This Could Change Everything(100)

Zillah took out her phone. ‘Well, it’d be weird if he wasn’t, because he sent me the most amazing arrangement of tropical lilies yesterday.’

‘Oh.’ Overwhelmed, Alice’s thin fingers fluttered to her chest. ‘Why would Jessica have said that if it wasn’t true?’

Having googled the name, Zillah pulled a face. ‘Ah. It says here that Jessica Hurd-Stockton died last year.’ She scanned the obituary notice rapidly. ‘She’d been suffering from dementia.’

Alice nodded. ‘Poor woman. That explains the pigeons. Goodness, I can’t believe Matthew’s still alive. Where does he live?’

‘Berkshire. He’s turned into quite the golf fiend in recent years. From the sound of things, he practically lives at his local club. But it keeps him active, so why not, if that’s what he enjoys.’ A glimmer of an idea was forming in her brain now, prompted by the look in Alice’s eyes. Casually, Zillah said, ‘You know, if I told him you were here, I bet he’d love to come and see you.’

Alice stared at her. ‘Oh, surely not. He wouldn’t want to. I mean, why would he?’

‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. And trust me,’ said Zillah, ‘he definitely would. We were chatting a few years ago and he was wondering how your life had gone. He loved you, Alice. I know he broke your heart, but he never stopped caring about you. And he’s such a lovely man . . .’

They sat in silence for several seconds. Alice rolled the edge of the sheet between her fingers as she gave the matter some thought. Finally she said, ‘Well, I might not be able to get to the ballet, but I can manage sitting up in bed to receive a visitor. And if I’m being granted a wish, I can’t think of anything I’d love more than seeing Matthew again. It’d just be the most perfect present . . . if you really and truly think he wouldn’t mind.’

‘He’d be delighted,’ Zillah reassured her. ‘He’ll be out on the golf course now, but I’m going to call him tonight. You just leave everything to me.’





Chapter 48


It was Sunday night at the Red House. A man had just come up to Conor and thanked him for changing his life for the better.

‘Really?’ Conor was intrigued. ‘How did I manage that?’

‘My wife left me six months ago. I was so down, I couldn’t see any point in carrying on.’ The man, in his forties, was large and shaven-headed, with multiple tattoos. ‘I came in here one night and saw one of the photos you’d taken. It was over there.’ He pointed to a spot on the wall beside the fireplace. ‘It was a photo of a bloke in Victoria Park, rolling on the ground with his dog, and there were autumn leaves all over the grass and the bloke and his dog just looked so happy together . . . Swear to God, I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Reckon I must’ve stared at them for a good couple of hours.’

‘I remember it.’ Conor nodded; of course he remembered the photo. Everyone had been charmed by the evident bond between the man and his beloved pet.

‘So the next day I went up the dogs’ home and found Bertie.’ The man indicated the small, bright-eyed black mongrel sitting at his feet. ‘And it’s all thanks to you that I did. He’s the best thing that could have happened to me and he’s made life worth living again. I couldn’t be without him now . . . well, we wouldn’t want to be without each other. So we just wanted to come and say thank you.’

Conor was touched beyond belief. ‘That’s fantastic, I’m so pleased. And now I need to take some photos of the two of you. Who knows, maybe someone else will see them and be inspired to get a dog as well.’

The man lifted Bertie into his arms, beaming with love and pride as the dog licked his tattooed ear, and Conor took a dozen or so shots. As he was finishing, the back of his neck began to prickle and he sensed he was being watched.

When the man had left, Conor turned and saw Caz leaning against the bar, wearing her turquoise snakeskin-print jacket and more mascara than all the Kardashians put together.

And crimson over-the-knee stiletto-heeled boots.

Oh God, what was about to happen? If she was here to have a furious row with him for finishing with Belinda, how should he handle it?

He mentally braced himself. This could be embarrassing. No one enjoyed a shouty showdown more than Caz.

‘I need to speak to you,’ she said evenly. ‘Shall we go outside?’

Which instantly made him think going outside could be a bad idea.

‘We can talk in here.’ Hopefully this would give him the upper hand. Scarlett, who was still working behind the bar so that Essie could stay at home with Zillah, was observing the exchange with interest. Putting his camera down on the bar, Conor said, ‘What’s this about?’

As if he didn’t know.

Caz lifted her chin. ‘I want to know what happened between you and Belinda.’

‘I don’t think that’s any of your business, is it?’

She bristled visibly. ‘I think it is. Belinda’s my friend.’

‘I don’t care.’ Conor spread his hands. ‘It’s private, between us.’

‘Is it, though?’

Oh God, talk about persistent. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I’m here to ask you why you finished with her,’ Caz said tightly, ‘and I need to know the truth. Was it because of me?’