Read Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating Online
Authors: Eleanor Prescott
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary
She grinned evilly.
‘So I get to go to bed with a smile on my face knowing there’s a very big chance Tony’s wife will make a fool of him,’ she continued triumphantly. ‘And you get to go to bed knowing that Slimy Sebastian drank your best mate’s piss!’
‘Lou, you’re a very, very bad person,’ Kate scolded. ‘But I love you very, very much!’
Lou tutted. ‘You know I don’t do the L-word.’
‘Sorry, forgot!’ Kate grinned. ‘Well, here are a couple of words for you . . . “My” and “round”.’ She slipped her arm into Lou’s. ‘I’m buying you a bottle of the best plonk Luigi’s can muster!’
And the two women headed off down King Street, giggling as they went.
From the safety of her living room Alice logged into her Hotmail account and opened a new email. With a flutter of nerves she rummaged in her bag, fished out her notebook and typed Kate’s email address. She stared at it as the TV chattered quietly in the background. Audrey would kill her if she ever found out. Goodness knows how much of her contract she was about to contravene. But she was going to do it anyway. She had a very strong feeling about this. And besides, love was love. It wasn’t going to be stopped by a piece of paper.
She began to type.
Kate
I’ve found someone
perfect
for you! But he’s not on the Table For
Two books. How do you feel about a black-market date?
Please don’t reply to my work email. If Audrey found out I’d be
flipping burgers within the hour.
Alice
P.S. He doesn’t tick all your boxes, but trust me on this one!
She sat back nervously and reread what she’d written. A moment later she stretched forward and hit the
send
button. It was done. Her heart was racing.
Suddenly her mobile sprang to life, making her jump violently. It couldn’t be Kate already, surely? Alice looked at her watch. Most of her friends wouldn’t phone so late, unless it was Ginny needing to talk. She hoped it was. She’d thought about her constantly since Friday night. She’d phoned several times but the answerphone was always switched on.
But it wasn’t Ginny. It was John.
‘I hope it’s not too late to call.’
She felt a thrill rush through her body. Her plan had worked.
‘Thanks for the flowers!’ She tried to sound calm and normal.
‘Did you like them?’
‘I loved them! So much better than roses!’ She winced. Trust her to namecheck the universal floral shorthand for a declaration of love. Luckily John didn’t seem to notice.
‘Well, you didn’t deadhead them and send them back to me,’ he teased, ‘. . . and you haven’t hung up – so I’m hoping you’re not angry with me any more.’
‘I wasn’t angry with you,’ Alice replied hurriedly. ‘I was just . . .’
‘. . . affronted because you thought I was making an indecent proposal via coffee?’
Alice floundered. It sounded so silly when he put it like that.
‘I must admit, I was a bit surprised to see you vault the
dahlias and tear through the shop like that,’ he laughed. ‘As knockbacks go, it was pretty spectacular! Obviously it could simply be that you’re a woman of taste and couldn’t get away fast enough. But I realize it might also have been how I came across.’
Alice’s brain whirred to keep ahead of him.
‘Look, really, please.’ John suddenly sounded nervous. ‘I’m not like that.’
‘Right. Good,’ Alice replied, trying to sound like she knew what he was on about. ‘Like what?’
‘Well, you know. I’m not some lecherous Lothario who hangs around garden centres trying to pick up women.’
They both laughed awkwardly.
There was a small pause.
‘Although I’d be lying if I said I only wanted to go for coffee with you to discuss the merits of herbaceous borders,’ he added sheepishly.
There was a longer pause. Alice tried to digest what he’d just said. So he wasn’t a lecherous Lothario on the lookout for a cheap extramarital fling. But he didn’t just want to talk to her about gardening either. So what exactly did he want? A semi-lecherous affair with the odd horticultural aside? Alice was confused. She wasn’t sure whether to feel outraged or not.
‘Does Audrey know you’re calling me?’ she side-stepped. ‘Is she there with you now?’
‘Ah, no! Audrey is most definitely not with me now,’ John laughed. ‘And unless she’s got my phone tapped then no, she doesn’t know I’m calling you either.’
‘So, you’re, um, you’re going behind her back, then?’
She waited nervously for his answer.
‘It’s none of Audrey’s business who I call, or who I invite for coffee.’
‘Oh!’
There was another pause, broken by John sighing.
‘Arghh, I wanted to clear things up but I’m digging myself an even bigger hole. Am I about to get cut off?’
‘I’m not really sure what to do. I’ve not got very much experience in handling late-night phone calls from my boss’s husband.’
‘Husband? Yes, I wondered if that was why you ran off.’
‘Look, John.’ Alice tried to be plain. ‘You were very kind to me at the ball. A knight in shining armour, in fact. And I’m very grateful. And for the flowers too.’ She took a deep breath before ploughing on. ‘Obviously you heard all the stuff Sheryl said about me. She made me sound tragic and desperate. But I’m not. The bit about me being single was true, but that doesn’t mean I’m easy pickings or that I’m going to fall into bed with the first man who buys me a cappuccino. Especially if he’s married. And extremely especially if he’s married to my boss!’
She felt dizzy with the effort of being so upfront.
‘I’m sorry if that makes me sound like a prude,’ she added timidly.
‘Far from it. It makes you sound . . . Look, it’s like I said at the garden centre; I think we both might have got the wrong end of the stick. What I’m asking is for us to start again. With a clean sheet. I’m not sure who you think I
am, but there’s no way of telling you the truth without sounding like I’m spinning you a line. And I’m a very honest person. I’m a gardener, for heaven’s sake!’
Alice thought for a moment. Her mind whipped through a series of flashbacks: of John standing up for her at the ball; of him hurrying to the taxi rank to apologize for everybody else’s bad behaviour; of him pushing his hanky gently into her hands when she thought she’d managed to hide her tears.
‘OK,’ she mumbled. ‘A clean sheet.’
‘Good . . .’ He sounded relieved. ‘So, I’d like to tell you something in confidence. It’s really important that you don’t tell anyone at Table For Two, or at any other dating agency. You strike me as the kind of person who keeps her word.’
‘I am.’
There was a long pause.
‘I’m not married to Audrey,’ he said finally. ‘Actually, I’m not married to anyone.’
There was another pause.
‘What, you mean you and Audrey never got married?’ Alice asked dumbly. ‘You’re just long-term . . . partners?’
‘We’re long-term . . .
friends
.’
‘So the fizzle has gone out of your relationship and now you see other women?’
‘No!’ There was a hint of a laugh in John’s voice. ‘I mean there has never been any fizzle. It’s not – and has never been – a fizzling kind of relationship. It’s a . . .’ – he searched for the right word – ‘
special
relationship. But it’s not what you think.’
‘So you and Audrey aren’t . . . ?’
‘No.’
‘But . . . But . . . all those beautiful bouquets you send to our office!’
‘Flowers for Audrey? Nothing to do with me.’
‘What about your anniversary? You took her to Paris.’
‘No, not guilty. I’ve never been any further with Audrey than the Town and Country Golf Club.’
Alice struggled to make sense of it.
‘But the ball? What about the ball? Everyone thought you were her husband.’
‘They may have thought it, but I’ve never said it.’
‘So you and Audrey aren’t together?’ Alice still couldn’t believe it.
‘Not in the conventional way, no.’
‘Right . . .’ She thought for a moment. Was there an unconventional way to be together? Like those permissive, partner-swapping relationships she’d seen on late-night TV? But weren’t they all about sex parties and nasty rubber clothing with straps and harnesses? She didn’t want to begin to think about Audrey like that.
‘Would it do any good to ask you to trust me? To tell you I’ll explain everything when the time’s right?’
‘Ummm . . .’ Alice didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have a clue what he was going on about.
‘Look, Alice, I like you. I liked you from the moment I met you. You were a breath of fresh air at the ball; natural and beautiful. You shone out amongst all the lipstick and back-stabbing. After you left I couldn’t stop thinking about
you. And then, when I bumped into you at the garden centre, in your jeans with your hair all scruffy, I liked you even more. And you’re a gardener! How fantastic is that? You’re
that
good
and
you’re a gardener!’
Alice’s body was slowly lighting up with the magic of his words.
John continued carefully.
‘My relationship with Audrey is complicated and there are things between us – confidences – that I can’t betray. But I can say, hand on heart, I’ve never so much as kissed her. And I never will.’
Alice was astonished. Audrey wasn’t married to John! She was always bragging that she had the perfect marriage. But it was a lie! Why?
On the other hand, John wasn’t married to Audrey! Handsome, gentlemanly, I-think-you’re-natural-and-beautiful John wasn’t married at all! And he was still speaking.
‘I’m not trying to trick you, and I’m not trying to have an affair. I’m single. I like you.’
There was a pause. Alice’s mind was too busy for speech. Luckily John’s voice filled the void again.
‘So, Alice,’ she heard him say, ‘would you
please
reconsider and let me buy you that coffee?’
Audrey breezed into Partridges’ department store, consulted the store map and headed to the escalator, bound for the lingerie department on the first floor. Lingerie departments were rarely visited territory for Audrey. She preferred to do her shopping by catalogue, thereby escaping the double helping of hell that was high-street changing-room lighting and the spiteful elbows of competitive lady shoppers.