Hand On Heart: Sequel to Head Over Heels Page 5

  ‘And this is Eloise.’ Hugo introduced a willowy brunette, his new, second wife, whom Alex had never met before. Alex had always adored Lizzie, Hugo’s first wife, and still kept in touch with her, but she tried to put her loyalty to Lizzie to the back of her mind, knowing that she had to make an effort with Hugo’s new partner, just as he would have to with hers. It was odd for both of them, introducing their new spouses at the same time. Alex’s first impressions were that Eloise was clearly quite a few years younger than Hugo, but she seemed absolutely charming. She hoped Hugo took to Mark, too; whilst it didn’t matter if they didn’t go on to become best buddies, she wanted Hugo to at least like and accept Mark. She was certain he would, but was surprised at just how much it mattered to her to have Hugo’s approval of her new husband.

  Hugo and Peter had been the best of friends during their school days, although the men had fallen out of touch with each other for a while in their early twenties. Alex knew she had Hugo to thank for a lot of factors which influenced her lifestyle as it was now. Hugo had been the one to unearth some rare, vintage wine in their cellar, the sale of which had enabled her and Peter to bring their house up to the standard required for a family home. But more crucially he had been the one to sow in Peter’s head the idea of becoming a travel writer. Alex thought it would probably never have occurred to either her or Peter that he could make money from writing about something he had loved doing so much, but when he turned his hand to it – and then proved he had some significant talent, securing a publishing deal almost instantly – then that had been the making of him. Of both of them, really.

  For the last few years Alex had lived off the royalties from Peter’s books, some of which were still selling well, even nine years after his death. He had been a highly successful author during his lifetime, but his premature death had catapulted all of his books into the charts at once, so even if the bottom fell out of the travel guide market tomorrow, Alex knew she was pretty much set up for life, and that her children’s futures were secure, too. Peter had bequeathed, to her and the children, a lasting legacy. She wished he were still on this earth – which was something she had to keep to herself, as she was lucky to have found love again with Mark – but Peter lived on, not only through his family, but through his books, too.

  ‘I can’t believe we haven’t seen you for so long,’ Hugo went on. ‘How are those gorgeous children of yours? And little Bertie, well, I suppose he’s not so little anymore, is he? Thank heavens for Facebook – at least I get to see pictures of them all now and again. Next month I’ll be up this way for a little longer. Maybe we could come over and catch up with them all?’

  Mark, ever the proud father, couldn’t pass up on an opportunity to whip out his phone and scroll straight to his latest photos of Bertie, which he showed to Hugo with a beaming smile.

  ‘Aww, he’s gorgeous. He looks a cheeky little chappy. Bet you’ve got your hands full there. Shall we get some drinks in? I think a reunion like this calls for champagne, don’t you?’

  The sommelier appeared at just the right moment; Alex and Mark were perfectly happy to allow the wine expert in their midst to choose for them, half expecting their friend to engage in a deep and meaningful discussion about the wine list with the waiter. But he didn’t. Casting an expert eye over it, he ordered quickly and returned to the conversation.

  ‘So, what brings you up this way then, Hugo?’ Mark asked. He hadn’t really been looking forward to this evening; he wondered how it would feel to be Peter’s stand-in, under the scrutiny of this close friend of Alex’s first husband. In a way it was fortunate that Hugo found himself in a similar predicament, with a new partner to introduce as well. Alex looked across at him and smiled, and he relaxed, determined that he would enjoy this rare night out with his wife, even if it was a little tricky to start with.

  To say Alex and Mark didn’t get out much was something of an understatement. It wasn’t for lack of babysitting offers, or money, or time, or any of those factors, but just that the six of them were as happy as anything in their own company, at home. Alex’s idea of a perfect Saturday night was a simple supper, something she could chuck into the AGA mid-afternoon and forget about, followed by the trashy early-evening offerings on the TV, which the kids all loved. Then they would pack the children off to bed whilst the two of them snuggled together on the sofa to finish off a bottle of wine – or even start on a second one. These days it wasn’t so much a case of sending Archie to bed, but he would at least retire to his room to ‘chat’ with his friends on one of his gadgets, or play computer games. He seemed to have a sixth sense about his mother and stepfather wanting to spend some time together alone, and was past the age of feeling pushed out, in fact he welcomed the excuse to escape adult company. He was fourteen, after all, and there was a limit to how much time he thought he should spend within the parental fold.

  Although he and Mark might not always see eye to eye, on the whole Archie had been very accommodating when Mark had moved in. Alex realised how hard it must be for him to see someone else where rightfully his father should be, the eternal dilemma of the step family. Given all the hormones racing around his body at the moment, she could forgive his little spats. She adored her eldest, and not just because he was the living embodiment of his father.

  ‘Well, actually, I’m pursuing a business opportunity,’ Hugo replied. ‘I know you guys might not mark the Midlands out as the greatest wine-growing area in the world – yet, anyway – but you’d be surprised just how many little vineyards are springing up all over. I’m off to talk to someone near Stratford-upon-Avon tomorrow. We’re thinking of investing in them, helping them build their profile, you know. Damn those French who ridicule our wine, because I can tell you, some of it is actually very good.’ Hugo went off into a long spiel about the virtues of English wines, and Alex was thrilled to see how absorbed Mark was. She had been quite nervous about this evening, she realised, but at the moment things couldn’t be going better.

  Whilst the men were chatting animatedly, she turned to talk to Eloise, who had hardly said a word so far – although being married to the effervescent Hugo probably had something to do with that. Lovely as he was, getting a word in edgeways wasn’t always easy. Alex thought Eloise seemed very pleasant, but she was no doubt quite anxious about the evening as well.

  ‘Hugo tells me you’re a photographer,’ Alex began. Eloise tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. For someone so naturally attractive, she seemed to be lacking in confidence, Alex thought. A lifetime spent hiding behind the lens, when she was gorgeous enough to have been in front of it.

  ‘Yes, but it’s not that exciting, really,’ Eloise replied modestly. ‘I do a lot of work with grapes and bottles,’ she added giggling. ‘That was how I met Hugo. I do shoots for these wine magazines, you know, Berry Bros., Laithwaites, all that kind of thing, and he contributes articles to them a lot as well, so basically, yeah, there I was, leaning over a vine for a good shot, when he appeared out of nowhere and whisked me off my feet, quite literally.’

  ‘Oh, that’s so romantic!’ Alex liked this woman. She had no reason not to; Hugo’s divorce from Lizzie had been on the grounds of ‘irreconcilable differences’, a mutual decision, not because Hugo had fallen for this new love and she had enticed him away. He hadn’t actually met Eloise until over a year after his divorce was finalised. Thereafter the relationship had progressed pretty quickly, but it was all post-Lizzie, all above board. Alex knew Lizzie was settled with a new man, too, and happier than she had ever been, so everything had worked out well for both of them in the end. And fortunately there were no children to add into the equation, which always helped simplify the outcome of a breakup. She couldn’t imagine how difficult that must be; it was bad enough going through divorce without having to drag your children through it, too.

  August 2012

  ‘I still feel a bit weird about Grace, though,’ Alex said, running her hands through her hair. Mark had just proposed to her, and she knew sh
e should be feeling like the happiest woman alive, and jumping at the chance, but she hadn’t yet given him an answer. The poor man was beginning to look worried that she might turn him down. As if! She wanted to marry Mark more than anything, but knew she was doing a lousy job of conveying that fact.

  The circumstances in which she and Mark had come together were somewhat unconventional, so it was inevitable that she would feel a little strange about this situation, even though it was the natural next step. It wasn’t like she had stolen Mark from her best friend, instead she had been there to pick up the pieces when his relationship with Grace had floundered. Not something that she’d intended, but she and Mark had become close friends, and he had started to lean on her more and more for emotional support. During those first few months, Alex hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye with Grace over her affair with Tom and her treatment of Mark, but remarkably their friendship had survived, which was testament to just how strong it was in the first place, and how much the two women really meant to each other. She had never expected that the support she had offered Mark would turn to love – and then to marriage. The first part had all happened very fast, but it had taken her a while to feel like she was ready for marriage again. Now she most definitely was, and Mark’s proposal was very well-timed, despite the impression she might have just given him.

  Alex knew this was no rebound love affair for Mark, despite her speedy promotion from confidante to girlfriend. What he felt for her was deep, meaningful and real. Mark loved her, plain and simple – maybe not with the same all-consuming passion of youth that Peter had – but they were mature adults now, more grounded, a lot more sensible and less likely to get carried away with things. Mark was devoted to her, and that was all that mattered. And then they had their gorgeous son to think about now, as well as the older three. He deserved a secure family environment, with parents who were properly committed to one another.

  Whatever anyone said, there wasn’t just one person for everyone; sometimes you could be lucky enough in life to get a second shot at finding a soul mate. It had worked out that way for Grace with Tom, hadn’t it, and now it was happening for her, too. She was a very lucky lady to have found someone to share not only the rest of her life with, but her wonderful family too. The children needed a man around, it did them all a world of good.

  During her period of single parenthood Alex had missed having someone to share the special moments of her children’s lives. Those occasions when a look of pride exchanged between parents was enough to say, ‘Aren’t they wonderful’, and to know that the feeling was mutual. Mark was more than just a stepfather to her children, he was their friend, too. They loved him to bits, even Archie, in his own funny way. Her eldest was definitely better for Mark being around, than he would have been without. He was so young when Peter died, too young to be expected to step up and assume the role of man of the house. Alex felt that was what he had tried to do, bless him, but she wanted him to have a proper, balanced childhood, and that meant having a strong male role model to look up to, which was particularly important in those formative teen years.

  Mark did understand her reticence. They had been ticking along well as live-in partners, but he felt the time was right now to make their commitment more formal, for their own sakes as well as the children’s. He adored Alex; she was everything he could possibly want in a woman. And he didn’t mean by way of comparison to Grace; it would be wrong to compare the two women. Despite the short space of time between the end of one relationship and the beginnings of another, he knew that Grace was his past and Alex was his future. Enough time had passed since he split from Grace to know that what he was entering into with Alex was right for both of them. For all of them.

  ‘I just love you, Alex. I want to be with you, want to spend the rest of my life with you. That’s it, really. You make me so happy. I love you. I want you and your beautiful children in my life, for ever. What more do I have to say?’

  And then tears of joy ran down Alex’s face as she looked at this wonderful man who had given her a chance of happiness, second time round. But still she couldn’t help the tiniest feelings of disloyalty that were creeping over her. Not only to Grace, towards whom she knew she had absolutely no need to feel disloyal, but to the memory of Peter. She knew Peter would have wanted her to move on; God knows, if the tables were turned and he had been left alone, she hoped that by now he would have sorted himself out with a new woman in his life. It had been nine years since she lost him, and until Mark came along, there had been no one else. But no one deserved to be lonely, and she was sure that Peter would be glad she had found love again.

  ‘I love you too, Mark,’ Alex said, taking hold of his hand and looking him in the eye. ‘So let’s do this! Let’s have a huge wedding, with a marquee on the lawn, all the children as bridesmaids and page boys – oh, can you imagine Archie in a suit, he’s going to hate that! Let’s do it! I love you too, I want to marry you, of course I do!’

  She could see the tension lifting from Mark’s shoulders. He stepped forward, lifted her up and whizzed her round in a circle, just like Rosie liked him to do.

  ‘I love you, Mrs Hopper-to-be!’

  July 2015

  ‘She’s doing really well, Alex,’ Grace said, putting down her notes. ‘I don’t need these, and you don’t need me to tell you that she’s way above where she needs to be at nine.’ It was parents’ evening at Cropley School, and although Alex knew she could talk to Grace about her youngest daughter’s progress at any time, she still felt she needed to go through the proper channels, and have a formal meeting with Grace. It wouldn’t be fair to Rosie not to do it the correct way.

  ‘I love having her in my class, she’s just like you, only a mini-version.’ Grace started piling her papers together and tidying chairs as Alex reached for her coat and bag. She had arranged to be the last person of the evening to see Grace, so that the pair of them could head off to the pub for a drink afterwards and catch up on news. Mark was holding the fort in the Hopper household, and Karina was babysitting the twins, as Tom had to stay behind for a meeting, so the two women had a pass for the evening and they certainly intended to use it. It wasn’t often now that it was just the two of them, and Grace liked it that way. None of the tensions of how to behave around her ex; she could simply relax and enjoy her friend’s company.

  ‘So, end of term next week, then. Tell me all about this holiday of yours. It sounds fab.’

  Grace talked her friend through all their plans. ‘I think Tom still has some misgivings, though. I hope it’ll be OK. It’s just different, isn’t it, going away with another family, even though they’re all gorgeous and we love them to bits. I mean, at our age, we’re all pretty set in our ways, aren’t we? I want to feel this is our holiday and not just that we’re tagging along on someone else’s.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine, Evie showed me the website for the chateau. Looks absolutely huge. You’ll probably only bump into each other once a day.’

  ‘So have you booked anything up?’ Grace asked.

  ‘Well, I suppose you’ve heard we’ve got Mark’s mum staying at the mo, so that’s kind of scuppered things for now, but no, we hadn’t got anything booked anyway. Thought maybe we’d try and get a last minute deal for the back end of the holidays, we’ll see.’ Alex shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not looking her friend in the eye. Grace assumed it was the mention of Mark’s mum that had done it. Margaret and Grace had never really seen eye to eye, and Margaret had held Grace entirely responsible for the break-up with Mark, refusing to hear her point of view. Not that it was any of her business, Grace thought. You could have too many lawyers in one family, all thinking it was their job to sort everything out.

  Two glasses of champagne arrived on their table.

  ‘From those two over there,’ Steve, the barman announced. ‘Get yer coats, lovelies, you’ve pulled.’ Steve laughed. He was a good friend of both women and considered it highly amusing that these newcomers to his pub thought t
hey were fair game.

  ‘Don’t look now, but I don’t fancy yours much!’ Alex laughed. It was a long time since a strange man had bought her a drink, and she had to admit to being a teensy bit flattered.

  ‘Hope they’re not expecting to be invited over,’ Grace said. ‘Can’t two women have a drink in a pub on their own in the twenty-first century without blokes thinking they want to be picked up?’

  ‘Calm down, Grace, and drink your champagne. We could have a bit of fun with this. Watch and learn, girl, watch and learn.’

  Grace watched as Alex waved to the men, and much to her horror, beckoned to them to come over. ‘By the way, from now on you’re Tracey and I’m Shazza.’

  ‘You’re incorrigible,’ Grace smiled at her friend. It was a while since she’d seen Alex pull off one of her pranks. For a quiet, generally reserved woman, she had a wicked sense of humour, and when she got into a ‘role’ like this, there was no stopping her.

  ‘Hello, boys,’ Alex smiled as the two men sat down at their table, looking like they couldn’t quite believe their luck.

  ‘I’m Shazza, and this here’s me mate, Tracey. You come ‘ere often?’ For some reason only known to Alex, she was now speaking in a Welsh accent. Grace tried not to giggle, and to play her part, as she’d been told. She wasn’t very good at a Welsh accent, though, so knew she’d have to leave the talking to Alex.

  ‘Well, we do,’ she went on, before the men could even reply. ‘Night off from the kids, ya see. Six kids I’s got. Different dads, though. Well, me first bloke, ‘e was a miner, but then they closed the pits, didn’t they, an’ ‘e threw us out, me an’ the first three.’ She was really getting into the swing of things, now. Neither man had said a word yet, both sat riveted to ‘Shazza’s’ story. Grace started to feel a bit sorry for them; they actually looked like decent guys and she was sure they hadn’t been expecting this.