It Takes Two

by Emily Harvale

  Jules seemed to need a moment to consider that.

  ‘No. No I wouldn’t.’

  ‘So why do you need to end your relationship? I know you’ll be spending more time with Bruce than you spend with me, but still, surely there’s a colour you both like? What about gold? Does Bruce hate gold?’

  ‘Not likely. He’s got a gold watch. He buys me gold jewellery. There’re gold-plated taps in his bathroom.’

  ‘Well, there you are then. Have more gold. And perhaps a paler shade of purple might not be such problem for him. Lilac, for example. That’s a sort of purple and it goes just as well with gold.’

  Jules visibly brightened. ‘You’re right. So what should I do? Should I see if he calls me? Or should I call him?’

  ‘Someone’s got to make the first move, so why not you? I’ll tell you exactly what you should do. You should phone him right now. Find out if he’s at home. And go straight round and tell him how much you love him. Then tell him that you want to choose the colours of your new house together and that you’ll be happy if you can have a couple of purple cushions, or something.’

  ‘Just cushions?’ Jules looked worried. ‘OK. I can do this. You’re right.’ She emptied her glass and held it out for a refill, pressing Bruce’s number on her phone with her other hand.

  ‘Bruce, where are you?’ she asked when he answered. ‘On your way here?’ She glanced at Ali. ‘Yes. I love you too.’ Her anxious look turned into a smile. ‘I’m sorry, too. I’ll see you very soon.’

  Ali stood up. ‘I think that’s my cue to leave.’

  Jules rang off and jumped to her feet, throwing her arms around Ali. ‘You’re the best friend in the world. Oh God. I haven’t asked about your mum. Or Aidan. Or anything. Is everything OK?’

  Ali kissed Jules on the cheek. ‘Everything is fine,’ she lied. ‘Call me tomorrow and tell me how it went.’

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Simon was clearly avoiding Ali. All her calls went to voicemail and her texts went unanswered. He wouldn’t even open the front door to her, no matter how hard she knocked or how long she kept her finger pressed on the doorbell. He hadn’t responded to the note she had slipped through his letterbox, asking him to call her as soon as he could, and all her emails were returned marked ‘Simon Hart is away from his desk at present but will respond to emails on his return.’ He hadn’t even turned up at the centre to help out, as he always did in the holidays, but Grace said that she had spoken to him and he had said he would be away for a few days.

  The man was definitely a jerk. How could anyone tell someone that they love them, kiss them so passionately that they nearly blow that person’s mind and then disappear as if in a puff of smoke? It didn’t make any sense. But then nothing about this situation made any sense. At least not to Ali.

  Almost two weeks had passed since he’d kissed her, and no matter what she did, or where she went, she couldn’t get the twerp out of her thoughts. Even Aidan’s continued flirting wasn’t having any effect. He kept buzzing around her like that damned bee. If only she could swat him away so easily. Mind you, she wouldn’t want him to turn on her and bite her on her neck, or anywhere else for that matter, so it was probably just as well.

  The first few days, Aidan had simply phoned to try and fix another date, but Ali’s various excuses were obviously wearing thin. By the end of that week, his requests were made in person, accompanied by flowers, chocolates, a bottle of champagne. At the start of the second week, he had upped his game. He brought her a very pretty necklace with, curiously enough, a black and gold metallic bumblebee charm attached. She had accepted the flowers graciously, and shared the chocolates and champagne with the staff, but she had to decline the lovely necklace, using as an excuse, that sadly, she was allergic to costume jewellery.

  ‘I’m beginning to think you’re trying to send me a message,’ Aidan said, still holding the necklace out to her in its beautiful pale blue box. ‘And it isn’t costume jewellery. The chain is gold, and the bee is gold and jet.’

  ‘Gold?’ Ali swallowed hard and began rearranging papers on her desk. ‘Then I definitely can’t accept it.’

  ‘Why not?’ His tone indicated his displeasure.

  ‘Because we don’t have that sort of relationship.’

  ‘We could have. We should have. The third attempt, remember? Nothing’s changed on my part. Has something changed on yours?’

  How could she tell him that there was a very strong possibility that she had fallen in love with her best friend? Was that completely true? Had she always been a little in love with Simon without recognising it as that sort of love?

  ‘There’s been a lot going on. I haven’t really had time to think about it. This week’s been busy here and Sim… I mean … we’re short-staffed because one of our volunteers has let us down. Plus, I’m helping Jules re-plan her wedding. She’s no longer having purple and gold, but gold and white instead. Everything’s got to be cancelled and reordered. And then there’s Bonnie and Bertie’s wedding to arrange. That’s taking up a lot more of my time than I anticipated.’

  ‘Bonnie and Bertie?’

  ‘Gertie’s dogs.’

  Aidan rolled his eyes. ‘Surely Tabitha could help with that? Now that she and Tom have reconciled and have both resigned from their jobs – which still amazes me, I have to say. She must have plenty of free time on her hands to assist with her mother’s ridiculous whims.’

  Ali glowered at him. ‘They aren’t ridiculous. Bonnie and Bertie mean a great deal to all of us. We’re all looking forward to the wedding this weekend, especially as it’s also Mum and Dad’s wedding anniversary, and they’re having a party at the house with marquees in the garden. Mum’s busy organising that, which is something else I’m helping with, and I’m thrilled to bits, of course. Sunday is going to be a truly wonderful day. We’re starting off at nine, with a wedding breakfast for Bonnie and Bertie, at Josie’s.’

  ‘That American diner on the hill?’

  ‘Yes. Dogs are allowed on the decking and the forecast for the weekend is glorious weather and soaring temperatures. You can come if you want. Everyone’s invited.’

  Why had she said that? Did she want him there? What if Simon showed up? Now she was being ridiculous. Simon was avoiding her, so he would hardly want to attend Bonnie and Bertie’s wedding breakfast, or her mum and dad’s anniversary party, even though he had been invited to both. She had hand delivered the invitations herself although she had had to put them through the letterbox as he wasn’t at home, according to Grace.

  ‘To a dogs’ wedding breakfast?’ Aidan’s scowl suddenly became a smile. ‘That actually sounds like fun. I’d love to come. Does the invitation extend to your parents’ party too?’

  Ali nodded. What else could she do?

  ‘Great. Then I’ll leave you in peace because you’re obviously very busy. And I’ll see you on Sunday morning, bright and early. Hopefully, wearing this. And later, hopefully wearing nothing else, but this.’ He winked at her and placed the pale blue box on the pile of papers in front of her.

  ‘Aidan, I can’t. I can’t accept this.’

  He smiled and walked away. ‘You can. And you will.’

  She watched him go, closed the lid of the box and put it to one side. ‘I damn well won’t, you know.’

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Ali leant back in the purple chair as Daisy slathered her hair in shampoo and Jules put the finishing touches to Sasha’s wash and blow-dry.

  ‘Now if you hate it, I can change you back to blonde.’ Jules said, directing her comment to Ali.

  ‘No. That previous colour made me realise, I can be any colour I want. And now I want to be ginger, with gold and purple highlights. And we need to try out the colour in plenty of time, now that you’ve brought your wedding forward to September.’

  ‘We’re going to go to church more often,’ Jules said. ‘Bruce and I discussed it. At least four times a year now, instead of just Christmas Eve. That vicar really is
lovely, and so helpful, too. And we were lucky to get the cancellation. I wonder what that couple rowed about to make them break up. I hope they sort it out and get back together. But they can’t have their wedding date back if they do.’

  ‘I love the new invitations,’ Sasha said. ‘That white and gold with the one purple flower embossed through the middle of it, is really beautiful.’

  Jules smiled. ‘And I have to admit that the white and gold wedding dress, with the purple sash and the purple and orange bouquet looks far more beautiful than the purple and gold dress did. My flat even looks better since Bruce painted three of the walls pale lilac, and this salon looks so much brighter now that I’ve replaced the wallpaper with white and gold. I’ve had lots of positive feedback from my clients too.’

  ‘Everything seems to be working out wonderfully, doesn’t it?’ Sasha said as Ali got up from the purple chair at the basin and joined them at the row of once purple chairs, now replaced by white imitation leather ones, in front of the wall of mirrors. ‘Your parents are like newlyweds. Jules has, thankfully, let go of her obsession with purple and become much more light-hearted in the process.’

  ‘Oi! I was always light-hearted. And I still love purple. It’s just that I now love some other colours too.’

  Sasha grinned. ‘And you bringing your wedding date forward when you heard of the cancellation worked out brilliantly for me and John. Neither of us wanted to wait until next year, and December suits us perfectly.’

  Jules grabbed her handheld mirror and held it behind Sasha’s head, to enable Sasha to see her hair in the reflection. ‘I can’t wait until Bonnie and Bertie’s wedding tomorrow.’ She glanced at Ali. ‘Have you decided what you’re wearing?’

  Ali shrugged, as Daisy patted her hair dry with a towel. ‘Not yet. I bought a gorgeous pale blue dress via the internet a couple of weeks ago. It’s got thin navy-blue straps, a low-cut – but not too low – navy trimmed, snug fitting bodice, and a pale blue flowing skirt with a navy, gossamer, petticoat-thing beneath. I love it. The problem is my pale blue sandals will kill me if I wear them for several hours again, and my navy-blue sandals are equally as high. But low-heeled sandals don’t do the dress justice, so I’m not sure what to do.’

  ‘Simple,’ Sasha said. ‘Wear the navy-blue ones, and get Simon to give you a piggyback everywhere.’

  Ali frowned at her. ‘I don’t think Simon’s coming. I haven’t heard a word from him since he kissed me and ran off.’

  ‘Simon kissed you?’ Daisy asked, in a dreamlike manner. ‘You’re so lucky. Simon Hart is gorgeous.’

  ‘You fancy Simon?’

  Daisy nodded and Sasha and Jules tutted.

  ‘Everyone fancies Simon,’ Sasha said. ‘Everyone except you, that is. Although since he kissed you, you seem to have changed your tune. I couldn’t believe that when you told us.’

  ‘I could,’ Jules said. ‘And it’s about bloody time. Although why the stupid twit then went away on holiday is beyond me.’

  ‘Did he go away?’ Daisy asked. ‘Only if he did, he’s back. I saw him less than an hour ago. He was talking to your dad, Ali.’

  The door of the salon burst open and Sheila Clutterdrew headed straight for them like a ballistic missile. ‘Oh my goodness. Have you heard the news? I can’t believe it. I phoned my sister right away. It’s a miracle. We’re saved. You must tell Ali. Oh! You’re here. You must be delighted. And your staff. It’s wonderful. Simply wonderful. Of course, it isn’t over yet. But it will be. They haven’t got a leg to stand on. I must say Jules, I love what you’ve done with the salon. The colours are simply beautiful. Must run. Got to spread the word.’

  ‘Er, Sheila, babe,’ Jules said, in a slightly bored tone. ‘You haven’t told us the news.’

  ‘Haven’t I? Oh dear.’

  ‘Daisy. Would you open a bottle of wine, please?’ Jules asked. ‘I’m sure Sheila has time for a glass, and any excuse is good enough for us.’

  ‘That be wonderful, dear,’ Sheila said, plonking herself down in a chair and smiling.

  ‘The news, Sheila?’ Jules added.

  ‘Oh yes. The news. There’s been opposition to that pre-planning application thing I told you about. And not just from us. All sorts of organisations are involved. Daphne, from the local paper told me. You know that little copse the other side of Josie’s diner where some of the trees go down to the river? Ancient woodland, apparently. Protected. Right where they want their road to go. And that’s not all. They don’t even own all the land. Landlocked or something. There’s an area of land all around the centre which isn’t owned by them. There’s a right of way, but it’s only granted to the centre on condition it stays as it is. They can’t develop it. Not without that land. Unless they bring everyone in by boat.’ Sheila waved a piece of paper she had been holding. ‘I’ve written it down. Didn’t want to get it wrong.’

  Ali, Jules, Sasha and Daisy all stared from one to the other and back at Sheila, as Daisy handed around the glasses of wine.

  ‘So, what you’re telling us,’ Ali said, taking hers, ‘is that the centre has to remain a water sports centre, otherwise the right of way lapses? But surely they could buy that land?’

  ‘Tried to. The owners won’t sell. The solicitors were negligent. Wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. They should have bought that land when they bought the centre, but someone made a mistake.’ Sheila gulped down her wine. ‘A body needed that. Bless you, Jules. Must run. More people to tell. See you at the wedding breakfast tomorrow.’ She struggled out of the chair and waddled out of the salon, waving as she did so.

  ‘Well, babe,’ Jules said, knocking back her wine. ‘Aidan’s not going to be in a good mood tomorrow, is he? Although as he told you it was all a mistake in the first place, perhaps it won’t make any difference.’

  ‘Mistake, my arse,’ Sasha said. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I don’t believe it for a minute. I never did. Men like the Rourkes don’t buy water sports centres like ours unless they want to turn them into posh clubs, or redevelop the land they’re on. There’s obviously more money in redevelopment, but if they can’t do that, the posh club will have to do.’

  ‘I hope not,’ Ali said. ‘I couldn’t bear that. Assuming I’d still have a job. I know the centre needs to be more profitable, but people love it the way it is. Schools and children’s groups can’t afford extortionate fees. I hope there’s something we can do to stop it. If only Mum and Dad were millionaires.’

  ‘We could all club together,’ Jules said. ‘You know, like those co-operative thingies. I’ve read about them. All the locals get together and buy whatever it is they want to save.’

  Sasha shook her head. ‘I don’t think anyone around here has got enough money to buy something owned by the Rourkes. I’m sure they got the centre for a song, but I bet it’ll need a full-blown opera to buy it from them.’

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Simon may be back – and according to Daisy, he was – but he still wasn’t taking Ali’s calls. Or answering her texts. And he hadn’t opened the door last night when she had gone to his house after leaving Shimmering Scissors Hair and Beauty. She was helping her mum all evening, so she couldn’t go around again, but the five text messages and two voicemails she had left had all met with the same response. Silence.

  At least she would be seeing him at the wedding breakfast, the church and her parents’ garden party, because according to her mum and Gertie, Simon had responded to all three invitations in the affirmative. He had even apologised for his late response, using the excuse of a few days away. That had annoyed her all the more. A few days, indeed. Almost two weeks, more like.

  Ali finished helping Gertie put Bonnie’s dress on, easing her tiny paws into the satin and lace sleeves. The dear little dog actually seemed as excited as any bride might be on their wedding day.

  Excited? What was she thinking? What was so exciting about getting married, for goodness sake? When so many marriages ended in divorce, statistically speaking,
who would want to take a chance on that?

  Her mum would. She was even talking about her and Tom renewing their vows. And Sasha would. She was so excited, that she had jumped at the chance of taking the wedding date Jules and Bruce had vacated. And Jules would, obviously. Not only had she brought the wedding forward, she had even changed the colour scheme to please her fiancé, Bruce. Even little Bonnie here, was keen.

  Was Ali the only person with an aversion to marriage? And did she even really feel that way? Last night she had a dream that today was her wedding breakfast. Hers and Simon’s. How ridiculous was that? But he had said he loved her. And then he disappeared for almost two weeks without a word. Not one word. Let alone those three little words that always meant so much.

  ‘The car’s here, my angel.’ Gertie adjusted her hat and smiled at Ali. ‘You make a beautiful bridesmaid. Or dogsmaid, should that be? Especially with your new hair colour. I thought the last colour suited you, but the ginger, purple and gold really bring out the colour of your eyes. I hope someone appreciates it. Now let’s get on. You carry Bonnie in her wedding basket. I’ll carry Bertie in his.’

  Even this didn’t seem crazy any more, and Ali did as Gertie asked, linking her arm through Gertie’s and walking together towards the car. The chauffeur of the limousine helped them in and didn’t bat an eyelid at his unusually dressed passengers. He had probably seen it all before. They arrived at Josie’s within minutes and it was a sight to behold. There was bunting, balloons, and congratulatory banners everywhere she looked. Guests already mingled inside, dressed in finery just as they would when attending any wedding. Some were outside on the deck where gentle breezes lifted the hems of women’s skirts and ruffled the men’s hair.

  ‘I think we’re going to have a wonderful day, don’t you, Ali-ba-ba?’

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Ali replied, getting out of the car and helping her gran, as the chauffeur held the baskets containing Bonnie and Bertie. ‘The weather’s perfect. The decorations are superb. We know the food will be excellent. The guests have all arrived and are looking happy. There’s birdsong and music and laughter in the air. What more could any bride want on her wedding day?’