How to Get a (Love) Life
Page 23
‘—No, I should’ve thought, just bursting in on you.’ He looked at me, his face fixed in a frown. ‘I misunderstood.’ He started back down the stairs.
Mark appeared in the doorway, looping an arm around my shoulders.
‘Hey,’ he said looking at James.
James paused in his descent, turned back to see Mark and I in the doorway, and continued quickly down the stairs, muttering a last apology as he went.
‘James—’ I called, but he’d already gone.
‘What was that all about?’ asked Mark, eyeing me as I clutched my chisel and chocolate.
I swallowed heavily, my throat dry. ‘Nothing. It was nothing,’ I said, pushing the door firmly closed.
Later that evening when Mark had gone and the Maltesers had been eaten, I admitted defeat. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day and I had not been able to find the perfect man. My stomach churned, and in a flurry of activity I grabbed my laptop and typed something into Google. I wouldn’t be alone on Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t face it. I needed to take drastic action. In a rash click of buttons, the uploading of my payment details, and a gulp, I had done it: I was going on a Singles Holiday.
I picked up the phone and dialled Caroline’s number, explaining to her voicemail that I wouldn’t be in work after all tomorrow. Then, in a babble, I recounted my latest hasty holiday-booking action. I wanted her to know that I hadn’t given up. I wanted her to know that the dare had changed me. Had coloured in my life. As I made a quick goodbye on her machine and hung up, I wondered briefly whether I would continue in that job. I loved it, but how on earth would I cope with seeing him every day?
I shook myself to rid my head of the thought and pulled down my suitcase. Sliding the door of the wardrobe across, I stared at my clothes. Right. What outfit would best suit a girl on a Singles Holiday?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The slow, steady patter of rain seemed to reflect the bleak mood I found myself in as I took a cab to the airport the next morning and lugged my suitcase into the ‘Departures’ area. My heart felt as heavy as the bag I was struggling with as I looked around the terminal at all the couples and families leaving on their holidays. How had it come to this? Could anyone be this depressed on their way to a holiday in Crete? Should I turn back? Immediately, I pictured work and James’ face and realised I couldn’t.
The queue to the check-in desk seemed to snake around the entire building and I stood listlessly as we moved forward inch by inch. A tap on the shoulder and I was acquainted with a girl wearing an orange vest-top and pink patent stilettos.
‘You going too, eh?’
My head must have nodded because she replied, ‘Sick! Me too!’ and then pointed at her luggage. ‘Packing light as ever. Ha ha.’
I zoned out while the queue moved forward, offering vague responses as Overly Bright Airport Girl continued to try and make conversation. I attempted to cheer myself up with the thought that I was off on a holiday. Come on Nicola, there will be sunshine and loungers.
‘You know, I’ve been on three of these holidays and I’ve always pulled.’ She paused to stretch a bit of the gum out before rolling it back in her mouth. ‘Shagged one guy for the whole week last time and then he got picked up at the airport by his wife. Awks.’
She smiled at me. It was my line.
‘That’s terrible,’ I said.
‘Yeah, whatevs. I ’spose it just wasn’t meant to be. Better than the 2011 guy who was super clingy. I had to be all, like, “Hellooo, back off, I am totes not into back hair.”’
Me again: ‘Er …’
‘Soooo, you hoping to meet a fella?’
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words stuck in my throat. I wondered again what I was doing in this queue of people: how had my life come to this?
‘Your first time?’ Her head cocked to one side.
‘Yes,’ I confirmed, as the gorgeously tanned woman behind the check-in desk beckoned me over. I approached and slid my passport over the counter. Overly Bright Airport Girl stayed fixed at my shoulder. I waited for Check-In Woman to shoo her back into the queue, but it was clearly assumed we were travelling together because Check-In Woman took her passport too. I turned to Overly Bright Airport Girl and said with a gulp: ‘It’s … my first singles holiday.’
She squeaked at my announcement, her glossy pink mouth a big ‘Ooh’ of pleasure. A tall man in the queue next door sniggered.
I coughed and continued. ‘Yes. I am a single woman who is deliberately going on this holiday with the hope of meeting someone who will love me.’
Check-In Woman looped a sticker through the handle of my suitcase and raised one neatly pencilled eyebrow. Arms wide, I turned to the rest of the airport. ‘It is my first ever, ever time on a singles holiday,’ I cried. ‘I booked it last night because it seemed like the right thing to do. I just needed to … I wanted to, you know … um …’ I trailed off idiotically, watching as my suitcase juddered along the luggage belt and out of sight.
In the distance I thought I heard someone calling my name and in that moment my heart soared. I whipped around – hair flicking across my face in my haste – and scanned the crowds hopefully …
Nope.
Nothing.
I’d imagined it. My stomach lurched.
Overly Bright Airport Girl slung her meaty arm around my shoulders.
‘We should totes sit together on the flight. I’ll show you my holiday pictures from last year. I’ve got them all on my phone. All of them.’
I sniffed, nodded once. ‘Great.’
Nicola Brown, how the hell did you end up here?
The sticker was on and the suitcase was about to make its bumpy journey out of sight when, once more, I thought I heard a voice call my name. I frowned and looked over my shoulder but saw only Overly Bright Airport Girl. I was just about to burst into tears, when I heard my name again, closer this time, and from the corner of my eye noticed someone waving. A man, a tall man, a man I recognised, waving at me and yelling my name repeatedly. It was James. Warmth flooded through me, and with my mouth hanging open, I did a half-wave back.
‘Sorry, hold on, I, well I …’
Suddenly, I seized my bag and hauled it off the scales, wheeled it around and pushed backwards through the queue of people. There was swearing and Check-In Woman was calling something after me, but all I knew was that I had to get out of that line. My heart lifted in hopeful anticipation. It was a long way to travel to the airport, and he’d have had to go through the business of parking and walking to ‘Departures’, which was a long way from the car park and, well, he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t really, really want to see me, would he?
I stopped in my tracks. Maybe he was just taking a business flight somewhere and caught sight of me and waved hello? Worse, maybe he and Thalia were off on some kind of week-long sex trip in the sun. I looked up, scanning the crowds for James again. It occurred to me then that maybe I was hallucinating him. Was I so desperate that I’d conjured him up, in the airport, waving at me, just like in a scene out of Love Actually? Oh my God, how foolish. I was running towards a mirage, like a thirsty woman in a desert. I buried my head into my hands.
‘Nicola.’
I looked up, and he was definitely there, waving at me.
I tried to compose myself, tried to look nonchalant and like this situation was normal. I failed completely. As he pushed through the crowds and drew up right by me I guessed that I resembled a startled rabbit in the headlights; staring eyes, frozen and unable to move. James reached out a hand to me, before pulling it back.
‘Don’t go,’ he said.
I didn’t know what to say, so I stood there dumbly.
‘It’s not, I need to explain,’ James continued. ‘The thing is …’
I’d never seen him like this, tongue-tied, awkward. I felt my insides growing warm and then admonished myself internally, reminding my brain that he was going out with Thalia and had no interest in me whatsoever.
‘Thalia s
hould never have said those things,’ he said.
‘How do you know what she said?’ I frowned.
‘I asked her.’
He was here to apologise for her rudeness?
I nodded. ‘Well, thank you. But I can look after myself.’
‘No, I know that Nic. But, you see, she shouldn’t have said those things because they are totally untrue. Thalia and I haven’t been seeing each other for months. She became so difficult before Christmas, pretending her mother was ill so she could stay on in the apartment, lying to me again and again about things. Turning up uninvited. It’s completely over.’
James took a step closer, he took my hand.
‘So … you’re free?’ I checked.
‘That’s what I came to tell you yesterday, in case, well, in case you were interested. And then I saw the man – who Caroline has since told me was your brother, but who, at the time, I thought was … you know … your boyfriend, or …’
I looked up into James’ face. His lovely, kind, open face and I smiled fully, deeply, for the first time in a while.
‘So, you came to tell me that you’re not seeing anyone, in case I was interested?’ I asked.
‘Exactly. Caroline told me what you were doing and I just couldn’t let you go without telling you, so I … I made a mad dash for the airport. And here I am.’
‘To tell me you are currently available?’ I clarified.
‘Well, actually I was hoping to go on holiday with my new girlfriend,’ he said, drawing me closer towards him.
‘Oh really!’ I laughed, my whole body feeling light and ridiculous, like if he let me go I would soar towards the ceiling.
‘We are at the airport.’ He shrugged. ‘It would be rude not to.’ He steered me round to face the Departures Board. ‘So, where do you fancy?’
I leant back into him and his arms encircled me.
‘I’ve never been to Florence before.’
‘Neither have I.’
He took my hand and walked me over to the tickets desk. ‘Two tickets to Florence please.’ He slid a credit card across. ‘And we’d like to travel first class.’
As the tickets printed, James grinned at me like a child. He squeezed me close. I snuggled into him.
‘Hey,’ he pulled back and grinned at me. ‘You know it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow?’
‘I do.’
He nodded. ‘Well, I did want to wait until we got somewhere a little more, well, private, but I just can’t help myself.’
And, ever so slowly, he leant his head down to me. As my arms wrapped around his neck, our lips met and we had our first amazing kiss.
THE END
Acknowledgements
This is going to get gushy. I can tell.
Firstly to some lovely ladies who agreed to read early drafts of the book and give me some invaluable feedback – Rachel Hawes and Amanda Murphy – thank you for your time and generosity. And to Richard Campbell, my new writing buddy, for an inspiring edit sesh over Skype. Another thank you to some friends who shall remain anonymous (Olivia Solon) for their disastrous date stories. We feel your pain and can comfort you with the thought that at least they make great book fodder.
It has been an absolute blast to be part of Novelicious Books and I don’t think I could have enjoyed the process more. Thank you to Louise for her eagle eye and her encouraging edit notes. To Jade for proofreading so well (I was going to leave out an ‘o’ and make a proofreading joke but I imagine she would be tempted to fix it). And of course to Kerry for being a total pleasure to work with and for getting me into cool magazines and blogs yo.
An enormous squishy hug style thank you to Kirsty at Novelicious for first believing in this book. For her hilarious emails, edit notes and energy. And to Edd for his incredible work on the cover, website and all things super techie.
A huge thanks to the whole team at Darley Anderson for the support – it is such a fantastic agency. Particular thanks to Mary for her enthusiasm and time in drumming up foreign rights interest, for Sheila David for trying to land me a movie deal (*chants “GO SHEILA YOU CAN DO IT I BELIEVE IN YOU”*) and, of course, to my amazing agent Clare who has simply been the best agent I could have wished for. She would have corrected that sentence.
This book is dedicated to my parents for always making me believe anything is possible. For Daddy – I hope there aren’t too many split infinitives and to my own Ma ‘Basia’ for reading eighteen versions of the manuscript and who is as chirpy as her namesake in the novel. To my sisters and brother for the bants – well done team I hope you LOL big time – and lastly to my ever-patient husband, Ben. It is really not easy living with someone with a full-time job and a full-time obsession and he is brilliant at not getting at me when the house hasn’t been unpacked and there is no food in the fridge. Or any of the cupboards. Love you all big time. Huge.
And of course lastly to the many book bloggers, other authors and readers who have contacted me or tweeted me, retweeted me and generally roused such enthusiasm. My online buddies have been fantastic – you really are an incredible bunch of big-hearted, bookish nerds.
About the Author
Rosie spent her university years writing pantomimes based on old classics. The 2003 production of The Wizard of Odd: Search for the Ruby Strippers enjoyed critical acclaim. This was followed a year later with a successful showing of Harry Potter: The Musical (complete with moving opening number, ‘In my Cupboard I will Stay’).
Rosie went on to write a winning short story in the La Senza/Little Black Dress Short Story Competition and was shortlisted in a few others including the ‘Women and Home’ annual competition and the Daily Mail ‘Opening Paragraph’ Competition. She started writing novels and after some false starts, and horrendous jobs that she wishes to keep a closely guarded secret (or write about in the future), Rosie wrote How to Get a (Love) Life.
Connect with Rosie on Twitter @RosieBBooks and on Facebook at RosieBBooks. You can also visit her website at www.rosieblake.co.uk
About the Publisher
Novelicious Books is a brand new digital publisher for brilliant women’s fiction, brought to you by the team behind the popular female fiction website, Novelicious.com. Find out more at:
www.noveliciousbooks.com
Novelicious is a bright and passionate website dedicated to Women’s Fiction readers, writers and aspiring writers. Whatever your women’s fiction tastes, for up to date news, reviews, exclusive author interviews, writing tips and competitions, visit us at:
www.novelicious.com
Published 2014 by Novelicious Books
an imprint of Novelicious Books Ltd
10 Wall Hill Cottages, Dobcross, Oldham, OL3 5BN
www.noveliciousbooks.com
HOW TO GET A (LOVE) LIFE
ISBN 9781910014035 eBook-Mobi
Copyright © Rosie Blake 2014
All Rights Reserved
The right of Rosie Blake to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to events, locales and to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent publisher.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Disclaimer
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Fou
r
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Acknowledgements
About the Author
About the Publisher
Copyright