And Now You're Back

by Jill Mansell

  ‘And after that?’

  ‘The next time we were at a party and he accused me of fancying one of his friends. I didn’t,’ said Didi, ‘I was just being polite, but he wouldn’t stop going on about it. I said I didn’t think us seeing each other was working out, but he begged me to give him one more chance. So then we met up again a few days later in a park. There was a guy there throwing a ball to his dog, and one time the ball landed at my feet. I teased the dog for a few seconds before giving the ball back, and that was when my psycho so-called boyfriend accused me of publicly humiliating him by flirting with the other guy and using his dog as an excuse.’

  ‘Nice of him,’ said Shay.

  ‘So I told him it was over, walked out of the park and caught a taxi home. And that was it, I never saw him again after that.’

  ‘Good. How about the ones you did get engaged to?’

  Didi flashed a smile. ‘Have you been wondering about them ever since Sylvia told you about them on your first day back here?’

  ‘Maybe. Just natural curiosity.’ He was maintaining a straight face but there was a telltale glint in his eyes. Didi realised she was leaning across the table towards him, and Shay was mirroring the angle. She sat back and took a glug of iced water, adjusting her body language in case other people were surreptitiously taking note. Far better to look as if they were business acquaintances, all above board.

  Then again, no reason why she couldn’t tell him about the fiancés. ‘Well, the first one was never meant to happen, for a start. His name was Craig and we got together in our final year at uni. But it was one of those relationships that was always pretty casual, so once we graduated I just assumed we’d go our separate ways. Except I didn’t have the heart to break up with him, so it kind of limped on for a bit longer. When Craig came down to see me on the twenty-third of December, I’d already decided that as soon as Christmas was out of the way I was definitely going to tell him it was over. It cost me a fortune,’ she added wryly. ‘I bought him a really expensive leather jacket because I felt so guilty about being the bad guy.’

  ‘Go on,’ Shay prompted, clearly enjoying hearing about her dating disasters.

  ‘Well, my dad was throwing a big party here in the hotel that night, so it was full of friends, people we’d all known for years.’ Just the memory of the evening was making Didi’s spine prickle with mortification. ‘Craig and I had already opened our presents to each other because the next morning he had to drive up to Perth to spend Christmas with his family. He’d given me a really weird orange knitted dress that made me look like a frankfurter, and I had to wear it, even though it felt like my insides were being microwaved. But at least he’d bought me something that hadn’t cost as much as the leather jacket. I was glad about that.’

  The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their food. Didi picked up her knife and fork and continued, ‘Anyway, so all of a sudden the music stopped and there was Craig standing by the Christmas tree asking everyone to be quiet because he had something important to say.’

  ‘And that was the moment you knew.’

  ‘It was the moment everyone in the room knew.’ Didi shivered at the memory. ‘I wanted to run away and hide. I couldn’t believe he was going to do it. But he did. He made me join him, then gave this whole speech about how much we loved each other and how I’d made him the happiest man in the world, and I wanted to faint with embarrassment. It just seemed to be going on forever. Then he went down on one knee, produced a ring and asked me to marry him.’

  ‘And you said yes.’

  ‘I had to! He had that huge audience there, everyone whooping and cheering and clapping like seals. How could I say no? Well, I couldn’t even speak,’ she amended. ‘I just nodded and he put the ring on my finger, then he kissed me and the crowd went wild. And that was it, I was engaged. Happy Christmas to me.’

  Shay looked amused. ‘Awkward. What was the ring like?’

  Diplomatically, she said, ‘Oh, maybe I wouldn’t have chosen it for myself, but I’m sure lots of girls would have loved it. Plus it was too big so I had to keep my fist clenched for the rest of the night to stop it falling off.’

  ‘And how long did the engagement last?’

  ‘Nine days. As soon as we’d got New Year out of the way, I told him I couldn’t do it and gave him back the ring.’

  ‘Was he upset?’

  ‘Just a bit! But how could I have let it carry on? I let him down as gently as I could and said we’d always be friends. But Craig didn’t want us to be friends, so that was that.’ She paused, remembering. ‘I’ve got a photo somewhere on my laptop of the proposal, sent to me by one of my dad’s friends. You can actually see the terror in my eyes.’

  ‘Poor guy.’ Shay shook his head. ‘Do you know if he ever recovered?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Or was he scarred for life?’

  ‘Complete recovery. No scars.’ Didi smiled. ‘He’s living in Cardiff now, married to a beautiful dentist called Alesha, twin boys called something and something,’ she’d seen the photos on Facebook last year, ‘and a Maltese terrier called Digby.’

  They got on with eating their food before it was completely cold. Vestiges of her earlier dream were still flickering through Didi’s brain, playfully taunting her and sending little rushes of adrenalin through her veins. She was still taking care to sit back and look as if this was nothing more than a pleasant casual dinner with an old friend, but her body knew better. Her body was more interested in wondering what might have happened in the dream if Sylvia hadn’t burst into the room and woken her up.

  ‘So that was the first one.’ Shay broke into her tumultuous thoughts. ‘How about the second?’

  OK, concentrate. ‘You really want to know?’

  ‘Of course I want to know.’

  She’d known he would. ‘Right, but you mustn’t laugh. This one doesn’t do me any favours.’

  His eyes glittered in the candlelight. ‘I like the sound of this story already.’

  ‘His name was Pierre, he lived in Monte Carlo and he came over to the UK to stay with his grandmother in Stow-on-the-Wold because she’d developed Parkinson’s and needed someone to keep an eye on her. The family was wealthy and his parents wanted to make sure she wasn’t being taken advantage of, and Pierre was an artist, which meant he could work anywhere.’

  ‘A good artist?’

  ‘Abstract.’ Didi pulled a face. ‘So who knows? Anyway, he brought Grandmère here one evening for her birthday; that was how we met. Then he came back the next day without her and told me I was the one for him. It was a coup de foudre apparently, love at first sight. Was I single? Did I feel the same way? When could he see me again?’

  ‘And when did you see him again?’

  ‘That night. He was French,’ Didi emphasised ruefully. ‘He looked like a film star and had an accent to die for. I’d spent the last two years working flat out with no time to even think about boyfriends, and all of a sudden here was someone volunteering for the job. Plus he was super-cool and drop-dead gorgeous.’

  Shay’s eyes flickered from her eyes to her mouth and back again. ‘So you went for it.’

  Why had he looked at her mouth? Did she have spinach on her teeth? And did he have any idea how that flickering glance made her feel?

  She shrugged. ‘Everyone said I’d be crazy not to. So I did. And we had the most amazing time. It was one of those whirlwind relationships, and I really thought this was the one. His grandmother was a sweetheart too. Then after four months, he proposed to me.’

  ‘Four months?’ Shay whistled. ‘That’s pretty quick.’

  ‘I know, but it felt right. And this time there was no audience. I said yes and he gave me an antique diamond ring that had been in his family for generations. It even fitted. I was twenty-four and I thought this was it for the rest of my life.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Oh, he got fed up because I was working longer hours than he was happy with. So he started secretly seeing some woman w
ho ran an art gallery in Oxford, and when I found out about it – because they didn’t make much of an effort to keep it a secret – Pierre complained that it was my fault for leaving him on his own and caring about my career more than I cared about him. He said how else was he meant to pass the time? And I was devastated – I mean, properly heartbroken; I just couldn’t believe he’d done this to me – but he still thought I was the one to blame.’ She shook her head and took another swallow of wine. ‘Finally he offered me a deal. He agreed to give up his girlfriend in Oxford if I promised not to work more than forty hours a week.’

  Shay raised an eyebrow. ‘He sounds great.’

  ‘So I said no, I wouldn’t do that, and he said, well, it was a shame, but if that was my decision could he have his ring back?’

  ‘I hope you at least threw it into the river,’ said Shay. ‘Or stuffed it down his throat.’

  ‘Except I couldn’t, because it didn’t belong to him. It was his grandmother’s.’

  ‘Were you really devastated?’

  ‘Utterly. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, went through the next couple of weeks like a complete zombie. Because I just couldn’t believe I’d fallen in love with someone capable of doing that to me. I felt gullible and stupid and furious with myself for getting it so wrong, but at the same time I still missed him.’ She gestured helplessly with her fork. ‘Isn’t that crazy? I’m telling you, it wasn’t a happy time.’

  He was giving her that all-seeing look again. ‘But you got over him. Or did you? Maybe you still secretly dream about him . . .?’

  Didi shook her head. Enough talk about dreams. ‘Time heals. And it helped to hear that he had broken up with the woman with the art gallery. A week after that, he moved on to someone else, then another someone, then he got caught with a married TV actress, whose husband broke his nose. I suppose I finally saw him for what he was and realised he’d never be happy with just one woman in his life. And I decided to go back to concentrating on my career instead.’

  Shay tore off a piece of focaccia and pointed it at her. ‘Good for you.’

  ‘I can’t believe I just told you that story. My greatest humiliation.’

  ‘Honestly?’ A faint smile. ‘I liked hearing it.’

  Of course he would. She’d let Shay down when it mattered most, hadn’t she? Having her heart broken by a charming unfaithful Frenchman was karma in its purest form.

  ‘So what happened after that?’

  ‘I concentrated on my career. Again. Until Aaron came along and—’

  ‘Swept you off your feet?’

  Had there been sweeping involved?

  ‘Until Aaron came along and made me realise there were good men in the world who weren’t selfish and immature and only interested in sleeping with other women behind their girlfriend’s back.’

  ‘Do you ever really know that for sure?’ said Shay.

  ‘I trust him. Completely. After Pierre, I didn’t think I would ever trust again, but Aaron changed my mind. He won me over and ticked every box. He’s the kind of man anyone would want to marry. Not a bad bone in his body . . .’ OK, stop now, before it sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself.

  There was such a thing as showering your fiancé with too much praise.

  Shay searched her face for a second. ‘Well, good for you,’ he said, as if he meant it. ‘I’m happy you’ve found—’

  ‘Oh my God, it is you! Shay Mason, I can’t believe it. Hello!’

  Chapter 17

  Bossy Bella Carpenter had been in Shay’s year at school and her voice had always been loud. Now, as she approached their table like a ship in full sail, all heads turned and Shay was forced to rise to his feet in order to be clutched in her embrace.

  ‘How amazing, back at last – gosh, we have some serious catching-up to do! And look at you two, having dinner together. Where’s that handsome man of yours, Didi? Shay, it’s so good to see you again, and looking so well.’

  Alerted by the racket, Sylvia poked her head around the entrance to the restaurant and caught Didi’s eye. Didi pushed back her chair. ‘Sorry, looks like I’m needed out in reception.’ Resting a hand on Bella’s pillowy upper arm, she added cheerfully, ‘I was just telling Shay all about Aaron, so thank you for calling him handsome!’

  Just as well they’d finished their meal; as Didi left the restaurant, Bella Carpenter was already sliding into her empty seat. Deciding to give them ten minutes together, she chatted for a while with Sylvia and they agreed that Bella was both the noisiest and the nosiest inhabitant of Elliscombe. Through the doorway, they could hear and see her being her extravagant, cackling self.

  ‘She’s finishing your glass of wine.’ Sylvia was aghast.

  ‘She’s welcome to it. At least I’m not having to listen to her bellowing on about her precious holiday apartment in Cala d’Or.’ It occurred to Didi that if she was going to spend the rest of the evening in Layla’s flat without Layla there to keep her company, she could do with something to read. ‘OK, I’m going to leave them to it. I’ll just pick up a book, then head over the road. Don’t worry, I’ll text Shay and let him know.’

  ‘Ooh, have you tried that one I lent you last week? About the psychopathic granny baking severed heads inside birthday cakes?’ Sylvia was hooked on thrillers, the more grisly and stomach-churning the better.

  The book’s blood-spattered cover design had been enough to put Didi off. ‘Is that a giant spoiler?’

  ‘Oh yes. Sorry! It’s still brilliant, though.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll read it. I don’t know how you can enjoy stuff like that.’

  Sylvia winked. ‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.’

  ‘Fine, but I’m never going to eat any cake you’ve baked for me.’

  Upstairs, Didi headed over to the private quarters and let herself into her apartment. She found the novel Sylvia had lent her and read the blurb on the back cover: The inhabitants of Upper Sisley are losing their heads. But who is taking them and where are they being hidden? It’s up to Marjory Buttermaker to find out!

  No need to bother with that one then.

  As she was sorting through her shelves of paperbacks, the half-open door was pushed wider and Shay came in.

  ‘You escaped,’ said Didi.

  ‘Just about. One minute you and I were having dinner together, the next you’d thrown me under the bus.’

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t want Bella to think she was breaking up something . . . you know, significant.’

  ‘She finished your glass of wine.’

  ‘I know, I saw that. How did you manage to get away?’

  ‘Told her I had to take a conference call with a company in New York.’ He paused. ‘I wasn’t expecting to find you here.’

  ‘Just dropped by to pick up something to read.’ Didi waved the book currently in her hand, then realised it was titled The One That Got Away and hastily shoved it back on the shelf.

  ‘We could go downstairs and get another drink if you want. Bella’s left, so it’d be safe.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Didi shook her head; even prior to Bella’s arrival she’d been aware of other diners keeping a surreptitious eye on her. Which was fine when you’d absolutely nothing to hide, but less comfortable when the whole reason for sitting together in public was to convince your audience that this was the case.

  Especially when – let’s be honest here – it wasn’t.

  ‘I know.’ Effortlessly reading her mind, Shay said, ‘I felt it too. But there’s no reason why we couldn’t have another drink up here, before you go over to Layla’s.’

  Could he really not think of a reason? Did that mean she was the only one battling with her emotions? Teetering on the edge, she heard herself say, ‘OK, just one drink.’ Well, she hadn’t been able to find a book that grabbed her attention. ‘There’s a bottle of Vouvray in the fridge. Shall I open it?’

  ‘I’ll do a deal with you,’ said Shay. ‘Let me sort out the wine. You find that photo of yo
u being proposed to by the first of the three fiancés.’

  He disappeared into her tiny kitchen and Didi peered at the desktop. By the time he returned with two glasses, she’d found the incriminating photograph.

  ‘I see what you mean about the outfit.’ For a moment, as he leaned in closer for a better look, Shay’s forearm brushed against hers, and she didn’t dare glance down because she could feel the little hairs on her own arm standing to attention.

  ‘I really did look like a knitted frankfurter.’

  ‘The expression on your face,’ said Shay. ‘God, I’d love to have been there.’

  And for a moment Didi couldn’t speak, because if he had been there, if they’d stayed together and Shay had never left Elliscombe, she would never have got involved with Craig in the first place.

  She gave herself a mental shake. ‘OK, now let’s show you Pierre.’ She began scrolling forward at the speed of light, whizzing through the next couple of man-free years. ‘Here he is.’

  Shay slanted an eyebrow. ‘Looks like a smooth bastard.’

  He did too. Hindsight was a wonderful thing. Skimming forward again, Didi found the section containing recent photos featuring herself and Aaron. Out of a sense of pride, even though Shay had already met him in person, she wanted to find the ones that made Aaron look his best.

  After a second, Shay nodded. ‘I hope he makes you happy.’

  ‘He does.’ And now her heart was thudding against her ribs, because whilst it wasn’t a lie, it suddenly felt like one.

  ‘Got any more?’

  ‘Of Aaron? Loads!’ She brought up the next one, of Aaron striking one of his Hollywood poses, then hastily slid past before Shay could pass comment.

  ‘Actually, I meant photos of any more boyfriends.’

  ‘No.’ Was it embarrassing that there hadn’t really been any others? Her dating history had been patchy to say the least.

  ‘Not even the first one?’ said Shay.

  She turned sideways to look at him. ‘You mean you? We didn’t have mobile phones back then.’ It had been just before they’d become affordable for teenagers. Somewhere in the back of a drawer was a box containing random photos taken at parties using cheap disposable cameras, but that was as far as it went.