Rules for Dating a Romantic Hero

by Evans, Harriet

  ‘Laura?’

  And she’d said, ‘Hi, Nick. I’m back.’

  ‘Thank God,’ he’d said, and his voice was hoarse. ‘Can I see you? Is that why you’re ringing?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she’d said, holding back tears, because it was so damn lovely to hear him again. ‘Can you come down here? Or shall I … I can get the last train—’

  ‘I’m coming to you right now,’ he’d said, and he’d put the phone down and jumped straight into a car. She’d had to leave him a message giving him her new address, and when he’d arrived later that night, on the quiet street in West Hampstead, she was waiting for him.

  She heard the car and leaned out of the window to see him standing there in the road, looking up at her. His hands were clenched by his sides. When she buzzed him in and opened the door to her flat, she watched him taking the stairs three at a time, as her heart pounded in her chest and she told herself what she knew would always be true: You will never love anyone the way you love him.

  The feel of his arms wrapping around her, his lips on her skin, his heart beating close to hers, and his voice saying, ‘Jesus, Laura, I’ve missed you. Don’t ever leave me again.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she said. ‘I won’t,’ and when she looked at him his eyes were swimming with tears, and she couldn’t say anything else. Then the hours turned into days and the days to months, and they were so happy they’d found each other again.

  The only problem was, of course, that nothing had really changed at all.

  Rule Five:

  Watch Downton Abbey. You never know, it may come in useful some day.

  ‘Raise your chin, Laura. Turn towards me.’ Laura twisted on the arm of the sofa, her back aching. ‘That’s it. Hold the book up a little. Now relax, look natural. Pretend it’s just the two of you, a quiet evening in.’

  ‘We always sit like this,’ Nick said to the photographer. ‘Just … you know, we come into the Red Drawing Room of an evening, and we plonk ourselves down on the eighteenth-century silk-covered sofa, facing away from each other, and I take up all the room while Laura perches on the arm, holding a book and just smiling. That’s how we roll.’

  ‘Yes sir,’ said the photographer, snapping away, not even pretending to listen. ‘Laura, love, a bit more from you.’

  ‘Uh-uh,’ said Laura, trying not to slide off the sofa.

  ‘Right, some questions then,’ said Jim Cutler, the beefy journalist who had been at the bookshop opening. He moved his recording device closer. ‘Ready?’

  Nick and Laura looked at each other. ‘Ready,’ Laura said.

  ‘The bookshop’s been open a week now, is that right? How’s it going?’

  ‘Really well,’ Laura said. ‘We’ve had a great first few days. Takings are good. We’re just looking to finish the work at the back of the shop to complete the project, and we’re nearly there. In our first week our customer numbers were—’

  Jim Cutler cut in. ‘So … Laura, do you help Nick with the running of the estate?’

  They both laughed. Nick’s hand stole towards hers. ‘No way,’ Laura said. ‘I know my place.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ said Nick. ‘Remember the plans for the maze?’ He looked at Jim. ‘Laura thinks she’s more of a city girl, and I’m trying to persuade her she’s not.’

  ‘One day I thought the sheep in the fields were a different flock, but it turned out they’d just had their wool cut off. Been shorn. Whatever.’

  Nick bit his finger, trying not to laugh. ‘Amazing technical lingo you’ve got there, Laura. Maybe you’re right. What about the time you thought you saw a camel and it turned out to be a horse?’

  ‘Shut up.’ She turned to him, still perched on the arm of the sofa, her eyes sparkling. ‘What about the time you cried when Pamela Stephenson came third in Strictly?’

  ‘She was so musical, though,’ Nick said, outraged. ‘Her hold with James was the best I’ve ever seen.’

  Jim Cutler was staring at them in surprise. ‘OK.’

  ‘Anyway,’ said Laura, tearing her gaze away from Nick’s and thinking she ought to change the subject, ‘I like having something here I can help with. I’m not much good at anything else at Chartley, you see.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Nick said, lowering his voice a little. ‘I think you love this place as much as I do.’

  There was a silence. She wished they were alone, properly alone, for once.

  ‘So you argue, like all couples do, blah blah.’ Jim was scribbling this down in his notebook. ‘They’ll love that. And Laura’s Place, the bookshop, was it your idea?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Laura.

  ‘So … you just said to your boyfriend, can you give me the money?’

  ‘Er, no,’ Laura said. ‘I had to write business proposals for his family’s Trust and for three other charities. I also had to apply for a loan from the bank and help from the council. It’s taken two years to get this off the ground.’

  ‘Sure, sure,’ Jim said. He nodded in a dismissive way. ‘What would you say, then, to those who accuse you of using your boyfriend’s money and position to open this shop?’

  ‘Well, I’d say yes, of course,’ said Laura. She could feel herself getting annoyed. ‘How else could I have done it?’ She knew that didn’t sound quite right and it wasn’t what she meant. Nerves made her voice rise. ‘It’s a serious business proposal. We are still short of the fifty thousand pounds we need to get the whole thing going. But it’s vital in this climate that we push ahead. One hundred and sixty libraries have been shut down in the last two years. A quarter of book-buying budgets have been slashed.’

  She turned to Nick, hoping he’d back her up, but he was fiddling with his phone, and somehow this made her angrier. ‘Hey.’ She leaned down and pushed his hands.

  Journalist Jim looked up, alert as a panther. Nick stuffed the phone into his pocket. ‘Sorry. Crisis in the tea-room.’

  Laura knew he was lying, in that split second.

  ‘Great,’ Jim said, scribbling some more. ‘I’ll get that all in, thanks Laura. So … wedding bells? When’s the big day happening, hm?’

  Laura was caught off-guard. ‘For who?’

  Jim Cutler laughed. ‘For who? For you, of course.’ There was almost a note of scorn in his voice. ‘Everyone wants to know. I was at the bookshop earlier and at least three people were wondering when you two are going to make an announcement.’

  Because you asked them, that’s why, Laura thought.

  ‘I see,’ Laura said. Nick was silent.

  ‘Look guys, sorry. I have to ask this stuff, you know, it’s my job. It’s what sells papers. People love this kind of story, it’s gold dust. It’s what’ll get you your money, too.’ He didn’t sound sorry at all. ‘So what’s the next step?’

  Nick raised his hand. ‘Look, Jim, we’re not going to answer those kinds of questions.’

  ‘Why? It’s what people want to know.’

  ‘Really? I can’t imagine anyone’s that interested.’ Nick’s voice was level, but Laura knew that tone. It meant, leave us alone. ‘And it’s no one else’s business.’

  ‘Is that all you’ve got to say about it to people who work on the estate and are wondering about their future? To our readers, who want you to be happy?’

  Nick stood up. ‘Yes. That’s all I’ve got to say. Most couples don’t have journalists and villagers breathing down their necks all the time. We’re quite private. All in good time.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Hey, give us a break, Jim.’

  He sat down on the sofa next to Laura and put his arm around her. She took his hand and squeezed it. ‘Yeah,’ she said, trying to show support. ‘Just like Nick said.’

  Jim watched them both, then asked calmly, ‘D’you get on OK with your sister – Rose, is it?’

  ‘Of course,’ Nick said carefully, after a pause. Laura kept a straight face. ‘She’s a bit bossy, but I tell her that all the time. Why?’

  Jim shrugged. ‘Well, Lady Rose told me
you’ve been saying you’re desperate to have children. She said you’re worried about the future and who’ll inherit this place. She said … where is it?’ He flipped through the pages of his notebook. ‘Here it is.’ He read slowly, stumbling over his shorthand. ‘Yes. “Nick has told me he has to make some changes. He needs to work out what happens with Chartley. You’ve seen Downton, Jim … we have to have a male heir. Sexist but true, I suppose!” Blah, blah … Oh yeah.

  ‘Then she says “There are problems with Laura. I mean, we all love her, but let’s face it, she’s not a country type. She’s more interested in a children’s bookshop than she’ll ever be in running Chartley Hall. She’s made that clear to Nick, that’s why he offered to bankroll it in the first place. He’d do anything to make her stay. But, you know, he’s been hinting to me about various things lately. I’m not sure how much longer he can put up with it.”’

  Jim looked up at Laura and Nick, then carried on. ‘Er … yes, then Lady Rose says, “He says he’ll have sorted it all out by the end of the year.” Bit brutal.’ He flipped the pages back. ‘What do you have to say to that?’

  Nick swallowed and Laura saw his fists clenching, unclenching, opening and closing. She sat up and smiled, pretending everything was OK. ‘Like we said, that’s our business. Sorry, Jim.’

  Inside her heart was thumping so loudly she was sure they must be able to hear it echoing around the room. The only other sound was the photographer’s camera clicking away.

  Rule Six:

  Don’t storm out after a row. You may say things you regret, and besides, servants hear everything.

  ‘I didn’t say any of that stuff,’ Nick said the moment they were out of the room. ‘I’ll have a word with Rose. She really shouldn’t—’

  ‘Have more than a word with her. Tell her to back off, Nick. Tell her to go back to London and stop interfering in our lives.’

  He paused and put his hand on a side table. ‘All in good time, Laura.’

  Laura didn’t want to lose her temper, not here. ‘Fine.’ She carried on walking down the long corridor, not really knowing what to say. The afternoon sun shone on the family portraits, lighting up the figures under the centuries-old varnish. A glinting eye here on a wicked old Earl; a winking diamond on a lady’s hand; a creamy shoulder, proudly turned towards the onlooker, with a hand outstretched: Look at us. We are the Needhams. Laura had been down this corridor a hundred times, but it had never seemed so crowded before.

  ‘It’s not fine.’

  ‘She’s obviously saying something you told her.’ She cleared her throat. ‘You tell her things you don’t tell me.’

  ‘Well, there’s a reason for that,’ Nick said evenly.

  Suddenly the atmosphere was different. They stood facing each other, and after a moment Laura said, ‘Listen, I should think about getting that train. I’ll call Charles, he said he’d drive me.’

  She walked down the corridor as the last of the visitors was being ushered out of the library. ‘Thank you! Hope you’ve had a wonderful day! You too, madam. Oh,’ the guide said, biting her lip. ‘Good evening, my lord.’

  Her eyes followed Laura, but Laura couldn’t speak all of a sudden. She nodded politely and opened the secret door.

  Nick didn’t follow her. ‘Evening, Cynthia, lovely to see you.’

  ‘Lot of visitors today my lord, all saying how excited they are about the new bookshop.’

  ‘We’re all excited about it. Have you been in yet?’

  ‘No, my lord. Maybe next week, when it’s less crowded. Did you hear about Marian?’

  Nick leaned towards Cynthia and smiled, his face relaxing. ‘No, what? Did she win the award?’

  ‘Oh yes, my lord. She was so pleased she did a jig. Frank was there. He said he’s never seen anything like it, even the judges were …’

  Cynthia had a daughter, didn’t she? But she also had a dog, perhaps it was the dog? But hadn’t her dog just died? Laura shut the door quietly behind her and walked up the stairs to Nick’s room. A powerful desire to be back in London overcame her again, though she knew it was childish. She couldn’t help it: she’d rather be padding round the flat on a Sunday night with her hair in a towel, eating Thai takeaway and chatting to Jo on the phone than here.

  Laura stood still for a few moments, looking around her, and then began throwing her things into an overnight bag. She found her hands were shaking. There are problems with Laura. I mean, we all love her, but let’s face it, she’s not a country type. No, I’m bloody well not. She wanted to open the windows and scream at the departing visitors,

  I’m from Harrow! I got a rosebud duvet set from Marks & Spencer for my tenth birthday! My mum collects coupons! I’m like you! Take me with you!

  She had already finished packing when Nick came in.

  ‘Sorry about that. Cynthia’s daughter’s dog just won a prize at the county fair and I’d promised I’d go and I couldn’t because of today …’

  Laura zipped up the bag. Is this Marian? Dog or daughter? she wanted to ask, but she couldn’t. Before today she would have done; they’d have laughed, and Marian would have been added to their long list of little jokes that only they shared. Like shouting ‘SWAN!’ loudly every time they saw a swan (from the film Hot Fuzz). Or saying, ‘She sells sea shells on the sea shore,’ as fast as possible whenever they passed a Little Chef in the car.

  ‘You’re not going now,’ Nick said. It was a statement, not a question.

  ‘Yeah, I am. I’ll catch the seven o’clock train. I can be back home by nine, I’ve got work to do.’ She fiddled with the zip again, not knowing what to do next. ‘I guess I’ll see you soon.’

  ‘Laura,’ Nick put his hands on her shoulders and said softly, ‘I mean it. You know I didn’t say that. I don’t know what Rose is talking about. Don’t you believe me?’

  ‘I want to believe you,’ she said in a small voice. ‘The trouble is I don’t. Why would Rose make all that stuff up? “It’ll all be sorted out by the end of the year.” What did she mean?’

  Nick’s face was still right in front of hers. She stared up into his dark eyes, willing him to say something, anything that would explain it. I’m selling the house. I’m studying for an A Level in Clown Studies and I have to appear in pantomime for the whole of December as part of my coursework. We’ll be engaged by then. But she knew Nick, and what she loved most of all about him is that he always told the truth. He couldn’t lie, he was incapable of it. The most he’d ever deceived her was when they’d first met.

  Now she looked at him.

  ‘Do you see me here with you at the end of the year? Us together?’

  He paused, and in that tiny, fatal second she knew something was up.

  ‘Yes, of course. I mean, I know we’ve had things to sort out, and that this is a strange time for us, but for God’s sake Laura, yes of course.’

  Laura could feel her heart thumping hard in her chest again. She swallowed. Was this it? ‘Right. So, what do you think needs to happen, then? Do I need to go on a course to learn how to be a proper lady? A bit like your sisters?’

  ‘Don’t be childish.’

  ‘I’m not being childish.’ Laura’s blood thundered in her ears. ‘Nick, can’t you see? This is all wrong. This isn’t how we’re supposed to be. We’ve let all these other things, all these people, tell us what to think and how to be.’ She picked up the bag, bending over so he couldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes, then straightened up, trying to sound calm. ‘I thought things would be different when I came back fr … from the States. But the same old problems keep coming up again. The same … things.’ She tried not to let her voice break. ‘I should go. It’s best if I – look, maybe I won’t come down next week.’

  ‘You can’t just run out again, like you did last time,’ Nick said, his eyes glittering with anger. ‘You’ve got this damned shop now, that should keep you here if nothing else does.’

  ‘I’m so glad you see it like that. As some kind of anchor to tie me
here. Nick, I want to be here, but I … I don’t know what’s up with you lately.’

  ‘I wish you’d just trust me.’ He turned away.

  Laura balled her hands into fists. ‘How can I trust you when you fiddle with your phone all the damn time and won’t tell me what you’re up to? When I don’t know how you spend your days? When you go off and tell your sister you need to have a damned son but you don’t think I’m the right person for the job.’

  ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘Did you say that stuff to Rose?’ she shouted. ‘Did you?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that,’ he said quietly. His voice was neutral. ‘Can’t you … understand?’

  The evening sun fell into the room, bathing them in rosy light and long shadows. ‘I don’t recognise myself any more when I’m down here. It’s the same as always. Oh, Nick. I love – I love you. But we keep having this problem and we can’t get past it. We have to change. Something has to change.’

  ‘I don’t want you to change.’ Nick took a step towards her. ‘Laura, I’ve never asked that. I want you to stay the same. The person I fell in love with.’ His face was an inch away from hers. ‘I just wish you …’ He put his hands on her cheeks. She could feel his breath.

  ‘Wish I what?’

  ‘Wanted it all more.’ His hands dropped to his sides. ‘This.’

  She felt so sad then. ‘I do want it.’ Laura picked up her bag again and slung it over her shoulder. ‘But maybe I’m not the right person for the job.’ Her voice was small. She thought she would cry and she mustn’t cry; she had to let him see she wasn’t a child throwing a tantrum, that this was important to her. She touched his arm. ‘Let’s just cool off and speak during the week.’

  ‘Laura,’ he began, then stopped. ‘Fine. You’re right.’

  Charles drove her to the station. In the golden summer dusk the Norfolk countryside was peaceful. A rabbit scuttled across the road, swallows darted in and out of the hedgerows. As they drove up to the station forecourt, Charles turned the engine off and said, ‘It’s a great success, your shop, Laura.’