Page 50 of Hit For Six
‘This is too much.’ Lola shook her head. ‘Look, I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I just need time to process things.’
She let go of his hand and Monty suddenly wished he’d made his past flops of romances last longer. He might have learnt a thing or two. He was coming on too strong. No matter what Lola had said to him in bed this morning, thiswastoo much. He could see it now that he stopped to consider things from her point of view. And there was Gail’s pride to consider. He was less enamoured with Greg right now. But this still didn’t change the fact that it was heartbreaking watching others go through hell when you could take all of that stress and worry away. That felt like too much in its own right.
‘I think we should go our separate ways,’ Lola announced. ‘Just for tonight and the next few days,’ she added quickly. ‘I’ve got to go away for work and you’ve got to get yourself back into shape, Mr.’ Lola prodded playfully at Monty’s stomach and he managed a small smile. ‘This has been a brilliant weekend.’ She took Monty’s hands in hers again and gazed into his eyes. ‘But an intense one. In that respect it does feel as if we’re in a Shakespeare play. I need to think. Not about us, but about this… extraordinary kindness.’ She gave him a little laugh. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, I will never turn down flowers or chocolates or meals at The Iris– although maybe we’ll avoid that particular venue for a bit– but I need to be in control of my own finances. I’ve seen too many women give up their security, only to get trapped. I can’t let that happen. The threat feels even greater being an only child. I need my independence. In the natural order of things, one day my parents won’t be here and I won’t have any siblings to rally around me if my life goes belly up. I have to be able to make it on my own.’
‘I understand.’
‘You do and you don’t.’
‘How so?’
It was Monty’s turn to look puzzled and taken aback. But he could never be disappointed when it came to Lola.
‘You’re not a woman, Monty.’ She sighed. ‘You don’t have the weight of the past, present and future sisterhoods on your shoulders.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Lola
Doubt was abitch. But it had seeped into Lola’s consciousness since the weekend and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Only time would tell if she and Monty had a genuine future. Patience was the name of the game.
It was crazy to think that they’d only been together as a couple since the weekend. They’d gone through so much that it felt as if they’d been in one another’s lives for months.
Yes, Lola was sure that Monty had been charmed by the basic meal that her mum had laid on, but it was one thing theorising about these things, the practise made them feel stark. What if the novelty wore off? She hadn’t visited his parents’ home and she guessed that would happen at some point down the line (before it did, she really needed to investigate whether Swiss Finishing schools offered learn from home-style crash courses in etiquette) but Monty’s own place was already in a league of its own.
Work had come between them as the new week dawned. Lola had managed to get away without an overnight stay in London for yet another trade fair, but she’d been roped into providing back up for Harry, who couldn’t manage all of his UK account appointments alone and had no Julian to rely on. Which meant two days of hopping on the train from Bath to London, then a taxi to the exhibition centre.
‘Good morning, Lola!’ Harry greeted her on day one as she raced down the red carpet to reach their stand at Earl’s Court. ‘I’ve grabbed us a couple of coffees and some bolsteringbrownies, thinking your ETA would be around about now. Great timing.’
Harry seemed ridiculously perky for the hour and Lola gratefully received the caffeine and cake top up, despite the fact she’d already hit Great Western’s food and drink trolley for a powdery hot chocolate and a bone-dry flapjack.
‘So, which meetings do you need me to take?’ she asked. ‘Shall we run through the schedule before the crowds descend?’
‘Let’s!’ Harry opened his lever arch file, flipping through the timetables and meeting notes as Lola nibbled on another style-over-substance cake. ‘Here we go: I’ve swapped a few around.’ Harry pointed to some scribbles. Lola could just about make out that her first meeting was at ten. ‘Case of having to with yesterday’s walk on traffic.’ He shook his head. ‘Rosie helped out for as long as she could but then she needed to get back to Birmingham for her kids. A few people left their contact details intending to return today at some point… including this intriguing lady.’
Harry held out a gold embossed business card with the name Joanna Bennoy-Bell stamped across it. Apparently, she was the head buyer for a company called Showdown.
‘She was rather delightful but no sooner had we got talking than Bruce from Arty Farty Party showed up. We’d arranged our meeting weeks ago and I couldn’t keep him waiting. Joanna said she’d be back today, so keep an eye out for her. She was a tall, skinny thing wearing a designer caramel trouser suit that seemed to have been stamped all over with the Chanel logo. And her hair was long and what can only be described as a bush. She had it swept back in one of those old-fashioned Alice bands, but this one was embellished with feathers. Like she was off to the races. Oh, look, there’s Tanya from Badass Bashes– she’s my nine o’clock– we’ll catch up later, Lola. Good luck!’
As was always the way at a trade fair, you had to sneak the calories in while you could so Lola turned her back to Harry’s approaching customer and tried to discreetly wolf down her second breakfast, knowing lunch would be a pipedream. And as was all too often the way when you were doing this, somebody would sashay onto the stand to ask you something, just when you had a mouth crammed full of food.
‘Helloooo!’ a plummy female voice flew over Lola’s shoulder. ‘I hope this isn’t an inconvenient moment.
‘Motmamaw,’ Lola replied uncouthly, immediately able to deduce that the person in question didn’t care if it was untimely at all.
She covered her hand with her mouth as she slowly pivoted, cheeks like a hamster. Woah, the woman in front of her had to be the same one that Harry was on about. Today she was a clashing vision of burgundy and yellow, dressed in a cropped jacket-style pinstripe suit with a top-knotted velvet headband sitting on her crown and a huge flower choker at her throat.
‘I won’t take up too much of your time,’ she announced assertively, proffering Lola a brilliant smile as she raced to swallow her food. Followed by a thorough onceover. Lola hoped not, she could feel the onslaught of a migraine. ‘I didn’t get a chance to speak with your boss yesterday and I’d like to place a significant order for one of your ranges.’
They all said this. Usually it was significant to themselves– and themselves only– and they expected a bargain basement price in return, having not an inkling of the print cost per unit.
‘Lovely, well, shall we take a seat and you can tell me which collections you’re interested in? I’ll need to double check print and shipping costs so I can finalise everything with you via email and send an official quote.’
‘Oh, there’s really no need.’ Joanna’s feet rooted themselves to the spot. ‘It’s yourDeepest Sympathycards I’m interested in.’Why did she say it like that? A bit strange. ‘Rather a lot of them. Death. It’s always lurking, just around the corner, isn’t it? Of course, if we live a good life and know our rightful place within it, chances are we’ll go on to live a long and healthy one with no nasty surprises.’
‘Okay.’ Lola let out a nervous laugh. ‘C-can you give me an idea of numbers?’
‘One-hundred thousand per design.’
