Finding Grace(5)

The horses circled again, and this time as Grace passed us, she turned slightly, her face animated with joy. The energy and passion for her beloved riding buzzed around her like an aura as she paraded in front of us, her friends and family.

A delicious sweet scent distracted me, and when I turned around, I saw that Blake was standing there holding up two steaming mugs of hot chocolate like trophies.

‘There we go. And before you ask’ – he extended one towards me, his soft brown eyes twinkling with mischief – ‘I didn’t put any marshmallows in yours, so there are hardly any calories in it.’

I grinned and accepted the mug gratefully. I didn’t mention that I’d seen the owner of the stables making the hot chocolate with full-cream Jersey milk before we went outside. I was probably about to consume an entire day’s points in the next few minutes, but after the first tiny sip, I knew it was going to be worth it.

I’d joined an online slimming club a couple of months ago. Apart from the odd blip, I’d managed to stick to my diet, and to date, I’d lost nearly a stone. Blake had been really supportive, as he knew how steadily piling on weight over the last few years had badly affected my already flaky self-confidence.

Over the past months, I’d watched as Blake became more and more absorbed in his work. When we were invited to a black-tie ball at the Council House after Christmas, I felt a bit nervous, as I didn’t know anyone there. If I’m honest, I thought about making an excuse.

‘It doesn’t matter that you won’t know anyone.’ Blake had swiftly dismissed my fears. ‘I’ll introduce you to everyone, and besides, I want them all to meet my amazing wife. You have to come. No excuses.’

I’d expected low-key, but when we got there, I’d been surprised how much effort the other female guests had put into their dresses, make-up and hair.

I’d been forced to buy a new dress because I simply couldn’t comfortably fit into the two or three cocktail dresses I’d bought a few years ago, when I had evening corporate events of my own to go to at The Carlton. They were still hanging in the depths of the wardrobe, because I insisted on kidding myself that one day I’d get back into them.

We’d just about scraped by for money the last few months. There was hardly anything going spare while Blake was investing in his political career, as he put it. Certainly no money allocated for a spending spree on a fancy new dress I’d probably only wear once or twice.

I ended up ordering one in a bigger size than I’d have preferred, from an online clothing catalogue. More than I wanted to pay, but still. I opened an account to spread the cost over a few months.

It didn’t make any difference; I still felt utterly crap at the ball. When the dress arrived a day before the event, I could just about do the zip up, but it was very much on the snug side. I felt shocked. Since Oscar’s birth, my at-home uniform had consisted mainly of stretchy leggings and tunic tops, which I jazzed up a bit with costume jewellery and high heels on the rare occasion we went out socially.

Somehow, an additional few extra pounds had crept on over Christmas without me even noticing.

I’d done my hair and make-up myself for the ball to save cash, although it was painfully obvious that most of the other women had pulled out all the stops to look fabulous. Worst of all, they gravitated to Blake like bees to a honey pot.

He kept pulling me into his conversations – ‘Meet my lovely wife, Lucie’ – and they’d smile and say hello, but I couldn’t miss the disapproving sweep of their sooty false lashes, taking in my unvarnished toenails, my mismatched handbag and the way the front of my new dress pulled unflatteringly around my tummy.

How come a man like Blake Sullivan has such a dreary wife? How has such a frump bagged a catch like him?

I swear I could hear their judgemental thoughts as if they’d actually said them out loud.

To be fair, I never saw Blake eyeing anyone up or flirting. Not once. He behaved impeccably, never left me on my own at all, but I still felt all chewed up inside.

I didn’t say anything when we got home that night, but I sort of made a pact with myself to get back on track with a healthier lifestyle. Blake was working hard for all of us, and he was only human. If I didn’t make myself a better prospect, how long might it be before his head was turned?

I returned my attention to family and friends who were clustered around the riding practice field, chatting amongst themselves and waving to the girls as they trotted past.

As I surveyed all the bright, happy faces, a solitary figure standing near the riding school office caught my eye.

I nudged Blake discreetly. ‘Isn’t that Jeff over there, from next door?’

‘Looks like him, yeah,’ Blake agreed quickly before looking away. ‘Fancy a bit of lunch tomorrow when Grace is out?’

I narrowed my eyes, instantly suspicious at his manner.

‘Don’t tell me you invited him here today?’

‘No!’ Blake frowned. ‘Well, not exactly…’

He was a terrible liar. ‘Oh Blake!’

‘I didn’t invite him to the party, OK? I happened to mention we were coming here, and he said he used to love horse riding when he was younger and he’d often wondered what it was like here…’

‘Save it, Blake. You basically invited him.’

He hung his head bashfully. ‘I didn’t see any harm in it, Luce. Sorry. I told him to come and have a piece of birthday cake with us, that’s all.’