Page 34 of A Wish For Jo
Greetings from sunny south Wales. Well, it's actually pouring right now, but I caught a glimpse of sun yesterday when I was out for a walk with my book club buddies. It lasted about ten minutes, but you know all about changeable weather in Cranley.
How are things? Hope the café's doing well and you're taking care of yourself. I really need to get my butt in gear and visit you. I'm such a timid traveller—I panic when I have to drive from Mumbles to Swansea!
The big news from me is that I'm getting married! I can't quite believe it myself after all these years of being a sad singleton. Not that I'm suggesting you're sad in any way. Honestly, I can put my foot in it without leaving the house.
Anyway, the lucky man's called Austin and we met two months ago at Verdi's. You know, the fabulous restaurant and ice-cream parlour on the seafront here. I'm sure I've babbled on about it before.
I know you're shaking your head right now and thinking: Carole's lost the plot, marrying someone she's known for a heartbeat. But trust me, when it's right, you know.
Austin grew up in Mumbles but moved away in his twenties. He's divorced, no children, and moved back here six months ago. I bumped into him, quite literally, on the way to the ladies' loo and we got chatting. Next thing I know, we're tucking into salted caramel and shortbread sundaes and chatting like we'd known each other forever.
He popped the question two days ago and gave me the most gorgeous ring. I promise I'll take a photo and send it to you. You know how rubbish I am with mobiles and computers! I'm much happier with pen and paper, or a proper chat on my landline. Austin thinks it's sweet that I'm a throwback to the seventies, minus the flares!
The rest of the letter contained more gushing about the wonderful Austin, wedding plans, and Carole's new job as an assistant in an optician’s. 'Must have picked up a pair of rose-tinted spectacles on your first day,' grumbled Jo, before rebuking herself for being so cynical. Carole was in love after her fair share of disastrous relationships. Who was Jo to rain on her misty-eyed parade?
Jo twiddled with her mum's engagement ring and snorted with laughter as she remembered the bizarre conversation with Dr Abbott. Hesitating for a moment, she slipped the ring off her right hand and put it on her wedding finger. She allowed herself a little daydream about someone getting down on one knee and asking her to marry them, then producing a velvet box and flipping it open to reveal a beautiful ring. Nothing too flashy: more class than crass.
'For goodness’ sake, you'll be skipping down to Janette's next to buy bridal magazines!' Jo switched the ring back to her right hand. She'd been engaged once, and that hadn't ended well.
With Aaliyah holding the fort at A Bit of Crumpet, Jo didn't have any pressing tasks. She pondered what to do next. Obviously, visiting the corner shop and stocking up on bridal magazines was a no-no. Firstly, tripping down the aisle in a haze of matrimonial bliss just wasn't on the cards. Secondly, word would spread like wildfire and Jo would be the subject of knowing looks and not-so-subtle comments.
'Didn't know you were seeing someone. Anyone we know?'
'Ah, how lovely. So nice to see older people finding happiness.'
'Are you pregnant?'
Jo decided a soak in the bath and a few chapters of a book would help soothe both body and mind. It would keep her focussed, instead of allowing random, crazy notions to swamp her brain.
Jo settled in the tub, but found it impossible to read as her glasses kept steaming up. She slid down until the bubbles enveloped her entire body and concentrated on her breathing — in, out, in, out — until she felt relaxed. She closed her eyes and drifted into a state of semi-consciousness.
Jo, would you make me the happiest man in the world and be my wife?
She slipped under the bubbles and allowed herself to dream a little longer…
CHAPTER35
'Wow!'
Jo's reaction delighted Harvey — assuming that 'wow' always meant a good thing. Could there be a negative version? No, she'd clapped her hands together in delight, her sparkling eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the restaurant.
'You like it?' Harvey had spent yet another restless night wondering if The Crooked Cauldron would pass muster. OK, that wasn't theonlyreason for his inability to sleep more than four hours at a stretch.
'It's like being on the set of a Halloween movie, or an adaptation of Macbeth,' said Jo. 'Except with a modern twist.'
'And minus the witches,' added Harvey, placing a hand in the small of Jo's back to steer her towards the beaming young woman waiting to seat them. 'Table for two, under the name of Dempster.' Harvey's breath snagged in his throat as he imagined the whole restaurant grinding to a halt, beady little stares piercing his flesh like red-hot needles. A slip of the tongue, but a dangerous one.
'I'm sorry, sir. I can't seem to find a reservation under that—'
'Quinn. The name's Harvey Quinn.' Jeez, now he sounded like a bargain-basement Bond. Very shaken and definitely stirred by the woman next to him, who — thank the lord of small mercies — had wandered out of earshot.
'Ah, yes.' The maitre d' drew a neat line through the booking and gestured to a fellow staff member. 'This is Alfonso, who will be looking after you tonight. Your first time with us, Mr Quinn?'
Harvey nodded as Alfonso, all chiselled jawline and impossibly tight shirt, clutched two menus to his honed chest and gestured towards a dark corner of the restaurant. Not that any areas of the place were brightly illuminated. Perhaps they provided miners' helmets to peruse the menus.
Jo reappeared. ’Sorry, I just needed to pop to the loo. I have a thing about toilets.' She thanked Alfonso who’d guided her to their table. He pulled out her chair and waited until she was seated. 'Not in a "that ballcock needs changing” way or "shouldn't the toilet roll go the other way round?" way.' Jo laughed and the sound calmed Harvey's rattled nerves.
'We're all allowed our quirks and foibles,' he said, pointing to a top-of-the-range Malbec on the wine list and requesting a jug of water. 'And don't those two words sound really strange when you say them out loud?'
