by Anna Bell
I think how many families like mine that could be spared the pain of losing someone close to them.
‘So the dinner would be after Valentine’s Day?’
‘Yep. I’d imagine late February, early March.’
I nod. That’s more time pretending. I think of Aidan; either I’ll have to tell him the truth or I’ll have to stop something before it starts with him. It’s one thing to lie to strangers on the internet, it’s quite another to lie to someone I really care for.
‘So is the food nearly ready?’ I need to change the subject and to stop myself from feeling sick.
‘Almost,’ he says, tasting the sauce on the hob with a little spoon before adding more pepper.
I sit down at the little kitchen table until he plates up the food. I’m waiting patiently for him to pop it down in front of me but he hovers with the plates in his hand.
‘Shall we go through into the dining room?’ he asks.
‘The dining room,’ I say in my best posh voice. ‘Aren’t we going to eat here?’
‘Not tonight.’
I follow him out of the kitchen and I push open the door to the dining room as he’s got his hands full – and I gasp. He’s really gone to town for the Instagram photo. His trademark fairy lights have got another outing but it’s the table that’s the main focus with a silk runner down the middle, fancy-looking candles, as well as every piece of cutlery imaginable.
‘Wow, you’ve been busy,’ I say as he places the food down on the mats.
‘Take a seat.’
I do as I’m told, taking the napkin from my place setting and put it on my lap, something I never do but this is so formal I feel like I should.
Luke sits down opposite me.
‘Oh, I should pop the camera on to record this.’
‘Definitely.’
He slides his phone into his selfie stick and holds it out whilst we pull suitably cheesy faces and point at the mouthwatering food.
‘Got it,’ he says, retrieving the phone and tapping away to post them.
‘I had no idea you were such a good cook,’ I say between mouthfuls. ‘Were you not tempted to do the Great Office Bake Off?’
‘God no, I can’t bake. But I’m secretly hoping that they do an inter-office version of Masterchef.’
‘Don’t say that. I couldn’t cope with another competition. Mrs Harris is a nervous wreck at the moment. Shouting at us one minute, bursting into tears the next.’
‘She did really well to get into the final. Miles is intolerable.’
We discuss the highs and lows of the previous rounds and I shovel in the food until my plate is clear.
‘That was delicious.’
I put my knife and fork down on my plate and rub my satisfied belly.
‘There’s more. I’ve made dessert.’
‘Dessert? What type of dessert?’
‘You’ll see,’ he says, picking up my plate and his and a small smile spreads over his face as he leaves.
‘What a tease,’ I mutter to myself.
He comes in carrying a tray with a plastic dish over the top.
‘I thought we could do an Instagram Live.’
‘For the dessert reveal? I like it.’
‘OK,’ he says, taking a deep breath. He’s shaking, which is weird as he doesn’t usually get nervous. What on earth is under that plastic dish?
He does a thumbs up to let me know we’re live and then he launches into character.
‘So, Izzy and I are having a romantic meal in.’
‘Luke just cooked the best meal, take a look at my Insta stories for pictures.’
‘Thanks, honey, but the best is yet to come, here’s the dessert.’
I do a drumroll on the table with my fingers and he lifts the lid to reveal it.
‘Oh my God, is that chocolate cheesecake?’ I say, my jaw dropping.
‘Nutella cheesecake.’
‘Ah, Luke, marry me right now,’ I say, trying not to drool on camera.
‘Funny you should say that,’ he says, dropping to his knees.
I’m too busy staring at the cheesecake at first to process what is going on, but then something small and sparkly catches my eye and I notice that he’s down beside me on one knee.
‘Izzy Brown, will you marry me?’
I’m about to collapse into hysterics – he got me good there, that ring even looks like it’s real, but then I see the phone and remember that he’s recording.
‘Well, sweetie,’ he says, turning to talk to the screen. ‘What’s she going to say, folks, is it going to be a yes?’
He thrusts the ring box closer towards me and for the first time in my life I’m speechless. I’m hit by a plethora of emotions: surprise, horror, anger, confusion. What the bloody hell is he doing?
‘Izzy,’ he repeats again.
I don’t have time to think about it. If I say no, I’ll come across as a heartless bitch and shatter everyone’s perception of the couple we are. I’ll no longer be able to walk away with a shrug and an ‘it didn’t work out but I’ve got a best friend for life’ spiel. I think of what a big deal the Heart2Heart event is and how much good we could do with the fame we’re riding.
‘Izzy?’
There’s a hint of desperation and I look down at the ring one last time. It’s not like if I say yes I have to go through with the whole wedding thing, is it? I mean, it would be better to say yes and then we break up behind closed doors?
‘Yes,’ I say, trying to feign enthusiasm and Luke leaps up and pulls me into a giant hug.
He kisses the top of my head and slips the ring on my finger before waving it in front of the camera.
‘We’re going to carry on our private celebrations now,’ says Luke. ‘But I am the happiest man on the planet at this moment in time. She said yes!’
He does a fist pump and then switches the live feed off before he turns back to me and sighs with relief.
‘What the fuckety fuck were you doing? That wasn’t part of the plan. We’re supposed to date for a while and then break up.’
‘Listen, don’t get mad.’
‘Don’t get mad? Don’t get mad? You just railroaded me into marrying you.’
‘Hang on, we’re only engaged, that’s all. Just listen to what I have to say. Grant was telling me that if we were engaged he’d pay us to have the wedding there. We’d just have to go to their wedding fayre and sample their foods and—’
‘And get married? This isn’t some joke anymore, Luke. This is real life. I’ve got this great guy who I’m falling for, but I’m keeping him at arm’s length.’
‘A guy you’re falling for? Izzy! What the fuck? You know you’re not supposed to get involved with anyone. What if someone saw you?’
‘Oh and like you haven’t seen anyone since we started “dating”,’ I say, doing cringey air quotes. ‘You bought Meredith on a flipping date with us.’
‘That was different, firstly because you were there with us and secondly that was the last time I saw her.’
‘I wonder why,’ I say, thinking that it was hardly romantic.
‘Because I’m not fucking stupid and I realised what I’d done wrong. Now is not the time to be gallivanting around with someone else.’
‘Aidan and I have only been out as friends so far, but I can’t help it, we just clicked and I want to see where it goes with him.’
‘We just clicked? Fucking hell, Izzy. You know we’re on the cusp here. We’re influencers now. This isn’t a dream anymore. It’s a reality. This is the start of our new life.’
‘But at what cost? The thing with Aidan, I think it could be something special, I can’t jeopardise it for this. I mean, where does it end? We get engaged and then get married, and then what, we pop out a couple of kids?’
‘Look, it’s just an engagement and you’ve done the hard work now, you’ve said yes. Everyone is going to go crazy.’
I pick up my phone and already my last post has thousands of likes and hundreds of co
mments. Everyone is telling me how lucky I am and congratulating me on our engagement.
‘Grant is offering us £10,000. Do you know what that means? It means that this is becoming financially viable. We could quit our jobs. We could—’
‘Luke, you’re not getting this. This isn’t just a thing on Instagram anymore. It’s our real lives.’
‘I know,’ he says, shouting. ‘This is real. That one sponsor is willing to pay half my annual basic salary. We can’t just walk away from this. Don’t tell me that you don’t need the money.’
I close my eyes. Of course I do. I’m struggling from pay cheque to pay cheque in a job that I know I don’t want to do forever. This would offer me an easy way out, but that doesn’t mean to say it’s the easy decision to make.
‘Will you at least think about it? Things haven’t changed between us, it’s just a ring you put on for our dates. We get more money. Job done.’
I think about Ben and why I wanted to be an influencer and about how many lives Heart2Heart could save with the money we might help them raise. I stare at the fake diamond and I feel myself dying a little more on the inside when I nod.
‘OK, I’ll do it. I’ll go through with this thing on the condition that this is it. We get engaged until just after the charity ball on Valentine’s Day, then we’re breaking up amicably, OK? Our follower numbers should be big enough by then for us to be influencers in our own right.’
‘OK.’
‘And I am categorically not going to try on any wedding dresses, do you hear?’
He nods. He’s got a small smile on his face and I can tell he’s trying to suppress an even bigger one.
‘Are you going to eat the cheesecake?’ he asks, cutting a slice.
‘I am so mad at you right now.’
‘So you don’t want a slice?’
‘Of course I bloody do, then I’m going.’
‘But we’ve got to plan and take a post-engagement photo.’
I glare at him as I take a bite. It’s to die for but I’m not going to show any signs of enjoyment.
‘OK, so we can plan December’s posts another time, but we’ve got to at least take a photo for our feeds. We can’t waste this opportunity.’
I sigh loudly and put down my fork on the empty plate.
‘If we take the photo I’m taking the rest of the cheesecake home.’
‘Of course.’
‘And it’s definitely just until after Valentine’s Day?’
‘Just after the hype has calmed down, March at the latest.’
‘End of February at the latest,’ I say, gritting my teeth.
Three months. That doesn’t seem that long. Aidan and I still haven’t worked out what we are and I’ve still got to tell him about being an influencer. Maybe if I told him the whole truth, he’d understand. Either way it’s only three months and then I can live my life without lies.
Chapter 25
I’m pacing up and down by the front door, looking between my clipboard and my watch.
‘How are we doing?’ asks Becca, a panicked looked on her face.
‘We’re still missing Carla, and the mums.’
Becca nods. ‘I’ll phone Carla, and have you tried your mum?’
‘Yes, but she won’t answer the phone when she’s driving, it’s far too dangerous in her book.’
‘Even with hands-free?’
‘Don’t get me started,’ I say, taking a deep breath. ‘Marissa’s going to be here any minute.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll make it on time.’
I look at my watch for the zillionth time.
‘They better.’
Who knew planning a surprise baby shower would be so stressful? I thought it was bad enough co-ordinating everyone’s diary to make sure Marissa’s nearest and dearest would be able to attend before the baby graduated from university, but on top of nearly everyone running late, Marissa’s been getting Braxton Hicks for the last few days and I’ve been terrified she was going to go into labour early and my hard work would be wasted.
I peer into the lounge; at least everyone is having a good time. I’m looking forward to Marissa arriving so I can relax and start to mingle.
The door buzzes and I walk over to the intercom with trepidation.
‘Hello,’ I say, hoping that Marissa’s not early.
‘Hi, it’s Carla.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ I say, sighing with relief. ‘Come on up.’
I tick her off my list and circle mine and Marissa’s mum’s names. I’m starting to wish that I’d personally gone and collected them. Marissa’s mum Karen is a little bit of a liability and is a terrible secret-keeper so I made Mum invite her out for coffee and offer to pick her up. But they were supposed to be here half an hour ago.
There’s a knock at the door and I open it for Carla, who’s one of our old school friends, and she wraps me in a warm hug.
‘How are you?’ she says, squeezing me tight.
‘I’m OK,’ I say, nodding. I know she’s really asking how am I after Ben. It’s what happens when I see someone for the first time in a while.
‘Good,’ she says, drifting off towards Becca to do the same.
The door buzzes again and I pray that it’s my mum’s voice that I hear.
‘Hello, Izzy?’ she says. Thank God.
‘Come up quickly!’
I tick them off my list and I pop my clipboard down in the kitchen. I help myself to a couple of canapés, feeling relieved that I might just have pulled this off.
There’s a knock at the door and I open it. Marissa’s mum Karen waltzes straight through into the lounge and clasps her hands over her mouth when she sees the party.
‘Oh my goodness, this is amazing. A baby shower, for us,’ she says, turning to me and enveloping me in a big hug.
I want to point out that we’re throwing Marissa a shower, but I bite my tongue. Karen’s always had a bit of an issue with attention. Her mother-of-the-bride outfit was all white and looked suspiciously like a low-key wedding dress.
She pulls away from the hug and I notice that she’s wearing a sparkly T-shirt that says KEEP CALM, I’M GOING TO BE A GRANDMA. Something tells me she might have had an inkling this was happening.
‘It’s such a surprise,’ she says, turning to the room again. ‘I had absolutely no idea. It’s so wonderful you could all make it.’
The door buzzes again and it can only be one person.
‘Right everyone, hush, hush, this will be her,’ I say, thinking at least that it’s temporarily stopped Karen from being the centre of attention. An excited hush falls over the room and all eyes are on me walking over to the intercom. ‘Hello,’ I say, trying to keep the nervous excitement out of my voice.
‘Hi, Izzy? It’s me, Aidan.’
There are a few murmurs round the room at the male voice.
‘Oh, hi,’ I say, wishing that the whole room wasn’t listening to this. It’s been two weeks since we slept together, which was also the last time I saw him. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to see him, it’s just that I know if I do I’ll have to tell him about Luke and I haven’t been brave enough. So instead, much to the delight of my boss, Howard, I’ve been jumping at the chance of any overtime in the evenings and over the weekend, as an excuse not to see him.
‘Can I come up? We need to talk.’
I take my finger off the intercom and sigh. We do need to talk but now is not the time. Marissa is due in five minutes and I’ve got a room full of women, not to mention my mother is here and no doubt she’s hanging off every word.
‘Now’s not really a good time,’ I say, turning and looking at Mum who’s smiling like all her Christmases have come at once.
‘It seems like it never is. But I really want to see you.’
‘I want to see you too,’ I say in a low whisper, not comfortable that everyone is hearing this. ‘But now, really, really isn’t a good time.’
‘Right,’ he says and I can hear that his patience
is wearing thin. ‘I guess I should have believed you when you said you weren’t interested in a relationship. It was just that that sex was—’
‘Come up!’ I scream. I buzz open the door and keep huddled over the intercom panel, too embarrassed to make eye contact with the room.
‘Izzy Brown, you’ve been keeping secrets,’ says Mum, walking up to me with a huge smile on her face. I bet she’s already planning her hat for the wedding.
‘It’s very early days,’ I say to her.
‘Doesn’t sound like it’s that early,’ she says. ‘I want to hear all about it.’
I look at all the other women who are still staring at me.
‘Yes, Mum, and as I said to Aidan – now is not a good time.’
There’s a knock at the door and I hurry over to open it.
Despite our audience, my heart swells as I see Aidan standing there.
‘I’m sorry to drop in on you like this, but I had to see you,’ he says.
‘And I wanted to see you too,’ I say, realising I’ve been a complete idiot putting my fake relationship with Luke first.
He leans over to kiss me and I hear a cough from behind.
Aidan breaks away and I watch a look of horror spreading over his face when he sees the room full of women.
‘Ah, when you said it was a bad time…’ he says, clocking the balloons and baby shower paraphernalia.
‘Yeah, I wasn’t lying. I do want to see you,’ I say, reaching out and squeezing his hand. ‘But it’s Marissa’s baby shower.’
‘Um-hmm, so I see.’
‘Did you want to stay?’
‘As much as I’ve always wanted to bob for dummies,’ he says, pointing at the big sign next to a big tub of water, ‘I think I’ll leave you to it. I’m actually on my way to my mate’s for the weekend in Southampton and I saw the signs for Basingstoke and I thought I’d come by on the off chance. Can we meet up one night in the week or next weekend?’
‘Come round again next weekend,’ I say, relieved that he doesn’t seem too mad at me. ‘That way we’ll have time to talk properly. I’ll call you.’
He raises an eyebrow.
‘I promise I will.’
He smiles and he turns to go when the intercom buzzes again.
‘Hello,’ I say, watching him go.