Juno had only once been to Clementine’s restaurant before, when Fraser had surprised and delighted her by making a booking for the pair of them to celebrate their wedding anniversary the first year they’d moved down from Aberdeen and into the house in Westenbury. The evening, to which Juno had so looked forward and for which she’d bought a ridiculously expensive dress she couldn’t really afford, had gone steadily downhill when her mother-in-law had arrived unannounced from Scotland in pursuit of a rare Cleveland Bay stallion in nearby Dewsbury and descended, horsebox and all, just as the babysitter had arrived, insisting she’d have a quick wash and brush up and join them for their meal. Fraser and his mother had spent the evening complaining about the tiny portions and ridiculous expense of the meal and Juno had wanted to cry.
‘Where’s Pandora? Is she OK?’ Izzy made her way straight over as Juno was directed into the Orangery by one of Clem’s helpers. Izzy had a mouthful of canapé, as well as another delicious looking morsel in one hand and a large glass of champagne in the other. ‘God, these are fantastic.’ Izzy chewed and swallowed, closing her eyes in ecstasy. ‘I’ve been on a diet all day just so I could pig out on these tonight. And Ariadne? Is she not with you either?’ Izzy glanced over Juno’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow as well as her glass of champagne as she noticed that Juno wasn’t accompanied by either of her sisters.
‘I don’t think Pandora will make it here now,’ Juno said, accepting her own glass of fizz while simultaneously trying to work out where Scott was in the room. ‘She’s terribly upset that her dream of Westenbury being in all the papers as the winner of the village choir competition has been totally kyboshed. You know what she’s like. She sets herself such high standards, such high expectations of everything she attempts, and this has been a real kick in the teeth for her. I’ve actually never seen Pandora cry before – well I don’t think I have, apart from maybe at Hugo’s christening – and she wept buckets tonight.’
‘It’s not such a big deal, is it?’ Izzy frowned, obviously trying to put herself in Pandora’s shoes.
‘It is to Pandora. She feels totally humiliated, let down by us all.’
‘Well, that’s just daft. It was just a bit of fun, not the end of the world.’
‘To say you’re a doctor, you don’t have a great deal of empathy, Izzy.’ Juno felt cross on her sister’s behalf.
‘A bit unfair, that.’ Izzy frowned. ‘I empathised totally with Mrs Jackson this morning when she told me that now Mr Jackson has discovered Viagra, she doesn’t have a minute to herself to listen to the Archers…’
‘Pandora not come back with you?’ Scott was suddenly at Juno’s side and she smiled up at him, delighted not only that he was here and had come to find her, but also grateful that he’d interrupted the conversation between herself and Izzy. Much as she loved Izzy, her friend did have a flippant side that, on occasions like now, when Juno was feeling upset at Pandora’s obvious, and what had been quite shocking distress, was not only inappropriate, but, frankly, grated.
Izzy, frowning slightly at Scott, moved away in search of more entertaining company and, as she did so, Scott smiled down at Juno. She considered throwing caution to the wind by putting her arm on his – she really wanted to wrap her arms and legs around his waist and feel his warmth and inhale his maleness that, while in London, she’d made her own – but knew to keep her distance. Tongues from the chattering classes in a village like Westenbury would soon be going ten-to-the dozen if it was rumoured that the new dishy locum was having it off with his – married – colleague.
‘Ariadne has driven back home with her. She said she’d wait with her until Richard returned from his meeting and then come back down and join us if she can.’ Juno shook her head. ‘I’ve never seen Pandora like that before.’
‘She’s seen her dream in tatters,’ Scott said. ‘What do you expect?’
Juno finally allowed her eyes to meet his. God, but he was gorgeous. She felt a bolt of lust go through her as he returned the stare and it was all she could do not to reach up and touch his face. ‘Oh,’ she suddenly realised, ‘you’re hurt…’
‘Jesus had a pretty good right hook,’ he grinned. ‘One landed as I was trying to get him off Philip Braithwaite.’
‘You’re going to have a black eye in the morning.’
‘Yep, looks like it. Juno, did anyone ever tell you, you have the most wonderful mouth?’
Juno shook her head. ‘No, I can’t say anyone ever has.’
‘Well, I’m telling you now, it’s infinitely kissable. Just looking at it makes me—’
‘OK, everyone, if I could just have a word?’ Clementine Ahern moved to where the drinks were laid out. ‘Thank you so much for coming over this evening – and obviously a lot earlier than anticipated.’ She looked round the Orangery. ‘Is Pandora here? Sally? No? Look, I know Pandora’s not here, but I don’t see why this has to be the end of the road for the production. I’ve really enjoyed the rehearsals so far, loved every minute and all that’s down to Pandora. I think we all appreciate just how hard she’s worked to get this show on the road. Surely, we’re not going to let it all go to waste? We just need one new Jesus? Is that too much to ask?’
‘Our Granville’ll do it!’ Janice Winterbottom shouted from the back of the room. ‘He’s wanted to be Jesus all along.’
‘Oh, heaven help us,’ Izzy muttered in Juno’s ear. ‘Granville Winterbum as the Almighty? He’s only four-foot-six, and bald as a coot.’
‘He can wear a wig,’ Juno said, trying not to laugh. Izzy might be flippant but she still knew how to amuse.
‘He’d have to borrow Janice’s heels,’ Izzy said, seriously considering. She linked Juno’s arm in her own as they stood listening to Clementine. ‘Sorry, if I was a bit, you know, not overly sympathetic,’ she whispered. ‘Pandora has been an absolute trooper; she doesn’t deserve what happened this evening.’
‘No, she doesn’t. Maybe Clem’s right and we can carry on…?’
‘Lexia. Your Lexia?’ Izzy whispered, rather more loudly now so that those around turned to hear what she was saying.
‘As Jesus? Erm? Wrong sex?’
‘Hey, times is hard. Beggars can’t be choosers. And actually, maybe we could gain points by being gender-fluid?’ Izzy laughed and then tutted. ‘No, not Jesus, you daft thing. As Mary Magdalene? It’s not a huge part. I don’t know how to lo-ove him…’ Izzy sang, so out of tune Juno wondered for a second whether throwing in the towel on the whole production wasn’t the best thing after all. ‘We need to get Lexia Sutherland,’ Izzy now shouted to the room. ‘Clem, we need to get Lexia on board as Mary Magdalene. Anyone can camp it up as Herod,’ she went on. ‘And if Granville will be Jesus – we can always find him a ladder – then we’re back in business.’
‘Shh,’ Juno tutted, torn between wanting to laugh at the image of Granville Winterbottom singing up a ladder and worry that, knowing both Pandora’s and Lexia’s stance on Lexia taking part in the production, Izzy’s putting Lexia forward as a third of the answer to their problems, would never come to fruition.
‘Yes, come on, Juno. Lexia’s your sister for heaven’s sake,’ someone yelled.
‘And Pandora’s,’ another shouted. ‘If the pair of you want to save the production, Lexia’s going to have to help.’
‘OK, OK,’ Juno protested, when all eyes turned towards her. ‘I’ll see what I can do. I’m not promising, though; Lexia doesn’t sing at all in public these days.’
‘Right, shall we move on?’ Clementine, seeing Juno was embarrassed, raised a glass. ‘I’ve invited you all here tonight to celebrate Rafe’s big birthday. He didn’t want any reminder that he was getting any older…’
‘The grey hairs are doing that all by themselves,’ Rafe Ahern laughed, stroking a newly acquired, slightly grey beard.
‘… but I couldn’t let the occasion go without a bit of a do.’ Clem smiled in the direction of her husband. ‘I’m sure most of you know the danger Rafe puts himself in every time he sets off once again to report on the terrible things that are happening in the Middle East and particularly Syria. The minute he’s back I can breathe again.’ She paused. ‘Rafe, I love you. I love everything about you: your humility, your empathy with those who are suffering…’ She broke off, unable to go on. ‘But most of all I love you because you love me, and have taken on Allegra, loving her as much as our own daughter, Lucinda. Sorry, Rafe, I’m embarrassing you now. Can we all just raise a glass to Rafe? Happy Birthday, darling.’
Would anyone ever look at her in the way Rafe Ahern was looking at – and now kissing – Clem? Juno thought sadly. Certainly, Fraser never had.
‘I need some air, Juno,’ Scott was saying at her side. ‘Come with me?’
With Izzy stuck into the champagne once more and discussing at length with Clem and Harriet Westmoreland how the production could be saved, Juno felt it safe to leave the orangery in Scott’s wake. The March night was cold and Juno shivered as the fresh air hit her. Once outside, Scott pulled her into the warmth of his arms and, winding his fingers through her hair, brought her mouth to his own, kissing her gently and then, as she responded, with more urgency.
‘I’ve been thinking about you all day,’ Scott breathed into her neck, his hands warm under Juno’s best cashmere sweater.
Juno laughed, loving the intimacy, the warmth of his body in contrast to the cold Spring night. ‘What? Even when you were examining someone’s bunions?’
‘Especially then,’ Scott laughed. He stroked her face, looking directly into her eyes. ‘I don’t suppose you can come back home with me after this? I have an almost overwhelming need to remind myself of all your delicious bits and pieces.’
‘No, much as I’d like to help you with that, my children are waiting for me at home. Mum’s babysitting again, so I can’t be too late.’
‘It’s enough to be with you here, Juno,’ Scott said, his voice serious. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done to me…’ He pulled her closer and kissed her again, his hands moving firmly over her bottom as he teased her tongue and lips with his own.
‘This feels so heavenly,’ she breathed, kissing him back as he gently pushed her up against the outside wall of the restaurant. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever…’
‘Juno?’ Izzy stared, taking in the situation, for once lost for words. ‘Need to get off home,’ she said quickly, handing her car keys to Declan who was a few steps behind her, seemingly equally perplexed at the sight of his two colleagues wrapped round each other. ‘Robbie’s just phoned to say Emily’s suddenly arrived back from university for some reason. Well, goodnight. See you both at work.’
‘Bugger,’ Juno hissed, pulling fingers through her hair and beaming like the village idiot at Izzy and Declan in an attempt to portray nonchalance, and that she and Scott were simply in the process of taking a breath of fresh air while discussing how best to cascade the information gleaned at the weekend’s conference rather than anything more defamatory. Izzy and Declan hurried off in the direction of the carpark without a backward glance and Juno closed her eyes, imagining full well their conversation once they were in the car and driving back home.
‘I’m sorry.’ Scott pulled a face. ‘That’s the last thing you need.’
‘I need?’ Juno pulled her own face. ‘What about you?’
‘I’m not the one with a husband,’ Scott said gently, wiping a smudge of mascara from underneath Juno’s lashes. ‘But Juno,’ he added, as they walked back towards the restaurant, ‘I so wish you didn’t have.’ He allowed Juno to walk into the Orangery alone, as if, to any one observing, she had simply been out to the restroom and, a few minutes later, he headed for the bar, alone.
Bloody hell, Juno, what do you think you’re playing at? Scott Butler is the biggest womaniser out,
Izzy.
Bloody hell, Juno, as soon as you get this message, ring me. Pandora’s just told me everything,
Ariadne.
*
Covered with embarrassment that both Izzy and Declan had caught her snogging the new locum up against the wall in Clementine’s garden, Juno had left immediately she received the text from Ariadne, telling Scott something had come up and she had to leave and no, thank you, she didn’t need him to leave with her. He’d given her a strange look – probably thinking it was Fraser who’d texted her – and turned back to the bar, ordering another beer while she’d gathered her things and made a dash over to Pandora’s.
She’d been met with a sobbing Pandora, a grim-faced Ariadne and Richard who didn’t seem to quite know what to do. He’d let her into the kitchen where Ariadne and Pandora were sat over a bottle of gin, suggested she’d probably need a drink too and left the room, returning with one of Pandora’s best crystal wedding-present glasses. Then he’d told her to get stuck in, Helen had already agreed to stay another hour with Gabe and Tilda and he’d pay for a taxi to get her home as soon as they told her everything that would, very probably, be soon splashed all over the tabloids.