by Rhoda Baxter
"Don't I get to have a shower first?" said Jane, laughing.
Polly looked her up and down. "I suppose. But you've got to tell me immediately after."
"I promise." Jane hung up her handbag and coat and headed towards her room.
"Are you going out with him tonight?" Polly shouted after her.
"He's going to call me to sort out a time and place." She returned to the living room and fished her new phone out of her bag. Looking meaningfully at Polly, she took it into the bathroom with her.
* * * *
Refreshed after her shower, Jane spent a few minutes in her room, blow-drying her hair so that it fell smoothly around her face. She was sitting on the bed, using a mirror that was propped on a bookcase to apply her makeup when Polly knocked.
"It's open," she said.
Polly put her head round the door. "I've poured you a glass of wine." Her eyes drifted to the phone, which was lying on the bed, next to Jane. "Did he ring?"
"Not yet," Jane looked at her watch. Seven o'clock. Perhaps Marsh was still at work.
"He's probably on his way home. There's no reception on the underground."
Jane set her eyeliner pencil aside and stood. "I think I'll come have that glass of wine in the living room."
She followed Polly out and flopped onto the sofa. "Where's Andy tonight?" She picked up the glass of wine Polly had poured.
"Never mind him," said Polly. "Tell me what happened last night."
Jane outlined the evening's events up to the point where she went to Marsh's flat. When she finished, Polly was staring at her, a hand up to her mouth.
"Oh, that's just so... romantic. I haven't had excitement like that in...oh, years."
"But you've got Andy. And you love each other. All I've had so far is one night." Her gaze slid to the phone. Until now, she had been confident there was more to it than that, but the fact that Marsh hadn't rung yet was starting to worry her.
"He'll call." As if on cue, the phone rang. Polly gave a little squeak.
Jane picked up the phone and walked towards the kitchen.
"Hi Jane, it's Marsh."
There was an awkward silence. Jane felt a creeping sense of unease. "Marsh?"
"Jane, I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to postpone meeting up. My sister and her boyfriend are descending on the flat tonight..."
"Okay," said Jane, her mood starting to sink. "Do you, want to go out instead?"
"Well, I'd love to, but I really want to meet this guy...the boyfriend, I mean. I think he's...well, he's my sister's boyfriend. I should meet him." He sighed. "Jane, I'm really sorry to mess you about like this. Would you mind if we met up tomorrow instead? Stevie assures me they'll clear off by lunchtime, so we'd have the flat to ourselves for the rest of the weekend."
"Um..." Jane stared at the shelves in the kitchen. He didn't want to see her that night. Perhaps he was having second thoughts. What should she say now? She didn't want to sound like she didn't care, but at the same time she didn't want to seem needy. She thought of the night before and tears started to threaten. She blinked them back.
"Jane?" Marsh sounded anxious. "Are you still there?"
Jane cleared her throat. "Uh-huh."
"Jane, I promise you, I'm not playing mind games with you. I really truly do want to see you, but Stevie just dropped this on me with no notice."
"Right."
"So, tomorrow...?"
Jane turned around. Polly was sitting on the sofa, watching. If she said no to Marsh, she would have to put up with Polly's questions all weekend. "Sure," she said, almost a sigh. "Why not."
"Brilliant! Shall I meet you in Covent Garden? At about eleven?"
"Okay," said Jane. She listened while he described the place to meet.
"Sounds good," she said, trying not to let her disappointment show. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yes. I'm looking forward to it."
"Me too." Her voice came out too soft. "I'd better go. Bye."
"Bye."
She hung up and stood still, staring at the phone, not sure how she felt.
"Jane?" Polly came up behind her. "What was that all about?"
"He postponed until tomorrow lunchtime. His sister's introducing him to her boyfriend or something."
"And?"
Jane sighed. "And nothing, I guess. I'd just mentally prepared myself for seeing him tonight, that's all."
Polly took her arm and propelled her towards the sofa. She thrust the glass of wine into Jane's hand. "That's not it, is it?" She sat beside Jane and picked up her own glass.
Jane took a sip of wine. She closed her eyes and savoured the warmth of the alcohol going down her throat. Why was she so upset? It was just a cancelled date, with a perfectly plausible explanation. But then Ashby had always had plausible explanations for his sudden absences. A jam session with the guys, a meeting with their manager, going out for a drink after a recording. All very good reasons for his not coming home when he should. But only half of them had been true.
"This is about Ashby, isn't it?"
Jane opened her eyes. "What?"
"Just because Ashby lied to you doesn't mean that everyone else is going to lie to you too."
"I know that."
"So, why is the fact that Marsh postponed your date bothering you so much? It's not like he cancelled on you."
"I don't know. I just can't shake this feeling that something's not right."
Polly leaned forward and took Jane's hand. "Jane, we've been friends since we were ten. I know you. Before this stuff with Ashby, you wouldn't have had a problem with someone moving a date. You were such a trusting person."
"Yes, and look where that got me. Not only did he cheat on me, he publicly humiliated me. I don't know which is worse."
"Honey, I know he hurt you, but you really do have to let it go."
"How can I? I loved Ashby. I thought he loved me too. Then I find out that for months I've been living a lie. How can I just forget that and move on like it never happened? I let it happen once, how do I know it's not going to happen again? Maybe I've got 'use me, I'm a sap' written on my forehead. Maybe I'm just terrible at judging character." Tears welled and she squashed them away with her palm.
Polly squeezed her arm. "You're a nice person, Jane. It doesn't mean you're a sap. When you first met Ashby, he was basically a nice person too. You guys were well suited. It's just that when he suddenly became famous, it went to his head a bit. He changed. It's not your fault."
"But how did I not see it coming?"
"Who would? You were happy for him and as supportive as it was humanly possible to be. There's no way you could have known that he was going to be seduced by a tart from Hollyoaks."
Jane stared into her drink. A tear rolled down her cheek. "She wasn't the only one," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "There were others. One night stands, mostly. Pete from the band told me. He felt bad for covering for Ash. Everyone knew, Pol. Everyone but me."
"Oh Jane." Polly scooted close and hugged her. "Oh Jane, I'm so sorry."
Jane buried her face in Polly's shoulder. "I feel so...used." She had kept this extra news to herself for months, not wanting to add to the evidence of just how gullible she had been. Now that she had told Polly, she felt an odd sense of release. Tears flowed, but she did nothing to stop them. Polly held her, as always, a source of comfort.
"You can't let him poison everything else for you too," said Polly, after some time. "You've met someone new now. You like this Marsh guy, right?"
Jane nodded.
"Well, you have to give him a chance then. You can't let Ashby ruin this for you."
Jane leaned back and stared at Polly's earnest face.
"From what I can tell," said Polly. "All Marsh's done is postpone a date. That's hardly a crime. Did he say he really wanted to see you?"
Jane nodded.
"And you still want to see him?"
"Yes."
"Well then." Polly spread her hands. "Why don
't you give it a chance?"
Polly was right. She thought of Marsh's shy smile. Could she really compare that to Ashby's confident grin? Everything she knew about Marsh made him the polar opposite of Ashby. He was analytical, where Ashby was creative; he was caring, where Ashby was self-centred; and he was a thoughtful lover where Ashby had relied on youthful enthusiasm. Surely, it wasn't so hard to believe that he would be honest where Ashby was not.
She wiped the tears off her face. "You're right. I'm just being silly."
Polly gave her a fond smile. "That's my girl." She returned to her own chair. Picking up the bottle of wine, she topped up both glasses. She raised hers. "Besides, you're not such a bad judge of character. You picked me for a best friend."
Jane smiled back and clinked her glass against Polly's.
"Since neither of us has any plans tonight," said Polly. "How about we get a DVD and some chocolate and have a girly night in?"
* * * *
Jane woke up the next morning feeling strangely light headed. So much so, she wondered if she was still drunk from the night before. Rather than making things worse, sharing her sorrow about Ashby's betrayal had somehow loosened the grip he had on her. She wished she had told Polly sooner. She hummed to herself as she brushed her teeth.
Back in her room, she pulled out her suitcase and surveyed her clothes. She needed something that was casual, but sexy. It was inconvenient, having only her work clothes and a few pairs of jeans at Polly's. She could hardly wait to move into her own place, so she could bring the rest of her clothes down from her mum's attic.
She made a mental note to contact Ashby again and try to get the deposit cheque from him. And then it occurred to her that she had just thought about Ashby without the familiar ache stirring in her stomach. Perhaps it was a good thing she had spent the previous evening with Polly and not Marsh.
After trying on several outfits, she settled on jeans, t shirt and a cowl necked jumper that hugged her slim figure, whilst making her breasts look larger than they were. She packed a spare top and some underwear into a small bag and went into the kitchen, still humming. She was half way through her breakfast when Polly shuffled in, wearing her dressing gown.
"Morning," said Jane.
Polly waved in her direction and poured herself a cup of coffee. "You look nice. And cheerful." She popped some bread into the toaster. "Looking forward to the rest of weekend?" she said, with a wicked grin.
Jane grinned back. "Yes, you could say that."
"I'm almost jealous," Polly said. "What have I got to look forward to? A trip to the cinema, if I'm lucky. He's not a great romantic, my Andy."
"Oh, stop moaning. You'll have the flat to yourselves for the weekend. And don't pretend you'll spend it watching DVDs."
Polly laughed. "I'm glad you're in a better mood."
"Thank you. I think I really needed to get things out of my system."
"I'm glad you did," said Polly. "Any time you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you. You know that."
"I know." She gave Polly a quick hug. "And I really appreciate it."
"It was nothing." Polly gave her a little push. "Now get going. You're making me feel all frumpy with your long legs and nice jumper. Shoo."
Chapter 16
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Marshall Winfield
Well, we're leaving at 2pm and the flat is all yours. I'd like to say it was nice, but it wasn't really. Did you have to be so rude to Buzz? What's got into you?
Stevie.
##
From: Marshall Winfield
To: Stevie Winfield
I wasn't rude. I just told him to mind his own business. I didn't want to discuss the possible value of the flat with him. Nor talk about how your trust fund works.
Please try and leave the flat in a reasonable state. Like clear up after you have breakfast. The kitchen was a disaster this morning. What did you do when you got in? It sounded pretty raucous around 2 in the morning. I'm surprised Mrs. Watkins didn't come storming round.
Marsh
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Marshall Winfield
Will you listen to yourself? Anyone would think you were in your fifties. Lighten up, Marsh. Just because I needed looking after when I was a kid doesn't mean you need to hound me now. I'm over 18 and I can do what I like, with whomever I like.
I can't believe Mum and Dad gave you power over my money until I'm 21. I bet they didn't realise you'd be such a despot about it.
Don't worry, we'll leave the flat in a respectable state so that you can show your precious girlfriend round.
Stevie
##
From: Marshall Winfield
To: Stevie Winfield
Look, I'm just worried about you. I know you think you love this guy, but believe me, he doesn't love you. You're just too close to see it. He'll keep borrowing money from you until you refuse and then he'll leave.
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Marshall Winfield
Oh yeah, and you're such an expert on relationships. One word. DOMINIQUE.
Besides, I don't have to listen to you anymore. I'm an adult now.
##
From: Marshall Winfield
To: Stevie Winfield
Perhaps you should start acting like one, then.
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Marshall Winfield
F*** off.
##
From: Marshall Winfield
To: James Edwards
Well, I finally met the famous Buzz. And, I hate to say it, but I think I was right. From the moment he got there, he was looking round with a calculating eye. I don't trust him.
Unfortunately, Stevie seems to be totally besotted by him. I'm not sure what she sees in him. He doesn't even appear to be very clean.
Marsh.
* * * *
Jane looked round the crowded coffee shop and didn't see Marsh. Doubt wriggled into her mind. Had he stood her up?
Maybe she had been too optimistic about him. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. She wasn't even sure she wanted another relationship so soon after Ashby.
As she turned to leave, she spotted Marsh, at a back table frowning at his Blackberry, with a cup of coffee and a half eaten muffin on the table. He appeared to be concentrating on what he was doing. He hadn't stood her up. He was waiting for her, just as he'd said he would be.
Jane remembered her conversation with Polly the night before. She couldn't let Ashby ruin her chances of finding someone new. She lifted her chin and started towards him.
Because she was looking directly at him, she saw the exact moment he noticed her. His face lit up and he smiled, like a child on Christmas morning. His whole body seemed to become lighter as he scrambled to his feet. The doubts in Jane's mind evaporated, replaced by a thrill of pleasure. No one had looked that delighted to see her in years.
Weaving her way among the tables felt almost as if she was taking a journey from the office to a different world. When she said "Hi," she felt as if they were meeting after a long separation.
He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. "You look...fabulous."
Jane giggled. She was used to the phrase, having heard it shrieked between air kisses many times when she'd been with Ashby, but she had never heard any sincerity behind it.
This time it sounded heartfelt. At that moment, she felt fabulous.
"Do you want a coffee?" He slipped his Blackberry into his jacket pocket.
>
She shook her head. "What's the plan for today?"
"What would you like to do? I'm all yours." He paused. "In a manner of speaking."
Jane had to laugh. "I'd quite like to see London. You know, do touristy stuff. I've been here a few weeks now, but I haven't really done the sightseeing thing yet." She didn't mention the reason was that she still hadn't got over the fear of photographers jumping out at her.
"Touristy stuff it is, then." Casually he gestured, offering to take her overnight bag.
Astounded, she let him take the small girly bag and sling it over his shoulder. Ashby would not have been seen dead carrying a bag with daisies embroidered on it. Marsh didn't seem to care. He took her hand and together they walked out into the overcast London day.
* * * *
It took Jane a while to relax. She was still half expecting people to stare and point. At first, she kept reminding herself that the man holding her hand wasn't a pop star, but a normal, non-glamorous patent lawyer, and that in London no one knew or cared who she was. Once she finally loosened up, helped considerably by a nice lunch and a glass of wine, she felt a warm sense of happiness as she and Marsh walked along the packed streets.
In the evening, they stopped to watch the sun set over the Thames. As it disappeared, the meagre heat of the day went with it. Jane shivered.
Marsh, who had his arm round her, shrugged off his jacket and draped it on her shoulders. Standing behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her gently to him. The coat was comfortingly warm and smelled faintly of him. She leaned back against his broad chest and sighed. How could she have even thought of not coming out with him? How long had it been since she had felt so cherished?
She turned her head and looked up.
"It's getting cold," he said with a smile. "Shall we go home?"
Her heart responded by increasing its pace. "Lets."
He continued to gaze at her for a moment before lowering his head to kiss her.
In that brief moment Jane felt like she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
* * * *
Jane sank into the sofa in Marsh's flat and stretched her legs out. The day's walking had tired her out. Marsh was pouring wine. Her senses were so attuned to him that she was aware of where he was, even when she couldn't see him.