‘Are you nearly ready?’ Sarah is in the bedroom doorway, studying her long black fingernails which I’d say are dangerously long if we’re talking about sticking pound coins anywhere. So I think I’m safe there.
The doorbell goes again. ‘Is this suitable?’ Dress number four is definitely sexier than number three. It definitely doesn’t say invisible woman who doesn’t mind being two-timed. Maybe it is a bit too bright and stand-out-ish though?
Sarah nods. ‘Yeah, you’ll do.’ She doesn’t sound too sure, seeing as she picked the place. She also seems uncharacteristically twitchy. ‘Ready?’
‘Do?’ I look at her more closely. ‘Do’ is not good. It is the type of thing people say when they haven’t even looked at you. It is the type of thing elderly aunts say before they wipe an imaginary smudge off your cheek with their spat-on hanky. It is not the type of the thing you say about a woman wearing a dress like this. Well, at least I hope not. Sarah has got very high heels, leggings and a sleeveless top on. ‘I’m not over-dressed?’ Our taste in clothes is very different, and she moves from goth to ditsy to vintage effortlessly. If she was taller she’d probably make the perfect model. A constantly changing canvas. I won’t say ‘blank canvas’ as Sarah is anything but blank.
‘Oh no, no.’
‘Too tarty?’ I’ve got a bit of a cleavage thing going on, and this dress is quite short, and my mum always said you do legs or boobs, not both. But times have changed.
‘You can always wear a jacket.’ She’s not even looking at me, she’s looking at her watch.
‘Sarah!’ They’re not exactly falling out, just a little bit uncovered. Shit. ‘I need to get changed, I haven’t got a jacket this colour.’
‘Cardi?’
This is very un-Sarah like. Sarah is not a cardigan type of person. Sarah isn’t the type of person who ever considers that there can be too much cleavage. Maybe she thinks mine have gone droopy now I’m thirty, and shouldn’t be on show? Or maybe she’s arranged something very special for my birthday, looking at the time is also very un-Sarah like.
Oh no, I feel sick. ‘You’ve not arranged a surprise party?’ She knows I don’t like being the centre of attention, and I particularly do not want to draw attention to myself on my big birthday.
‘What?’ She looks blank. ‘Oh, no, no, don’t be daft. Are you ready then?’
The doorbell goes again, which is a bit annoying, I could do without the pressure. ‘Who the hell is that? Shall I ignore it?’
‘Answer it, it’s your birthday, it might be flowers.’
‘At this time in the evening? Oh yeah, sure.’ At any time was what I mean, but it sounds a bit defeatist on my birthday. ‘My mum, more likely.’
‘Didn’t you tell her we were going out?’
‘I did. She thinks you lead me astray, she’s probably brought condoms round.’
‘Condoms?’
‘She still treats me like I’m seventeen sometimes. I think that’s down to her spell working for the family planning clinic, she used to throw condoms at all the kids like they were sweeties, big bags of them.’ I hold my hands out to demonstrate. ‘Massive bags.’ She probably took a stash when she left, just in case. ‘If you ever need some, just let me know. I have to hide them, God knows how many times a week she thinks I have sex.’
‘My aunt doesn’t think I ever have sex.’ Sarah grins, but seems back to her old self, so I can relax. ‘I’ll always be her sweet, innocent little darling.’
‘I can’t imagine you ever being sweet and innocent. Oh shit, whoever is at the door is persistent. Are you sure this dress works?’
‘Positive. Now answer the bloody door and then we can start celebrating.’
It is not my mother at the door. It is a walking bunch of flowers. But there is no florists van, and the man holding the bouquet over his face doesn’t look much like a delivery man. His clothes are all wrong.
He moves the flowers.
‘You’re in Greece.’ Since I got back from Scotland I have spent most of my time looking at Greek holiday catalogues and wondering if it is me that’s got this wrong. The new improved, go-getting me should surely have grabbed her chance and jetted off for a bit of on-location fan-girling – not gone to work and written out a list of what she was going to do in the next five years. Go-getters don’t plan, they do.
They make the most of it when a man says he wants to be the one who makes them smile.
I smile.
‘No, I’m not.’ He grins back. ‘I was in Greece, then I came back.’
‘You came back for my birthday?’
‘I came back for good. I realised I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I couldn’t miss your birthday, so I told Mark to stick his contract.’
‘You did?’
‘It was never going to work, I’ve hated his guts ever since I found out about him and Laura. I don’t know why I didn’t sack him straightaway. I guess the final straw was finding out that he’s now representing her as well.’
‘Don’t you need an agent though?’
‘I’ve found a new one, and I’ve got a screen test for a new job in Cornwall in three weeks which my agent is really positive about. He says they’re keen, they asked for me. I thought that gave me enough time to persuade you to come. And to wish you happy birthday.’ He’s so close I can smell him, and the flowers. If he kisses me now we will have crushed roses, but I don’t care.
‘You didn’t call.’
‘Reception was crap on the island, and I didn’t want to talk to you on the phone. I thought you’d understand me being quiet for a couple of days, I literally booked a flight back the day after we arrived. I told myself that the next time I spoke to you I wanted to be able to see you. I needed to look you in the eye and be able to say sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘For not telling you about Annabelle, for just waltzing off to Greece with my ex and her fiancé.’
‘It was work, you had to, I get that.’
‘I was walking on to that plane and asking myself how I’d have felt if you’d walked away from me with Liam.’
‘I wouldn’t have gone…’ I’m trying to keep a straight face, but it’s tricky. ‘…if Stella had been there.’
‘Holy crap, that is the dog’s bollocks.’ Which is a bit OTT even for Sarah, who interrupts what was building up to a proper romantic moment. ‘Coo-ool.’ She gives me a none-too-subtle nudge, and when I look she is goggle-eyed not at Jake, but at the car which I have failed to notice. Despite it being parked at the bottom of my drive. Being shiny red. Being a Ferrari.
I was busy thinking about Cornwall, and kisses.
‘Can I come in?’
‘Well yes, but we’re off out.’ I don’t want to be rude, but Sarah has arranged this and I’m not about to dump her just because a man turns up with flowers. Not even a man with a Ferrari.
Sarah giggles. ‘We’re not off out, you are. This is the surprise.’ She does a ta-dah and flings her hands open in Jake’s directions.
‘Jake’s the surprise? You knew he was coming?’
‘Yep. Jake told Amy, who told Tim, who rang your mum, who came to see me. And…’ She dashes down the hall and wrenches open the door to the under-stairs cupboard. ‘I packed this.’
It’s my case.
‘Why do I need that?’
‘Because I’m taking you away.’ Jake grins, and looks uncharacteristically awkward. ‘If you’ll come?’
‘Of course she will, of course she will.’ Sarah grabs the flowers off him. ‘Does she look okay? She can change.’ She’s like a ping-pong ball rocketing between Jake and me. ‘I wasn’t sure what was suitable!’
‘She looks fantastic.’ He’s not taken his eyes off me, which is making me all squishy inside. And he’s not even looking at my cleavage. I think about pointing it out.
‘You don’t think the dress is too booby?’ Sarah solves the issue. ‘Too much? Not enough? We did wonder. And I wasn’t sure exactly what you had in m
ind.’
‘Not at all. Perfect for what I’ve got in mind.’
I’m not sure I like being talked about when I’m present. ‘But I’ve got work tomorrow.’ Which is a shame, if he’s got something really dirty in mind, and after all it is my birthday, I should be able to enjoy myself before I have to seriously consider full-blown adulting.
‘I fixed that, you’ve got a day off.’ Sarah is bouncing about like Tigger. ‘Isn’t it brill?’ She grabs me so that we can jog about together, and a few flowers come to grief. ‘I’ll put these in a vase, shall I?’
She’s right though. It is brill. Totally brill.
But then I remember. ‘You sent me a text saying that we should cool it.’
His smile falters, then he frowns. ‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Yes, you did.’
‘Look, I promise you I didn’t.’ We compare phones, this is important. Important enough to halt massive birthday surprises for. I can’t go away with Jake and my suitcase if he is the type of man who wants to cool things when we’ve been apart for a few days.
I have received the text, but according to Jake’s phone, he has not sent it.
‘You deleted it!’
‘Or somebody sent it, then deleted it.’ He pauses, then frowns. ‘I bet this was Mark and Laura, they were fuming when I said I was coming home and messing up the film schedule. And Laura knew how I felt, she knew I was coming back for you. I reckon this was her way of trying to give them time to change my mind.’
I must admit, this all sounds a bit dubious, but Jake is tapping away at his phone angrily and we are all hovering in the hallway instead of having a wonderful birthday celebration.
His phone pings. Several times. There are several messages. ‘Here, look.’ I look. ‘It was Mark, I should have guessed. Laura doesn’t say cool, but Mark does. He’s all about cooling off periods.’
‘Oh, heavens above, look at that car, isn’t it a lovely shade of red?’ Mother has arrived, barged in the front door, kissed my cheek and thrust a present at me, all the while never taking her eyes off the car. ‘You always wanted a red car, didn’t you, dear?’
‘I always wanted a Ferrari, Mum. Not just a red car.’ I look at Jake, he is looking back, his phone still in his hand.
‘I’m telling you the truth, Sam. Honest. Can you trust me on this one?’
‘Oh dear, oh what a shame.’ Mum is totally unaware of the dramatic situation she is slap bang in the middle of. ‘Never mind dear, at least it’s a nice shade of red.’ She pats Jake’s hand. ‘At least you tried your best.’ He isn’t really listening. He’s waiting to hear my answer.
I take a deep breath. ‘I can trust you.’ I don’t mean it to come out as a little conspiratorial whisper, but that is how it sounds.
It is so small and conspiratorial though that it has bypassed both my parents.
‘It is a Ferrari, Ruth.’ Dad kisses me on the cheek. ‘Happy birthday, love.’ He too, is staring at the car. ‘Mind if I…?’
‘Be my guest,’ Jake says and Dad wanders back outside to study the car more carefully. I do hope he doesn’t get in, I don’t want a stowaway. Not even Dad, who I truly love and isn’t any trouble at all, but today is about me, and Jake, and my Ferrari.
‘Oh well, if it is a Ferrari what are you complaining about Samantha?’
‘I wasn’t complaining, Mum.’
‘I do hope you’re not going to turn into a misery guts as you get older. I’m sure you won’t let her, will you?’ She grabs Jake’s arm and practically simpers, it’s obscene.
‘Sam isn’t the miserable type.’ He doesn’t object to all this manhandling by my parents, he just nods and smiles like a well-behaved boyfriend. Which he isn’t. I don’t think.
‘True, true, she has always been so fun-loving until she moved in with that Liam. Did you know he’s got two baby girls? Juliet said he’s applied for extra hours at the bank, not that I blame him with that woman. We’re not keeping you, are we?’ She pauses for breath.
‘Yes, Mum, you are.’
‘I’ll tell Juliet the September wedding is still on, shall I? Come along David, come away from that car, you’re holding them up. We don’t want them missing their—’ She puts her hand over her mouth and shrieks. ‘Goodness me, I nearly gave the game away. Well, happy birthday darling, we can all go out when you get back, can’t we? Supper?’
I want to say no, but Jake speaks up before I get a chance. ‘Hopefully Mrs Jenkins, though it’s fingers crossed for the starring role, so it really does depend on the filming schedule. I’ll get you tickets to the premiere, shall I?’
‘Oh my goodness yes, wouldn’t that be lovely? Is there a red carpet, will I need a new frock. David, David, did you hear? We’re going to be mixing with royalty.’
I raise an eyebrow in Jake’s direction and he just grins. ‘Shall we go?’
I look at Jake, I look at Sarah and I realise that he really has been the man to make me smile. I can’t stop. ‘Sure.’ It was supposed to be casual, but comes out all croaky. When he opens the car door I positively swoon into it. It’s all sleek and shiny, and smells nice.
‘Wait a moment, Samantha, Samantha!’ My mother is delving in her handbag as Jake closes the door. Oh my God, she’s going for condoms, I just know she is.
‘Move, quick!’ Jake puts his seatbelt on far too slowly. ‘Quick!’
He finally starts the engine, just as she yells triumphantly and holds a bag in the air. ‘Here they are! Wait, Samantha, I’ve got…’
We never hear what she’s got because we roar away from the kerb in a very satisfying way. Honestly, do mothers embarrass you for the whole of your life?
Looking back in the wing mirror, the bag does look a little on the small side, it could have just been sweets for the journey.
I don’t care though. It’s always safest to move first and ask questions later.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Jake is laughing as he turns out of the end of the road. ‘You look like Harry when he’s spotted a squirrel.’
‘Smelling the car.’ It is gorgeous. Opulent is the word. It’s also a way of hiding the fact that this feels a bit awkward, a bit first date-ish and I’m not quite sure if we’re carrying on where we left off (bed head hair and obscene lust) or he’s just giving me a non-carnal birthday treat.
‘Have you never smelled leather before?’ He is amused, but slightly awkward too. A bit Mr Bean-ish if I’m honest. Though of course he doesn’t look like Mr Bean.
‘Not like this. It smells of posh, of rich.’ It’s nice, and so is the hand resting inches from my knee. He moves one finger, just far enough so it catches my leg. That is so not first date-ish. I gulp and start counting trees. Which makes me a bit dizzy, the speed we’re going.
‘Equity rates have gone up then?’ That comes spurting out to distract me from the warm feeling that seems to be creeping into places it shouldn’t, and the fact that the tree counting is making me feel a bit nauseous.
‘Sorry.’ He gives a deep rumbling laugh that fills the car and warms me up even more. ‘It isn’t mine. Spielberg hasn’t rung yet.’
‘How disappointing, I’m surprised after your sterling performance in Scotland.’ I fiddle with opening the window and closing it so that I don’t have to look at him. I’d like to just sit and stare at him, and stare some more. But is it really a good idea to let him know how desperate I am to have his hands on me again? How totally sexy I find him? ‘I’d have thought Richard Curtis would have been onto you like a shot.’
‘News obviously hasn’t crossed the border, once it does we’ll be buying his and hers models.’
I quite like the ‘we’ bit. Maybe it is safe to unclamp my knees, which I’ve been squeezing together. ‘I bet Harry’s glad you’re back from Greece. I bet he’s missed you.’ Dogs are safe ground. You can discuss dogs with anybody, total strangers in fact, and not be considered abnormal or forward.
‘I missed him, but I can take him to Cornwall with me.’ He puts hi
s hand back on the steering wheel, ignoring the fact that I’ve now relaxed my legs, and stares ahead. ‘I’ve missed you too, Sam.’
‘Really?’ I quite like the fact I’ve been missed.
‘Really. A lot. You’re a pain in the neck if you must know.’
‘That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said.’ Though the wanting to make me smile thing was even nicer. I’m beginning to think thirty might be getting off to a good start. ‘I’ve got a bit of a confession actually.’
‘Oh?’ His foot dithers on the accelerator and we do a mini bunny hop, then normal service resumes.
‘I looked at flights to Greece.’ It sounds like it was a good job I didn’t act impetuously and rush out there, we might have been on passing planes in the sky.
‘So you missed me too?’
‘Just a little bit.’
He’s grinning, even though he’s still looking ahead. Then he turns and glances my way, his lovely eyes all wrinkly at the corners.
‘Maybe a medium-sized bit.’ Or even a whopping big bit, but I’ll save that for later. ‘I thought I’d frightened you off, that you’d run away.’
‘Honey.’ He’s doing that honey thing again, complete with sexy drawl, I’ve rather missed it. ‘I don’t run away from girls, especially ones I fancy the pants off.’
‘You fancy the pants off me? Really?’
‘Totally! I’ll demonstrate later, I’m good at getting pants off.’ And he does that cheeky wink and dirty grin, which makes me feel a bit hot and bothered so I go back to stroking the car upholstery.
‘Where are we going?’ I’ve realised that we have crossed the sign that thanks us for visiting my town and seem to be heading for the motorway.
‘Surprise. It’s not far, sit back and enjoy the trip.’
The Wedding Date Page 28