Rules for Dating a Romantic Hero

by Evans, Harriet

  She walked and walked, down towards the river and the office. She didn’t cry, she just kept on walking. When she got to work, she swiped her pass across the gate and waited for the lifts. They were always slow and so, as she always did, she took out her phone as something to fiddle with.

  The photo of Nick on her phone screen was what set her off in the end, not the words of the text or what she’d heard Lara say. It was his face in the photo, arms waving madly at her on a boat in one of the channels that ran to the Norfolk coast. Nick, with his trousers rolled up, hair ruffled, holding on to a crab. Or rather the crab, pincers sunk into his finger, holding onto him.

  She remembered that day last summer. They had taken the boat out, spread a picnic rug on the beach, far away from anyone else at the edge of the wild shore, and they had made love in the sand. Afterwards, as she lay with her head on his chest, hearing his heart beating, Laura had felt completely at peace. She knew he was her home. She felt perhaps she’d never been closer to him than at that moment, their clothes ruffled, the warm sun beating down, the quiet distant crash of the sea. They ate cold ham with lots of mustard and thick bread, coleslaw and bottles of Coke. On the journey back they didn’t really speak, just sat quietly next to each other. And when the little boat reached the tiny harbour, the tinkling sound of the masts in the wind sounded like the delicate chimes of a music box. It felt as though they had been in a dream and were only just waking up.

  She knew now that it was true. It had all been a dream. And as she stared at the photo in the soulless glass lobby of her office, tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Rule Ten:

  If it’s really all over, at least you’ve learned something about … history, stately homes and antiques, right?

  The day only seemed to get worse. Rachel, Laura’s boss, was on maternity leave again and Laura and her colleague Nasrin were in charge. Since Nasrin preferred quizzes in Pick Me Up! and chats about what was happening with the Kardashians to actual work, the morning was trying. The afternoon was even more so, as Rachel rang, off her head from lack of sleep and in floods of tears about her husband Marcus and how useless he was being with the new baby. Since Laura had set them up in the first place, she felt one hundred per cent responsible, especially when Rachel finished by sobbing, ‘I honestly wish I’d never met him, Laura!’

  Then Casey called from Laura’s Place, saying the carpet fitters still hadn’t finished the trim and Mrs Wilson had tripped on the loose carpet at the back and twisted her ankle. Also, half the books they’d ordered hadn’t arrived from the wholesalers and the computer programme Laura had set up wasn’t working.

  ‘I’m trying my best,’ she said to Laura rather helplessly, ‘but I don’t think I’m experienced enough to deal with a lot of it. Are you coming up at the weekend?’

  Laura said slowly, ‘I wasn’t going to. But I can if you need me. Do you want me to come up?’

  Casey sounded relieved. ‘Yes. Yes I really do. Sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine, no problem.’

  ‘Great. We’ve made gingerbread and lemonade, like in the Maisy books,’ Casey added shyly. ‘It’s looking lovely here.’

  Laura couldn’t help wishing she was there, the cool country breeze wafting in from the street, children playing in the garden and drinking lemonade.

  ‘I’ll be up before lunch on Saturday,’ she said. ‘I’ll go over everything and then it’ll all be fine.’ Her throat tightened at the thought of this lovely place she’d helped make, and which she might never see again after the weekend.

  ‘There’s one other thing. Lady Rose was in here yesterday,’ Casey said, ‘with some business bloke. She said he was something to do with some foundation or other? She had a good look round and was asking all the children questions and the like. She told Brian she didn’t think he should be working with children too. He’s a bit upset about it. Said he was too old and he wouldn’t understand what they need.’

  Laura stabbed her pen gently onto her notepad. ‘She said what?’

  ‘Lady Rose asked to see the accounts too. I said there wasn’t much point as we’ve only been open ten days, but she said you’d told her it was OK. Something to do with the extra funding for the children’s centre. I think that’s why she’d brought this guy with her. He was wearing a suit and he kept taking notes. She said—’ Casey stopped. ‘Sorry, Laura. Should I not have let her?’

  ‘It’s fine.’ Laura tried to sound unruffled. ‘Don’t worry about it. If she comes back, tell her to give me a call, will you?’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Is Brian alright?’

  ‘Oh he’s fine. I told him not to get himself in a flap about it, you’d sort it out. So we’ll see you Saturday? Do hope you’re pleased with what we’ve done Laura.’

  Laura cleared her throat. ‘I’m sure I will be. Thanks, Casey.’

  As she put the phone down, she wondered, for the millionth time since Sunday, why Nick hadn’t noticed he’d sent the text to her and not Lara. It was easy to explain in part. Nick hated mobiles and could barely be persuaded to have one. His was a very big old Nokia, with typeface like a calculator. It sent texts and made calls and that was it. He stored numbers by first names, and she knew Lara and Laura would be right next to each other. He obviously hadn’t noticed that he’d revealed he was cheating to his own girlfriend. Or maybe he had and he just didn’t care.

  Laura tried to rein in her overactive imagination, but that evening, going home on another slow, crowded bus, she realised that if they split up, she wouldn’t be involved with the shop any more, presumably. Or would she? She wondered how soon Nick would propose to Lara, and with the clarity of the heartbroken she bet herself it would be within the year. She understood it now. All that talk to Rose had been true: he wanted to get married, just not to her. And when they were married, the new Lady Ranelagh wouldn’t want Laura popping up in the village saying, ‘Don’t mind me! I’m just his bitter ex-girlfriend who didn’t quite make the cut! Carry on. Would you like to buy a copy of The Gruffalo for your adorable children?’

  She stopped off at the corner shop and bought some beers and, when she reached the flat, rang the bell three times before letting herself in. This was the house code for ‘I’m back and I need some company’. Laura had instituted it as a response to Paddy’s assumption that the moment she got back from work she’d like nothing more than Paddy leaping around her telling her about his day and singing Elbow songs loudly while she tried to have a cup of tea and generally wind down.

  He appeared in the kitchen, worn green shirt stained with biro, and looked at her warily.

  ‘Hello there.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry for being such a cow today,’ Laura said. She put the six-pack of bottles down on the kitchen table with a thud. ‘Nick is cheating on me. He texted me instead of some other girl by mistake, and today I walked past his place in the centre of town and he was coming out of the flat with an ex of his called Lara and I heard them talking. So everything’s crap, basically.’ She cracked open one of the bottles with her hand and the top flew up into the air. ‘Cheers.’

  Paddy looked at her, astounded. ‘Jesus, Laura.’

  ‘Yeah.’ She drank deeply.

  ‘Are you sure? I mean, I don’t not believe you, but Nick, man! Nick! He’s mad about you. He loves you like … well, I’ve never seen anyone like that. He looks at you like you’re saving him from drowning.’

  Laura glanced away, so he couldn’t see the tears that sprang into her eyes. ‘That’s lovely, Pads.’ She handed him a beer. ‘I think he used to, maybe. Not any more.’

  ‘No, no,’ Paddy said. ‘Laura, I’m sure you’ve got this wrong. Let me see the text.’

  Laura showed him the phone and he read it. Then he took a long swig of beer. ‘Right. I see what you mean.’

  She gave a weak grin. ‘Thanks, man. I was hoping you’d tell me I was mad.’

  As Laura was holding the phone, it started to ring.

  ‘It’s him!’ Paddy screame
d. They looked at each other in total panic. Paddy even glanced anxiously out of the window, as if Nick might be standing outside.

  Laura smiled then – it was so silly – and answered the phone.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi. Laura. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine. OK. Are you in London?’ she said, though she knew the answer.

  There was a silence. ‘No. Why? I’m with Charles. We’re just going over a few things. Can you talk?’

  ‘Sure, I can talk.’

  Paddy began nervously banging cupboards, looking for some crisps.

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m in the kitchen with Paddy. Why?’

  ‘Oh. Right. This is – well, can you go somewhere more private? There’s something we really need to discuss.’

  Was he going to dump her over the phone? He wouldn’t do that, would he?

  ‘I’m fine. I said I can talk, I didn’t say for long. What’s up?’

  She could hear him sigh. ‘OK. I wondered if you were coming up this weekend? I really think we need to sit down and go over some … things.’

  She managed to say, ‘I agree.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes, the shop especially.’

  ‘That’s it.’ He sounded relieved.

  ‘Rose was there yesterday, looking round with someone. She asked to see the accounts. Do you know anything about it?’

  ‘No. Was it to do with the funding? That might be why.’

  ‘She’s not on the board of the Needham Trust, Nick. Why does she need to go poking round in my business?’

  ‘I suppose she thinks—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘What were you going to say?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  She didn’t care how ugly or angry her voice sounded. She wanted him to side with his family and reject her, to make this easier. ‘Go on. Tell me. You think she thinks it is her business.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Tell her to back off! She upset Casey. She told Brian he was too old to be working with children – I mean, what does that mean? Why can’t she just go back to her life and stop telling us how to run things?’

  There was a pause. ‘I thought you didn’t care about how we run the estate,’ he said.

  Laura faltered. ‘I do when it’s my shop and my arse on the line.’

  ‘Things have never been so tough here. She … she’s just trying to help.’

  ‘Things are tough for everyone, Nick.’

  Nick’s voice was steely. ‘Five hundred people work here in the summer, Laura. I’m the biggest employer in the area. You don’t think I’m aware of that? Rose will calm down, but not at the moment. Spare me your – oh, never mind.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘Look, please come down this weekend. I really do need to see you.’

  Something about the way he said it was so final.

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I’ll come up on Saturday morning. I’ve said I’ll be at the shop by lunchtime.’

  ‘Saturday afternoon would be best. I have to help with the maze, we’re trimming the hedge all day.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘I’m the only one who knows the way out.’

  Ridiculous, crazy place. A ball of laughter that threatened to turn into a sob bubbled up inside her. ‘Fine.’

  ‘That’s – that’s great. Sure, just coming,’ he called to someone else. ‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘We’ve got some builders in – work upstairs that needs doing. I hope it’s not too disruptive when you get here. If you can’t find me, ask Mrs Simmons or Clive to show you—’

  ‘Nick, I know what to do,’ she said, aware that her voice was rising. Paddy stared at her, his eyes wide. ‘See you then.’ Laura put the phone down. She steadied her hand on the kitchen counter. ‘It’s totally phase two up there. Out with the old. Oh, Paddy.’ She wiped a tear away from her cheek. ‘It’s happening, isn’t it? I’m being pathetic. I just didn’t think it’d be like this. I suppose I always thought … Well, I always thought we’d make it.’

  ‘This is terrible,’ said Paddy, in a hollow voice. ‘Laura, I’m so sorry.’

  Laura sat down at the table again and put her head in her hands. She stared at the patterns in the wood, the lines of the grain flowing under her fingers. This was it. It really was going to happen, and had she made it happen? The question was, would she try and fight him? Tell him they should give it another go?

  It sounded ridiculous to even think it. She knew the answer.

  Behind her, Paddy cleared his throat. ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Sure.’ She drank the rest of her beer.

  ‘What you said about me, this morning. You said I was too full-on, too weird with girls, that I was too open with them.’

  ‘That’s not a question.’ Laura blew her nose. ‘I might find some wine.’

  Paddy ignored this. ‘Because, you know, I think if you love someone, or you think you might love them, you should definitely go for it first and worry about all the small, silly stuff that gets in the way later. And it might just sort itself out. So here’s my question. Don’t you? Think that?’

  Laura looked in the fridge, bringing out a bottle of rosé. ‘I know what you’re getting at. This isn’t small silly stuff, though, Paddy. It’s everything.’

  Paddy shook his head. ‘But it’s not, though. I think your trouble is you’re still convinced you’re this stupid girl who doesn’t know her own mind. That you’re the person you used to be, obsessed with some romantic dream.’

  ‘Harsh,’ Laura said, but she knew he was being serious. She bit her lip. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘What are you so afraid of?’ Paddy pushed the beer towards her.

  Laura shrugged. ‘I can’t say. It sounds stupid.’

  ‘Come on. What is it?’

  Laura found it hard to speak. She poured herself a glass of wine and drank most of it, all without looking at Paddy. Her heart was thumping in her mouth.

  ‘Um – I suppose I don’t want things to change.’ She said it in a small voice. ‘I don’t want him to realise I’m not good enough for him. Nick needs someone so much, and I can’t … I can’t be that person. And I’m also scared I won’t be good enough for him. That I’ll let him down. And Dad, and Mum. So maybe it’s easier to just be here with you, having a drink. Two drinks.’

  Paddy thumped the table so hard Laura jumped. ‘There! There you go!’

  ‘Oh shut up,’ Laura said.

  ‘I mean it. I’m totally right. Laura, in ten years’ time do you really think the ideal dream would be you and me sitting at this table drinking beers? ’Cos I think that’d be pretty tragic. Things change. It’s scary because you don’t recognise your new life for a bit, but then you get used to it. You think it’s the house and the title and all of that, but it’s not. And your mum and dad don’t care, they’re so proud of you already, can’t you see that? Everyone is, you lunatic.’ Paddy stood up, hugging himself. ‘I’m bloody brilliant. It’s not anyone else, it’s you. You’re the one creating all these obstacles. Because you don’t recognise your life, and you’re afraid of what you see, and you shouldn’t be.’

  ‘Where on earth did you get all that from?’ Laura asked.

  ‘The Sound of Music was on TV last Sunday. I’ve never seen it the whole way through.’

  ‘You’ve never seen The Sound of Music the whole way through?!’ Laura was astonished. ‘I don’t even know what to say to that, Paddy. How have you managed to know me thirty years and not seen it?’

  ‘Dunno.’ Paddy opened a packet of crisps. ‘You go on about stuff too much sometimes. But anyway, that’s what the old bird says to Maria before she starts singing “Climb Ev’ry Mountain”. Think about it, Laura.’

  Laura drank a large gulp of rosé. ‘But you’re forgetting something.’

  ‘What?’

  She smiled. ‘Lara. Explain that one away.’

  ‘Oh.’ Paddy looked stumped. He sat back down again. ‘Yeah. I forgot about her. Sorry.
’

  Rule Eleven:

  Break-ups should never be conducted in a setting that could also be used in a BBC costume drama.

  Laura fixed the bookshop’s computer programme. She rang the wholesalers and yelled at them. She even got down on her knees and fitted the metal trim to the carpet. Not for nothing had George Foster instilled his children with a love of DIY and Robert Dyas. ‘Where are you off to now, Laura?’ Casey asked her when they’d finished going over the books.

  ‘Up to the house,’ Laura said.

  Casey smiled shyly. ‘Of course! You’ll see his … Nick. Oh, that’s lovely.’

  You’re what? Twenty-eight? And your husband left you and your two kids for a barmaid and your boyfriend’s just dumped you, yet you’re still excited about the girl having the Cinderella romance with the man with the title and the big house. Oh ladies, nothing’s going to change while we’re still obsessed with that.

  Laura didn’t say this, obviously. Instead, she nodded. ‘Thanks a lot, Casey,’ she said, patting her arm. ‘You’re doing an amazing job,’ and she stumbled out before Casey saw the tears in her eyes. She didn’t look back.

  It was nearly a mile from the gates to Chartley Hall and, knowing she’d probably be driving straight back again afterwards, Laura decided to stretch her legs and walk up to the house. As she cut through the meadows and passed into the formal estate she breathed in. The scent from the wild roses and honeysuckle tangled in the hedgerows seemed to hang heavy in the air. Before her the dark green row of oak trees were totally still.

  Chartley Hall shone golden in the waning sun. The windows glittered, the lead glass like diamonds catching the light. The rounded towers with their black iron weather vanes each seemed to tear a hole in the blue sky. Laura stopped and stared, as though seeing it for the first time, not the last. It was beautiful.

  As she drew closer, she heard shouts from behind the house and the clank of builders’ ladders. Then one of the vast library windows on the first floor was flung open. The glass caught the sun, glinting with fire. Laura stood still in surprise. You didn’t just open the library windows. Its collection of books was priceless, the famous Hogarth Happy Marriage series of drawings was hung there and everything had to be kept at a certain temperature. But someone was swinging the window to and fro, like a maniac, catching the light. She had almost reached the great forecourt when the vast front door opened and Mrs Simmons, the new housekeeper, appeared. She welcomed Laura with a thin, nervous smile.