Jill Mansell - Chapter 1

‘My husband’s a drinker,’ Betty chimed in. ‘Drinking’s all he ever does. Forty years we’ve been married and he’s never managed to hold down a job for more than a week.’

Competitiveness stirring inside her, Sally wiped her nose and said, ‘One of my exes drank too.

And another one jilted me practically at the altar!’

The girl in the purple sweater, not to be outdone, blurted out, ‘I came home from work once and my ex was in the garden pegging out the washing.’

Everyone in the waiting room looked at her. Maureen said, ‘Isn’t that a good thing?’

‘He was doing it wearing my best bra and knickers.’

God, that was something she’d never even considered. Sally said mournfully, ‘I’m better off on my own.’

‘Come on, not all men are awful.’ Maureen rose spiritedly to their defence. ‘My son’s a lovely lad. He’d make any girl happy. In fact, you two would make a wonderful couple. I could introduce you to him if you like.’ She was nodding eagerly at • Sally.

Next to her, leaning back, Betty was mouthing, ‘Gay.’ Sally stammered, ‘Um ... thanks . .

‘The thing is, even when you think people are happy together, chances are they aren’t. Everyone just likes to pretend.’ Holding up the copy of Hello! she’d been reading, the girl in purple declared, ‘This magazine’s six months old. Look at these two on the cover, wrapped round each other like a couple of eels. But are they still together now? No they’re not. And it’s the same all the way through the magazine! Everyone’s split up since then, split up and sold their stories about how hellish their lives together really were, and you’ve wasted all that time envying them ... I mean, what is the point?’

‘By ‘eck, love, steady on.’ An elderly man in a flat cap spoke for the first time. He shook his head and said good-naturedly, ‘There’s plenty of happy marriages out there, trust me.’

The girl in purple cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘Could have fooled me.’

‘You’ve just got off to a bad start, pet.’ The man’s eyes crinkled at the corners; he sounded like the voice-over in the Hovis ads. ‘Everyone has someone who’s right for them. It’s just a question of keeping going till you find them.’

‘I’d have better luck finding the Loch Ness monster,’ said the girl in purple.

‘You’ll get there in the end.’ His smile was genial. ‘And let me tell you, it’s worth it.You might not think it to look at me now, but I were a bit of a jack-the-lad in my day. I had my share of girlfriends. Never saw the point in settling down, I were having too much fun. Then I met Jessie.

She worked in a bakery in Bradford and the moment I walked into that shop and saw her behind the counter I knew she were the one for me. Eyes like stars, she had. Before I even heard her speak I fell for her, hook, line and sinker. We started courting and after a month I asked her to marry me. Nobody could believe it, not the family, not me mates down the pit, not the lasses I’d been out with before Jessie came along. But I knew it were the right thing to do, you see. I’d found the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.’

The whole of the waiting room was on the edge of their seats, listening to him tell the story in his simple heartfelt way. ‘And?’ prompted the girl in purple.

‘We’ve been married forty-nine years, pet. And happier together than I ever thought possible.

My Jessie means all the world to me.’

It all sounded too perfect. Sally frowned. ‘Don’t you ever argue?’

‘Argue?’ The man chuckled. ‘Of course we argue! Hasn’t been a single day when we haven’t had a fight about summat. And let me tell you, I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

BRRRRR went the buzzer, making everyone jump.

‘Mr Allerdyce, please, to room four,’ Dr Willis’s voice came over the intercom.

‘That’s me.’ Having leaned heavily on his walking sticks in order to haul himself to his feet, Mr Allerdyce tipped his cap to everyone in the waiting room.

When he’d made his way out and the door had closed behind him, the middle-aged man said,

‘His wife probably can’t stand the sight of him.’

Everyone in the waiting room turned and gave the man a stony look.

‘Sorry.’ He flinched under the glare of their disapproval. ‘Just a joke.’

‘Are you divorced?’ said the girl in purple.

He looked surprised. ‘Yes, I am.’

The girl nodded. ‘I thought so.’

Chapter 50

’You’re leaving the practice?’ Sally couldn’t believe it; she loved working for Dr Willis. Her whole world was crumbling around her. What had she done to deserve this?

‘Isn’t it exciting? We can’t wait.’ Emily beamed across the dinner table at her. ‘Skipton’s where I grew up, all my family are there, it’s just such a wonderful place to live. Everyone’s so friendly, not like down here. Do you know the Dales?’

‘Not really.’ Sally was still struggling to take in the news. The other doctors were OK, pleasant enough, but Roger Willis was her favourite. The practice wouldn’t be the same without him.

‘It was Emily’s idea.’ Roger refilled their wine glasses. ‘She spotted the ad in Pulse, organised a trip up to Skipton, even dragged me round the estate agents before I knew I’d got the job. We’d always planned to retire up there,’ he went on. ‘But this way we’ve got a few years of me working in the area first, becoming a real part of the community.’

‘That’s why we asked you over here this evening. We wanted you to be the first to know. Here, take a look at the place we’re buying.’ Bursting with excitement, Emily produced a glossy brochure. ‘All my life I’ve dreamed of living in a house like this.’

They were moving to Yorkshire and they expected her to be pleased about it. Sally’s heart was in her boots but she forced herself to take the brochure and look interested.

The place was spectacular, a sprawling converted farmhouse on a hillside with lovingly tended gardens and stunning views across the valley. There were five bedrooms, three of them ensuite, and a kitchen the size of a tennis court. There was even a granny annexe, a snooker room and —

crikey — an actual tennis court.

Sally said, ‘It’s fantastic. Can I come with you?’

Emily paused, a forkful of fish pie halfway to her mouth. ‘Really?’

Oh no, it was like the middle-aged divorced chap attempting humour in the waiting room this morning. ‘I was joking,’ said Sally.

‘Oh’ Emily’s face fell. ‘Shame.’

‘Sorry?’

‘No, my fault, you got our hopes up there for a minute.’ Emily waggled her free hand. ‘It’s just that the current receptionist is the wife of the chap Roger’s replacing. They’re moving down to Cornwall. So the practice needs a replacement ... but of course you wouldn’t want to leave London, silly of me to even think it! Although you’re welcome to come up and stay with us whenever you like. In fact you must! You’ll fall in love with the place, I know you will. The people are so warm and sociable, it’s like a different world up there.’

Sally gazed again at the photographs in the glossy brochure. Was this a sign?

Was Yorkshire a different world?

Was it fate that had brought Mr Allerdyce into the surgery this morning with his heart-warming tale of true love? She hadlooked through his medical notes after- his visit and discovered that the wife he adored was crippled with osteoporosis and confined to a wheelchair, but that with the help of the family Mr Allerdyce was able to care for her devotedly. Reading this and picturing the two of them together had sent Sally into the loo for another little weep. Honestly, it was a wonder she was able to see out of these eyes, they’d squeezed out so many tears today.