Last Orders at the Star and Sixpence Page 30

  ‘You and half the village,’ Nessie had told Kathryn when she’d rung to confirm the band would be arriving midway through Saturday. ‘Martha has had T-shirts printed for her and Ruby that say “Sonic Flames”. I think she’s imagining a worldwide tour!’

  Joss had slipped into his old role with the minimum of fuss and the consummate skill of someone who was at the top of their game, much to Nessie’s relief. She watched him liaise with the cider makers in the marquee, ensuring they had everything they needed and double-checking their pumps were primed and ready to supply the hordes of thirsty visitors set to descend on Little Monkham. What would they have done without him, she wondered, trying not to imagine the chaos that Laurie might have caused. In the kitchen, Gabe had finally taken delivery of ingredients for the special Sausage Fest menu he’d planned to go across the weekend; Nessie spent even more hours awake the night before wondering whether she’d somehow managed to get that order wrong too. It had been a relief when it turned up, all present and correct, just before she left to meet Owen at midday.

  She knew what he had planned the moment she saw him, picnic hamper in hand and a tartan rug tucked under his arm. ‘Let me take that,’ she said, reaching for the hamper, but he swung it out of her reach.

  ‘You’re in charge of the drinks,’ he said, tilting his head towards another bag on the ground beside the back door of Snowdrop Cottage. ‘Try not to shake it up too much.’

  Champagne, Nessie thought, when she saw the foiled bottle top poking out of the bag and a little shiver of delight ran through her. ‘I’ll do my best,’ she said gravely. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ Owen said. ‘Ready?’

  The sun was hot and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky; the Met Office had been as good as their word with the predicted heatwave. Nessie fanned her face as Owen led her alongside the village green, past Martha’s bakery and St Mary’s Church, and across the bridge that spanned the river. She knew where they were going long before he turned off into the blissfully cool woods; how long had it been since they’d last done this – it must be well over a year, surely, and maybe even two?

  ‘I wonder if we’ll see Squirrel Nutkin again,’ she said, as the green canopy over their heads rustled and shimmered in the slight breeze. ‘Do you remember?’

  He glanced at her then and the warmth of his gaze caused her cheeks to heat up. ‘I remember.’

  It had been their first date, Nessie thought, although it hadn’t felt like one at the time. Sam and Kathryn had manipulated Owen into taking her for a walk in the woods; the two matchmakers had even packed a surprise picnic, in the hope that it might encourage romance to bloom. And Owen had kissed her for the first time then too, before being overcome with guilt about his dead wife, Eliza. They were taking the same route today, Nessie realised with a jolt. Surely Owen didn’t mean to have their picnic by the same waterfall as before?

  ‘I’m sure you recognise the path,’ Owen said, glancing at her as though reading her mind. ‘But so much has changed since the last time we were here. I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.’

  She opened her mouth to reassure him, but the right words didn’t come. ‘A bit,’ she said, and instantly wished she could take it back. ‘What I mean is, I know this was a special place for you and Eliza. I don’t want to intrude on your memories, that’s all.’

  Owen was quiet for a moment. ‘I’ve thought about the time you and I came here quite a lot lately,’ he said eventually, his lilting voice solemn. ‘And I don’t think I was very fair to you, Nessie. In fact, I often wish I had a time machine so I could go back and do it all differently.’

  Nessie held her breath, waiting for him to go on, but he was silent as they turned the corner and the crystal-clear waterfall came into view, exactly as she remembered. There’d been a carpet of bluebells then; she could still see flashes of colour here and there, but it was later in the year than it had been before. The scene was no less beautiful, however, and she took a moment to savour it.

  ‘This way,’ Owen said and guided her across the rocks to the exact spot he’d laid the picnic blanket last time.

  Nessie tried to squash her anxiety. She didn’t dare speak as they unpacked, sensing that Owen had more to say. But it wasn’t until he’d popped the cork on the champagne and handed her a brimming glass of golden buttery bubbles that he seemed ready to continue.

  ‘I used to think Eliza was here,’ he said, gazing at the babbling water that tumbled across the slick grey stones. ‘And maybe she was, for a while. But she wasn’t here the day we had our first picnic and . . . well, I’m not proud to admit that I used her memory as an excuse. I knew I’d fallen in love with you, but I was too scared to acknowledge it. So I let myself believe it was too soon to meet someone else. And I treated you badly.’

  His forehead was heavy with lines that Nessie longed to smooth away. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, feeling her own anxiety lessen as she understood at last. ‘None of that matters now.’

  ‘Except that it does,’ Owen insisted. ‘I’ll never forget Eliza – how could I when I see her every time I look at Luke? But I think it’s time I stopped hiding behind her.’

  Nessie’s eyes misted up as she studied him. ‘I would never expect you to forget her, Owen. And I’ll always be grateful to her for Luke – he’s such a wonderful boy and I am so very honoured to be part of his life.’

  Owen managed a wavering smile. ‘Thank you. I know he loves you too, in the same way that he loved Eliza.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘But I also think it’s time to let the past go, once and for all.’

  Placing his glass on a nearby rock, he reached in his pocket. Nessie felt a stab of mingled shock and unreality as she saw the small, emerald-green velvet box nestled in his palm.

  ‘I love you, Nessie Chapman,’ he said, lifting the lid to reveal a sparkling emerald and diamond ring. ‘Will you marry me?’

  She almost dropped her glass of champagne as she stared first at him and then at the ring. The breath caught in her lungs, she couldn’t speak. The air around her seemed to freeze. The birds stopped singing. And then a gurgle of wild delight bubbled up from somewhere deep inside and she gasped out her reply. ‘Yes! Oh, yes, I will!’

  The glass was taken from her hand then and Owen was kissing her, his lips gentle and adoring. Seconds later, he drew back and took her left hand in his, easing the ring onto the third finger where it sat as though it had been made for her. She gazed at it in awe for a moment, then up at him. ‘Is this real?’

  He smiled and kissed her again. ‘I hope it’s real. I’ve been waiting a long time to ask that question. I’m glad you said yes.’

  Letting go of her hand, he collected the champagne flutes again and passed one to her. ‘Here’s to new memories,’ he said, touching his glass to hers.

  ‘Here’s to us,’ she whispered back, as tears of joy tumbled down her cheeks.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  It took Sam less than five minutes to work out what was different about Nessie when she came back after the picnic. The first clue was her slightly dazed expression; for a few seconds, Sam worried she and Owen had fallen out again, but there was a glow in her sister’s eyes that suggested otherwise. Maybe they’d done more than just picnic in the fresh air, she thought in amusement; good for them. And then Nessie reached for a pint glass to serve Henry and a flash of green caught Sam’s eye. She swallowed a squeak of excitement, checking to make sure it had been Nessie’s left hand, and then hovered impatiently at her elbow until she’d finished serving Henry.

  ‘What?’ Nessie said, meeting Sam’s avid gaze with an air of not-quite-suppressed happiness.

  ‘You need to take a coffee break,’ Sam said in a firm tone.

  Nessie laughed. ‘I’ve only just come back from lunch!’

  Sam glanced along the bar to where Tilly and Laurie were chatting with Father Goodluck. ‘They can manage for a few minutes.’ Her gaze dropped to the ring sparkling on Nessie’s finger
. ‘I want to hear every detail. Every single one.’

  A hint of rosy pink tinged Nessie’s cheeks and she buried her hand behind her back. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘It’s far too late for that,’ Sam said, grinning. She ran a hand over her swollen belly. ‘Come on. If I can’t have a love life of my own, at least I can get a vicarious thrill through yours.’

  Nessie refused to say a word until they were sitting around the kitchen table upstairs. Even then, she checked Joss and Gabe were nowhere to be seen before she relayed the details of Owen’s proposal.

  ‘Oh,’ Sam said, her eyes moistening when Nessie told her what he’d said about making new memories. ‘Oh, Ness, I’m so thrilled for you. Congratulations!’

  ‘We’re keeping it quiet for now,’ Nessie said, staring down at the ring as though she was surprised to find it there. ‘Obviously, we want Luke to know first, and Kathryn when she gets here tomorrow.’

  Sam’s mouth quirked. ‘Good luck with hiding it from Ruby. She can spot a diamond at a hundred metres.’

  Nessie sighed. ‘I should take it off, shouldn’t I? But I like seeing it there – it reassures me I didn’t dream the whole thing.’

  ‘It’s either that or wear gloves for the next twenty-four hours,’ Sam replied. ‘But your secret is safe with me, as long as you promise not to have a whirlwind engagement.’ She gestured at her stomach. ‘I don’t want to look like this in the wedding photos.’

  ‘Deal,’ Nessie said. ‘You will be my maid of honour, won’t you?’

  Sam laughed. ‘I think it’s a bit late for me to be maid of anything, Ness. But I’d be honoured to be part of your day.’

  And now it was Nessie’s turn to laugh. ‘Matron of honour, then.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Sam said. ‘I can channel my inner Hattie Jacques. Be very afraid for the hen party!’

  *

  By six o’clock, the cider festival was well underway. Sam watched from the doorway of the marquee, noting the pleasingly packed benches and crowds around the pumps. The beautiful weather was doing its part; outside, Gabe was already doing a roaring trade at the Sausage Fest stand and the smell alone was enough to make Sam’s stomach rumble. Ferrelli’s, the Cornish ice-cream stall, was doing a brisk trade too – Sam made a mental note to try their Afternoon Cream Tea gelato before the weekend was over. But right now, she couldn’t wait for darkness to fall so she could switch on the twinkling fairy lights that wreathed the trees and hear the music and laughter that would fill the air; it was one of her favourite things about the Star and Sixpence events that spilled out onto the village green.

  ‘It’s not looking too bad, is it?’

  She turned to see Joss at her shoulder, gazing around with an attitude of obvious satisfaction.

  He winked. ‘I obviously haven’t lost my touch.’

  Sam laughed in spite of herself. ‘Yes, it’s all down to you. How are things in the cellar? Has Connor kept up to your exacting standards?’

  ‘He runs a tight ship,’ Joss said approvingly. ‘I’ve got no complaints.’

  ‘Good,’ Sam said. ‘We were lucky to get him after you left. The fire brigade’s loss is our gain.’

  Joss gave her a sideways look but said nothing. They stood in companionable silence; it might have taken some adjustment, Sam reflected, but it had been good for both of them to work together again. And it didn’t hurt to be reminded how well they’d got on professionally before emotions and jealousy had soured everything; apart from anything else, it gave her hope that they might make a decent job of parenting too.

  Joss obviously felt the same way because he touched her arm. ‘It’s great to be back, Sam. Thanks for letting me help out.’

  ‘There wasn’t anyone else for the job,’ Sam said, smiling. ‘As much as it pains me to admit it, you are the best cellarman I know.’

  He accepted the compliment with an uncharacteristically modest shrug. ‘I know. But I appreciate the gesture.’ His blue eyes met hers and he hesitated. ‘Thanks for letting me be part of your life again.’

  Sam rested a hand on the top of her bump. ‘You might not feel that way when you’re up to your eyes in dirty nappies and you haven’t slept for a month.’

  His gaze was steady. ‘I’m pretty sure I will.’

  The baby chose that moment to kick. Impulsively, Sam reached out to guide Joss’s hand to her stomach. ‘Feel that?’

  Joss’s eyes widened. ‘Yes! Wow, that’s some kick – is it that strong all the time?’

  ‘Not all the time,’ she replied and pulled a face. ‘Usually only at three o’clock in the morning.’

  ‘Oh,’ Joss said, not moving his hand. ‘I had no idea. Sorry about that.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ Sam said gently. ‘I like it. It’s as though he or she is reassuring me that everything is okay.’

  He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a meaningful cough. Gabe was standing nearby, his expression unreadable. ‘Sorry to disturb you, but Tilly says the Thirsty Bishop needs changing.’

  ‘No problem,’ Joss said easily, his hand falling from the stretched fabric of Sam’s T-shirt. ‘I’ll get right on it.’

  With a swift smile at Sam, he made his way out of the tent. Gabe made to follow, but Sam stopped him. ‘Everything okay at Sausage Central?’

  He nodded stiffly. ‘Fine. Bucky is putting his big brown eyes to good use – you won’t need to feed him all weekend.’

  ‘Oh, is he being a pest?’ Sam exclaimed. ‘I can take him inside if he is.’

  Gabe shook his head. ‘People love him. And Luke is looking after him – they’re practically inseparable.’

  Sam laughed. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if that boy plans to steal Bucky away someday.’

  But Gabe didn’t join in with her laughter. Instead, he stared at the ground, lips tight. ‘You and Joss seem to be getting along well.’

  ‘We are,’ Sam said, feeling the start of a frown tug at her forehead. ‘I don’t think we have much choice.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Gabe answered, just a little too fast. ‘Especially since we are all flatmates now.’

  ‘Temporarily,’ Sam said, staring at him. ‘Until Connor comes back.’

  He looked at her then. ‘And when the baby comes? I don’t know about Joss, but if it were me, I’d want to be as close as possible to my newborn child.’

  It was a question Sam had given some thought to, not least because Joss had suggested more than once that he and Sam should consider getting back together for the sake of the baby. ‘It’s true that he plans to move back to Little Monkham,’ she told Gabe. ‘But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll live at the Star and Sixpence. We don’t have room, for a start.’

  Gabe was silent for a moment, as though trying to work out how to frame his words. ‘You would if I moved out.’

  The thought almost caused Sam to rock back on her heels. ‘Move out? But that’s not . . . I don’t . . .’ She stopped and took a breath. ‘Why would you even think that?’

  His brown eyes were candid. ‘It makes sense, Sam. You and Joss need the space and I don’t really need to be on the premises overnight.’

  But I need you to be there, Sam thought desperately, but pushed the thought away. Maybe Gabe was sick of being at her beck and call 24/7. Maybe he’d grown tired of cooking her breakfast each day, saying goodnight every evening. Maybe he’d lost interest in her.

  ‘Of course you can move out, if that’s what you want,’ she said, and now it was her turn to sound stiff. She tried to soften her voice, ‘I’d miss you, obviously.’

  Several seconds passed before he answered. ‘That’s the thing,’ he said, so quietly that she had to lean forward to hear. ‘I don’t think you would.’

  He was gone before she could respond, leaving her to stare after him in hurt and bewilderment. She’d known for some time that her own feelings towards Gabe were jumbled and complicated and much more than platonic, but she hadn’t suspected he might feel the same about her. Could
it be that he was jealous of Joss, of the role he would undoubtedly play in her life once the baby came? And short of confessing to Gabe the tumultuous mess of feelings she had for him, what on earth could Sam do about it?

  *

  Sam didn’t see much of Joss or Gabe for the rest of the evening, something she was wearily grateful for. At Nessie’s insistence, she’d gone over to a deserted Snowdrop Cottage and spent a blissful few hours dozing on the sofa and failing to follow the latest BBC crime drama. By the time Owen and Luke came home and woke her, it was almost closing time. Stretching, she gathered up the glossy magazine that had slithered to the floor as she slept, thanked Owen for the use of his sofa and made her way over to the Star and Sixpence to help close up.

  ‘Leave that,’ Nessie told her, when Sam eased behind the bar and reached for a cloth to wipe down the sticky surface. ‘Laurie can do it. Go and sit down.’

  ‘I’ve been sitting down all evening,’ Sam said, looking round for something else to do. There was no sign of Gabe; she assumed he was either finishing up in the kitchen or had taken himself off to bed so he wouldn’t have to look at her. Joss was conspicuous by his absence too, although the sound of distant clattering suggested he was busy in the cellar. ‘Is Laurie still here, then?’

  ‘Somewhere,’ Nessie said as she extracted the till drawer and balanced it on one hip. ‘Tilly has taken Bucky for a quick walk around the green.’

  ‘She’s a good girl,’ Sam said and nodded at the cash drawer. ‘So how is it looking?’

  Nessie followed her gaze. ‘Pretty good. I won’t know for sure until I’ve checked the figures from the marquee system, but there were certainly plenty of happy faces around tonight.’ She threw Sam a sympathetic look. ‘You missed Sax Appeal’s set – they seemed to go down well with the crowd.’

  ‘I’ve heard them before,’ Sam reminded her. ‘The band I don’t want to miss is Kathryn’s tomorrow night – I won’t be sprawled out on your sofa then, believe me.’

  Nessie nodded. ‘All the more reason to get some beauty sleep now. Go on – it’s been a long day and tomorrow will be even busier. We can manage down here.’