‘What? No –’ Pippa tried to grab Ollie’s arm, but he was already walking purposefully across the room. ‘Ollie, no,’ she muttered, hurrying after him.
‘Evening, folks!’ Ollie said in a loud jovial voice, coming to a standstill above the couple.
Jack looked at him blankly. Melissa looked bemused.
Pippa sidled up next to Ollie.
‘Hello, Jack, Melissa,’ she said awkwardly.
Jack spilt his beer on his thigh.
‘Pippa! And yes, of course, Ollie. Sorry, wasn’t expecting to see you here.’
‘Just treating Pippa to a decent meal,’ Ollie beamed. ‘Mind if we –’
‘Sorry to have disturbed you,’ Pippa interrupted and gave his arm a subtle yank. ‘We were just on our way to the bar.’ She gave them an apologetic smile and tried to guide Ollie away.
‘No, please. Have a seat,’ Jack said, half-rising in politeness.
‘We really don’t want to intrude,’ she insisted.
‘Don’t mind if we do, thanks,’ Ollie grinned, stepping around the table to an empty chair.
Pippa hesitated. She noticed a small frown flit across Melissa’s unlined forehead as Ollie passed her and the woman tilted her nose to sniff the air. Pippa cringed. She’d almost forgotten about the potential matching cologne issue. Jack didn’t appear to have noticed. He was busy dabbing the wet patch on his thigh with a paper napkin.
‘Pippa, are you going to sit down? I thought you said your feet were hurting.’
Three faces looked up at her in expectation. Feeling like she was about to step into a minefield, she took her place next to Ollie.
Jack cleared his throat.
‘Melissa, you remember Pippa, my secretary? And this is Ollie. Ollie, Melissa.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Melissa conceded. ‘I didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, Pippa.’
‘Ollie still lives in London,’ she explained. She glanced at Jack, trying to gauge his reaction to them crashing their party. His expression was of controlled neutrality.
‘And what do you do in London?’ Melissa asked.
‘I’m an actor.’ Ollie smiled modestly at the impressed raise of her manicured eyebrows. ‘One of my co-stars on Holby City, Rich Holden, recommended this restaurant. What line of work are you in?’ he continued, sensing a potential fan.
Melissa gave a nonchalant wave of her hand and re-crossed her long legs.
‘Fashion. I design clothes. Not a huge label; I prefer to cater for the select.’
This time it was Ollie’s turn to look impressed.
‘And no doubt you’re very good at it,’ he replied, nodding in appreciation at her stylish woollen twill outfit. ‘Have you ever thought about acting? The camera would love you.’
Pippa’s eyes widened at his blatant flirting and darted a panicked look towards Jack. The trainer sat, very still and watchful, reminding her of a hunter awaiting its prey.
Melissa laughed, placing an elegant hand at the base of her throat and fingering her necklace.
‘Pippa,’ she smiled, a trace of misguided pity in her tone making her feel even more humiliated. ‘Jack tells me you’re quite the artist. Do you intend to make a business of your talent?’
With an awkward chuckle, she shrugged.
‘I don’t know –’
‘It’d be a pretty precarious business, wouldn’t you say?’ Ollie snorted. ‘When was the last time you sold a painting?’
‘Not so long ago, in fact,’ Jack spoke up. ‘She did a commission just before Christmas.’
For a moment, Ollie looked wrong-footed.
‘You never mentioned it,’ he said, frowning at Pippa.
‘Didn’t I? It was the one of Black Russian on the Gallops.’
‘Ah, that name rings a bell. Dan Cameron’s horse, wasn’t it?’ Ollie directed his question at Jack.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Bet he won’t be commissioning Pippa to paint any more of his horses if that’s the outcome,’ Ollie chuckled.
Jack remained silent, a muscle now jumping in the hollow of his jaw.
‘Why don’t we go see if our table’s ready yet?’ Pippa suggested.
Ollie waved her away.
‘No, they said at least twenty minutes. Look how full this place is. Anyway, please pass on my condolences to Dan, won’t you?’
‘Of course,’ Jack nodded.
‘You don’t happen to know what projects he’s got in the pipeline, do you? I mean, they’ve extended my role in Holby City indefinitely, but it’s good to know what else is on the card.’
Jack took a long level sip of his beer before answering.
‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. I’m not in the habit of delving into my owners’ affairs. My interests in them only go so far as their horses.’
‘Well, maybe next time he calls, Pippa can do a bit of delving,’ Ollie beamed.
Pippa closed her eyes, wishing her chair would swallow her up.
‘Ollie, I don’t think that’d be such a good idea.’
‘Why not? You roped him into letting you paint his horse, didn’t you?’
Pippa’s ears burned, but Jack intervened before she could reply.
‘That painting was commissioned by me actually.’
Pippa’s focus swung from Jack to Ollie via an entertained-looking Melissa.
Ollie regained his composure and chuckled. He looked at Melissa and threw a thumb towards Pippa beside him.
‘There’s your answer then about making a business out of her paintings. Pippa, you can’t seriously consider making a living out of it when it’s friends and family who buy your stuff.’
Pippa clenched her teeth. Ollie’s pride, which Jack had just dented, was becoming a bit too precious for her patience.
‘I didn’t say I was going to –’
‘She’s more than capable of earning a living off her art,’ Jack said quietly.
Pippa gulped.
Jack’s eyes had turned indigo.
Oh, God, she knew that look more than any other.
‘I think we should go check on our table,’ she blurted. ‘Like you say, they’re very busy. We wouldn’t want to miss our booking.’
‘No, don’t go. Twenty minutes hasn’t gone by that quick,’ Melissa said, sounding almost genuine.
Pippa was surprised to see open amusement on her face. She was actually enjoying the encounter. Ollie, misinterpreting the request for sympathy, relaxed back into his chair.
‘Quite,’ he replied, his feathers soothed. He took a gulp of his wine then held up the glass to reflect on its empty contents.
‘Why don’t you go get us another drink then, Pippa, if you’re so keen to go?’ His mouth twisted into a nasty smile.
Pippa set her jaw. She would not make a scene in public, especially in front of Jack, but by God she was going to have it out with him when they got home later.
‘No, I think we’d best wait until we’ve had some food. You probably haven’t eaten since you left London this morning and we’ve already had a couple of drinks at the races.’
Ollie’s eyes glittered dangerously, but he didn’t argue. Instead he placed the empty glass on the table then lounged back, linking his hands behind his head.
‘I have to say hats off to you, Jack, for taking on Pippa.’
Jack frowned.
‘And why do you say that?’ he said quietly.
Pippa was past caring why. She recognised the solemn tone of Jack’s voice, which others fortunate enough not to have been on the receiving end of his temper might not. It was like earth tremors which are only felt by animals. The imminent earthquake would hit the unaware all the harder.
‘Well, she’s a feisty thing, isn’t she?’ Ollie laughed. He winked at Pippa. ‘Strong-willed yet away with the fairies most of the time. And you, brave enough to take her on knowing she’s just a waitress –’
‘Ollie!’ Pippa exclaimed.
‘What?’ he said, raising his hands in innocence.
‘That is what you are, Pippa. You’d never worked in an office before a couple of months ago. I’ll bet she’s given you a few grey hairs since she joined the ranks, eh, Jack?’
Jack exhaled with difficulty.
‘Pippa is one of Aspen Valley’s best assets,’ he said, his voice straining to keep level. ‘She’s resourceful and hardworking. If anybody is to be deemed brave, then it’s her, not me.’
Melissa looked less amused.
Ollie snorted.
‘How so?’ he asked in a patronising tone.
Pippa gasped as Jack slammed down his drink. He leaned forward in his seat and glared at Ollie.
‘Because she’s taken on a new career, wanting to support her horse whilst juggling a massive renovation of her cottage. And what’s more she’s succeeding.’
Pippa’s discomfort over Ollie’s manners fell by the wayside as she stared at Jack in wonder of his rigid defence of her.
Ollie laughed, any caution now a distant speck of dust in the wind.
‘Ah yes, her horse. This whole racing venture isn’t brave, Jack. You, of all people, should know that. It’s foolish, plain and simple. Look at today, for instance. That horse, which Pippa is so convinced is going to win the Grand National, couldn’t even win some low class race out in the middle of the sticks.’
‘Enough, Ollie!’ Pippa cried. She snatched up her bag, but Jack was already on his feet, towering over the table and pointing a menacing finger towards Ollie.
‘The only foolish thing I’ve seen Pippa do is date you!’ he shouted, his body trembling with rage.
Ollie’s sardonic smile disappeared. A blaring hush fell over the lounge. All eyes turned on Jack, his fury sending shockwaves through the room.
The surprise on Ollie’s face altered and his wide-eyed gaze flickered between Jack and Pippa, a dawning. Pippa felt it too and by the not-so-amused-now look on Melissa’ face, she did as well.
‘It’s time we left, Ollie,’ Pippa said, her voice shaking. She leapt up and, grabbing a shell-shocked Ollie by the sleeve, pulled him after her.
‘What the hell is that guy’s problem?’ Ollie exclaimed, finding his voice as they burst out of the restaurant onto the harbour promenade.
Pippa whipped around and stared at him, incredulous.
‘You, Ollie!’ she said. ‘You are the problem! How dare you speak to me like that in front of Jack and Melissa!’
Ollie glared back.
‘What did I say that was so wrong? Or so inaccurate?’
‘In the space of five minutes, you managed to insult me, Jack and Peace Offering!’ she said, jabbing the air with her finger at every name.
‘Everything I said was true though!’
Pippa’s breath came in short shallow gasps that pooled in foggy clouds in front of her.
‘What gives you the right to dismiss me like that, huh?’ she said, her voice lowered to a steel iciness. ‘You sit there shamelessly flirting with my boss’ girlfriend in front of me –’
‘I wasn’t flirting!’
‘Yes, you were,’ Pippa snapped. ‘And to rub in that humiliation, you insult my secretarial skills and fob off my artwork.’
‘You never painted in London!’ Ollie said in defence.
‘I used to though, didn’t I?’ she challenged him. ‘Have you ever wondered why I stopped painting?’ A sudden urge to punch him swelled inside her as the bitter reason exposed itself to her.
‘It was a hobby. I thought you lost interest.’
‘No, Ollie!’ she cried, stamping her foot. ‘My art was not a hobby! And if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own little world, maybe you would’ve seen that, would’ve encouraged me rather than slagging me off the entire time! That’s why I stopped painting! I loved my art. I wanted to make a career out of it and you stopped me!’
Ollie glared at her, insult etched across his face.
‘I never stopped you from painting!’
‘No, not physically. But psychologically, that’s another story. You managed to make me think your career was more important, your happiness was more important.’ She gulped as a ball of tears rose in the back of her throat. She pointed at him accusingly. ‘And for three years, my life has been non-existent. It has merely revolved around yours.’
‘Well, if that’s the way you feel. Personally, I think you should take a good long look at yourself, Pippa. Look at reality, if you’ve got the guts to. You deserted me in London to live out some stupid fantasy. Don’t you think that was pretty fucking selfish of you?’
‘Selfish to want to live my own life?’ She shook her head. ‘No, Ollie. I think it’s selfish of you not to have let me.’
Ollie opened his arms wide.
‘So where does that leave us? You’ve said some pretty unforgivable things to me, Pippa.’
The swelling in her throat subsided and she couldn’t help uttering a short burst of laughter.
‘It leaves us with nothing, Ollie. I have no wish for your forgiveness because quite simply, I don’t respect you anymore. You’ve done nothing to earn it.’
He gaped at her.
‘You’re breaking up with me?’
‘Yes, Ollie,’ she laughed. ‘This useless away-with-the-fairies waitress girlfriend is dumping her hot-shot Hollywood-here-I-come actor boyfriend.’
‘Well, you beat me to it then because don’t think anybody can talk to me like that and get away with it!’ Ollie replied, folding his arms across his chest, his rigid stance making her think of someone with carrot stuck up their arse.
‘I can’t believe your arrogance,’ Pippa snorted in disbelief.
‘I’m not arrogant!’ he retorted. ‘I know when I’m right, I – I just have difficulty proving it sometimes, that’s all.’
‘Go on then,’ she said, gesturing him away with her hand. ‘Go back to London. I’m not what you need nor do I want to be that person anymore.’
Ollie nodded and took a hesitant step away.
‘Fine, I’m going. Have a nice life, Pippa.’
‘Bye, Ollie. Have a good one too.’
In the amber lighting along the quay, she watched Ollie stride away without a backward glance. She turned to go in the opposite direction, hugging her coat around her as she became aware of the icy wind coming off the water. Like a popped beach ball, her almost hysterical triumph of finally breaking up with Ollie started to deflate, replaced with a pitiful low. Pity for herself and pity for him as well.
As she wandered aimlessly and alone along the row of restaurants and nightclubs, she realised that she was stuck in Bristol. Ollie had been her lift home.
‘Oh, fuck,’ she muttered. ‘You and your big mouth, Pippa. Why couldn’t you have broken up with him tomorrow or something? Now you’ve got to get a taxi all the way back home.’ This rather conniving thought brought a smile to her face as she realised that now she really was on her own. Ollie was no longer a part of her life. Her smile widened and her step quickened. Oh, the relief!
She passed the fountains and headed for a long queue by the taxi ranks. The boisterous shouts of drunken Saturday nighters bounced off the stone Georgian buildings leaning over the steep cobbled streets as she took her place at the back of the line.
She supposed about a quarter of an hour had passed, shuffling along the barrier on cold aching feet as the taxi queue wobbled forward, when she heard her name being shouted. She looked up.
‘Do you need a ride?’ Jack asked from the open window of his Land Rover.
Pippa didn’t think twice. Flashing him a grin and amidst the jovial shouts of ‘Ey there, love, give us a ride too! I’ll give you one in return’, Pippa ducked beneath the metal railing and pulled wide the passenger door which Jack had pushed open for her.
‘Thank you,’ she gushed. ‘God, it’s freezing out there.’
She rubbed her hands together and blew on them as they set off down the street.
‘Where’s Ollie?’ Jack asked, his expression grave.
‘On his way back to London, I
expect. Where’s Melissa?’
‘She had her own car with her.’ He paused. ‘Pippa, I’m sorry for my – my outburst. It was completely out of line and totally unprofessional.’ His frown deepened as he stared resolutely at the road ahead and gripped the steering wheel for emphasis on each word.
‘No, please. Don’t apologise,’ she said, full of remorse. ‘It was Ollie who was out of order. I’m sorry he was so rude.’
‘I hope I haven’t caused any long-lasting damage by what I said.’
She looked ahead again, unsure how to answer him without making him feel even guiltier.
‘Ollie and I have decided to call it quits.’
Jack’s head snapped sideways in surprise.
‘Jesus, Pippa! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go that far. I just saw red and I couldn’t stop myself. You know how I can get like.’ He shook his head and banged his palm against the wheel. ‘Me and my bloody temper. I’m sorry.’
Pippa ventured out a placating hand to his arm.
‘Don’t be,’ she said. ‘It was already on the cards.’
‘Are you – um – are you okay?’
Pippa shrugged and let her hand drop away.
‘Well, I don’t feel great, but on the other hand it’s actually quite a relief now that it’s over.’
‘You deserve better than him. Does he always treat you like that?’
‘It hasn’t always been this way,’ she reasoned. ‘I guess it’s been a gradual thing, kind of like wrinkles. You don’t notice them until one day you have a particularly bad hangover and then they’re glaring at you from the bathroom mirror. It’s only lately that I’ve come to realise just how much of a wrinkle Ollie is.’
Jack gave a mirthless chuckle.
‘There’s a lot more appropriate and less complimentary words I can think of to describe him than wrinkle.’
‘He’s not entirely to blame though. I’ve pandered to his every need these past few years to avoid his temper tantrums. I’m just as much at fault.’
‘I doubt that. You never stood up to him?’
‘No, it was easier not to.’
‘That surprises me. You don’t think twice about standing up to me.’ He shot her a wry smile.
Keeping the Peace Page 22