Page 60 of Happily Never After
As I pull up outside the house, I spot an unfamiliar car in the driveway. My first, brief, thought is that maybe Finn has hotfooted it back for the rest of the retreat, before I realise that he’d need to be a time traveller to have got here that quickly. The mystery only deepens when I walk out onto the terrace to be confronted by an apoplectic-looking Gina.
‘Thereyou are!’ she exclaims furiously. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘Good afternoon to you too, Gina,’ I say mildly. ‘Is something the matter?’
‘Of course something’s the matter,’ she fumes. ‘Do I have to remind you that this is supposed to be a writers’ retreat, not a holiday park for all and sundry? It was bad enough with Finn and his silly TV show, but this is beyond the pale.’
So much for Lynette keeping that a secret as well, then. Still, at least Finn managed to escape the flak. I can’t for the life of me work out what it is I’m supposed to have done to upset her now, though.
‘Sorry, Gina,’ I say, trying to keep my voice level in the hope that it might calm her down a little. ‘I’m not following you.’
‘Oh, don’t play the innocent with me,’ she scoffs. ‘It’s obvious that you’re behind this. What’s the matter with you? Can’t you focus unless you have someone fawning at your feet, hm?’
The irony of that statement is evidently lost on her, but I’m still no closer to uncovering what’s going on, so I try again.
‘Gina,’ I say firmly. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Him,’ she practically yells as another person joins us and my jaw drops. I’m momentarily incapable of speech. This can’t be happening, and I try blinking to see if maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me, but nope. The newcomer smiles warmly as he approaches.
‘Hello, Laura. Surprised?’
‘Angus,’ I hiss. ‘What the bloody hell are you doing here?’
‘See?’ Gina interjects. ‘I knew you were behind this. Well, I’m going to be having a word with Hugh and Cara, you mark my words. You’ve caused nothing but trouble since you’ve arrived, and this is too much.’
She’s right. The combination of Angus being here and her having yet another go at me is too much, and my temper deserts me.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Gina! Just fuck off, would you?’ I yell, making her start. If I wasn’t so completely livid, it would actually be funny. Her mouth is working furiously, but no sounds are coming out.
‘In all my life, I have never…’ she eventually manages, before turning on her heel and fleeing.
‘She seems an absolute charmer,’ Angus observes drily. ‘You might want to work on your interpersonal skills a bit though. I’m not sure “just fuck off, would you” is in the top ten phrases of how to win friends and influence people.’
‘Shut up,’ I tell him furiously. ‘What are you doing here? How did you even find out where I was?’
He says nothing, but simply smiles enigmatically. Dear Lord, I’ve never wanted to punch someone so much.
‘Well?’ I demand after a few moments, when it’s become clear he’s not going to say anything.
‘I can’t shut upandtell you how I found you,’ he says. ‘You have to choose one.’
‘Now is really,reallynot the time to be a smart arse. Tell me why you’re here and how you found me. Did Liv tell you? I’ll bloody kill her if she did.’
‘No. I tried to get it out of her, but she wasn’t giving anything away. I know she’s your best friend and everything, but she’s a bit of a Rottweiler sometimes, isn’t she? Anyway, finding you was the easy part,’ he says as if discussing nothing more important than the weather. ‘Do you know how many writing retreats for English people are running in France at the moment? One. So it didn’t need Sherlock Holmes to work out where you might be. As to why I’m here, I’d have thought that would be similarly obvious. I’ve come to win you back.’
‘You’vewhat?’
‘Look, I know it was me that left and, at the time, I really thought it was the right thing. We seemed to be stuck in a rut and I wasn’t happy in my job. But the truth is that barely a day went by on that ship when I didn’t miss you, Laura.’ He grins. ‘Well, mainly Meg, of course, but also you.’
I stare at him, trying to take in what he’s saying. His joke about loving the dog more than me was a common one in the old days, but it’s just adding to my sense of disbelief now.
‘As soon as the cruise was over, I came straight back to Margate to try to put things right,’ he continues. ‘I bought flowers and everything. That was awkward, I can tell you. I’m not sure who was more surprised when I knocked on the door of our flat – me or the woman who answered. It never occurred to me that you would have moved out.’
‘What did you expect me to do?’ I ask incredulously. ‘Did you honestly think that I’d just gone into some form of suspended animation while you were away, like the fucking mice inBagpuss?’
He stares at me blankly. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘It’s a children’s story. Bagpuss is a stuffed cloth cat who lives in a shop, and the mice are part of a mouse organ. They come to life when Bagpuss does and go to sleep when he does. There’s also a rag doll called Madeleine and a woodpecker called Professor Yaffle – what now?’
