‘Which is?’ I prompted as she sat back to drink her coffee and nibble on another cookie. I was very impatient today, everyone was taking far too long to get to the point.
‘You know he had a large win on the lottery a few months ago?’
‘Hmmm,’ I nodded, remembering the excitement of the winning ticket having been purchased in the post office. We’d had the press here, and even a news crew. It was quite the publicity for our little village.
‘Well, he’s invested it in the old school house, that big Victorian place down Ivy Lane. He’s having it converted into ten self-contained, one-bedroom apartments, with lift access to the first floor, a communal lounge, games room, and kitchen diner. I’ve paid a deposit to secure one, and so have some other OAPs from the village. Mr. Bentley, Mr. and Mrs Vickers too, so the shop is going on the market. We’ll all chip in to pay for a team of carers to do shifts.’
‘So it’s like an old people’s home, but you get to keep your independence if you want, and still live in Dilbury with your friends?’ I asked, my heart warming at the thought that she’d only be a five-minute walk away.
‘And I still get to be near you girls,’ she beamed, leaning over to put her old, arthritic hands on top of mine and Georgie’s. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think it’s bloody brilliant,’ I enthused, feeling very emotional.
‘Me too, Daphne. Oh, I’m so happy to hear we aren’t losing you for good.’
‘You can come and visit whenever you want, and I might even get one of those zippy motorised scooters so I can nip to the shop, assuming there will still be a shop, and come and visit you both here, too. They won’t be ready for another couple of months, but I thought I ought to set the wheels in motion.’
‘Well, if you get an offer and need to move out before your apartment is ready, you can come and live here,’ I offered, smothering her hand on mine with my other one. ‘I’m so glad you’re doing this. Those stairs of yours were worrying me, and it’s lovely to think you’ll be surrounded by friends. And who knows, maybe romance will blossom with Mr. Bentley,’ I teased. She blushed and smacked my hand with a girlish giggle. I knew how fond she was of him.
‘Well, enough about me putting my life in order. It’s time to talk about the two of you.’
‘What about us?’ Georgie asked as I went to fill up the kettle again. I was going to have to work through the night to catch up on my books, but I knew from Daphne’s tone we were both in for a lecture, and Daphne wouldn’t leave until she’d said her piece.
‘You’re going to be thirty this year, Abbie, and you’re not that far behind her, Georgie, and neither of you are married. It’s about time we sorted that out.’
‘Daphne,’ we both whined in unison.
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m supposed to be the stubborn old goat in this little friendship of ours, too set in my ways to change, but I’m embracing it while you both sit here refusing to do the same. Georgie, Abbie told me this nice young man you met on holiday has rung you and you haven’t rung him back!’ she scolded.
‘The date was a disaster, Daphne,’ she groaned.
‘It wasn’t all peaches and cream on my first date with David either, you know,’ she reminded her, making me smile. We knew the story, I’d never tired of hearing her tell us. ‘But when you get that connection with someone, when you feel those butterflies, there’s something there and it’s worth persevering. Love isn’t easy, you know. It’s not all a bed of thornless roses, you have to take the rough with the smooth. Mr. Perfect doesn’t exist, and you’re both too intelligent to let yourselves believe that he does. That’s where love comes into a partnership. If you both love each other, that love bridges the faults and anchors you together through any storm. He doesn’t have to be perfect, and neither do you, but together you are perfect for each other. So, you are going to ring this Veston back–’
‘Weston,’ Georgie giggled as I carried the coffees back over, along with more cookies.
‘Veston, Heston, Weston, whatever,’ Daphne scoffed with a dismissive, and frankly impatient, flick of her wrist. ‘You’re going to ring him back. Even if you don’t want to go on another date with him quite yet, you can start by talking on the phone, or texting, or sexting, whatever it is you youngsters do first. I know it’s not hip or cool to actually physically see a man nowadays until you’ve had a virtual relationship, but you have to start somewhere. It’s time to put that Greg behind you.’
‘Hear, hear,’ I confirmed with a nod. ‘Been telling you that for ages, Georgie. Listen to the wise one, she speaks perfect sense.’
‘And don’t think you’re getting off scot-free, young lady,’ Daphne warned me with a firm stare, making me grimace and wince.
‘You tell her, Daphne, as she’s not listening to me!’ nodded Georgie triumphantly as she sat back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. ‘I’ve told her that she’s letting an ocean ruin what was a perfectly good relationship, that if she really loves him, and I know she does, even two oceans shouldn’t keep her from him. True love knows no bounds,’ she added with a poignant look at me, reminding me of our discussion on holiday.
‘Of course I love him, and despite everything, I truly believe he loves me, but he’s holding back and I don’t understand why. I don’t want to be the needy girl who chases him. I want a man who goes for what he wants, who puts himself out for me. I want a man to chase me, not the other way around, and it seems he won’t.’
‘For an intelligent woman, Abbie Carter, you really can be stupid sometimes,’ Daphne sighed.
‘Owww,’ I protested as she finger-flicked my forehead. ‘What was that for?’
‘For not opening your eyes and seeing the truth,’ Daphne replied, making me give her a puzzled look.
‘He’s already chased you, Abbie,’ Georgie reminded me. ‘This is the man who didn’t do relationships, who never followed up on a woman, and he did that for you. He flew all the way here on Valentine’s Day. Ok, he was a day late with the time difference, but he came.’
‘And he left,’ I reminded her in return.
‘And he came back when Sumo died,’ she added.
‘And he left again. Then he didn’t tell me about his sister, and upset me by turning up at the wedding with her, letting me think that he’d moved on. We’ve already discussed this, at length. Nothing’s changed,’ I muttered stubbornly.
‘But you’re missing the point, Abbie,’ Daphne sighed, shaking her head at me. ‘We’re talking about a man who has never known any love in his life, until he met you. His own family abandoned him. Women have only ever wanted him for his looks or his money. Then he met you. He broke out of his mould and took a risk and gave you his heart.’
‘And I gave him mine,’ I reminded them both, tears prickling at my eyes. ‘But it wasn’t enough.’
‘Says who?’ Daphne retorted. ‘You girls are so obsessed with finding Mr. Perfect, and I told you he doesn’t exist. Miller has baggage, Abbie. He may be a confident alpha-male when it comes to his business affairs, but when it comes to matters of the heart, he’s a scared young boy, terrified of being abandoned again. He’s testing you. He’s let you in, but he’s keeping himself at a distance to see if you’ll pursue him, if you really love him enough to go and claim him the way his parents never did. And you haven’t.’
‘But my life is here,’ I objected.
‘You’re using that as an excuse, because you’re not perfect either. You’ve had loss in your life and you’re clinging onto remnants of the past instead of letting go and grabbing your future. He’s a billionaire, Abbie. So what if he wants you to live in New York. You can afford to keep the cottage here and he’ll fly you back and forth whenever you want. You won’t have to work if you don’t want to. And no matter where in the world you are, Georgie and I will still be your friends.’
‘You’re saying I should go and tell him I’ll move out there with him?’ I gulped as I looked at them both, and they both nodded. Daphne gra
bbed my hand again and held my gaze.
‘He came looking for you after the wedding, but you’d already run away. We had a long talk and you know what he said?’ she asked.
‘No,’ I said as I shook my head, as obviously I didn’t.
‘He said “I’ve made a fool of myself, chasing ghosts of people that obviously never really wanted me in their lives, and now Abbie. For once, I just want someone to make a fool of themselves, to go out of their way and put their heart on the line to show me how much they love me.”’
‘He said that? He thinks he’s made a fool of himself chasing me?’ I asked quietly, a solitary tear rolling down my cheek as I realised his parents had hurt him so badly, he wasn’t really convinced that I’d ever loved him. I’d been sitting here thinking he didn’t love me enough, and he’d been doing the same. We were two scared, and scarred, people. But I’d been lucky enough to have love in my life, from my dad, my friends, and even my gassy pooch. Who had Miller had? All along I’d been waiting for him to come and sweep me off my feet and prove himself to me, and he was sitting in New York doing the same.
I suddenly realised that he’d never break first. He’d not been shown enough love to make him believe it was worth the risk. So I needed to show him that he was loved enough for someone to make a fool of themselves. Because he was worth it. He wasn’t Mr. Perfect, and I sure wasn’t Miss Perfect, but Daphne was right. As two halves, we were imperfect, but together we could be stronger. Together we could fill each other’s flaws and become a perfect whole.
‘Are we booking you a flight?’ Georgie asked, a hopeful look on her face.
‘We’re booking me a flight,’ I nodded, then giggled as they both let out a screech of delight and gave each other a high five. ‘But for this plan to work, I need some time to put some wheels into motion,’ I added, not to mention working through the next few nights to complete my accounts.
Chapter Fifteen
Woman On A Mission
June
‘MOVE IT, LADY. YOU already paid, so I switched off the meter and now I’m losing money,’ the increasingly irate driver grumbled, as I struggled to get out of his yellow cab.
‘I’m sorry, does it look like I’m not trying to move?’ I retorted, flashing him a glare, which was pointless, as he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway. ‘How about instead of bitching at me, you help me?’
‘I’m not running a charity here, I’m on the clock.’
‘Andy would have helped me,’ I muttered as I tried to sit up again and failed miserably. Plus Andy wouldn’t have cussed, blasphemed, or hollered and gesticulated out of his window the entire journey from the hotel either.
‘Who the hell is Andy?’
‘Someone who could teach you a thing or two about manners. Are you going to help me or not?’
‘All you have to do is sit up and get your fat ass out of my damn cab,’ he grated.
‘Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, my bad. If only you’d told me earlier that all I had to do was sit up. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, wait, I did. What do you think I’ve been doing floundering in here for the last five minutes? It’s hardly conducive attire for one to bend at the waist. And for your information, my “ass” isn’t fat! It’s this outfit,’ I bit back, then gasped as he muttered some nasty words about me under my breath. ‘I can’t believe I gave you a tip!’
‘I’ll give you one. Get the Hell. Out. Of. My. Damn. Cab. Or I’m driving away with you still hanging out of it,’ he yelled, then he started muttering in a foreign language as he gestured with his arms wildly, showing his exasperation. When I heard a cough from outside, I angled my head to try and look through the open cab door, where my feet and legs were sticking out.
‘Is everything ok in here?’ came a male voice. He was immediately assaulted with a barrage of raised voices from myself and my uncharitable driver, telling him exactly what wasn’t ok in here. ‘Easy, easy, let’s all calm down a minute,’ he suggested.
‘It’s him, he’s the problem,’ I announced, whacking the back of the driver’s head as I attempted to gesture in his direction.
‘You see … you see what I’m having to put up with? Crazy British women, they’re all the same,’ he yelled.
‘Ok, miss, give me your, errr, hand and I’ll help you out,’ came the friendly voice.
‘Thank you! See, chivalry goes a long way,’ I told the taxi driver as my knight in shining armour grabbed me around the wrists and gently tugged me into a seated position, then somehow yanked me out of the cab and steadied me on the pavement as I wobbled. ‘Thank you so much. I don’t suppose you could grab my basket from the floor, could you? These hands aren’t much use.’
‘None of you is,’ Mr. Foreign huffed.
‘Right, that’s it, I’ve had enough of your attitude. Get out of that cab and come and face me like a man to apologise,’ I ordered as I waddled to his window. I gasped again as he stuck up his middle finger and sped away from the kerb the second he heard his back door shut. ‘How rude! Is everyone in New York so rude?’ I asked my helper, turning around to try and find him.
‘It’s a busy city, everyone has places to go and things to do. You British are more polite. Here’s your basket,’ he advised as he hooked it over my arm. ‘Where are you going dressed like this, a kid’s birthday party?’
‘No, I’m going to see my boyfriend, or rather my ex-boyfriend. Actually, I’ve no idea what we are anymore, but I wanted to surprise him,’ I nodded, squinting as I tried to see what this man looked like. I could just make out he was in some kind of security uniform.
‘I’d say you’ll accomplish your mission,’ he chuckled. ‘Where are you meeting him? I can turn you around to face the right direction to go.’
‘He’s here. This is the entrance to AMD, isn’t it?’
‘It is. I work here, so take my arm and I’ll escort you to the reception area. You’ll need to sign in, if you can, and let them know who you’re here to see.’
He helped loop one of my arms through his as we did a slow walk across the pavement, or “sidewalk” as Miller liked to call it, and I heard the whoosh of some electric doors opening in front of us. I remembered the lobby from when Miller had given me a tour. It was a huge space, well-lit from the glass façade, with shiny black marble floors and a long reception desk that had AMD in big chrome letters above it on the wall. To the left of reception were some security turnstiles, manned by armed security guards who vetted you before allowing you access to the lifts. I really hadn’t thought this through properly.
‘Are we there yet?’ I asked, trying to angle my head to see while struggling to breathe. I was so hot.
‘You’re here, miss. Good luck with the surprise,’ he confirmed.
‘I would shake your hand, but I’m not really in a position to. Thank you so much, Mr. …?’
‘Thomas, just Thomas,’ he chuckled.
‘Then I’ll let Miller know how kind you’ve been to me.’
‘Miller?’ he questioned. ‘You’re here to see Mr. Davis?’
‘I am,’ I confirmed.
‘Are you Abbie Carter?’
‘How did you know that?’ I exclaimed. I’d thought my disguise was foolproof.
‘Mr. Davis has only ever had one girlfriend, Miss Carter. We met briefly when he showed you around last year, though I’d never have recognised you in this.’
‘No, I guess not,’ I giggled.
‘Well, let me sign you in and I’ll escort you up to his office myself.’
‘That’s really good of you. Phew, is it always so hot in New York in June?’ I asked, feeling perspiration gathering on my forehead while some trickled down the back of my neck.
‘Yes, but dressing like that doesn’t help,’ he laughed. ‘Mr. Davis really will be surprised, you’re drawing quite a crowd down here.’
‘Excellent,’ I confirmed. That was the point. I was here to prove how much I loved him by making a total fool of myself, and so far it seemed to be going to plan.
> ‘Ok, I’m not sure the lanyard will fit around your neck, so I’ll just carry it for you,’ he offered as he helped me to shuffle off again. I could just make out the turnstiles as we approached them and he advised me to walk forward. I did, but bounced straight back. I tried again, and the same thing happened. I could hear lots of chuckling around me.
‘What’s happening?’ I asked Thomas.
‘I think your hips are too big to go through. How about you turn sideways?’ he suggested, taking my basket off me. I nodded and did as I was told and started to edge to my left. ‘You need to suck in your stomach,’ he advised when I seemed to get stuck.
‘Ok,’ I called, whacking my hands against it and straining to move to the left. ‘Ha, I can feel the bar on my left thigh.’
‘Great, keep going, it will spin and let you through.’
I kept shuffling, panting, and squeezing my way through the gap, then squealed as I felt my right leg being lifted up into the air. I froze, in some kind of arabesque ballet position, as a wave of laughter surrounded me.
‘What’s happening now?’ I called, totally aware that I was currently reliant on this poor guy.
‘You’re too big to get through,’ Thomas called from behind me.
‘So what do we do? I’m pretty uncomfortable like this.’
‘I can imagine. We either reverse the mechanism and pull you back out, or I get some of the guys to help me lift you up and carry you over. But they’ll all need to come upstairs with me, because there’s turnstiles to enter each floor as you exit the elevators.’
‘Damn it,’ I groaned. ‘If you pull me back out, can you get Miller to come down to the lobby instead?’ In fact, that would probably be even better than me seeing him in his office. This way he’d witness my public humiliation, he’d see how much of a fool I was prepared to make of myself in front of lots of his staff.
Never the Bride (Dilbury Village #1) Page 25