Let's Call the Whole Thing Off

by Jill Steeples

  I slumped down in my seat again. Who was I kidding? I might not be able to believe a word Sophie said or even wrote in her diary, but I knew Ben hadn’t lied to me. The only thing he’d done was to try to spare my feelings, but it was evident from the way he’d wrapped me in his embrace and tried to console me after finding me a wailing, gibbering mess that everything I’d read in that diary had been true.

  ‘Toast, madam.’ The waiter was back, fluttering around my table discreetly, removing my bowl of half-eaten assorted cereals and replacing it was a heart-attack on a plate.

  ‘Excuse me, could I ask you a question?’

  ‘Certainly, madam?’ I didn’t really like the way he called me madam as though I was some old maiden aunt when I reckoned he was only a couple of years younger than me, but aside from that he seemed like a nice boy. He shuffled closer and I caught the lightest whiff of a lemony aftershave. He was lean and clean-cut and had an aura about him that suggested he had a whole other life going on outside the confines of the breakfast room at the Grand View. Maybe he was a jobbing actor, an up-an-coming rock star or even a jewellery designer. Certainly in his black sharp trousers and waistcoat, he cut a dashing figure.

  ‘Well, what I wanted to ask is what you would do if you found out that the woman you loved, the woman you were about to marry, had been cheating on you?’

  If he’d been expecting me to ask about some mustard or brown sauce, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked completely unfazed by my question.

  ‘Hmmm, that’s a tricky one,’ he said, leaning in to me, almost imperceptibly.

  ‘Yes, I know, it is, isn’t it?’ I sensed immediately just from that short exchange that we were bonding on this fundamental question of relationships.

  ‘Wouldn’t happen, of course. I’m gay.’

  ‘Oh.’ Shame, I thought, but luckily didn’t allow that little nugget to slip from my lips. ‘Okay, so what if it was your boyfriend, the man you love, what if you found out he’d been cheating on you, what would you do then?’

  He walked around to the other side and rested his arms on the chair opposite, tidying it away beneath the table, before looking me directly in the eye.

  ‘What would be there to think about, love?’ he said, his voice dropping its formal clipped tone and adopting a much more gossipy tone. ‘He’d be out on his ear before he could say “big mistake”. Tell me to mind my own business, love, but are you asking from a personal perspective here.’

  I nodded as I cut into my sausage, dipping it into the egg and watching the yolk spread satisfyingly over the plate. ‘I am meant to be getting married this Saturday, but I found out that my boyfriend’s being playing away with my best friend.’ At least my appetite had made a welcome return.

  ‘Ouch! What an arsehole,’ he whispered, out of earshot of the neighbouring table. ‘Well, I hope you’ve given him his marching orders.’

  ‘No, not yet,’ I said, realising I’d been preparing for it in my head, but I was still uncertain whether it was what I wanted or not. I loved Ed. Or at least I had done. Now I wasn’t sure how I felt. My feelings were candy-coated in anger, fury and complete disbelief. Could all that shared love, hope and expectation be wiped out by what everyone else seemed to think was a silly mistake?

  ‘I’ve run away,’ I told the waiter. ‘I’ve come here to think about what I should do next. What I should do with the rest of my life.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ The waiter turned and looked out at the sweeping view of the sea, which this morning was shrouded in a heavy grey mist. ‘And you came here to do that? If it were me I think I would have headed off somewhere a bit more exotic.’

  I laughed.

  ‘Well, I’m meant to be flying off to the Maldives at the weekend so that should be pretty exotic. Although it looks like I might be missing one vital ingredient for the perfect honeymoon: a groom!’ I felt a pang of sadness despite my falsely cheerful tone. It was one thing mooching around Hollisea alone as there was plenty to do and see, and if the worse came to the worse I could always retire to the depths of my beautiful hotel room and watch TV while drinking champagne and eating biscuits, but what would I do on a romantic hideaway in the middle of the Indian Ocean with only the sun, sea and sand for company. It sounded idyllic but I had a horrible feeling it would only highlight my feelings of emptiness and loneliness.

  ‘Well, if you need a plus one, you only need to ask?’ He gave me a wicked smile.

  ‘Sorry, I’m keeping you from doing your job, aren’t I? Look, thanks for listening.’ I peered forward to look at his name badge. ‘Thanks, Neil. I really appreciate it.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ he said, flapping around behind me and giving me a surreptitious squeeze on the shoulder, ‘it’s all part of the service. But honestly, love, I wouldn’t give that two-timing guy of yours a second thought. I know you’re hurting at the moment, but don’t waste any more time on him. I’ve learnt that from bitter experience, believe me. Once a cheater, always a cheater, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Yes, I guess you’re right.’ If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t want to believe it. I was half hoping it wouldn’t be true, that it was all some ghastly mistake. That I would be the exception amongst the cheated and put-upon of the world. That Ed would turn up on my doorstep, proclaiming his love for me, admitting that he’d made the biggest bloop of his life and begging forgiveness. I’d played out all sorts of heart-wrenching scenarios in my head, all of which ended up with Ed down on his knees pleading with me to give him a second chance. But what would I actually do in those circumstances?

  My stomach plummeted as I looked out over the grumbling sea. I just wanted things to get back to how they were before any of this had ever happened, but I knew that was impossible. Whatever Ed had to say, whatever excuses he came up with, if he even offered any, couldn’t right the wrong he’d made. No, whichever way I looked at it, there was no going back to how we were. Could we salvage anything from our relationship?

  ‘You know what they say, don’t you?’ Neil made himself look busy by sweeping away imaginary crumbs from the table into this hand. ‘If you fall off the horse, you need to get straight back in the saddle.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t ride,’ I said, deliberately misunderstanding him.

  ‘Tch! You know what I mean. No, what you need to do is get straight back out there and climb on that horse again.’

  I raised my eyes at him doubtfully.

  ‘Honestly, the best way to get over any man is to find a new one. I’ve only known you for fifteen minutes, babe, but I’ve already sussed that you’re a beautiful, funny and clever young woman. You could sit around moping for the next three years, pining over what might have been, but honestly it’s not worth it. He’s not worth it. Show him what he’s missing. Get out there and enjoy yourself. Nothing serious, of course. Just have some fun and reclaim your sense of adventure.’

  I gave a small, wry smile. Neil obviously did have another life outside of being a waiter. As a life-coach, I wouldn’t bet. After only a few minutes in his company I already felt much more positive about the whole situation. And he was right, too. I needed to move on and rediscover my sense of adventure. Wherever it might be. From memory, I think I came in one day from work, hung it up on the back of my bedroom door and completely forgot about it.

  Maybe that was why Ed had strayed. Perhaps I’d become middle-aged before my time. I’d been preoccupied with the wedding, admittedly. Even I’d been beginning to get bored with the whole thing and looking forward to that mystical time in the future when it would be ‘over’.

  ‘The thing is you can spend hours wondering what went wrong, was it something you did, something you said, but honestly …’ He paused, looking into my face. ‘Sorry, what’s your name, love?’

  ‘Anna,’ I said, deciding not to go the Greek goddess route this time.

  ‘Honestly, Anna, don’t take on any of the blame. It was his decision to go a-wandering. His responsibility. I don’t know the sort of person you are, but I k
now I could never get back with someone who had treated me quite so badly. If you think you can and you want to give it a second chance, then that’s up to you. And you’re obviously a much bigger person than I could ever hope to be. But do you honestly think you’d ever be able to really trust him again? Whenever he goes out that front door won’t there be a part of you worrying about what he’s getting up to?’

  I shrugged. Neil had put into words what I’d been wondering myself.

  Is everything all right over here, madam?’ Chief honcho restaurant manager had arrived and was hovering uneasily looking between me and Neil disapprovingly.

  ‘Absolutely fine,’ said my new friend, the lovely waiter whose clipped tones were now firmly back in place.

  ‘Madam?’ asked his concerned boss.

  ‘Oh yes, absolutely. I’ve been asking Neil for recommendations of what to do in Hollisea. He’s been very helpful. I’ve probably been keeping him chatting far too long. Sorry about that.’

  ‘No, that’s fine,’ he said, seemingly satisfied with my answer, before wandering off to deal with an issue over the other side of the room.

  ‘Thanks,’ Neil said, relieving me of my empty plate. ‘So what have you got planned for today then?’

  I thought of Dave and the arrangement we’d made for this evening. The thought filled me with a mix of dread and exhilaration.

  ‘Actually, I was going to do some shopping. Take my mind off things. I met this guy in the pub last night and he’s invited me out to dinner tonight.’ I sighed, wondering what on earth I’d been thinking even agreeing to such a thing. ‘Not a date or anything like that,’ I added, more for my benefit than Neil’s, ‘just friends. You know!’ I said, desperate for him to agree with me. ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m not so sure.’

  Neil’s mouth dropped open and he looked at me with a whole deal of respect over his face.

  ‘Woah! And there was me worrying that you’d spend the day crying into your tea. You don’t waste much time, do you? Who is your mystery date then?’

  ‘No, it’s nothing like that. His name’s Dave. He’s here for a few days on business.’ I ignored the pang of apprehension in my stomach at the realisation I didn’t know the first thing about him.

  ‘Well, there you go, what did I tell you? And don’t even think about backing out. You go and have a fabulous time and don’t give a second thought to that ex of yours. I’m on again tomorrow morning so I expect a blow-by-blow account of how it went, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah. Thanks, Neil.’

  Somehow, without even realising it, I’d managed to finish off the whole fry-up, the toast and a Danish pastry and now I felt a whole lot better about the day ahead.

  Chapter Eight

  The thing was even though it wasn’t a proper date, I hadn’t been on any kind of date in years so I had absolutely no idea what to wear or how to behave, come to that. Last night Persephone had been very much in control and she’d known exactly what to do but most ungratefully she’d done a bunk this morning and I was left wondering how I’d ever got myself into this situation in the first place and if it wouldn’t simply be better if I just came up with an excuse and didn’t go after all.

  Perhaps if I rang Dave and explained everything then he would understand and we could laugh about the whole sorry situation and we’d say how much we’d enjoyed meeting each other and we’d wish each other good luck for the future. Which would have been a blinding idea if I’d had Dave’s telephone number, which I didn’t.

  I felt as though I was hurtling towards a destination I wasn’t sure I wanted to be travelling to. Then I remembered I had to report in to my lovely waiter tomorrow and he’d insisted I wasn’t to back out. And I needed to remember his advice about getting out there and enjoying myself. Even if I was hovering on the bad side of suicidal.

  I was only going to be here for a couple of days and how was I ever going to be able to make any sensible decisions about what I was going to do with the rest of my life if I spent the entire time holed up in my hotel room. It was only dinner, for goodness’ sake, not a proposal of marriage.

  Dinner? Now what did that mean. exactly; a greasy burger from the van on the seafront, a bowl of pasta from the Italian on the corner or something altogether more swanky? My running-away wardrobe consisted of a couple of pairs of jeans, some faded T-shirts and my favourite grey baggy hoodie, which might just do for the greasy burger option, but wouldn’t really cut it when it came to the other possibilities.

  No, I’d have to pick up something to wear. Something cheap but vaguely restaurant-ish. If Dave had gone to the trouble of inviting me out to dinner the least I could do was turn up in something semi-respectable.

  I sighed, thinking of my honeymoon wardrobe back at home already neatly packed away in my matching set of brand-new suitcases. Along with the newly purchased bikinis, sarongs, kaftans and flip-flops, there were a couple of simple cotton shift dresses that would have been perfect for tonight. Only I hadn’t planned on going on a date a couple of days before my wedding and so my lovely new clothes were left neglected and abandoned back at the flat and I was left neglected and abandoned in Hollisea. I wondered if I would ever get to wear them now in the capacity for which they were intended: wafting around a sun-kissed beach in a state of post-wedding euphoric bliss. Somehow I doubted it.

  Still, that really was of no concern to me now, I thought, as I wandered out of the hotel and along the seafront, which was very nice if a bit breezy, and as far removed from the Maldives as I imagined it was possible to get. I zipped up my hoodie, feeling the wind biting at my cheeks.

  I thought of Ben, which, disturbingly, I’d been doing with increasing regularity these last few days. If only I’d listened to him and stayed at the cottage then I would never have had to step way out of my comfort zone and deal with scary non-dates with a strange, but compellingly enigmatic man.

  Being with Ben seemed all too appealing now; he was easy, familiar and comfortable to be around, although I’d have probably gone and done something stupid like making another pass at him. Maybe that’s what this was all about. Perhaps I was just craving the affirmation from another man that I was still an attractive woman. Ed clearly hadn’t thought so.

  Last night, unexpectedly, Dave had ignited a spark within me that had made me feel alive and funny and beautiful.

  Like Ben, he’d been so easy to talk to and even easier to kiss, and yet I didn’t really know the first thing about him. I was still puzzling over what he might be importing and exporting and what he did and who he did it with when he wasn’t in Hollisea. But did any of that matter? In a few days’ time I would never have to see Dave again. Perhaps this was Fate playing her hand. Ed had given into his desires and had a fling. Why couldn’t I do the same with Dave? Would that give us a clean slate from which Ed and I could start all over again?

  I sighed, random thoughts assaulting my brain. To be honest, there was a squidgeon of uncertainty in the depths of my stomach about Dave, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He was lovely and charming, obviously, but Ben’s words of caution, not to do anything stupid, were sounding between my ears.

  I’d never met anyone like Dave before. His masculine physicality was a distraction admittedly; just the sheer size of him and the overpowering stench of testosterone made me all a flutter, but it was more than that. He handled himself with a confidence and self-assuredness that intrigued me, that had me all a-wondering. If I didn’t know better then it would be easy to imagine him as some kind of gangster or someone who had some shady connections at the very least. Perhaps he was a drug dealer. My heart plummeted at the thought. He looked just like a drug dealer! Not that I’d met any drug dealers before but if I was casting one for my next film then Dave would be absolutely perfect for the part.

  I walked up the hill, away from the seafront and towards the shops, trying to banish the silly thoughts. I knew I was being ridiculous. The upheaval of the last few days was making me fanciful. I me
an, I didn’t even know what I was doing here mooching around the coast when I should have been at home sorting out the mess that was my life. My mood swung between the deepest despair to unbridled optimism for the future, underlined all the time by a heavy sadness in the pit of my stomach that refused to lift.

  Still, I just needed to get things into perspective. Tonight I was going on a lovely non-date with a charming man; it was hardly an appointment with a mass murderer. And I certainly wouldn’t do anything stupid like going back to Dave’s hotel or getting in his car, so there was nothing to worry about on that front. Absolutely nothing. I was a grown woman, not a naïve teenager. I knew how to handle myself amongst experienced men-about-town, whatever they did for a living. I was just out of practice, that was all.

  I went into the first boutique that I came across. I realised only too late once I was inside the shop that none of the dresses had price tags on, which even to a high-street girl like myself was a bad sign. Still, maybe the dress would do for the honeymoon Maldives as well. Twenty minutes later I came out with two new dresses, a cream clutch bag, a long twirly necklace that reached my belly button and a pair of black strappy high heels. I still had no idea what I might wear tonight but I was feeling a whole lot happier about the prospect.

  ***

  ‘Oh, someone’s been busy!’ Mandy, a tray of tea and toast in one hand, eyed my carrier bags gleefully and ushered me inside the café. ‘I must say you look a bit better than you did yesterday. There’s a seat over there in the corner. Go and sit yourself down and I’ll fix you a cup of coffee and a rocky road. I’ll be over when I’ve got a moment.’

  I nodded and smiled. Was it really only yesterday that I’d come here for the first time? It seemed as if I’d been coming here for a lifetime. The way Mandy greeted me she could have been my oldest friend and even Bob’s unseen but solid presence in the kitchen was warmly reassuring.

  The café was busy, the clientele a mix of holidaymakers, workmen and mums with babies. The scent of coffee and frying bacon mingled in the air, cutting through the quiet hum of conversation. I was happy to sit alone, sipping on my cappuccino and nibbling on what were frankly the most delicious rocky roads I’d ever eaten as I watched all the other customers going about their daily business.