The Lie of Love Page 6

  ‘Neither are you,’ Ged shot back with a grin.

  ‘Urgh! You can be so infuriating!’

  ‘It’s why you married me.’

  ‘So you won’t do it?’

  ‘Seriously, I’ll ask people at work for money and I’ll put up with you never being here… I might even be persuaded to run a marathon or something, but don’t ask me to be in the paper. It’s just not my thing.’

  ‘It’s not mine either but I’m doing it.’

  ‘I suppose that makes you the better person.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m saying.’ Darcy let out a huge sigh. It was clear that she wasn’t going to get any further with this conversation. ‘Fine... I’ll do it with the kids. We’ll say you’re working all hours or something like that so that we can put more of our own money to the cause.’

  ‘In a way that’s not really a lie. I do work all hours.’

  ‘So many that you can’t spare half an hour for this, apparently.’

  ‘And we are sinking all our spare money into the cause,’ he replied, ignoring her jibe. ‘I’m even borrowing from my parents.’

  ‘I know. But they wanted to help, remember?’

  Ged grunted a reply and turned his attention to the TV screen. Darcy pushed herself wearily from the sofa. ‘I’d better get the kids bathed and ready for bed.’ When no reply came, Darcy took herself off to the bathroom.

  After fetching a couple of clean towels from the airing cupboard, she sat on the side of the bath, watching the bubbles blossom as the water ran deeper, her mood wavering between thoughtfulness, frustration and utter emotional exhaustion. She could understand and even empathise with Ged’s reticence to be in the spotlight, but some sacrifices were necessary. She just wished Ged would see that the way she did. As well as giving Sophie the sort of chances in life that she could never have imagined otherwise, Darcy had half hoped, in some secret corner of her mind, that the endeavour would pull her and Ged together again as a couple – united in a common goal and so united in love. Because, these days, all they seemed united in was bickering and downright stubbornness with each other. She was beginning to see that she was wrong. She was beginning to see that their campaign might just have the opposite effect and drive a wedge between her and Ged. And in that same secret corner of her mind, part of her didn’t really care anymore.

  ‘Those look stunning.’ Julia peeled back the layer of greaseproof paper on a shallow box of brightly coloured cupcakes adorned with sugar flowers and butterflies. ‘I can’t believe you don’t do this for a living.’

  Darcy smiled as she hauled a second box onto the folding table they had just covered in a pink checked tablecloth. ‘I’d hate baking if I had to do it all the time. Doing it as a hobby is just fine, thank you. Besides, I hardly have time to shake a bag of icing sugar into a bowl just lately let alone anything else.’

  ‘They taste as good as they look too,’ Amanda cut in as she tipped a bag of coins into a cash box. ‘Believe me; I’ve done some extensive testing on them to make sure.’

  ‘I suppose the kids must keep you busy,’ Julia agreed. ‘I forget just what it was like when they were little, especially now Harry is at the age where he doesn’t really need me anymore.’

  ‘Don’t boys always need their mums, no matter how old they are?’ Amanda asked.

  ‘They need their washing doing if that counts,’ Julia laughed.

  What Darcy wanted to ask, more than anything, was whether Harry would show his face at the bake sale that afternoon, but she couldn’t trust herself to keep a neutral expression, whatever the reply was. Instead, she went about industriously uncovering trays and boxes of cakes and laying them neatly out and trying not to think about the tingles in her gut that exploded when he looked her way.

  ‘But he’ll always be my baby I suppose,’ Julia added with a fond smile. ‘Even when some pretty girl turns his head and steals him away from me.’

  Darcy looked up, suddenly struck by guilt at the thought that she could be looking at herself in less than ten years time, talking about Jake. How would she feel if someone she trusted, a woman old enough to know better, harboured thoughts about her son like the ones she had about Julia’s? Wouldn’t she be sickened and betrayed, concerned only with protecting him from all emotional pain? Wouldn’t she fight to the death to keep that woman away, knowing that a relationship such as theirs could only bring sadness in the end? There could be no future in an affair like that and only a fool would think otherwise. ‘I hope we’ve got enough,’ she said, arms folded, appraising the row of cake-laden trays and trying to shift her focus back on the task in hand.

  ‘I hope so too,’ Amanda said. ‘I’m banking on there being leftovers to take home.’

  ‘There’d better not be or we haven’t done our jobs properly,’ Julia laughed. ‘Failure is not a word I am familiar with when it comes to fundraising and if we don’t sell every last cake, every last homemade jar of chutney or bottle of wine then I’m taking to the streets to sell it there.’

  ‘I am so grateful that everyone I meet is this supportive,’ Darcy replied earnestly. She felt it keenly at moments like this – the debt she owed so many people already and would continue to owe them for the rest of her life. ‘I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for your kindness.’

  ‘We’ll say no more about that,’ Julia smiled. ‘I’m only doing what a good Christian girl should do and seeing a family transformed will be reward enough.’

  ‘Well… thank you doesn’t seem anywhere near big enough a sentiment, but…’ Darcy felt the heat of blurred tears in her eyes and she wiped them quickly away. Amanda reached over and pulled her into a hug.

  ‘Don’t be silly. You and your family deserve a break. Too many awful people in this world get exactly what they want where good families suffer. Now dry your eyes and get ready to face your public otherwise they’ll think you’re crying because your cakes are so bad.’

  Darcy laughed through her tears. ‘We wouldn’t want that, would we? Go on, I’m good now,’ she added, rubbing a sleeve across her eyes, ‘you can open the doors.’

  Julia took up a huge bunch of keys and made her way to a set of heavy double doors, the woodwork thick with decades of paint. As she unlocked and threw them open to let in a bright wedge of sunlight but little else, Darcy frowned.

  ‘God, I hope someone actually comes to this otherwise you may get a lot more leftovers than you bargained for.’

  ‘They will,’ Amanda said in an encouraging voice. ‘People like to be fashionably late. Besides, we have a board up in town as well as posters in The Sugar Cube so with a bit of luck some inquisitive holidaymakers will see those too and make their way up for a nose around.’

  As if to prove the truth of her prediction, as she spoke a group of silver haired ladies wandered into the hall, making a beeline for the shelves of glass-jarred produce.

  ‘What did I tell you?’ Amanda said with a satisfied smile. ‘You need to have more faith, Darcy.’

  ‘I suppose I do. But sometimes I still can’t quite believe that people are so willing to get involved in all this – give up their time and money to help a family they hardly know or have never met.’

  ‘You would do it,’ Amanda said.

  Darcy nodded. ‘I’d like to think so.’

  ‘Where’s the difference then?’

  Darcy smiled. ‘You’re right. I just feel like I have a debt I’ll never be able to pay off.’

  ‘Just remember me in your will,’ Amanda laughed. She glanced across at the door where a woman with a toddler in a pushchair came in, heading towards the cakes as the little boy jiggled about in his straps, obviously desperate to flee the confines of his carriage. ‘Look sharp, we’ve got more customers.’

  Before Darcy had another chance to dwell on the uncertainties that seemed to plague her every waking hour these days, two hours had flown by. The church hall had gradually filled with the sounds of chatter as the pocket in her apron where she kept her change grew heavie
r with the increasingly limited opportunities she had to deposit it into the cash box. It was immensely satisfying to see her cakes disappearing fast and approving smiles from the people who ate them there and then. And just when Darcy was beginning to relax and enjoy herself, a familiar figure ambled into the hall. He headed straight for the preserves stall where Julia was busy reading out the ingredients of some chutney to a short-sighted old man.

  Darcy felt the breath catch in her throat, a sudden acute consciousness of her every move, of how her hair looked, of whether the subtle curve of what Ged affectionately called her leftover baby belly showed in the top she was wearing, of whether her make-up had slid off in the heat as much as she feared it had. She knew that it was an irrational, even stupid reaction to his appearance, but it was like someone else was driving her body whenever he was near. She watched as Julia looked up with a broad smile for her son.

  ‘Oh good,’ Julia said, ‘you can help out here while I get a cup of tea; I’m absolutely parched.’

  Without waiting for his reply, Julia dashed off towards where the vicar’s wife was standing sentry next to a huge metal tea urn and a pile of gleaming white stoneware. Looking slightly bemused, Harry took himself behind the table and stood next to the cashbox, hands in his pockets as he watched the customers browsing the jars of jams and pickles. Then he looked up and shot a blazing smile in Darcy’s direction that made her legs suddenly weak. She tried to smile back, but what she returned was more like a pained grimace. Damn this boy – she didn’t want to feel like this about him and she certainly had no right to. She was grateful beyond belief when someone stood in her eyeline to ask the price of an entire box of lemon cupcakes.

  When she looked up again, Julia was back at her post and Harry was striding towards them with two cups.

  ‘Mum thought you needed a cup of tea,’ he said, his bright gaze resting on Darcy for just a little too long. Or was that her imagination?

  ‘That’s sweet of her,’ Amanda said, taking a cup from him. ‘I was getting desperate here.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Darcy said, not trusting herself to say anything more as he handed her the other drink.

  ‘You look like you’re doing really well today.’ Harry sunk his hands into his pockets and glanced around with a nonchalance that Darcy wished she could feel too. His attention came back to Darcy, and then onto the cakes spread before them. ‘You baked these?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Wow, they look amazing. I bet you can really cook. I bet you’re good at loads of stuff.’

  Fighting the heat she could feel spreading from her neck, Darcy looked down at the cakes with a self-conscious laugh. ‘I can bake ok but I wouldn’t say I’m much good at anything else.’

  ‘That’s not what I’ve heard.’

  ‘What?’ Darcy looked up to see him hold her in a fearless gaze. He wasn’t laughing, only watching her intently.

  ‘Mum tells me you can turn your hand to pretty much anything. She’s super impressed by the way you’ve pulled all this charity stuff together and she says you’re the most determined person she’s ever met.’

  For a moment, Darcy was lost for words, but this time it wasn’t anything to do Harry’s proximity. She had never considered herself a determined person before and certainly didn’t see herself as someone who could turn her hand to anything. Was that really how Julia saw her? Was that how others saw her too? If she wasn’t so doubtful about the truth of his statement she would have allowed the warm glow of pleasure that wanted to spread through her at the thought of it.

  ‘To be honest, Amanda has done most of it,’ Darcy said, glancing across at her friend, who turned her attention to them with the mention of her name.

  ‘What was that, sweetie?’ Amanda asked with a dazzling smile for Harry.

  ‘I said most of this charity stuff was done by you,’ Darcy said.

  ‘Nonsense, darling. I’ve just been moral support because you thought that you couldn’t do it all. When you really look at it, almost everything has been done by you… ably supported by myself and Julia, I’ll admit.’ Amanda’s smiled turned into a half-frown. ‘You don’t ever give yourself enough credit for anything,’ she added.

  ‘Well, I think it’s pretty amazing,’ Harry said, looking at Darcy again as if she was the only person in the room.

  ‘Then I’m sure you’ll want to buy some cakes,’ Amanda cut in, clearly oblivious to the tension that suddenly crackled in the air as he studied Darcy. Or was that in Darcy’s imagination too? Did she see chemistry where there was none? Did that mean she wanted there to be chemistry, despite what she told herself?

  ‘You don’t have to buy them,’ Darcy said, ‘of course you don’t. You get them for free; it’s the least I can do for all your help.’

  ‘I’ll take some of those…’ he pointed at a tray of rocky road cut into generous squares, ‘but I insist on paying for them.’

  ‘Please…’ Darcy hurried to put as many as she could fit into a paper bag together. ‘I couldn’t possibly… please take them as my gift…’

  ‘Ok. Thank you then.’ As he took them from her it seemed to Darcy that he made a point of his hand touching hers and resting there, flesh on flesh, for much longer than it needed to exchange ownership of the bag. She couldn’t fight the thrill that raced down her spine, straight to her guts to set off that wild tingling again. Struggling to push the feeling from her mind and reclaim her thoughts, she smiled weakly. ‘You’re more than welcome.’

  ‘I’ll think of you when I enjoy these later,’ he said, leaning in and lowering his voice with a smouldering look. Darcy glanced across at Amanda but she was busy chatting to the vicar’s wife who had come over during a brief lull in the hot drinks trade.

  ‘I hope you like them,’ Darcy replied, not knowing what else to say. Was he really flirting with her? Or did he talk like that to everyone? She had always liked to think she could read people and that she knew flirting when she saw it, but to have it directed at her by someone who could so obviously have almost any girl he wanted – girl being the operative word, not a woman who was almost old enough to be his mother? She couldn’t be reading the situation right, surely? Her judgement was clouded by the strange effect he had on her; that could be the only explanation. Besides, she was married and he was the son of a woman who was fast becoming a good friend. Whether he was flirting or not, she couldn’t let it become anything else.

  ‘I’m sure I will,’ he grinned, his voice at a more natural level again, the supercharged moment seemingly gone as quickly as it had come. ‘I might even stuff these right now and come back for more.’

  ‘You’ll be sick if you’re not careful, Harry…’ Julia’s voice seemed to come from nowhere – Darcy hadn’t even notice her cross the room from her own stall to theirs. She was suddenly gripped by a cold fear that Julia had seen the exchange between her and Harry, but she seemed so relaxed and unconcerned that Darcy realised, with a rush of relief, that she couldn’t have done. ‘I need some change if you have a little over here,’ Julia added.

  ‘You’ve seen me eat way more cake than this in one go and come back for more,’ Harry laughed.

  ‘Just don’t think I’m going to be nursing your stomach ache later on,’ his mother replied in a brisk tone. Darcy gave her a handful of change she had pulled from her apron pocket and Julia was across the room again without another word. Harry looked at Darcy with an impish grin.

  ‘If I get stomach ache later, I think it’s only right it’s nursed by the woman who gave it to me.’

  Darcy’s mouth dropped open this time, but before she had the appropriate reply in her head, he was waving a casual hand and making his way to the doors. ‘Later, Mum,’ he shouted.

  Julia waved in return, and then he was gone.

  After a restless night, Darcy woke to Ged tossing the free newspaper onto the pillow beside her.

  ‘Your story is in,’ he said as he wandered from the room again, fiddling with the top button of his work shirt.

>   Darcy rubbed her eyes and snatched up the paper, flicking the pages to find the photo of her, Sophie and Jake the photographer had taken in their front garden a few days before.

  She found it, accompanied by the headline:

  SOPHIE’S WISH TO TAKE FIRST STEPS: Local mum in 45K charity bid to make her daughter’s dreams of walking come true.

  Darcy smiled. It was a lovely photo of the three of them. She and Jake had been asked to group around Sophie in her wheelchair and kiss her on either cheek. Darcy had thought it seemed a bit cheesy at the time, but now, as she looked at it, she realised that the photographer might just be a master of manipulation. Sophie looked adorable and just on the right side of needy and appealing without looking pathetic, while Jake and Darcy looked loving and dedicated. It was bound to pull at heartstrings, and in her cynical mind, that was exactly what Darcy wanted the article to achieve. She only wished that Ged would have put his prejudices aside and taken part in the photo shoot too.

  Reaching over to the bedside table for her phone, she tapped out a quick text to Amanda. Her friend’s reply didn’t take long to come back:

  I’ve just seen it. Looks fabulous. X

  It did look fabulous, Darcy agreed silently as she looked again. But local newspaper star or not, she had a family to get ready for the day. Yawning, she clambered out of bed and grabbed a dressing gown from the hook on the door.

  Jake and Sophie’s beds were both already empty when Darcy went to wake them for school. She arrived in the kitchen to find Ged putting bread in the toaster and the kids sitting at the table, both yawning and staring silently into space.

  ‘My children look very sleepy this morning,’ Darcy said with a smile. ‘A sure sign I wasn’t here to put them to bed, and that Daddy might have been fibbing slightly when he told me they had gone to bed on time.’

  ‘Well…’ Ged replied without turning around, ‘if mummy had been here instead of getting drunk with Amanda, she would have been able to put the kids to bed on time instead of leaving poor daddy to do it.’

  Darcy frowned. She could have said that in a year the previous night was the only time Ged had put his children to bed, and that far from getting drunk as he had accused, she was at Amanda’s house with Julia making plans for the next few months of events, that they only had a couple of glasses of wine as they worked, at Amanda’s insistence. But she realised that her words would be wasted and there was no point in souring the mood of the morning for her children as well as for her and Ged. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it,’ she said instead. ‘It was good of you to take charge of bedtime last night as I was busy with the campaign.’