Let's Call the Whole Thing Off (13 page)

It sounded idyllic and I hated myself for the pang of jealously I felt. Would I ever find someone to share a bungalow by the sea with? I’d imagined growing old with Ed, not that I could really imagine Ed ever being old, he was far too damned good-looking and smart for that, but I’d never doubted for one moment that he wouldn’t always be there at my side. Only a few days ago Ed was my leading man, cast in the role of Brad to my Angelina. Antony to my Cleopatra. Bob to my Mandy. Only my leading man had run off with the supporting actress and if I ever wanted to have those things Mandy was talking about I’d have to go through that whole excruciating auditioning process once again. I felt like a frumpier, less glamorous version of Jennifer Aniston.

‘I’ve got a two-week holiday in the Maldives going begging if you’re interested? Flight departing this Saturday.’

‘Your honeymoon?’ Mandy winced as she said the words.

‘Yes. It’s all paid for. Seems a shame to waste it.’

Mandy chuckled and shook her head wryly, as though she might actually be considering the offer.

‘Do you know, I like the sound of that! I’ve never been on a plane before, neither has Bob. Mind you, I’d never get him jetting off to the Maldives. He’s not very adventurous like that. He likes his home comforts too much.’

‘Really? You could leave him at home, you know! You and I could go together. Just think of the fun we’d have. We could sit on the beach all day drinking cocktails and then of a night we could go dancing with swarthy muscular young men under moonlit skies. What do you reckon?’

‘I don’t think Bob would be too happy about that! And lovely as it sounds I wouldn’t want to spend that amount of time away from him. I’d miss him too much.’

‘That’s so lovely,’ I said, feeling my eyes fill with emotion. Mandy clearly didn’t need any grand gestures or wildly exotic holidays. Or heady nights spent with virile young men who were put on earth for the sole purpose of taking your mind of your ex. But Mandy didn’t have anybody or anything she needed to forget. Unlike me. She was happy with what she had. As long as Bob was at her side then she had everything she wanted in life. If only my life could be that simple. ‘Ahh, to think that you’d turn down the trip of a lifetime to the Maldives to stay here with Bob. That’s just so lovely.’

‘Oh, you are a daft thing, Anna.’ Mandy laughed. ‘You’re looking at me as though I hold the answer to love and the universe. It isn’t like that. Bob and I have both had our share of heartbreak over the years, but that’s life, isn’t it?’

I resisted the urge to break into song.

‘We’re just lucky that we got to have a second chance at love. We want to spend every moment that we can together. And if all of this doesn’t work out with your fiancé, then you’ll get your second chance at love too, Anna. I know at the moment that probably seems unlikely but when you get over this little blip there will be a different kind of future for you, a better future.’

‘A little blip?’

‘Oh, I don’t mean to trivialise what you’re going through. I don’t mean that at all. I just want you to know that however hard it seems at the moment you will get through this, one way or the other, and then you’ll come out the other side stronger.’

‘You reckon?’

Mandy nodded enthusiastically.

‘Absolutely. Either you can let this business drag you down or else you can put it to one side and get on with the rest of your life.’

Hadn’t Neil said something very similar?

‘Hmm, yeah, I suppose you’re right. And I have got two weeks in the Maldives to look forward to. Every cloud, and all that. You’re still not tempted to come with me, then?’

When Mandy laughed her whole face lit up, banishing the weariness from her features.

‘Oh, if I was ten years younger, then I might think about it. But no, my priority is here with Bob. And honestly you wouldn’t want me with you. I’d cramp your style. If you’re not going to get married then you should take a friend. Or what about your mum? Or that lad you mentioned … Ben?’

What friend? Sophie was definitely in the ex-friend category. And as far as Mum was concerned I could probably manage a long weekend in Blackpool, but any longer than that and we’d be both be on very dangerous ground. And Ben? My heart melted every time I thought of him. He’d been totally lovely about the whole dancing-around-naked-in-his-bedroom incident. Even if it caused me to go hot and sweaty every time I thought of it, but I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to look him in the eye again, let alone spend a fortnight in the Maldives with him.

‘Ah, don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll find someone to come with me.’ Because of course there was a long queue of people able to up sticks at a moment’s notice and disappear to the other side of the world. That was assuming I’d even be able to transfer Ed’s ticket and hotel booking into someone else’s name.

Still, I didn’t really care. Even if the wedding was off, the holiday would go ahead as planned. And if that meant going on my own, then that would be absolutely fine too.

‘Listen, Anna, take my number.’ She gave me a business card and I turned it over in my hands.
The Rocky Road Café for breakfast, lunches, afternoon teas. Hollisea 665532.
‘And write your number down on here for me. Just in case, eh?’ She handed me a pen and I did as I was told.

In case of what? I wondered, as I left the café. In case Dave the import/export man turned out to be a serial killer after all? Or in case I got so depressed about having no one to go to the Maldives with that I did something silly like jump off the end of the pier? Either way, it was reassuring to know that Mandy had my number.

Chapter Nine

Running away was exhausting. It must have had something to do with all the emotional trauma I’d been through over the last couple of days but my whole body ached with weariness. Well, it was either that or the sea air. Or the fact that I’d eaten so many carbohydrates and drunk so many units of alcohol that my poor body was having trouble working out what do with them all. Whatever it was I was completely knackered.

After leaving the café I wandered back along the seafront. It was a view I could never imagine tiring of. Looking out to sea it was as if anything was possible. As though the world and the possibilities it offered faded my worries into insignificance. I thought about going for a run along the front to banish my weariness, but it was only a fleeting thought. I’d never been prone to fits of exertion before so I quickly decided not to give into the urge now, not in my delicate state. Besides, I didn’t have my running gear with me. Thinking about it, I didn’t have any running gear full stop. But the thought was there in my head. When I got over this little ‘blip’ I would take up running, despite my lack of sporting prowess in the past, and I would become one of those lean and mean running machines with nicely turned calf muscles and a flat chest, who put in ten miles before breakfast. Yes, I’d join the ranks of those annoyingly smug people. Well, I’d do my best to avoid the flat chest part because my chest, as had been commented upon by Ed and his mates, was one of my better features.

No, all I could manage today was a saunter back to my hotel with my carrier bags and with the promise of a hot date with Dave running around my mind.

***

I slept for five hours solid, my whole afternoon wiped out by a luxuriously fluffy goose quilt. Which in that brief moment when I woke up before I remembered where I was and what I was doing far away from home in a strange bed in a strange room, was one of the better ways I’d ever experienced of waking up after wasting away an afternoon. But then I remembered and a small stab of pain hit at my temples. I turned over and looked at my watch. I’d only intended to have a little nap but somehow it was now 6.00 p.m. Honestly, I would have been more than happy to make an evening of it, plump up my pillows, order room service and watch all the soaps on telly and then maybe a film from the movie channel, but I knew I couldn’t.

Dave was much too nice a guy to mess around, but while last night dinner had seemed like the most marvellous idea anybody had ever had it now seemed like the most terrifying prospect ever. I’d cancel. Easy. Dave would understand. He was a busy man with a busy schedule, I’m sure his plans were always being rearranged. I’d go and meet him, tell him I’d made a mistake and that I wouldn’t be able to go out to dinner after all.

Despite the overwhelming temptation to crawl back under the covers and pull a pillow over my head, I padded into the bathroom and confronted my reflection in the mirror.

‘Ughhh!’ I stuck out my tongue and widened my eyes, trying to rearrange my features into something more recognisable than the pale, wan creature in front of me. In the space of a few days my face had changed. My skin had lost its usual glow, my eyes had taken on a distinctly piggy quality and my mouth had adopted a droop. I smiled, the corners of my mouth turning up unconvincingly.

Make-up should do it. After a shower and a spruce-up, I felt marginally better. Thinking about it, it would be rude to cancel. It was hardly Dave’s fault that my head was all over the place and I didn’t know if I was coming or going, or even who I was at the moment, Anna or Persephone. Looking in the mirror gave no clues. The girl staring back at me was kind of familiar, but not wholly recognisable.

I’d go for one drink, a quick bite to eat, and then I’d make my apologies and leave.

I waited in the foyer for about five minutes, feeling wholly self-conscious in my new dress and shoes. At the last moment I’d realised I didn’t have a coat or cardigan to wear so I’d thrown my denim jacket over the top. It didn’t really go with my softly swishing silk dress and high heels, but I kidded myself it would bridge the smart/casual divide very nicely.

I was ten minutes early but I’d told myself that if Dave didn’t turn up in the next five minutes then I was perfectly within my rights to leave, because despite me being a modern woman and all that, it was an unwritten dating rule that the man should arrive early so as not to keep the woman waiting. And if Dave didn’t know about that rule or if he chose to ignore the rule then clearly we would be wasting our time in spending even an extra minute together.

‘Hello, Perce.’

The warm breath in my ear made me jump. I span round. He wasn’t late. He was early. And standing right in front of me. No chance of escape now.

‘Hello,’ I said, trying to retrieve my voice from somewhere below my knees. He was every bit as gorgeous as I remembered, only much broader and much taller. More gorgeous even. I felt my cheeks tinge red. ‘Hello,’ I repeated, for no good reason, other than to fill the awkward silence sizzling between.

‘You look lovely,’ he said, his gaze sweeping the length of my body. ‘Are you okay?’

I nodded in what I hoped was a coolly sophisticated way. In truth, I felt like a love-struck teenager.

‘Great.’ A smile hovered on his lips. ‘How does Italian sound?’

‘Fantastic, my favourite.’ At least it wasn’t the burger van. Although the way I was feeling that would have sounded just as enticing. Any thoughts of making a quick getaway had completely left my mind.

‘Come on then,’ he said, slipping a hand around my waist. ‘I’ve got a car waiting outside.’

It wasn’t his car or at least not one that he was driving, but a rather nice black car with a driver waiting. Abandoning my earlier resolution not to get into a car with Dave, I allowed myself to be swept outside and into the sleek motor feeling like a film star. I laughed inwardly, thinking about all those ridiculous notions I’d entertained about Dave being an underworld boss. Oh dear! How I’d laugh about all of this in a few years’ time. That time when my fiancé dumped me and it sent me more than a little bit crazy!

Dave was just a regular guy and I had absolutely nothing to worry about. This was going to be the most amazing evening ever, I could just tell. Besides, in for a penny in for a pound. Serial killers didn’t normally travel in packs, did they?

‘How did you know about this place?’ I asked, twenty minutes later when we’d been ushered in through the doors of the trattoria and shown to a table at the back of the room. Dave ordered a bottle of Prosecco, which was a bit spooky as that just so happened to be my drink of choice at the moment. It was as if we had a natural affinity on some things.

‘Oh, I came here once before, a few years back. It’s away from the main drag so it doesn’t get as busy as some of those other places. And the food is amazing. So,’ he said, taking a sip from his wine and leaning back in his chair, his gaze appraising me thoughtfully, ‘how has your day been? Did you get any blinding flashes of inspiration?’

His broad frame filled the chair. He was wearing black trousers and a black shirt and on anyone else it might have made them look like one of the waiters, but on Dave it just made him look classy and sophisticated and a tiny bit dangerous. There it was again! However much I tried to get away from it, that tantalising element of darkness wafted over in my direction. I could feel it tingling on my lips and rippling along the length of my spine. Danger with a capital D. I felt a warm swell of desire in the pit of my stomach.

I crossed my legs and tried to ignore the dark thoughts now infiltrating my mind. I’d never met anyone like Dave before; that’s all it was. He was so very different from the normal studenty types I was used to mixing with.

‘Inspiration?’ I said, trying to work out what it was he was asking me, instead of concentrating on what it was his mere presence was doing to me.

His dark eyes widened as he tilted his head to one side.

‘Yes, some new ideas for your jewellery line? That’s what you here for, isn’t it?’

Oh God. Come in, Persephone, please! I’d completely forgotten about the jewellery designing thing.

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ I said, waving my hand in front of me breezily. ‘I’ve had a very productive day, getting ideas.’

‘Oh yes?’

Crikey. From the way he was looking at me he expected me go on, fill in some of the detail. Say something sensible.

‘Yes, jotting down a few ideas, that sort of thing. I was on the beach at five thirty this morning with my bucket collecting shells and driftwood. Just being in the sea air, hearing the sound of the gulls, the ice-cream vans chiming by, it fires my creativity.’