Midsummer Magic

‘It’s Josie,’ said a crisp clear voice on the other end. Josie’s voice sparkled like a babbling brook, he’d forgotten what a lovely sound it was. ‘And we’ll be with you in about five minutes. Don’t be so impatient.’

Delicious. Josie even sounded lovely when she was telling him off. Harry was a lucky man. No doubt about that.

Five minutes later, true to Josie’s word, Harry’s poxy little Honda Civic drove into the car park. It really was a girl’s car.

Putting out his cigarette, Ant unrolled himself from his position and strode over to say hello.

‘Harry, great to see you, mate!’ he said giving him a thump on the back and feeling absurdly affectionate towards his oldest friend.

‘You, too!’ said Harry punching him in the ribs.

‘Josie, you look lovely as ever,’ he said, giving her a hug and a huge kiss on the lips.

‘Flatterer,’ said Josie, neatly escaping from his grasp.

‘And who have we here?’ Ant noted with pleasure a very fetching pair of legs encased in a pair of skinny jeans, emerging from the back of the Civic.

‘Ant, meet my friend, Diana,’ said Josie with a smile. ‘Diana, this is Ant.’

Ant nearly dropped his coffee in shock, as he followed the legs up (via the jeans and busty top) to a ginger (she said auburn) head of hair and pretty face, with those emerald-green eyes he remembered with clarity even though they’d last met eight years ago.

‘You!’ they said simultaneously.

Chapter Two (#ulink_f81946ca-ca60-5226-8a5f-bdc2da807730)

Diana was shaking as she got back into the car. She’d have recognised him anywhere, the arrogant tilt of his chin, the fair hair swept back off his face, revealing deep brown eyes that had once been tender, but then cruel. Teflon Tone? Harry’s mysterious best friend Ant and best-man-to-be. Teflon Tone? How could they be the same person? How was that even possible? Since Josie and Harry had been together, Ant had been mentioned frequently, but he had only recently returned from his travels. Of late, she’d seen less of Josie then she would have liked, so she’d been aware that Ant was back on the scene, but had never met him. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Teflon Tone. The guy who’d ruined her life. And she had to spend a whole weekend with him.

‘So what’s the deal with you and Ant, then?’ Josie turned round in the car to face her friend. ‘How do you know each other?’

‘We don’t,’ mumbled Diana. ‘Not anymore.’

‘Come on,’ teased Josie, ‘I saw that reaction. There must be a story there.’

‘Well, there isn’t,’ said Diana shortly. ‘Can we just drop it now, please.’

‘Oh,’ said Josie, in surprise. ‘Okay.’

She settled back into the front and started making small talk with Harry, while Diana stared out of the window and remembered …

She’d been twenty-two when she met Tony eight years earlier, and happily whiling away a winter working as a chalet rep in Switzerland. At a loose end after university, Ant had taken a temporary job working for her firm, while he worked out what to do with his life. She’d noticed him the first time he’d walked into the bar, it was impossible not to: good-looking, tall, fair, charming as he was. Her instant reaction had been that he wasn’t for her, particularly as he seemed such a flirt, but there’d been something about him from the start. And then she’d fallen in so deep, she couldn’t get out easily, and it was too late to escape the broken heart that had ensued. Eight years she’d spent trying to forget him. Eight years, and now she had to spend the whole weekend with him.

Diana sighed. That was the past, this was the present. She was here for Josie and Harry, she’d just have to try and ignore Tony/Ant/whatever his name was. Because this was Josie and Harry’s weekend and she didn’t want to ruin it for them.

Diana had envied their relationship from the start. A couple truly suited to one another, truly at ease, truly in love. She could never imagine that happening to her. She was far too difficult and spiky, as all the boyfriends she’d ever had had told her. There were reasons for that of course. Having once given her heart irrevocably, and been hurt so badly she thought she might never recover, Diana had sworn never to let herself be so vulnerable again. So she cultivated her tough exterior, sought out short-term relationships she knew would go nowhere, and resolved to stay single and in control for the rest of her life.

Which was all very well, but the downside was she was sometimes lonely. A fact she barely ever admitted to herself, let alone anyone else. Particularly since Josie and Harry had been living together. Diana had little in common with her new flatmates, who were friends of friends, and when not working late, spent most evenings alone watching crap TV. Recently the offers from men seemed to be less forthcoming than in the past. Josie had once told her that she scared them off. The trouble with cultivating an image of invulnerability of course, meaning that people thought it was true. If only they knew …

Diana wished in a way she could be more like Josie, who was most definitely not spiky. Everyone loved Josie. It was impossible not to. Josie was kind and open and friendly, all the things Diana found it hard to be. It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends, but people didn’t love her the way they loved Josie. Not at work, where her ambitious nature had given her a reputation for ruthlessness, nor in her social life, where she’d ended up dropping most of her girlfriends once they were shacked up. Apart from Josie. But that was because Josie was exceptionally kind. As was Harry. Diana felt sure he didn’t quite get his fiancée’s sarcastic; difficult friend, and put up with her for Josie’s sake.

While Josie, Josie was kind and tolerant of their differences. And one of her special gifts was bringing people together in difficult social situations. When she realised the extent to which her best friend and Harry’s actually did know each other, she’d talked of other things, and Tone had followed Di’s line of we’ve met but we barely know each other with barely concealed relief.

Another memory resurfaced, searing Diana with a pain she’d forgotten she was capable of. Tone promising her the earth then abandoning her in her hour of need. No one had ever let her down that badly, and she’d sworn never would again.

Oh, God. Teflon Tone. Best Man. And she was Chief Bridesmaid. This was going to end up being the wedding from hell.

Ant sped along the motorway in a state of – what? Fury? That wasn’t quite the word. But agitation, certainly. Bloody hell. Fancy quiet little Josie having made friends with Dynamite Di. How the hell had that happened? How the hell had he not known? He’d only been out of the country for two years, and it seemed like everything had turned upside down in his absence. Bad enough that Harry had had to go sentimental on him, and decided to get married. But to have Dynamite Di as a bridesmaid? That was adding insult to injury. And he had to spend a weekend with her, being polite? Bloody Hell. Bloody Bloody Hell.

Mind you, there had been a time when he couldn’t get enough of her. Diana still remained one of the sexiest women he’d ever encountered, and he’d fallen for her in a way he’d never fallen for anyone before or since. But then it had disintegrated into a mess of bitterness and accusation. And the last time they’d met, she’d unceremoniously tipped a pint of beer over his head and called him a bastard of the finest order, in front of everyone they knew. He found out why much too late, and by then she wouldn’t see him, wouldn’t hear his side of the story. Ant couldn’t bear to admit to anyone how heartbroken he’d been about everything that had happened – only briefly telling Harry the details – so he’d buried those feelings deep, and sworn never to let a woman get that close again. He’d certainly never imagined meeting Diana again. And now here she was, larger than life, looking just as gorgeous as ever. And they had a whole weekend to get through.

He’d been thinking about it so much, Ant nearly missed the turning to Tresgothen, the village where Josie’s parents lived. He vaguely remembered the pretty little lane, with high hedges and scary bends, as he drove down it. Some time ago – a lifetime it seemed now – when they were still students, Josie had invited them all down here for a long weekend, and they’d had a fine boozy time of it, as he recalled. Josie’s parents had been away so they had the place to themselves, which at the time had been amazing. Josie’s parents were hugely wealthy and their house had been the height of luxury, even then. He’d brought a girl – he couldn’t remember who now – Kim? Kelly? He could barely recall her, but had vague and rather erotic memories of skinny dipping with her at midnight.

The place was bigger than he remembered: a beautiful oak-beamed house on three floors with pitched roofs and ivy growing up the side. To be this rich, Ant thought, as the car crunched across the enormous gravel drive, that really would be something. Josie, Harry and Diana were already getting out of Harry’s car, to be greeted by Josie’s mum, a tiny, older version of Josie, dressed in a cream linen dress and flat sandals.

‘Welcome, welcome,’ she said. ‘I see you’ve brought the lovely weather with you. I’ve put you in the annexe, as I thought you’d be more comfortable there.’

The annexe? Ant followed them in awe, for once silenced. The house had six bedrooms as he recalled it, and now they’d built an annexe? Maybe Harry had a point about this getting married lark. As an only child, Josie presumably stood to inherit the lot.

‘The annexe is for our guests,’ Josie’s mum was saying cheerfully, as she took them into the enormous hall, which had expensive looking rugs on the parquet flooring and a wide-panelled oak staircase. It was light and airy, a welcoming, rather than an intimidating space, the kind of hall Ant would like to have some day. ‘It’s so much nicer for people to have their privacy.’

Of course, thought Ant. The way she said it, was like this was normal. Ant immediately decided whatever else he did with his life, he wanted to end up with a property portfolio like Josie’s parents.

‘More like for Dad to have his,’ laughed Josie.

‘Did someone take my name in vain?’

Josie’s dad, an ambling six-foot academic-looking type, wandered in from an enormous room on the side, which looked like a lounge.

‘Dad!’ Josie shrieked and threw her arms around him.

‘Lovely to see you too, darling. Harry, good to see you again.’

He shook hands with Harry, who looked unaccountably nervous. Ant dimly recalled Harry saying how terrifying he found his future father-in-law.

‘Diana, always a pleasure,’ he continued, ‘and you must be the elusive Ant. Peter Hampton at your service.’ He looked him up and down appraisingly, with sharp blue eyes, which reminded him suddenly of Josie. For an instant, Ant felt sorry for Harry; great to be marrying into the money certainly, but despite the scatty professor persona Ant had a feeling Peter was a hard man to impress.

‘At your service,’ said Ant, then felt ridiculous. What a stupid thing to have said.

‘Are we eating outside, darling?’ said Peter, ‘as it’s such a beautiful day?’

‘I thought we would,’ said Nicola. ‘We don’t often get the opportunity, and it’s so lovely that you could all be here.’

She beamed cheerfully at them, and Ant tried to smile back, but suddenly he felt quite claustrophobic. He wasn’t good at families, this felt all too domestic and cosy for him. Surely it was time for the pub soon? Otherwise it was going to be a very long weekend …

‘You know there’s a local plan to revive the theatre, don’t you?’ Nicola said, ushering Harry and Josie straight into the dining room as soon as they’d deposited their bags, while she left Peter sorting out drinks for Ant and Diana on the patio. Harry looked after them longingly, even more so when he saw to his horror a huge array of wedding catalogues lying open on the magnificent mahogany dining table.

‘I hadn’t, no,’ said Josie.

‘Well, they might be hiring it out for weddings,’ said Nicola.