Before Edie could roll it up, hand it back and advise the doorman about where to forcibly insert it into Jack, she consulted her feelings.
This wasn’t just about what he wanted. Not if she didn’t let it be: it could be the rudest awakening Jack Marshall was ever likely to have. She’d emailed Martha to thank her for her vote with Richard, and Martha had concluded: ‘Jack will get his comeuppance one day.’ Was this the day?
It was very difficult to get a moment alone with Elliot as the man of the hour. The floor downstairs had been cleared into a dance floor and couples were waltzing around to something slow.
Pity about the tricky timing. How did she speak to Elliot without being overheard? Edie vacillated for some minutes, then made an impulsive decision, possibly partly powered by Prosecco. She wove her way over to Elliot, who immediately broke from the group he was with.
‘I’m so sorry, are you OK? Let me get you another drink.’ He leaned in. ‘Another hour and then we’ll go somewhere, just the two of us, OK?’
Edie took him by the hand. ‘Can we dance?’
‘Uh …?’ Elliot let himself be swung into a close hold with Edie, her hand on his shoulder. She sensed many pairs of eyes on them. For a second, she almost abandoned her plan to stay like this with him, pressed together …
Edie leaned in close.
‘Elliot, something’s come up,’ she whispered. ‘I have to sort it out. Can you do without me for that hour? I’ll be back before you notice.’
‘What is it?’
‘Jack’s turned up and wants to have it out about the wedding. I want to say my opinions into his face.’
Elliot pulled back, their faces inches apart.
‘“Jack”?’
‘The groom. From the wedding.’
Elliot’s brow creased.
‘What? What the hell are you seeing him for?’
Edie hushed him, though she couldn’t really fault him for this response.
‘He says he wants to explain himself to me once and for all.’
They resumed the dance hold and Elliot murmured in her ear.
‘Let me break it to you that’s only half of his agenda, at most. Isn’t he married?’
‘They’ve split up.’
‘Oh my God, he’s single! Better and better. You do realise, he might, you know, have an interest in unburdening himself with you in more than one way?’ Elliot was hissing now.
He glanced around to make sure they weren’t being overheard and adjusted his grip on Edie.
‘If he tries anything, I’ll knee him in the goolies. Are you really not OK with this?’ she said.
‘Er, not really, Edie, no.’
‘You can’t think there’s anything between us? If I don’t see him, I’m letting him off the hook. Honestly, I really need to be able to say my piece to his face. I promise you that my only intention here is an interrogation and much swearing.’
‘From where I’m standing, it’s not quite that simple. You didn’t go to his wedding planning to get off with him, I’m guessing.’
‘That was then! This is my one chance to hold him to account for what he did to me.’
‘If it’s nothing romantic, can I come along?’
Edie laughed even though Elliot was clearly not joking. She’d not experienced Elliot quite this pugilistic since their very first meeting. Erk, when he’d split up with Heather, come to think of it.
‘I’d bloody love to see his face if you did. Sadly, this is something I have to do on my own.’
Elliot pulled Edie closer as his voice in her ear became more menacing.
‘So to recap: you’re running off from our first date for this, and it has to be the two of you, no third wheels. It’s lucky I’m not the jealous type. Oh wait, just checked. I am. As of now.’
Edie tried not to smile because having Elliot like this was also pretty great. A guilty pleasure, after the pain of seeing him with Greta.
‘… Where are you going with him? Or is that a secret? I warn you there’s a right answer and a wrong answer to this.’
‘Delilah’s? The deli with the bar, upstairs on Victoria Street. Elliot, it’s not candlelight and violins. You honestly have no need to be worried.’
‘Imagine right now that Heather’s waltzed back into town and I’ve dropped everything to see her, to clear up our unfinished business. And sorry, Edie, it’s not romantic but it’s terribly private, you can’t come.’
Edie thought about that. ‘I’d be well mad.’
‘Yeah trust me, I’m not thrilled. I’d go so far as to call myself vexed.’
‘Elliot,’ Edie paused, got as close as she could to his ear and whispered: ‘I’m in love with you.’
A nerve-wracking pause where Elliot said nothing, and when she looked, he was glowering at her. Edie’s heart started thudding. Wrong thing to say? Too soon? Too not reciprocated? Oh, God …
The song finished and Elliot gave her a hug.
‘Edie, don’t casually tell me you bloody love me in a conversation where I’m getting angry about that tosspot, to win favour and put me on the back foot and make it difficult for me to object about something I have every right to question.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’m in love with you too. See you in an hour or there will be hell to pay.’ He swung in and kissed her hard on the mouth, in front of everyone, then stalked off back into the hordes, leaving Edie with cartoon birds circling round her head.
71
The café-bar Delilah was in an old banking hall, with high ceilings and decorative plasterwork. Edie guessed Jack chose it because it was hard to mistake for anywhere you’d have a date: raucous with ladies who lunched, or, at this time of night, cackled over rosé with their equally dolled-up friends. A place where well-to-do kids at the university took their well-to-do parents, and let them pay.
When Edie reached the top of the stairs, she saw Jack at a table at the far end.
He was in a pink shirt, very narrow grey flannel trousers and brown brogues. It wasn’t a bad outfit, exactly, but showy in a way that wasn’t Edie’s taste, sort of upmarket man-at-Jack-Wills. With a small jolt, Edie realised she’d very rarely seen Jack in his civvies. A small thing, but a reminder of how little she actually knew him.
‘I got you a Bellini,’ he said, winningly. ‘I hope that’s OK.’
Edie nodded and thought to herself: I won’t be drinking the Kool Aid.
‘You look really well,’ he said, with a glance at her dress. ‘What was the event, something to do with the TV show the actor was in? Is he back in La La Land now?’
‘I’ve only got half an hour,’ Edie said, terse, ignoring him. ‘Why did you go to my house?’
‘You weren’t answering my calls.’ Jack pushed at the strawberry bobbing in his drink. ‘Which I completely understand, by the way. I thought I had to make a gesture. Don’t blame your marvellous father, I did press him quite hard,’ Jack said, and Edie boiled. She suspected she was supposed to be awed at the effort.
‘What happened to little E.T. then? Scrapping in the street with celebrities now? That photo of you giving someone the Vs was priceless.’
‘That wasn’t what it looked like,’ Edie said, to shut it down fast. ‘Nothing reported about it was true.’
‘Hah, yes,’ said Jack, joining in with a little too much enthusiasm. ‘He’s probably moved on to a Doctor Who assistant by now, or a member of The Saturdays. Sounds like it’s a revolving door.’
She could see he thought he was being incredibly fleet-footed when actually Edie heard a lumpen insult. She didn’t bother to pick him up on it: she didn’t care enough to need his no no no I just meant celebrities are fickle denial.
There was something deeper in it than the simple bad manners of implying she wasn’t enough for Elliot, however.
Jack didn’t respect her. How had she never noticed that before? He was intrigued by her, entertained by her, attracted, sure. But no one who’s playing you and duping you truly respects you, Edi
e thought, because it presupposes they’re smarter than you. She would remember that, in future.
‘What did you want to say?’ Edie said.
‘Ah. Straight in, OK,’ Jack said, as if Edie was at fault for being too forthright. Clearly, she should’ve appeared to enjoy his jokes first.
‘I wanted to give you a proper apology, in person, for the wedding. I unleashed the hounds of hell on both of us and it was a nightmare. I’m so sorry.’
‘You didn’t unleash them on yourself, did you?’ Edie said. ‘I missed the Facebook pages about you?’
‘Hah, no, I didn’t have that. But I had plenty. Trust me, you’ve never seen Charlie’s dad in full flow. He has hunting rifles, E.T., he goes clay pigeon shooting. I thought I was in for a knee-capping.’
‘Jack …’ Edie paused, she had to judge this right. If she lost her rag too early, it was showing her hand. ‘Are you asking me to feel sorry for you?’
‘No! God, no.’
‘Why did you do what you did?’
Jack sipped his drink. Edie studied his face and saw that there was nothing there. She felt nothing. She and Jack had simply fitted each other’s needs. He wanted a woman to fall in love with him. She’d wanted to fall in love with someone.
‘I’ve asked myself that a million times. The bottom line is … this is embarrassing to say …’
Here we go, Edie thought, here it comes.
‘I’m utterly smitten with you, Edie. Always was. My stupidity was ploughing on and marrying Charlie when I knew what my feelings were.’
He paused and Edie waited for it. The killer line he’d have worked out in advance.
‘I turned round, you know, during the vows and saw you. You weren’t looking at me, you were messing with Louis’s buttonhole. And it hit me, right then. That’s the girl I should be marrying today. When I followed you into the garden, I was drunk, I was all over the place. In a split second, I had to do what I’d wanted to do since the first moment I met you.’
Jack finished his speech, slightly flushed. She had no doubt he meant it, for as long as he was saying it. Edie left a short silence.
‘You know how it looks though? You’ve split up with your wife a second time, and you turn up here, hoping to win me as a consolation prize?’
Jack shook his head emphatically.
‘Look, I’m not proud of going back to Charlie, but she was a wreck, her parents practically had me at gunpoint, as I said. I’d ruined her special day, I felt I owed it to her. It quickly became obvious it was never going to work.’
‘Well, that, and I gave your wife an email from another woman you’d mucked around.’
‘What?’ Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Who? When?’
Edie considered trying to get to the bottom of whether Jack was feigning ignorance, and decided she didn’t care. Perhaps Charlotte hadn’t wanted him to know Edie had helped her come to her decision. Because she didn’t doubt it was Charlotte’s decision to kick him out.
‘There’s a Maya Angelou quote that reminds me of you, Jack,’ Edie said. Jack did a tiny ‘oh really’ polite expression with a nod, a look that settled as vanity. He was the kind of man that women had literary quotes for. Of course he was.
‘It’s: “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” That was my problem with you. You were messaging me and flirting behind your girlfriend’s back. What kind of man does that? I should’ve believed you were the man you showed me you were that first moment, but I didn’t. I desperately wanted you to be someone else. The person I built up in my mind. I let you treat me badly, again and again. And because I refused to believe who you were, who you showed me you were, I ended up in that position at the wedding.’
‘Edie,’ Jack’s face was a performance of innocent exasperation, ‘it wasn’t calculated. At all.’
‘I believe that,’ Edie nodded, ‘You didn’t rub your hands together and say, “I know what I’ll do to that girl with the dark hair.” You followed your instincts, without thinking about it much. And your instincts are bad and selfish. You deliberately didn’t think, because it suited you not to look at what you were doing. From where I’m sitting, there’s not much difference in you intending it, or not. Same effect on me.’
Edie could see Jack’s mounting surprise at this chilly reception. She could also see him recalibrating, becoming sharper in the face of her anger. He thrived in adversity. Adapt to survive.
‘You have every right to be pissed off at me, I’m not denying that,’ Jack said. ‘But if I’d been a proper bastard I’d have been trying to get off with you behind Charlie’s back. I didn’t want an affair. It wasn’t fair, I wasn’t going to cheat.’
‘Noble,’ Edie said, with a small smile. ‘You’re assuming I’d have gone along with that?’
‘What?’
‘You’re assuming I’d have slept with you on those terms?’
‘No! I was just thinking out loud, from my point of view … Oh God. I’m doing a Strictly Come Dancing routine across landmines here, aren’t I?’
Jack gave her a small Hey, I’m funny, we laugh at the same things though, right? smile and Edie had a moment of authentic disgust at this man.
She’d been taken in by a mid-level-ability card sharp.
72
Jack might think he was whip smart, but he still hadn’t sussed that Edie had him sussed.
‘… That’s what I meant at the wedding about cowardice. I got swept along, I didn’t want to hurt Charlie …’ he continued. He seemed to think if he chose the right lament, Edie would suddenly crumble, right into his arms.
‘You didn’t want to hurt Charlotte, so you flirted with me and kissed me, on your wedding day?’
‘We were friends, there was no intention to flirt. We got on well. You know how it was, we sparked.’
‘I know you constantly told me one thing, and did another.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘You didn’t want to buy a house, you didn’t want to move out of London, didn’t believe in marriage …’
‘Eh? I was letting off steam, I can’t remember half the things we chatted about.’
‘And yet it all meant so much that you’re saying you’re in love with me?’
Jack, greatly to Edie’s pleasure, finally lost his temper a little. The mask slipped.
‘I don’t think I said love, did I?’ he said, with a note of disdain. Hah, gotcha.
Not so charming now.
‘Didn’t you?’ Edie said, with perfect indifference. ‘Oh, smitten.’
Jack boggled at her. Giving no fucks was a superpower.
Edie’s phone buzzed. A text from Elliot. She saw Jack see it arrive and try to read the name and she swiftly flipped her phone over. She could tell that he didn’t like that, a spoonful of his own medicine.
‘Look, I deserve this, I know I do. But you haven’t given me a completely easy ride. You used to tell me about your dates, to make me jealous …’
Low blow. She did. In the context of everything he did.
‘And I hadn’t told my new firm exactly why I left Ad Hoc. That Mail story did me no favours, but I didn’t complain.’
Edie frowned. ‘Hang on, if you hadn’t done what you did at the wedding, you wouldn’t have got a mention in that story. Ass-backwards logic.’
‘Edie. We could hash over who did what all evening.’ Jack leaned forward and fixed his eyes on hers. He put a hand, palm down on the table, that Edie was being invited to hold. ‘I’ve come here to say there’s nothing in the world I want more than to see if, despite everything, there’s as much here as I think there is. Look at this mess, what’s it telling us? That we want to be together, no matter what chaos it causes. E.T., I think we’re each other’s happy ending.’
Edie wrinkled her nose and was about to say both vomit, and hahaha ‘happy ending’, when a voice behind her cut across them.
‘Edie?’
Edie turned to see Elliot, hands thrust in coat pockets, glowering at Ja
ck.
Jack placed Elliot’s face, and went pale.
‘I texted you,’ Elliot addressed Edie, ‘to see if you were done? I thought I could walk you back to the party.’
He transferred his gaze to Jack again, who was paler still.
Edie opened her mouth to say – almost done – and then realised they were done. Completely done. She’d heard enough of Jack’s obfuscations and manipulations. And this was the ultimate farewell. Hollywood could not have scripted one better. There were practically fireworks spelling out Fuck You going off overhead, a marching band playing ‘You’re So Vain’ as soundtrack.
‘Yep, all done, thanks, Elliot,’ Edie said, standing up, adrenaline coursing in a warm river, almost making her tremble. Jack was open-mouthed at Edie, looking from her to Elliot and back again. Elliot held out his hand and she took it. He pulled her to his side, threw his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. It was petulant and territorial and Edie loved it.
In memory afterwards, Edie would imagine the café fell silent, although that might be due to how it felt right at that minute: the whole world was only the three of them, with Jack being served his arse on a plate with a sprig of parsley.
They turned and walked down the stairs. Goodbye, Jack Marshall, Edie thought. You’re already designing the story about how your last love left you for that famous actor. Everything’s material.
73
In the following weeks, Edie was asked by her friends and family ‘what it was like’ to be with Elliot, which was a strange question, really. As if she was knocking boots with an android, or a hologram, or someone who wasn’t a thirty-something man from the Midlands who put on costumes to earn his salary.
She knew the subtext was: ‘Don’t you have moments of complete cognitive dissonance that you’re only you, and you’re bedding Prince Wulfroarer, commander of the dwarven army of Hellebore and most fancied man in the kingdom?’ And the answer was she would have those moments, if she let herself. But she tried very hard not to, as if she did, she might ruin it. Edie didn’t stand back and admire Elliot from a distance; she stayed close, literally and figuratively, and concentrated on the fact the attraction seemed very mutual. She might not have dated a famous before, but she’d been with men, and his machinery was just male like any other’s. Edie could attest to that.
Who's That Girl? Page 37