Thinking of You

by Jill Mansell

  Good heavens, she hadn’t been expecting that. Ginny said with bemusement, “Why? What was it like being married to her?”

  Martin’s mouth curled up at the corners. Behind his steel-rimmed spectacles his eyes glinted with amusement. “Believe me, if you’d ever met Monica, you wouldn’t need to ask.”

  ***

  “Monica’s husband. Poor man,” Ginny said with feeling. “No wonder he was glad to be out.”

  “Did you tell him she’d been here?”

  Ginny nodded as she sloshed wine into two glasses up to the brim and handed one to Gavin. “He said, whatever you do, don’t let her move in. She’d drive you demented.”

  “But you aren’t going to be asking him to move in either. So that’s it.” Gavin shrugged. “You’ve seen all three and none of them fitted the bill. What happens now?”

  “Re-advertise I suppose. Try again. Hope for better luck next time.” Ginny made headway into her much-needed glass of wine, more disappointed than she cared to let on by the events of this evening. She had been so looking forward to meeting someone lovely, the two of them hitting it off from the word go. Now she knew how naive she’d been and the sense of disappointment was crushing. What if she kept on advertising and no one suitable ever turned up?

  By eight o’clock they had finished the bottle and Gavin was preparing to leave when the phone rang.

  “Hi,” said a warm male voice, “I’m calling about the house-share. Is it still going, or have you found someone now?”

  It was more than a warm voice; it was a gorgeous voice, the kind that made you think the owner had to be gorgeous too. Wondering if maybe all might not be lost after all, Ginny said, “No, it’s still free.”

  “Fantastic. Now it says here in the ad that you’d prefer a female…”

  “Either. Really, I don’t mind.”

  “As long as it’s someone you can get along with.” He definitely sounded as if he were smiling. “I know, that’s the important thing, isn’t it? My name’s Perry Kennedy by the way. And your house sounds great, just the kind of thing I’m after. How soon could I come around and take a look?”

  Giddy with hope and three hastily downed glasses of wine, Ginny said recklessly, “Well, whereabouts are you? If you want to, you can come around now.”

  Having expected so much, Ginny was relieved to see when she opened the front door that he wasn’t a troll. Perry Kennedy was six feet tall, with wavy reddish-gold hair, sparkling green eyes, and a dazzling smile. He was also athletically built and wearing a dark casual jacket over a white shirt and jeans.

  “It’s really good to meet you.” As he shook Ginny’s hand he said, “I’ve got a great feeling about this place already. Hey, I love the way you’ve done the hall.”

  Twenty minutes later they were sitting together in the kitchen chatting away as if they’d known each other for years. Perry’s current flat was too small; it was driving him crazy. He was thirty-five, single but with a great crowd of friends in Portsilver and he loved socializing. A year ago he had moved down from London to Cornwall, selling his flat in Putney and plowing the equity into a T-shirt printing business. He enjoyed jet-skiing and scuba-diving in his spare time. His favorite food was Thai. He drove an old MG and his all-time favorite film was The Color Purple.

  “But I don’t normally admit that to people,” said Perry. “I don’t know why I told you. That film always makes me cry.” He shook his head confidingly. “This could ruin my street cred.”

  “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sobbed my way through The Color Purple,” said Ginny.

  “Yes, but that’s allowed. I’m not supposed to, though, am I? I’m a man.”

  Ginny laughed at the expression on his face. He was perfect.

  “Anyway, I’m taking up too much of your time. The room’s great,” said Perry. “And so are you. What shall I do, then? Leave my number and wonder if I’ll ever hear from you again?”

  Could she ask for anyone better? Ginny raced through everything she knew about him in her mind, searching for flaws and finding none. Perry was charming and brilliant company. OK, he wasn’t a woman and they probably wouldn’t spend a lot of time discussing nail polish, but other than that, were there any drawbacks at all?

  “Or,” said Perry with a smile, “do you think there’s a chance we might have a deal?”

  Three glasses of wine didn’t make the decision for her, but they certainly played their part. Seeing no reason to prevaricate, Ginny threw caution to the wind. Her mind was made up. She beamed at Perry and said, “We have a deal.”

  He looked at her in delight. “You don’t know how much this means to me. It’ll make all the difference in the world. How soon would the room be available?”

  “Whenever you like.” Ginny watched him take out his wallet and count his way through a sheaf of twenty-pound notes.

  “Would Saturday be all right?”

  “Saturday? No problem.”

  “Here, one month’s deposit and the first month’s rent in advance.” Perry pressed the notes into her hand and said cheerfully, “Before you change your mind. And you’ll be wanting references of course. I’ll bring them along on Saturday. Thanks so much for this.” He fixed Ginny with the kind of look that made her insides go wibbly. “I’m so glad I met you tonight.”

  “Me too.” She watched as he rose to his feet and reached for his car keys.

  “I’d better get back. Saturday morning, OK? Elevenish, or is that too hideously early?”

  Ginny shook her head. This was the start of her new life and as far as she was concerned Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. “No problem. Eleven o’clock’s fine.”

  ***

  The trouble with ex-husbands was you could always rely on them to notice things you’d much rather they didn’t.

  And, naturally, to take huge delight in pointing it out.

  “Ha!” Gavin pointed a triumphant finger at her as he came down the stairs.

  Ginny was determined to bluff it out. “What?”

  “You fancy him.”

  “I do not.”

  “Oh yes you do. You fancy the pants off him. And you’re going red.”

  “Only because you think that,” Ginny protested. “Not because it’s true.”

  “I don’t think it, I know it. I heard you.” Smirking, he launched into a wickedly accurate imitation of her, repeating random overheard phrases punctuated with girlish giggles and slightly too loud laughter.

  Why couldn’t she have an ex-husband who lived five hundred miles away? Or in Australia? Australia would be good.

  “You were eavesdropping.” Ginny curled her lip accusingly to let him know how she felt about such low behavior.

  “I was making sure you were safe. It was my job to listen to what was going on. Fine chaperone I’d be,” Gavin remarked, “if I sat upstairs with my Walkman clamped over my ears. You could be screaming your head off and I wouldn’t hear a thing. I’d come down to the kitchen just in time to see him stuffing the last bits of you down the waste disposal. Then you’d be sorry.”

  “Anyway, he’s moving in on Saturday.” Ginny was defiant. “And I don’t fancy him, OK? He just seems really nice and we get on well together, that’s all.”

  “Hmm.” Gavin raised a playful eyebrow. “Very well indeed, by the sound of things. Good-looking, is he?”

  “Average,” said Ginny. “Better looking than the other three that came round here tonight. Four, actually.” To get her own back she pointed at Gavin. “Including you.”

  He grinned. “This is going to be interesting.”

  Ginny felt a squiggle of excitement. Interesting.

  She hoped so too.

  Chapter 10

  By eleven o’clock on Saturday morning the house was all ready and, as if in celebration, the sun had come out. Perry Kennedy would be here soon. Ginny, working on not sounding as if she fancied him, had been practicing her laugh as she tidied around the kitchen, making sure it didn’t get too loud or high-
pitched. Of course, once Perry had settled in and they became more used to each other, things would hopefully settle down and she’d stop feeling so—

  Oh God, that sounded like him now! Flinging the dishcloth into the sink, Ginny wiped her hands on her jeans and fluffed up her hair. The throaty roar of a sports car outside died as the engine was switched off. She went to the front door and opened it.

  “Hi there.” Perry was already out of the car and waving at her. Today he was wearing a dark blue sweater, cream jeans, and Timberlands.

  “Hi!” Ginny watched as the passenger door opened to reveal a slender woman with a mass of long, red-gold curls and pale, freckled skin. She was staggeringly beautiful and wore a long black coat falling open to reveal a pale gray top and trousers beneath.

  “This is Laurel.” Perry ushered the slender woman toward Ginny. “My sister.”

  Oh, phew, of course she was. All that incredible red-gold hair—what a relief.

  “Hi, Laurel, nice to meet you.” Ginny shook her hand with enthusiasm.

  Tonelessly, Laurel said, “Hello.”

  “Come on then, let’s get this lot upstairs.” Already busy unloading the MG’s tiny boot, Perry said, “Laurel, you take these. I’ll bring the rest of the bags.”

  “Give some to me.” Keen to help, Ginny held out her arms. “I can carry those.”

  Perry looked across at Laurel and said, “See what I mean? Didn’t I tell you how great she was?”

  Ginny flushed with pleasure. She’d done the right thing.

  Laurel nodded. “You did.”

  Once all the bags and cases had been taken up to the spare room, Ginny left them to it. In the kitchen she boiled the kettle and began making tea. After a couple of minutes, Perry rejoined her.

  “Don’t bother with tea.”

  “No? Would you prefer coffee?”

  He shook his head and produced the bottle he’d been concealing behind his back.

  “Woo, champagne. On a Saturday morning!” And Veuve Cliquot at that, none of your old rubbish.

  “The very best time to drink it. Quick, glasses,” said Perry as the cork rocketed out and bounced off the ceiling.

  “Well, cheers.” Ginny clinked her glass against his; he’d only filled two of the three she’d set out. “Isn’t Laurel having any?”

  “Laurel doesn’t drink. Cheers. Here’s to you.”

  If Gavin were here now, he would tell her that replying “here’s to both of us” would be flirty beyond belief. So Ginny didn’t; she just smiled instead and took a demure sip of the champagne. As they heard the sound of furniture being moved around in the bedroom overhead, she said, “What’s Laurel doing? Doesn’t she want to join us?”

  “She’s fine, best to leave her to get on with it.” Perry’s eyes sparkled. “She’s just rearranging the room, getting her things unpacked. You know how it is.”

  “Sorry?” Ginny thought she must have misheard.

  “What?”

  Or it had been a slip of the tongue. Of course, that was it. Ginny smiled. “You just said she was getting her things unpacked.”

  Perry nodded. “Yes.”

  OK, hang on, had she fallen into some kind of parallel universe here? Her heart beginning to thump unpleasantly, Ginny said, “But… why would she be unpacking her things? She isn’t the one moving in. I’ve rented the room to you.”

  Perry looked at her. “God, I’m sorry, is that what you thought? No, no, the room’s not for me. It’s for Laurel.”

  This couldn’t be happening.

  “But you were the one who came to see it! You said it was just what you were looking for!” Her voice rising—and not in an I-fancy-you way—Ginny said, “You said it was perfect!”

  He blinked, nonplussed. “It is perfect. For Laurel.”

  Frantically, Ginny ran back through everything he’d told her. “No, hang on, you said your flat was too small…”

  “It is too small. I mean, it’s all right for me on my own,” Perry explained, “but it’s definitely a squash for two. Laurel moved in six weeks ago and, to be honest, it’s been doing my head in.”

  Doing your head in! What do you suppose this is doing to my head? Still in a state of shock, Ginny repeated, “B-but I rented the room to you.”

  “I know you did. That’s right. I paid the deposit and I’ll be paying the rent,” said Perry. “No need to worry about that. I’ll set up a direct debit. Really, everything’s going to be fine.”

  Fine? How could it be? Ginny’s head was about to explode.

  “You made me think it was you! You never once mentioned your sister. You knew I thought it was you.”

  Perry spread his arms. “Honestly, I didn’t.”

  “But the whole point of interviewing people when they come to look at the room is so that you can decide whether you want to share your house with them!”

  “Is it?” Perry looked genuinely bewildered. “I didn’t realize.” He paused, then said eagerly, “But it doesn’t matter, because you won’t have any problems with Laurel. As soon as I met you, I knew the two of you would get on brilliantly. You’re just the kind of person Laurel needs.”

  What?

  What?

  Ginny wanted to yell, “This isn’t about what somebody else needs, you idiot; it’s about what I need.”

  “Oh, and I’ve brought the references. You don’t have anything to worry about with Laurel.” Perry withdrew a couple of envelopes from his pocket. “She’s honest, tidy, considerate—everything you could want in a housemate.”

  This was all going so desperately, horribly wrong that Ginny was struggling to think straight. She wished Gavin could be here to back her up because right now she appeared to be the only one who thought there was anything amiss. Except if Gavin were here, he’d be too busy laughing his socks off at the mess she’d managed to get herself into. Ha, that was what happened when you got carried away and were silly enough to think someone might actually find you attractive.

  “Besides,” Perry went on, “you did advertise for a female to share with. That was what you really wanted.”

  “So why didn’t Laurel phone up the other night? Why didn’t she come round to see the house herself?”

  He sighed and refilled his glass with champagne. Offered the bottle to Ginny, who shook her head.

  “Laurel was happy to carry on sleeping on my sofa. Finding somewhere else to live wasn’t a priority as far as she was concerned. To be honest she’s been a bit down lately. She broke up with her boyfriend last summer and things haven’t been easy for her since then. She lost her job in London. Her ex-boyfriend met someone else and got engaged, which didn’t help. Laurel was pretty fed up. I told her she should move out of the city and the next thing I knew, she’d turned up on my doorstep.” Perry paused, shrugged. “Well, it was fine for a few days. It was great to see her again. Except she’s decided she wants to stay in Portsilver now and my flat really isn’t big enough for the two of us.”

  “So move to a bigger flat.”

  “Oh, Ginny, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring this on you. But I’m used to living on my own. I like my own space. And when I met you, I just thought how fantastic you were, so chatty and bubbly, and I knew you’d be perfect for Laurel. Sharing a house with you is just what she needs to perk her up again.”

  Ginny shook her head. This wasn’t supposed to be happening; it wasn’t what she wanted. And she was going to have to tell him.

  “The thing is, I—”

  “Look, you’ll have a great time with Laurel.” Perry gazed at her. “And much as I’d like to be the one moving in here, that could never happen.”

  “Why couldn’t it?” Ginny rubbed her aching temples; she didn’t understand why not.

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Come on, you must know the answer to that one. You’re gorgeous. How could I live in this house when I fancy the landlady rotten? That would be… God, that would be impossible.”

  Oh. Ginny hadn’t been expecting this. Talk
about a bolt from the blue. So he did find her attractive.

  “Sorry, was that a bit sudden?” Perry’s smile was rueful. “Have I scared you witless?”

  “No, no…”

  “I’m usually a bit more subtle. But you did ask. If I’m honest, I’ve been sitting here wondering if you’d consider coming out to dinner with me next week. But who knows if I’ll have the courage to ask you?” He pulled a wry face and said, “It’s a scary thing, you know, being a man. We always have to run the risk of inviting someone out and being turned down flat. You women don’t realize how fragile our egos are.”

  Ginny was lost for words. As she was floundering for a reply, they both heard footsteps on the stairs. The next moment the door had swung open and Laurel entered the kitchen.

  “I’ve unpacked.”

  “Great.” Perry beamed at her. “Well, that didn’t take too long, did it? Good girl.”

  Oh hell. Ginny took another gulp of champagne and found herself unable to meet Laurel’s eye. If she was going to say something it had to be now, this minute. But how could she say it? How could she tell Laurel that she wasn’t moving in after all, that she should get back upstairs and start repacking all her things?

  “Is something wrong?” said Laurel.

  Her heart beginning to gallop, Ginny mentally rehearsed telling her that there had been a terrible mistake, that she couldn’t stay here because… well, because… um, because…

  “Perry? What’s going on?”

  Perry looked at Laurel and shrugged.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Ginny blurted out, “but I didn’t realize you were the one who’d be moving in. There’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here. I thought your brother was the one looking for a room.”

  Laurel frowned. “No. He’s already got his flat.”

  “Well, I know that now.” Her knuckles white, Ginny exclaimed, “But he didn’t mention it before.”

  Laurel gazed steadily at her. “So what are you saying?”

  Oh God, what was she saying? In a complete flap now, Ginny felt the heat rushing back to her face. She was British, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t in her nature to deliberately hurt another person’s feelings. If she didn’t have Laurel, she’d have to go through the whole advertising-and-interviewing rigmarole all over again and who was to say she’d get anyone better next time round? Plus, Perry fancied her anyway and was going to invite her out to dinner. Which was good news and almost better, in a way, than—