Gran laughed. “I think having an aristocrat for a future son-in-law makes up for it. Your father’s walking around like he’s being elevated to the House of Lords.”
Of course my father was making this all about him.
“How do you think they’ll take it when they find out it’s not real?” I asked.
Gran was quiet for a moment, studying my face. Then she said, softly: “Isn’t it real? It looks pretty real to me.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. She was right. The engagement was fake, but the feelings were definitely real. What had started as a lie had, somewhere along the way, become the truest thing in my life.
“You done well, ain’t you, Petey Boy?”
My chest burnt, a blush heating my face.
“He’s amazing, isn’t he?”
Gran laughed. “If they’d built them like that when I was young, my hips would have been completely shattered by the time I was your age.”
“Gran!” Now my face was so red I must have looked like a lobster in the pot.
She slapped my hand. “Don’t become a prude now, just because you landed a toff. You think I don’t know what you used to get up to with boys in the bushes down in Weavers Fields, when you should have been upstairs doing your homework?”
I stared at her, horrified.
“Don’t look so surprised, Petey Boy. I might be old now, but I was young in the swinging sixties.”
I tried to shake off what she’d said. We sat in silence, as the horrors of my misspent teen years came flooding back.
“How’s it gonna work, then, Petey Boy?”
It was the question I’d been avoiding. “I don’t know, Gran.”
“Has he got a place in London?”
I shook my head.
“I thought all the toffs had a big gaff in the West End. Like inUpstairs, Downstairs.”
“William hasn’t been to London for three years.”
“Hasn’t been to London? But it’s the centre of the world.”
I shrugged, not sure how to explain it. “He… seems to think it’s cursed. Or he’s cursed, perhaps.”
Gran threw her head back in disbelief. “You’ll have to fix that, Petey Boy. What kind of future can you have together if he’s scared of your home town?”
The dull ache I’d been ignoring for weeks sharpened. Trust Gran to come right out with the practicalities.
“Oh dear, have I put my foot in it?”
I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed it. “No. You’re right.”
My whole life was in London. Gran, my career, my friends. I belonged in London, and William clearly belonged here. What was I meant to do? Give everything up and move to Buckford?
“You’ll work it out,” Gran said. “If you boys want to be together, you’ll find a way. But I’ll tell you this for free, Petey Boy. The way that lad looks at you, he’s well and truly gone. I mean, he called your old man to get permission to bust me out of prison. He sent your mates to collect me, arranged the train ticket, and he’s given me the nicest room in the house. It’s bigger than the flat where I spent my whole married life. He’s mad for you. What’s more, you’re mad for him. That’s got to count for something.”
“How’d you figure?”
“Because you’re already speaking like a proper toff.”
