You Had Me at Merlot

by Lisa Dickenson

  ‘“HOW DO I OPEN THIS BASTARD DOOR?”’ Laurie imitated, and Donna snorted into her limoncello.

  ‘What’s for dinner tonight?’ asked Laurie about half an hour later, as she studied her swollen ankle.

  I yawned and sat up from where I’d been dozing in the sunshine. My stomach growled. ‘Good question. I hope there’s Chinese food.’

  Donna laughed then stood up, a bit wobbly. ‘Is that them?’ She pointed to the horizon, where a large pickup truck was bumping its way over the vineyard.

  I jumped up and waved, my skin and clothes now sprinkled with dust, sweat and sploshes of limoncello. The truck pulled to a gentle halt as close as it could come and out hopped two figures, who ran like they were in a Lucozade advert towards us.

  ‘Laurie, it’s Jon,’ cried Donna.

  I smiled, my heart beating faster. ‘And Jamie.’

  When they reached us they tried to pretend they weren’t utterly puffed out, and Jamie mopped his brow with the bottom of his shirt, lifting it to reveal that lovely, taut stomach. ‘Yum,’ I accidently said out loud.

  ‘Laurie!’

  ‘Jon!’ They exclaimed at each other melodramatically, and Jon dropped to her side while she tried to angle her cankle in a way that was more flattering.

  ‘What happened? Are you okay?’ asked Jamie, looking me over in panic and spinning me around to check all sides.

  ‘I’m fine.’ I couldn’t help but chuckle. I looked him in the eye and tried to convey how I was sorry, how I wanted to talk to him, how I wanted to be with him, and how I wished everyone else wasn’t around right now.

  ‘I’m fine too, if anyone cares,’ said Donna, between slurps from the limoncello bottle.

  I explained what had happened, my mouth dry and acutely aware of Jamie watching me. ‘Laurie just lost control briefly and ended up in that hedge.’ I was not to start giggling now. ‘It wasn’t funny at all. She’s hurt her ankle pretty badly.’

  Jamie caught my eye again, an amused twinkle in his, and turned to Laurie. ‘Do you need to go to hospital?’

  ‘No, I’ll be very brave.’ Jon was stroking her hair and cooing over her. I think she’d be suitably soothed with a couple of hours of TLC from him.

  Jamie nodded and leaned into the hedge to yank out the Vespa. It looked fine, other than a broken headlight with a twig spiking out of it.

  ‘Sorry, Jamie, I’ll pay for any damage.’

  ‘No you won’t, this is nothing. Best not to drive it back, though; we’ll put it in the truck. We do have one problem, however.’

  ‘What’s that?’ hiccupped Donna.

  ‘Neither of you two can ride your Vespas back because you’ve been drinking.’

  I was mortified – I hadn’t even thought about it. Donna mulled over the problem then started laughing, which was no help.

  ‘And we can’t fit five people and three Vespas in that truck.’

  ‘I could walk back,’ I said meekly, which started Laurie off laughing.

  ‘How about this: Jon, do you think you can drive the truck back to the house? Would you feel comfortable with that?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Then you take Laurie and Donna, and we’ll put two of the scooters in the back, then I’ll drive the third back with Elle riding pillion.’ He looked at me. ‘Are you comfortable with that?’

  I gulped. I didn’t know where we stood right now, or really how things were between us, but was I comfortable wrapping myself around a delicious man as he rides me around the Italian countryside, so to speak? Yes.

  The gents made a show of lifting the Vespas to the truck with one arm, while we gathered up our scattered belongings, including Laurie’s runaway shoes, and helped her down onto the road. When she was settled into the truck as comfortably as could be expected, and she’d given me the most almighty, unsubtle wink, off they went, Jon driving slowly and carefully.

  Jamie and I walked back up to my Vespa. I didn’t quite know what to say to him, so breathed a sigh of relief when he broke the ice.

  ‘Do you want to hear something that makes me the most evil man on the planet?’

  ‘Always.’

  ‘When Donna called about the accident my mother didn’t catch everything she was saying and she didn’t know who’d actually been on the Vespa, we just knew it was you or Laurie. When we got here and I saw it was Laurie, well …’ He peeped at me through his eyelashes. ‘I was relieved it wasn’t you.’

  I shook my head. ‘I can’t believe you were glad my friend got hurt. What a sicko.’

  ‘I wasn’t glad, I just – oh, you’re joking?’

  ‘I’m joking. Now, you can’t judge me for this, because I don’t mean to sound like a massive bitch, but …’

  ‘Always a promising start to a sentence.’

  ‘After it happened – when I saw she wasn’t, like, dead or anything – a little tiny part of was excited that we might have to stay a few more days. You know, in case she couldn’t walk or something.’

  ‘So you’re saying, in a way, you were glad your friend got hurt?’

  ‘It’s worse than that; I’m worse than that. When she got up with no more than a hobble I was actually a tad disappointed.’

  Jamie laughed. ‘Wow, I never knew what an awful person you are.’

  ‘But I hide it well, that’s what really matters. And it all comes from a place of good – I just thought you and I needed a little extra time.’ I held my breath.

  Jamie was silent, contemplative as he gave the Vespa a check over. He then handed me my helmet, jumped on and patted the back for me to climb aboard, giving me a warm smile as he did so.

  We didn’t say a word to each other all the way home. I just curled around Jamie, rested my cheek against his back and watched Tuscany whoosh past, the late-afternoon sunshine washing the hills with gold. My breathing coordinated with his and occasionally I would look up and catch a glimpse of the back of his neck, tanned a deep brown from all his days spent outdoors. One time he looked to his left and caught me, flashing a quick smile that made me snuggle in closer as if nothing was disjointed between us.

  Jamie dropped me outside the main house.

  ‘Can I see you later?’ I asked.

  ‘Definitely. I’ll be at dinner tonight, and then maybe you can come back to mine and we can talk.’

  ‘And drink cappuccinos and eat chocolate?’

  He smiled. ‘I’d like that a lot.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Me too. See you soon, Elle.’ He touched my upper arm, his fingers sending an electric shock down the back of my spine, and just like that he left, trundling off to put the Vespa away. I think I had my man back. I don’t think he ever stopped being mine.

  I walked back into the main house, dragging my hands through my greasy hair. Hot Italian sun and bike helmets do not mix well. And I walked straight into Rachel.

  She was leaning against the wall, her suitcase by her feet and her face the picture of pissed off.

  ‘You’re still here?’ I blurted. Well, she did call me a dopey psycho, so we were obviously beyond niceties.

  She scowled at me. ‘Yes, I’m still here. The first flight out is eleven o’clock tonight. I’ve been hanging around all bloody day.’

  I shrugged and moved past her to go up the stairs. ‘Have a good journey.’

  ‘Looks like you just did.’

  ‘The best.’

  ‘Everything you’ve done with him I’m sure I did first, sweetheart.’

  I bristled. ‘I’m going to have a bath.’

  ‘Yeah, I think that would be a good idea.’

  I stopped and turned to her. ‘I’m sorry you wasted your time coming out here.’

  ‘It wasn’t a waste. The whole trip has been very interesting.’ She looked me up and down and raised her eyebrows.

  ‘But all that money you spent, all that time, and he didn’t want you.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘You win some, you lose some. Better that I find out his tastes have changed now.’ S
he slipped on her shades, as if to announce the conversation was over.

  ‘I know in your mind you’re much cooler than me, much prettier, much more alluring, but maybe this whole experience will make you realise you can’t treat people like toys. If you do, people get tired of you, and even if you looked like … Dannii Minogue he wouldn’t want you back.’ Dannii Minogue? Where did she come from?

  Rachel sighed and turned away from me. I waited a moment for a response, before giving up and ascending the stairs. I was nearly at the top when I heard her again.

  ‘I’m not a horrible girl, you know. We’re probably pretty similar.’

  ‘No, we’re not. I wouldn’t make a promise, then break it, then waltz back in when I think it’s better timing for me.’

  ‘So you never made a mistake, never needed time to think? Well congratulations to you. You win.’

  A taxi honked outside and Rachel picked up her bag and left, without another glance in my direction.

  As I bathed and dressed for our final dinner, I thought a lot about Rachel, and whether I’d been too harsh. The girl was smarting and lashing out, but I wondered if it was possible that any one of us would have done the same in her position. To those who knew Jamie at the time, or for me, knowing him now, we could tell he’d been heartbroken – it was as if his girlfriend had died and he was suddenly never to speak to her again.

  But what had been her side, her reasons? Perhaps she really did leave here hoping to make it work, not knowing how to do so and then giving up, thinking it would be easier to just let things slide away. And then one day she realised she’d been wrong, and she wanted him back. The hopes she must have had before coming here, the scenarios she must have played in her head, all of happy reunions and long-missed kisses. Then she arrives, and not only does he turn her down but he’s found a replacement and they seem happy, and she has to live with that.

  It was a thinker. I guess it takes a lot for us as humans to realise, truly, that we’re not in the right, because it’s rare we do something wrong with no motivation – even if that motivation comes from revenge, which comes from hurt, or because we’re afraid of something. Everyone has their reasons for acting the way they do, even if others can’t understand it.

  But then what do I know, because I’m always right.

  After everyone had gathered in the wine-tasting room that night Sofia proudly led us on a final sunset walk through the vineyard to one of the wine cellars, in which she’d laid a long, thick oak table with a beautiful centrepiece of fairy lights and entwined twigs, and wine-toned roses.

  There were no set places; everyone slotted in next to the person they had the most connection with. Jamie had yet to arrive and I didn’t know if he had a special seat near Sofia and Sebastian, so for me that meant Laurie on one side and Donna on the other. I’m sure lots of the other guests must have assumed Donna and I were lesbians.

  We were also sitting across from Pierre, which meant that none of us could look directly ahead for fear of catching his eye and imagining his ball. Or in Laurie’s case, remembering it in all its glory.

  ‘I am so sad that it’s our final meal together,’ Sofia announced once we were all seated. ‘Please eat as much as you can and drink as much as you can and laugh as much as you can.’

  Jamie arrived, looking handsome in a deep red shirt, his stubble trimmed back, and I met his eye. A grin spread across his face and he took a seat further down the table, raising a glass of wine to me.

  Dinner was luxurious, relaxed, with flowing wine and flowing chatter – so much more comfortable than the stiff meet-and-greet that we’d had the first night. I’m the first to admit I’d been very cynical about singles’ holidays, but looking at the happy faces around me, and all these new people I’d met and how they’d changed me, I saw how beneficial they could be. And I didn’t want You Had Me at Merlot to have to end.

  Plate after plate of every Italian dish imaginable came out, all cooked by Sebastian but brought in by hired waiters. We had shavings of ham direct from Parma, bulbous local olives, crisped basil leaves, olive oil-soaked mozzarella, those delicious bruschetta, flat-breads, braised rabbit stew, cannelloni, gnocchi, risotto, miniature pizzas … The list went on. Usually, if I’m nervous my appetite goes out of the window, but there wasn’t a thing on the table that my mouth didn’t beg to sample.

  Until I saw Annette slap Pierre’s hand as he reached for a stalk of prosciutto-wrapped asparagus and he visibly jumped with excitement. Then I decided I could do without one of them.

  Jamie slipped out of the dinner before dessert, thanking everyone for coming and saying he’d see everyone in the morning. He turned back as he was walking out, and met my eye across the crowded room. I nodded.

  ‘Go and party like it’s 1999,’ whispered Laurie.

  ‘We just need to talk.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ she coughed.

  ‘But after all that talking …’

  ‘That’s my girl!’ She practically pushed me up and out of my seat, and with a gushing thanks to our hosts I left.

  I made my way through the vineyard, taking my time, looking at the stars, until I reached Jamie’s house. I shouldn’t be so nervous – we were going to be okay. With a deep breath, I knocked on his door.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Buonasera,’ he said, standing there with his shirt untucked, a few buttons undone. I felt like a tornado of emotions whipped up inside me as I looked at him and all I could think was I don’t want to not be around you. ‘So, are you all packed for Florida?’

  ‘I’m not going to Florida.’

  He smiled. ‘I know; George spoke to me earlier. He threatened me, actually.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘That if I mistreated you again, or if any other girls suddenly show up with suitcases and kisses, he’d not only offer you the biggest, most high-paying job in the States that you couldn’t refuse, but he’d also buy a supermarket just so he could buy out Bella Notte.’

  ‘Wow … how high-paying I wonder?’

  Jamie laughed and led me inside, his hand on my back causing butterflies. I sat at his table and the conversation dried up for a while as we both ate his homemade chocolate.

  After a lifetime he pushed the crumbs aside and reached across to me. ‘I’m sorry about Rachel. I hadn’t seen her in a long time – it was kind of a shock.’

  ‘I get it.’

  ‘No, I hate myself. You’re – at least you were – my girlfriend, and she isn’t, and I don’t know what I was thinking not sending her straight away.’

  ‘I was pretty angry.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘But I’m sorry for taking things too far and yelling at you so quickly.’

  ‘You don’t have to apologise.’

  ‘Of course I do,’ I said. ‘I jumped to conclusions and screeched at you without even giving you a chance to explain. My emotions have been pretty high over the last week, what with work, and you.’

  ‘I made your emotions high?’

  ‘In a good way. An unexpected – but good – way. I think you opened my eyes to the prospect of a new adventure, and then suddenly it felt like it was all ripped away.’

  ‘I still should have been a bit more open with you. It’s just, I felt like our time here was so limited, so precious, that I didn’t want to waste it dragging up all these miserable old memories.’

  I popped in another piece of chocolate. ‘So we’re both a bit silly.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘In that case, I have a question for you.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Can I be your girlfriend again?’

  Let’s just take a moment to think about what a massive deal it was for me to say this. In the past two weeks I’d gone from not wanting a boyfriend, to finding someone in an unexpected place, to reluctantly agreeing to be a girlfriend, to asking someone outright if I can be their girlfriend. I was proud of myself. I never thought something boyfriend/girlfriend related could make me say that, but it was
true.

  Jamie stood up and walked around the table, stopping in front of me. He bent down, smiled that smile and before he had a chance to kiss me I tilted my head up and kissed him. Then the chair couldn’t hold me any longer and I leapt up, squeezing myself into his arms, allowing his fingers to run through my hair and for mine to glide over his sculpted arms.

  You can guess what happened next. Well, it was our last night.

  It was at least witching hour when we lay in his bed, the window open and a soft breeze tickling our bodies. The moon was as bright white as a ball of mozzarella and it meant I could follow my fingers as they traced their way around his chest.

  ‘So,’ he said. ‘Let’s talk about my parents.’

  ‘What a great idea.’ I pulled the sheet over my naked breasts.

  ‘I actually have a message from them that I promised I would pass on. They wanted to do it but I said no, she’s my girl, I want to.’

  A smile soaked over my face. My man.

  ‘Do you know that, thanks to all of your marketing magic, You Had Me at Merlot has now had over forty new bookings? Just in the last couple of days. That’s a huge rise, and it’s because of you.’

  ‘Really? That’s so cool.’

  ‘It’s the coolest. We’ve held off the supermarkets, at least for now.’

  ‘It’s actually because of all of you, though. I just lent you a little brainpower.’

  ‘No, we need you.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘More than you know. So we would like to formally offer you a job.’

  I sat up. ‘What?’

  ‘I’m not just saying this because George offered you one, and I’m not just saying this because I totally want you to stay, but we all know you’d be invaluable. We probably can’t pay you your London salary, but it wouldn’t be bad, especially if business keeps going like this, and you’d have free room and board. That means living with me, or in your own room with a bathtub.’

  It was what I wanted, handed to me on a plate. I was so lucky. But this was still a huge decision and I didn’t know if I could make it right now. I looked down at him, lying there, and imagined what it would be like to be next to him every night. I imagined it would be really good.