by Jade Beer
Thank God Betsy is off to meet Nat at Saks department store, ticking off one of those great Christmas-in-New-York moments. She needs to get off this downer and hang out with someone who will take her mind off the misery she’s wallowing in. As she’s being thrown all over the back of the yellow cab, she’s wondering whether Jacob is even still hers to lose. Maybe not. And how does that feel? The sweet memory of how it used to be with him seems too diluted now compared to the fix she’s craving from Dylan. But what if in two weeks that fizzles to nothing and there’s no Jacob to fall back on? Can she face the thought of being alone? No. Does she want to accept that she and Jacob are a failure together, to give up on them completely? No.
Another text from Dylan.
* * *
I was going to pretend I had a work question. But I don’t. I just can’t stop thinking about you. All of you. x
* * *
There is a large part of Betsy that wants to drive straight to the airport, fly home immediately to Dylan and reacquaint herself with the floor of his office. But then, she is supposed to be using this trip for some undistracted thinking time. And how can she do that with texts like this getting her all revved up? So much for him leaving her alone. The fact that Jacob is managing to do so is only making Betsy think about him more. She’s going to be home in less than twenty-four hours and she is still so torn, so far from making any sort of concrete decision.
‘Betsy!’
As her cab is pulling up, Nat is already waving at her from the pavement. ‘Over here!’ She is wedged between a swarm of jostling tourists, made wider by their huge padded winter coats. They’re all waving camera phones above their heads, desperately trying to capture a shot of whatever Christmas explosion is going off in Saks’ windows.
‘Hey, have you had a good day, Nat?’ Betsy is pleased to see she’s come alone. She’s not sure she can handle the embarrassment of seeing Ethan after her drunken display last night. Or the two of them flirting when she herself has no one to snuggle up to on this cold night away from home.
‘Yeah, it was amazing!’ Nat looks sensationally pleased with herself.
‘How amazing?’ Betsy’s guessing Nat didn’t just wander the mid-town streets, shopping for bargains like she’d planned to.
‘Ethan delivered breakfast to my room this morning, then got someone to cover his shift. I’ve only just got back out of bed!’
‘Bloody hell! You only met each other yesterday!’
Betsy and Nat link arms, laughing aloud, as they inch their way towards the front of the crowd.
‘When you know, you know! Honestly, I’ve never felt this way about a guy before. I can’t stop thinking about him, Betsy. And we’re going home so soon.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Much as she doesn’t want to be a total Debbie Downer, it’s hard to share Nat’s wild enthusiasm for the opposite sex right now.
‘Oh, God, sorry! That was totally insensitive of me.’ Nat pulls Betsy into a tight hug.
‘No, don’t worry. I got myself into this mess. I just wish to God I hadn’t sent that text to Mum last night, telling her I can’t marry Jacob.’ In that moment, it’s just all too much for Betsy. The happy families and couples crowding her, all celebrating the last few weeks before Christmas. The cheery Disney music filtering out of Saks. The completely over-the-top fairy-tale sets she can see in each of the store’s windows – every one displaying a cheerful version of life that is so far from her reality. As they nudge closer to the glass, she can see Snow White in the window. The kiss scene: her animatronic prince is actually bending over her, planting one tender kiss on her lips before he rises again. It’s being repeated over and over to appreciative coos from the crowd. Betsy can’t take her eyes off it. It’s so creepy and yet so lovely. All couples go through bad patches, right? Why should she and Jacob be any different? She’s looking at the faces of the strangers around her, all so absorbed by it, as if collectively thinking, yes, this is what life is all about. Finding your someone special. This is what we all want, deep down, whether we know it or not.
The throng behind them is impatient for their moment with Snow White so Betsy and Nat move along, making their way along the full length of Saks’ windows. Every one of them is paying homage to the Disney princess – that’s fourteen windows looking out onto Fifth Avenue that are crammed with lavish scenes that must have taken all year to create. Dwarves are astride baby deer, woodland creatures are singing to and dancing with Snow White, the Wicked Queen even gets a look in. Then, when they turn the corner onto 49th Street, the windows have been filled with different designer interpretations of what Snow White might wear today. One is a beautiful white dress by Marchesa, a label Betsy recognises from her mum’s boutique. And just look at it! It’s the most beautiful dress she has ever seen: a silk-tulle ballgown with embroidered silver stars falling down the skirt and flutter sleeves that billow out romantically from the mannequin. It’s exactly the sort of dress she might have been wearing in a few weeks from now if… if everything had been so different. If she hadn’t caved into the first real challenge her relationship had ever been thrown.
Betsy can feel her cheeks get colder and realises it’s because tears are starting to run down them.
‘Come on, let’s get back to the hotel, get packed and get to the airport for a glass of something expensive before we get on board.’ Nat doesn’t need to say anything more. She can probably tell none of Betsy’s problems are going to get resolved until she is back in England and facing them. Perhaps with the immoveable deadline of the seven-hour flight home, Betsy will finally be forced to decide how this story is going to end.
* * *
She wasn’t expecting to sleep on the way home and she doesn’t. But by the time the wheels touch down at Heathrow at 11 a.m., Betsy has a plan. She is getting off this flight, into a black cab and going straight to the office. Nat looks as fresh as a daisy, having snored pretty loudly most of the way home, and as they say their goodbyes, Betsy fights back more tears. How she wishes she was Nat, going home for a hot shower and a day on the sofa, sending harmless flirty texts back and forth across the Atlantic to Ethan.
‘Listen, it’s all going to be fine.’ Nat squeezes her hand as they make their way through to baggage reclaim. ‘It always is, in the end. No one has died, you just need to have the difficult conversations and move on. Just imagine how much better you’re going to feel when this is all over.’
Betsy wishes she shared Nat’s confidence. She’s right about one thing, though: the next conversation is going to be very difficult.
* * *
She’s willing the black cab to go slowly, but for once, they are round the airport one-way system and onto the M4 in no time at all. All too soon the cab is climbing over the Earls Court flyover and past the Natural History Museum – not even a building this beautiful can lift her spirits today. By the time she is passing Buckingham Palace Betsy feels like she’s drunk six double-shot coffees. She can feel her heartbeat fluttering, all that nervous energy at the thought of seeing Dylan, and then telling him she has to make a go of it with Jacob. She’s going to have the conversation as quickly as possible, make her excuses, then get home and start repairing all the damage she’s caused. Jacob will probably be writing so she’ll make him cups of tea and tidy the house.
Damn it! Dylan’s at lunch. Of course he is. He’s texted to say he’ll be back as soon as he can – hopefully, by 4 p.m. Bang goes her surprise afternoon with Jacob, but it does at least give Betsy a chance to reconnect with her team – and to have a much-needed shower. Kirsty is working from home today because her daughter is sick, and Lauren is out at meetings, so that just leaves her and Anton on their bank of desks. Not ideal. But remarkably, he has landed a new piece of business while Betsy was away and is overflowing with even more than his usual dose of self-importance.
‘I just knew they’d go for it. I worked bloody hard on that proposal, it was too good to turn down and they would have been idiots to have walked away.’
>
The half-hearted smile Betsy’s managing is only making Anton work harder to impress her.
‘They did say, actually, Betsy, that it was by far the most professional and competitive approach they’ve had. D’you think I should get a meeting in with Dylan when he’s back and tell him all about it?’
‘No!’ She shrieks the word a lot louder than she intended but there’s only one person getting into Dylan’s office this afternoon and it’s not this wannabe.
‘Oh… OK.’
Betsy can see from the incredulous look on Anton’s face and the sarcastic arch of his eyebrows exactly what’s going through his mind. Something unfavourable about irrational, emotional female bosses. He’s probably thinking he knows more than her, now that he’s claimed one solitary deal in the six months he’s been working here. He’s disappointed he’s not getting the verbal back-slap he feels he deserves. And it’s mean of Betsy not to give it. She knows it too, but she’s too distracted practising the little speech she’s going to give Dylan in a few hours from now.
By 5 p.m. and still no sign of Dylan, people are starting to drift off home, which is a good thing. This chat is going to be awkward enough and the less people in the office to potentially see any of it, the better. His last text at 4.45 p.m. said he was on his way so she has no choice but to wait it out.
Finally, nearly an hour later, he walks in, eyes looking directly over at Betsy’s desk. Then he scans the room quickly, sees that she is alone, drops his bag and walks straight over to her. He must clock the pained look on her face because halfway across the room he slows and his smile fades slightly.
‘Are you OK?’ He’s at her desk now and goes to embrace her but changes his mind at the last second. He can surely tell from the way she doesn’t rise from her chair but lowers her gaze to her keyboard that she’s not OK.
‘The trip was good.’ She nods gently. ‘I saw everyone that you wanted me to and all the interviews went—’
‘That’s not what I mean, you know it isn’t.’ He doesn’t sound angry or worried but there is the slightest nervous edge to his voice like he knows something is wrong, but isn’t quite sure of the scale of it yet. He sits on the desk, right next to her, and uses his right foot to move her chair so that she is directly facing him.
‘Shall we go into your office? It’s more private.’ Betsy’s still not smiling. It’s clear she’s not suggesting the privacy for what Dylan might have had in mind. She’s timid now, doubting how on earth she is going to get the words out.
‘No! What’s wrong? Tell me, Betsy. I’ve been desperate to see you all day and now you’re acting like I’ve done something wrong.’
‘Well, we both have, haven’t we? I’ve been doing some thinking while I’ve been away and I’ve got to try and give things a go. With Jacob, I mean.’
‘Jesus!’ The word roars out of him and while Betsy tries to gather herself, he explodes. ‘Do you have any idea what this is doing to me?’ He’s on his feet now, pacing around her desk, hands pulling at his hair. ‘I can’t concentrate on anything else but you. I’ve been trying so hard not to love you from the very beginning. And when I finally have hope that you might just give me a chance, you tell me this?’ Then he’s gone, back into his office, where he slumps into his chair.
Betsy sits for a moment, pondering her next move. Should she be gutless, take the easy option and slip out of the office to give him chance to calm down? Perhaps call him later? But she’ll have to pass his door to make it to the lift and she’s guessing he won’t let that happen. She takes a moment, gets her breath back, then slowly approaches his office. He’s reclining in the seat now, watching her.
‘I’m so, so sorry, Dylan. I’m just trying to do the right thing. I never meant to hurt you – or anyone.’
‘So, you’re going to marry someone who is not worthy of you at all just to avoid hurting him. I love you, Betsy, doesn’t that count for something too?’
Hearing him say those words sends such a heave of emotion up through her that she can’t control the tears and they start to slowly seep out of her. He sees it and is out of his chair and across the room to her in seconds.
‘Don’t bloody do it! I love you, I want to be with you. We can make this work, I know we can.’ He wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her neck, letting his lips travel along her skin to her shoulder, pushing the strap of her bra down as he goes.
She doesn’t have the will or the desire to stop him and as their lips meet, she starts to unbutton his shirt. Betsy closes her eyes and hears herself saying his name over and over again as their clothes are dropping to the floor, and his hands are exploring every nearly naked inch of her. Then, just as everything is feeling so right, and Dylan’s started to tease her knickers down over her hip bones, she can feel him tense and pull back from her. There’s a clattering sound from outside on the main office floor, as if someone is trying to make an exit at great speed before they are seen. But Dylan has seen them, through the giant glass wall of his office.
‘Oh my God, who is it?’ Betsy is mortified, trying to gather her things from the floor with one hand and shield herself with the other. Laura, she could handle, but not Anton, or any other of the people that share this office.
‘Christ! What day is it?’ Dylan is clearly panicking too.
‘Wednesday, why? Who was that, Dylan? Tell me!’
He’s at his desk now, bashing away at his keyboard while trying to get his shirt back on, then he glances down at his watch before collapsing back in his chair, defeated.
‘Argh, what an idiot! How could I forget? I was so distracted by the fact you were coming back today, Betsy, it completely slipped my mind. I’m so sorry.’ He’s actually blushing, she’s never seen him look embarrassed before.
‘I arranged for him to come and look at the office space. You know, when I had drinks with you all at The Connaught.’
‘Who? What do you mean?’ She’s getting cross now, unable to follow what little information Dylan’s giving her.
‘Nick.’ Dylan’s head is in his hands, knowing there is no way to make this better.
‘Not Mum’s Nick? No! It can’t be.’
‘Yes. He saw everything, Betsy.’
24
Helen
Is there any better feeling than being brilliantly in demand? Today, Helen’s got a full schedule of appointments in the Cotswold boutique – six brides who all need her at the top of her game – and she can’t wait to get cracking. Plus, Nick has already called this morning to say he’s driving over to see her with something to talk about that can’t wait, which she hopes will be as exciting as it sounds. Then a text from Betsy, saying she has taken the day off work – unheard of – and is also on her way. Helen’s not sure who will arrive first, but she’s rather hoping it will be Nick. She could do with chatting through the Betsy situation with him before her daughter gets here.
She cried when she received Betsy’s text last week, brutally confirming her worst fears that the wedding is off. It was all she could think about that day; her poor Betsy was way beyond reach of the cuddle Helen knew she’d need. There was a fleeting moment when she actually considered getting on a plane to New York herself but then she was reminded how Betsy hasn’t wanted her advice and support for a long time. Would she want it now, when they feel further apart than ever?
She can’t even bring herself to look at the Bruce Oldfield dress that’s hung, protected by its thick, clear plastic bag, in her bedroom upstairs. The gentle ping of her mobile woke her at seven o’clock that morning and she felt nauseous as the words started to slowly make sense. First, because a quick calculation confirmed that it was very early hours in New York and Betsy was still awake, no doubt agonising over the whole thing. Secondly, because her words sounded so dramatic. Helen can tell the message was written through tears. But thirdly, and most significantly, she cried because of what that text says about her relationship with her daughter. Have they really grown so far apart that Betsy felt she
could break that news in the most casual way possible? Did she even care as she was sending it that it would crush Helen for so many different reasons? That its arrival in her inbox is confirmation that she’s failed her daughter; the joyous family occasion they all need is cancelled, a painful reminder there is no Phillip to help talk Betsy through all this? The best of dads, as well as husbands, he would have known exactly what to say. Is her daughter really that cowardly? And now that she’s on her way, is Helen going to share all these feelings with her?
Helen is preparing for her first appointment today – a young girl called Tabitha whose emailed brief was typed in multi-coloured letters, littered with unicorn emojis, and simply saying, make me shine like a diamond. But now she can feel the heaviness start to weigh in her chest. Being a good mum is the one thing she’s always felt no one can take away from her. She might be useless at confrontation, defenceless in the face of a sad story and often shy when it comes to making new friends, but being a good mum? It’s her calling. At least she always thought it was.