I had made a point of asking Catherine and Angus not to come up to town for the party. I knew it was going to end up being a raucous affair and not their sort of celebration at all. After initially shrugging off my concerns and insisting that missing out wouldn’t be right, Catherine sensed my discomfiture and agreed to stay away, but she made me promise that Gavin and I would join her and Angus for dinner at the hall the following week. The rest of the clan were coming, but none of them were going to be able to make it until the evening was in full swing.
‘Anna and I have a conference call at seven,’ Jamie had told me earlier in the day, ‘but we’ll be along with Molly the second it’s over.’
‘It’s fine,’ I had told him, because I didn’t mind at all. Running the charity had proved to be full-on, and regular working hours had flown out of the window for my friends.
‘There’s no rush,’ I reassured him. ‘I wouldn’t put it past Jim to call for a lock-in, so there’ll be plenty of time to toast the happy couple.’
‘Dorothy and I will look in together,’ Mick had later explained when we were on our own. ‘It’s a shame Gavin couldn’t pick you up from work today. The pair of you should be getting ready and arriving together. I’m still annoyed that he thinks it’s acceptable to put a drinking session with his mates before you.’
Like me, Mick had heard the rumours about Gavin so he, more than anyone else at the hall, was aware of the wide boy reputation Gavin had earned for himself during the last few years. I still hadn’t managed to convince him that my fiancé had turned over a new leaf, but I hoped the fact that Gavin had decided to put me before pre-drinks would settle some of his fears.
As I walked into town with Gavin on my arm, him sober as a judge and with eyes only for me, I couldn’t help wishing that Mick could be there to see it for himself.
The Mermaid, beautifully dressed for the occasion and with a fire burning merrily in the grate, looked both warm and welcoming, in spite of the underlying whiff of egg.
‘Evening, you two,’ said Jim, rushing round from behind the bar to relieve us of our coats. ‘Is this all right for the pair of you?’
‘It’s perfect,’ I told him. ‘Thank you, Jim. I know how much work you and Evelyn have put into all this.’
‘And look at the size of these sandwiches,’ laughed Gavin, pointing at a platter packed with sarnies large enough to satisfy even my father’s perpetually rumbling guts.
‘They were the wife’s idea,’ chuckled Jim. ‘She reckoned some of the guests might not appreciate the delicate light bites some of us more refined folk favour.’
We all laughed and I moved further along the table before turning to admire the exquisite banner that was hanging above the bar.
‘Where did that come from?’ I asked.
‘Lizzie at the Cherry Tree Café,’ Jim beamed. ‘She dropped it off earlier. Do you like it?’
The intricately painted artwork stretched from one side of the bar to the other and had mine and Gavin’s names cleverly entwined.
‘It’s absolutely gorgeous,’ I sniffed, as hot tears pricked the back of my eyes. ‘I wasn’t expecting anything as pretty as this.’
Gavin came and stood next to me again. He picked up my hand and kissed it.
‘If you weren’t so secretive about your talents,’ he whispered in my ear, ‘you could have made something like that yourself.’
I knew he was right, but I couldn’t have bettered Lizzie’s efforts. I was just about to say as much when the pub door was thrown open and Jemma, the Cherry Tree Café owner, reversed in, carrying what looked like a huge cake box.
‘I’m sorry I’m late!’ she shouted. ‘It’s been manic today. Customers are already asking about the Christmas menu and festive afternoon teas, so we’ve been completely snowed under.’
She carefully passed the box over to Jim and whipped off her coat.
‘No pun intended,’ she added, with a smile as she abandoned the coat and took the box back again. ‘Seriously, though,’ she gushed, ‘I can’t believe Christmas is almost here. It only feels like five minutes since we were packing the decorations up from last year. Now,’ she added, turning to me and Gavin and sounding slightly calmer as she took a breath, ‘where would you like it?’
I couldn’t answer her because I didn’t know what it was.
‘Evelyn has left a space in the middle,’ said Jim, stepping in. ‘Pride of place, right near the front.’
I felt a bit of a spare part just standing there, but I had no idea what was going on. I looked at Gavin and he pulled me closer. Given the smug expression he was wearing, I guessed he knew exactly what was happening.
‘I hope you like it, Hayley,’ said Jemma, reverently lifting the lid to reveal the prettiest engagement cake I had ever seen. It was decorated in much the same style as Lizzie’s banner and looked almost too good to eat. ‘Gavin wanted it to be a surprise, although, to be honest, I thought he would have let the cat out of the bag by now.’
‘Oh,’ I gasped, squeezing my arms tighter around Gavin’s waist as she carefully arranged the cake in the gap among the cocktail sausages and other things on sticks. ‘It’s beautiful!’
‘I had a feeling you’d like it,’ said Gavin, proudly.
‘I love it,’ I told him.
Jemma let out a sigh of relief and stood back to admire her handiwork. I hadn’t been expecting a bespoke cake and felt thrilled that Gavin had gone to the trouble of sorting one out. The style and decorations were perfect and, again, I couldn’t wait to sing my fiancé’s praises to Mick. If this gesture didn’t quash his concerns that my betrothed was still a bit of a playboy at heart, then nothing would.
‘Do you mind if I give you the bill now?’ Jemma continued, retrieving her coat and pulling out an envelope from the pocket. ‘I know I’ll forget later and you said you wanted to pay straightaway, didn’t you, Gavin?’
‘I did,’ he nodded, whipping the envelope out of sight before I had a chance to look at it. ‘I’ll call around to the café first thing tomorrow to settle up. And the same goes for the buffet bill, Jim,’ he added.
I looked back at the table and tried to do a quick calculation of what the total amount we’d be shelling out for the evening would be. It was doubtless going to make a fair dent in our meagre savings.
‘Hey now, don’t look so worried,’ Gavin told me as I let out a long sigh. ‘It’s all in hand.’
Jemma and Jim moved a discreet distance away.
‘But this lot won’t come cheap, will it?’ I frowned, biting my lip. ‘And we’ve only just started saving—’
‘Hey,’ cut in Gavin, as he stuffed Jemma’s envelope deeper into his pocket. ‘Listen here, Hayley. We can always earn more money, can’t we?’
‘I guess,’ I shrugged.
‘But tonight,’ he said, reaching for my hands, ‘celebrating our engagement, well, this is a one-off.’
He was right.
‘And I want it to be special,’ he smiled. ‘I want this to be a night we’ll never forget.’
‘Of course,’ I smiled back as I heard the pub door open and our guests begin to arrive. ‘So do I.’
I was amazed to discover that Mum had managed to get Dad off the sofa, into a clean shirt and out of the house with what appeared to be minimal fuss.
‘I’ll go and collect the buffet bill from Jim now,’ said Gavin, kissing my cheek as he let me go. ‘Why don’t you find your parents somewhere to sit?’
‘Hayley, I wasn’t sure about that dress,’ said Mum, looking me up and down as we bagged her and Dad a table. ‘I didn’t think it would suit you, but, actually, it fits the new you very well.’
‘The new me?’ I questioned, trying not to feel too taken aback by such an overt compliment about my outfit. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘She means you’ve gone soft,’ said Dad bluntly.
‘That’s not what I mean at all,’ tutted Mum, shaking her head.
I looked at her and raised my eyebrows.
‘Well, I suppose it sort of is,’ she shrugged. ‘Since that girl Anna arrived on the scene, you’ve been changing.’
Not all that long ago I would have jumped on that suggestion and stamped it out, but Mum was right. Having watched Anna and Jamie fall in love and seeing for myself first-hand how a relationship could grow into a solid partnership, I had dropped my defences low enough to allow love into my own life. For years I had stuck to my ‘guys are for fun’ mantra, but now I was engaged to Gavin and had somehow secured a fairy-tale romance for myself. Maybe I hadn’t gone soft as my dad had suggested, I’d just grown up.
‘Well, I hope I’ve changed for the better,’ I began to say, but Dad cut me off.
‘You want to be careful,’ he warned, ‘you’re getting ideas above your station, still working at that place. You need to remember, girl, you’re one of us, not one of them.’
God help me, I thought, but I didn’t say it. It wasn’t all that long ago that Mum would have agreed with him, but I wasn’t the only one who’d changed; her attitude towards Wynthorpe Hall and the family who lived there had too.
‘I’ve told you before,’ Dad droned on, making for the bar, ‘you’re lucky to have found a man willing to marry you after what you did at school. You want to keep hold of him, not scare him off by putting on airs and graces.’
‘Ignore him,’ hissed Mum, sensing I was about to retaliate. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction of a row. Not tonight. He’s only saying all this to wind you up. You know how he loves to make a scene.’
She was right, of course. I bit back my blunt retort and took a few deep breaths instead. The new Hayley might have been slightly softer around the edges but where my dad was concerned, the old version was still poised to strike when provoked.
‘Have you lost that fella of yours already?’ quizzed my auntie Jenny when she spotted Mum and me sitting alone at the table. ‘That’s not a very good start, Hayley, is it?’
‘He’s gone to talk to Jim,’ I told her, looking across to where he had been standing by the bar.
There was no sign of him now, though, and the place was starting to fill up.
‘Never mind her,’ said Dad, dismissing me and handing Auntie Jenny half a pint of Guinness, which was her favourite tipple. ‘It’s a free bar for the first hour, Jen. Make the most of it.’
‘It isn’t free, Dad,’ I tutted. ‘Gavin and I are picking up the tab.’
‘Same thing,’ he shrugged.
‘Yes,’ I snapped, ‘I suppose it is, but bear in mind that, the more that gets drunk, the more we have to shell out, which means less in the family pot for the next few weeks.’
It took a few seconds for the penny to drop, but he got there in the end and looked as if he bitterly regretted going around telling everyone to drink up because it was on the house.
‘Here he is!’ shouted my aunt, before Dad had a chance to start snatching back glasses, ‘my fabulous nephew-in-law to be!’
She sounded as if she’d downed more than half a pint.
‘Looks like someone’s pre-drinks got out of hand,’ Gavin whispered, making me giggle as he came and stood next to me.
‘And talking of pre-drinks,’ I said, nodding over to where half a dozen of his mates had just fallen through the pub door. ‘Go and have a word, will you?’ I begged. ‘I don’t want them getting out of hand.’
‘I’ll try,’ he promised, ‘but I won’t get far if they’re still in a mood about me dumping them.’
‘Silly sods,’ I tutted. ‘Tell them we’re not at school anymore. We’re grown-ups now.’
A noisy cheer went up as Gavin joined his gang, which left me thinking that, at least if they’d filled up on vodka shots at home, they wouldn’t be adding quite so much to our bar bill.
Having to eventually pay for their own drinks didn’t stop our guests enjoying the evening and, a couple of hours later, the party was in full swing, and the noise level had risen sharply along with the number of empty glasses. I looked around at the merry crowd, but there was still no sign of the Wynthorpe crew. I guessed Jamie and Anna’s conference call was taking longer than expected, but I hoped Mick and Dorothy would be along soon.
‘Isn’t it about time you said a few words and cut this lovely cake?’ said Mum leaning on the table to admire Jemma’s skill with a piping bag. ‘Where’s Gavin?’
I hadn’t seen as much of him since his mates arrived, and guessed he was probably outside having one of the crafty cigarettes he had promised me he could live without, and which would save us a small fortune if he could. Or he might have been talking to his parents who had, unsurprisingly, taken a table as far away from mine as was humanly possible.
‘I’ll go and find him,’ I told Mum firmly, ‘when you’ve promised me you won’t have any more to drink.’
She was beginning to look a little worse for wear and I knew from years of experience that if there was one thing guaranteed to kick off a Hurren domestic, it was an excess of alcohol. Dad already looked well on his way to being drunk, and if Mum headed the same way I knew Gavin and I were going to spend the night acting as referees rather than snuggled under the duvet planning what to include on our wedding list.
‘I’ll just have one more glass,’ Mum hiccupped, ‘to toast you and Gavin.’
I looked at her and narrowed my eyes. I supposed I could hardly deny her that. Not that long ago, she wouldn’t have been bothered about toasting my future happiness at all. I had worked hard to repair some of the damage my teenage transgressions had caused, and the new me wasn’t about to let old arguments flare up again.
‘OK,’ I relented, ‘I’ll go and find Gavin, but don’t you drink another sip until we’re cutting the cake.’
‘All right,’ she nodded, plonking down her half-empty wine glass. ‘Not another drop will pass my lips until you’ve cracked open the champagne.’
‘Now who’s putting on airs and graces!’ I laughed, mimicking my dad. ‘Champagne indeed. You’ll have Prosecco and like it!’
Gavin wasn’t out front having a cigarette and he wasn’t in the pub garden, either, so that only left one place. I squeezed my way past the well-wishers and through the door that led down the corridor to the loos. I was just about to walk in when I hit a brick wall.
Well, not a brick wall, exactly, but a pretty solid barrier nonetheless.
‘Shit,’ said the wall, catching me by the top of my arms as I ricocheted back almost as far as the bar. ‘I’m so sorry. Did I stand on you?’
‘No,’ I said, pulling myself free and catching my breath. ‘Not quite.’
My eyes travelled slowly from what I could now see was a torso, up to a chest that was as broad as it was firm, and finally came to rest on a face: rugged, frowning and bearded. I didn’t recognise the brown and brooding eyes as local. Someone of this stature wouldn’t be easy to forget, but there was something vaguely familiar about him nonetheless. I couldn’t help thinking he looked like a strong-man competitor; a Canadian lumberjack or something. The red and black checked shirt he was wearing readily supported the stereotype.
‘I’m really sorry,’ the man-wall apologised, ‘I didn’t expect . . .’
‘Someone to be on the other side of the door?’
‘You do know this is the gents, don’t you?’ he said, pointing at the sign as I tried to get around him.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I do know.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t go in if I were you,’ he said, still not letting me pass. ‘I’d give it a minute or two at least.’
‘Nice,’ I said, wrinkling my nose.
‘No,’ he said, a blush blooming beneath the beard, ‘that’s not what I meant. There’s a couple in one of the cubicles. I think you had better leave them to it.’
I knew it couldn’t possibly be Gavin, but, for some reason, I felt duty-bound to make absolutely sure.
‘It’s all right,’ I told the lumberjack. ‘I’ll be really quiet. Whoever it is in there won’t hear a squeak out of me.’
‘Fair enough,’ he shrugged, finally letting me through as he headed back to the bar.
I tiptoed inside and held my breath as I waited for a sound to prove that it wasn’t my devoted fiancé on the other side of the door. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was sure the couple in the cubicle were going to hear me before I heard them. After what felt like minutes rather than seconds, there was a shallow panting, followed by a gasp and then a husky moan.
‘Gavin, oh god, Gavin . . .’
As the shock hit home and the sharp tang of bile forced its way to the back of my throat I realised it was Sharon, that cow, from the chip shop. I’d recognise her dulcet tones anywhere, even in the throes of quickie passion in the pub.
‘We better make this a good one,’ Gavin groaned in response to whatever she was doing. I clapped my hands over my mouth to stop myself crying out, but for a very different reason to Sharon the slag. ‘This is my last chance for a bit extra, so give it all you’ve got, girl.’
What a charmer. I was going to knock his block off once I’d ripped down the cubicle door.
‘You said that the weekend after you proposed to her,’ Sharon panted.
I could hear the amusement in her tone and thought I was going to be sick. That was the final straw.
‘Gavin!’ I bawled, hammering hard on the door with my balled-up fist. ‘You bastard!’
My battle cry was met with stunned silence, and part of me wanted to peer over the top of the door to take a snapshot of their faces.
‘I’m leaving now,’ I said more calmly, ‘don’t forget to pick up the bar bill from Jim. You can pay for that, the buffet and the cake at the same time.’
I couldn’t believe how cool and in-control I sounded. I certainly didn’t feel it.
‘But I’ll need your signature to access the savings account,’ came Gavin’s pathetic voice through the door. ‘I don’t think I can get to the money without you.’
I couldn’t believe that was the only thing he had to say to me. The old Hayley, the one Mum had reminded me about earlier, who was now reserved solely for retaliating against my dad, would have ripped the door from its hinges and then done the same to him. The air would have been blue with expletives, hair would have been pulled and clothes would have been flushed, assuming the pair had any time to remove them.
But I wasn’t that person anymore; the person who would retaliate, make Gavin look a fool and announce Sharon as a whore to everyone in earshot. That person no longer had a place here, and the new model who had stepped in to fill her shoes was heading for hurt, heartbreak and humiliation if she didn’t act fast.
I left them to their special moment, slipped unseen behind the bar, grabbed my coat and bag and walked out without a word.