She wasn’t telling him what to do. He had a mind of his own, after all. She was just letting him know that she’d be happy for the two of them if it did happen.
‘You have fun in LA,’ said Shay. ‘And in New Zealand.’ He was loosening his grip on her now, preparing for them to go their separate ways.
Caz didn’t bother to tell him about this morning’s call from her agent, letting her know that the New Zealand film had fallen through. It no longer mattered anyway. She reached up, gave him one last fleeting goodbye kiss on the corner of his mouth and marvelled at her own skills, because he had no idea that she was making the most honourable sacrifice of her life.
As she turned and pushed the luggage trolley away, she murmured to herself, ‘Give me my Oscar now, please. God, I’m a brilliant actress.’
Chapter 47
It was Saturday afternoon on 7 December, and Didi was standing at the back of the hotel’s Bingham Suite watching as two people who weren’t her and Aaron said their marriage vows.
She was glad it wasn’t her, and so was Aaron. Earlier, on the morning of what should have been their wedding day, he’d sent her an email to make her aware of this. He’d met someone else, he informed her, and this time it was a girl who truly appreciated him, who actually wanted to spend time in his company. But the reason he was contacting her was to let her know he forgave her and wished her well for the future.
Finally, because this was Aaron after all, he’d attached a photograph with the caption Me and Amy on an afternoon walk. Which had made Didi smile, because it was a very Instagrammy photo, apparently casual but in fact carefully staged, with the two of them looking absolutely perfect whilst walking in orange-shaded woodland, laughing together as they threw handfuls of autumn leaves into the air.
Yes, like confetti. The tiny dig wasn’t lost on her. Well as long as they were happy, good luck to them.
Anyway, here she was, witnessing the wedding of Beth and Phil, two people who genuinely did love each other for better and for worse, and she hadn’t regretted booking them in here today for a single second. Some of the guests were struggling to contain their emotions as the celebrant spoke movingly about the events that had led to today’s ceremony. Beth’s mother was in the front row, frail in her wheelchair but clearly delighted to be there and dabbing at her eyes with a lace-trimmed handkerchief. Phil’s three daughters were bridesmaids, wearing matching red dresses and tiny flowered hairbands, and when the youngest one tripped over her own shoe and asked to be picked up, Beth lifted her easily into her arms and planted a kiss on her cheek, then continued to balance her on her hip whilst the celebrant carried on speaking.
As she watched the little girl’s fingers curl instinctively around Beth’s neck, Didi felt her own throat tighten and found herself having to picture politicians wrestling naked in mud, because she mustn’t wreck her make-up, not while she was on duty. It was her job to make sure every minute of this wedding went smoothly and the guests had a wonderful time. She took a surreptitious glance at her watch and saw that it was 3.30. Only another seven hours to get through before she could head to Benny and Rosa’s, keeping her fingers crossed that the party wouldn’t be over before she got there.
At Compton House, Slade’s ‘Merry Xmas Everybody’ was blaring out of the speakers, red and green helium balloons bobbed against the high ceiling and Rosa, her cheeks aching from laughing, was being whirled around the kitchen by Benny.
They might never win Strictly, but could the actual winners be any happier than she was right now? She doubted it. The last three months had brought changes to her life that she could never have imagined. Benny Colette made her heart sing and every day she loved him more. At first she’d felt guilty, worrying that people would think she’d forgotten Joe, but friends had hastened to reassure her that no one thought that. They were glad she’d found someone who made her happy. And as Layla had pointed out, if Joe had ever met Benny, the two of them would have got on together like a house on fire. They were both glass-half-full people, outgoing and good-natured. If Joe could have chosen a replacement for himself, he would have chosen Benny, no question about it.
The song on the radio ended, Benny and Rosa simultaneously yelled, ‘It’s Chrissstmaaaasss!’ and hugged each other, then Rosa picked up the wooden spoon and returned her attention to the pan of chilli simmering on the stove. The house was ready for this evening’s party. Pared-back Scandi chic had been replaced by the more-is-more approach: there were fairy lights galore, three fragrant Christmas trees and multicoloured decorations throughout the ground floor. All they had to do now was finish preparing the food. Benny had suggested getting caterers in, but she’d insisted home cooking was the key to a happy and relaxed atmosphere. Tiny fancy canapés were all very well, but giant dishes of pasta puttanesca, cottage pie, chicken makhani and Mexican chilli were better.
‘If you keep on trying the curry,’ Rosa told Benny as he took yet another clean spoon from the cutlery drawer, ‘there isn’t going to be any left by the time everyone gets here.’
He gave her bottom a playful pinch. ‘It’s your fault for being such a good cook.’
‘Only meee!’ The door banged shut behind Layla as she burst into the kitchen, pulling off her silver sequinned beret and stripy pink and green gloves. ‘Yeesh, it’s freezing out there! This smells good . . . Ooh, my favourite, can I try some?’ She greeted Benny with a kiss on the cheek.
‘If you’ve come to help, you can start peeling potatoes.’ Swatting Layla away from the pan of puttanesca sauce, Rosa said, ‘What time’s Will going to be able to get here?’
‘He’s working till eight, then coming straight over.’ Flinging her purple fake-fur coat over one of the high stools, Layla trawled a chunk of focaccia through the sauce, then tried it and swooned. ‘Heaven. Oh, and Esther called earlier to tell him she’s just sold Taxi Man to a Dutch publisher, so that’s seven translations now. Isn’t that amazing?’
‘Wonderful.’ Rosa meant it. Will’s secret had taken all of them by surprise, and they were still getting used to the idea that he’d written a book that was being talked about in the publishing world with such anticipation. Film rights had been snapped up for an impressive sum, but Will refused to consider giving up the job that had inspired the story in the first place. Instead, he was carrying on driving and was writing in his free time. It was still exciting, though. Having never been allowed to meet Harry, it was lovely to genuinely approve of her daughter’s latest boyfriend. Fingers crossed, this one might turn out to be a keeper.
‘Right, where’s the potato peeler?’ Having washed her hands, Layla was ready at last to get started. Her phone went ding and she pulled a face. ‘Oh no, it’s Will, don’t say he’s going to be late.’
‘What is it?’ said Rosa as Layla opened the text and frowned.
‘I don’t know! He says can I ask you if it’s OK for him to bring a guest along to the party tonight. But he’s not telling me who it is.’
Rosa said, ‘Well, we’ve got enough of a crowd coming that one more isn’t going to make any difference.’
‘Tell him it’s fine by us.’ Benny thought for a moment. ‘Just so long as it isn’t Ingrid.’