‘What do you… aghhhh.’
Before she had time to duck out of the way, Theo had spun round with the hose from the complicated swan-necked tap in his hand, aiming the nozzle in her direction.
‘Hey!’ she cried as a sprinkle of water landed on her cheek. She grabbed a tea towel and held it over her face as Theo moved towards her, the hose raised, while she retreated, holding her tea towel like a matador backing away from a particularly frisky bull.
‘Stop it!’
‘Are you having enough fun?’
‘I’m getting wet, if that’s what you call fun!’
‘But you’re laughing too!’
‘It’s a nervous reaction!’
Another cascade of spray landed on her naked forearm and she flapped the towel at him only to receive a torrent of droplets as she turned on her heels and ran round to the other side of the island.
‘Stop… Oh my God, what now!’
The room had plunged into darkness.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Oh, don’t worry this happens all the time. I think the electrics need looking at, the lights fuse regularly, but the rest of the electrical appliances are okay. Hang on.’
Lexie expected Theo to disappear in search of the fuse box but instead he scrabbled about in one of the kitchen drawers, found a box of matches and lit a collection of white cathedral candles in a huge silver bowl, filling the kitchen with a warm, golden glow.
‘Coffee?’
‘Please.’
She smiled to herself as an image of Pippa floated across her mind; she knew exactly what her friend would say when she told her their evening had ended in a candlelit nightcap. Aw, how romantic! followed by the inevitable question So, did you kiss him? Pippa had this theory - expounded at regular intervals and mainly after yet another dud date – that the goodnight kiss held all the answers, and unless she experienced the essential, yet elusive, coup de foudre there was no point in agreeing to a second date. Lexie had laughed, arguing that some relationships fell into the ‘slow-burn’ category, like hers with Elliot, but there had been no swaying Pippa who was still waiting for that thunderbolt of lightning to blast through her heart.
Lexie grimaced. Could Pippa have been right?
‘Milk?’
‘Oh… yes, please.’
She pushed Pippa Marlowe’s Lessons in Lasting Love thesis from her mind and accepted the mug of coffee Theo handed her, the delicious, rich aroma of ground Columbian beans wafting into her nostrils – it really was one of her favourite fragrances. She took a tentative sip and closed her eyes.
‘Thank you.’
Theo slid onto the bar stool next to Lexie, his elbows resting on the countertop as he hugged his own coffee cup with his palms, searching for her eyes.
‘Are you going to tell me what happened to stop you from smiling? Don’t freak out, but I asked Freya and she told me I had to ask you about it. I’d really like to know, Lexie.’
‘Oh, I…’
‘Please, Lexie. Maybe I can help?’
‘You already know about the disaster at the catwalk show…’
‘But something else happened, didn’t it? There was something else in your eyes when we were chatting about the ice bucket incident yesterday. Something that hurt you much more than being fired.’
Lexie felt her throat constrict as she replayed the image of Elliot leaning across the restaurant table to kiss his fellow diner. Did she really want to spill the whole sorry saga to Theo? Freya’s voice came into her head loud and clear, telling her she had to start to come to terms with what had happened and in order to do that she had to talk about it, had to open that box she had sealed the night of the fashion show and let the pain out into the open air where it could grow wings and maybe, hopefully, fly away.
‘I…’
She couldn’t do it, saying the words was so hard. It was still so much easier to convince herself that painful things had never happened, or that they had happened to someone else. Theo was staring at her, his eyes filled with kindness and sympathy, but also expectation and she didn’t have the courage to rip off the band-aid.
‘I don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t mind.’
‘Sure, not a problem. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘It’s fine.’ She forced a smile on her lips and changed the subject. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking…’
‘What about?’
‘About the crazy pranks Jasmine has been playing with Zara’s wedding shoes, and with the whoopee cushions the day before. I’m almost certain that the googly eyes thing was her idea too, and…’
‘And what?’
‘I think it was Jasmine who sprayed Rachel’s dress with tomato sauce.’
‘I can see how you would think that. So what are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to go over to the manor half an hour early tomorrow and catch Dan before he starts getting ready for the wedding, tell him what’s happened, and ask him to have a firm word with Jasmine before she causes any more mayhem. The whoopee cushions and the googly eyes are funny, but damaging an expensive bridesmaid’s dress and painting a pair of Jimmy Choo’s with nail varnish – which, I can report, has actually stained the soles so you can still see the word Love – is a whole different ball game.’
‘Want me to come with you? It was just this morning when you thought that Dan himself might be the culprit, remember? You thought he’d done it as some kind of warning to Rachel to keep her mouth shut.’
‘So having a quiet word with him about Jasmine’s antics might have a dual purpose. If it was him, then he’ll know we’re on to him and he won’t try to do anything else!’
‘I agree. What time were you thinking of getting there?’
‘Six thirty? I’m meeting Zara, Rachel and Audrey at seven. The hairdresser’s due at seven thirty.’
‘Count me in! Erm, not for the hairdresser, obviously!’
When Lexie finished her coffee, Theo offered to drive her home and as soon as her head finally hit her pillow, she could barely keep her eyes open. There was so much information spiralling around her head she thought she’d never get to sleep. Yet, instead of anxiety and trepidation over the mounting pressure to make sure everything went according to Marley’s carefully crafted plan the next day, she knew that as long as Theo was by her side she would be okay, that she would cope with whatever was thrown at her, and that was the last thought to wind its way through her exhausted brain before she tumbled into the oblivion that sleep granted.
Chapter Seventeen
The day of Zara and Jason’s wedding dawned with a clear blue sky and a sharp nip in the air. The birds had only just launched into their daily overture when Lexie’s alarm clock informed her that it was time to get out of bed and into the shower. She dragged on her dressing gown and peered out of the window, taking in the village scene minus the hustle and bustle of residents and tourists.
Pengarth was one of those places that pulled on the heartstrings of anyone who loved Cornwall, with its cute little duck pond, its quirky artisan shops, and its popular pub that buzzed with customers. If one hundred people were given an artist’s pad and a packet of coloured pencils and were told to draw a typical English village scene, then ten to one, Lexie knew it would look like Pengarth.