‘He just suddenly waddled out – I wasn’t even going that fast. He simply didn’t give me a chance to stop.’

‘It’s okay, angel,’ soothed Niall. ‘He was only a foul fowl so he was. We love you much more.’

‘He probably wanted to end it all anyway,’ Tash said awkwardly, feeling surplus. ‘He wouldn’t want to be the victim of a broken home.’

Gus gave her an odd look at this, but Tash was too busy watching Zoe and Niall to notice.

There was nothing romantic in their posture – just a friend comforting a friend – but it betokened a closeness and an ease with one another that she hadn’t really taken in before. She felt no jealousy or even surprise – she simply felt rather stupid for having overlooked it for so long.

Stiffening her resolve, Tash opened her mouth to deliver the unthinkable news about their decision, and then shut it again as Rufus started to gossip loudly and excitedly.

‘Hugo’s got all the film crew milling around his place now – and word on the village grapevine is that he’s got a new lover too. You’ll never guess who it is?’

‘Who?’ she asked croakily, feeling as though both her lungs were collapsing inside her chest.

‘Well, you’ll love this,’ Rufus grinned wickedly. ‘It’s your ex-wife, Niall.’

‘Lisette?’ Niall started to laugh, not noticing that Tash had turned so white she was blending into the wall tiles.

‘And this came this morning.’ Rufus waggled a Sleeping Partners postcard around. ‘It’s an invitation to a party.’

‘A party?’ Niall was still laughing. ‘Don’t tell me they’re getting engaged already?’

‘No, it’s a Slumber Party – at the Olive Branch.’ Rufus started to read the card aloud. ‘“A double celebration of the wrap of the first Four Poster Bed location shoot, and the forthcoming wedding of its star, Niall O’Shaughnessy, to Natasha French. Strictly by invitation only”. And this is the best bit – “To be covered exclusively by
Cheers!
magazine”.’

‘Shit!’ Niall suddenly covered his face. He looked as though he’d just been kick-boxed on the forehead.

Tash stared at him. ‘What is this?’

He groaned, still keeping his eyes covered. ‘It’s written into my contract. Oh, Christ, I’d forgotten.’

‘What, Niall?’ Tash froze, her eyes darting around the room.

‘I didn’t really think about it at the time,’ he muttered, removing his hands and staring at her, his face tortured. ‘Lisette inserted a publicity clause into my contract, so she did. It was a last-minute thing. She and Bob Hudson set up a deal that bumped up my fee by fifty percent. It’s a huge tie-in deal with
Cheers!
magazine.’

‘This
Cheers!
magazine?’ Penny asked excitedly, holding up a weekly glossy packed with photographs of the stars at home and at play. She was mortally ashamed of buying it but, like watching Through The Keyhole, too salaciously delighted by the contents to stop herself.

‘That’s the one.’ Niall was looking into Tash’s face in abject apology. ‘They’re paying multiple thousands for exclusive rights to cover the wedding – pics of the ceremony and everything.’

‘That’s fantastic!’ Rufus cat-called. ‘You’re going to be in
Cheers!
Christ, I can’t wait to tell the guys at school.’

Tash caught Zoe’s eye behind his head. That soft blue gaze – still tinged with red from crying – emanated such pity that Tash wanted to crash across the kitchen and weep into her arms. It was such an awful, sordid mess, she realised, and she had no idea how they were going to get themselves out of it.

‘SO YOU’RE REALLY GOING to stay in Berkshire for the whole fortnight?’ Matty watched as Sally packed enough clothes to be leaving him for good. He was sitting tight-limbed on the button-backed chair in the corner of the bedroom, as forlorn as a dog knowing he’s about to be left in kennels.

‘Yup,’ she muttered, not looking at him. ‘I think I can trust you on your own for that long.’

‘I might throw wild parties every night and enrage the good citizens of Richmond,’ he joked feebly.

‘Feel free,’ Sally muttered, marching past him to the wardrobe. ‘Just try not to leave ring marks on the furniture.’

‘I could even conduct a torrid affair in your absence.’ He watched her stalk back past with a pile of sweaters, resentment clawing at his chest. ‘A steamy fortnight stand.’

‘I very much doubt that.’ Sally threw her pile on to the bed and started to sort through it.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Well, if you’re as horrible to other women as you are to me, you don’t stand much chance of getting into their knickers in just two weeks.’ She grabbed a jumper and balled it up.

He blinked in astonishment. ‘I’m not that horrible to you, Sals.’

Throwing the jumper into her case, she glared at him. ‘You’ve been diabolical to me lately, Matty. You’ve put me down more often than a vet going through a crate of rabid cats. Sometimes I don’t think you have one ounce of respect for me.’

‘Of course I respect you.’ He stared at her, his eyes huge.

‘So much so that you laugh at the one creative thing I’ve tried to do in years,’ she hissed. ‘All you’ve done since I’ve taken this job is snipe and sneer and try to ridicule me.’

‘That’s because it’s not creative. Lisette is using you as a dogsbody. I just wish you could see that.’ He buried his face in his hands despairingly.

‘And that’s your prerogative, I suppose?’ she muttered. ‘Treating me as a dogsbody? At least Lisette pays me.’

‘What?’

‘If you think what I’m trying to do is so petty then you should try looking at your behaviour recently. For the past year I’ve watched you get up every day and stare at that computer screen for hours on end doing practically nothing – you play games of Patience more often than you write. When was the last time you really chased any work instead of wandering after it half-heartedly, only to find you’ve arrived there months after someone else?’

He found he couldn’t answer.

‘I expect you’ve forgotten, it’s so long ago,’ she sighed. ‘I want you to enjoy yourself again, Matty, to love what you do for a living instead of living through hell trying to do it at all. What do you think it’s felt like watching you hating your days, watching you trying to force yourself to work for months on end, when I’ve just longed and longed to get out of the house and work myself?’

‘You felt that trapped?’ He covered his mouth.

‘Not always.’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘I adore looking after the kids, after you even, although I’d be grateful for a scrap of thanks occasionally. But it riles me when you talk down to me all the time. You seem to forget that I had a career once, that I was once something other than a mother, cook and laundry woman. It’s as though you think I’ve lost a few million braincells with every labour I’ve been through, as though my intellect has shrunk every time my belly has swelled.’

‘So why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t even say that you were planning to take this job – you just sprang it on me.’

‘I wasn’t aware I had to ask permission.’

‘These things need to be discussed.’ He watched her trying to click shut the suitcase latches. ‘There’s such a thing as compromise.’

‘Oh, yes, I know. You decide and I compromise. Well, I thought that it was about time you experienced what it’s like to be taken for granted.’

Matty gazed at her in appalled horror. ‘Christ, Lisette’s really turning you into a selfish bitch.’

‘And you’ve been turning into a fucking misogynist for years, Matty.’

‘I have not!’

‘You act all high and mighty and as politically correct as an American job application form, but underneath it all you’re as prejudiced and reactionary as your father, aren’t you? I just can’t believe it took me so long to see through you.’

‘Don’t you dare suggest I’m like my father!’ he wailed. ‘I do not take you for granted, Sally. And I would never look elsewhere for comfort like my father did when his marriage was on the rocks. If you were a bit less insular and self-obsessed you might have noticed that I’ve been a bloody good, faithful, self-denying husband recently. Christ, I wish to hell I hadn’t bothered now.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sally froze.

‘I was bloody tempted to have an affair not too long ago,’ he muttered accusingly. ‘She was bright and witty and educated, and by God we were close to getting it together. I was certainly lonely enough. But I love you, Sally, and I was simply torn apart by guilt and self-loathing. I couldn’t go through with it. Now I know what you think of me, I almost wish I had.’

‘Well, now’s your chance.’ She dragged her case from the bed, stifling a sob. ‘Why don’t you give her a call this week?’

Niall and Tash had chosen the worst possible time to try to call off a wedding. It was the week before the Badminton three-day event, the trials on which the entire Lime Tree Farm yard had been focused for months, and Tash had two horses to prepare during the final, vital run-up. Four Poster Bed was due to begin shooting at Haydown on Wednesday, and Niall was committed to a non-stop round of read-throughs, costume-fittings and rehearsals before that. They were both so tied up that finding time to sort out the mess they were in was next to impossible, and out of cowardice they wasted hours discussing the best way to approach their dilemma instead of tackling it head on.

Tash now knew that Lisette’s company, Sleeping Partners Productions, was relying upon the publicity that the
Cheers!
wedding coverage would provide to promote their first feature film. It would be hard enough to cancel the wedding as it was, without the further trauma of extricating Niall from his disastrously misjudged obligation to the glossy coffee-table weekly. But until they tackled that problem, they couldn’t whisper a word to anyone about their decision. The moment it was common knowledge, the promotional deal would collapse like a house of cards and Niall’s career could fall apart with it.

For two days, they stalled for time they didn’t have. Almost out of habit, they still shared the forge, still slept in the same bed – although he crashed into it hours after she did. They slept together like old friends doubling up in a two-man tent on a camping trip. Working flat-out with the horses, Tash was too shattered to care that his warm, heavy arm still crushed her face when she woke each morning, but the situation was ludicrous. Just as they had been terrified of committing to marriage, so it seemed they were equally unwilling to commit themselves to parting.

On Tuesday night, she knew they couldn’t put it off any longer. Dodging wedding talk at the farm was like trying to avoid talking politics in the House of Commons, and Niall was getting increasingly jittery that the Four Poster Bed production secretary had approached him twice that week, eager to get him to agree to
Cheers!
photographing an ‘at home’ spread at the forge.