Fern Britton Summer Collection: New Beginnings, Hidden Treasures, The Holiday Home, The Stolen Weekend. Fern Britton

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СКАЧАТЬ list that was second to none, sharing the responsibilities with his new wife.’

      ‘So what happened? Why aren’t they still together?’

      ‘Two reasons, I guess. One: Julia’s a ruthless, bitchy workaholic who takes all the credit she can – you must have picked up on that by now? And two: a leopard never changes its spots, so Max went off with his latest assistant. Lucy was young enough to give him the family he wanted. Such a scandal at the time.’

      Christie could see how much Frank must have enjoyed it.

      ‘They said Julia refused to have kids because they’d get in the way of her career.’ He paused as their food was put in front of them, not wanting to the waitress to overhear. After he’d had a couple of mouthfuls, he continued, ‘Against all expectations, instead of collapsing under the pressure of such a public divorce, Julia set up White Management in direct competition with Max. If it hadn’t been too confusing I bet she’d have used his name. She hung on to it for herself, though. Nothing like success by association.’

      ‘And then?’

      ‘Only if we have another glass! Shiraz this time, I think. Your turn.’

      Christie edged out and made her way round a group of shrieking women sporting sparkling antennae and pink T-shirts bearing the words ‘Em’s Hens On Tour’. But her mind stayed with what Frank had been telling her. Remembering Julia’s elegance and style, it was impossible for Christie to imagine Max and her as an item. He was so much shorter, so relaxed, and with more of the frog about him than the prince.

      Suddenly one of the ‘hens’ grabbed her arm. ‘Aren’t you Christie Lynch?’

      She shook her arm free, surprised. ‘Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you.’

      ‘I watch that news show every night.’ Christie could smell the alcohol on her breath. ‘Janey! Got your mobile? You don’t mind, do you?’

      Before Christie had a chance to answer, the woman had engineered herself so they were side by side and her friend was taking a picture of them together. ‘Thanks ever so much. The kids’ll be thrilled. They love Sam.’ With that she turned back to her crew and left a disconcerted Christie to make her way to the bar. Although no one else approached her, she was aware that one or two people were staring at her. The unexpected attention had been quite harmless but made her feel uncomfortable. Recognition was one thing, being accosted quite another. But if the fans of the show were all like that, she had nothing too serious to worry about.

      When she returned to the table, Frank and Mel were examining the two necklaces they had insisted she buy, one chunky, one sparkly. ‘Now you’re kitted out for every occasion,’ Mel said. Christie popped them into their bag and, taking her glass, nodded for Frank to go on with his story.

      ‘Julia was livid – there’s no woman like Julia when she’s scorned, I can tell you. She’d already built up a reputation that provoked envy, resentment, admiration, you name it. But without Max’s good influence, she lured clients from other agents – most often from him, of course – promising to double or treble their income. And, more often than not, she did. That’s how to get an impressive list.’

      ‘That’s good, though, isn’t it? All’s fair in love and business?’ Christie wasn’t much enjoying the picture Frank was painting of her agent. If only she’d done some background research first, as Richard had suggested, like the well-trained journalist she was meant to be.

      He took a sip and savoured the red wine. ‘Well, her business tactics weren’t exactly applauded but she got ten out of ten for chutzpah. What matters to her is where and how to get top dollar.’

      ‘What about Ben Chapman?’

      His face saddened. ‘He was a mate of mine. Great guy. God only knows what happened to him that night or what he was doing in the pool.’ He looked at his watch. ‘That’s for another time, though. Too depressing. Right now, I want to know more about you two girls.’

      As they finished their meal, Christie told him about her career, Nick and the kids, then Mel talked about her glam but single life. Finally it was their turn to quiz him.

      ‘There’s not much to tell,’ he said. ‘I’m just an old queen who wanted a bit of glamour in his life. I was destined to be the next Tom Hanks, but a little smaller, fatter and gayer, and I ended up a cameraman at TV7.’ He ran a hand over his tightly shaved head and Christie couldn’t help thinking that he looked as if he’d polished himself before coming out. He was so shiny and smart, as if he’d just come out of the box – never mind the closet. For the next few minutes they encouraged him to tell them more about his life, but while he was happy to talk about others, he was surprisingly reticent about revealing too much about himself. Christie was content to wait until another time when she suspected he’d be more forthcoming. He needed to know that he could trust her. She loved his camp flamboyance, his outspokenness and, most of all, the generosity he’d shown her. She felt that of all the people she’d met on the show so far, he was the one she could trust: a brand new friend. She, Mel and Frank were like the Three Musketeers.

      *

      That night, with Maureen ensconced downstairs on babysitting duty, Christie showered, shaved her legs and painted her toenails, then pulled almost everything she owned out of her wardrobe to find something suitable for her date with Richard. She wanted to look her best but not as if she’d tried too hard. Whatever she wore had to be right. Her bedroom was more like Mel’s by the time she had settled on her flounced long skirt, sleeveless T-shirt and tunic top, with the wide woven leather belt and chunky necklace she’d bought that morning. She knew Mel would have had a thousand fits over her boho sister, but she felt comfortable.

      When she went downstairs, Maureen looked up from the magazine she was reading and gave her a long hard stare.

      ‘What, Christine, is the point of asking me over so you can go shopping and then not wearing anything you bought?’

      ‘Oh, Mum. That’s different. I was shopping for work. I’d look a complete prat if I turned up in the pub dressed in that stuff. Trust me.’

      But Maureen remained unconvinced, despite grudgingly admitting that she supposed what Christie had on was better than her usual jeans. She felt more confident when Fred and Libby gave her their half-hearted approval, tearing their attention from the TV for a nano-second. At least when Richard arrived, she thought she noticed his eyes widen with appreciation. As did hers. His checked Viyella working shirt had been replaced by a soft pink linen one that showed off his tan. She loved the fact that it wasn’t perfectly ironed, although he’d obviously had a damned good go. His jeans were clean, and instead of his usual walking boots, he was wearing brogues, shiny with polish. She breathed in and caught the slight scent of aftershave

      As he opened the door of the Land Rover, Richard apologised for its state, took out some muddy boots from the passenger side and flung them into the back. The smell of wet dog and dog blanket enveloped her as she climbed in. A lumberjack jacket lay on the back seat among sweet wrappers and Ordnance Survey maps; a compass jiggled on the dashboard. Her nerves settled as she sat beside him, hearing about Fred and Olly’s frustrated attempts to train Jigger to climb a ladder. When they reached the pub, and were crunching over the gravel to the front door, Richard automatically put out his hand for her to hold. She took it, registering its roughness and strength, liking the unaffectedness of his gesture. Inside, the Oak and Archer had been reinvented as a gastro-pub, with none of its more traditional clientele to be seen.

      ‘Give me the old farmers and СКАЧАТЬ