by Jane Green
James visibly relaxes. “So, how have you been? We haven’t seen you at the nursery for a few weeks. I’ve been worried.”
“You have? That’s so sweet. Actually there hasn’t been anything I’ve needed.”
James nods. “Of course. I was just worried, we’d got so used to seeing your face. We’ve missed you, and your friend was asking about you. I think he was expecting to have seen you already.”
“Friend? What friend?”
“Your friend from England. Harry. He was just asking me on Friday whether I thought you’d be in soon.”
Alice looks at James with a frown, total incomprehension on her face. “Harry? What are you talking about?”
“Harry’s at the nursery. He took me up on the job offer. He’s been working here the last few weeks.”
“What? Harry’s here?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t know. I assumed you knew.” James shakes his head at the strangeness of it all. “You are friends, aren’t you?”
“Sort of.” Alice is still in shock. “He was going out with my best friend. But he’s here? In Highfield?”
“Yes. It seems as if he’d really like to see you. You should pop in and see him.”
Alice doesn’t say anything. Just sits quietly, watching her legs as she circles them in the warm water.
“Kay will probably kill me for talking to you,” James mutters as he stands up. “Oh God. Sorry. No offense.”
“Don’t worry.” Alice looks up at him and smiles. “None taken. Thanks, James.”
“What for?”
Alice shrugs. “For the apology. For . . . nothing. I think I’ll come in on Monday. I’ll see you then.”
“Great!” James starts walking back to Kay, who’s giving him murderous looks from just inside the French doors. “See you Monday.” And off he goes.
30
Joe is beginning to think that Josie might not be such a good idea after all.
He had thought she was tough, independent, self-sufficient. He had assumed she wanted nothing from him other than great sex, would follow the rules and not expect him to be with her full time, or make demands he wasn’t prepared to fulfill.
Not to mention the fact that the greatest turn-on for Joe was the very fact that Josie was forbidden, the thrill that they were engaging in an illicit affair, and the potential danger that involved.
The day he broke up with Alice everything changed. Joe thinks that it is Josie’s fault, that Josie has decided she is going to be his next wife, and while there is an element of truth in that, he hasn’t considered that he has just grown bored, that without the element of danger there is no excitement left for him in sleeping with Josie.
And poor Josie has fallen for Joe. She had refused to admit to anyone that her move to New York might be for reasons other than professional, but she knew, the minute the job offer arrived, that she would be seeing Joe again.
All those months in London she had tried not to entertain the possibility that Joe would leave his wife for her. She was neither that naive nor that optimistic, but there was always a tiny hope that she tried to push well out of the way. And now, suddenly, her hope has materialized. And while she is well aware that technically Joe didn’t leave his wife for her, she can’t help but think that Joe might have wanted to be found out. After all, who does not junk potentially dangerous e-mails such as the ones they had been sending one another? And she can’t help but think that Joe needs a woman, and she is the perfect girl to step into the shoes that Alice has so recently vacated.
Joe did, after all, beg her to stay that day she came round and discovered the marriage had broken up.
Joe is more vulnerable than Josie ever imagined, and his seeming incapacity to look after himself has brought out Josie’s maternal instincts, instincts that quite frankly she didn’t think existed.
For the last six weeks Josie has been dashing over to Joe’s apartment and cooking him meals. She has been the one to drop his dry-cleaning off in the morning on the way to work. She left work early to let herself into his apartment to wait for the cable guy.
In short, Josie is doing everything that Alice once did. She thinks that if she makes herself indispensable, Joe will make her his second wife. She is convinced that the more she does for him, the better she looks after him, the more Joe will realize he cannot do without her.
She doesn’t think that there might be anything strange in their not making love quite as often as they did before. That Joe is climbing into bed beside her, giving her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before claiming exhaustion and rolling over on his side to go to sleep.
Josie doesn’t realize that in trying to make herself indispensable, she has lost her sex appeal for Joe, and while he is comfortable being looked after, having someone beautiful on his arm (and why wouldn’t he be, having had exactly the same in Alice for the past six years?), he is growing as turned off by Josie as he used to be by Alice.
Joe’s eye has started wandering again. Here he is tonight, in the lobby of the Royalton, having a drink with Fred, a colleague from the office. All around him there are beautiful women, and it doesn’t take long before they are joined by two of them, Andrea and Kathleen.
Andrea, the lovelier of the two, is brazen in her flirting. Joe looks at his watch. This was supposed to be a quick drink. He’s supposed to be at Josie’s apartment tonight. She’s cooking him dinner and they’re meant to be having a quiet night in. He looks back at Andrea, who is staring at him coquettishly, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t tell me you’re going somewhere already?” Her voice is sultry, her look suggestive.
“Why?” Joe grins. “Do you have a better idea?”
“My apartment’s around the corner. I was thinking perhaps you’d like to come up and have a drink. We could get to know one another better.” With that she slips off a shoe and strokes Joe’s calf with her bare foot. Joe closes his eyes for a second. He can’t do this. He shouldn’t do this. Josie’s waiting. Oh, for fuck’s sake. He’s just split up with his wife. He deserves to have some fun.
“I just have to make a phone call,” Joe says.
“The wife?” Andrea smiles, not really caring.
Joe smiles and shakes his head. “Nope. I’m separated. Just a friend I was going to meet for dinner.”
“And you’re canceling?”
“Should I?”
“You very definitely should.”
“In that case please excuse me for a couple of minutes.”
Joe leaves the table and walks outside the hotel, pressing Josie’s speed dial.
“Hi, it’s me.”
“Hi! I’m just in the middle of cooking. Where are you?”
“Jose, I’m so sorry. I’m having a drink with Fred, and Richard and Don from Goldmans have just walked in, and you know they’re joint books on this huge deal I’m doing, and we’ve started talking work, so I really think I should stay.”
“Oh.” Josie’s disappointment weighs her down, prevents her from saying anything else, and she stands in her tiny galley kitchen, wooden spoon in hand, phone cradled in her shoulder, waiting for him to say he’ll be over later, hoping that even though she’s gone to all this trouble for a meal he won’t be eating, at least he’ll come over later and stay the night, keep the loneliness from the door.
“And I know you’ve made dinner and I’m so sorry, but I need to be involved in this and they’re going out for dinner. I think it’s probably best if I stay at my place tonight.”
“Okay.” Josie pulls herself together and tries to make her voice as bright as possible. “Do you want me to come over? I could come later.”
“Don’t worry. I think it may be a late one. But I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Have a good time.”
“I’m sure it will be boring as hell, but it needs to be done. Take care, darling.” And Joe clicks the phone shut, leaving Josie standing in her kitchen, praying that she’s not losing him already.
Joe goes b
ack to Andrea’s apartment. She makes no pretense of offering him a drink, but entwines herself around him the minute they step out of the elevator, and they stumble together to her bed.
And it is, as it always is for Joe with these brief encounters, fantastic. She is tireless, inventive, and best of all as far as Joe is concerned, filthy.
They go to sleep in each other’s arms, he is woken up by her oh-so-clever mouth, they have more sex in the morning, and then he leaves.
“Call me if you ever feel like a fun night again,” Andrea says, waving him good-bye from her bed before she turns over and goes back to sleep.
Joe doesn’t bother telling her he doesn’t have her number. He just leaves, unable to wipe the smile off his face all day. Why would he need Andrea’s number when there are plenty more where she came from?
Hell, he’s spent six years married. Finally he has freedom. The very last thing he needs is to settle down again. But meanwhile, how can he let Josie down gently?
Joe cares about Josie. Genuinely. And he’s used to being looked after, and even though Josie is rapidly losing her sex appeal, the fact remains that he’s comfortable with her.
And why would Josie have to know? He’s already spoken to her this morning, and although she was clearly upset at first, by the end of the conversation he had won her over, and he is taking her out tonight to a charity benefit.
Joe is a man who is used to both having his cake and eating it. It’s far too soon to get rid of Josie, plus he’s never been much good at getting rid of women—he usually behaves so badly he forces them to do the dirty deed themselves. He’ll just carry on as he is right now, seeing Josie, and if other opportunities present themselves, well, good Lord, he’s newly single and only human after all.
As for Alice, Joe phones her from time to time because he feels it’s the right thing to do. He doesn’t exactly miss her, he misses the habit of her, and although he’s now fairly sure he hadn’t been in love with Alice for years, he does still care about her and wants to check she’s okay.
But oh how lovely it is not to feel pressured to go down to that dump in the middle of nowhere. The more Joe thinks about it, the more amazed he is that he ever spent any time there whatsoever. Bloody countryside. Bloody bugs. He can’t believe he schlepped down to Highfield on the train to spend weekends doing all the things he hated.
What a relief it is to be in Manhattan every weekend, not to have to explain to anyone why he won’t be arriving or to have to think of yet another bloody excuse.
He’s not looking forward to the actual divorce—God knows he’s worked hard enough for his money, he’s not exactly happy about giving any of it up—but all in all he has to admit this is probably for the best. He and Alice have grown so far apart. Alice has changed so much, it’s a wonder they survived as long as they did.
On Monday morning Alice puts Snoop in the car and drives over to Sunup nurseries. She pulls up in the forecourt and looks out of the windshield, trying to see if Harry’s around, but she doesn’t get out of the car.
She wasn’t going to do this. She sat in her kitchen yesterday evening thinking about what James had told her. She thought how bizarre it was that Harry should be here, that he hadn’t called her, but then she remembered the feel of the grass on her back, his lips on hers, and she knew that he wouldn’t call her, that he would wait until she appeared in the nursery.
Now that she’s here she can’t get out of the car. She can remember the feel of his lips, the smell of his skin, but she can barely remember what he looks like. And what will she say to him? Fancy seeing you here? What a surprise?
Then there’s Emily to consider. They’ve only just gotten back on track again, reverting to their regular laughter-filled phone calls. Alice nearly lost Emily once; she’s not prepared to do it again. And even though Alice isn’t thinking about Harry as anything other than a friend (at least she’s trying), it’s only been six weeks since her marriage broke up and she’s hardly ready for someone else, let alone a disastrous rebound relationship with her best friend’s ex.
How will she tell Emily she’s seen Harry? How will she tell Emily Harry is here? Alice sighs and rests her head on the steering wheel as Snoop raises his head from the passenger seat and looks at her with concern.
“What am I doing here?” Alice whispers to Snoop as she shakes her head and turns the ignition key. “I must be nuts. This is ridiculous. Come on, Snoop, let’s go home.” And off they go.
Alice goes home, cleans up the kitchen, makes some phone calls, then takes a large mug of tea outside to soak up the warm midafternoon sun. She takes her phone down to the pond and sits on the bench looking at the water, smiling as she thinks how lucky she is, how she would never believe she could be this calm or at peace, given that her marriage has just broken up.
The silence is broken by the shrill ringing of her phone.
“Hey, you.” It’s Emily.
“Hey, you,” Alice smiles. “What are you up to?”
“Writing a piece about a madwoman who runs workshops teaching women how to empower themselves.”
“Doesn’t sound mad, sounds like a good idea. Have you done the workshop?”
“No,” Emily groans. “That’s the awful part. I’m starting tomorrow.”
“And? What’s so awful?”
“Oh God, Ali. Let’s just say part of the workshop involves mirrors and vaginas.”
Alice splutters with shocked laughter. “You’re joking!”
“No,” Emily says miserably. “I wish I bloody was.”
“But not in front of other people, surely?”
“Yes in front of other people. That’s part of the empowerment apparently.”
“Sounds more like the madwoman’s fulfilling a sexual fantasy.”
“I know. That’s what I thought. Oh God. Isn’t it horrific?”
“I hope you’ve had your legs waxed.” Alice keeps laughing.
“My legs? I’ve had everything waxed.”
“Ouch!”
“Yes, bloody ouch. It was a killer.”
“But at least you’ll have the prettiest vagina there.” Alice splutters with laughter.
“Oh God. I should never have told you.”
“Just tell me why exactly you’re doing this?”
“Because it’s a commission from Elle, and I’ve been dying to get in with Elle for years. This could be my big breakthrough, but I hope to God it’s worth it. I think I could be about to have the most embarrassing day of my life.”
Alice takes a deep breath. “Em, there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Uh-oh. Why does that always make me think I’m about to hear bad news?” And she gasps. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re pregnant. You’re not, are you?”
“No, I’m not pregnant. Nothing like that. Harry’s here.”
There’s a brief silence as Emily digests what Alice has just said, not quite understanding. “Harry? My Harry?”
“Yes. That Harry.”
“What do you mean he’s there? He’s staying with you?”
“No! Christ, Em, I wouldn’t do that, I mean, that would never . . .”
“Okay, okay. Sorry. But what do you mean?”
“I know, it’s completely bizarre, but I was at Gina’s on Saturday and James was there and remember when James jokingly offered Harry a job on New Year’s Eve? Well, it seems he accepted.”
“Oh.” There’s a pause. “No. I didn’t know that. So have you seen him yet?”
“No! Emily, I told you, there’s nothing between us. I don’t plan on seeing him. I just thought you ought to know because, well, you know how small this town is. I may well bump into him, and I didn’t want you to jump to conclusions.”
Emily doesn’t say anything for a while.
“Em? Are you still there?”
“Sorry. I was just thinking. You know, you two are perfect for each other.”
“What?” Alice is shocked. This was the very last thing she expected Emily to say.<
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“Well, you are. I know I was devastated last Christmas and don’t worry, you don’t have to explain again. I know that these things happen, but you know I’ve had a lot of time to think since then, and you and Harry just make sense.”
“Emily, that’s ridiculous. First of all, I don’t find Harry attractive, and second, I’m still married.”
“Separated.”
“Okay, but technically I’m still married. I’ve only been on my own for six weeks. There’s no way I want to get involved with Harry. Or anyone. God! I wasn’t even thinking that.”
“But, Alice, it’s true. The two of you are perfect together. And you do find Harry attractive. You told me when I was going out with him.”
“Maybe I was just saying that to keep you happy.”
“Bollocks. You should go and see him.”
“Oh God. No. I can’t. What would I say?”
Emily giggles. “Tell him Emily says hi.”
“Oh, ha bloody ha.”
“Just say hello. Tell him you heard he was working there and you thought you’d come and see him. Then invite him over for dinner and have wild passionate sex with him on the kitchen table.”
“Emily!” Alice is shocked.
“Oh, get over yourself. First of all, he’s fab in the sack, and second, I’m very happy with Colin, thank you very much, so I don’t mind at all. You know what, I want you to be happy, especially after the way that fuckwit Joe treated you, and I know Harry would make you happy. The two of you could garden your way into the sunset together.”
“If I didn’t love you so much I’d tell you to fuck off.”
“If I didn’t love you so much there’s no way I’d be pushing for you to get together with my ex-boyfriend. But seriously, I can’t think of two people better suited for one another. Go and see him. Please. For me.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”