The Hen Party Read online

‘Then you build your own,’ I said softly. ‘For you.’

  My heart squeezed for him as we trudged back to Driftwood Lodge and I sent up a silent message to the heavens hoping that Kate would get in touch with him soon.

  That night, sleep didn’t come easily. My head was full of Sapphire and Ruby’s differing quests for fame, mistaking Jude for the stripper and then Theo and his revelations on the beach. My body, on the other hand, was so exhausted that I could barely be bothered to get undressed and when I did I couldn’t find my nightshirt and ended up crawling under the covers naked.

  The hen party across the courtyard had turned rowdy and I put my earphones in and listened to some music and must have fallen asleep. At three, I was woken up by a screech of laughter from the cottages and when I looked out lights shone through the downstairs window of Penguin’s Pad and the party was still in full swing. Jude’s van was still there too. There was something about Jude that intrigued me; he was attractive, of course, with an infectious laugh that made me laugh too. But it was more than that, and the thought that I’d like to get to know him better sent me to sleep with a smile on my face. And a lovely dream it was too.

  An annoying choking, ratchety noise woke me up. It sounded like a poorly engine. I lay there for a few seconds willing it to stop, and despite keeping my eyes shut tight I could feel the sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains.

  The engine noise stopped and there was a loud metallic slamming sound.

  ‘You have got to be joking!’ yelled a voice.

  I got up, wrapping the duvet around me, and stood looking out of the window. Across the courtyard, at the upstairs window of Kittiwake’s Cabin I caught a quick flash of pink skin and blonde hair before the curtain was quickly drawn. And immediately below my window was Jude.

  What was he doing here so early?

  My breath caught in my throat as the penny dropped: he hadn’t been home. He was still in last night’s clothes, his white shirt streaked with oil, and was trying to open the bonnet of his van. He fiddled with the catch for a moment and flung it up and then he dived under it out of view.

  Who had I just seen at the window across the courtyard? Had he spent the night with one of our guests? I racked my brains trying to remember who was staying where. Not Sapphire, thank goodness, she was in Penguin’s Pad. Not Virginia, she had brown hair? Catherine or Ruby? I shuddered. How could he? I mean, he was a free man and all that, but surely there was some sort of caterer’s code: thou shall not sleep with the one you feed or something.

  I gripped the duvet tightly under my armpits before opening the window, making sure it was covering my assets; he’d seen them once already and didn’t need a second viewing.

  ‘Quite the party animal, aren’t you?’ I called. Did that sound casually amused, or a bit waspish? Possibly the latter. ‘I didn’t expect our caterer to still be here for breakfast.’

  He reappeared from underneath the bonnet and frowned. ‘Yep. Van won’t start. Thank goodness football practice is cancelled this morning, or I’d be in even worse trouble.’

  A football player; that explained the trim physique and the lovely toned bum … I gave myself a shake and leaned my elbows on the window sill.

  ‘Who will you be in trouble with?’ I said, arching an eyebrow. ‘Angie?’

  ‘Far worse than that.’ He wiped his hands on his trousers. ‘I need to get back for Mabel, a neighbour let her out last night and first thing this morning, but she’ll be bouncing off the walls ready for a walk.’

  ‘Oh, poor Mabel.’ My concern for his lovely dog instantly took priority over my interest in his nocturnal activities. ‘What do you need, petrol, or oil or something?’

  Jude’s lips twitched. ‘Something. Flat battery.’

  ‘Must have been all that partying,’ I said, unable to resist it.

  My bedroom door creaked open to the side of me and before I had a chance to flip the duvet round my naked bottom, Theo entered carrying a tray.

  ‘I’ve brought you some cheeks … tea. I mean tea.’ He froze, staring at my exposed posterior.

  ‘Theo!’ I yelped. ‘You should have knocked.’

  In my panic to cover my bum, the duvet slipped to the floor. I scrabbled to pick it up, conscious that due to the low windows I’d just given Jude a 360-degree view of myself, but in my haste, I trod on the end of the duvet and stumbled forward crashing straight into Theo and his tray. The mug of tea went everywhere, including a few splashes on my bare skin and a slice of toast dropped to the floor.

  I squealed at the heat from the hot liquid.

  ‘I’ve burned you, I’m so sorry.’ Theo flung the tray on my bed, grabbed hold of a paper napkin and started dabbing me.

  I pushed him away. ‘Please, get off me!’

  ‘Nina!’ a familiar female voice gasped from below the window. ‘And Theo!’

  I grabbed the duvet from the floor and spun round to see who it was. Outside, still astride her bicycle, was Molly, here earlier than arranged, to collect the laundry. She was staring up at me, her brown eyes wide with shock. Jude, on the other hand, was leaning against his van helpless with laughter.

  ‘If you were a gentleman, you’d look away!’ I fumed at Jude who covered his mouth with his hand and tried to look serious.

  ‘Nothing I haven’t seen before,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  Molly looked from me to Jude and back again with a gasp.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked, looking bewildered. ‘Why are you entertaining someone else’s husband in your bedroom? Naked?’

  ‘I’m asking myself the same question,’ I said with a nervous laugh. ‘But it’s not how it looks.’

  ‘Although it does look ravishing,’ said Theo under his breath. He joined me at the window and I leapt away from him. ‘Morning, Molly. All just a misunderstanding. I was hoping to surprise her in bed.’

  I glared at him.

  ‘Sorry. With breakfast in bed,’ he stammered.

  Molly harrumphed and Jude buried his face in his hands to stifle his snorts. My stomach had dropped to somewhere near my knees and I looked to Jude for help.

  ‘In their defence,’ said Jude, clearing his throat, ‘Theo was in the kitchen a moment ago, so I don’t think—’

  ‘Save your excuses for Kate. All of you,’ Molly’s voice trembled as she wheeled her bike around to face in the direction she’d just come from and put her foot on the pedal. ‘I’ve heard them all before.’

  ‘I wasn’t lying when I said there was nothing going on between Theo and me, honestly,’ I said, leaning my head as far as I could out of the window in one last-ditch attempt to rescue the situation. ‘Come on, we’re friends, aren’t we?’

  Theo, the idiot, squeezed in next to me so that we were shoulder to shoulder, which didn’t help one bit.

  Molly looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, and shook her head. ‘You are a terrible actress, Nina, and an even more terrible friend. I am so disappointed in you.’

  I felt like crying too as I watched her cycle off. She couldn’t have said anything more hurtful. It was all so unfortunate and unfair.

  Beside me Theo swore under his breath.

  ‘Molly wouldn’t tell Kate, would she?’ he muttered.

  I sucked in breath and lifted my shoulders. ‘She thinks all men are knobs and you’ve just proved her right.’

  ‘But I didn’t do anything!’ he protested.

  There was a coughing noise outside and we both looked out of the window.

  ‘Sorry to butt in,’ called Jude, attempting to hide his mirth, ‘but have you got any jump leads I can borrow?’

  Ten minutes later, Theo had gone out to help Jude and I was dressed and downstairs in the kitchen with a new mug of tea, wondering what on earth we were going to do about Molly. Mittens, who was growing bigger and bolder by the day, was playing a game of chase with a champagne cork on the kitchen floor while I was checking on the sausages that Theo had shoved into the Aga for breakfast when the phone ra
ng. I went through to the hall to pick it up but the answer-phone beat me to it.

  Good morning, dear heart. This is Maxine Pearce, I’ve decided to take you up on your offer and book into one of your cottages for a week while the place is still a backwater with no phone calls to distract me. Any of them will do. The dates are …

  My heart pinged with excitement. I reached for the phone to interrupt her message and speak to her myself but the kitten distracted me with a meow. He had followed me into the hall and was now eyeing up the big wide world through the open front door. Theo’s engine revved into life. I left the phone and I ran to scoop up his little furry body and shut the door before he met a sticky end under the van’s wheels. Maxine was still talking: Not a holiday strictly speaking; I’ve a pile of scripts to read as tall as the Shard and I can’t hear myself think around here. And thinking is something I really need to do. Bye, bye, bye.

  I tried to grab the phone before she rang off but I was too late; the line was dead. But no sooner had I replaced it in its cradle than the phone rang again. I smiled to myself as I lifted it to my ear, thinking that Maxine had forgotten to tell me some detail or other.

  ‘Brightside Holidays,’ I said playfully. ‘Lady of the house speaking.’

  There was a beat of silence.

  ‘This is Kate Fletcher,’ said a low voice, humming with anger.

  The blood rushed from my head to my feet; bad news certainly travelled fast.

  ‘Kate! I’m so sorry, I was expecting someone else. That was just a joke.’ I was hugely thankful that this wasn’t a video call; my face was burning. ‘A bad joke.’

  ‘A joke,’ she said flatly. ‘Not unlike my marriage.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ I pleaded. ‘When you’ve seen how much we’ve – Theo – has done—’

  ‘So I’ve seen. The Coastal Cottages website has made it very clear just what the two of you have been up to.’

  ‘Does it look good? I tried to make the cottages look cosy.’

  ‘Oh, you look cosy all right. You and Theo look very cosy in your profile picture. Mr and Mrs Fletcher.’ Her voice had gone scarily loud.

  ‘What profile picture?’ I repeated.

  She gave a hollow laugh. ‘Every holiday property on the website has a write-up about the owners. And a photograph. Brightside Holidays has a picture of you and Theo looking every inch the welcoming hosts.’

  My heart rate suddenly trebled and I had a flashback to the moment Nigel had taken a picture of us. I had no idea that was what it had been for.

  ‘Kate, I—’

  ‘Put my husband on the line.’

  At that moment the front door opened and eleven slightly bedraggled women filed in in search of food.

  ‘Need Diet Coke,’ demanded a green-faced Ruby.

  I put Mittens into Sapphire’s hands, pointed Catherine in the direction of the sausages and the soft drinks and ran outside to find Theo.

  ‘Kate’s on the phone for you,’ I said, feeling as sick as Ruby looked. ‘I don’t think she’s very happy.’

  When he staggered back outside a few minutes later he looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a boxer and lost.

  ‘What did she say?’ I said, jumping out of Jude’s van, where I’d been trying the key in the ignition for him.

  ‘She wants a divorce,’ he said in a dull voice. ‘Seeing you and me together on the Coastal Cottages website was the final straw.’

  Jude rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing where to put himself.

  ‘No way,’ I said grimly. ‘Not on my watch. Not after all this.’

  ‘Afraid so.’ Theo raked a hand through his hair wearily. ‘She’s convinced we’re having an affair and that’s even before Molly gets to her. It’s my fault for not confessing that you were here.’

  ‘Let me talk to her. She’s got it all wrong.’ I stepped towards the house but Theo barred my way and caught hold of my hand.

  Jude got into his van discreetly out of earshot.

  ‘Maybe a divorce is the right thing,’ he swallowed. ‘Maybe it is time to go our separate ways.’

  ‘Don’t give up now!’ I cried. ‘When I first arrived here you were desperate to win her back. What’s happened to change that?’

  ‘Me. I’ve changed.’ He blew out a breath, glanced at Jude and lowered his voice. ‘Nina, what I was trying to say last night—’

  ‘No!’ I clapped my hands over my ears. ‘Stop.’

  All that talk last night about plenty more fish in the sea and then asking me to stay in Devon … I had an awful feeling that his next words would be ones I didn’t want to hear. Over the last few days he’d been making little comments, standing too close, touching me … That was not what I wanted, it was not why I was here, and deep down I couldn’t believe it was what he wanted either.

  Suddenly it was all too much for me and tears sprang to my eyes. Molly had accused me of being a terrible actress and a terrible friend. It seemed as if Theo was ready to call time on his marriage and Kate was asking to do the same. Instead of getting them back together I’d driven a wedge between them. I’d failed. I’d failed at everything and it was all my fault.

  At that moment Jude’s engine roared to life and he jumped out and dropped the bonnet ready to go.

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ he shouted to Theo, raising a hand.

  ‘Jude, hold on,’ I cried, flinging open the passenger door. ‘Please can I have a lift?’

  Theo grabbed hold of the door to stop me shutting it. ‘Don’t go, I need you.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, peeling his fingers from the door. ‘I can’t be here right now.’

  ‘Sure.’ Jude put the van into reverse. ‘Where are you heading?’

  I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat as the van bumped down the drive, putting more and more distance between Driftwood Lodge and me, the figure of Theo getting smaller and smaller in the wing mirror.

  You are a terrible actress and an even more terrible friend. My life was a mess.

  ‘For once in my life,’ I said with a sob, ‘I have no idea what to do next.’

  The Thank Yous

  Thank you to Francesca Best, Hannah Bright, Julia Teece, Candy Ikwuwunna, Janine Giovanni and all the wonderful team at Transworld who add the sparkle and magic to make my books the very best they can be. Thank you to Hannah Ferguson, Joanna Swainson and Thérèse Coen at Hardman Swainson for waving the Team Bramley flag here and around the world.

  Thank you to my wonderful writer chums who are always there with a word of encouragement and their cheerleading pompoms: Miranda Dickinson, Rachael Lucas, Jo Eustace, Lisa Dickenson, Alex Brown, Lizzie Lamb, June Kearns and Milly Johnson.

  Thank you to the fabulous women I’ve met through my writing; they always make me feel a million dollars: Jane Streeter, Kim Nash, Harriet Bourton, Sharon Moore, Tracey Tyrell and Jackie Buxton.

  Thank you to Lucy Salmon, whose cat, Mittens the kitten in the book is named after and thanks to the Lucas family whose dog Mabel is Jude’s much loved Springer Spaniel. Thanks to Ken and Mandy Buxton whose South American adventure inspired Kate’s trip. Thanks to Christie Barlow for her help in finding out from Emmerdale how top-secret storylines are handled by the cast and crew – all inaccuracies are mine! Thank you to Cath Cresswell whose love of a rock-solid itinerary inspired Catherine, the chief bridesmaid.

  Thank you, and much love to my family: Tony, Phoebe, Isabel, Mum, Roger and Mary Monica for all the love, help and support you give me each and every day; I couldn’t do this without you.

  Theo and Kate’s relationship has definitely stalled … and it’s not clear where they (or Nina) are heading. Can Nina turn it all around and help save her friend’s marriage? And for that matter, her own love life might need some looking at too …

  Continue the story in Part Three of A Match Made in Devon: The Frenemies

  As the sun begins to shine, love is blooming for Nina in Brightside Cove. Finally, she has the chance at the life (and love) she’
s always craved, but there may yet be a choice between old and new. There’s hardly time to contemplate her options though; the hen party might be leaving but things don’t stay calm at Brightside Cove for long.

  Once again, worlds collide as a friend and a foe come to stay in Theo’s beautiful holiday cottages. What is the reason behind their ancient animosity? What connection do they have to Nina?

  Struggling to ignore what the future holds … can Nina help mend the broken relationships of her friends? Will building her career take her even further away from her new sense of home?

  You can find out what happens next in the third part of A Match Made in Devon – a wonderfully warm and funny novel told in four parts, following the adventures of Nina Penhaligan as she builds herself a new life.

  Don’t miss Cathy Bramley’s wonderful new novel…

  Hetty’s Farmhouse Bakery

  Thirty-two-year-old Hetty Greengrass is the star around which the rest of her family orbits. Marriage, motherhood and helping Dan run Sunnybank Farm have certainly kept her hands full for the last twelve years. But when her daughter Poppy has to choose her inspiration for a school project and picks her aunt, not her mum, Hetty is left full of self-doubt.

  Hetty’s always been generous with her time and until now, her biggest talent – baking deliciously moreish shortcrust pastry pies – has been limited to charity work and the village fete. But taking part in a competition run by Cumbria’s Finest to find the very best produce from the region might be just the thing to make her daughter proud … and reclaim something for herself.

  Except that life isn’t as simple as producing the perfect pie. Changing the status quo isn’t easy – and with cracks appearing in her marriage and shocking secrets coming to light, Hetty must decide where her priorities really lie …

  Out now!

  About the Author

  Cathy Bramley is the Sunday Times bestselling author of the romantic comedies Ivy Lane, Appleby Farm, Wickham Hall, Conditional Love, The Plumberry School of Comfort Food, White Lies and Wishes and The Lemon Tree Café. She lives in a Nottinghamshire village with her family.