‘Hello, Perce.’
The warm breath in my ear made me jump. I span round. He wasn’t late. He was early. And standing right in front of me. No chance of escape now.
‘Hello,’ I said, trying to retrieve my voice from somewhere below my knees. He was every bit as gorgeous as I remembered, only much broader and much taller. More gorgeous even. I felt my cheeks tinge red. ‘Hello,’ I repeated, for no good reason, other than to fill the awkward silence sizzling between.
‘You look lovely,’ he said, his gaze sweeping the length of my body. ‘Are you okay?’
I nodded in what I hoped was a coolly sophisticated way. In truth, I felt like a love-struck teenager.
‘Great.’ A smile hovered on his lips. ‘How does Italian sound?’
‘Fantastic, my favourite.’ At least it wasn’t the burger van. Although the way I was feeling that would have sounded just as enticing. Any thoughts of making a quick getaway had completely left my mind.
‘Come on then,’ he said, slipping a hand around my waist. ‘I’ve got a car waiting outside.’
It wasn’t his car or at least not one that he was driving, but a rather nice black car with a driver waiting. Abandoning my earlier resolution not to get into a car with Dave, I allowed myself to be swept outside and into the sleek motor feeling like a film star. I laughed inwardly, thinking about all those ridiculous notions I’d entertained about Dave being an underworld boss. Oh dear! How I’d laugh about all of this in a few years’ time. That time when my fiancé dumped me and it sent me more than a little bit crazy!
Dave was just a regular guy and I had absolutely nothing to worry about. This was going to be the most amazing evening ever, I could just tell. Besides, in for a penny in for a pound. Serial killers didn’t normally travel in packs, did they?
‘How did you know about this place?’ I asked, twenty minutes later when we’d been ushered in through the doors of the trattoria and shown to a table at the back of the room. Dave ordered a bottle of Prosecco, which was a bit spooky as that just so happened to be my drink of choice at the moment. It was as if we had a natural affinity on some things.
‘Oh, I came here once before, a few years back. It’s away from the main drag so it doesn’t get as busy as some of those other places. And the food is amazing. So,’ he said, taking a sip from his wine and leaning back in his chair, his gaze appraising me thoughtfully, ‘how has your day been? Did you get any blinding flashes of inspiration?’
His broad frame filled the chair. He was wearing black trousers and a black shirt and on anyone else it might have made them look like one of the waiters, but on Dave it just made him look classy and sophisticated and a tiny bit dangerous. There it was again! However much I tried to get away from it, that tantalising element of darkness wafted over in my direction. I could feel it tingling on my lips and rippling along the length of my spine. Danger with a capital D. I felt a warm swell of desire in the pit of my stomach.
I crossed my legs and tried to ignore the dark thoughts now infiltrating my mind. I’d never met anyone like Dave before; that’s all it was. He was so very different from the normal studenty types I was used to mixing with.
‘Inspiration?’ I said, trying to work out what it was he was asking me, instead of concentrating on what it was his mere presence was doing to me.
His dark eyes widened as he tilted his head to one side.
‘Yes, some new ideas for your jewellery line? That’s what you here for, isn’t it?’
Oh God. Come in, Persephone, please! I’d completely forgotten about the jewellery designing thing.
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ I said, waving my hand in front of me breezily. ‘I’ve had a very productive day, getting ideas.’
‘Oh yes?’
Crikey. From the way he was looking at me he expected me go on, fill in some of the detail. Say something sensible.
‘Yes, jotting down a few ideas, that sort of thing. I was on the beach at five thirty this morning with my bucket collecting shells and driftwood. Just being in the sea air, hearing the sound of the gulls, the ice-cream vans chiming by, it fires my creativity.’
He paused, long enough for me to realise that I hadn’t managed to say anything remotely sensible. I think it was the mention of the ice-cream vans that did it, but he seemed as convinced about my jewellery designing skills as I was.
‘That’s good.’ He reached across and picked up my hand, turning it over in his.
‘You don’t wear any of your own designs then,’ he said, looking at the now-empty spot where my engagement ring had sat quite happily these last couple of years. I’d loved that ring, loved everything it had represented. I’d taken it off as soon as I read that diary, along with my gold heart necklace – another present from Ed – and stuffed them in my knicker drawer. The way I felt at the moment I never wanted to see them again, let alone wear them.
‘Well, my jewellery items are more statement pieces, big occasion pieces.’
What statement I was making now, wearing no jewellery whatsoever, I didn’t know.
‘Ah, right, I see. You’ll have to show me your latest collection some time. I’d love to see it. Or maybe I could look on your website. I’m guessing you must have a website?’
Oh good grief. We hadn’t even got to the first course yet and already I was feeling sick. Two things horrified me about what Dave had just said: the fact that he was talking as if there would be another time, which was both terrifying and thrilling in equal measure, and the fact that he was still banging on about my jewellery business. He seemed to have an unnatural interest in ladies’ jewellery. Perhaps inadvertently I’d discovered his dark secret.
‘It’s under construction at the moment. A few more weeks and it should be up and running. I have my web designer right on it as we speak.’
A few more weeks and Dave would be a distant memory and hopefully he would have long forgotten Persephone and her wretched jewellery business. It was hard to imagine where I’d be then or what I might be doing. The wedding day would have come and gone, but would I actually be married? The honeymoon would be over but would it have been a romantic idyll or a miserable holiday for one? I’d be back at work in a possibly new job and I’d be living somewhere new too, but who knew where? In Ed’s flat or in a rented room in some shared house? It all seemed incredibly depressing and dreary, the rest of my life stretching out in front of me with all the good bits airbrushed out.
‘How was your day?’ I said, remembering that I was sitting in a very lovely restaurant with a very lovely man. If it had been under any other circumstances then all this would have been perfect. Unfortunately, the shadow of Ed and Sophie was doing a very good job of casting a big black cloud over our table.
‘Long, but good. I had a couple of meetings. Sorted out a few things. I was glad I had this evening to look forward to, though; I really didn’t fancy another lonely evening spent in the pub.’
He held my gaze and I felt my stomach tumble.
‘So do you do a lot of your business here in Hollisea?’ I asked, adopting my new and accomplished business persona. For all I knew, this little seaside town could be the epicentre of the importing/exporting world. ‘You mentioned you were here a few years back?’
‘No, we were just passing through then. My wife and I were attending a wedding in one of the neighbouring villages so we thought we’d make a long weekend of it.’
‘Your wife?’ I didn’t mean to shout, but judging by the curious glances from the other diners, there could be no disputing our topic of conversation. Heat flared up my face. How could I feel betrayed by someone I didn’t even know? This was ridiculous. I was obviously projecting my feelings of betrayal over Ed onto the poor unsuspecting man in front of me. It wasn’t his fault he had a wife. Although it was hugely disappointing.
I was getting used to curved balls being thrown in my direction, but I couldn’t have seen this coming. A wife? He didn’t look like the husband type. And I certainly hadn’t imagined that ki
ss last night. It was all too vivid in my mind. And drug dealers didn’t bother with the mundanities of life, did they? Like wives. My powers of reasoning had clearly deserted me. If I’d even had any in the first place. I needed an explanation. I think my face must have been demanding the same.
‘Well, my ex-wife now.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Well, any day now, I think.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, I think the decree absolute came through today, actually. Or it might be tomorrow.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I said, not really knowing what else to say, but realising the relief I felt was overwhelming, inappropriate and totally out of proportion in the circumstances.
He shrugged, a small smile on his lips.
‘It’s okay. No one died. It’s just a divorce. It happens all the time. Sad, but that’s life, eh?’
Not again. I’d be adopting that song as my anthem soon. Dave’s expression didn’t give much away. I didn’t know if he was nursing a broken heart over the divorce or whether he was relieved to be out of it. If it was the former then maybe we could set up the Hollisea branch of the lonely and broken-hearted club, although Dave didn’t really strike me as the type to go in for a lot of navel gazing.
This new snippet of information made me look at him in a completely different light. I don’t know what I expected, but I hadn’t really given much thought to his personal life. I’d been too busy wondering about his dodgy business dealings, which I didn’t now suppose were dodgy in the remotest. It was all much more mundane than I could have imagined. Marriage. Kids?
‘Do you have any children?’ I flapped my napkin over my lap, trying to keep my tone light as if I was only half interested.
‘No. Which is good. In these circumstances. Makes it easier to make a clean break, I guess.’
‘Yes, yes, absolutely.’ A second bout of relief engulfed me. I had no words to express my sympathy for the break-up of his marriage. My engagement had gone up in a puff of smoke and that was bad enough. I almost felt like confiding in him so we could bond on our respective single status, but that would be impossible now. It would mean explaining that my name wasn’t really Persephone and I wasn’t really a jewellery designer. My head couldn’t deal with those kinds of conversations. Instead, I sighed and smiled. We seemed to have talked ourselves into an awkward corner so I was relieved when the waiter arrived with the menus to detract our attention.
‘So, have you got any holidays planned this year? Apart from Hollisea, of course!’ Now I sounded like his hairdresser. I regretted the question before the words had even left my lips and judging by the quiver of Dave’s eyebrow he couldn’t quite believe I’d asked either. Although I think I’d probably amused him because there was a definite glint in his eye.
‘No, nothing planned. What about you?’
And now it would look as though I only asked him because I wanted to brag about my own exotic holiday, which hadn’t been the intention at all. What use was an exotic holiday if you had no one to go with? Best get it right out there, I decided.
‘Yes, I’m off to the Maldives, actually, on Saturday.’
‘Really? How lovely! One week Hollisea, the next the Maldives. The life of a jewellery designer is clearly a very exciting one.’
‘Well, it’s a trip of a lifetime really. Normally I would make do with a wet week in Wales, so yes, it is quite exciting.’
Who was I kidding? I didn’t feel an inch of excitement about going to the Maldives or anything else, come to that. All I felt was dread and terror and anxiety. But the holiday was all organised and paid for so I was damned if I wasn’t going to make the most of it. If I didn’t go then Sophie and Ed just might and there was no way I’d let that happen. If they wanted to betray me by bonking away to their hearts’ content then they weren’t going to do it at my expense in a wonderfully romantic location. Heaven forbid they might even fall in love! I sighed. Maybe I was even too late for that. Maybe they were already; truly, madly, deeply in love. I looked across at Dave, feeling sorry for him. I was the worst possible company tonight.
‘It’s a beautiful place. You’ll have a fantastic time.’
‘Oh, have you been then?’
‘A couple of times.’ He nodded, like I might if someone asked me if I’d been to Pizza Hut before. Of course he’d been to the Maldives. Dave was a sophisticate masquerading as a rough-and-ready drug dealer. With an ex-wife. I was getting to like him more and more by the minute. ‘Who are you going with then?’
‘Ah, well.’ I laughed unnaturally. ‘It’s all been a bit unfortunate really. I was due to go with a good friend of mine, but I’m not sure he’ll be able to make it now. Family problems. I might have to go on my own.’
Dave actually narrowed his eyes, his wide mouth twitching very slightly at the corner.
‘That’s a shame. Couldn’t you cancel and claim on your insurance? Go some other time. It’s a beautiful place, but it’s not the sort of place you want to be going on your own. You really need to share the experience with someone else.’
I’m sure Dave didn’t intend to make me feel bad.
‘No, we’d lose our money if we cancelled. I asked a couple of my other close friends, but what with it being only a couple of days’ notice no one could make it.’
It wasn’t strictly true, but with Dave, the lines between the truth and fantasy were already blurred. I’d entertained some pretty wonderful ideas about taking Neil the waiter with me or Mandy the café owner, but in reality I knew if it wasn’t Ed sitting alongside me on that plane, I’d be making that long trip to my perfectly planned dream holiday on my own.
‘Besides,’ I said breezily, trying to drag myself out of my slough of despond, ‘I’m very independent and self-sufficient. It would have been nice to take someone with me, but I’m perfectly capable of having a good time on my own.’
That distinctive flirtatious smile hovered on his lips again.
‘I’m sure you are. And I’m sure you’ll have a great time with that attitude. I really hope the Maldives is everything you want it to be.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, wishing I shared his confidence. It was a fact of life that I was going to be miserable over the coming weeks and surely I’d be less miserable in a sun-soaked paradise than I would be at home.
‘It’s funny, though, how you should come to Hollisea this week for inspiration when you’re going to one of the most beautiful places on earth next week. What does Hollisea offer, I wonder, that the Maldives doesn’t?’
I felt a pang of irritation, tempered by weariness. Dave was full of smart questions. We could all be smart when we wanted to be. I could ask him some very awkward questions about his marriage and why it went wrong, but I’d elected not to. Why was he giving me the third degree about my research activities? I didn’t suppose Stella McCartney or Victoria Beckham were subject to such scrutiny when they were putting together their new collections. No, they were just left to their own devices to come up with something suitably wonderful and that’s how it was for Persephone.
‘Well, I like to get the full seaside experience. Hollisea is a bit more modern, cutting-edge and the Maldives is at the other end of the scale, offering sophistication and luxury. I like to have that juxtaposition of styles in my jewellery range.’
I don’t know why but Dave seemed to find everything I said highly amusing.
‘That’s a good thing to have, I reckon. The whole juxtaposition thing.’ The waiter arrived to top up our glasses and I was grateful for the chance to sit back for a moment and avoid Dave’s cross-examination. When the waiter left, Dave raised his glass. ‘Well, here’s to you and to your continued success in the business and to a very happy holiday in the Maldives.’
‘Thank you!’ I raised my glass in return.
Dave leant forward, his forearm resting on the table, his glass meeting mine.
‘You know, if you do change your mind and decide you want someone to go with you after all, then I’d be very happy to help you out.’ His
twinkling eyes and wide grin told me he was teasing, but even so the thought sent a squirm of delight around my stomach. ‘It would be no problem whatsoever.’
He held my gaze and suddenly the room became very claustrophobic.
‘Really?’ I took another sip of wine, feeling the bubbles reaching the already fizzing contents of my stomach. ‘Well, thank you very much for your kind offer, Dave. I’ll bear that in mind.’
Chapter Ten
Despite my protestations, Dave insisted on settling the bill, which, to be honest, was a bit of a revelation. Ed and I always went Dutch, it had never been any different ever since we were hard-up students at uni, when we used to count out our coins on the kitchen worktop to see if we had enough money to run to a bottle of wine and a takeaway, which somehow we always did. When we both started working there seemed no reason to change the arrangement, even though Ed was earning almost twice as much as me, although we stopped having to raid our coins and instead raided our respective bank accounts instead.
It wasn’t that Ed was tight, just that he was cautious. He was in banking, after all. It was hardly his fault. It was inbuilt into his DNA. Immediately after uni, he’d put down a deposit on a small flat in the City, with the help of some money from his parents, and so had a hefty mortgage payment to find each month. So it was only natural that we would share the costs when we went out together. It was part of his master plan. To set himself up career-wise and financially so that he’d be able to fund the lifestyle he was aspiring to, the lifestyle we were both aspiring to.
Because I was, obviously, included in the master plan. Once we were married I’d move into his flat and then when the time was right we’d buy a bigger place together. He was old-fashioned like that, waiting until we were married before living together.
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