The Barn on Half Moon Hill (3 page)

But I can't charm you at the moment, can I, my darling?
thought Jacques.

He shrugged his shoulders modestly. ‘Don't ask, don't get,' he said. ‘Which brings me to say: would you like to have lunch with me at The Sun Arms? Nothing flash.
Pie and mash, though I might throw in a tiramisu if you're a good girl.'

Eve opened her mouth to say that she wasn't really hungry then she saw in Jacques's eyes that he suspected she was going to say no. And she really shouldn't turn him down. She
had something important to say to him but couldn't find the words so she had shut him out and it was hurting him. He didn't deserve to be messed around while she took time out to decide
what to do for the best.

‘I'd love to,' she said. And saw the relief flooding into his eyes.

‘Big day tomorrow then,' said Becky, tossing her newly highlighted locks over her shoulder. ‘You're seeing your
boyfriend again. You must introduce
us.'

‘I will, if he can see me in the crowds,' replied Cariad, trying to hold onto the contents of her stomach. Oh, why had she said that stupid thing all those months ago? If she
hadn't, she would be looking forward to a night sleepless with excitement and not fear, and tomorrow would have been one of the best days of her life, seeing Franco at last, up close and
personal. If only she hadn't been so impulsive with her money, she could have bought herself a nice flat and she wouldn't have had to share with these two horrors. But then everyone was
wiser in retrospect, as her da always said.

Lacey was sitting at the kitchen table, trying, and failing, not to giggle. Both she and Becky were taking the day off tomorrow to go to Winterworld and Cariad knew they were more interested in
seeing her humiliation than they were at waving at Franco Mezzaluna. Cariad had considered going home to Dolgellau, just disappearing before tomorrow came. But then The Missus, as everyone called
Eve, had asked if she'd like to be introduced to Franco when he did his rounds of the park. Could Cariad really miss the opportunity to meet the man who had occupied her heart all these
years? Could she turn down the chance of staring into his blue, blue eyes? Even if those eyes would pass over her, not having a clue who she was. It was looking more and more likely that none of
her letters had ever reached him, despite her always feeling that they had. Her instincts had obviously tricked her.

‘Wesley was asking after you,' said Becky, causing Lacey to snort with barely contained derision.

‘Was he now?' replied Cariad, hoping Becky wouldn't see her hands shaking as she buttered a slice of bread.

‘I think you should give him another chance.'

‘Oh, he's nice is Wesley.' Lacey gave an exaggerated sigh as if Wesley were a sex-bomb.

‘No thanks,' said Cariad, as politely as she could. ‘I'd rather stick a fork in my eyeball.'

‘Yeah, well, if you're used to hanging around with Franco Mezzaluna, I suppose he might come up a bit short,' said Becky. Lacey didn't even bother trying to hide her
sniggering then.

The words were out before Cariad could stop them. ‘Yes, you're right there, Becky. Once you've had Franco Mezzaluna snogging the face off you, having Wesley Threlgood trying to
stuff his tongue down your throat isn't much of a treat.'

Oh, God, Cariad Williams, why the bloody 'ell did you say that?
she thought.

She snatched up the slice of bread and butter and marched into her bedroom, trying to get away from the reprimanding voice in her head as much as from the nasty ridiculing laughter of her
flat-mates, whose horrible faces she wouldn't see ever again after tomorrow, she'd decided. They'd make her life hell when Franco Mezzaluna ignored her so she would have to go
home to Wales. Even if it was with her tail between her legs.

The lagoon was beautiful and ready to be revealed to the general public. They would love it, thought Eve. It had cost a small fortune to build but standing there, looking at
it, she knew they had been right to invest.

They'd found a natural spring at the side of the Christmas-tree forest and had dug it out to allow the water to flow. Around it, Effin's men had constructed the fake crumbling walls
to make it look like an ancient fairy palace caught up in an eternal winter. It consisted of two zones, the deep central swimming area, which was inexplicably naturally much warmer than it should
have been, and the shallow area, where specially chosen plants now thrived and acted as a natural filtration. It looked as if it had been there for hundreds of years. They had called it Lady
Evelyn's Lake, after Eve's beloved aunt who had commissioned Winterworld. On the original plans, the old lady had outlined where she would have put the lake that she never got to swim
in herself. Eve had made sure that it was everything her water-loving aunt would have wanted – and more.

Effin was in a flap, as usual, though there was nothing to get heated about. At least there wasn't until Thomas the engine driver had told him that he thought the train was running slow.
That was all the excuse he needed to go off on one. And he wasn't happy about all the security guards who were milling around, muttering into communication gadgets as if they were straight
off the
Men in Black
film set. One of them was eyeing up his niece like a dog with a bone and Effin could feel all the hairs on the back of his neck rising. If Mr Security so much as
touched his darling girl, no matter what James Bond-type tools he might have hidden about his person, he'd still find his nuts in a vice.

Eve waved over to Cariad. She'd liked the young Welshwoman immensely. She was always pleasant with everyone and so pretty with her dark curly hair and big brown eyes. Eve thought she
looked like the ballerina in a jewellery box she once had, with her long neck and slim graceful limbs. But, oh my, what was going on inside Cariad's head today? Her lovely eyes were full of
tears.

‘Cariad, what's the matter?' Eve asked, concerned.

‘Oh, I'm fine,' replied Cariad, sniffing. ‘I'm just a bit over-awed. I've got a bit of a thing about Franco Mezzaluna. Nervous, I am.'

Eve gave her arm a comforting squeeze because she was much too short to put an arm around the willowy Cariad's shoulder. She didn't want to see the girl upset by the prospect of
meeting the hot Hollywood star; it was meant to be a treat for her, not an ordeal.

‘I only hope that Franco doesn't fall in love with you as soon as he sees you,' Eve said with a smile. ‘I'm not sure we could cope with losing you.'

That didn't stop Cariad's tears at all – if anything they started flowing faster.

Then the sound of a tinny voice came through the walkie-talkie of a nearby security guard: Mr Mezzaluna's car was at the gates. He had arrived.

‘I don't think you've got much chance of that,' gulped Cariad.

The gates opened and crowds gushed into Winterworld, ready to see Franco. The security guards herded them forwards safely between the barriers, allowing no running, no crowding
or pushing. ‘The stage is elevated, everyone will see him,' they said over and over again, but they knew they'd have trouble on their hands if everyone suddenly broke ranks and
tried to swarm the Hollywood heart-throb.

Even Jacques had to admit that Franco Mezzaluna was a stunning-looking man. And boy had he dressed for the occasion! A Hugo Boss bespoke summer-blue suit and a shirt which was whiter than
anything that the snow machines of Winterworld could spray out. He oozed class. And he was charm personified too. He'd emerged from his car with a huge smile and his hand outstretched ready
to shake. Franco's spiky male PA Logan had made some hurried introductions, because this really was a flash visit, he reminded everyone, and they'd already been held up firstly by fans
blocking the road and then by Franco, who had insisted on getting out of the car and signing as many autographs as he could while posing for selfies with people before Logan forced him back into
the limo. Jacques was surprised to find that Franco was the same height as himself – head and shoulders above most people. He had met a couple of film stars in the past, during his work for
Help for Heroes, and they turned out to be much smaller in real life than they appeared on the big screen. But Mr Mezzaluna was a very tall, strapping young man. Jacques, who always prided himself
on being an excellent judge of character, got a good vibe from him.

Eve looked around for Cariad, so she could present her to the film star, but she had strangely vanished.
How could she pick this time to disappear?
she thought. Even after she and
Jacques had spent time in front of the TV cameras and the reporters, posing for photos with the drop-dead-gorgeous star, there was still no sign of Cariad.

‘Can I get you anything, Mr Mezzaluna?' asked Eve, as Franco appeared to be looking around him for something – or someone.

‘No, I, er . . . I'm okay, thank you.'

‘We wanted to give you lunch but your office said you had no time,' said Jacques.

Franco narrowed his eyes slightly in the direction of Logan. Yes, he did have time, and he was actually ravenous. Logan needed to climb out of his own ass sometimes. He always presumed that
Franco wouldn't want to mix with the general public and made excuses for him too often. Lunch with these good people at the side of that beautiful lake would have been very acceptable.

‘I have a pretty intense schedule,' said Franco, trotting out the standard excuse with a sad sigh. ‘You don't happen to know if . . .?'

‘Franco, this way please.' Cameras snapped at him.

‘I'm afraid we need to be heading to the stage,' said the string-thin Logan with a very commanding voice, tapping his watch with an insistent finger.

Franco allowed himself to be led forwards with an entourage of cameramen loping in his wake. He had more than done his duty for the park, who had got some fantastic shots of him posing by the
lake. He'd even jumped on the Nutcracker Express train, where the driver Thomas got his autograph on a teddy bear and a photo of them both together for his wife Eunice.

Cariad stood on the front row at the side of the stage. She knew that he wouldn't see her among everyone else, even with her bright pink top and headband on, because he wouldn't be
looking for her. What she didn't plan on was finding that Lacey and Becky had been among the first in the queue to get in and had weaved and pushed their way over to her. Even worse, they had
Aaron and Josh in tow.

‘Have you seen him yet then?' asked Lacey. ‘I thought he'd have autographed your chest by now.'

‘Don't be daft,' said Becky. ‘He hasn't a frigging clue who she is.'

Cariad's cheeks flushed bright red and then, as if someone had pulled a massive plug out of them, all the blood drained away and they went quickly white because the crowds were starting to
scream and shout and cheer as Franco Mezzaluna, Eve and Jacques walked onto the stage.

‘Jesus, he is gorgeous,' said Becky as Lacey bounced excitedly at the side of her.

‘Hey, everyone,' shouted Franco, waving at the crowd and taking a microphone from Jacques' hand. ‘Hello, Yorkshire! Hello, Winterworld!'

He wasn't just gorgeous, he was beautiful. Like a god. Cariad wanted to cry.

On the stage, Franco swept his eyes across the ocean of faces. The adulation was almost tangible.

She's somewhere near
, a voice inside his head rapped on his brain. He knew she was here. She would have made sure she was here today, she wouldn't have missed seeing him for
anything, of that he was certain. He knew what she smelled like because her letters were perfumed with her scent and he was sure he caught a note of it as a rogue breeze rippled past him.

‘I'm not here for long, guys, but I am so glad I came to see this beautiful park you have. And that lake – boy, you are all in for a treat.'

Find her.

‘Can't believe he hasn't leapt off the stage and started humping you,' sniggered Lacey into Cariad's ear as Franco charmed everyone. Even Effin, at the other side
of the stage, had a dopey look on his face, as if he'd fallen in love with the handsome actor.

Cariad knew she had to get out of there. She could cut through the crowds and no one would stop her because it would allow people to move forward a place. She could be back at the house and out
again with all her worldly belongings by the time the others got home. She would go to the train station and be home in Dolgellau by nightfall.

Franco's eyes cruised the many faces upturned to him, as if expecting to see one surrounded by flashing arrows, but nothing leapt out at him.

Then there was one of those inexplicable split-second moments where everything seems to hush except for one voice.

‘Aren't you going to shout to your boyfriend, Cariad?'

A snipey, shrill voice. He knew instantly from what he had read about them in her letters that it had to be either Becky or Lacey. It came from the side of him, right at the front. Sure enough
there were two blondes wearing twisted smiles bookending a dark-haired woman with the eyes of a hunted deer and wearing a pink top and a pink hairband.

I'll be wearing a pink top and a pink hairband.

It had to be
her
.

Cariad was thinking that if there were no trains that night, she would take a hotel room near the station and travel out on the first one tomorrow morning.

‘Oh, my God, Cariad. You came.' Franco marched to the edge of the stage and bent down.

Cariad was still pondering on travel plans and it took her brain a ridiculously long time to catch up with her eyes. Franco Mezzaluna was less than two feet away and bending down to her and
STARING RIGHT INTO HER FACE.

‘Jesus Christ.' This from Lacey. Cariad could have sworn she heard the physical thump of her jaw hitting the ground.