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by Maxine Morrey


  ‘There is no charge, madame.’

  ‘Oh, no, really. I must pay for those.’

  ‘No charge,’ he repeated, smiling.

  Horrified, I suddenly felt tears spring to my eyes. Their well-intentioned kindness was making me feel so much worse.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, just so that he would leave and give me a chance to regain my composure. I’d had a stinking headache for the last half hour and now I just wanted to get home. I left a ten-pound note tucked under my empty wine glass as a large tip in lieu of official payment and, aware of the surreptitious glances of other diners, made my way to the door. I kept my head up and made it outside. The sticky warmth of the evening air hit me after the controlled coolness of the little restaurant and I made my way down the street. A flash to my right caught my eye and I turned to face the sea. Out on the horizon another flash lit up the water, followed by a far-off rumble.

  ‘Perfect.’

  The darkening sky blotted out the stars and did a good job of reflecting my mood. Making a couple of turns, I headed towards the bus stop and checked the computerised arrivals board. There was one for the marina due in four minutes.

  The rain now fell heavily from the sky as the wind whipped at it, the bus shelter’s roof proving insufficient protection from the forty-five-degree-angle torrent. I pulled my trench coat tighter around me, having long since given up any hope of keeping my hair or legs dry. I squinted against the rain at the arrivals board. It still said four minutes until my bus, even though I had now been standing there for ten. I gritted my teeth and silently cursed, turning to look up the road for my errant bus. As I did so, a minibus drove past, sending a plume of muddy puddle into the air. I jumped back, managing to avoid the worst of it. The van did a double toot, and I returned a very unladylike, but thoroughly deserved, hand signal. When I then heard another beep, I spun round, prepared to give them the same treatment, dropping my hand as I recognised the sleek shape now pulling to a stop in front of me. The window slid down silently and Charlie’s frowning face looked out at me.

  ‘Libs? What are you doing here?’

  ‘Waiting for a train. What do you think?’

  Charlie said nothing. I ran my hand over my eyes, and back over my now soaked hair. My shoulders sagged a little. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.’

  ‘Are you heading home?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m trying to.’

  ‘Come on, get in.’

  I threw a quick glance up at the board again. Still four minutes.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course. Get in before you’re entirely soaked.’

  I quickly ran round to the passenger side that was now a little open, thanks to Charlie leaning across, and slid into the warm, comfortable, quiet interior of the luxury car.

  ‘Thank you. My bus seems to be stuck in a time warp somewhere.’ I tried to smile. By the look on Charlie’s face, he wasn’t buying it. His eyes lingered on me a few moments longer and then, checking his mirrors, he pulled back out into the traffic.

  I kept my eyes forward, but in my peripheral vision I could see Charlie casting glances at me. ‘I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Not much to say. Besides, you’re Alex’s friend and I don’t want to put you in the middle of anything.’

  ‘I’m your friend too, Libby. Don’t forget that.’

  I swallowed and then gave a quick nod. ‘I know. Thank you.’

  We drove for a few more minutes. ‘Did you have a row?’

  ‘No. For us to have had a row, both of us would have needed to be there.’

  Charlie pulled up at a red light and faced me. ‘He stood you up?’ In the dim light of the car’s interior, I could see the tension in his jaw and heard the studied control in the question. It wasn’t a side I’d seen before. From what I’d seen of Charlie in the months I’d known him, he always played his emotions close to his chest. Terribly British. But, for whatever reason, tonight that façade had slipped a little.

  ‘Yes.’ I saw his brow furrow more deeply. ‘But so far as I can make out it was a work thing. I think.’

  ‘I see.’ Those two words were loaded as the light changed and we headed closer to my flat.

  ‘Charlie. I’m fine. Really. Please don’t say anything. I’ll handle this myself.’

  ‘I told him to look after you.’

  ‘What?’ I could hear the sharpness in my tone.

  Charlie lifted one hand from the wheel, scratched his neck twice then let it rest back on the soft leather.

  ‘Don’t be like that.’

  ‘I’ll be exactly how I want to be! And I don’t need you telling people how they should and shouldn’t act with me!’

  ‘Look, Libby. Alex is a player. Always has been. I didn’t want you to just be another notch on his bedpost!’

  ‘It’s not about what you want, Charlie! It’s what I want and I’m quite capable of looking after myself, thank you! I’m not looking for anything deep and meaningful like you are. I’ve seen what happens. Who’s to say that Alex wasn’t going to be another notch on my bedpost?’

  He didn’t reply but the tension had spread to his whole body now. His fingers gripped the wheel as a thick, uncomfortable atmosphere settled around us. Suddenly I felt worse than I had all night.

  ‘Charlie…’

  ‘No. It’s fine. You’re right. It’s up to you. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

  ‘I know you meant well and—’

  ‘Libby. As you said, this is between you and Alex.’ He pulled into the apartment’s parking area and put the car into neutral. ‘I hope everything works out the way you want it to.’

  I felt tears stinging my eyes and I knew they were more for the fight with Charlie than anything Alex had, or hadn’t, done. ‘I don’t think there is really anything to work out now.’ I shrugged, the movement jostling one of the tears free.

  Charlie flexed his fingers on the wheel and then gripped it again. After a moment, he dropped one hand and switched off the engine.

  ‘I’ll walk you to your door.’

  ‘No. It’s all right. Really. I’m just…’

  Charlie turned his face to mine. ‘Oh, Libs. Please don’t cry. Especially if you’re not going to allow me to tear him off a strip.’

  I shook my head. ‘I’m not crying over him. I don’t think.’ My temples were throbbing and I pressed a hand to one side. ‘It’s just one of those days. I don’t feel quite right and now I’ve fallen out with you, which makes me feel worse than any of it.’

  Charlie’s hand cupped the side of my face, his thumb gently brushing another loose tear away. ‘You don’t get rid of me that easily.’ He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. ‘Come on. You need to get inside. You really do look a bit peaky.’

  ‘You don’t need to get wet. I’ll run.’

  Charlie ignored me and got out of the car. A few quick strides and he was beside me, his hand out ready to assist my exit. We half ran to the main entrance of the flats, collars up, vainly trying to keep the driving rain out.

  I plugged my key in the lock and stepped inside.

  ‘Do you want to come in?’

  Charlie shook his head. ‘No. Thank you. You look done for.’ He bent and hugged me. ‘Get some rest.’

  I nodded against his shoulder. Pulling back, he gave me a smile but I could still see the tension in his jaw.

  ‘I’m OK, Charlie. Really.’

  He nodded once, gave a tight smile and wave then turned and began walking away, his back straight, long strides taking him quickly out of sight. I pushed the door closed, threw the lock and engaged the safety chain. Pulling off my coat and kicking off my shoes, I headed to the bathroom to grab a towel for my hair. Drying it off, I padded slowly to my bedroom, dropped the towel and unhooked my dressing gown from the back of the door. Snuggling into its cosy warmth, I wrapped it tight around me over my clothes and headed back into the living room. Picking up the remote, I flicked the TV on and
flopped down on the sofa.

  It was another two hours before I heard from Alex.

  ✉︎ Are you at home?

  I looked at my phone and rolled my eyes. Which did nothing for the headache that had only increased in intensity since I’d got back.

  ✉︎ Yes. The restaurant didn’t allow overnight camping.

  Sarcasm might be the lowest form of wit but, frankly, I was long past caring.

  ✉︎ I really am sorry.

  I didn’t reply. Partly because I felt like crap and also because looking at the phone’s screen was making me feel worse. It beeped again.

  ✉︎ Can I come round?

  Wow. Seriously? I didn’t reply.

  A minute later, the phone rang. Alex’s smiling face showed on the screen. Ignoring it would make all this a much bigger deal than it was. And the truth was I had a feeling that something had changed. Maybe it was the fact that this was supposed to be a great weekend, a special weekend, and things were already conspiring to make it the opposite. The rumbling storm outside and the rain pelting against the balcony window all just added to my feeling of something being off. Dad and Matt had always scoffed at the gut feelings Mum and I had had. But they more often than not turned out to mean something. Except we’d called them ‘heart’ feelings because we thought the phrase follow your heart always sounded nicer than follow your gut. I had one of those tonight. And I knew it wasn’t just a case of too many breadsticks. I answered the call.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘I’m down in the car park. Let me come up, please.’

  ‘My car park?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What are you doing down there?’

  ‘Right now, getting wet. I just… think we need to talk.’

  ‘Alex…’

  ‘Come on, please. I won’t stay long, I promise.’

  My heart instinct got stronger. I told him to come up. Flicking off the television, I went to the door, opened it and leant against the jamb, waiting for Alex to appear. A moment later he turned the corner at the end of the hall, dripping from the rain.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Paler than usual with shadows under his eyes, his handsome features looked drawn and tired. His right eye was swollen, the bruise surrounding it beginning to bloom outwards. I stood back to let him in.

  ‘Please tell me Charlie didn’t do that.’

  Alex screwed his face up momentarily. ‘Of course not. Why would he?’

  ‘I… I just…’

  ‘Oh. Right. Of course. I should have known he’d be the first one you’d call. I guess I’m in the doghouse with him then too.’

  I glared at him, stung. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I came up to explain that I was late because—’

  ‘Late? You were a bit more than late! You didn’t even show up!’

  ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’

  ‘We weren’t having dinner here! And now is not five hours ago!’

  ‘So, you rang your knight in shining armour instead?’

  ‘No! I was waiting at the bus stop in the pouring rain and he drove past.’

  ‘Whereupon you told him your tale of woe?’

  ‘What the hell is wrong with you? You’re the one that stood me up and yet it’s me that seems to be in the wrong!’

  Silence settled heavily between us. Alex turned, his hand on the front door catch.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice lower and softer. ‘I didn’t realise you were actually in bed.’

  I looked down at the dressing gown I was wearing. ‘I wasn’t.’

  He turned back and I gave a quick flash to show that I was still dressed underneath.

  ‘Nice dress.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I replied.

  We stood there.

  ‘So, what happened to your eye?’

  ‘A lucky swing from a bunch of troublemakers.’

  ‘Do you need ice on it?’

  ‘I will, when I get home.’ He met my eyes and the meaning behind that sentence was understood, if unsaid. This weekend was supposed to have been a turning point. An opportunity to get to know each other better. It was still shaping up to be a turning point but not the one either of us had envisaged. A look passed between us. The possibility that we could right this thing hovered in the air. But we both knew the truth.

  ‘Do you think you should get it looked at?’

  ‘Deb already gave me a quick check-over?’

  I did my best to keep my tone casual. ‘Deb?’

  He nodded. His eyes ever so slightly averted from mine. ‘She’s one of the other coppers. Done all the first-aid courses.’

  ‘That’s handy, then.’

  ‘Yeah. I… I didn’t want to tell you about the trouble earlier because I thought you might worry and I was still hoping to make it. But then this happened and I was a bit stunned. Deb didn’t think I should drive until I was sure I was OK.’

  ‘Did you drive here?’ My brain was processing Alex’s words and the awkwardness of his actions, trying to put everything together.

  ‘No… I got a lift.’

  ‘Do you need one back home?’ I already knew the answer. For some masochistic reason I wanted to hear him say it.

  ‘Umm… no. Thanks. I’m OK.’

  I raised an eyebrow, attempting innocent enquiry. The fact that my fists were balled, nails digging into my palms, probably put a dent in the act.

  Alex straightened. ‘What do you want me to tell you, Libby?’

  ‘I’m just asking how you’re getting home.’ I forced my hands to open and did a palms-up gesture.

  ‘By the look on your face, I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that.’

  ‘Sounds like Debs is a great friend. That’s good.’

  ‘You can hardly judge me,’ he replied.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You just told me Charlie brought you home in his bloody Aston!’

  ‘That’s completely different!’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Of course it is!’ I yelled back. ‘You weren’t left sitting in a romantic restaurant for two and a half hours, subjected to pitying looks and whispered comments! If you didn’t want any of this to happen, if you wanted to see someone else instead, you should have just told me, Alex! Not left me to feel humiliated at a romantic table for two!’

  Alex dropped his gaze. ‘It’s not that I prefer her to you…’

  ‘Please don’t.’ I held up my hand. ‘Let’s just leave it alone. OK?’ My hand pressed to my temple in an effort to quell the pounding.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m tired. That’s all.’

  ‘I should go.’

  ‘Yes. You probably should. You’ve already kept one woman waiting tonight. I’d hate for you to do it to another.’

  He met my eyes. ‘I didn’t exactly plan things to go this way.’

  ‘And yet they did. Goodnight, Alex.’

  He held my gaze for a couple of beats then turned back to the door. He pulled it closed behind him and I stood there in the silence. A distant roll of thunder signalled that the storm was beginning to move off. I pulled the voile back from the balcony door and watched as lightning danced on the horizon. Letting the fabric drop back into place, I switched off the light, padded into the bathroom and cleaned my teeth. Stripping off the clothes that I’d so carefully chosen with Amy earlier this evening, I uncharacteristically left them in a pile on the bedroom floor to deal with tomorrow and crawled into bed.

  29

  The sun was warming the room, sliding in through a gap in the curtains, when I woke the next morning. I groaned. My nose was streaming, my throat was sore and the headache from last night had only got worse. Perfect. It was forecast to be twenty-eight degrees today and I was shivering and full of cold.

  I forced back the duvet and made my way to the bathroom. Ideally I should take a shower, wash my hair and try and feel a bit more human. I looked in the mirror, grabbed my toothbrush and accepted that absolutely none of that was going to happen.
<
br />   Having found some cold medicine in the cabinet, I squinted at the instructions and took the required dose, tipping out the last drops of the bottle before heading back into the bedroom to grab my duvet and ensconce myself on the sofa. Tucked up, I glanced at my phone. I ought to let Amy know about everything. And also tell her not to come round. I couldn’t risk passing this cold on to her.

  Amy always made light of her asthma but the truth was that she had a severe case, which had to be monitored. There had been a couple of scares and, having been with her during the last bad attack, I was now on high alert about it. She always told me not to worry but I’d never been able to forget the memory of her struggling for breath and the relief I’d felt at the sound of the ambulance siren screaming up to her door three years ago.

  I clicked on the text thread already going between us and began a new message.

  ✉︎ Hi. Just to let you know I have stinking cold so don’t come anywhere near me until I give the all clear xx

  A few minutes later, I got a reply.

  ✉︎ Oh no! Bad timing or what? What about your sexy weekend plans! Is Alex still there?

  So much for putting off the inevitable for a while.

  ✉︎ Hmm, it didn’t really happen. He got caught up at work, long story short, we broke up. But all amicable.

  I wasn’t sure about the last bit but I didn’t have the energy to go into everything right now. My phone began to ring. So much for that idea.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘You broke up?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Why? How?’

  ‘It just wasn’t working. I don’t know. I think we both felt it. Last night was just the final nail in the coffin.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He got caught up in something at work and ended up standing me up at the restaurant.’ I omitted the fact that it seemed a female colleague had also had a starring role. Honestly, I just wanted to burrow under my duvet and forget the whole thing.

 

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