Leonora was still annoyed with herself for going to pieces and hibernating in her room like a smelly hermit that only came out to drag itself to work, or to nibble at food slumped at the kitchen table in her pyjamas. She was tutted at by Saint Sylvia and mollycoddled (as the holy one put it) by her worried and angry mother. Three months of wallowing later, two stone lighter and looking like a bag of bony rags in her whites, the sallow witch with grown-out roots was called upon to do a favour.
Her eldest sister, Rosina, who managed the garden centre, had come down with a bug. The young man who was doing the audit would be arriving early and someone needed to let him into the office so he could crack on. Cue Leonora.
Not only was she taken aback by the good-looking guy who didn’t mind a bit that she was ten minutes late when she shuffled to the office door, Leonora was surprised that she noticed him. She was also rather chuffed he was flirting and felt ridiculously glad she’d worn her bobble hat. The next morning she applied a bit of make-up – nothing that the hawk-eyed Saint Sylvia would notice – and was ready and waiting for Caspar, as she now knew him to be, when he arrived to get on with the audit.
One appointment at the hairdressers later Leonora was ready and willing to be wooed and maybe, just maybe, Joel would panic and come home.
Leonora miscalculated, badly. And had she not been such a desperate, game-playing saddo who was on the rebound and determined to punish Joel for his stupidity, she wouldn’t have given Caspar the time of day and ended up trapped in a relationship with an utter control freak. Or a complete bore. Her total opposite in every way. A vain, self-obsessed social climber. A man intent on doing the least possible for the greatest gain.
She could see Joel’s car outside his brother’s house and for the umpteenth time asked,What have I done?Why couldn’t nice Leonora have given Joel a bit longer and, in the meantime, focused on her career and followed her own route. Catering college, then some real-life experience in a restaurant before opening her own bistro in the grounds of the garden centre. It was all set aside for her. Funds to renovate and refit the old mill where she could make her mark on the Cheshire dining scene. But no. Instead she’d had a paddy and lost the most lovely guy with a heart of gold who might have eventually come back to work at the family firm, once he’d had a chance to live his dream, which he deserved. And everything would have been perfect.
And to add insult to injury, Saint Sodding Sylvia had been right all along because she never liked Caspar from the off and wasn’t shy about saying so. ‘He’s a shifty get, and smarmy with it. And his suits are shiny, like a lounge lizard. Never trust a man in a shiny suit. Or who drives one of them cars that the roof comes down. Poncy poser. You want to watch him, my girl.’ Sylvia pursed her lips as she eyed Leonora across the kitchen table.
Her mum had her back to them, stirring a pan at the Aga, saying nothing but tutting loudly. Leonora imagined she was rolling her eyes as she added more salt to the vegetables.
Leonora picked up the bread and the carving knife with the other, pointing it as she spoke. ‘Gran, you’ve only met him once so how can you tell? And what are you going on about, shiny suits? And I have no idea what a bloody lounge lizard is and loads of men drive convertibles. Seriously, you can take generalisation to the next level.’
‘And he talks funny, in a know-all voice, like he’s cleverer than us.’ Sylvia turned the page of her newspaper, keeping her eyes on the print.
‘No he doesn’t!’
A Sylvia shrug meant her gran thought she was right, as usual. ‘Suppose there’s no accounting for tastes.’
Determined to make her point Leonora continued to bat for Caspar’s team. ‘And anyway, he was only here for half an hour and you can’t make an assessment based on clothes and cars, and voices for Chri– crying out loud.’ Leonora knew better than to take the Lord’s name in vain. ‘I thought he was very polite even when you started interrogating him. You shouldn’t ask people who they vote for or where their parents are from. It’s sod-all to do with you.’ Leonora began chopping the bread into cubes to make croutons and was glad that Caspar had declined the invitation to stay and eat with them.
Her toes were actually curling throughout the visit especially when the holy one had asked if he was financially stable and had he been christened. Seriously embarrassing.
‘Well, I’m only looking out for you, Leo.’ Her gran shortened all her granddaughters’ names because she didn’t like them, or opera, or the female characters they and their mother were named after.
‘The last thing we want is you getting dumped by another feller. Once is enough. I know that better than anyone.’ Granny Sylvia flipped another page of theSunday Expressand raised an eyebrow.
Leonora wouldn’t back down, determined to make a point. ‘And thanks so much for telling him all about Joel and how devastated I was when he left to follow his dreams becausethat’swhat really happened. He did NOT dump me, remember! And was there any need for the bit about me sounding like a wailing banshee and not having a wash for twelve weeks? Jesus, Gran. Could you have made me sound any more sad and gross?’
Her hand coming down hard on the newspaper told Leonora that her gran was cross. ‘Leo! Do not say “Jesus” in that tone of voice.’
Leonora winced. ‘Sorry Gran.’
Mollified, her gran continued. ‘And I’ll have you know that I am very well informed about how that man has been sniffing round and asking our Rosie all about you. You shouldn’t forget that he has access to facts and figures so he knows he’s onto a good thing with a young girl like you. Like a rat up a drainpipe he is.’
‘Gran! That’s gross’
‘And he’s too old for you, like your dad was when he met your mum and did she listen to me? Course she didn’t and look what happened there! Men, they are the road to ruination, mark my words.’
It was at this point Leonora saw her mum swing around, waving the wooden spoon as she spoke. ‘Leonora, just ignore your gran; and Mother, give it a rest, will you. If you’ve got nothing better to do than criticise, come and stir the soup. You and this spoon are made for each other.’
It was impossible not to notice the glare aimed at her gran, who finally shut up and got on with reading her paper while Leonora received a conspiratorial wink from her mum. It was common family knowledge that their self-appointed head of the clan hated all men in general. In fact, unless you were white, straight and a Christian, Sylvia operated a zero-tolerance policy with regards to the entire human race.
The funny thing was, despite her sometimes cutting ways, she was often on the money. Definitely where Caspar was concerned and even though Joel had broken Leonora’s heart, and according to her gran, dumped her, she never really had a bad word to say about him. Before or after. And at Appleton Farm, that was as close to a miracle as you’d get. Ever!
Manchester. Present day.
Leonora was grasping at celestial straws because even if her gran had given Joel a second chance, she certainly wouldn’t condone cheating on her fiancé no matter how shifty he was. Maybe if she’d confided in her gran that she was right about Caspar, she’d have forgiven her. That he was insanely jealous of Joel, and a nasty drunk who had once or twice made her feel unsafe. Plus the twisted belittling comments that came naturally to someone who was a controlling bully. Leonora imagined her gran giving him a taste of his own medicine. In fact, she was sure she’d have stood by her and Caspar would have come off worse.
Seeing Joel at the door she wiped the rain from her face and thoughts of Caspar from her mind because for the next few hours she would pretend he didn’t exist. They both would. As she almost leapt into his arms and made his jumper as soggy as her, she reminded herself,Not long now. All you have to do is get past Christmas, not ruin anything for Mum and then you’ll be free.
3
Geordie
