Page 51 of The Runaway Bridesmaid

She ditched the bicycle and took the steps to the front door two at a time.

‘Oh, hi, Rosie isn’t it?’

‘Yes, I wonder if Charlie, sorry, Charles is still here?’

Charlie’s sister, Amelia, smiled and pointed out of the front door to the white-tented pavilion crouched like a hardened meringue on the Manor’s pristine croquet lawn. ‘Over there.’

Rosie glanced down at the marquee. What a strange place to hang out. But, she mused, as she strode towards the open flap billowing in the breeze, as the hotel was closed for the winter, perhaps he was helping to set up one of the conferences that take place in the grounds far enough away so as not to disturb their well-earned peace. She didn’t blame them at all. She knew first-hand how it felt to have your home invaded, violated even, by strangers.

She raised her walk to a trot, her heart bouncing with anxiety as she approached the entrance. What was she going to say to Charlie? If he’d been right about Angus, was he rightabout everything else too? That it was important to be sure of a partner’s motives before letting them into your heart? Yes, knowing his history, she knew he was.

She had a great deal of apologising to do. Would he forgive her?

In that moment, she realised that there was something else she needed to tell him too, something she had known for some time, but had ignored because she was scared of what it meant and how she would deal with the consequences. However, nothing worthwhile was ever easy, and it was time she raised her chin and took a leap of faith, no matter what the possible repercussions were. She had to grab her courage and tell Charlie that she loved him, with every fibre of her body, and now that she had accepted the challenge, she couldn’t wait to shout it from the rooftops.

She had taken only a couple of steps towards the entrance of the marquee when a sudden vibration from her jacket pocket stopped her in her tracks. She drew out her phone to check the caller ID and a smile stretched her lips when she saw her friend’s name pop up on screen.

‘Lauren! Hi, is everything okay? It’s just I’m…’

‘Rosie, that’s what I’m called to tell you. We’re both safe.’

‘What do you mean?’ Why shouldn’t she be safe?

‘I knew you’d be worried. We’ve escaped up-state to Brett’s brother’s farm. But I’m so worried for all those left behind to sit it out, especially along the New Jersey’s shoreline and Hudson Bay area.’

‘Hang on, Lauren. What’s going on?’

‘Hurricane Sandy! Haven’t you heard?’

‘No, no, I…’

‘Anyway, that’s not the main reason I’m calling. Are you sitting down?’

‘Lauren. I have a meeting …’

‘Sit down, Rosie.’

Rosie glanced around the wide expanse of lawn, the colour of Irish clover, and decided to lie. ‘Okay, I’m sitting down.’

‘I’ll keep it brief, but I’ll email you a copy of the report when it comes through. The office is closed until Hurricane Sandy passes. Remember the company you bought those shares in for the Baker-Colt Trust? The company involved in the exploration for oil and gas?’

‘Lauren, can we do this some other time? There’s somewhere I need to be.’

‘Just listen, Rosie. You won’t believe this!’

‘What?’

Rosie glanced with impatience towards to marquee, edging closer to its entrance, anxious to terminate Lauren’s call so she could get inside and start apologising to Charlie.

‘Well, as you know, the company have been undertaking an unpopular fracking operation in the Wyoming desert. Yesterday, they announced that they’ve located a huge reserve of natural gas. They’ve struck gold, Rosie!’

‘Struck gold?’

‘Yes!’

‘Ok… ay.’

‘So, you know what that means, don’t you?’

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