Troughton-Warbridge-Hays, Max’s first wife, the woman who had left Max with that whipped-puppy look. The wife who he had married when they were both too young and who he had loved with all his heart. The wife whose photograph still hung in his office even after all these years.
When Jess had pointed it out Max had blushed furiously and taken it down. ‘Sorry – you know I didn’t even notice it was there,’ he’d said, sliding it into a drawer. Lucy Troughton-Warbridge-Hays, the wife who had run off with his best friend and best man Stephen, who between them had broken his heart and ensured that Max Peters had been a career bachelor – up until now. Jess couldn’t help wonder what it was that had changed his mind. Was it that finally at forty he thought it was time that he settled down? Time to put down roots and have a family? Did he see Jess as someone special, the kind of woman he could trust and wanted to spend the rest of his life with? Surely the answer had to be yes? The thought made her feel warm and fluttery inside.
Jess looked up into his big dark eyes. ‘Do you love me, Max?’
He smiled and kissed the end of her nose. ‘What do you think?’
‘And you will help with the wedding, won’t you?’
‘Of course I will,’ Max said, and rolled back the duvet. ‘But I’ve already told you that I’m not great at that kind of stuff.’ He sounded offhand and casual, but Jess needed him to be keen, eager, and enthusiastic – and told him so.
Max, feet on the floor now, sighed. ‘I am, Jess, sweetheart, and I trust your judgement. Absolutely. After all, you’ve agreed to be my wife, haven’t you? Just shows you’ve got great judgement and the most fantastic taste.’
Jess laughed and threw a pillow at him.
And then Max got out of bed and pulled on a robe. ‘Besides,’ he said, ‘it’s no big deal.’
Jess was about to protest when Max leaned over and held a finger to her lips and then, leaning closer still, kissed her briefly. ‘Poor choice of words. What I meant was, it will all get sorted out. You have to understand I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment, with the McKeeley project and Jacobson going live in the spring as well as all the usual crap. It’s going to be a busy few months.’
Jess stared at him, wondering whether it was meant as a joke. ‘Well, if you’re that busy maybe we ought to wait – I mean, I don’t mind waiting.’
‘Well, I do,’ said Max emphatically. ‘In my line of work you can never guarantee what the schedule is going to be. We’ve just got to seize the moment.’ Laughing, he made a tickling, nipping lunge at her which made Jess shriek and giggle, then stood over her, hands flat on the mattress, pinning her down. It was a dominant, manly, sexy gesture that made her skin tingle all over.
‘If you wanted to seize the moment maybe we should just slip away – do something romantic, drive to Scotland, get married at Gretna. I’m sure Mum and Dad would understand, ’ said Jess. ‘Just the two of us. Drag two people in off the street to be our witnesses.’
Max’s expression softened into something that made Jess’s heart melt. ‘But I don’t want us to slip away, Jess – I want everyone to see us. I want us to have the most wonderful, perfect day with all our family and friends. I want everyone to see how beautiful you are, to say, “Wow, don’t they make the most stunning couple”. I want it to be just perfect. And it will be.’
‘Oh, Max.’ Jess felt her eyes filling with tears.
‘And I’m sure your mum wouldn’t want us running off and getting hitched without any fuss,’ Max said, pushing himself back upright. ‘I’ll let the dog out and then I thought as we were up we might as well drive out to Exmoor – take Bassa for a bit of a hike and then see if we can find a nice pub somewhere. Unless you want to cook?’
‘It’s still raining,’ protested Jess.
Max laughed. ‘You won’t melt. Come on, the fresh air will do us both good. We ought to make the most of it while we’re down here. I don’t know when I’ll be able to take any more time off before the wedding.’
Wordlessly Jess got out of bed and pulled on her jeans. Actually Max was probably right, the fresh air would help clear her head. When she checked her phone there was a message from Molly. She tried to ring back but Molly had her phone on voicemail.
‘Hi, Mum. I’ve got loads to tell you and talk about, but the signal down here isn’t great. How about we come round on Saturday and we can catch up then? Love you.’ And then, still smiling, Jess hung up. She hurried downstairs, excitement drowning out the little niggling worries she had about Max.
‘Where’s Max? Couldn’t he make it?’ asked Molly, looking out into the porch through the open kitchen door. She was just sliding a batch of homemade bread out of the oven. It smelt wonderful. It was first thing on Saturday morning and making bread was Molly’s idea of relaxing after a long and busy week.
Jess, in a summer dress over leggings, bundled into the kitchen holding her coat above her head, dripping water all over the flagstone floor. Bassa, her supersized Jack Russell-mongrel-mix followed hard on her heels, tail wagging enthusiastically.
‘No, he’s had to work this weekend. We only got back late last night and he needed to get back on site. The company he’s working for are putting in some kind of new system in their new offices and he’s got to be there – that’s why we grabbed a few days away, while we could. I can see that I’m going to be an IT widow. God, that bread smells wonderful, are we having it for lunch?’
Molly nodded. ‘Uh-huh, and there’s homemade hummus, some tomatoes out of the garden, some cheese and a ham Nick boiled last night. Okay?’
‘Oh God, yes,’ Jess purred as she dumped the coat over a chair and then let Molly fold her into her arms.
‘Congratulations,’ said Molly, voice crackling with unexpected emotion as she pulled back to look Jess up and down. ‘I can’t believe my baby is getting married. Seems only a few months ago we were at the zoo feeding the llamas.’
Jess grinned. ‘It was only few months ago, Mum, remember? We went to do some sort of promo with the radio station?’
‘You know what I mean.’
Jess nodded. ‘It’s so nice to be home,’ she said in a little voice. ‘This week has been completely and utterly crazy. And it was really hard to talk on the mobile – I didn’t want to do all that “Can you hear me? You’re cracking up” thing –’
‘It’s fine and you’re here now, so I want to hear all about it.’
Behind them Bassa did a wet-dog shimmy and shake, covering everyone and everything with a fine spray of mongrel-scented water. Molly’s dog, Milo, a huge English mastiff, lifted his head to check out the new arrivals from the comfort of his basket by the Aga and then celebrated the fact they weren’t burglars by closing his eyes and letting out a loud snore. Bassa made a beeline for Milo’s biscuits while Molly indicated they should sit.
‘I’m so, so glad you’re here. We’ve got pink champagne on standby in the fridge – I was hoping that Max would be here too so we could share it while we have a chat about what you want to do about the wedding.’ Molly struggled to hold back the unexpected flurry of tears that threatened.
Jess grinned. ‘Oh, come on, we don’t have to wait for Max, do we? Do you want to open it or shall I?’
Molly rubbed away a stray tear. ‘First thing you need to learn about men is that they need to feel useful to feel loved,’ and with that she turned and shouted, ‘Nick? Jess is here, darling. We need a real man to come and open the champagne.’
And from somewhere deep in the cottage they both heard Nick laugh. ‘I’m on my way,’ he called.