Chapter 34
By two o’clock, the difference in the garden was noticeable. There was a skip-sized pile of dead branches at the far end, the weeds in the flower beds had been cleared and the grass had been cut. Cal had steered the lawnmower around the clumps of daffodils that randomly dotted the lawn, and now they swayed happily in the sunshine like mini desert islands.
‘It looks fantastic.’ If she’d been perspiring before, Mimi was really sweating now. She raked muddy, grass-stained fingers through the hair that was sticking attractively to the back of her neck. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘What are you, some kind of lightweight? We’re just stopping for lunch,’ said Cal. ‘We haven’t finished yet.’
In the kitchen, they made toasted cheese sandwiches and a chicken salad, then took the food outside to eat at the oak table on the patio. For the last three hours they’d been talking about the work they were doing in the garden, but now they were in danger of having to have an actual conversation about other stuff.
Cal cracked open the two cans of Lilt they’d taken from the fridge and handed one to her. ‘Here you go. Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’ She clinked her can against his. ‘If I hadn’t been looking such a mess, we could have gone over to the Swan and I’d have treated you to a proper lunch.’
‘This’ll do me fine. And you don’t look too horrendous.’
Mimi pulled a face, because she knew she did. ‘Enough of a mess not to want to be seen in public.’
Cal took a bite of his toasted cheese sandwich. When he’d swallowed, he said, ‘So what’s the plan, are you back for good? Or will you be off again as soon as the next job comes along?’
Mimi glanced at him. She’d told Lois her plans last night, but Cal didn’t appear to be aware of them. Unless he did know and was just pretending not to. Because that was the trouble with secret relationships: once you knew two people were seeing each other on the quiet, it made it hard to believe anything they said.
Then again, maybe he and Lois had more interesting things to talk about than Mimi’s boring career plans.
Oh well, he’d asked now. ‘I’m going to set up my own PR agency,’ she said.
‘You are? Wow!’ He definitely looked surprised. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘Nothing massive. Just me, to start with. And I’ll be working from home most of the time.’ She took a gulp of Lilt. ‘But CJ’s videos going viral created quite a bit of interest. I was approached by a couple of big companies, one in Toronto and one in New York, but decided I’d rather go it alone. I’ve been contacted by individual writers and actors asking if they can hire me to promote them, so now seems like the best time to do it.’ She shrugged. ‘Have laptop, no need to travel.’
‘Sounds brilliant. If anyone can make it work, it’s you. And how great that you’ll be staying here.’ Cal’s brown eyes softened; he had such a way of looking at you and making you feel like the most important person in the world. He sounded as if he really meant it, too. Mimi, her heart twisting with regret, reminded herself that he only regarded her as a friend, and by unspoken mutual agreement there would be no mention of the awkward one-sided crush.
She collected herself. ‘Well it’s only going to be great if the plan works out. We’ll just have to see if it does.’ And she popped a cherry tomato into her mouth to signal that the job talk was at an end.
Cal waited for a couple of seconds, then said, ‘You haven’t asked me about Della.’
Oh help, was this where things started getting embarrassing? Mimi chewed and swallowed. ‘What about her?’
‘We broke up.’
‘I know.’
He smiled briefly. ‘Everyone else has been desperate to know why. You haven’t even mentioned it. I thought you might.’
The subtext being: Seeing as you’re the one who fantasises about taking her place.
Mimi said casually, ‘Whatever it was, it’s between you and Della. Nobody else’s business.’
‘This is true.’ He nodded in agreement. ‘But I’ll tell you anyway. Nothing terrible happened. Neither of us did anything awful. It was just a couple of small things that gradually became a few not-quite-so-small things . . . and at the beginning you think maybe you’ll get used to those things and won’t notice them after a while, but as time goes by you kind of realise that isn’t going to happen. Do you know what I mean?’
On the surface, they were behaving as if they were just friends who talked about this kind of stuff to each other. Inside, a swarm of bees had invaded Mimi’s stomach. If she hadn’t bumped into Cora yesterday afternoon and heard the whole Cal and Lois story, imagine how excited the way he was speaking to her now would be making her feel.
But she had, and actually it was just as well, because who knows what embarrassing impulse she might have acted upon otherwise. It didn’t bear thinking about.
‘I do.’ Mimi speared a piece of chicken with her fork. ‘Like those sexy texts she used to send you.’
‘Exactly.’ Cal nodded.
This presumably meant Lois didn’t do that.
Or hadn’t done it yet.
‘And she was very keen on hand-holding in public.’ Cal pulled a face. ‘I mean, all the time, even when it wasn’t practical. I was trying to carry our Christmas tree back to the car in Cirencester and she still kept trying to hold my hand. When it’s not what you’re used to, it feels really strange.’
‘PDAs,’ said Mimi.
‘What?’
‘Public displays of affection. That’s what it’s called.’
‘Public displays of awkwardness, more like.’ Cal’s smile was dry. ‘And the selfies were a bit of a pain, too. It was like nothing had even happened unless it was on Instagram.’
‘Except you didn’t mind when she posted photos of your paintings online.’ Mimi couldn’t help herself; it was only fair to point it out.
‘OK, touché.’ He broke into a grin. ‘Now I feel bad for saying it. She did do me a big favour there. I shouldn’t be saying these things about her now.’
Oh please, don’t stop on my account.
‘I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me,’ said Mimi. ‘I’m discreet.’
Cal looked at her. ‘Me too.’
Was he about to confide in her about his secret relationship with Lois? Mimi tried and failed to read his mind, before realising with a jolt that he was more likely to be referring to her giant not-so-secret crush.
‘Good.’ Her mouth was dry and her tongue had stuck itself to the roof of her mouth, so it came out as ggd.
‘Just so we both know.’ Cal nodded slowly, and this time there was an expression in his brown eyes that she really couldn’t gauge. In a split second Mimi knew she had to say something, because if the look was pity she just couldn’t bear it.
‘OK, I need to say something,’ she blurted out. ‘I didn’t want to, but it has to be done so we can clear the air. That thing Della talked to me about as you were all leaving the pub on Boxing Day . . . I know she’d have told you about it, but it’s all in the past now. It was like one of those things that just come whooshing up out of nowhere and then before you know it, it’s gone again. And that was what happened – it went, and I’m so glad it did. But I wanted you to know. It’s gone and it really is over, as if it was never there in the first place. It’s like I just came to my senses. And it won’t ever happen again, I promise.’
‘Right.’ Cal nodded as she came to a breathless halt. ‘Well, I’m glad it’s all sorted out. That’s good to know.’
‘It was pretty embarrassing,’ Mimi admitted, the can of Lilt creaking in her hand as her grasp tightened. ‘Could we pretend it never happened? Is that OK?’
‘Of course.’ Cal sounded relieved. ‘I really am glad you’re over it now. Everything can get back to normal and we’re never going to mention it again.’ He finished his own drink and passed the last half-slice of toasted cheese sandwich down to Otto, who’d been salivating longingly at his side. With a glance at his watch, he rose to his feet. ‘Right, let’s get back to work on the garden, shall we? See how much more we can get done before Marcus arrives home.’
They worked together for the next hour and a half, and Mimi felt so much better knowing she’d seized the moment and addressed the subject, and that it wouldn’t be referred to again. For now, at least, she could relax. She’d brought Marcus’s radio outside and switched it from his beloved Radio 3 to a channel playing the kind of music they could recognise. As Cal tore clinging strips of variegated ivy from the dry-stone wall separating Bay Cottage from the Old Schoolhouse next door, one of ABBA’s songs came on and Mimi saw Otto’s ears prick up in recognition. Two minutes later, Cal glanced round and saw he was being watched. He straightened up. ‘Are you laughing at me?’
‘Laughing? Me? Nooo.’ Mimi’s eyes danced. ‘I’m wildly impressed. You’re word-perfect.’
‘I don’t have much choice. Two years ago, all I ever heard in the house was One Direction. Last year it was Prince and George Michael.’ He paused to add a huge armful of ripped-away ivy to the overflowing wheelbarrow. ‘And this year Cora’s completely besotted with ABBA. It’s quite hard not to learn every word to every song off by heart.’
‘Could be worse,’ said Mimi. ‘Could have been Val Doonican.’
Cal grinned. ‘Oh it could definitely be worse. ABBA aren’t so bad – I quite like them really. Which reminds me, April the seventeenth. Save the date, you’re invited to a party.’
‘Really? I’ll have to consult my packed social calendar. OK,’ Mimi amended, ‘my completely empty one. Whose party? Yours?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s Cora’s birthday. My baby girl is turning eleven.’
‘Well that’s lovely. But . . . are you sure she’d want me there?’ Mimi hesitated, because what eleven-year-old would want someone as ancient as herself to be asked along?
‘I’m quite sure. She added your name to the list last night. And she took all the invitations off to school with her this morning to get them written during the lunch break. But you know what kids are like, could take a few days before it actually happens. Which is why I’m letting you know now, before you book something else for that night.’
‘But is it going to be, like . . . a whole load of eleven-year-olds?’ Mimi was still baffled as to why she would be included.
‘Ah, of course, you haven’t been to one of Cora’s parties before.’ Cal smiled at her confusion. ‘We hire out the village hall. For the first hour, it’s just Cora and her friends, then after that everyone else turns up and joins in, and we make a proper evening of it.’
‘Well that sounds brilliant. I’d love to come along.’ Mimi was relieved. ‘What a great idea.’
‘Stacey came up with it when Cora was six. She found out that it would cost sixty pounds to hire the hall for three hours, or for an extra tenner we could have it for the whole night. So we did it that way and invited everyone along, and Cora loved every minute. She said it was the best party ever. Then the next year the accident happened and . . . well, there was no party that time. But the following year, Cora asked if we could hire the hall again and do what we’d done before. So that’s what we did, and it was good.’ Cal nodded slowly as he spoke, remembering the occasion. ‘For all of us, really. The kids were jumping around like kids always do, and everyone who’d helped us out since the accident came along, and it kind of made all of us feel as if we could get through what had happened and come out the other side. And since then, Cora’s asked me every year if we can do it again.’ He nodded and said simply, ‘So we do.’
‘That’s so lovely.’ In her head, Mimi added: And so are you.
‘I know it won’t last forever. Two years from now, she’ll be thirteen and we’ll probably get, “Oh God, Dad, no waaay, can’t me and my mates just go off to an all-night rave instead?” But until that day comes,’ said Cal, ‘I’ll carry on giving her the party she wants.’
Don’t cry, mustn’t cry. Mimi managed to maintain control. ‘Of course you will.’
He shrugged. ‘I do the best I can.’
Mimi wanted to say, She’s lucky to have you, but under the circumstances it might sound wrong. Not to sound envious of Cora, she said instead, ‘You’re a good dad.’