Bridget had thought about biding her time. It might seem obvious if she called Hartley straight after Scotland. But then why would he ever connect her with what had happened? She hadn’t spoken to him since their split and as he was no doubt angry with Lucy it could be the perfect time to strike.
News of his break-up had spread like wildfire. No one really knew what had happened, but Bridget was quick to tell them that she had heard an appalling rumour – that Lucy had secretly called a member of the paparazzi and asked him to take photos of her and Hartley on their romantic break. Rumour also had it, Bridget told them in hushed tones, that she had struck a deal to pocket half the profits from the sale of the pictures. Perhaps her magazine job didn’t pay enough to keep her in this season’s Chanel, she wondered aloud in front of a group of girls.
‘Of course, this could all be nonsense,’ she told them, ‘but it came from a very good friend.’
Bridget’s crowd assumed she meant Claudia, who had been on the fateful trip to Scotland. Eager to sound just as well informed, they told her they had heard something similar. Before the weekend was out, everyone was talking about Lucy’s terrible betrayal.
Bridget decided that phoning Hartley might seem a little odd but bumping into him accidentally on purpose was a stroke of genius. It was all so easy given that Hartley was such a creature of habit.
She remembered how he would visit Columbia Road flower market in East London most Sundays. He would buy dozens of bouquets for his Foundation, to scatter around the place and cheer people up when they came there for help. Bless him, darling Hartley. Quite the sweetheart. Bridget wondered what kind of flowers she would like for their wedding. Lilies, perhaps – all white and pristine.
She also made a calculated guess that Hartley would visit the market that very Sunday. She knew how his mind worked. When he planned a weekend away he always made sure he was back in London by Sunday afternoon, to prepare for work at his charity. And when he was upset he would do anything to keep his mind active. So it stood to reason he would keep to his flower-buying routine.
She had sat waiting in a café for over an hour before she spotted him picking out roses from a stall. She had chosen a simple midnight-blue cotton shift dress from Whistles, teamed with a matching mohair cardigan, and toned down her make-up – instead of the bright-red lipstick she normally favoured, she had gone for a nude gloss. She wanted to appear as Earth Mother as possible, his friend in his hour of need. She had decided against wearing couture – it was the East End, after all, hardly Chelsea. She couldn’t resist her dark blue Louboutin heels, though, which completed the look: understated but sexy.
‘Hartley, darling. Hello!’
The Earl of Balmyle spun round and froze. After what seemed an age, he spoke. ‘Bridget. What a surprise. How are you?’
‘Oh, you know, same old. Just buying some flowers to cheer Mummy up. She’s not been terribly well.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. Nothing serious, I hope.’
Mother had recovered from the flu weeks ago, but Hartley need not know that, she told herself as she looked at the ground forlornly. ‘Oh I’m sure she will be fine… You have to keep positive.’
Hartley smiled at Bridget, who beamed back at him.
‘God, it’s good to see you, Hartley.’
‘Thanks, Bridget, you too. Listen, I have to be getting along.’
Bridget looked crestfallen. ‘Oh I was hoping you would join me for a coffee to warm up a little?’ Noting Hartley looked unconvinced, she put on her best wounded expression. ‘What happened was an age ago. I’d like to be friends.’
Hartley took Bridget in. She seemed different, softer somehow. Hell, it was a long time ago and he was the one who had ended it. He hadn’t thought too highly of her by the end but it was rather decent of her to be so charming. The least he could do was to be civil. It was, after all, only coffee.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Just let me get these and I’m all yours.’
Yes, Bridget thought as she smiled sweetly back at him: you will be all mine. She had removed Lucy from the picture, making Hartley believe she had betrayed him.
Now she had walked back into Hartley’s life, she was there to stay.