Penny had left; she would be back in the UK by now. Biddy had instructed Kit to drive her to Charles de Gaulle airport outside Paris. The young woman had been shaken and upset by the unexpected turn the day had taken. Escaping the wrath of Wyatt’s furious relatives had been her number one priority.
When Bill and Lainey had finally ventured into the crypt, they’d found Wyatt swigging from the bottle of vintage Bollinger. The soundtrack he’d recorded, of himself singing that his heart would go on, had still been playing. The dozens of tea lights were still flickering, the helium balloons still bobbing in the cool air.
‘Well that went well.’ He had wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Lucky I didn’t make a complete idiot of myself, eh?’
That had been six hours ago. They’d taken him back to his family and tried to reassure him that it really wasn’t the end of the world. Lainey had assumed that from that point on, he would be consoled and taken care of by his parents and brothers, but it was definitely Wyatt she could see down there, weaving his way across the lawn. And he was on his own, heading for the trees.
It was a moonlit night, otherwise she might not have been able to identify him. She watched as he paused, swaying visibly, and gazed up at one of the largest trees. What was he doing? Searching for squirrels? Or seeking out a branch sturdy enough to take his weight should he decide to—
No, don’t even think it; of course he wouldn’t do something so drastic.
But once the possibility had occurred to her, how could she ignore it? Pulling on a pair of shorts and her pink denim jacket to cover her thin night-time T-shirt, Lainey hurried down the many flights of stone steps and let herself out through the side door.
Wyatt was sitting on the grass by the time she reached him. He wasn’t looking his best.
‘Hi.’ She touched his shoulder. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Never better. Really, best day of my life.’ He shook his head, pulled a balled-up handkerchief from his trouser pocket and roughly wiped the pouches beneath his eyes. ‘I’m not crying, OK? It’s hay fever. Oh man, what a nightmare.’
It wasn’t hay fever. Lainey lowered herself to the ground next to him. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s a rotten thing to happen.’
‘You know what, though? I’m a nice guy. A really nice guy. And loaded, too. I mean, I’d have given that girl everything she wanted. She’d have had a great life with me. Why would she turn down an offer like that?’
‘I don’t know, but isn’t it a good thing she did?’
‘And you expect me to say yes to that?’ Wyatt stared at her. ‘Are you out of your mind?’
‘I mean, in the long term. Because you’re right,’ Lainey told him. ‘You are a catch. Lots of girls would be only too delighted to go ahead and marry you, because they’d know they could bail out six months later and walk away with more money than they could ever earn. And Penny could have done that too, but she didn’t. She did the decent thing. So at least you know she wasn’t a gold-digger.’
Belatedly it occurred to her that this just made it worse.
‘I already knew she wasn’t like that,’ Wyatt retorted. ‘It was why I wanted to marry her in the first place.’ He threw down the handkerchief and raked both hands through his hair, rocking back and forth with frustration. ‘And now I’ve been publicly dumped. I’m going to be a complete laughing stock. Just wait till everyone at work gets to hear about this.’
‘But they don’t have to know! You can ask your family not to say anything. They’re on your side,’ Lainey reminded him. ‘They love you. If they don’t breathe a word, how’s anyone else going to find out? You can just tell your friends at work that things didn’t work out between you and Penny, and the two of you broke up.’
‘How’s anyone else going to find out?’ Wyatt gave a snort of disbelief. ‘Are you kidding me? I have three brothers who can’t wait to tell the world what a total loser I am.’ He rose clumsily to his feet. ‘And they’d be right.’
‘You aren’t a loser.’
‘I am, I’m a joke.’ He was squeezing his eyes shut now, shaking his head. ‘I’ve never had any luck with girls. All I’ve ever wanted to do is fit in, find someone my mom would like, then get engaged and settle down.’
‘But loads of us are like that. I never have any luck with boys,’ Lainey exclaimed. ‘Honestly, I’m a walking disaster, always have been. Every single time, I fall for someone I think is amazing and then he turns out to be just as rubbish as the rest of them.’ She didn’t tell him about gorgeous Anton, who was on course to reverse the pattern and bring her some much-needed happiness at long last. Poor Wyatt, there was no need to rub his nose in it.
‘You’re a good person. You’re trying to make me feel better.’ He eyed her blearily. ‘And guess what? It isn’t working. But it’s nice of you to try.’
‘You should get to bed,’ Lainey said gently, and to her relief he nodded.
‘I guess I should.’
Whoops! He wasn’t too steady on his feet. Lainey grabbed the crumpled handkerchief he’d left on the grass and stuffed it into her jacket pocket, then held out both hands to keep him vaguely vertical.
‘I just wanted to get married.’ He mumbled the words brokenly. ‘Is that too much to ask?’
Poor Wyatt, what a terrible day he’d had. Still supporting his swaying body, Lainey said, ‘It’ll happen one day. You’ll get over this, I promise.’
A thousand kilometres away, in St Carys, Majella put down her pen and finished her glass of Rioja. There it was then. For better or worse, she’d done the rewrite.
This evening’s first attempt, on her laptop, had been a disaster. Then, remembering Seth’s advice, she’d found herself a felt-tip pen and writing pad and curled up on the violet sofa in the living room. Casting aside the stiff, official advertising language used by the agency, she had written as if she were chatting away to the kind of people she would love to employ.
The ad now said:
Hello! Amazing couple required – could it be you?
We live in a gorgeous beachfront home in north Cornwall. We’re a happy but untidy family who need taking in hand. Are you organised, energetic and delightful to have around? Would you like to restore order from chaos and look after us?
Must love cats, dogs, teenagers and the occasional tricky geriatric. You’ll have your own flat, use of a half-decent car and flexible hours.
So what do you think? Would you be our Mary Poppins . . . and Bert? Come on, give us a go. It’ll be hard work, but lots of fun too, we promise!
Having read through it again, Majella took a photo of what she’d written and emailed it to Seth.
He replied a minute later: So much better. Well done. X
Succinct and to the point, as always.
Majella sent a second message: Should I mention Richard, do you think?
This time the reply was almost instantaneous: God, definitely not.
The next morning, a drastically hung-over Wyatt and the rest of his family departed for the airport in a small fleet of limousines.
‘I feel so sorry for him,’ Lainey told Kit as they washed up after breakfast.