be honest, Fleur, that was actually quite a nice thought… for Rob,’ said Charlie, who was immensely relieved that it wasn’t a posh London hotel he’d chosen. Poppy Van Benton appeared in a flurry of pallid bridesmaid’s dress.
‘Sis! What’s happened?’ The assembled support group all looked in Rob’s direction. He was now trying to reason with Fleur from a slightly safer distance. As nobody was providing Poppy with an explanation, Charlie stepped in.
‘Rob is still seeing that Sophie girl, even after I told him I would have his gentleman’s vegetables for earrings and guess what as a matching pendant. That still holds true, by the way,’ said Charlie, glaring at Rob. Rob was now shaking his head vigorously, which didn’t surprise Charlie. He was bound to deny that Charlie had bumped into him outside a tube station kissing his meant-to-be ex-girlfriend, Sophie.
‘What!’ spluttered Fleur, dragging her tear-stained face away from her mother’s now-make-up-smeared Chanel ensemble.
‘What?’ repeated Charlie, feeling that odd sensation in her stomach when something is not quite adding up but you know that it should be. She looked at Rob, who was scratching his head nervously.
‘I told Fleur that I’m going on tour, with the Headless Rodents,’ said Rob, fishing business cards out of his suit pocket and handing them round, and wisely missing out Fleur for fear of another punch.
‘Your pop group?’ asked Mrs Van Benton, taking the card.
‘It’s more indie rock, Mrs VB, but yeah. We’ve got this opportunity to support that Goth group that came fourth in a TV Talent show, so we jumped at it and we leave in a few weeks. Couple of visa issues need sorting out first and then we’re off. This could be our big break,’ he said, turning his best appealing eyes onto Fleur.
Charlie’s unease was steadily growing. She knew that Rob and his merry band of equally feckless individuals were talking to some agent but she hadn’t thought for a moment that it would ever come to anything. She had instantly assumed that Rob’s recent return to the expertly tattooed arms of Sophie was the cause for the outburst.
‘You’re still seeing Sophie?’ A little spit flew in his direction as Fleur literally spat out the words as she pointed at Rob. She spun round, almost knocking over her mother ‘And you knew,’ she said, jabbing a close-range finger at Charlie. Mrs Van Benton gasped in time to the finger-pointing and Charlie felt her stomach do a triple salchow.
Fleur looked around for the heaviest thing to throw at Rob. She grabbed the top tier of the wedding cake in both hands and, propelled by her anger, launched it into Rob’s face. The reception, which had been in full swing, abruptly halted as everyone turned to stare at the bride and groom, apart from little Millie and Fleur’s Uncle Steve, who carried on doing their version of the Macarena, even though the band had stopped.
‘Ow! One of the figures went in my eye!’ complained Rob, as chunks of elaborately decorated chocolate cake fell to the floor.
‘That would be the bride!’ shouted Fleur.
‘You’re overreacting!’
‘You think!’ snapped Fleur as she hastily gathered up the acres of her dress and exited the room with as much flounce as she could muster.
Sunday was a very strange day for Fleur. She awoke in her own bed, in her own bedroom, to the usual sound of birdsong, but this was the last place she had expected to be the morning after her wedding. She pulled the duvet tight around her and had a little weep to herself. She had cried a lot yesterday and now told herself that after this little cry, that was it. Rob simply was not worth it. Despite everything he’d promised, he was never going to stay faithful to her, he was a charmer and charming women was what he did. On top of that, who would decide to leave their new bride only a couple of weeks after the wedding and go off around the world with a band? Especially a band that changed their lead singer virtually monthly, due to what they loosely termed ‘artistic differences’. All the things that she had thought were exciting and made Rob stand out from the others seemed silly today, and she hated the fact that he was dominating her thoughts.
Fleur felt bad for her parents too. She had been waiting for the ‘I told you so’ lecture but it hadn’t been presented yet – and something told her that it wouldn’t be either. She also felt their relief – they were never keen on her boyfriends and Rob was no exception, but this time there was a divorce to sort out. Fleur rubbed her eyes and slid out of bed. At least she could make herself useful, seeing as she wasn’t getting on a plane to Borneo any more.
After her shower she checked her phone. No messages, no missed calls. She’d asked Rob not to get in touch and it looked like he was doing as he’d been told. Fleur pulled on some leggings and a big jumper and made her way out of the house. It was a little chilly as the sky was all clouds today – a mass of painted stripes, aspirin-white on more aspirin-white and a drizzle in the air.
Fleur could hear the noise long before she reached the stables. Of all the ponies and horses Fleur’s family had owned, Ralph was the most demanding. Fleur was a fraction late with his breakfast this morning so he was making his presence known. As she opened the main door the bucket came flying out at head height, narrowly missing her.
‘Ralph!’ she shouted. The small fat Shetland pony stared her down. His big brown eyes full of the devil. He hated having to wait for his breakfast. He snorted and turned around to present Fleur with his particularly large backside.
‘Delightful,’ said Fleur, ‘Morning Clyde,’ she said. Clyde was her oldest love. The heavy head of her horse lolled over his stable door in welcome. ‘Ralph’s in a bad mood,’ she said and Clyde vigorously nodded his agreement. He didn’t, actually, but he always liked to shake his head in a variety of directions first thing in a morning once his stable was open, so it always entertained Fleur to ask him a question.
‘Sorry Clyde,’ she said sneaking him a polo mint. ‘You looked lonely. That was the only reason we got you a stable mate. Shame it turned out to be one with satanic tendencies.’ Fleur wondered if it was because Ralph was so small and Clyde was so big, but eventually she’d come to the conclusion that Ralph’s bad attitude was simply because he was a little bastard.
As it turned out, Clyde would have been far better off being lonely as, from the second he stepped out of the horsebox, Ralph decided he was in charge and proceeded to nip at Clyde’s fetlocks. At any given opportunity Ralph would chase Clyde away and generally make his life a misery, but none of the Van Bentons had the heart to send him back to the rescue centre.
Ralph stamped his hoof in frustration as Fleur hung up his hay bag.
‘Darling, you don’t need to be doing this today,’ said her mother, marching across the yard. ‘I was all set to sort out the boys this morning. You could have had a lie-in.’ She kissed Fleur lightly on the cheek.
‘I’m okay, thanks. I might take Clyde out for a ride.’
‘Good idea, but come and have breakfast first. Poppy will be leaving shortly and she’ll want to see you before she goes.’
‘All right,’ conceded Fleur.
‘Any contact at all from you know who?’
‘He’s
