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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

Sunday's Child (27 page)

BOOK: Sunday's Child
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He grinned. “Then you'd best snap to it. I've got my outfit organized.”

She laughed. “Your uniform, I hope.”

“Now I need to find something else,” he moaned, poking his tongue out at her.

Hattie laughed. “If you're going to be a diva, perhaps you'd better wear a dress and carry a handbag.”

“Not unless it's pink,” he retorted.

She laughed so hard, she could hardly reply. “The bag or the dress?”

“Both.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I like seeing the ring on the right hand now.”

“That's my left hand and it's been there a while. You just haven't noticed.” He'd bought her a replacement one. The original having never turned up. She assumed it had gone down with the boat.

“Oh, I noticed. I notice everything about you.” He kissed her, slowly at first, then deeper, warming her entire body, until she was sure she glowed. He broke off and leaned his forehead against hers. “Do you think you could live here?”

“Nowhere else I'd rather be.”

“People are arriving.” Aunt Laurie's voice washed over them. “You two need to come inside and change.”

 

****

 

Hattie smoothed her long pale green dress down, wondering if it were too much. She'd bought a strip of raffle tickets, but knew the chances of her winning Cal were remote to say the least. As much as she'd like that, she half hoped Miss Wright, the wheelchair-bound oldest church member, would win him. He at least would make sure she felt like the only woman in the room at the tea dance.

It seemed as if the whole island were there. She stood in front of the microphone and looked out over the packed hall. People from the mainland had come too, representatives from the rail company, the media and the RNLI head office as well. Even the local Member of Parliament was there somewhere. Did she look as nervous as she felt?

So long as she could get through this without throwing up. She hated public speaking. She always had.

“Thank you—” The microphone howled and she paused whilst they adjusted the sound level. “Thank you all for coming. It's been a wonderful week, with a lot of different things going on. I've had a lot of fun, and I hope you all did too. Tonight should be fun as well. The raffle and auction will be taking place after we eat. Even if you don't win a date with one of our—can I call them prizes?” She smiled at the response she got.

She held out a hand and gestured for them to stand. “Actually, can our prizes stand up?” The clapping grew louder as all three watches of the lifeboat and shore crew stood, along with all the footballers. Hattie waited until it died down before she continued. “The raffle is being sponsored by the Palladium and all the ‘dates' will be at special tea dance coming up at the end of the month. If you don't win a date tonight, and have always fancied a tea dance, Mr. Sanderson, from the Palladium has said that you just need to bring your raffle ticket along at any of the tea dances in January, February, or March next year and he will let you and a partner in free. Mr. Sanderson, could you stand please?”

He stood to more applause.

Hattie paused again to wait for the clapping to die down. She wondered if reading the weather forecast would garner the same response right now. She was half tempted just to try it and see.

“And now, before we begin properly, I have one more very important announcement to make. Can I extend a special welcome to Trevor? Not back to active duty yet, but home from the hospital and the proud father of a bouncing baby girl born at four-fifteen this morning, weighing in at nine pounds fifteen ounces. Mum and baby doing fine. Dad's going home for his last night's sleep in a while after this.”

She grinned. “He's also agreed to be raffled and thinks by hiding at the back I won't see him. Trevor, on your feet.”

More applause filled the room as a beetroot red Trevor stood, waved and then sat down again.

“All that's left for me to do is to say I hope you have a pleasant evening, enjoy the food and the company. Pastor Kenny will give thanks for the food and then the staff will serve it.”

She made her way to her table and slipped into her seat, blushing at the attention. She slid a hand into Cal's. His family and Laurie sat with them.

Pastor Kenny stood and gave the blessing.

As the food arrived, Carter grinned over at Hattie. “I hear you planned the menus and gave the hotel staff your recipes?”

“Yeah.” She took a small bite, hoping the chef hadn't added anything. She'd been careful not to include anything that could set off Cal's allergies.

“She's being modest,” Cal said. “She designed the dishes herself. The hot trifle is a particular favorite of mine.”


Hot
trifle?” Carter and Jess chorused at the same time.

Hattie laughed. “That's exactly what Cal said the first time he was given it.”

Cal nodded. “Trust me, it's peng, you'll love it.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “Peng? That's what my class of teenagers say all the time.”

Jim Trant, Cal's father, frowned. “And what is peng when it's at home?”

“It used to be wicked when I was their age. Then it became cool. Then sick and now peng.”

Jim shook his head. “What's wrong with using proper English? In my day…”

Cal kept his face straight and looked his father in the eyes. “We know, Dad. When you were young, several hundred years ago, you said spiffing, ace, brill, super and wore shorts even in the middle of winter. Not to mention got the bus to work, bought dinner, a new suit, took Mum to a dance and still had change from a fiver.”

Jim glared at him over his fork. “Now then you young whippersnapper…”

Carter picked up his glass, stuck his little finger out, and put on an affected accent. “I say old chap, don't forget the jolly hockey sticks and the fact that Great Britain used to close all day on a Sunday and again on a Wednesday afternoon. The whole country has gone to the dogs since they stopped doing that.”

“Well, we would go to the dogs if we didn't have to go to work,” Cal finished.

The whole table burst out laughing. Hattie loved the way they all teased each other, but there was never any malice in it. Her hope was one day she and Steve could have a relationship like Cal's family did.

The main course arrived. Hattie became even more nervous. The special guest Cal had promised hadn't yet arrived. “What if he isn't coming?”

“He'll be here, love. Maybe the traffic is bad.” Cal's phone beeped and he glanced at the message. “He's here. Is he sitting with us?”

“Yes, hence the empty place at the table.”

“And there I was thinking you'd had one laid for the Unseen Guest,” Laurie said.

“That too. It's also why our table is right at the back. So your mystery man stays a secret a little longer.”

“Clever woman.” Cal stood. “Come meet him, love.”

“Excuse me.” She stood and took Cal's hand, walking with him to the lobby.

A tall dark-skinned man, shining eyes and no hair stood there. She caught her breath recognizing him instantly. Surely, she was wrong. It couldn't be…

He moved forward and enveloped Cal in a massive bear hug, almost sweeping him off his feet. “Cal, my man, how are you?”

“I'm good, Kev. How are you?”

“Training, running, more training, you know how it goes.” He grinned and then held out a hand to Hattie. “And you must be the woman who finally tamed the ultimate wild boy.”

“I'm trying to.” She took his hand, admiring his firm grip. “Hattie Steele.”

“Kevin Wells.”

A flash of fan girl squee washed over her. It
was
him, the fastest man Britain had ever produced. He was world famous, someone she'd watched race on the TV numerous times, win countless gold medals, and he was standing here shaking her hand, attending the little fundraiser dinner she'd put together.
Wow. Wow. Wow
.

Somehow, she found her voice. “Thank you so much for coming tonight, Mr. Wells.”

“Please, call me Kevin. Mr. Wells is my father. And it's a pleasure to have been invited. I'm sorry I'm late. The traffic was horrid, and it's so windy they were restricting travel on the bridge. They closed it after me. So I'll need a hotel or something tonight. Perhaps I could get a room here.”

“Rot,” Cal said. “Laurie will no doubt insist on you staying with her. And if she doesn't you can stay at mine.” He winked at Hattie. “He and Laurie go way back.”

Kevin grinned, a hint of a blush showing. “Pear trees, wasn't it?”

“Least we started asking after that though.” Cal laughed. “Come on and eat whilst it's still hot. You haven't missed much.”

Hattie watched Kevin talk easily with the others as he ate. Her view of celebrities was radically undergoing a rethink. Like Cal, he wasn't the least bit affected by his fame and talked easily about his life and faith. He teased Jess mercilessly and Hattie knew by the way Jess blushed that she had a huge crush on him. But then that wasn't hard—the guy was gorgeous.

Kevin smiled at her, with perfect white teeth she was instantly jealous of. “So, Hattie, how did you and Cal meet? He wouldn't tell me no matter how many times I asked him.”

“He stayed at a guest house I worked in. We met again when I came to live with Aunt Laurie.”

“You're Laurie's niece? Wow. It really is a small world after all.”

Hattie smiled. “I had no idea Cal worked on the lifeboats until the yacht I was on sank and he turned up to rescue me. The rest, as they say, is history.”

Kevin grinned. “Ah, Cal always was a chick magnet.”

“Chick magnet?” Cal spluttered. “I prefer totally irresistible to women.”

Carter roared with laughter. “Chick magnet.”

“Even at school, the girls were fighting over him in the playground.”

Cal blushed. “Can't help being cute,” he muttered.

“That's ‘Cute', capital C,” Hattie told him. “I was just wondering how you two met. Athletics and football seem a world apart.”

“School,” Kevin told her, still laughing at Cal. “We lived here until I was thirteen then moved to the mainland, but I commuted over the bridge to school every day. I did athletics, Cal did football. We sat next to each other in maths. He'd say ‘when I grow up I want to play football for England.'”

Cal grinned. “And Kev would say ‘I'm going to win gold in the Olympics.' Not only did that, but got the world, commonwealth
and
Olympic records.”

Kevin grinned back. “I may be the fastest man on the planet, but it pales into comparison with what you and your mates do out there each day on the lifeboats.”

Hattie tuned out the conversation as she noticed how the wind howled outside, tossing torrential rain against the windows. Lightning flashed and she counted to fifteen before the answering thunder came. A fair way off, nothing to worry about.

Cal nudged her. “You OK, love? Not spooked by the storm?”

“A little, but I'll be fine.”

“Time you got the ball rolling out there.”

Nodding, she stood and made her way to the mic at the front again. “Wasn't dinner great? Let's show our appreciation for the chef and the staff who cooked and served it.” She paused as applause drowned out the storm outside.

“It's now time for the raffle, so if you've all got your tickets ready…” She grinned as people waved them at her. “Without further ado, I'll get the instructions out of the way first. In this bowl are numbered ping pong balls. Each one corresponds to one of our thirty-five dates. A list of each one and their number will come up on the screen in a second. In the other bowl are all your raffle tickets. In the event of a ‘double date' we'll draw again. Now let me introduce you to our special guests, who'll be doing the draw. First is Carter Trant, current Tour de France champion. Despite the crutches he assures me he can still dance. He'll be drawing the ping pong balls.”

Carter stood and made his way to the front. Once he got on stage he did a twirl. “
Yes, ma'am, I can boogie…
” he sang.

The audience laughed and applauded with delight.

She clapped along with them. “See. And our other special guest, who has also kindly agreed to throw his name into the hat tonight, is current British champion and Olympic one hundred meters gold medalist Kevin Wells. He'll be drawing the raffle tickets.”

She made her way back to her seat as thunder crashed again. She wrapped her arms around her stomach as Kevin and Carter began to speak.

Cal slid an arm around her. “What's up, love?”

“The storm's really bad.”

“Just relax a little. We still have power, and it's just a storm. They happen all winter. Not always with thunder, but wind and rain, yeah.”

Lightning flashed again. Hattie counted silently.
One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one—
She jumped. “That was barely a mile away.”

“You're missing the raffle,” he whispered. “You won't know who you've won.”

“You'd better win me or a little old lady,” Hattie whispered back.

“Ditto.”

“I don't want a little old lady thank you very much.”

He laughed.

Carter got people to stand as their number was called out. He was about half way through when Cal's number came up. Cal stood and grinned at Hattie.

She fingered her blue tickets. The chances of winning anyone was remote, she knew that and had only entered herself because Aunt Laurie had insisted.

Cal did the obligatory twirl, looking very fit in his tux and bow tie.

Kevin reached into the bowl. “And the winner of the dashing Callum Trant is blue—”

A pager went off. Cal reached into his pocket.

Hattie's heart twisted and her stomach sank.
No, not tonight…

BOOK: Sunday's Child
13.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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