Good at Games

by Jill Mansell

  “I’ll have to get it fixed.” Shaking his head, Leo rubbed his dusty hands on the sides of his jeans.

  Wishing she could do the same—but suspecting Leo might regard it as an infringement of his personal liberty—Suzy said, “It’s only an empty cellar. Will you ever use it?”

  “Gabriella has plans to turn it into a gym.”

  A gym. Of course. Suzy, who couldn’t imagine anything more horrible than a gym in your own home, said, “What a fantastic idea. Now, these chocolate éclairs you were talking about earlier, would they be filled with fresh cream or that weird squirty stuff out of a can?”

  Paying no attention whatsoever, Leo murmured, “Oh God, your foot.”

  Gazing down, Suzy saw that a larger than average spider had clambered up her shoe and was now precariously balanced on the toe.

  Leo, looking a bit pale, was edging away. “He must have climbed out through the trap door…”

  “The cellar’s always been full of spiders.” Bending, Suzy gently scooped the runaway into her hand and set it down on the top of the stone steps leading back into the cellar. “There you go, sweetheart, you’d only get lost up here.” Glancing briefly across at Leo, she added, “Or stepped on.”

  In the kitchen, Leo made a pot of coffee and Suzy demolished a fresh-cream éclair. Just the one, because she didn’t want him to think she was a pig. Then, remembering that it didn’t matter what Leo thought, because in just a few weeks he’d be marrying someone else anyway, she thought, What the hell, and ate another one.

  “Not long to go now, before the wedding.” She felt obliged to make a feeble stab at conversation as Leo handed over her cup. Reaching across the table had caused his pale gray cashmere sweater to ride up, affording her a glimpse of dazzlingly taut, tanned flesh above the belt of his jeans.

  I want to touch it. I want to know what it feels like, thought Suzy, going hot all over with lust and shame.

  “You’re coming?” said Leo.

  Gosh, jolly nearly.

  Oh no no no.

  He’s getting married, remember.

  To Gabriella.

  Mentally giving herself a big pinch in an attempt to restore order, Suzy said sunnily, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Any excuse for a party. And please,” she told Leo, “feel free to invite as many gorgeous eligible males as you like. What with me being such a desperate old spinster these days, I need all the help I can get.”

  It was meant to be humorous. She’d said it to lighten the mood, that was all. He was supposed to laugh and make some jokey derogatory remark in return.

  Leo didn’t laugh.

  He said seriously, “I spoke to Lucille last night. We had a long chat.”

  Oh God. All muscular control promptly flew out of the window. Suzy almost dropped her coffee cup. It was a miracle she hadn’t wet her pants.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” said Leo.

  Oh God oh God oh God.

  “Whaa…” Suzy discovered that her lips were moving in all the wrong directions. “Wha…wha…whaaa?”

  “Why did you never tell me the truth?” Leo persisted.

  This was desperate. This was truly diabolical. Maybe it wouldn’t be so awful if only he was saying it in a lovey-dovey, Prince Charming kind of way, but he wasn’t.

  He was looking at her like a scientist observing a wired-up monkey in a lab.

  “Oh, come on, I just couldn’t.” Suzy clenched and unclenched her hands, which had gone all damp and tingly with embarrassment. Whatever else happened, she was definitely going to have to kill Lucille.

  “I suppose not. But I wish you had. It would have made a real difference,” Leo said quietly.

  Duh? It would?

  “I didn’t respect you,” he went on, as Suzy’s head shot up. “I knew you weren’t really in love with him, and that’s what I couldn’t stand. I thought you were just in it for the publicity, the money, whatever…”

  Double duh?

  “Hang on, just hang on a second,” Suzy blurted out. “What exactly did Lucille tell you last night?”

  Leo gave her an odd look. “Everything. About the engagement being a sham. About Harry blackmailing you into going along with it, because it was his big chance to make a sackload of cash. I mean, I always knew Harry envied me, but I never realized he had such a thing about being second best.”

  Suzy waited, without moving a muscle, for Leo to take a breath before adding, “Oh yes, and of course Lucille told me the great story about you being in love with me. Ha! Gabriella and I had a real laugh when we heard that one.”

  It didn’t happen.

  Leo had finished speaking.

  Which was great news for Lucille because it meant she didn’t have to die a grisly, Hannibal Lecter–type death after all.

  And even better news for Suzy herself.

  “I felt sorry for him,” she told Leo. Miraculously, her powers of speech had returned. “When I realized how much it meant to Harry, I didn’t have the heart to say no. And it wasn’t as if we were hurting anyone.”

  “No.” Leo looked thoughtful for a second. “No, I suppose you weren’t.”

  “I have to go.” As the grandfather clock began to chime out in the hall, Suzy rose to her feet.

  “Busy?” Leo smiled slightly.

  “Busy. I’m showing a couple a house on Bell Barn Road.” Suzy forced herself to concentrate as he helped her into her coat. “Then at three o’clock, I’ve got an appraisal in Durdham Park. After that, I have to taxi some woman and her four children around half a dozen different properties… Oh, the fun never stops.”

  Her coat was on. Somehow they’d reached the door. Proximity to Leo—and the touch of his hands on her neck as he’d straightened her upturned collar—had caused Suzy’s heart to break once more into an undignified gallop.

  Terrified in case he could hear it, she made a grab for the door handle. In that same split second, so did Leo.

  “Sorry, sorry… Um, I’ve just realized I’m going to be late.” Flustered, Suzy ricocheted off the door frame, cracking her shoulder painfully—and audibly—against the wood. “Oooch, clumsy me, better get a move on… Don’t forget: kick, kick, grab, yank, pull.”

  “Absolutely.” Leo nodded, then held out his arm, blocking her exit. “Suzy, I need to—”

  “Must dash now.” Ducking under his arm faster than a Harlem Globetrotter, Suzy trilled, “Give my love to Gabriella, won’t you? And I’ll see you both at the wedding!”

  Except she wouldn’t, of course, because she now knew there was no way she could put herself through such an ordeal.

  Standing there watching Leo marry Gabriella, Suzy realized sadly, would simply hurt too much.

  * * *

  Oh God, what am I doing here? I must be mad. What am I doing here?

  In the pew, next to Suzy, Lucille whispered, “Doesn’t she look amazing?”

  “Who?”

  “Gabriella, you twit!”

  “Oh. Yes. Amazing.”

  “Beautiful dress.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Not you. I’m talking about Gabriella’s dress. Honestly, will you listen to her?” Lucille shook her head at Jaz. “She’s miles away.”

  Suzy, sandwiched between the two of them three pews from the front, thought, No, I’m not. I’m right here. But I certainly wish I were miles away. Whatever possessed me to change my mind and come to the wedding after all?

  “Stop sniffing,” hissed Jaz. “You sound like a drug addict.”

  “I’m sniffing because I don’t want to cry.”

  And I am a drug addict, Suzy realized with a surge of hopeless sentiment. Leo’s my drug, and I don’t know how I’m going to live without him.

  “She’s still doing it,” Jaz whispered in disbelief. He gave Lucille a nudge. “Have you got a spare tissue?”
>
  Oh, Leo, I should have told you how I felt. Why didn’t I ever tell you? Her eyes swimming with tears, Suzy focused as hard as she could on the back of Leo’s dark head, silently willing the words to somehow permeate his brain.

  But it wasn’t working. He wasn’t hearing them.

  Basically, because they were silent words…

  “Does anybody here present know of any reason why this man and this woman should not be joined together in holy matrimony?”

  The vicar asked the question in an almost jaunty fashion. Suzy saw Gabriella, her head in profile, smile briefly up at Leo. It was an intimate, reassuring smile, the kind that signified, “Don’t worry, just a couple more minutes and we’ll be man and wife.” Actually, it was quite a smug smile.

  “I do!” Suzy called out, standing up and waving her program like an eager bidder at Sotheby’s. Still, she had to make sure she caught the vicar’s eye—imagine the embarrassment if he didn’t spot her and she had to sit back down again.

  But it was OK. He’d definitely noticed. As had the rest of the congregation—a chorus of gasps and oohs worthy of a Victorian music hall was currently echoing around the church.

  “Suzy, shut up and sit down,” Jaz groaned.

  “Sorry, can’t do that. You see”—Suzy raised her voice to address her audience, who were by this time agog—“I love that man up there, and I need him to know that before he makes his vows to someone else. Leo, are you listening to me?” He hadn’t turned around, but she guessed he probably was. “I love you. Really. More than Gabriella does, I bet. So, look, I’m sorry to muck up the service, and I’m really sorry if this is spoiling your day”—she looked at Gabriella as she spoke—“but I’d much prefer it if Leo married me.”

  At last, Leo turned to face her. Love and hope surged in Suzy’s heart.

  “Suzy, stop this. You’re making a complete fool of yourself.” His dark eyes were filled with sorrow rather than anger. “I mean, let’s be honest. Why on earth would someone like me be interested in someone like you?”

  “There,” hissed Jaz. “Satisfied? Now would you like to sit down?”

  “No,” said Suzy, shaking all over.

  “Suzy.” It was Lucille’s voice this time; she was tugging at her sleeve. “Suzy, stop it. Come on now, it’s OK. Everything’s fine.”

  “Fine? Are you mad?” cried Suzy. “How can everything possibly be fine?”

  She opened her eyes and gazed, terrified, up at Lucille.

  In her nightie.

  Not a church, not a vicar, not an irate bridegroom in sight.

  Oh, thank you. Thank you, God. Thank you sooo much.

  “Blimey,” said Lucille, “you were having a bad dream. What was all that about?”

  “I…I don’t know.” Prevaricating, Suzy blinked and rubbed her forehead. “Was I shouting? What did I say?”

  “You just yelled out, ‘No, no,’ and waved your arm around in the air a bit.”

  “Oh, that’s it, I remember now. I dreamed I was a member of Parliament in the House of Commons, heckling the prime minister.”

  Lucille grinned. “You also mumbled something like ‘I love that man up there.’”

  “I was a very…um…religious MP,” said Suzy. “Talking about God.”

  “That’s all right then.” Lucille departed with a cheerful wink. “Just so long as you weren’t talking about Leo.”

  Chapter 57

  The dream stayed with Suzy, lingering in her mind like an embarrassing faux pas. When, on her way to a viewing three days later, she spotted Gabriella on the pavement waiting to cross Regent Street, she would normally have pulled up and called out a greeting, just to be polite.

  But what if Gabriella said, “Oh, by the way, thanks very much for ruining our wedding ceremony.” Unnerved by the thought—God, the dream still seemed so real—Suzy pretended not to notice Gabriella, turning an abrupt and unnecessary right onto Royal York Crescent instead. She promptly found herself stuck behind a garbage truck set to crawl the length of the road, holding her up for the next twenty minutes.

  If not thirty, once the driver of the garbage truck spotted her. Suzy knew from experience he was unlikely to edge out of the way for a bimbo in a Rolls.

  Stretching her arms and letting the engine idle in neutral, Suzy watched Gabriella, in her rearview mirror, lug two heavy paper shopping bags across the road before disappearing from view. Two minutes later she reappeared minus the bags, made her way back across the road, and vanished once more.

  It took Suzy a good few seconds of mulling over this sequence of events before it dawned on her that Gabriella had been depositing something at the Oxfam Shop.

  The garbagemen, meanwhile, were grinning broadly and going about their trash-emptying business in ultraslow motion. They could keep her waiting there all day if they wanted.

  Sighing—because they would only regard this as another form of victory—Suzy shifted gears and reversed the car, highly illegally, up the hill and onto Regent Street.

  * * *

  Two hours later, heading back along Regent Street in the direction of the office, Suzy glanced instinctively across at the Oxfam Shop.

  The next moment, as recognition dawned, her world slipped into slow motion.

  “Ohhh myyy Goood…”

  Somehow, Suzy managed to park the car, climb out, and make her way jerkily back down to the shop.

  There it was, occupying center stage in the window: a wedding dress with a deep-red velvet boned bodice and an ivory satin skirt, teamed with a dark green velvet cloak lined with crimson satin. Dark green beading on the bodice, and deep-red beading on the cloak.

  Never Worn, declared the price ticket clipped to the slender waist of the dress. £75.

  Without even stopping to wonder why she was doing it, Suzy pushed open the door—jangle jangle—and went inside.

  There was no doubt about it. This had to be Gabriella’s dress.

  But what was it doing here? Had she changed her mind at the last minute and decided, after all, to go for virginal white?

  Or had she—Suzy struggled to keep her clamoring thoughts under some kind of control—simply changed her mind?

  After ten minutes of standing there in the window like an idiot, fingering the top-quality beading and stroking the soft velvet, Suzy realized she’d been approached by one of the salespeople in the shop.

  “Lovely, isn’t it?” The woman smiled, her tone friendly.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Now I’m not being rude, dear, but I don’t think it would fit you.”

  “No.”

  “See that tiny waist? Gosh, there aren’t many girls who could squeeze themselves into something so small.”

  I can think of one, thought Suzy.

  Aloud she said, “The girl who brought it into the shop… Um, did she happen to mention why she was, um…you know?”

  “Donating the dress to us? No, dear, she didn’t say, and I didn’t like to ask—although, my goodness, you aren’t going to believe it, but this is the very same young lady coming toward us now.”

  Suzy, trapped in the middle of the window display, could only turn and stare as Gabriella crossed the road and headed steadily toward them.

  The door swung open and shut, the bell above it jangling like Suzy’s nerves.

  “Hello, Suzy,” said Gabriella. “Spotted the dress, then? Nice of them to give it pride of place.”

  “Oh, you know each other,” Mrs. Oxfam exclaimed in delight, slipping into garden-party mode. “How marvelous, no need for formal introductions then! This young lady was just admiring your lovely dress, although I’m afraid I did have to point out to her that it might be a trifle…um…”

  “Small.” Suzy nodded. “Yes, I think we’ve all figured that one out. Actually, I wasn’t interested in it for myself.” Turning, forcing herself t
o look at Gabriella, she said, “What happened? Did you find another dress?”

  Mrs. Oxfam was standing between them, still doing her hostess bit, nodding and smiling and showing tremendous interest in the conversation. Any minute now, Suzy thought, she’d start handing around canapés and asking if they’d prefer cream sherry or a nice cup of tea.

  Evidently reading Suzy’s mind, Gabriella said in neutral tones, “Why don’t we go somewhere more… How about the café in the covered arcade? Unless, of course, you’re horribly busy.”

  Suzy was horribly busy, but wild horses couldn’t have dragged her away now.

  “Oh!” Gabriella went on, belatedly remembering the shopping bag in her hand. Passing it over to Mrs. Oxfam she said, “I forgot to bring these earlier. Shoes, to go with the dress. May as well have the matching set.”

  * * *

  Gabriella insisted on buying the cappuccinos. When she joined Suzy at their corner table in the steamy, aromatic smelling little café overlooking Boyce’s Avenue, she said, “I didn’t get a look at the price tag in the window. How much are they selling my dress for?”

  Suzy piled brown sugar recklessly into her cup. “Seventy-five.”

  “Gosh, bargain.” Drily, Gabriella added, “Seeing as it cost three thousand.”

  “You could have taken it to one of those designer secondhand shops.”

  “Can’t be bothered. Anyway, it was Leo’s money, not mine. The wedding’s off, needless to say. I’m sure you’ve already worked that one out.”

  Gabriella had paid for the coffee, which surely meant that she didn’t hold Suzy responsible. This was a comfort, but Suzy still found herself feeling guilty. Dry-mouthed, she said, “Totally off?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “You mean…you…?”

  “No, it was all Leo’s decision. Nothing to do with me. Except, of course, it was to do with me,” Gabriella conceded with a tiny shrug. “Because basically, ultimately, he decided I wasn’t what he wanted.”

  Suzy felt like a cartoon character whose jaw had dropped in shock onto the table. Surreptitiously, she put a hand up to her mouth to make sure it wasn’t gaping open.