Peering in vain through the crowd of tourists dawdling along, Marcella leaped to her feet for a better look. The sudden movement, coupled with the brightness of her acid-yellow shift dress, captured Kerr’s attention. Turning his head, he focused first on Marcella before his gaze shifted to Maddy.
‘Where?’ demanded Marcella, desperate to get a glimpse of her favourite actor. ‘I can’t see him!’
Maddy was unable to speak; she couldn’t stop staring at Kerr.
‘What’s he wearing?’ Marcella called out, by now hopping up and down.
What was he wearing? Dark blue suit. Bottle-green shirt. Polished black shoes. Probably his usual aftershave, but from this distance it was impossible to tell. And still he hadn’t moved. What must the brunette be thinking?
More to the point, who was she?
‘Well, I give up,’ Marcella announced, plonking herself back down with a sigh of disappointment. Then she brightened. ‘Oh, I know what else I’ve got to show you!’
In slow motion, Maddy realised what was about to happen. She could read Kerr’s intentions in his dark eyes, knew that he’d reached a decision. He was about to come over and confront Marcella, make her understand that enough was enough, that she wasn’t being fair. Oh God. Maddy felt herself go hot and cold all over; he really did mean to go through with it.
‘How about this?’ Marcella, who’d been delving in her straw basket once more, assumed the air of a conjuror triumphantly producing a rabbit from a hat. ‘Taa-daa,’ she cried, waggling a tiny hand-smocked baby’s outfit on a white hanger. ‘Isn’t it fab? Look at the little cardigan, and the bonnet with the birds on it. They were selling them in the antenatal unit to raise funds for a new scanner. And how about these little leggings, aren’t they just adorable?’ Her eyes alight with joy, Marcella danced the outfit up and down on its hanger. ‘I know I said I wouldn’t buy anything yet, but I just couldn’t resist it.’
Across the street, Kerr had seen it too. The sight of Marcella proudly waving the baby clothes stopped him in his tracks, reminding him why he and Maddy had stopped seeing each other in the first place. For a fraction of a second their eyes locked again, silently acknowledging that it couldn’t happen.
‘They had the most gorgeous little striped bootees as well,’ Marcella confided. ‘I wanted to buy all of them! Will you look at the work that’s gone into that embroidery?’
Feeling as if her heart was about to crack in two, Maddy leaned across the table and dutifully admired the workmanship. Out of the very corner of her eye, she saw Kerr and the brunette moving off down the street.
There really wasn’t a lot of point in torturing herself further, wondering who the very pretty brunette was and what she was doing having lunch with Kerr.
It’s nothing to do with me, Maddy thought resignedly. He’s gone and that’s that.
‘Hooray.’ Marcella abruptly whisked away the baby outfit as a waitress approached with their plates. ‘Food’s here. About time too!’
Chapter 45
The good weather had broken at last and Kate was glad; torrential rain suited her current mood far better than unrelenting sunshine. As she trudged along Main Street, soaked to the skin, Norris veered abruptly off to the left, in the direction of the workshops.
‘Come back,’ Kate groaned, but Norris, with his selective hearing, chose to ignore her.
‘Blimey, you look rough.’ Kate leaned against the doorway of Jake’s workshop, shoulders hunched, hands tucked up inside the sleeves of her grey jersey. Currently drenched with rain, it weighed a ton.
‘Pot, kettle.’ Jake raised an eyebrow and stopped planing the edges of a casket lid. ‘At least I don’t look as if I’ve just crawled out of the River Ash.’
‘I don’t have stubble on my chin,’ countered Kate, because she hadn’t been exaggerating, Jake really was looking dreadful. As well as the three-day growth on his face there were shadows under his eyes. Basically, what with one thing or another, nobody in Ashcombe was currently looking that great.
Apart from Bean and Norris of course, who fancied each other rotten and each thought the other one was gorgeous.
‘Any news about Tiff?’ said Kate, and Jake shook his head.
‘No change.’
‘Have you been up to the hospital?’
Another shake. ‘It’s not my place to interfere,’ said Jake. ‘Juliet’s there with 01— your father.’ He rubbed his jaw with a dusty hand. ‘How about you? Tiff’s your half-brother.’
‘If he opened his eyes and saw me, he’d be scared out of his wits.’ Kate pulled a face. ‘I’m the one who yelled at him, remember, for getting ice cream on my trousers.’
‘How about your mother? Any word yet?’
Kate nodded bleakly; it had been Estelle’s phone call this morning that had propelled her out into the rain.
‘She rang half an hour ago. No idea where from. Not Will’s place, obviously. God, can you believe it?’ Kate blurted out as rain dripped from her fringe and slid down her face. ‘My mother and Will Gifford. What was she thinking of? It’s just ... gross.’
‘It’s not,’ said Jake.
‘Of course it’s gross. She’s my mother!’
‘She’s forty-five,’ Jake pointed out. ‘You’re still allowed to have a sex life, you know. Estelle’s an attractive woman,’ he went on. ‘If I was twenty years older, I’d sleep with her.’
‘You’d sleep with anyone,’ retorted Kate. ‘I’m amazed you haven’t given Theresa Birch a go.’
For the first time, Jake smiled. ‘What makes you think I haven’ t?’
Two hours later when Kate walked into the Angel to start her shift, she found Dexter bawling into the cordless phone.
‘. . and I never want to see you in this pub again,’ he stormed, ‘because you’re all barred.’ Then he attempted to ring off with the equivalent of slamming down the receiver, which basically meant pressing the minuscule Off button really hard.
‘ The bloody nerve of these people,’ Dexter raged, swinging round and glaring at her.
‘Oh, grow up,’ Kate retaliated, not in the mood for his rantings. ‘Listen to yourself. Why can’t you be nice to people just for once in your life?’
‘Why the bloody hell should I be? It’s midday.’ Dexter shook back his hair and jabbed a finger at the clock on the wall. ‘We had a table of eight booked for twelve thirty. They’ve just phoned to cancel. This is how much notice they give me. Let me tell you, I’ll shout at whoever I like.’
‘Except me,’ Kate retorted frostily. ‘You’re shouting at me now and I won’t stand for it.’
‘Ha, this isn’t shouting. Trust me, you’d know if I was shouting at you. What are you so stroppy about anyway?’ Dexter’s tone was accusing.
‘You mean apart from all the other crap that’s going on in my life? You really want me to tell you?’
For a second Kate was actually tempted to blurt out the truth, that just as she’d been on the verge of getting her confidence back, Jake had gone and spoiled it all by informing her that, in effect, he fancied her mother.
Thankfully, pride kicked in. When Dexter said, ‘You can tell me if you want to,’ Kate swallowed hard and shook her head. Some secrets were too embarrassing to share.
It was the quietest lunchtime session Dexter had ever known. By one thirty he’d sent the kitchen staff home. Both the restaurant and the bar area were deserted. He could have sent Kate home as well, but sensed she had neither reason nor incentive to go. Dauncey House was empty too.
Outside, the weather had deteriorated dramatically. The sky was charcoal-grey and a full-blown thunderstorm was raging, flinging rain almost horizontally past the windows and bending the trees like springs.