The Surprise Party

In the grounds of the stately home, Fleur, who was hurrying along one of the gravelled side avenues, glanced back over her shoulder to see if Rose had had a fit of conscience and decided to come with her after all. When she saw nothing, and was out of sight, Fleur sank gratefully onto a stone bench beside a bubbling rill. She wondered if anyone would complain if she slipped off her shoes and stuck her tired, aching feet in the glittering tumbling water.

The irony of today’s day trip wasn’t lost on Fleur. Ill-named, Fleur loathed everything to do with gardening and flowers – although it wasn’t just that that was worming away at her. Being a confirmed singleton, there was something rather grisly about being asked to help celebrate forty years of someone else’s happy marriage. Talk about rubbing it in.

Fleur opened her handbag, took out her cigarettes and lit up – her last guilty pleasure. She blew out a long plume of smoke into the warm afternoon air and contemplated the present turn of events.

Forty years; it seemed impossible that it had been forty years ago since her little sister Rose’s wedding. She remembered it as if it had been yesterday. She had been chief bridesmaid in a blue and white Laura Ashley print dress with puff sleeves and a floppy hat. After the wedding, a few hours after the happy couple had driven off for their week’s honeymoon in Devon, Fleur had boarded a train to Heathrow to catch a flight to Australia.

Although Fleur had never said anything to anyone else, Rose getting married to Jack had been one of the factors that had finally convinced her to take the job in Australia.

Her little sister Rose had always seemed to have life so easy. Whereas Fleur was big and clumsy, Rose had always been petite and pretty, with those great big blue eyes and a mass of curls. Unlike Fleur, who had a gift for telling it as it was, Rose was more circumspect about what she said and how she said it. Rose had always been sweet and obliging, always laughing and kind, the apple of her parents’ and everyone else’s eye.

While Fleur had had to struggle every step of the way and work like a dog to succeed, things just seemed to drop into Rose’s lap. It all felt so unfair and it was difficult – even though she loved Rose with all her heart – not to be envious.

So while Fleur had slaved away at college, and spent all her money on books and cookery courses, no one had been at all surprised that it was Rose who managed to bag Jack, tall, dark, handsome Jack. Jack who owned his own business, Jack with money and prospects, a house of his own and a car.

Fleur sniffed; prospects – what an old-fashioned idea that was. While she had been working her fingers to the bone, no one would ever had said Fleur had prospects.

Fleur had studied and worked all the hours that God sent, taking poorly-paid jobs in good kitchens, and made herself comfortable up there on the shelf. Rose made jewellery and painted things and sold hand-decorated bowls of bulbs on a market stall, and always got on with her parents, while Fleur didn’t. Sadly, they were both gone now, which meant that she had never had a chance to heal all those rucks and scrapes and scratches that they’d had over the years. She had known deep down that they were proud of her, always pleased to see her when she came home, but there was a part of her that always believed they were even more pleased when she left.

Oh yes, Rose was most definitely their blue-eyed girl, but even so Fleur was expecting – hoping – that, when she announced she was considering going to Australia to take a job managing a restaurant, there would be someone in the family who would beg her to reconsider, tell her not to go, tell her it was a step too far, that they wanted her to stay. But – all caught up in plans for Rose’s wedding – no one had raised a single word of protest, not a single solitary word. Looking back at her younger self, Fleur knew she had come across as independent and bolshie, and that the lack of attention her family had showed was a matter of poor timing, not indifference. Nevertheless, even after all these years, it still hurt.

Fleur backhanded away an unexpected flurry of tears. They had let her leave, just like that, all those years ago when she had wanted everyone to tell her to stay, wanted them to tell her that they loved her too much to let her go. They had said nothing.

But pride is a strange thing. When no one had spoken up, Fleur had gone to work in a diner in Sydney, cutting off her nose to spite her face. Forty years on, she had ended up in Queensland, single, successful and still – despite plenty of relationships along the way – all alone, a wealthy woman with a chain of restaurants and enough money to do more or less anything she wanted. If only she could decide exactly what that was.

Forty years. Fleur sniffed back a fresh crop of tears. Where had all the time gone? And here were Rose and Jack, still up there in the spotlight with their perfect bloody marriage.

And now, just when she thought it was over, Fleur had finally met someone, Frank. Not that she had told Jack or Rose – or anyone else come to that. The trouble with relationships was all that love nonsense didn’t get any easier as you got older.

They’d been seeing each other for months now but she still couldn’t work out how he felt. What if he didn’t care after all? When she’d mentioned the idea that he might come with her to England he’d said he couldn’t get away.

‘Well okay, that’s fine,’ she had snapped. ‘Maybe that’s a good thing. It wasn’t going anywhere anyway, was it?’

And with that Fleur had left Frank sitting in the restaurant with his coffee, her dessert and the bill, and not so much as a backward glance.

She stubbed out her cigarette in an ornamental urn. God, there were times when she wished she had learnt how to keep her mouth shut.

*

Back at Jack and Rose’s house, Suzie was heading for the car.

‘Where the hell are you going now?’ shouted Sam, hurrying to catch up with her.

‘I’m going home to get changed and so are you. If anyone wants anything, just tell them to talk to Lady Bloody Bountiful upstairs.’

Sam stalled and came to a halt. ‘So now what’s happened?’ he said.

‘What do you mean “So now what’s happened”? You make it sound like I’m about three. I just want to nip home and get changed out of my jeans and put something nice on and Liz is upstairs being her usual self. When I asked her to come down and help she told me to go. Apparently you can manage without me.’

‘I can?’ said Sam, looking confused.

‘Not just you – everyone. I’m not indispensable, you know.’

‘Is that what she said? Oh come on, Suzie, you’re over-reacting.’

‘Oh right, so take her side why don’t you? I’m over-reacting? Oh, so it’s my fault that Liz is a lazy, selfish, spoilt, self-centred . . .’ Suzie ran out of air and words. ‘You know what she’s like. She thinks the whole world revolves around her. She drives me mad.’

Sam raised his eyebrows and, for the first time in weeks, laughed. ‘You don’t say.’

‘It’s not funny. She said that everything would be just fine here without me, without us.’

‘She’s probably right – come on, let’s go.’

Suzie stared at him. ‘But we can’t do that, you know she won’t do a thing. She’ll be upstairs painting her face and doing her hair and not taking a blind bit of notice of what’s going on out here. After all the planning and arranging and trying to keep it all secret that we’ve been through I want everything to be perfect—’

‘And it will be. I’ll go and pin a notice up on the marquee to say Liz is in charge and inside, and let everyone else know that if they’ve got any queries they just ask Liz. Oh and I’ll fetch Megan while I’m at it and leave a message with Matt just in case Hannah shows up. It’ll be fine.’

‘How will it be fine?’ Suzie protested.

‘Because when it comes down to it, these things always are. Why don’t you go and get the car. I’ll only be a couple of minutes.’

Suzie watched him go. He was right of course. They’d hired good people, and had already done most of the donkeywork themselves – the whole thing wouldn’t crumble and fail if they took half an hour out. Would it?

The trouble was that Suzie couldn’t help thinking that if they were going home, there really ought to be someone in charge. She had wanted to hand the baton over, not have it thrown back in her face. Liz always had a knack of getting out of things, as well as getting under her skin. Although Suzie had no doubt at all that when it came to handing out medals for who did the most on the day, Liz would be right up there, elbowing her way to the front to take the applause.

By the time Suzie had unlocked the car and moved a pile of boxes and bags off the seats, Sam was hurrying back across the grass.

‘Okay, let’s hit the road. I’ve told everyone that if they want anything Liz is in the house, and Megan said she wants to stay and get the rest of the tables done. I said we’d bring her dress and shoes back with us. Okay?’

Suzie was about to protest and then nodded. ‘Okay.’

Sam looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘Okay? Really? You’re not going to say it can’t be done, and that we can’t go and that we should hang around until Madam decides to put in an appearance?’

‘I’m not really like that, am I? Liz said that I was a control freak.’

Sam tipped his head to one side. ‘If the cap fits. You know as well as I do that someone’s got to take charge of things and you’re just naturally good at it. If that’s control freakery – who cares?’

Suzie glared at him and then gave in and sighed, ‘Actually you’re right and to be perfectly honest I’m way too knackered to argue. I just want to get home, grab a shower, have a cup of tea and put my frock on. Although at this rate I’m going to be too tired to enjoy the party.’

‘You’ll be fine,’ Sam said, which Suzie realised was pretty much his answer to everything.

*

‘Just how much longer do you think Fleur’s going to be?’ said Rose, peering off into the middle distance beyond the topiary arches and the rose beds and the great borders of perennials and expertly trimmed shrubs. ‘She’s been gone ages. I want to have a shower and get changed before we go out to dinner. What time did she say Liz had booked the table for?’

Jack glanced at his watch. ‘Seven, I think. I’m sure Fleur won’t be much longer. I mean how long does it take to look around a ruin? Maybe we should go and look for her?’

Chapter Seven