Thinking of You

by Jill Mansell

  “Great.” Carla appeared to have other things on her mind. “Um, so you’ll be here in an hour?”

  Ginny checked her watch. “By four o’clock, I promise. I wish you’d tell me what this is about.”

  “When I see you.”

  She definitely wasn’t sounding like herself. Catching Finn’s eye, Ginny said, “Carla, have you done something naughty?”

  Another pause.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me!”

  “I can’t,” said Carla.

  Ginny put the phone back in her pocket. “Carla’s being mysterious.”

  “You’d better get off then. We’ll see you tonight.”

  “Eight o’clock.” Ginny beamed. “I can’t wait for you to meet Jem.”

  “And she’ll be meeting Perry as well. What if she doesn’t like him?”

  Was that a dig? Honestly, just because Perry had made one innocent, off-the-cuff remark about children and fatherhood. Couldn’t he just be happy for her?

  “She’ll love him,” Ginny said firmly.

  Finn shrugged. “She might not.”

  “Two things. One, I know my daughter. And two”—her eyes danced because today of all days nothing was going to dampen her mood—“don’t be such a pessimist.”

  Chapter 27

  “Right, I’m here. Tell me what’s going on.” The moment Carla opened the front door, Ginny threw her arms round her. It wasn’t until she’d been driving back from the shops that it had occurred to her that Carla might be ill. She had asked jokily if she’d done something naughty and Carla had soberly agreed that she had. But what if she was referring to the fact that last year a letter had arrived in the post reminding her that her next cervical smear test was due, and work had been so hectic that she hadn’t got around to making the appointment?

  The moment this possibility had lodged itself in Ginny’s brain she hadn’t been able to think of anything else. And now Carla wasn’t hugging her back, she was standing woodenly with—Ginny now saw—tears swimming in her eyes.

  “Oh my God.” Ginny gazed at her in horror, a sensation like wet cement settling in the pit of her stomach. Barely able to speak, she clutched Carla’s hands tightly and felt her throat tighten with fear. “Is it… is it cancer?”

  Carla abruptly turned away, heading for the kitchen.

  “It’s not cancer.”

  Oh.

  “Well, that’s a relief.” Following her, Ginny exhaled noisily and patted her heaving chest. Then, to be on the ultra-safe side, she said, “So it’s not any kind of illness?”

  “No.”

  Now she was truly relieved. “Because you can’t imagine what’s been going through my mind.”

  “Ginny, I’m not sick.” Carla turned to face her, and there was that weird edge to her voice again.

  “Has someone died?”

  Carla’s perfectly symmetrical bob swung from side to side as she shook her head, but her lips stayed pressed together.

  “Then you have to help me out here,” said Ginny, “because I just don’t know what this is about. I have no idea.”

  “I know you don’t,” said Carla.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Why are you saying it like that?”

  “Ginny, you mean the world to me. You’re my best friend and I never wanted to hurt you.” Carla gripped the edge of the granite worktop behind her as the words came out in a rush. “Believe me, I never wanted to have to do this. But it’s Perry. He’s seeing someone else.”

  The kitchen was silent; it felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air. Carla couldn’t bring herself to say the rest of it just yet. One bombshell at a time. Her fingernails ached from gripping the worktop. This was hell, but it had to be done. Ginny was gazing at her, clearly lost for words and as shell-shocked as she had every right to be. God knows, she—oh, that bloody phone.

  But when Carla looked at the bloody phone and saw who was calling, she knew she had to answer it.

  “Hi, it’s me. Listen, I’ll be back by midnight at the latest,” said Perry. “Wait for me at the flat.”

  “Actually, I’m at home. Ginny’s here.”

  “Really?” He sounded impressed. “I thought you’d been keeping out of her way.”

  “Not anymore.” Carla paused, heard her own voice echoing weirdly in her ears. “I’ve just told her.”

  “What? You’re not serious! About us?”

  “Yes.” Well, near as dammit. She was about to.

  “Jesus Christ, what have you done?” shouted Perry. “I told you not to say anything!”

  And where would that have got them? It was a job that needed to be done. Evenly, Carla said, “Well, I have.”

  She switched off the phone. Ginny was staring at her, her eyes huge.

  “Who was that?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Was it Perry? What’s going on? OK, so you saw him with someone.” Ginny shook her head in bewilderment. “But maybe you got it wrong, made a mistake.”

  “I’m not wrong.”

  “So he admitted it? You know he’s definitely seeing someone else? What a bastard.” Her hands trembling, Ginny reached for a glass and ran cold water into it from the tap. “When did you find out? Where did you see them? Damn, I really liked him too.” The glass clunked audibly against her teeth as she gulped down half the water in one go. “Why can’t anything ever go right for me? Do you know, I really thought we had something. And it turns out he’s just another filthy rotten cheat after all. Oh no, poor you.”

  “What? Why?” It was Carla’s turn to be confused.

  “Having to be the one to tell me. I bet you’ve been dreading it.” Ginny’s lopsided smile failed to conceal her disappointment. “It’s always horrible being the bearer of bad news. But I’m glad you told me, really I am. Don’t worry, I won’t shoot the messenger!”

  Carla couldn’t speak. The last few precious seconds of their friendship were ticking away. There was an unexploded bomb right here in the kitchen and any moment now she was going to press the detonator.

  “So did you actually see her?” Needing information, Ginny said, “I suppose she’s younger than me. What does she look like?” Only a couple of seconds left now. Carla’s mouth was so dry she could hardly speak. “She looks… well, she looks like me.”

  “Complete opposite of me then. I might have guessed.” Surveying her reflection in the window and running her fingers disparagingly through her tousled Goldie Hawn hair, Ginny said, “Nature’s way of telling you it’s time you went to the hairdresser.” Then she patted her gently rounded stomach. “And possibly had a go at a few sit-ups.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.” Carla couldn’t bear to see her running herself down. Fiercely, she said, “You’re warm, funny, beautiful—”

  “But not good enough for Perry, because he prefers someone who looks like you.”

  Carla’s finger had been hovering over the detonator button for what felt like hours. She didn’t have to do this; she could carry on seeing Perry in secret.

  No, she couldn’t. That would be deceitful.

  She could stop seeing Perry. No, she couldn’t. That would be impossible.

  She could… she could…

  No, she couldn’t.

  Carla pressed the detonator. “It’s me.”

  “What’s you?”

  “Perry prefers me. I’m the one he’s been seeing. And I’m so sorry,” Carla blurted out. “I hate myself; I can’t believe this has happened. But it has. And you’re my best friend,” she pleaded. “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, but I’ve never felt like this about anyone before… I met Perry and it was just… well, like an earthquake or something. If I could have stopped it, I would. But I just couldn’t…” She ground to a halt, nauseous and mortified, her fists clenched in anguish. Forcing herself to meet Ginny’s gaze, she whispered helplessly, “And I’m so, so sorry.”

  Ginny felt as if she was watching a film, one with a twist she hadn’t
been expecting, the kind that takes your breath away and leaves you wondering what on earth will happen next. Carla’s face was chalk-white, taut with strain. She had said what she’d clearly planned to say. She was like a stranger or a character in Doctor Who peeling off her face to reveal the robot beneath. Because one thing was for sure, this was no longer the Carla she’d known and loved and trusted for the last fifteen years.

  “You wouldn’t hurt me for the world?” Ginny was privately amazed she could still speak. “I’m your best friend?” Her voice rose. “Well, that’s fascinating. If this is how you treat your best friend, I’d hate to see what you do to your enemies.”

  Carla flinched. “I’m sorry.”

  “Will you stop saying you’re sorry? It doesn’t mean anything! If you were really sorry, you’d never have started seeing Perry behind my back, would you? You would have said thanks but no thanks, like any normal friend, and walked away. It’s called loyalty.” Ginny shook her head in disgust.

  “I know and I wanted to do that. Believe me, I did. But I couldn’t. I love him,” pleaded Carla. “And he loves me. Sometimes these things just happen.” As she said it, they both heard the sound of a sports car screeching to a halt outside. A door slammed and footsteps raced up the path. The doorbell rang.

  “Prince Charming, I presume. Riding to the rescue. How sweet.” Ginny’s heart was hammering against her rib cage. “How masterful. I suppose you’ve been sleeping with him.”

  “Of course I’ve been sleeping with him.” Carla went to get the door. “It’s what normal couples do.”

  The knife twisted in her stomach. With a jolt of pain, Ginny realized she was right. All that so-called gentlemanly stuff about wanting to take things slowly and get to know her properly first hadn’t been romantic after all. It had just been… bullshit.

  And here he was, the bullshitter himself, bursting into the immaculate kitchen with a wild look in his eyes and his hair uncombed.

  Suddenly he wasn’t looking quite so irresistible anymore.

  Which, under the circumstances, was handy.

  “I’m sorry. Ginny, I’m so sorry.”

  Oh, for crying out loud, not that again.

  “You’re a wonderful person,” Perry went on, “and I wouldn’t hurt you for the world…”

  And that.

  “This is getting repetitive,” said Ginny.

  “But I wouldn’t, I swear to God. I never expected anything like this to happen. Neither of us did. But… it has.” Perry’s hands fell to his sides, signaling defeat. “It was a… a coup de foudre.”

  “Right.” Ginny fantasized about seizing the heavy glass fruit bowl and hurling it at his head.

  “It means love at first sight,” Perry added.

  Patronizing bastard. He thought she was gullible and dim.

  “Actually, it doesn’t,” said Ginny. “It means struck by lightning.” Struck by lightning, struck by a heavy glass fruit bowl, she didn’t mind which.

  “Anyway. We love each other. You weren’t supposed to find out like this but—”

  “From the look of things you didn’t want me to find out at all.” Leaving Carla out of it for now, Ginny concentrated all her attention on Perry. “How long has it been going on?”

  “Since that night at the Carson Hotel. We couldn’t help ourselves. Took one look at each other and that was it. We just knew.”

  “How lovely. Very romantic. So did you shag her in the toilets or in the bushes outside?”

  “I didn’t.” Perry frowned, offended. “I was with you.”

  “OK, the next night then. Carla isn’t the type to hang about.” From the expressions on their faces she’d guessed right. For good measure, Ginny said, “Although you’re a damn sight older than the ones she usually goes for.”

  “I’m sorry,” Perry said again. “And I know this has come as a shock to you, but I hope we can still be friends.”

  It was the pleading, let’s-be-reasonable tone of voice he used that confirmed what Ginny had already suspected. Perry Kennedy had fooled her from the word go, manufacturing a relationship purely in order to offload his sister into her care. As if Laurel were a bin bag of old clothes and Ginny was his local branch of Oxfam.

  And now, from the look of him, he was terrified she was going to give the bin bag back.

  Interestingly, Ginny found she was able to separate out her emotions, like sorting knives, forks, and spoons into a cutlery drawer.

  Humiliation because she’d thought he liked her and he didn’t.

  Anger because Jem was on her way home and today was supposed to be such a happy day.

  Humiliation again because the three of them were booked into Penhaligon’s and she had boasted so freely to Finn that Jem would love Perry to bits.

  Anger because Perry had regarded her as a pushover. And yet more humiliation because Finn would be hard pushed to hide his amusement when he heard what had happened.

  So that was the spoons and forks accounted for. But what of the knives? Her stomach churning, Ginny realized that they were what Carla had been using to stab her in the back. Because anger didn’t begin to describe how she felt about Carla, her supposed friend. Seething boiling fury was closer to the mark. And this was what hurt more than anything, because being betrayed by your best friend was a million times worse than being betrayed by a man.

  With men, sooner or later you kind of deep down expected it.

  Well, Carla and Perry were welcome to each other. More than welcome. And—how sweet—Carla was getting herself a ready-made family.

  “So do you want to tell Laurel or shall I?”

  Perry was looking nervous. “Tell her what?”

  “Oh, I think you know. You tricked me into taking your sister off your hands in the first place,” said Ginny. “Well, I don’t want her anymore. You can have her back.”

  He blinked rapidly. “Ginny, you can’t—”

  “The three of you can live together. Won’t that be fun?”

  “But she’s happy with you,” Perry pleaded.

  “Irrelevant. Not my problem. Believe me; I’ll be happy when she’s gone.”

  “You wouldn’t throw her out.”

  “Wouldn’t I? Watch me.” Ginny marched across the kitchen, pausing only to glance back in disgust at Carla. “And I never want to speak to either of you again as long as I live.”

  Chapter 28

  In two hours she had to pick up Jem from the station. As Ginny slipped back into her own house she prayed Laurel was out or asleep or upstairs listening to a Leonard Cohen CD.

  No such luck. The second the front door clicked shut Laurel emerged from the kitchen.

  “There you are! Now, does Jem like chocolate? Only I’ve made a lemon drizzle cake but if she’d prefer chocolate I can easily—oh.” Laurel looked concerned. “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s happened. Lemon’s fine. Or chocolate. Jem likes any kind of cake.”

  “Only you look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Something’s wrong.”

  To tell her? Or not to tell her? Ginny was saved from having to make the decision by Laurel moving past her, opening the front door, and peering out in search of whatever it was that might have caused the upset.

  “That’s Perry’s car.” She pointed across the road. “What’s going on? Where’s Perry?”

  “OK.” Closing the door and leading her back into the kitchen, Ginny said, “Would you be upset if I told you I’ve been… kind of seeing Perry?”

  Laurel looked astounded. “You? And Perry? Seriously? But that’s great! Why would I be upset?”

  Exactly. Why would she have been? Tempting though it was to open a bottle of wine, Ginny grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge and sat down.

  “Sorry, Perry said you wouldn’t like it. Anyway, I’m not seeing him anymore.” She yanked the ring-pull and watched foam spill over the top of the can. “It’s over now.”

  “Oh phew, thank goodness for that.”

  Ginny looked up. “Why
?”

  “Because he’s a nightmare.” Laurel rolled her eyes. “For your sake, I’m so relieved it’s over. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love him to bits, but Perry’s relationships always end in disaster. Where women are concerned he has the attention span of a gnat. One minute he’s crazy about them, the next minute they’re history. Oh God”—she covered her mouth in dismay—“is that what he’s just done to you?”

  “No… no…” Ginny didn’t have the heart to admit the real reason Perry had pretended to be keen on her. “Well, kind of, I suppose. He’s seeing someone else now.”

  “Par for the course. To be honest, you’re well rid of him.” Laurel leaned forward, her forehead pleated with concern. “Are you devastated?”

  Devastated. Ginny tried and failed to summon up devastation. She could do humiliation and anger—oh yes, plenty of that, no problem—but devastation over Perry wasn’t an issue. Losing her best friend—her alleged best friend—was far more upsetting than losing Perry Kennedy.

  She shook her head. “No. We only went out a few times. It wasn’t serious.”

  This clearly wasn’t the answer Laurel wanted to hear. Or else she simply didn’t believe her. “You must be upset though. He’s let you down. These things are bound to hurt.” Earnestly, she said, “But I’m a good listener. You can talk about it as much as you want. It doesn’t matter that he’s my brother, you just let it all out, get everything off your chest, because I know there’s nothing worse than feeling miserable and not being able to talk to someone about—”

  “Actually, I don’t do it that way.” Ginny had a brainwave. “I find endlessly thinking and talking about a failed affair makes things worse. I prefer out of sight, out of mind. In fact, you could really help me if you want to. Make sure I never talk about Perry.”

  “Of course I will! Don’t you worry.” Laurel shook her head eagerly. “I’ll tell you the moment you mention his name.”

  “And… and it might help if you try not to mention Kevin’s name as well,” said Ginny. “Because if you do, it’ll only remind me of Perry, and to be honest, the less I’m reminded of him the quicker I’ll forget he ever existed.” Oh yes, brilliant. Perry had his uses after all.