champagne on Freddie’s head, and then went back to sit with the cast and crew of
Sail for the Sun
and bask in their adulation.
She had her crown. She had her victory. So why did it feel so hollow?
Chapter Seven
Diana was at the Standing Stones. She was standing, staring out to sea, the wind blowing through her hair. The sun was going down and the cliff was alive with burnished gold.
She heard someone call her name, and turning, she thought she saw Ant coming towards her, before the figure dissolved into Tatiana Okeby, saying, ‘What angel wakes me from my flowery bed …’
‘Rise and shine!’ Josie came bounding into Diana’s room ridiculously early for a Saturday, particularly one when they were away for the weekend.
‘What time is it?’ Diana came slowly to.
‘Nine a.m., sleepyhead, I’ve been up for hours,’ said Josie. Although she seemed bright and breezy, Diana thought she could detect a note of something else, as though Josie was determined to put on a show. An uncomfortable feeling of guilt shot through her. Josie hadn’t said anything, but Diana saw how it could have looked, her and Harry coming up the garden like that. But he’d sworn her to secrecy about his smoking, and she felt it wasn’t her secret to share with Josie.
‘Come on, time to get out and at ’em. We’re going to Penzance to do some serious dress shopping.’
‘Ugh,’ said Diana, pulling the duvet back. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe Josie hadn’t been affected by last night.
‘I’m a woman on a mission,’ said Josie.
‘I can see that,’ grumbled Diana, but she got out of bed. Her throat was sore from smoking too much, her mouth tasted sour and her head was thumping. Drinking always seemed like a good idea at the time.
Half an hour later, she, Nicola and Josie were having breakfast. There was no sign of the boys.
‘Sleeping off their hangovers, bless them,’ smiled Nicola, as if she were talking about children. Diana noticed Josie give a little wince of annoyance. Diana didn’t blame her. Nicola was so meek and mild it made Diana really impatient. She hoped that Josie wasn’t cast in the same mould, and wouldn’t turn into a carbon copy of her mum once she was settled down with Harry. Di thought her friend had more about her than that, but looking at Nicola, she did wonder sometimes.
‘Where’s Peter?’ asked Diana.
‘Working,’ said Nicola. ‘I never disturb him when he’s working.’
No, I bet you don’t, thought Diana, snaffling another piece of toast. Wouldn’t want to disturb the great man, would we?
‘Come on,’ said Josie, before she’d finished, ‘time we were off.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Diana, feeling a little miffed. She liked her breakfast to be relaxed at the weekends. She had realised they were going to be busy today, but not quite how regimented things were going to be. She got up with a sigh, and went to get ready.
‘What are the boys going to do while we’re out?’ said Diana, as she climbed into the car behind Josie and Nicola.
‘As little as possible,’ said Josie firmly, exchanging looks with her mother. ‘I’ve booked them in with Garratt’s in the village to sort out their suits, but that’s it. I don’t trust Ant anywhere near the arrangements for my wedding, and as for Harry … Well, let’s just say his efforts so far have been somewhat less than helpful.’
‘Oh,’ said Diana, preparing to settle down for a journey of endless bridal chatter.
After twenty minutes in the car with Josie discussing the minutiae of flowers for the buttonholes, Diana felt like slitting her wrists. Did it matter that the bride’s side had pink, and the groom’s white? Or how big the mums’ corsages were going to be? Had she known it was going to be like this, Di might never have put the idea of weddings into Josie’s head. She was beginning to feel quite sorry for Harry. No wonder he’d wanted a fag last night. By the end of the weekend he’d probably be on forty a day.
Sail for the Sun
and bask in their adulation.
She had her crown. She had her victory. So why did it feel so hollow?
Chapter Seven
Diana was at the Standing Stones. She was standing, staring out to sea, the wind blowing through her hair. The sun was going down and the cliff was alive with burnished gold.
She heard someone call her name, and turning, she thought she saw Ant coming towards her, before the figure dissolved into Tatiana Okeby, saying, ‘What angel wakes me from my flowery bed …’
‘Rise and shine!’ Josie came bounding into Diana’s room ridiculously early for a Saturday, particularly one when they were away for the weekend.
‘What time is it?’ Diana came slowly to.
‘Nine a.m., sleepyhead, I’ve been up for hours,’ said Josie. Although she seemed bright and breezy, Diana thought she could detect a note of something else, as though Josie was determined to put on a show. An uncomfortable feeling of guilt shot through her. Josie hadn’t said anything, but Diana saw how it could have looked, her and Harry coming up the garden like that. But he’d sworn her to secrecy about his smoking, and she felt it wasn’t her secret to share with Josie.
‘Come on, time to get out and at ’em. We’re going to Penzance to do some serious dress shopping.’
‘Ugh,’ said Diana, pulling the duvet back. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe Josie hadn’t been affected by last night.
‘I’m a woman on a mission,’ said Josie.
‘I can see that,’ grumbled Diana, but she got out of bed. Her throat was sore from smoking too much, her mouth tasted sour and her head was thumping. Drinking always seemed like a good idea at the time.
Half an hour later, she, Nicola and Josie were having breakfast. There was no sign of the boys.
‘Sleeping off their hangovers, bless them,’ smiled Nicola, as if she were talking about children. Diana noticed Josie give a little wince of annoyance. Diana didn’t blame her. Nicola was so meek and mild it made Diana really impatient. She hoped that Josie wasn’t cast in the same mould, and wouldn’t turn into a carbon copy of her mum once she was settled down with Harry. Di thought her friend had more about her than that, but looking at Nicola, she did wonder sometimes.
‘Where’s Peter?’ asked Diana.
‘Working,’ said Nicola. ‘I never disturb him when he’s working.’
No, I bet you don’t, thought Diana, snaffling another piece of toast. Wouldn’t want to disturb the great man, would we?
‘Come on,’ said Josie, before she’d finished, ‘time we were off.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Diana, feeling a little miffed. She liked her breakfast to be relaxed at the weekends. She had realised they were going to be busy today, but not quite how regimented things were going to be. She got up with a sigh, and went to get ready.
‘What are the boys going to do while we’re out?’ said Diana, as she climbed into the car behind Josie and Nicola.
‘As little as possible,’ said Josie firmly, exchanging looks with her mother. ‘I’ve booked them in with Garratt’s in the village to sort out their suits, but that’s it. I don’t trust Ant anywhere near the arrangements for my wedding, and as for Harry … Well, let’s just say his efforts so far have been somewhat less than helpful.’
‘Oh,’ said Diana, preparing to settle down for a journey of endless bridal chatter.
After twenty minutes in the car with Josie discussing the minutiae of flowers for the buttonholes, Diana felt like slitting her wrists. Did it matter that the bride’s side had pink, and the groom’s white? Or how big the mums’ corsages were going to be? Had she known it was going to be like this, Di might never have put the idea of weddings into Josie’s head. She was beginning to feel quite sorry for Harry. No wonder he’d wanted a fag last night. By the end of the weekend he’d probably be on forty a day.
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