Chapter 17
‘Are you sure she’ll be okay if we slip away?’ Holly hesitated in the becolumned portico of Sarandon Hall, music, laughter and the chiming of cut glass echoing out of the French windows into the summer’s evening.
‘Elsie’s in her element, Holls. I doubt she’ll even notice until it’s time to call it a night and I’ll be right back here to pick her up. Promise,’ Taffy reassured her.
Holly nodded, feeling a little guilty that she simply couldn’t stomach yet another round of amuse-bouche, particularly following the platters of oysters that had had her reeling back in her chair at the salty aroma alone. Or indeed another volley of conversational one-upmanship.
Taffy held open the car door and made sure she was settled inside, his natural chivalry having been seemingly ramped up to Defcon 3 now that she was pregnant. ‘Home?’ he asked. ‘Only, we have a babysitter for the night, and an evening at The Kingsley Arms might be just the antidote we both need?’
He made a valid point, thought Holly as they wove through the lush green lanes back towards Larkford. The opulence of Sarandon Hall was almost cloying – stunning, undoubtedly – but leaving one in need of a palate cleanser of normality.
‘Chips,’ she decided. ‘Let’s go to the pub and eat chips.’
Teddy Kingsley was an astute businessman and an award-winning chef, his bonhomie and flair more than compensating for his almost chronic lack of common sense. Having just returned from Florence, where the temperatures were bouncing up into the forties, he had come home enthused with ideas to help his patrons through the recent hot weather. As the mercury hit thirty in Larkford, even well into the evening, Teddy had decided to employ Italian tactics.
And so, as Holly and Taffy walked into the pub garden, it was to find Teddy, Dan and Jason looping swathes of pockmarked hosepipe through the trees and the rafters over the patio. Teddy had a rather serious-looking spike tucked behind his ear and welcomed them both with a wave and a grin, wobbling perilously up a stepladder.
‘Evening! You’re just in time to see my new cooling system.’ He clambered down to ground level and gave Holly a kiss on both cheeks. ‘All the cafés in Florence have them – just a fine mist of cool water in the air. It’s genius, really. Cools everybody right down, and I don’t know about you but when it comes to this heat, you definitely can have too much of a good thing.’
Teddy attempted to blow his floppy, sun-kissed fringe from his eyes, but it was already plastered to his forehead. ‘If you grab a table, I’ll get you some drinks. I’ve got a few new Italian specials on the menu. Maybe a Bellini or a—’
‘Just ginger ale and some chips for me, Teddy,’ said Holly, glancing up at the loops of hosepipe. ‘This is going to be fabulous. You’ll have everyone flocking here if this weather continues. Did they talk you through how it works? Is it pressurised or something, to get the tiny droplets atomised?’
Teddy looked wrong-footed for a moment. ‘Oh, erm, I mean – well, how complicated can it be? I’m good with this kind of thing – all common sense really—’
Holly and Taffy looked at each other in wry amusement, Holly edging discreetly towards a table that enjoyed less . . . well, coverage . . .
‘Oh and get Taffy one of those fabulous Cola Coolers—’ Dan called after him, as Teddy headed inside to the bar, scratching his head like Stan Laurel as he glanced up distrustfully at his ‘cooling system’.
‘Why are you two all dressed up in your glad rags then?’ asked Dan, perching on the bench beside Holly.
‘Ah, therein lies a tale—’ said Taffy, about to launch into a somewhat embellished version of the evening’s events.
‘Taster session for Elsie at Sarandon Hall,’ said Holly succinctly at the same time, earning herself a stern look from her beloved.
‘Argh, you’ve just wasted a perfectly good anecdote there, Holls,’ Taffy protested. ‘The mileage from this evening could have kept Dan here entertained for hours.’
‘Sorry,’ said Holly, wrinkling her nose apologetically.
Dan just hooted. ‘Well then, I guess I owe Holly a drink. Is it as pretentious up there as everybody says? I mean, if you look past the stunning luxury and general fabulousness that I will never afford in a million years?’ Dan had rather hit the nail on the head right there, because half of the sniffy opposition to the Hall did tend to come from those who knew it was well beyond their means and therefore tried to eschew all it stood for, whilst at the same time pressing their faces longingly to the glass.
Holly nodded. ‘I do hope Elsie knows what she’s doing. I know she’s missing her friends, but she’s no ordinary pensioner, is she? Even amongst that set? She’s an individual!’
Dan nodded. ‘But if there’s one thing we’ve learned about Elsie Townsend, it’s that she knows her own mind. Interfere at your peril, Holly. If she wants to be Queen Bee of the red-trouser brigade, then really it is the only place to be.’
Teddy plonked down a tray on their table, an overflowing basket of chips effectively ending their conversation for a moment as all hands dived in.
‘What’s in this Cola Cooler thingummy then?’ asked Taffy, sipping away and trying to discern what cocktail Teddy had been cooking up behind the bar. ‘I mean, it’s nice, but it’s hardly Italian, is it?’
‘Oh, that’s not one of mine,’ said Teddy, wiping the tray with a flourish. ‘That’s Dan’s secret recipe, that one.’
Immediately suspicious and knowing his friend only too well – especially with that casually relaxed smile on his face – Taffy put down the drink abruptly. It was the merest moment too late, as with each swirl and crack of the ice cubes it became apparent that Dan’s recipe did indeed have a secret ingredient: the foaming jet shot six feet up into the air, spewing cola bubbles everywhere in a violent volcanic reaction as the ‘special’ ice cubes thawed just enough to release the Mentos into the Coke.
Taffy sat frozen, absolutely drenched, cola frothing all down his face, his eyes wide in disbelief. He blinked and then the laughter began. ‘You utter bastard,’ he managed, swiping away the foam from his eyes and unable to stop laughing, partly as a nervous response to the complete shock of the ‘explosion’.
It took both of them a moment to realise that Taffy wasn’t the only one covered in froth. Holly scooped the brown foam from her hair and flicked it away, shaking the silk of her ‘posh frock’ until the foam rolled down to the ground. She looked at Dan and raised one eyebrow as he quailed in anticipation of a major bollocking.
‘You, Daniel Carter, are just very lucky my chips are still dry,’ said Holly, with feeling, reaching over to help herself to a handful from the basket.
Taffy laughed louder still at the discombobulated look on Dan’s face at Holly’s unexpected reaction. He threw an arm around his fiancée’s sodden shoulders with pride. ‘Told you she was a keeper.’
Despite the slight stickiness that now seemed to accompany her every move, Holly couldn’t remember having enjoyed an impromptu evening out more. Their table soon swelled with friends and neighbours dropping by for a chat and a drink. Of course, it was inevitable that another round of Cola Coolers had been ordered, just to demonstrate their tremendous power when extra Mentoed ice cubes were applied.
As Jason, their exuberantly bisexual, triathlete nurse, attempted his own version in his mouth, Holly had a feeling that they were having an awful lot more fun than any amount of silver-service fancification could provide and could only wish that Elsie were there to share it.
‘Oh, by the way,’ said Jason, his eyes still watering following his discovery that Diet Coke rather exacerbated the reaction, carrying a sting in its tail if taken orally, ‘you owe me a tenner, Dan. Mr and Mrs Greaves called it a day and their house is on the market.’
Dan frowned and pulled a ten-pound note from his wallet without hesitation. ‘Shame.’
Holly leaned forward. ‘And are we betting on the housing market or the divorce rate?’
Jason looked a bit shifty, his eyes flickering to Dan for moral support. ‘Well, you know all the arguments in the waiting room—’ He hesitated, clearly unsure how much he was supposed to be giving away.
Holly looked around the table, as Dan, Taffy and Jason all fell silent.
‘Are there lots of arguments in the waiting room then? Other than with idiots like Jarley?’ she asked, uncomfortably aware that she might just be missing something going on under her very nose.
Jason nodded. ‘More than I’m comfortable with anyway, but then it’s often couples who arrive together who start having a go. They’re the worst actually. Sometimes it’s just nerves, sometimes we get to predict the next divorce . . .’ He blushed, caught out in one of the games he and the nursing team liked to play. He certainly wasn’t letting on that there was a chart on their noticeboard running odds on likely candidates.
Taffy grinned. ‘I think we’re busted.’
‘You certainly are!’ exclaimed Holly. ‘How did I not know about this?’ she asked indignantly. ‘Can I put twenty quid down that the Lightlys will be finished by Christmas?’
Dan shook his head. ‘You can, but I’ve got thirty that says Halloween.’
It wasn’t exactly professional or discreet, but the four of them bantered happily about which cottages in Larkford might soon be on the market; death, divorce and bankruptcy still being the primary motivators for a sale in this desirable market town. Nobody, it seemed, ever willingly sold up once they’d got their foot on the Larkford property ladder; indeed most of the best houses were simply referred to as hand-me-downs around here.
Cassie Holland walked over with purpose, only to hover uncomfortably beside Holly, as though unwilling to interrupt their evening. ‘Holly?’ she said eventually. ‘Dr Graham? Might I have a word?’
Holly stood up, peeling her dress off the bench where the cola foam had somehow solidified to a paste. It was incentive enough not to give her children cola to drink ever again!
‘Hi, Cassie. Are you okay?’ Holly said, guiding her away from their noisy group to a quieter spot.
‘Well, it’s just, I’m booked in to see you in the morning, but I don’t think I can cope with another night!’ Cassie blurted out. ‘I’m in such pain. Can you give me something?’
Holly blinked hard; for Cassie Holland to knowingly request pharmaceuticals rather than obscure herbal remedies was almost unheard of.
‘And when I say I’m in pain,’ Cassie barrelled on, ‘paracetamol doesn’t touch it. It feels like it’s inside my bones, inside my muscles, gnawing away.’
‘Beaver pain,’ Holly suggested, the double entendre completely eluding her, until she saw the shocked expression on Cassie’s face.
‘Well,’ said Cassie, caught unawares, ‘I wouldn’t have put it quite like that, and you’re a little off geographically, but yes!’
‘If it’s that severe, Cassie, we really ought to get you over to the out-of-hours so they can do a full exam. I’m a little reluctant to prescribe something stronger until we know what we’re dealing with.’ All sorts of scenarios were running through her mind, but sudden-onset pain was normally a warning sign that shouldn’t be ignored.
‘And when did this start?’ Holly asked gently.
Cassie glanced down at her watch. ‘Ooh I’d say six, maybe seven weeks ago now.’
‘Weeks!’ exclaimed Holly, blindsided.
‘Well, yes,’ said Cassie, unfazed. ‘That’s when I started doing the Couch-to-5k.’
Holly took a deep breath, trying to convince her adrenalin to stand down; she’d been moments away from leaping in the car and driving Cassie into Bath herself. ‘And it’s your muscles and joints that hurt? Just your muscles and joints? Not in your abdomen or anywhere else?’
‘Isn’t that enough?’ said Cassie plaintively, seemingly disappointed by Holly’s change in demeanour and certainly not placated by the suggestion of some ibuprofen and a warm bath of Epsom salts.
Holly rejoined the group to find their conversation had taken a rather more obtuse turn.
‘Well,’ said Jason, casting his eye around the pub garden speculatively, ‘I guess I’d murder Cassie Holland, easy that one, mangle old man Jarley and—’
‘Did I miss something?’ Holly asked easily, sliding in beside Taffy, his arm automatically encircling her waist.
‘Murder, mangle, malaise,’ Taffy said, as though that explained everything.
‘Right,’ said Holly, mentally flicking through the patients she’d seen that week for likely candidates. It was probably just as well their table was a little removed from the bustle of the pub garden on this sultry evening. It was fair to say that weeks of unbroken sunshine hadn’t actually brought out the best in some of their patients.
She fanned herself with Teddy’s fancy cocktail menu and breathed out slowly, allowing the banter to flow around her and make her smile; calm, comfortable and content to be an observer on this round.
She frowned as the first tiny droplets of water landed on her forehead, looking up in confusion to the cloudless, twilit sky.
A cheer went up from the bar as Teddy called for everyone’s attention. ‘You’ll thank me for this!’ he cried, throwing out an arm to encompass the whole garden. ‘Bringing a little slice of Italy to Larkford!’
His waiting staff emerged from the kitchen in convoy, bearing huge platters of crisp, delicious pizzas piled high with rocket and basil.
The barman gave a drum roll on the counter top and Teddy ceremoniously turned on the tap to its full setting. It only took a moment for the tiny droplets to become a deluge, the holes punctured in the hosepipes forcing water out in multi-directional jets, blasting into people’s drinks, faces and hair. Hardly the gentle cooling mist he’d been aiming for.
Holly jumped as a spurt caught her shoulders, everyone around her leaping to their feet and the promotional pizzas already swimming. She paused and looked around her, as some ran for cover, others stomped angrily off into the Market Place, but her friends, her true soulmates, remained beside her, twirling in the impromptu fountains and shrieking with laughter.
Taffy caught her in his arms and spun her around. ‘At least it’s rinsed off all the Coke,’ he said with a grin, before weaving his hands through her hair and kissing her longingly.
‘I love kissing you in the rain,’ she whispered, her penchant for thunderstorm nookie well established in their relationship.
He raised one eyebrow. ‘Well, I do aim to please.’
‘Get a room, you two!’ catcalled Dan through the deluge.
‘The man does make a valid point,’ said Holly, curling her fingers through Taffy’s and giving him a gentle tug homewards. ‘We’ve got at least an hour before picking up Elsie.’
‘An hour?’ heckled Dan. ‘Hey, Taffs, it sounds like all that interval training’s really paying off.’