When I Fall in Love

by Miranda Dickinson

  Despite her ‘hypothetical’ conversation with Woody yesterday, Elsie wasn’t expecting to witness this scene quite so quickly. ‘Blimey, you didn’t hang about, did you?’

  ‘Elsie, time is a mere fly in the ointment of happiness when matters of the heart are involved,’ Woody replied. ‘I had a lot of time to ponder my future in that prison cell and all I could think of was this heavenly creature.’ He gazed lovingly at Cher’s greatest assets as she wiggled them saucily at him.

  Elsie couldn’t repress the shudder as she smiled back. ‘Well, I’m very happy for the pair of you. Just one piece of advice, Cher: if he takes you out on a date, make sure you choose the venue. His judgement of happening night spots isn’t so hot.’

  Woody clutched at his heart. ‘You cut me deep, angel!’

  Pushing him away, Cher chuckled as she pulled the blackboard menu from the hooks in the wall by the counter and chalked up today’s list of ice cream flavours. ‘I bet this one had you scared for a while.’

  ‘He did. I had visions of us all being investigated as collaborators. One thing’s for sure, I won’t be recommending the French police station as a must-see Paris landmark!’

  ‘Little wonder.’ Her smile faded as she faced Elsie. ‘So how about Olly?’

  ‘Olly was amazing. He drove us back and forth to the police station, kept me calm and was there when we needed him. Not to mention driving the choir all the way to Paris and back.’

  Cher’s eyes narrowed. ‘That’s great, but it wasn’t what I meant.’

  Elsie carried a large chocolate vanilla marble fudge cake from the catering fridge into the café, placing it carefully on a 1950s cut-glass cake stand on the counter. ‘He told me that he’s mine if I want him.’

  ‘Oh, Els, that’s amazing! Isn’t it?’

  Elsie had thought of nothing else all last night, any chance of sleeping denied by the urgency of her thoughts. Instead, she had taken her duvet downstairs and huddled on the sofa, watching the BBC News channel with the sound off as she tried to make sense of her feelings.

  Olly was a wonderful man – there were countless reasons why she should throw caution to the wind and run into his arms. He cared for her, he was there when she needed him and, until his outburst in the car park, he had never once demanded anything in return. Being in his arms at the police station had felt like the safest place. His kisses at the beginning of their friendship had been fantastic – there was no denying the chemistry between them. Her family adored him – especially Daisy, who seemed to have become his biggest fan in Paris – and the choir now loved him too. There was every reason in the world for Elsie to fall in love with him.

  And yet … try as she might, she couldn’t escape the feeling that something was missing. In recent months, she had put this down to the inevitable comparisons she was making with Lucas – a contest Olly could never hope to win. Perhaps, she had thought, her reticence was borne out of trepidation about loving someone again, of starting at page one of a new book after reading War and Peace. But for all her reasons and all her excuses, one unavoidable fact remained: that if she felt for Olly even a fraction of what he professed to feel for her, there would have been no hesitation whatsoever. Lucas had known it – in his many attempts to talk about the relationships Elsie would have after him, he had insisted that she would know without doubt when to fall in love.

  ‘Your instinct is stronger than anyone else I know. I can’t see you being in two minds about this, even if the thought of it terrifies you. One of the things I admire the most about you is your resolve, Els. It’s like a beacon of surety within you and it’s led us well all the time we’ve been together. When you fall in love again, that will be your best guide.’

  When I fall in love …

  ‘Can I take an extra hour at lunchtime?’ she asked Cher, who immediately understood the reason behind her request.

  ‘Of course, lovely. You take all the time you need.’

  They met in BiblioCaff, the familiar surroundings providing a suitably neutral venue for the conversation Elsie was now dreading. Olly had ordered coffee and sandwiches, which neither of them managed to touch – and from the way he was observing her it was as if he already suspected the outcome of their meeting.

  ‘Busy day?’ Elsie asked, trying her best to keep her voice steady.

  ‘Not bad. We’ve won a couple of good pitches with new customers, so that should keep us occupied well into next year. You?’ Today he seemed more handsome than ever, his fitted blue and white striped shirt and dark blue trousers matching the colour of his eyes.

  ‘Trade’s falling off a little now. But Cher has plans for Bonfire Night and Christmas promotions, so that might tempt more people in.’ She took a breath. ‘Olly …’

  ‘Wait – before you say anything, I just wanted to apologise for what I said yesterday evening. It was completely out of order and the last thing I wanted to do was to put you on the spot.’

  ‘Olly, it’s fine. I’m not quite sure where to start … I want you to know that I think the world of you …’

  Olly’s head dropped. ‘No, don’t say it …’

  ‘I have to, I’m sorry! I love spending time with you and it’s true that I’m very attracted to you. Everything you’ve done for me, all the time you’ve waited when you shouldn’t have had to … it’s all been completely wonderful and I love having you in my life. But I can’t be the woman you want me to be. And believe me, I wish with all my heart that I could. You deserve the best, Olly – the best that there is. You deserve someone who won’t need a reason to fall in love with you …’

  ‘Maybe you just need time,’ he argued, stubborn hope still burning in his eyes as they met hers. ‘I rushed you – I made you decide too early …’

  ‘No, I should have decided the moment we kissed. I should never have made you wait so long, when all you’ve ever done is be honest with me about how you feel.’

  ‘Elsie, please, let me be the judge of that.’ The pain in his eyes broke her heart and she hated herself for being the cause of it.

  ‘I have to follow my heart,’ she said. ‘I can’t do anything else.’

  He stared at her for a long time, his eyes impossibly sad. Then, he reached across and took her hand. ‘Then you shouldn’t have to. Just don’t disappear from my life completely, will you?’

  ‘Not if you don’t want me to.’

  ‘I might need to take some time away from this – just to get my head round it all. But I’ll get over it. You haven’t seen the last of me, Elsie.’

  ‘I know. I really am sorry, Olly.’

  ‘I expect we’ll laugh about this one day.’ He didn’t look convinced by this. ‘So, friends, then?’

  Elsie smiled and squeezed his hand. ‘Friends.’

  Walking back to Sundae & Cher, Elsie felt as if she’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer, but she knew her decision was the right one. Olly’s reaction confirmed this – although his utter decency in the face of her rejection was further proof of the calibre of the man she was refusing. In the late October afternoon she let the familiar sights and sounds of her home town soothe her battered spirit. Brighton knew her better than anyone – even Lucas. Despite everything that had happened in her life, this town had been her constant companion; her highest and lowest days had been set with its Pier, sea, promenade, Royal Pavilion, gardens and Lanes as a backdrop. Today, as the few remaining tourists braved the autumnal temperatures along the seafront and local people went about their daily business around her, she felt certain that Brighton was going to witness her future, too. Whatever that was.

  Cher asked few questions about Elsie’s meeting with Olly: the expression she had worn when she returned had obviously answered any questions her boss might have had. After an uneventful afternoon with few customers, Cher closed the shop as Elsie changed into a long white and silver Indian print tunic, skinny jeans and black boots for her meeting with Torin. As a final touch, she wound the summer-blue, cherry-blossom-print silk scarf fro
m Daisy round her neck, which had retained the orange blossom scent of the drawer liners in the hotel room in Montparnasse. Wearing it reminded her of the newness she had felt after her visit to the Eiffel Tower and the peace she had encountered on the roof terrace of La Fantasmagorie.

  ‘Wow, you look different,’ Cher remarked, when Elsie emerged from the staff toilet. ‘Is this your new Parisian look?’

  Elsie smiled. ‘You could say that.’

  Cher kissed her cheek. ‘Have fun tonight. I will expect details tomorrow, Madame Maynard. Don’t let him get away with being a cocky so-and-so, OK?’

  ‘Mais naturellement, ma chérie. À bientôt!’

  Perhaps wisely, given the debacle with Jake and Cher, Torin had decided against The Feathers as a venue for their early evening drink and Elsie was glad of this. Everything around her felt new since she returned from Paris, so new surroundings seemed fitting for their first non-confrontational meeting.

  Added to this, Torin’s choice of venue couldn’t have been more uniquely Brighton: The Fortune of War pub, on the seafront, summed up the town perfectly. Its beautiful wood-lined bar, shaped to resemble an upturned boat, and the large seating area on the beach itself had been a favourite haunt of Jim in his teenage years and the place where Elsie bought her first pint on her eighteenth birthday. Eccentrically British with all the flamboyance Brighton was famed for, the pub was the perfect setting.

  When Elsie arrived, the seats on the beach and across its frontage were already filled, despite the cool October evening. Torin, dressed in a black shirt, indigo fitted jeans and blue Converse sneakers, was waiting at a table under the front canopy and stood as she approached.

  ‘I would have ordered a round of drinks, but I seem to remember you insisting that you were paying,’ he said as they sat down.

  ‘That’s what I said. So what can I get you?’

  ‘Bottle of lager, thanks.’

  ‘Coming up.’ Elsie wandered into the bar and returned a few minutes later with Torin’s order and a glass of red wine for herself.

  ‘Is this table good? I thought it would give us a good view of the beach, although if it gets too chilly we can always go inside.’

  ‘This is fine. You know, I haven’t been in here for years. Nothing seems to have changed much, though.’

  Torin smiled and Elsie noticed how relaxed he seemed this evening. ‘I come here occasionally with my mates from the rugby club. So, what’s with the red wine? Did Paris rub off on you?’

  ‘I just fancied it. And this is Bulgarian, so it’s a little different from the stuff we all became very accustomed to this weekend. Plus, the plastic glass sets it apart, don’t you think?’

  ‘I’ll say. Although the wine at La Fantasmagorie was something else.’

  ‘It was.’ The mention of the rooftop restaurant prompted Elsie to pick up her bag. ‘That reminds me, you left something behind up there.’ She handed him his Filofax and, completely taken aback, he accepted it from her.

  ‘Oh, thank heaven! I turned my house upside down last night looking for this. My whole life is in this organiser.’

  ‘I had a feeling you might say that.’

  ‘Where did I leave it?’

  ‘On our table on Sunday night. One of the waiters noticed it and brought it down to us.’

  ‘Stunning, simply stunning,’ he breathed, gazing at the slightly battered leather folder as if it were a priceless artefact in the British Museum. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  The conversation between them ebbed as a crowd of rowdy students began to mock one of their number on the beach. Overhead, the sky began to redden as gilt-edged clouds glided along the line where the ocean met the sky.

  ‘I’m impressed – with us, I mean,’ Torin remarked, causing Elsie’s eyes to return to him. ‘Almost fifteen minutes in and no sign of conflict yet.’

  ‘Mind you, it’s still early. Things could change at any time.’

  ‘True. Forgive me, I’m curious: what made you agree to try this?’

  Elsie shrugged as she swallowed a mouthful of wine. ‘No reason.’

  He frowned. ‘No, I’m not having that. Something must have changed your mind.’

  ‘Careful, Mr Stewart, or we might not make it to twenty conflict-free minutes.’

  ‘Good point. So, did everyone arrive home safely?’

  ‘Yes, thank goodness. Olly brought us all back in one piece.’

  Torin’s expression flickered. ‘Olly. Listen, I’m sorry about what I said on Sunday. You were right: it wasn’t my place to pass judgement.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t.’ The mention of Olly’s name made a knot appear in Elsie’s stomach. ‘But you were right.’ It was more candid than she had planned to be this evening, but felt like the right thing to share.

  He blinked. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You were right about him and I. He challenged me about where we stood when we arrived home yesterday and today I told him I couldn’t be any more than friends.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘So, there it is.’

  ‘How did he take the news?’

  Her discomfort returned. ‘How do you think? Anyway, it’s done and there really isn’t anything else to say about it.’

  Receiving the message loud and clear, Torin picked up a menu from the table. ‘I’m starving, aren’t you?’

  Nice side step, Mr Stewart. ‘Not particularly. But you go ahead.’

  He grinned back. ‘I would hazard a guess that if I order a bowl of chips you’ll help me eat them.’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

  ‘Excellent. Back in a tick.’

  Elsie watched him disappear into the pub and took a deep breath. Spending so much time with him without their usual default of conflict felt strange – like the feeling you get when you take a stone out of your shoe and walking without it feels alien for a while. At least during arguments Elsie’s quick mind could see where to head next. Now, she found herself daunted by the prospect of an entire evening of non-contentious conversation. Torin Stewart without his preferred armour of smugness and superiority was a strange animal indeed.

  Of course, this was only their first attempt, she reminded herself, and so far their conversation had remained carefully within the boundaries of small talk. How they would fare when approaching anything deeper remained to be seen. But it felt good – and Elsie couldn’t deny how much she was enjoying the experience. Torin returned with a wooden table number and their careful conversation continued. They talked about work, the experience in the police station, The Sundaes, their families and even their plans for Christmas. The bowl of chips arrived and, just as Torin had predicted, Elsie dipped into them as the conversation began to veer into slightly more personal areas – Torin’s divorce and Lucas’ illness.

  ‘How did you discover he was ill?’

  ‘He started complaining of pains in his lower abdomen about six months before he was eventually diagnosed and lost a lot of weight quite quickly. Our doctor tested him for lots of different things, but all the results were inconclusive. The cancer he had is really rare in people of his age, so I don’t think the doctors even considered it for a long time. In the end, it was a new specialist we saw who decided to run the test, just to rule it out.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Elsie.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For your loss. He sounds like a wonderful guy.’

  She smiled. ‘He was.’

  ‘I suppose after losing someone like that you can’t ever imagine loving anyone else.’

  Elsie bit into a hot chip, the steam warming her lips. ‘Not straight away, no. But Lucas kept telling me I would find someone else. Even when I didn’t want to hear it. He was stubborn like that. So that’s where I’m at now – thinking about dating, looking to the future. I will fall in love again.’

  His eyes grew still. ‘Will you? And how will you know when you do?’

  A shiver passed across Elsie’s skin. The thought of th
is had been on her mind since she left the Eiffel Tower. ‘I’ll know. I’m looking forward to it, actually. When Lucas and I married I never thought I’d feel that first thrill with anyone else. But now I’ll get to experience it again.’

  ‘I can’t even remember what it’s like – with Cass every good memory was obliterated by all the acrimonious fallout.’

  ‘It’s wonderful,’ Elsie breathed. ‘There’s this moment, just before it happens, when everything around you goes still. It’s like that moment you get just before it snows – like nature is holding its breath … And in that moment, anything is possible, and everything you know is called into question. Believe me, I’ll know when that moment comes.’

  He was staring at her now. ‘And when it does?’

  ‘Then I’ll close my eyes and jump.’

  He fell silent, his gaze drifting away to the beach beyond.

  In an attempt to drag the conversation back to safer territory, Elsie added, ‘But, you know, that’s just me. I guess it’s different for everyone.’ She looked down at the near-empty basket between them. ‘I’m sorry, I appear to have eaten a lot of your chips after saying I wasn’t going to.’

  ‘Not a problem.’ He stood, popping the last two chips into his mouth. ‘Another drink?’

  ‘Why not? Same again, please.’

  The sun was starting to dip in the sky, its perfect circle increasing in size as it slipped slowly down. As Elsie watched, the colours deepened – gold, red, pink and purple, with ice-blue clouds floating across the wide expanse of sky. After the excitement and undeniable beauty of Paris, it was wonderful to be home.

  A gaggle of seagulls took off from the roof of the pub and coasted on air currents overhead. The students on the beach had begun singing a Bon Jovi classic, adding some air-guitar that Woody himself would have been proud of. And Elsie felt an air of serenity touching everything.