‘Cool,’ she says, impressed.
Well, sort of. I press on. There’s time enough for explanations of the tawdry truth. ‘The second day, it totally poured down all the time. I did go out for an hour or so in the morning. By myself. But the rain was biblical. Everywhere flooded. We had brunch together in a café, but couldn’t go really go anywhere to do sightseeing. We’d have drowned. They closed most of the metro stations in the area and we couldn’t get a taxi for love nor money.’
‘Sounds like the perfect excuse for staying in bed all day.’
‘We did. Well, the whole afternoon,’ I concede. ‘I had hoped to see a bit more of Paris. From what little I did glimpse, it looked great.’
‘So how did you get on with Shagger, though? Is he all he’s cracked up to be in the sack? Or is it quantity over quality?’
‘We got on fine,’ I admit. ‘Some bits of him are great.’
Charlie snarfs. ‘Which particular bits are we talking about?’
‘He’s very sexy. No doubt about that.’ Then I think that I might as well come clean. I don’t know whether Mason will keep our adventures to himself or whether they will quickly become the talk of the pub. I wouldn’t like Charlie to hear this from anyone else. She would kill me then. ‘He’s a little bit too … adventurous … for my tastes.’
‘Aye, aye!’ At that she perks up. ‘Exactly how … adventurous … are we talking? Silk scarves, blindfolds, toys?’
I wince as I admit, ‘We had a threesome.’
Charlie guffaws. ‘Seriously?’ She doubles up with laughter on the bench. ‘You dirty mare. I can’t let you out of my sight for five minutes and you’re up to no good. What kind of threesome?’
‘How many kinds are there?’
‘Two guys?’
‘No, no, no.’
‘Another woman?’
I nod, unable to voice my shame.
‘God, that is a bit kinky. Did you enjoy it?’
‘Not really. It was well weird.’
She belly laughs again. ‘Who’d have thought?’
‘Not me,’ I say firmly. ‘It never crossed my mind that he’d be into that. In my defence, I’d had a lot to drink.’ And, if I’m honest with myself, I really didn’t know how to say no without causing a scene. It seemed easier to go along with it. Does that make me pathetic? I think perhaps it does. But you don’t really have time to rehearse an exit strategy for these kinds of situations, do you? ‘For the record, I’m never touching brandy again.’
‘Was that her name?’
‘Haha, very funny. She was called Valerie, if you must know, and was the receptionist at the hotel.’
‘Blimey. Does she give all the guests a “happy ending”?’
‘I’ve no idea and I don’t want to know.’ I feel myself go pink again at the thought.
Charlie giggles again at my discomfiture. ‘No wonder you had no energy for sightseeing.’
‘That’s partly why I sloped off by myself in the morning. They were still sleeping and I needed to get out of the place. I couldn’t face either of them.’ I push away the image of Valerie and Mason still in bed while wondering whether they slept together when I left. Not that it matters. Far from it. ‘I was mortified, Charlie.’
‘I’m not bloody surprised.’
‘It did mean that I saw the Eiffel Tower.’
‘You could hardly bloody miss it,’ Charlie notes. ‘I could probably see it from here if I looked hard enough.’
‘It’s fair to say that my romantic weekend with our boss wasn’t quite the resounding success I’d hoped for.’ I clutch at my coffee for comfort. ‘You did warn me.’
‘Oh, Ruby,’ she says. ‘What am I going to do with you?’
‘I can see why you stick to Gary Barlow now.’
‘Gary would never have a threesome. He’s far too wholesome.’ She looks all faraway for a moment before adding, ‘So, are you seeing Shagger again?’
‘No. That was more than enough.’ Though, in my weaker moments, I still have an image of the eight-year-old boy being packed off to boarding school tugging at my heartstrings.
‘You’ve not developed a taste for the steamier side of sex?’
‘No,’ I say vehemently. ‘I’ve learned my lesson. I’m only going out with nice men from now on.’
‘You can’t have Gary Barlow,’ she says. ‘Not even on your laminated list. That baby’s mine. We’re not going to share that one, you and your sleazy threesomes.’
I hang my head in shame. ‘Don’t remind me.’ I think the problem is that I’m sure Mason would have been happy in Paris with anyone. It wasn’t me he wanted to take. Despite what he said, he wasn’t really hankering after my sparkling company. Mason just wanted some fun. By fun, I mean lots of sex. Anyone would have done. That doesn’t make me feel so great.
‘Take That are playing Paris in the summer. You and I should go there together. We’d have great fun. And we’d see stuff.’ Charlie kicks her legs against the bench. ‘The fan club are organising a trip. We could do some sightseeing. Take in all the tourist bits that you missed.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ I would have a good time with Charlie. I know that. Then my mobile pings and it’s a text from Mason. Hope you enjoyed the weekend. I’ll call you. Let’s have dinner soon. I turn my phone and show it to Charlie.
‘Dinner, eh?’
‘He’s just being polite,’ I say. ‘There’s no way he’ll call and, even if he does, there’s no way I’m having dinner with him.’
And I mean it. Honestly, I do.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mason actually calls me a dozen times, maybe more. I let them all go to voicemail. There’s nothing I want to say to him and there’s certainly nothing I want to do with him of an intimate nature. I’ve had my head down for the last two days, just doing my job, earning a meagre crust. I’ve swerved out of work dead on time too so that I’d avoid him, but Charlie tells me that he hasn’t been into the pub at the end of the day as he sometimes does. I can only hope that it’s not going to be difficult between us when he does, eventually, rock up. We’re grown-ups. We can handle this.
On Wednesday morning, when my phone rings again, I’m about to leave it unanswered then I glance at the number and it isn’t Mason. It’s Joe and my heart pitter-patters a bit even though I don’t want it to.
‘Hi,’ I say when I pick up.
‘Hi Ruby. It’s Joe Edwards. Sorry to bother you, but I’m calling to say that I can’t make our lesson tonight.’
‘Oh. I thought Bob was teaching me now.’
‘He’s not able to make it either. We’re short-handed so we’ve had to cancel the session. It doesn’t happen often and normal service should be resumed next week. I’m sorry.’
‘I hope nothing’s wrong.’
‘Work-related issues for me. We’re doing our first film show for the public at the centre – I managed to raise some funds. My colleague was due to be on duty, but she’s sprained her ankle and is laid up for a few days. I’ve stepped into the breach.’
‘That’s very noble,’ I say. ‘I hope you enjoy the film.’
‘I’m not sure it’s my bag,’ Joe laughs. ‘We decided to let the residents choose what we show. This one’s going to be Love, Actually.’
‘Oh, that’s a great movie. One of my favourites.’
There’s a pause which goes on a bit too long, before Joe says, ‘Would you like to come along? As my guest. I’d be glad of your support.’
Before my brain has time to process the invitation, my mouth already says, ‘Yes. That would be lovely.’
‘Are you happy to come along by yourself? I’ve got to get there early to set things up and I’m sure you don’t want to hang around, otherwise I’d pick you up. The film starts at eight o’clock, but we’re serving drinks in the bar beforehand.’
‘I’m working until seven, so I’ll come along straight after that.’
‘Perfect. I’ll see you later.’
Then I hang up an
d wonder if I’ve actually just organised myself a date. I can’t have. Can I?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Sunshine Woods community is to the south of Costa del Keynes which makes it handy for me to drive to when I leave work as it’s barely ten minutes from the Butcher’s Arms. I get changed quickly in the staffroom – clean white shirt, beige cigarette-cut trousers, black heels. I fluff my hair, spray myself with a waft of Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb and put some lippy on too. Looks as if I’m saying I made an effort, but not too much. I hope so, anyway.
Now I swing into the complex and park up. It’s bigger than I’d imagined with a couple of dozen small houses arranged around a pretty courtyard. Each one has a French door that opens onto a small lawn and there are well-tended flowerbeds in full bloom with the last of the spring flowers. There’s a café here too, closed now, and I can see a small hall ahead of me. A sign in slightly wonky writing says, film, this way!, so I pick my way through the manicured garden. In the foyer there are a few people already gathering and as I step inside, I see Joe all spruced up in a white polo shirt and black jeans standing with one of the residents. He smiles when he sees me and it’s filled with a warmth so genuine that, for a moment, it takes me aback.
‘Hi Ruby,’ he says. ‘I’m glad you could make it. I wasn’t sure you would.’
‘I said I’d come.’
‘Billy,’ he says to the man with him. ‘This is my friend, Ruby. Say hello and ask her would she like a programme.’
The man is probably in his forties and has Down’s Syndrome. ‘Hello, Ruby. Would you like a programme?’
‘I would. Thank you.’
He hands one to me with a smile. ‘I like you. Have you got a husband?’
That kind of question still manages to take the wind out of my sails. I expect everyone thinks I’d be happily settled down by now. ‘No,’ I smile. ‘Sadly not.’
‘I don’t know why. She’s nice, isn’t she, Joe?’
‘Yes, she’s lovely,’ Joe agrees. ‘Let me get you a drink. Remember to say hello to everyone who comes in, Billy. Don’t ask all the ladies if they’ve got a husband.’
‘OK.’ He grins at us both.
Joe steers me towards the bar. ‘Sorry about that. Billy’s great, but sometimes he’s a bit over-familiar. He wants to marry everyone he meets.’
‘Ah. And I thought it was just me.’
Joe laughs and slips behind the small bar in the corner to join a young barman standing stiffly with a tea towel over his arm. ‘What can we get for you, madam?’ Joe asks. ‘Wine? Red? White?’
‘I’d better not while I’m driving. A Coke will do.’
‘Happy to do that, Eamon?’ The barman nods enthusiastically. ‘Don’t forget to ask if your customer would like ice and a slice of lemon.’
‘Ice? Lemon?’
‘Yes, please.’
When it’s done, Eamon lifts the glass as if he has a nest of delicate bird’s eggs in his hands and places it in front of me with a satisfied beam.
‘Excellent,’ Joe says. ‘That’s great, mate. Well done.’
Eamon proudly smooths down the front of his shirt.
‘I’ll come back when you have your next customer.’ We walk towards the window which looks out onto the garden. ‘All our residents need assistance to be independent. This sort of thing helps with their confidence and interpersonal skills, but we’ve never attempted anything on this scale before. Everyone’s a bit over-excited. Except me,’ he adds. ‘I’m a bag of nerves.’
‘It looks like a lovely place.’
‘Yeah,’ Joe says. ‘On the whole, it is. We have our ups and downs like anywhere, but they’re a great bunch of people who live on the campus and we have a good team. It’s a privilege to work here. Which is just as well as the pay is shocking.’
‘Like any vocation.’
‘The only difficulty is that I can’t always swerve out of here on the dot of five or whenever my shift ends.’ He tries to keep his eye on all of his charges as he talks. ‘Juggling childcare is an art form. One I’ve not quite mastered. Still, the kids are getting older. It won’t be long before they can start to look after themselves a bit more.’
‘Where are they tonight?’
‘With Gina.’ He glances over his shoulder. ‘I’ve reserved seats for us on the front row, right by the aisle – just in case I need to pop out quickly. It’s a small audience tonight – only about thirty people. Mainly friends and family of the residents. We wanted to run this as a trial to see if it works out OK before we unleash it onto the general public.’
‘Everyone seems to be doing well.’ There’s a girl in her twenties selling sweets. Someone at the door taking tickets.
‘Two of the residents who are in a relationship have chosen the film tonight. We wanted to make sure as many of them as possible were involved.’
‘Sounds like a great idea.’
‘I can’t take any of the credit for it,’ he admits. ‘It was my colleague who came up with this one.’ Then he sighs. ‘All I’m doing is talking about myself. I haven’t asked you how your weekend in Paris was with your partner.’
‘He’s not really my partner. It’s more of a casual thing. I’m not even sure we’re friends as such.’ Joe raises an eyebrow and I realise that sounds wrong. ‘Paris was OK.’
‘You’re not bowling me over with your enthusiasm. Shall I cross it off my bucket list?’
‘It’s a long story, but it wasn’t quite what I expected.’ He looks as if he wants to ask me more, but I’m not really keen to reveal much more about my trip. To explain what Mason and I are to each other seems way too complicated. ‘It rained a lot.’
‘Oh.’
Then a couple head towards Eamon at the bar and I’m quite relieved when Joe says, ‘Mind if I leave you for five minutes to help out? Go through when you’re ready or you can chat to some of the residents.’
‘I’ll get us some sweets.’ The foyer is filling up now, so I go to the counter and buy a box of Maltesers and chat to the young girl about the film.
Over by the bar, Joe claps his hands. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, our film will be starting shortly, if you’d like to take your seats.’
Making my way to the door, I then linger until Joe is free to join me. I can tell that he’s torn between spending time with me and making sure that everything goes smoothly for the evening. I quite like that. It’s sort of cute. I can see that he’s a genuinely kind and caring person.
Eventually, he comes towards me and takes my arm. ‘Let’s go and see what Hugh Grant has to offer.’
‘This isn’t your kind of film?’
‘I don’t mind a rom-com. Years of being married has brainwashed me, but I’m feeling too cynical to buy into a happy ending at the moment. Plus I still prefer something with a car chase and Vin Diesel doing bad things,’ he says with a smile. ‘At least the kids have stopped watching wall-to-wall Disney and Pixar. There was a time when I knew more about The Little Mermaid than a man should.’
I laugh at that. Joe looks like a man who’d be comfortable watching Disney and Pixar films. Unbidden, I get a flashback to my … er … torrid time … in the hotel with Mason and think that, as men, they couldn’t be more different.
‘If you’re good,’ he says. ‘I’ll buy you an ice cream in the interval.’
‘I have snacks to keep us going until then.’ I hold up the Maltesers.
‘My kind of woman,’ he says and, for a moment, part of me hopes that I am.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Two of the residents sit at the front of the auditorium in front of the screen. They’re middle-aged and are holding hands tightly.
‘I’m Emily,’ the woman says, beaming shyly. ‘And this is my boyfriend, Graham.’
‘This is our favourite film,’ Graham says. ‘It’s the film we saw on our first date.’
‘Second date,’ Emily corrects. ‘On our first date we went bowling.’
‘That wasn’t really a date as there were
other people there,’ Graham insists. ‘We watch it every week.’
‘Twice a week,’ she corrects.
‘My girlfriend likes Alan Rickman.’
‘I don’t,’ Emily chips in. ‘He cheats on his wife.’
‘Only in the film,’ Graham counters.
‘He buys a necklace, but it’s not actually for her,’ Emily tells us.
‘It’s a good job you’ve seen it,’ Joe whispers to me.
‘I thought you liked him.’ Graham is clearly piqued. ‘You said you did.’
‘I didn’t.’ She’s very affronted now. ‘I only like him in Robin Hood.’
‘You said this was your favourite film.’
‘I like Notting Hill better.’
‘Guys, guys,’ Joe says. ‘Not a good time for a domestic. Introduce the film.’
‘This is Love, Actually by Richard Curtis,’ Graham says. ‘We hope that you enjoy it.’
As we applaud, they stand up and take their seats in the front row. Emily takes the opportunity to dig her beau sharply in the ribs. The lights go down and the film starts.
I know it’s cheesier than a ripe Camembert but I love this film. Even the opening sequence makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. It’s not high art, I get that, but it pushes all my buttons. Unrequited love, heartbreak, misunderstandings, longing, loss – frankly, all of my life is written large here. I’ll cry at the end, I know I will. I always do. I check that I’ve got a tissue in my back pocket.
It feels weird sitting here with Joe in the dark. Weirdly nice. His arm is resting lightly against mine and I don’t know if it’s deliberate or whether the seats are just too close together. The warmth of his big solid body is comforting. Maybe it would be nice to go on a proper date with him, I think – as Graham views it. Just us and no one else. A date where we aren’t doing something like scuba-diving or he’s working. Perhaps it might happen, in time. If he sorts himself out with his ex and his kids. I wonder how long that will take? I could be on one of those wheelie walking frames by then. I offer him the box of Maltesers and he dips in.
Million Love Songs Page 14