She desperately wanted to return the ring in time. Somehow it felt like her own happy ending was dependent on Lewis and his girlfriend getting theirs. Ruby broke into a run and Curtis followed. They reached the base of the wheel where a massive queue wound around it. Ruby pictured Lewis in her mind. His leather jacket was quite distinctive but there were hordes of people.
‘Now what?’ asked Ruby, catching her breath. She really needed to do more exercise.
‘Ticket office,’ said Curtis, marching into a nearby building.
They joined a short queue. Ruby was sure she could hear actual seconds ticking by in her head.
‘Next,’ said a smiley woman and they both charged forward.
‘We believe a proposal is about to happen and—’ started Curtis.
‘But he dropped the ring and I found it,’ butted in Ruby.
‘Do you have a name?’ asked the woman.
‘Lewis,’ said Ruby proudly.
‘Last name?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Curtis.
‘Did they book a pod?’ asked the woman.
‘Dunno,’ said Ruby. ‘He was proposing at four o’clock. I guess that’s what time he had tickets for.’
‘Let me have a look.’ The woman smiled but it was one of those smiles that said they were wasting her time and she was humouring them. More seconds thudded past. ‘I’m sorry. No private pods booked this afternoon. There’s one this evening for a corporate event but that’s all.’
Ruby felt her shoulders sag. This wasn’t the result she wanted.
‘Could I leave my card in case Lewis gets in touch?’ Curtis passed his card under the glass.
‘Okay. Can I help you with anything else?’ she asked.
‘No,’ said Ruby, managing to convey her glumness in the single word. It was four o’clock. They had failed their mission. Her big day out in London was a big waste of time.
‘Come on.’ Curtis steered her away. ‘He might still be in the queue or they might already be on the wheel in which case we can intercept them when they come off. He doesn’t have to have the ring to propose.’
‘You’re a bloody genius.’ Ruby was instantly heartened.
‘I scored 159 on an IQ test so technically I’m not a genius as you need 160 to …’ Ruby wasn’t listening. She was back on her mission to find Lewis. They rushed outside and towards the vast queue. Curtis started scanning the crowd. Ruby had a better idea.
‘LEW-IS!’ she yelled at the top of her voice. Most of the people turned in her direction. She tried again just to catch any stragglers. ‘LEW-IS!’
Hundreds of faces stared at them but none of them were Lewis. An attendant in a red uniform stepped forward. ‘Can I help you?’
‘We’re looking for someone called Lewis,’ said Curtis.
‘Call me Sherlock Holmes but I gathered that.’ The attendant grinned at them and they both stared back with humourless expressions.
‘He’s proposing to his girlfriend here this afternoon.’ Ruby checked her watch. ‘At like now o’clock. But he lost the ring and we found it.’
‘Right. Not sure there’s anything we can do.’ The attendant shrugged his shoulders.
‘Thank you. We’ll wait,’ said Curtis, guiding Ruby away from the queue and over to a grassy area. Ruby plonked herself down and the familiar feeling of gloom rested on her again.
Curtis took off his jacket. ‘Up,’ he instructed.
Ruby did as she was told and he laid his jacket down for her to sit on. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re most welcome.’ He sat down beside her and they waited.
Ruby fixed her gaze on the pods that slowly came level with the ground. More attendants ushered the people out. None of them were Lewis. ‘We could be here for hours,’ she said with a huff.
‘Thirty minutes,’ said Curtis. ‘The wheel takes thirty minutes to complete one full rotation. If he’s not in the queue and he’s not come off within half an hour then we’ve missed him.’
‘Oh, okay. That’s not too bad.’ She watched closely as another pod glided in. The wheel was moving all the time and the people had to hop off. She studied the attendants as they helped an elderly lady off and there behind her was someone she thought she recognised. ‘Lewis.’
Ruby jumped to her feet and started to run but then realised she didn’t have the ring. She spun around. ‘Curtis. Ring!’
Chapter Nine
Ruby was filled with excitement. Curtis jumped to his feet and looked over the top of her head towards the wheel.
‘Where’s Lewis?’ he asked.
‘In the jacket and jeans. Bring the ring!’ She was going to save the day.
‘It’s not Lewis.’
‘What?’
Ruby turned back for a second look. Someone in jeans and a jacket, a similar colour to Lewis’s, was walking towards them but Curtis was right – it wasn’t Lewis. She watched the man walk past them. Ruby’s stomach plummeted. She’d thought for a moment that everything was going to be okay. Neither of them said anything; they simply returned to their positions sitting on Curtis’s suit jacket and continued the vigil.
Over the next thirty minutes Curtis checked his phone and tapped out a few messages but Ruby’s eyes didn’t leave the base of the wheel. She studied everyone coming out of each pod. The couples grabbed her attention the most. She told herself it was because she was looking for Lewis. The young couple who were laughing as they stepped out of the pod, clutching their sides as they shared a joke. The pair who looked like they were in a new relationship, all coy looks and indecision as to where to go next. The older couple holding hands and chatting, completely at ease in each other’s company. Why was that so hard for some people to attain?
Ruby wondered what it was like to see London from up there and then thought about the glass office earlier. She’d had a bird’s eye view of London without it costing her a penny. And a very nice free lunch too. Maybe her day wasn’t a total disaster. Then thoughts of her lost phone, the money she’d given to Neil and the turkey baster swam into her brain and reminded her that it was exactly that – a total disaster. She’d had a firm plan when she’d left home that morning and thanks to Lewis and Curtis the whole day had been derailed – and perhaps even the rest of her life. She let out a deep sigh, which caught Curtis’s attention.
He checked his watch. ‘It’s four forty-five,’ he said. ‘Perhaps he’s rearranged.’
Ruby flopped back onto the grass. The sun was warm. It was quite a nice spot. ‘What do we do now?’
‘I’m not sure about what we do. But I need to get back to St Pancras. And I’m assuming you have a train to catch too?’
‘I guess so,’ said Ruby.
‘It’s okay. The ticket you purchased is an open one. Which means you can get any train back.’
‘But I don’t want to give up on Lewis.’
‘I think you’ve done far more than most people would have done if faced with the same situation.’
She knew he was right but something inside her compelled her to keep trying. ‘Let’s have another look at the ring.’ She held out her hand.
Curtis scanned the area. ‘You are aware that London has a very high crime rate? Although statistically West Yorkshire has the highest rate of crime in England.’
‘And?’
‘And brandishing an expensive piece of jewellery in the open is both foolhardy and irresponsible.’
‘Is that a no?’ She fixed him with a hard stare.
He looked contrite. ‘I didn’t say that exactly.’ Curtis opened the side pocket of his laptop bag and handed her the ring box. She moved her body so she was facing Curtis and the box was shielded from prying eyes. She opened it carefully. Even though she’d seen it before the ring still took her breath away. The central diamond glinted magically in the sun. She tilted the box to read the wording inside the lid. ‘East’s Fine Jewellers since 1875. County Arcade, Leeds. Do you think they keep a record of what they sell?’
Curtis was watc
hing her intently and there was a delay before he spoke. ‘It’s possible. We could give them a call.’
‘Great idea.’
Curtis pulled out his phone, searched for the number of the jewellers and dialled. When someone answered he put the call on speakerphone so Ruby could listen.
‘Good afternoon, Easts,’ said a friendly but efficient female voice.
‘Good afternoon, I hope you can help me. I’ve found an item of jewellery and I’m trying to return it to the owner. The box and therefore its contents purport to have been purchased at your shop. I was wondering if you kept records of customer purchases and might be able to help us return the item?’ Ruby listened, rapt by what he said. Well, not so much by what he said, more the deep rhythmic sound of his voice.
‘We do keep records,’ said the woman. ‘However, due to data protection we wouldn’t be able to share any details with you I’m afraid.’
Ruby pouted. Curtis held up a finger. ‘I completely understand but if you were to contact the purchaser and pass on our details they could get in touch with us and be reunited with their item.’ Ruby gave him a double thumbs up.
‘If you’d like to bring the item in, we could certainly take a look.’
‘We’re currently in London,’ said Curtis. ‘Can we send a photograph?’
‘Sorry, we’d need to see the piece to be sure.’
‘I understand,’ said Curtis as Ruby slumped back on the grass. ‘Thank you for your help.’ He ended the call.
‘She was barely any help at all,’ said Ruby. ‘Now what do we do?’
‘How about we get a drink?’
‘What about the train home?’ she asked from her horizontal position.
‘Let’s aim for the two minutes past seven,’ he suggested. Trust him to know the train timetable off by heart.
‘Okay.’ There was nobody waiting for her at home, with the possible exception of her neighbour’s cat. Curtis helped her to her feet and picked up his jacket. ‘There was a sandwich bar near the bus stop,’ she suggested.
He smiled at her. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’
Kim’s hot flushes were worse this afternoon, probably because the shop caught the afternoon sun. She wasn’t sure if it was a change in the weather or the thought of the letter that was bringing them on. It wasn’t a busy day in the florist’s but Kim managed to find tasks to procrastinate over and avoid the inevitable. She’d brought her accounts up to date and she’d done a spot of googling about different dog breeds. She was really warming to the idea of getting a dog. In fact, after all the cute puppy videos she’d been watching online recently it was pretty much a done deal. She’d even scoped out where she would put the dog’s bed and water bowl when it was with her in the shop.
Despite all this the envelope kept taunting her every time she went into the back room, so she shoved it under some paperwork and went to serve customers. But it didn’t help because she knew it was there waiting for her. As it neared closing time, Kim marched into the back room and lifted up the papers to reveal the letter just as the door chimed. She dropped the pile.
‘Hang on, I’ll be there in a minute,’ she called.
‘It’s okay. I’m after Ruby,’ came the voice.
Kim hurriedly replaced the paperwork and stepped into the shop. It was Dean. He was probably a similar age to Ruby and his height, weight, and looks were all average. Apart from the most soulful dark eyes Kim had ever seen. Dean was what she’d term a sporadic regular. Sometimes they’d see him a couple of times a week for months and then he’d disappear for a while, like he had for the last couple of months.
‘Hello, stranger, what brings you back?’
‘I need something expensive and I was hoping Ruby would craft me one of her special messages.’
Some people knew exactly what to put on a note to accompany flowers, others kept it simple, and then there were the ones who hadn’t got a clue at all. Dean fell into the latter camp.
Whilst Ruby was an excellent florist, she wasn’t exactly known for her poetic prose. However, one day when all words had escaped Dean, she had penned something to go with his flowers and apparently it had hit the spot with the recipient. Since then she’d been his go-to person.
‘I’m sorry, Dean. Ruby’s not in today. Maybe I can help?’ Kim was keen not to lose a sale. The words ‘something expensive’ were still ringing in her ears.
Dean’s shoulders sagged. ‘It needs to say something. You know?’
Nope, Kim didn’t know. She really wasn’t sure what he was on about. ‘Absolutely. Shall we choose the stems first and then come up with the perfect note?’
Dean looked glum. ‘Okay.’
Kim went through to the cooler to pick out some of her best and most expensive blooms. When she’d finished, she had a stunning bouquet. It was like summer in her arms. ‘Smell those,’ she said, proffering the armful.
Dean sniffed. ‘Yeah, they’re all right. But what about the note? Ruby always knows what to put.’
Ruby and Kim had a theory about Dean – when the shop was quiet one of their favourite things to do was to speculate about the lives of customers. Given Dean’s intermittent flower-purchasing habits, they reckoned he had intense but brief relationships until he got dumped, which made him a little more needy next time. Whatever his story, it meant when he visited the shop it was usually a lucrative few weeks for Kim – something she was very grateful for.
‘Are we saying something specific with these?’ asked Kim, wrapping the bouquet in cellophane. Dean was scrunching up his features. ‘Sorry? Thank you? I love you?’ she offered.
Dean’s head shot up. ‘It’s only flowers ya know. But I want her to feel they’ve come from the heart.’
‘Then let’s say that,’ said Kim. ‘These come from the heart.’
Dean pouted whilst Kim put the finishing touches to the expensive creation. ‘Ruby wouldn’t put it like that though,’ he said at last.
Kim winced. She didn’t want to lose this sale. How would Ruby phrase it? ‘Got it. From my heart to yours,’ she said, feeling like she should do a ta-dah at the end.
Dean’s lips twisted. ‘Yeah, all right. That’ll have to do.’
Phew, she thought as she rang it through the till.
Kim made herself a cup of tea whilst wishing she was the sort of person who kept a bottle of gin at work. She pulled out the ominous letter from under the pile of papers and scowled at it. Her name was emblazoned on the front. Her heart began to race at the sight of the handwriting. The way the letter K had a sweeping curl to it was the giveaway; surely nobody else had writing like that. The thought of who had written it loomed large in her mind. The husband everyone thought was dead.
Vince had been in her thoughts all afternoon. He’d mainly been stomping around her head giving her a headache. Images of him were wallpapering her mind. Him laughing, snoozing on the sofa, raising a glass of fizz, expertly flipping burgers on the barbecue and finally him lying motionless in a hospital bed. The last picture was impossible to shift, like gum on your shoe.
She took her scissors and slit the envelope open. Out fell a neatly typed letter. She took a deep steadying breath and skim-read it. Her mouth was dry despite the tea. How could this be happening? Her pulse quickened with every word she read. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Heat swept over her. She flapped her top to cool herself down. After a sip of tea she tried to reread it, properly this time.
Kim reached the end, snatched up the letter, scrunched it into a tight ball and hurled it into the wastepaper bin. That might work for now, but she knew she could no longer ignore the truth, however much she wished she could.
Chapter Ten
They took a leisurely stroll alongside the Thames and Curtis pointed out a few sights. Ruby was impressed with the Royal Festival Hall and, once they had crossed over Waterloo Bridge to the other side of the river, even more wowed by Somerset House. They chatted amiably, although she was more of a talker than he was. She was dazzled b
y the Savoy Hotel, tucked down a side street, which she definitely would have missed if Curtis hadn’t pointed it out. They turned a few corners and she found herself in an open cobbled courtyard.
Curtis stopped walking. Ruby looked about her. It was familiar.
‘Curtis,’ she said, giving him a friendly nudge. ‘Covent Garden?’
‘You said you wanted to visit.’ Ruby put on her sunglasses and tried to take everything in: the pub on the corner like it was straight out of an old gangster film, the cobbled street and all the little shops. Tourists were taking selfies with a bright red telephone box and beyond that an old building had centre stage.
‘That’s the market building,’ explained Curtis, following her gaze. ‘There’s been a market here for over three hundred and fifty years, but this building was built almost two hundred years ago.’
There was so much to see. ‘Ooh, pretty shoes,’ she said, spotting Kurt Geiger’s.
‘Right. If you have a look in there, I’ll be back in ten minutes,’ said Curtis. ‘Then we can have a drink and something to eat?’
‘Okay.’
He turned and walked off.
Ruby checked out all the latest designs and even tried a couple on from the sale section. She couldn’t afford them but it was fun to pretend. When she emerged, Curtis was waiting nearby but appeared to have found a friend. A man in a suit was standing next to him with an uncannily similar gait and facial expression to Curtis.
‘No purchases?’ asked Curtis. Ruby shook her head and the man next to him pretended to be shocked.
‘Hi,’ said Ruby, waving to the man.
‘He doesn’t speak. He’s a mime artist,’ explained Curtis, pulling a five-pound note from his pocket and handing it to the street performer who did an elaborate bow.
The Promise of Summer, Part 1 Page 7