Mikey blushed. He blushed!
‘Huh?’ he said and rubbed the back of his neck.
‘Well, let’s see…’ I looked at my watch. ‘It’s half-past seven. We’ve both been up one hour and you’ve already mentioned him three times.’ I raised my eyebrows. This secret unrequited crush – could it finally be coming out into the open? Could the object of Mikey’s affection be this Theo, whom I’d never heard him talk of before? Is this man reciprocating my dear flatmate’s feelings at last?
He tutted and pointed to the headline in the paper. ‘Unemployment has risen again.’
‘Mikey!’
He looked up. ‘What?’
‘Theo!’
‘Oh, he’s just a friend of Sanjay’s…we bumped into each other at the gym yesterday.’
‘Was it him you were on the phone to last night for over one hour? What were you talking about? I could have sworn I heard you mention Dave. Were you telling him about the Hollandaise sauce incident? You laughed enough and–’
‘Had a glass to my bedroom wall did you?’
‘No! You left the door open and–’
Mikey knocked back his orange juice. ‘Right, better go. It’s the monthly Butterfields nursing home fifties lunch.’ He kissed me on the forehead. ‘See you tonight, sweetheart, and when you go to Bladen Place market today, could you pick me up a bag of that German apple pie spice? It’s the only place I can buy it and John’s running short.’
Taking the hint not to quiz him further, I stuck out my tongue, but warmth radiated through my veins. How good it was to hear Mikey chat about a potential love interest (I’d decided that’s what this Theo was) because… my eyes pricked… whilst I couldn’t wait for New York, part of me ached at leaving my single flatmate behind. Whereas if he were in a new relationship, it would be less of a wrench to say good bye.
Mikey so deserved to be happy – take this dementia care lunch. He made no profit from it, as he closed the rest of the diner for a couple of hours and the old folk didn’t fill all the seats, but knew how much the residents enjoyed being whisked back in time, to an era they could remember with confidence. I’d assisted him once and helped one elderly lady eat her hotdog. She remembered all the old bands, The Drifters being particular favourites. I smiled. She’d ordered a chocolate milkshake with two straws, because she and her husband could only afford to share one, when courting. Mikey had been brill at explaining away his death, saying he’d be along later and then charmed her into getting up and gently dancing with him.
I drained my teacup and two hours later was quaffing coffee in the office, whilst ploughing through job applications. Some people had no idea. Under “Interests” one woman had put “Gaming until one in the morning.” I wanted interests that shouted “I’m a team player” or “pick me, a well-organised person”.
Mikey always said I was ruthless when it came to business. But I had to be – get emotionally involved, and I’d never be able to reject someone for a job, let alone sack them. Dave’s lopsided smile crept into my mind. Was I ruthless in my personal life as well? He hadn’t texted me since last night and – between us – I actually read half that Fifty Shades book before going to bed. Well, certain bits, anyway! I could see why it had sold so well. But text him back? I wasn’t my mother – wasn’t going to go overboard to please someone who’d hurt my feelings.
In fact, as I stood in Bladen Place market, by my favourite second-hand bookstall, I was amazed by the plethora of erotic books. I ran my hand over a pile of crime novels, tempted to stop and browse. I shivered. Despite the February sun it was cold. And I only had two hours to pick up a few accessories that would help me look remotely stylish when I landed in the Big Apple.
You see, really – smart work clothes aside – I was just a T-shirt and jeans kind of girl, which is why me and casual Dave always fitted well. Mikey despaired.
‘Jazz! You’ve got a great figure. For God’s sake show off your waist and pins with the occasional dress or high shoes.’
I smiled again to myself and stopped at an Indian stall. Those silk scarves were amazing – something my flatmate would definitely approve of. And one wouldn’t add much weight to my luggage, plus would up-style the plainest of tops. Breathing in the exotic aroma of musky joss sticks, I reached up for a ginger and tangerine one, bearing an intricate floral pattern.
‘Nice,’ said a deep voice, next to me.
I didn’t need to turn around. Warmth spread across my chest. His voice did things to me that no other sound did. ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked brightly and continued to handle the scarf, despite my pulse racing at an Olympic speed.
‘Looking for a present for someone.’
Okay. I give in. My ice queen act didn’t last very long. Dave met my gaze with a sheepish expression and nodded at the scarf. ‘Great colours. Would go with your brown suede jacket.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that. Guess I’d better buy it, then.’ I handed over a tenner and the stallholder put the scarf in a bag.
‘How come you’re here?’ said Dave in a bright voice. ‘I’d have thought you’d be too busy getting ready to move next week.’
‘I need a few essentials for my trip.’ Oh God. Just the thought of my mouth on his sent funny feelings to places deep within me.
‘What – a neck pillow for the journey and some comfy slippers to wear once in the air?’
I couldn’t help grinning. Dave knew me well. Creature comforts normally came before fashion.
‘Actually, I’m hoping to buy a few items that will make me feel a little more glam.’
Dave stopped. ‘Are you serious? You’ve got a natural glamour that won’t fail to impress.’
Those dark eyes didn’t flicker with humour. That was one of the things that first attracted me to him – he didn’t do bullshit.
‘Fancy a quick bite to eat?’ he said and jerked his head towards a stall selling sweet and savoury pancakes. Behind it were a couple of tables, with chairs.
I bit my lip. ‘I told you – I wanted to cool off.’
Dave rubbed his arms. ‘Yes and damn cold it is too!’
I rolled my eyes. Dave always thought his jokes were so good.
He held his hands in the air. ‘Honest. No inquisition. I won’t question you about next week or talk about last Sunday night.’ He sniffed. ‘Hmm. I smell mozzarella and pesto – perhaps followed by a peanut butter one for dessert.’
‘You knew you’d have me at peanut butter.’ We exchanged smiles and I followed him over to the stall. A man my age, in a hurry, banged into me and I dropped my bag. I flinched as I stood up. Habit – even after all these years. If anyone did that to my mum, Dad would have grabbed his collar and threatened all sorts, seeing the accidental bump as some kind of slight against him personally – he didn’t care about his wife. Dave picked up my bag and rolled his eyes.
‘You okay, Jasmine? Honestly, everyone is in such a hurry these days. At least he had the manners to mutter sorry.’
See, a voice said in my head, he’d never be anything like your dad.
‘So, what’ll it be?’ he said.
Stomach grumbling now, I gazed at the menu. ‘Hot chocolate to drink and just a peanut butter pancake please – with chocolate drizzled on top. Here…’ I opened my wallet. Without a job, Mum depended on Dad for everything. As a child, I swore I’d never find myself in that jail of domesticity. Good old Dave had never let his pride get in the way of understanding that and just took the money.
‘I’ll bring the food over if you bagsie a table,’ he said.
I found us two seats and watched as Dave chatted to the pancake-maker. In a way his proposal really had been bad timing, because lately, with New York looming, I’d thought more than usual about my parents.
‘Penny for them?’ said Dave as he sat down and passed me my pancake and drink.
I sipped the hot chocolate, instantly perked up by its creamy richness.
‘How much Mum loved the Hollywood movies.’ Pure escapi
sm from her own life, no doubt. ‘Especially musicals. She harboured a life-long dream to visit New York. A particular favourite film set there was On The Town, starring Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly. Of course, married to Dad, there was no chance of foreign travel. Any spare cash got spent on whiskey.’
‘She always sounds like the most tolerant, brave woman in the world,’ he said gently.
‘Or stupid,’ I muttered. ‘I used to try to hate her, for not having the guts to stand up to him. My aunt got mad too. You should have heard her language when she discovered that Mum had forgiven him once again, falling for the same old promises.’
‘Why did she?’
I shrugged. ‘Goodness knows, I’ve thought about it enough over the years. I think she believed she could change him – turn him back into the man she married. Perhaps wrongly blamed herself for how he’d altered.’ I shook my head. A sick sensation rose up the back of my throat – a common feeling, caused by the conflict of love and resentment for my mother.
Briefly Dave squeezed my hand before going back to his meal. In silence we ate our food and watched the bustle of lunchtime shoppers. It’s the coolest thing ever, isn’t it, when you can sit with someone in pure, unadulterated comfortable silence? And going out with Dave up until this point had been comfortable – plus fun. Sexy. Funny. Everything, I suppose, a woman could want. So why hadn’t I ever thought about marrying him? Or was my recent love of bridal catalogues really my subconscious telling me that Dave… that Dave could in fact be The One?
‘Mmm. That was delicious.’ I wiped my mouth. ‘You know… some say cancer could be brought on by stress and unhappiness.’
‘Your mum?’
I nodded. ‘Ironically, in her last moments it made her happy. Cancer gave her the strength to stand up to Dad and have the teenage me sent to live with my aunt permanently.’ I sniffed and rummaged in my handbag for a few moments.
‘Whatever happens, Jasmine… I’m always here for a chat. Or on the end of the phone. You know that.’
I stared at him. Nodded again. His brow relaxed.
‘Right. Well your loss for not trying that chicken tikka pancake,’ he said, ‘because it was stupendous. It’s just a shame I ordered green tea instead of normal though.’
I chuckled at his look of disgust.
‘In fact I can’t finish it. And… I’d better get on with my shopping before getting back to the grindstone.’
We both stood up. Dave darted forward awkwardly and gave me a peck on the cheek, leaving me wanting more.
‘Oh. By the way. Saturday night…’ He turned up his coat collar. ‘I know you said you needed time to yourself, but you leave next week… could we go out?’
Next week. Part of me still couldn’t believe it. ‘Where?’
He cleared his throat. ‘To that Cuban bar on the high street.’
‘You? Salsa dancing?’
His cheeks flushed. ‘Why not? I feel like doing something different. And I need to sharpen my moves for your sister’s wedding next year… I mean – that’s if I’m invited.’ His shoulders slumped, as he collapsed back into his chair. ‘And I was doing so well.’
‘What do you mean?’ I said and sat down again.
‘It’s no good, Jasmine. I can’t play this game any longer and avoid asking the obvious. Are you coming back from New York? Is next Wednesday the end for you and me?’
‘I… don’t know. That’s the honest truth. I’m still reeling from the fact you proposed. That was shock enough, let alone the way you did it.’
‘Sorry for wanting to commit to you for the rest of our lives,’ he mumbled and folded his arms.
‘Don’t do this, Dave,’ I said. ‘We’ve had a nice lunch. For today, can’t we just leave it at that?’
‘Fine. But you’ll come out with me Saturday?’
‘Yes. Okay. We’ll see each other then.’
He gave me a small smile and then stood up. Within seconds he’d disappeared into the crowd.
My phone rang. The boss. Swallowing hard, I answered it. Oh my word. She wanted me to move to America this Monday, two days early? That was only four days away. Apparently the head honcho of our New York division would be visiting, just for Tuesday, before a two week business trip to Japan. He wanted to meet me – make sure we were on the same page before he left.
Tingles ran up and down my spine. Clearly he saw me as an indispensable part of the set-up team. This, I realised, gave me a degree of clout. And clout was good, right? It might help me secure the exact terms and conditions I wanted, for my new job. Before rushing back to the office, I took a deep breath and texted back. “Fine, but I’ve got something I need to discuss with you first, before you send my response. See you in half an hour.”
Chapter Seven – Mikey
At ten to seven, I stood in the dark, outside Theo’s dance studio. It spat with rain. I hoped Dave wasn’t going to be late as I’d agreed to meet him outside so that we could go in together. Finally a Fiesta pulled up and the headlights flashed me. I headed over. The passenger door opened.
‘Get in a minute, Mikey.’
I clambered inside and pulled the door shut, as the rain got harder. The studio was in an industrial estate, just on the edge of town, along from the cinema. Next to it was a bridal dress factory, on the other side a tile manufacturer.
‘All right? Did you see Jazz today?’
Dave nodded. ‘Yep. She’s agreed to come dancing on Saturday.’
‘How did it go?’
‘Could have been worse. At least we had lunch together.’ Dave cleared his throat and reached to the back seat. He lifted a large bag back over the gear stick and turned back to face the dashboard.
‘This is for you,’ he said gruffly and handed it to me.
My eyes widened and I slid my hand into the bag, to pull out a package the size of a shoe box. I shrugged.
Dave raised an eyebrow. Carefully I opened one end and slid out… wow. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘I didn’t know Sanjay ran an antiques stall at Bladen Place – I stumbled across him as I was about to leave. That night in the diner, I overheard you two talking about a gumball machine. Sanjay had only just received it from another dealer. He’d earmarked it for you anyway, so, it’s no big deal.’
‘You must let me pay you, of course,’ I said and examined it. Not a single scratch! The glossy red would exactly match the decor of Polka Dot Diner and kids would love a gumball to chew on the way out.
‘Mikey. It’s a gift,’ grunted Dave. ‘Call it an apology for being such a prick. I tossed and turned last night. Thought back over the last year or so. You’ve never really given me reason to be jealous. Guess I just let my imagination get the better of me. You… you’ve been a good friend to Jasmine. I’m grateful for that. She had it tough growing up.’
My head span for a moment and my lips upturned. After months of him shunning me, Dave had finally sent a comment my way that was heartfelt, meaningful and… just plain nice. I swallowed and turned to him. ‘Don’t suppose you want a hug,’ I said eventually, chest feeling all fuzzy and warm inside.
We both smiled.
‘Let’s take it slowly,’ he said. ‘How about a handshake for starters?’
We gripped hands. It felt okay. Dave didn’t pull away as quickly as he could have.
‘Come on. We’d better get inside,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to keep Theo waiting. I’ll leave the machine here for the moment, if that’s okay.’
‘Yeah, fine. Oh. Almost forgot… I also got this today,’ he said, cheeks flushing, and reached into the glove compartment to pull out a small, red box. He prised it open.
‘Wow. Dave. I never knew you cared so much.’
‘Idiot,’ he said and glanced at me nervously, clearly waiting for my opinion.
I studied the delicate – was that platinum? – band and discreet setting of the diamond. What a sparkler. ‘She’ll love it. Honestly. It’s classy – and she’s never been a fan of gold jewellery. Well done.
You are really going to be prepared for the proposal this time.’
We crossed the freezing car park and knocked on the studio door. Finally it swung open.
‘Mikey!’ Theo leant forward and hugged me and then I stood back, unable to help admiring his sharp outline in black Lycra trousers and a matching T-shirt; unable to stop losing myself in those kindhearted eyes for a few seconds. There was no denying it – every cell of my body was pleased to see him. We smiled at each other. He’d been so easy to talk to on the phone last night. I’d opened up a little – about the rollercoaster that was mine and Dave’s relationship and Theo had just listened.
That’s all you need sometimes, isn’t it? A friendly ear without opinions or tuts or judgemental comments.
‘You must be Dave.’ He reached out an arm. The two of them shook hands. Then we followed Theo up dingy wooden stairs. In fact the whole place looked rundown, with cobwebs and lampshade-less lightbulbs emitting blinding light. However, finally we entered a properly lit up room with fluorescent lighting, curtains and a heater. Wow, what a contrast, with huge mirrors all around and highly polished beech laminate floors. In the corner was a CD player.
‘Don’t you normally hold classes on a Thursday night?’ I said.
‘Nah. Need to give my hips a rest one day of the week,’ he said and grinned. ‘I teach all the other weekday nights and then spend my Saturday and Sunday evenings Cuban clubbing.’
Dave shuffled from foot to foot, in his waterproof and jogging suit. We both wore trainers – better prepare myself, I’d thought, in case Theo expected me to take part. He strode over to the CD player and pressed play. Immediately my foot tapped to the rhythm, which reminded me of my gran’s much loved Julio Iglesias albums.
‘Off with that jacket, Dave,’ said Theo and rubbed his hands together. ‘Mikey, can you turn the music up a tad. It helps lessen people’s inhibitions.’
The three of us smiled and when I got back the two men stood side by side.
‘Right, Dave – we won’t pair up to start with. Plenty of people dance on their own at salsa clubs. First things first – remember the two main principles of salsa: sassiness and emotion. Let your heart and the music instruct your feet. Let your passion move the hips. And this…’ he smiled, ‘… is the basic step of salsa all beginners must learn: start in the neutral position with your feet next to each other. Then forward with the left, lift the right up and down and then bring the left foot back. So that is quick, quick, slow. And again quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, slow. Then when you are back in the neutral position, go back with the right, place the left up and down, and then return the right foot to the neutral position.’
How to Get Hitched in Ten Days Page 6