It's Raining Men Part 39

'Give him a chance.' This was from old Mr Wilkinson next door. He was standing beside Michael, his stick in one hand, the lead restraining his pet Labrador in the other.

'No, Mr Wilkinson, I won't,' replied May.

'A man serenading you? What's he done that's so bad you can resist that?' called the car-cleaner from across the street.

'Invent a dying wife so he can get me into bed,' screeched May. She closed the window just as Mr Wilkinson started hitting Michael with his stick and the big black Labrador started ravaging his trousers. Then she heard Michael shriek as a bucket load of dirty car-was.h.i.+ng water completely saturated him and his rose.

Chapter 95.

Clare switched on her phone and immediately columns of emails started to appear. Work, work, work, another congratulations from her father telling her that her siblings were delighted. Yeah, of course they were. She'd just raised the bar and set a new challenge for them and they would rise to it and exceed her success, she had no doubt. She didn't scroll down any more. She threw her phone on the worktop and opened the fridge for the half bottle of white wine she knew was in there. Another email pinged its arrival. Clare sank a gla.s.s in one. Her hands were shaking.

The intercom buzzed. She hoped it wasn't a courier bringing her something to do for tomorrow.

She picked up the handset. 'h.e.l.lo.'

'h.e.l.lo, it's Lud. Where the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l have you been?'

She threw herself on him when he walked into her flat.

'I've been looking for you. I drove up to the spa, and they said you weren't booked in. I've tried emailing you, ringing you . . .'

'It's a long story. We ended up in the wrong place and we didn't have any phone signal. Oh, it's so wonderful to see you.' Clare couldn't let him go. She breathed in the wonderful clean scent of him, held onto his familiar shape.

Lud held her at arm's length. 'Clare, I have to talk to you.'

She looked into his dear, dear face with dread. I've met someone and am going to marry them. I wanted you to know first.

'I've got something to tell you.'

Clare closed her eyes against the words she knew were coming.

'I've neglected you, Liebling. I've been a fool. I lost sight of my priorities and I'm ashamed of that. I can't tell you how fabulous Dubai is. But I'm as miserable as h.e.l.l without you. I would rather stay in London and see you. I don't want to be without you. I love you. I'm going to reject the job in Dubai so I'm back in London with you. And I promise that I won't even look at my phone when we are together.'

Clare burst into tears. Big, splashy, happy tears.

Lud kissed her face. 'I couldn't get you out of my head. I thought, What are you doing, Ludwig Wolke? You should be whisking Clare away to beautiful places, laughing, having fun. I've forgotten how to have fun, Clare. Help me remember.' And he gave her the biggest most pa.s.sionate snog that she had ever had in her life.

'I've been miserable without you too,' she said when she came up for breath. 'But I don't want you to give anything up for me.'

'I'd give anything up if it means we are together again . . .'

'Lud,' she began.

Release yourself from your own prison. It was as if Raine were beside her, whispering the words in her ear, pus.h.i.+ng a key into her hand.

'Lud.' She took a huge breath. 'I don't want to be a partner at Blackwoods and Margoyles.'

There, it was out. And it was like purging something vile and nasty that had been poisoning her.

'But you've worked for it for years . . .'

'I haven't worked for it for years for me.'

Lud understood her. He always had. He held her face in his safe, square hands. Then his phone rang in his pocket but he didn't even acknowledge it.

'What do you want, Clare? You s.e.xy, beautiful, darling, amazing Clare Salter. What do you want?'

'I want to never go back to Blackwoods and Margoyles. And I want to go to Dubai. But most of all I want you, Ludwig Wolke.'

'Then that is exactly what you shall have. Now, which do you want to do first, put the kettle on or pack your case?'

Only the rain has the right to rain on your parade.

ANON.

September

Chapter 96.

It was eight o'clock and Lara still hadn't finished work. She yawned as she stood at the photocopier and dictated notes into her phone while she waited for the doc.u.ment to be duplicated. She reckoned she would be through by nine.

'You're working late, Lara.' She saw Giles Billingley approaching. He had a very strange walk, as if he were gliding, or sliming, over to her.

'That's right, Giles,' she said, now in the orbit of his overpowering cologne. Something very expensive, no doubt, yet it smelled cheap and too sweet, like floral disinfectant on him.

'Good girl,' he said. 'That's what I like to see.' He was stroking her bottom and Lara, without thinking, whirled around and cracked his face. She felt her palm sink into his wobbly cheek, and hoped there was enough soap left in the Ladies to make her hand feel clean again.

Giles Billingley staggered to the side in shock. 'You'll pay for that,' he said. 'Don't ever waste your time applying for promotion.'

Lara was in more shock than he was. G.o.d, why did she do that? What had she done?

Why did he have to go and touch her? Who the h.e.l.l did he think he was?

She was angry for all sorts of reasons and felt stupidly and suddenly tearful. Then she noticed her voice recorder was still switched on.

May was at home. She had just got in.

'Sorry, I know I promised I'd cook but that little git sprang a meeting on me.'

'May, stop that a minute and listen to this, will you?' Lara played her the recording.

'You slapped him? What for?'

'He grabbed my a.r.s.e.'

'I thought so.'

'So that's my career ended.'

'You could fight him,' said May, throwing some chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s in the oven.

'You know what they're like. Old boys' club.'

'Okay, then threaten them with outside exposure. Leave the d.a.m.ned job, get the biggest payout you can and march out.'

'And do what?' asked Lara.

'Ask Lud for a job in Dubai. Then take me with you,' May suggested. 'I need a holiday. I feel as if I haven't had one for years.'

Lara switched on her laptop. 'Taking time out made me realize how much more there is to life than work. I half wish I'd never gone, to be honest.'

'You know that's a lie,' said May She would never wish she hadn't gone, because in that place she had met a man who was her benchmark for the future. Never again would May give herself to anyone who wasn't up to the decent, kind, honest, lovely standard of Frank Hathersage. He had shown her what a real man was. Michael had given up after being beaten up by Mr Wilkinson, bitten by his dog and drenched by the bloke across the road. She hadn't seen him since and never wanted to again.

'I know,' replied Lara. 'I didn't mean it. What I do mean is that Ren Dullem changed the shape of me. When I came home I no longer fitted into my life any more. Do you know what-'

She didn't even finish the sentence before May interrupted her.

'I know exactly what you mean, love.' She knew because she felt the same.

Lara thought about Ren Dullem more than she dared to admit, even to May. She thought about Gene Hathersage thundering towards her down his path. Even more than that she thought about him picking her up and holding her. Timing really was a b.u.mmer sometimes.

There was a jingling noise heralding a message that Clare wanted to connect on Skype.

'Incoming, incoming,' Lara squealed, flapping excitedly and moving over so May could sit next to her.

Clare's merry face appeared; even her swinging black bob looked happy 'h.e.l.looo, h.e.l.looo,' she said, waving. The others waved back.

'How are you? You look great,' said May.

'I am great. It's fabulous here. The weather is wonderful, the sea is gorgeous, Lud's fabulous . . .'

Lara grinned. 'And we are very happy for you, darling.'

'Look, I've got some very important news.'

'You're pregnant? I knew you were glowing.'

'Shut up, Lars, and let me talk, please. I've had a letter,' she said, and paused for dramatic effect. 'From Raine's solicitor.'

'Ah, and has she left you something nice?' asked May, imagining a necklace or a lovely pearl ring.

'Yes, she has actually. She's sort of left me Ren Dullem.'

Chapter 97.

My dearest Clare,

I have been thinking about the conversation we had when you told me what you and your friends did for a living. I can think of no better people to restore Ren Dullem to its former glory, bringing in the new and yet keeping the old loveliness.

I have put a lot of money away over the years. The Carlton estate was very generous but I never needed to spend any of it. I saved it for my beloved village. And if you are reading this, then I am gone and with me has died the need to contain our beautiful Ren Dullem.

Will you and your friends consider the possibility of turning Ren Dullem into the flower it should be? The monies from my savings have gathered interest and should, I hope, be enough to pay you all a generous salary for at least three years, by my calculations. The Village Fund will, as I understand it, also be at your disposal.

I knew there was a reason why our paths had crossed and I die happier for knowing you whether you take up the challenge or not.

My fondest wishes to you always.

Be happy, my lovely girl.

Raine de la Mer 'Dear G.o.d,' said Lara. 'That's a mighty ask.'

'I've been thinking,' said Clare. 'I don't need to be there; you're the business experts. We can Skype and I can look over the figures. We could do this.'

'Whoa, whoa, whoa,' said Lara, rubbing her forehead as if that would help put all the jigsaw pieces currently floating around inside her head into some semblance of order. 'There's a lot to think about here.'

'No, there isn't,' argued May. 'You're unhappy. I am certainly unhappy. We work for other people who cream off the best of everything we do. We know what we're doing, we're very good at it and, as Clare said, we could do this. If she can leap and land safely, I'm b.l.o.o.d.y well sure we can. And first thing tomorrow, Lars, you are going to walk straight into Giles Billingley's office with your recording and tell him that if he doesn't make you redundant with a ma.s.sive pay-off, you're going directly to the police and the press.'

Lara opened her mouth to bring some reason to the proceedings but found that she really didn't want to.

'Oh, b.u.g.g.e.r it, let's do it,' she said.

Don't sit inside and pray for the rain to pa.s.s when you could be out walking in it, dancing in it, kissing in it.