Where Have All the Boys Gone? (29 page)

She didn’t want to go home. To her empty, silent home. Even having Clara still in it would feel a bit better than nothing at all, she thought. She wondered if there was anything in the fridge. All her summer clothes were still in drawers she supposed. A coal barge passed underneath the bridge, and the man on the deck waved to her. She waved back. She was home. It was stupid to think she could choose between two men. This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened to her. And what was she going to do? Do a Louise and kick it in and move? It was dumb. The whole thing was dumb. That damn place had cast a spell on her that, in the bright light of the morning, just didn’t stack up.

If she took it in little steps, she supposed, it would be all right. First, the clothes. Get changed. Maybe have a long bath. Yes, a bath would definitely be a good plan right about now. And a nap. A long nap, on clean sheets,
in a flat with nobody else in it. Then she would go and see her sister, and her niece – wow, she was an auntie. One thing at a time. Being an aunt felt like a terribly old thing to be. And then the day after that, she would go back to work, just as she had done before, and she would pick up another account and work hard and hope to meet a nice stockbroker and everything would be absolutely fine, and eventually time would go on and she would think about Scotland as if it were only a dream, a silly interlude in her life, when all the boys liked her and she had…well, it had had its ups and downs, but she had had fun. And she could go up and visit. She’d need to get her car at some point, and of course she’d have to visit Louise. And maybe while she was there she could see the others…and remember one evening when anything could have happened. And try never to think about what she could have done.

A car screeched to a halt right behind her, but she ignored it. The traffic had been building up steadily since she’d been walking. There wasn’t a rush hour in London any more; it was all the same. She didn’t bother turning around. She knew once she turned around, the spell would be broken and she’d have to go home and start the rest of her life.

‘Katie,’ yelled a voice.

Katie blinked and turned around, gradually.

There, on the other side of the road, was a man doing his best to dodge through the traffic towards her.

‘What…what are you doing here?’ Katie asked.

Mind you, she said this only after she had literally thrown herself from the side of the bridge into his arms, and he’d held her for a long time, and she’d said, over and over again, ‘It was always you, and I didn’t even
know, and then I did, but…’ then she’d burst into huge racking sobs that went on for ages.

‘Shh,’ he’d said, stroking her hair at last. He wanted to bury his whole face in it.

‘I thought I’d really pissed on my chips, with Iain and everything…and then just disappearing…’

‘No,’ said Harry. ‘No, it was really just me being a jealous idiot. I couldn’t have pissed more on my chips. I realised…I’m not grumpy because of my mum, or because it’s just the kind of person I am…it’s because I’m,’ he cleared his throat, ‘a bit lonely. I drove a girl away once, and bloody hell, if it doesn’t seem to be becoming something of a habit.’

Katie clung on to him very hard.

‘I sorted it out with Iain, by the way.’

She looked up at him, tears still streaking her face. ‘Good.’

‘I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I will, because I want you for myself.’

‘What?’

‘He was chatting up somebody else when I left.’

‘Good for him,’ said Katie, almost ready to smile at the sweet, weak man she’d got to know. She’d have to keep the paper, she thought.

He nodded quickly. ‘Plus, the women are heading out too. Somebody told them there’s forty men to every woman in Alaska.’

‘Cool,’ Katie nodded.

‘Katie, look. I’ve wasted so much time by not saying anything. And being a bit of a prick.’

Katie nodded again. ‘You were.’

‘I know. Love means, turning into a complete prick. Apparently,’ said Harry.

Katie gulped painfully when she heard him mention the L word.

‘But I won’t stop any longer. Please, please please please come back with me. For ever. Live with me, my house is much nicer than Aunt Senga’s. Although you can stay there if you like. I don’t want to rush you. Or, you know, we could come to London a lot, I promise. I could even look for a job here if you want, that’s how much I want to be with you.’

Katie half-laughed. ‘There are NO forests in London.’

‘No? Well, I’m sure we could plant one.’

She clung on to him even tighter. ‘You know, I think you probably could. But, you know, let’s go home first.’

‘Where do you mean?’

‘Scotland,’ she said.

And then he kissed her for the first time, and she realised that actually, it didn’t matter in the slightest. Wherever they were, home would always feel like exactly wherever he was.

‘So, why…why are you here?’ she asked eventually, as he led her back across the road to the waiting Land-Rover, which already had six traffic wardens standing around it, looking at their watches for the second they ticked into penalty time.

He looked at her as if this was the stupidest question in the world. ‘Well…’ he said, opening the door to reveal a sleeping dog on the front seat. ‘Francis wanted a run.’

Francis opened half an eye. On seeing Katie, he leaped up immediately, delighted to see her.

‘I always said my dog liked you,’ Harry said, unwilling to take his hand away from hers to get around to the other side of the car.

Francis, after greeting Katie hysterically, then did a most peculiar thing. He jumped down from the front seat, circled around the car and jumped in the back, without prompting.

Harry shook his head in amazement. ‘Shall we go and pick some things up for you?’

‘Some proper coffee would be good. You must be knackered!’ said Katie. ‘Did you drive all night?’

‘No,’ said Harry, ‘this car can fly.’ He got in the car and took her hand. ‘I just didn’t want to invite myself to lie down on your bed.’

Katie shook her head, unable to believe how happy she felt. ‘In the future, can you just
tell
me stuff you want to do? It’ll make everything a lot less complicated.’

Harry looked at her, and grinned wickedly.

‘OK, maybe not
everything’

Harry pulled out into the busy traffic. ‘Which way?’

‘Not this way!’

‘We’re going to be one of those couples that bicker a lot, aren’t we?’

‘Yes,’ said Katie. ‘I think so. Then we’ll make it up and it’ll be lovely.’

‘OK,’ he said, smiling. ‘By the way, much as I am dying to hold you for ever and never ever let you go, I’ve already had nine speeding tickets in the last seven hours, and I suspect you should probably take your hand away from under my seat belt.’

‘All right,’ said Katie. ‘Can I keep it on your leg?’

‘Yes please,’ said Harry. ‘By the way, is this a good time to tell you I’m actually the love child of the Laird and heir to ninety thousand a year?’

‘But you were keeping it quiet so you could find a woman who only loved you for yourself?’

‘Yes.’

There was a pause.

‘Well, are you?’

‘No,’ said Harry. ‘Iain is though.’

‘Oh shut
up.’

And they turned around, and then the car crossed the bridge into North London, up the road where there were millions, then thousands, then hundreds, then, a long way beyond, just a scattering of cars, the end of the line of a great chain heading north, onwards and upwards for hundreds of miles, until they reached the sea, and the big clean sky.

Acclaim for
Do You Remember the First Time?:

‘Funny stuff.’

Heat

‘Snappy and wickedly entertaining.’

You

‘Full of laughs and lipgloss – brilliant.’

Company

Working Wonders:

‘Funny, magical and moving, this is a rewarding read.’

Time Out

‘We laughed a lot.’

Heat

‘A delicious comedy. Will melt even the hardest of hearts.’

Red

‘Colgan’s witty book perfectly captures the frustrations and petty vexations of office life.’

She

‘Hugely entertaining and very funny.’

Cosmopolitan

‘A funny, clever page-turner.’

Closer

‘Fans of
The Office
will love this witty tale.’

Woman’s Own

‘A quirky tale of love, work and the meaning of life.’

Company

‘If you think David Brent causes mayhem in
The Office
wait till you see what town-planner Arthur and his team get up to in Jenny Colgan’s comic romp.’

In Style

Looking for Andrew McCarthy:

‘Colgan is on top form in this, her latest outrageous romp.’

Cosmopolitan

‘Jenny Colgan is one of the leaders of the pack and this, her third novel, will delight her legions of admirers. Fast-paced, funny, poignant and well-observed it reads as a pastiche of the movies she loved…If a time capsule were buried to capture the world at the turn of the 21st century, this would be a candidate for inclusion: her sense of time and place are that authentic’

Daily Mail

‘Looking for Andrew McCarthy
will strike a chord with anyone who did their growing up in the 80s. Wonderful, warm and resonant for anyone who ever wondered what happened to teenage dreams.’

Hello

‘That’s Life
meets
This Life,
with
Once in a Lifetime
thrown in, all talking heads, witty one-liners and angst-ridden relationships…Did I like this book? Well, d’uh! Do hedgehogs have quills? A pure belter of a novel.’

Glasgow Herald

‘Colgan’s enjoyable new bestseller investigates the notion that having it all can sometimes mean having precisely nothing at all.’

Marie Claire

‘Colgan’s
Looking for Andrew McCarthy
is sharp, well-observed and hilarious.’

New Statesman

‘Colgan’s got an ear for sarky dialogue and a humour that gives her more options…retro-irony, perfect for a conscientious objector’s beach holiday.’

ID

‘Jenny Colgan delivers the goods with her new novel…absolutely brilliant! What really sets Jenny apart from most of her contemporaries is this: she is very, very funny, so much so that this book had me laughing out loud.’

Express

‘There’s razor-sharp wit to this tale of romantic confusion.’

Cosmopolitan

Amanda’s Wedding:

‘Amanda’s Wedding
is a scream.’

Elle

‘Four Weddings and a Funeral
meets
Friends.’

Tatler

‘Compulsively comical.’

Cosmopolitan

‘Funny and insightful.’

Mail on Sunday