The Lie of Love Read online

  ‘I know,’ Darcy smiled. ‘It just didn’t seem like the sort of thing to ask on the phone. And I wanted to explain it to you properly, face to face, no distractions from the household. I hope you didn’t lose too many hours.’

  ‘Enough to need an extra layer of concealer this morning…’ Amanda reached for the menu. ‘Are you eating? Shall we order before we begin this life-changing conversation?’

  ‘I think I’ll just grab a slice of apple cake and a coffee. I’m not all that hungry.’

  ‘I’ll get the same.’ Amanda looked up to find the waitress smiling down at them. ‘Morning Rachel. How’s your mum?’

  ‘She’s recovering well,’ the waitress replied. ‘The doctors say she should be on her feet and running around the soup kitchen again in no time.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Amanda said in her most sincere tone. ‘Do give her my love, won’t you? So… Darcy and I will both have an Americano and a slice of apple cake.’ Rachel bobbed her head in acknowledgement and left them. ‘She is such a pretty girl,’ Amanda said, watching her go. ‘Almost makes me wish fairy tales were real so I could steal her youth for myself.’

  ‘She is,’ Darcy agreed with a chuckle. As well as being a femme fatale her friend was also slightly barking mad. Darcy often thought that was the reason she liked her so much. ‘Though I’m not sure I’d go all that far. I didn’t realise her mum was in hospital. What’s she had done?’

  ‘Hysterectomy…’ Amanda smoothed back a perfect blonde wave. ‘Poor thing – only forty-five.’

  ‘Poor thing indeed. Was it cancer?’

  ‘Oh no, I don’t think so. I think she was having problems… you know, with her monthlies. And I think they all came to the conclusion that there was nothing else for it but to get rid.’

  Darcy raised her eyebrows. She was used to her friend’s blunt statements but sometimes they still made her want to laugh at things she wasn’t supposed to laugh at.

  ‘Whatever doctor she saw, remind me never to see them if the same thing happens to me.’

  ‘Oh I think you’ll be perfectly healthy and lovely forever. I mean, who decided it was fair to give you the ten-years-younger genes and not me? Five years between us and yet I could pass as your mother.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Darcy giggled. ‘I’ve spent half the morning plucking out new greys.’

  ‘Greys? At thirty-six?’

  ‘Thirty-seven, actually...’

  ‘Oh! I forgot your birthday again?’ Amanda squeaked, looking mortified. ‘Every year, you must hate me!’

  ‘I could never hate you. In fact, I will always forgive you, right now, in advance, for every year that you will miss until we’re both dead,’ Darcy smiled.

  ‘I suppose it means that whatever favour you’re going to ask me this morning I will have to say yes to.’

  Darcy looked up as Rachel returned with their order. She gave her a smile as the girl placed coffee and cake in front of them. ‘I never thought of it like that. ‘I suppose it does.’

  ‘Thank you, Rachel, darling,’ Amanda said as she reached for the sugar bowl.

  ‘No problem, Mrs Gale.’

  ‘Oh, dear God, don’t call me Mrs Gale – it’s simply hideous. Amanda will do just fine.’

  Rachel blushed, but far from looking like a vein-ridden tomato as Darcy always felt she did when she blushed, she did almost look like a very pretty, real-life version of Disney’s Snow White. Darcy felt herself struck by an emotion she had never experienced in quite that way before, and it had come from out of the blue. And no matter how she might want to, she could not deny what that emotion was: it was envy. Perhaps Amanda’s comment about wicked fairytale queens was just what Darcy herself was really thinking but would never dare admit. Amanda might joke that Darcy looked young for her age, and indeed, many had said it, but that wasn’t how Darcy felt when she woke every morning to find a new wrinkle that hadn’t been there the previous day. Every day she seemed to be choked by a new awareness of the passing of time, of how the days of her life now seemed to fall away like autumn leaves, and in many ways she knew that the time she spent devoted to her family was a way to deny herself those creeping fears, to focus on something else other than the recognition of her own mortality.

  ‘Sorry,’ Rachel said. ‘I’m so used to it now.’

  ‘Well, I think eighteen is a good a time as any to start seeing yourself as an equal to other women and not as a girl anymore…’ Amanda turned to Darcy. ‘Don’t you agree?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Darcy shook her head to clear the sudden melancholy thoughts that muddled it.

  ‘I was saying that eighteen is old enough to see yourself as an equal to other women.’

  ‘You’re eighteen now?’ Darcy asked. ‘Wow, that went fast. I can still remember when you were playing down on that beach with your water wings on and it feels like last year.’

  ‘I’m twenty in two months, actually,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Oh hell, more birthdays I’ve missed!’ Amanda rolled her eyes heavenwards theatrically.

  Darcy laughed, her friend’s infectious humour lifting her from her own sombre introspection. ‘I think if we give Rachel an extra big tip we can make up for it.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that.’ Rachel blushed again. ‘Enjoy your cake,’ she added, before scurrying off to avoid any further embarrassment.

  ‘I’m sure we will,’ Amanda said, turning her attention to the polka-dot plate in front of her, upon which sat a sumptuous looking slice of iced sponge. ‘The apple cake in here is heavenly,’ she added, picking up her fork and shearing a huge chunk off, which went directly into her mouth. ‘So,’ she said, looking up at Darcy as she chewed. ‘What’s this big secret?’

  ‘It’s no secret.’ Darcy took a sip of her coffee. It was freshly brewed and had a bitter kick to it that she liked. She had to admit that she couldn’t fault Amanda’s choice of café when it came down their goods, even if it did get ridiculously busy.

  ‘It’s just a huge favour I need to ask of you, and I realise it will be huge and you can obviously say no if you want to.’

  Amanda’s next piece of cake stopped midway to her mouth. ‘Good grief, this sounds serious. You don’t want a kidney, do you? I can’t deny you much but a kidney is taking our friendship too far.’

  ‘Not a kidney,’ Darcy smiled. ‘Just a great deal of enthusiasm and commitment and probably a lot of your time too.’

  ‘Enthusiasm is my middle name. Commitment not so much but we can work around that. And time I have in spades. Ask away, darling.’

  ‘There’s an operation that Sophie can have. It may help her to walk, but more importantly, it will almost certainly ease the constant spasms in her legs –’

  ‘Really? Well that’s marvellous news! I assume you’ve put her name down for this?’

  ‘I would but it’s not quite that simple. The only surgeon qualified to do this procedure, or rather, the best qualified to do this procedure, is in Florida. So it means we have to find the money for not only the operation itself, but all the aftercare and the three weeks we’d have to stay in Florida for.’

  ‘I see your problem. Do you want to borrow some?’

  ‘Oh, God, no!’ Darcy squeaked. ‘I couldn’t ask you to lend me that kind of money. I could never ask anyone to lend that kind of money. But I thought that you would be the perfect person to help me raise it. You’re smart, organised, persuasive, connected…’

  Amanda held up her hand with an obviously pleased and very musical laugh. ‘There’s no need to flatter me… although I do rather like it… on second thoughts, carry on.’

  ‘I’d be useless doing this by myself,’ Darcy continued, getting into her stride and gripped by a new enthusiasm as she saw that the eventual outcome of this conversation might just get her first and most precious recruit, ‘and Ged has made it quite clear that he doesn’t have time to do much of it.’

  ‘He does work long hours,’ Amanda agreed.

  ‘Exactly. So will yo
u do it, will you be my campaign manager?’

  ‘It does sound like a hoot. And already I have tons of ideas… Oh, why not!’ Amanda took a sip of her coffee, and then looked over the rim of her cup at Darcy with a huge grin. ‘We’ll have your money in no time at all.’

  Darcy leapt from her seat and reached across the table to pull Amanda into a hug. ‘Thank you!’

  ‘Steady on!’ Amanda laughed as she swerved the coffee cup out of the way. ‘I haven’t done anything yet.’

  ‘But it means so much to me that you said you would help.’ Darcy returned to her seat, eyes shining with new vigour and purpose. ‘I’ve spent so much of the last couple of days obsessing over this plan, in my darker moments convinced that I’m being an idiot for even thinking it could work, and now that you’re on board I just know that we have a chance of success.’

  ‘I’m glad you have such faith in me, darling, but faith alone won’t bring in the pennies.’ Amanda dug into a huge leather handbag and pulled out a notebook. She opened it up to a crisp first page and clicked a pen on. ‘Always be ready for anything,’ she smiled as she saw Darcy raise her eyebrows at the brand new book.

  ‘And you always are,’ Darcy laughed.

  ‘Of course. Now, I need all the information you can give me about this procedure and what you need from the fundraising campaign, a bit of background for me to work with, and then we need to brainstorm some ideas.’

  ‘I’ve got so many I don’t know where to begin. I thought about raffles, bake sales, tin shaking at supermarkets...’

  ‘And that’s exactly why you need me. You know you can’t just go around willy nilly asking people for money, you need to make them feel as though they’re part of something. So first of all you need a name for your campaign, something catchy, something that will fire the imaginations of your contributors, something that makes them feel part of a crusade that matters. And you need to have all the legalities sorted right away too – a bank account set up specifically for that cause which you or Ged cannot access unless it is for the cause, contracts drawn up between you and the organisations who get involved – everything has to be transparent and above board, you see?’

  ‘Brilliant. Already you’ve thought of things that never crossed my mind.’

  ‘Of course I have, that’s why you hired me. So what are we going to call this thing?’

  Darcy picked up her coffee and blew gently at the surface. As she took a sip, she ran through connections in her mind to come up with a name that would perfectly sum up what the campaign was about. What did she want it to achieve, above all else? Was it for Sophie or more for herself that she felt compelled to chase this dream? Was it about simply helping Sophie to walk and ridding her of the constant pain that had become so much a part of her life that she no longer complained about it, only suffered with a quiet acceptance? Or was it about changing her daughter’s entire future prospects? And what would it mean for the rest of the family?

  ‘How about Sophie’s Wish?’

  ‘That sounds a bit vague,’ Amanda said with a frown. ‘She could be wishing for a new Barbie for all the casual observer would know. It needs to be harder hitting than that – poetic and catchy yet succinctly inform the importance of the goal.’

  ‘The Change Sophie’s Life Foundation?’

  Amanda’s frown deepened. ‘Better… but still not there… how about the Sophie’s First Steps Trust?’

  ‘Or just Sophie’s Steps? Shorter and catchier?’

  Amanda began to scribble on her notepad. ‘We’ll jot some of these down and I’ll ask people, see what the consensus is, then we’ll choose. Let me know if any more pop into your head.’

  Darcy nodded. ‘Sounds like a plan…’ she was just about to pull a corner off her cake when she was aware of a brisk breeze blowing through the café. She looked up to see the door had opened.

  ‘Oh, here’s Rachel’s adorable future boyfriend,’ Amanda said in a theatrical whisper.

  ‘Future?’ Darcy said with a pretend frown. ‘You’re not matchmaking, are you?’

  ‘I think they’re doing a fine job of matchmaking all by themselves. He comes in every day now, but they do both seem to need a kick up the backside so that one of them will actually ask the question.’

  Darcy watched the newcomer traverse the café in confident, eager strides, making a beeline for the counter where Rachel’s blushes seemed to have intensified into something that could power a generator as she watched him. His hair was just a whisper away from jet black, eyes of the brightest blue. He was blessed with the sort of fearless smile that is the preserve of the young, of knowing that life stretches before them like a vast, untroubled pool – shimmering aqua, waiting for that first deep breath and the plunge into a magical world of swirling silver and blue – where anything is still possible. Already the summer had given his skin a golden glow and his figure, whilst not sporting the six-pack of legend, was lean and muscular, born of natural and regular exercise, and his shirtless entrance spoke of his peacock-like assurance in showing it. He was, without doubt, an exceptional looking boy.

  ‘They’d make a cute couple,’ Darcy said.

  ‘Watch now… he’ll order a latte to take out. He’s done it every day for the last three weeks. And a doughnut with sprinkles. And he’ll give her that boyband smile as he does and she’ll scurry off like a frightened mouse to get his order and hand it over with her breast heaving and hands shaking, but watch him as he leaves with pure lust in her eyes.’

  Darcy burst out laughing so loudly that the couple, as well as quite a few other patrons, turned to stare at her. Darcy put a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles that now wouldn’t stop and turned her burning face to her cake.

  ‘You should write bodice ripping dramas,’ Darcy finally said once she had her breathing under control. ‘I’ve never heard a romantic liaison described in quite such a breathtaking fashion.

  ‘I’m glad you approve,’ Amanda grinned.

  ‘Where’s he from?’ Darcy asked. She was pretty well connected in Lyme Regis, as Amanda was, but she didn’t recognise him. If he had been coming in every day for three weeks he wasn’t likely to be a visitor to the town.

  ‘It’s Harry Simmons.’

  ‘Julia Simmons’ son?’ Darcy looked again. ‘Oh dear Lord, so it is! Last time I saw him he was a schoolboy with trousers that were constantly in danger of falling down and a permanent zit on the end of his nose. I hardly recognised him.’

  It was Amanda’s turn to laugh. ‘They grow up fast, don’t they? He’s just done his first year at university…. Exeter, I think, but I can’t be sure. I do believe he’s home for the summer, helping out at the lifeguard station.’

  As Darcy glanced over for another, surreptitious look she made the latent connection, noting that he was wearing the regulatory lifeguard uniform of orange swim shorts and had a whistle hanging from his neck. She was pretty sure that they were supposed to wear a yellow t-shirt too, although it was obvious to her now why his was missing as he leaned across the counter and fired a dazzling smile to Rachel, who dipped her head and blushed furiously as she pressed the lid onto his take-out latte. ‘They do grow up fast,’ she repeated quietly, wondering why she was suddenly feeling warm herself.

  ‘I know…’ Amanda lowered her voice. ‘If it wasn’t so dreadfully immoral I’d be thinking naughty thoughts about him too. He has turned into quite a dish.’

  ‘Hmmmm,’ Darcy tore her gaze away and concentrated on her cake as though her very life depended on her memorising every drizzle of icing as he turned to make his way from the café, catching her eye as he went. She suddenly felt like a child caught by her mother for some dreadful crime against the household. In his wake a fresh, boyish scent lingered.

  ‘Dear God, he even smells divine, doesn’t he?’ Amanda laughed, airing Darcy’s thoughts as if she was reading them. ‘If that silly girl doesn’t snap him up soon I’d be tempted to offer him the Mrs Robinson substitute.’

  ‘I think your H
owie might have something to say about that.’

  ‘Possibly. It’s lucky he’s stinking rich and fairly entertaining otherwise I wouldn’t care what he had to say.’

  ‘You adore him; you know you do; whatever you pretend.’

  ‘Well, twenty-five years marital enslavement has to be put down to some malady so I suppose you might have a point there.’ Amanda took a sip of coffee, her expression becoming thoughtful for a moment. ‘You know, Julia Simmons might not be a bad person to have on board for your project. She’s well connected and she sits on the Church council.’

  ‘I haven’t seen her for years, other than a friendly wave across the road. We’ve never been exactly close anyway. I doubt she’d be interested in helping me.’

  ‘I think you underestimate the lure of pomp and importance. She’s exactly the sort of woman who loves being at the centre of something likely to make a stir in the town’s social calendar. And you’re not asking her to run a marathon, only use her brains and make a few phone calls. I think she’d be in like a shot.’

  Darcy smiled as she recalled having exactly the same thoughts about Amanda. ‘Perhaps we could ask her then, if you think it’s worth it.’

  ‘I’ll pop round and see her later today.’ Amanda drained her cup and placed it with vigour back into her saucer. Her eyes were shining with purpose and zeal as she turned her gaze to Darcy. ‘Now then, let’s start batting some hardcore ideas around and get this thing off the ground. We’ve got a family to send to America!’

  With promises to get advice from Howie, her husband, and then get the official strands of the campaign started, Amanda left Darcy with a brief kiss on the cheek and a warm, sincere hug to go into town for some shopping. Darcy negotiated the busy streets back to her car, the sun burning at her back, lost in thought and slightly overwhelmed at the task she had set herself. With Amanda’s input, the thing seemed to have taken on a life of its own and suddenly, as it bore down on Darcy, it seemed so much bigger than her and Ged and their children. Had she really thought through what it would mean for them? And she realised something else too, something important she had neglected to do. As much as she had convinced herself and even Ged that this was a good idea, she hadn’t actually asked Sophie herself if it was what she wanted. It was all very well deciding that her daughter ought to go through extensive and life-changing surgery on the other side of the world, but at nine, wasn’t her daughter now old enough and qualified enough to make the decision too? Jake had been a very different sort of nine-year-old and with no other frame of reference, Darcy wasn’t really sure at all. But perhaps she should at least talk to her daughter about what was going to happen, explain to her somehow that her quiet life would soon be tipped upside down.