Chapter 19

Caroline spoke to her boys the following morning and Lawrence soon made his own arrangements with his dad and Angus' parents. John promised to book a Travelodge for the Friday night as a treat and drop him at Angus' house around midday on the Saturday, where he would spend the rest of the weekend. William had asked to stay home.

'And it's France? Just for the weekend?'

'Yes, mum. For the umpteenth time, I'll fly Friday evening and be home by late afternoon on the Sunday when I'll pick Lawrence up from his friend's house. Can I leave William here or not? That's all I need to know.' Celia had turned a simple conversation and request into something quite tedious and Caroline was becoming exasperated with her mother, which risked alienating her.

'I suppose that's ok. I'm not getting any younger you know.' Celia's tone and words made it obvious that she resented Caroline's plans.

'Neither is William and he doesn't need anything apart from knowing you're about. It would put my mind at rest knowing that you'll have each other for support. While William prefers not to spend time with his dad, John IS available for any emergencies.'

'And you say you're going to a wedding. It's a shame they didn't invite all of us. Who did you say was getting married?'

'I didn't. It's someone called Meg from my Oxford days.' Caroline deliberately dropped Meg's name into the conversation, to gauge if there was any hint of recognition from her mother.

'It's a shame she can't marry in Oxford then. Quite thoughtless, expecting people to travel all that way.' There was no change to her facial expression which was resolutely fixed in the extensive 'mardy' section of her repertoire.

'Oh mum. She's lives there now and is marrying someone who is French.'

'What, aren't there enough Englishmen about? Your dad couldn't stand the French.'

'Just as well he's not here to be invited then.' Caroline was feeling drained and although she was tempted to put Celia right about Meg's partner, she decided to leave that conversation for another day rather than ignite further antagonism.

'Alright. I guess we'll manage. You're always galivanting these days. I can't think of the last time that we went out together on a Saturday.'

Caroline felt a sudden pang of guilt as her mother's accusation hit home. She was spending so much time with Kate that it was bound to have an impact. While she made sure not to short-change the boys she had not considered protecting the time she spent with her mum, but still expected her to jump into help with William and Lawrence.

'You're right, mum. We haven't. I'll make sure we do so the Saturday after we get back from France.'

'I'll look forward to it although it comes to something when you have to make an appointment to spend time with your own daughter. Oh, you said "we".'

'Did I? Well, I'm waiting to see who else has been invited so I guess that was on my mind.'

The conversation moved on to the fact that window cleaner had let them down for the second month in a row and Caroline was happy to have this diversion, hoping to thwart Celia's legendary observational skills. For her part, Celia had not been deceived, knowing full well that she had not been given the whole truth of the matter. She determined to put the information away for analysis when she was alone, not for the first time wondering exactly where and with whom her daughter was spending so much time.

ooOoo

'Help me choose something to wear for the wedding,' Kate asked as Caroline arrived for a short visit one evening, four days before the big day. 'French women are so elegant without trying.'

'Don't beat yourself up about it, Kate. My plan is to wear something that will fit into the cabin bag but won't crease. I'm sure we'll give those mademoiselles a run for their money.'

'You could wear a potato sack and do that. Come upstairs and help me go through my wardrobe. I'll have to go shopping tomorrow if there isn't anything suitable or I'll be the one in a sack.'

Kate's concerns were soon put to rest and after seeing her try on several outfits Caroline steered her towards a close-fitting navy-blue dress, with a low neckline, teamed up with a cream pashmina and flat court shoes.

'You're beautiful, Kate. Stunning. The only downside is that I won't be able to keep my eyes off your cleavage.'

'I'm worried that I'll let you down and… yes, um, that.'

'And? Come on, what's up? Are you having a change of mind about going?'

Kate busied herself putting the dress back on its hanger before turning to face Caroline.

'I'm just having some nerves about meeting Meg. It's ridiculous but although I've given myself a good talking to, I'm stuck with this irrational fear that …... that….'

'That I'll compare you with Meg and you'll be found wanting. Come here.' Caroline sat on the edge of the bed and opened her arms to envelop a now tearful Kate.

'You loved her. I know you'll say that was years ago. I told you I was being irrational. I keep thinking that if it wasn't for your mum's intervention you'd still be with Meg and it would be you she was planning to marry,' she snivelled.

'Yes, I did love her, Kate, but you're right, it was years ago and, more importantly, it doesn't compare with being in love with you.' Her speech was clear and concise, leaving no doubt in Kate's mind what she had heard.

The tears stopped, and silence reigned. While Kate knew that theirs was not a casual fling, and that they cared deeply for each other, this was a totally unexpected and momentous declaration. Brown eyes sought blue, looking for any sign of regret and instead finding confirmation.

'What?' Caroline asked, seemingly bewildered.

'What you said. I'm just shocked.'

'Oh, is it too soon? I didn't want to scare you off, but it seemed that it needed to be said. Well, I thought you knew anyway.'

Kate's tears started up again and she exhaled deeply.

'I didn't know, not really. Just hoped, I guess, that you did because there's nothing better than to know the person you're in love with feels the same.'

ooOoo

William's phone vibrated, indicating an incoming text. He was in the middle of an English class and couldn't look immediately but assumed that it was from his Gran. A quick check at the end of the lesson confirmed his suspicion.

'William, please come to my flat this evening. I'm sure that you will be able to find an excuse if your mum is at home. This must remain a secret, William; do not forget. Love, Gran.'

He smiled broadly as he read. She had made progress, but she still signed off texts as if she was writing a letter, shunned abbreviations and insisted on correct punctuation. When their laptop lessons were finished he vowed to work on her phone technique.

'Hi Gran. I'm reporting for duty, as requested. What's the panic?' he called out when he called on her that evening.

'Are you on your own?' Celia asked as she walked through from her kitchen, looking around her lounge as if checking that there wasn't anyone hiding anywhere.

Stifling a giggle, he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

'Right, pull up a chair next to mine. I've something to show you.'

He watched as his grandmother turned on her laptop and navigated around until she found what she was looking for.

'It's called a friend's request, Gran. You can decide if you want to accept or not. Do you know who it is?'

'Yes, I went to school with her. We didn't keep in touch when I moved to Sheffield so I don't know why she'd want to be my friend now, but it might be interesting to see how she's spent the last sixty years.'

'Accept her then. I'll watch while you do it. Did you search to see if Alan has a Facebook account? You said you were going to when I was here at the weekend. I thought that might be why you wanted my help.'

'No. I didn't in the end.'

'Why did you change your mind?'

His Gran busied herself with accepting Doreen's friend request while studiously ignored his question.

'Gran?' He felt sure he saw a hint of a blush on her cheeks. 'You did, didn't you?'

She nodded, and the rosy hue deepened.

'I found him, William. I'm sure there can't be two Alan Buttershaws from Elland. It's not as if he's called John Smith.'

'Shame he's not, Gran. He might be related to the John Smith brewery and be worth a fortune! So?'

'I'll show you.' She slowly found what she was searching for and sat back in her seat, looking pensive. 'That's him. I'm sure.'

'I haven't spent all my time showing you how to use your computer and to set you up on Facebook for you to be satisfied with looking at a picture. I'm going home now. I'll leave you to decide whether to pluck up the courage to make contact or spend even more years wondering. Your choice.' He kissed the top of her head. 'Night, Gran. Remember what you said about added risk taking.' He sauntered back home with his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

ooOoo

Caroline and Kate looked at the depressing news on the screen in front of them. Their flight was showing up as having an unspecified delay and there was nothing they could do but wait. They had already had a meal and wine after checking in.

'Do you want a coffee now we've got all this time?' Kate asked.

'No, not for me, Kate. You?'

'Nothing, thanks.'

Finding two seats together in front of a departure board, they settled down for however long it would take. Fortunately they only had a short journey to an airport hotel when they arrived at Tours. They were meeting up with other guests the following morning to share a mini-bus for the last leg of the journey. The time ticked by but eventually at least there was clarification, about an hour to wait. It had been a long day and a busy week and after a while Kate's head began to drop. Nestling onto Caroline's shoulder she reached across to squeeze her hand.

'Wake me if I snore or if the flight gets called,' she joked.

'Actually, Kate, I think I will get another drink. Do you want to wait here with the bags? I won't be long.' She picked up her handbag and threaded her way through the crowds, leaving Kate somewhat bewildered.

Kate was just becoming slightly concerned at the length of time Caroline had been away when she returned to her seat with a Costa coffee and a bottle of water.

'Anything changed?' she questioned while looking towards the board. 'Oh, that's good, they've brought it forward a little. Not long now.'

'Caroline, are you ok? You seem a little, I don't know, agitated.'

'Not a fan of flying, Kate, to be honest. The wait isn't doing me any favours.'

'I didn't realise. I'm not a fan either but I've had to get used to it, with my mum being in America, but I agree, the wait doesn't help.'

Their flight was called soon afterwards. Kate couldn't help but notice that Caroline left her untouched coffee cup underneath the seats when they made their way to the departure gate. The rest of the journey passed without incident and within forty-five minutes of landing they were at the hotel reception desk. Although Caroline had made the arrangements it was agreed that Kate would use her vastly superior French to book them in. Caroline's understanding was limited to the odd word and she was surprised at the length of the conversation and what, at first, seemed to be a disagreement between Kate and the receptionist. But the difficulties soon seemed to be resolved as they shared a joke and the key was handed over in good humour. It wasn't until they were in the lift on the way to their fourth-floor room that Kate explained what had happened.

'They had the booking wrong. We'd been allocated a twin-bedded room and they insisted that's what was booked but I persuaded them that they were wrong. Anyway, we've now been given a double. I told the receptionist that we didn't want to squeeze into a single bed, however much fun that might have been!'