by John Marrs
‘Thank you. I’m not sure how long I’m staying,’ Jade replied, and she genuinely wasn’t. The fairy-tale romance between her and Kevin wasn’t playing out how she’d imagined, and the easiest thing to do would be to beat a hasty retreat at the first opportunity. But each time she looked at Kevin, the besotted expression on his face said what his words had not. He desperately wanted her to stay. ‘A week or so probably, if that’s OK?’
Dan served up plates full of cold meats, potatoes and salad, while Mark helped to bring the dishes to the dining table. Kevin was the only member of the family who didn’t tuck in. Instead, he picked at a small portion on his plate. ‘I struggle to keep my food down,’ he told her later. ‘The cancer’s in my digestive system so food doesn’t sit properly.’
Jade had yet to come to terms with hearing the C-word and struggled to associate it with Kevin. She had to stop herself from recoiling when it was mentioned, even though the rest of the family didn’t bat an eyelid and continued as normal. She understood they’d had a much longer adjustment period to come to terms with it than she had.
‘It’s because of you that we’ve had him for longer than the doctors first thought,’ Susan told Jade as they were drying the dishes.
‘How so?’
‘After we were told it was … terminal, he did like many people do and sank into a depression. Well, who can blame him?’
‘I’d be as angry as hell.’
‘He was at first, too. He thought he had his whole life ahead of him only to be told it’s not going to last as long as he’d assumed …’ She paused and turned her head away from Jade, as if she had suddenly just relived the moment the awful news had been delivered all over again. She cleared her throat and continued.
‘It was pretty bad, Jade. None of us knew how to react or how to help him. Then, at the darkest time of his life, he discovered he had a DNA Match, and it didn’t matter that she lived in a different country or that he’d probably never meet her face to face. Just knowing you were out there and being in communication with one another was a reason for him to continue.’
‘I had no idea about any of this—’
‘And he should have told you. I told him you deserved to know, but he didn’t know how to bring it up. For him, you were a welcome distraction from it. When you and he were texting or talking, he’d forget about what was happening to his body. He became a different person … He was my little boy again.’ Susan clasped Jade’s hand firmly. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you for being my boy’s friend and thank you for coming to see him.’
‘I’m glad I came.’ Jade smiled. It had been a long and extraordinary day, and as it caught up on her, she suddenly wanted to cry. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to – she hated people thinking she was weak – so she swallowed hard and kept the tears down. She meant it, she thought, she was pleased she had met Kevin and already she felt close to him.
But there was just one problem – she knew that on meeting her Match, she wasn’t in love with him.
Chapter 34
NICK
It turned out the feeling Nick and Alex had shared in Alex’s clinic wasn’t a fluke.
The moment he spotted Alex in the trendy Birmingham bar, Nick was scared his legs might give way beneath him before he’d even reached the table. The two men politely shook hands and gave each other awkward smiles.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Nick asked.
‘Sure, another one of these, thanks, mate,’ Alex replied, and lifted his bottle of lager.
Nick nodded and headed to the bar. As he ordered their drinks he noticed Alex’s reflection in the mirror behind the spirits. Sally was right when she’d commented on Alex’s handsome appearance. Even as a straight man, Nick could appreciate he was a good-looking guy. He was much more masculine than him and held himself confidently. He was the kind of guy women flocked to, and for some reason this thought made him feel funny inside. He checked his phone to see if Sally had received the text he’d sent telling her he’d be late home because of a client meeting. It was a plausible lie, he thought, as he often had to wine and dine existing and prospective clients. ‘OK babe, luv u.’ He read her reply. He didn’t respond.
Nick returned to the booth with their bottles, sat down and took off his coat.
Neither knew where to begin.
‘So how’ve you been?’ Nick said eventually.
‘Good, thanks. Pretty busy at work, you know. You?’
‘Yeah, same here, same here.’
Both men simultaneously looked down at their drinks, unable to maintain any prolonged eye contact and risk a repeat of what they’d felt the first time they’d met. Two choruses of an old Oasis song played in the background before either of them said another word, both feeling cripplingly self-aware.
‘Actually, things aren’t good,’ admitted Nick. ‘There’s no easy way for me to say this without sounding like a total idiot, but I need to get this off my chest before I back out. The more I try not to think about it, the more it becomes the only thing I can think about at all. It’s about what happened … the first time we met.’
He paused, realising how ridiculous he sounded. He looked at Alex hoping for confirmation that he might be feeling the same, but Alex’s face gave little away. In for a penny, in for a pound, Nick thought and continued regardless. ‘That feeling I got when I looked at you as I was leaving; I’ve thought it through a thousand times since and I still can’t explain it properly. None of it make sense. I’m not gay.’
‘I’m not gay either,’ Alex replied.
‘So why do we have this link?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I’ve not so much as kissed a guy, not even for a laugh or when I was drunk.’
‘Me neither.’
‘So if neither of us are into blokes, then what’s happening here?’
‘It’s simple. The test is fucked up, they got us mixed up with other people,’ Alex said resolutely.
‘That’s what I said. I even emailed them to check, but they sent out this standard reply saying the test isn’t flawed and to date they haven’t had one mis-Match. But, anyway, it doesn’t explain what I felt. What I think we felt. Are we in denial or something?’
Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took several gulps from his bottle, before leaning forward and, with a lowered voice, said, ‘Mate, all I know is that something inexplicable happened after I gave you physio. I didn’t feel anything when we met, when you took your T-shirt off, when I touched you or when we shook hands afterwards, but then … I dunno … something happened.’
Nick breathed a sigh of relief, pleased to hear Alex describe what he had felt too.
‘What was it like for you?’ he asked.
‘Honestly? Like a thousand small explosions going off inside me all at once, but not in a bad way … It was like they woke me up. I suddenly felt more alive than I’ve ever been before and that’s the only way I can describe it, as lame as it sounds.’
‘No, no, it’s cool. I know what you mean. It was exactly the same for me.’
‘But why you and me? From the conversation we had last time, do we even have anything in common? I love sport, you love computer games. I’m going back home to live in New Zealand in a couple of months and you enjoy your city life.’
‘And we both have girlfriends.’
‘And we both have girlfriends,’ Alex agreed.
‘So why am I sitting here with butterflies the size of eagles circling my stomach and I can barely look at you, and then when I do, I can’t take my eyes off you?’
Nick shuffled his leg and felt his knee briefly brush against Alex’s. For a split second, he felt like goosebumps were spreading to each pore in his body. A moment later, Alex slid his leg back over so their legs remained touching.
They looked at each other square in the eye, neither needing to say a word to know what the other was feeling.
Chapter 35
ELLIE
On Ellie and Tim’s seco
nd date, time passed as swiftly as the click of a finger as they tucked into their meal.
Ellie had dined in yam’Tcha, Le Sergent Recruteur and Tour d’Argent – three of the most critically acclaimed restaurants in Paris – and Jean-Christophe Novelli and Hélène Darroze had even cooked for her in her own home, but she couldn’t remember a meal she’d appreciated more than the one she was sharing with Tim at this modest brasserie. It certainly wasn’t the menu she found appealing – everything she’d ordered had either been cremated or doused in garlic – but she ate it without complaint as she welcomed the effort he’d made in organising their night.
Tim was a kind, genuine man, the sort she hadn’t met in a long, long time. Was she attracted to him? Yes, she decided, but not in the way she’d expected to be. Ellie had spent enough time in the company of couples who’d met through Match Your DNA to know what two people who were head-over-heels in love looked like. She and Tim didn’t have that. She had erected so many barriers over the years that theirs was likely to be a slow-burner rather than an all-consuming, all-guns-blazing relationship.
With the meal completed and their coffees drained, Ellie had allowed Tim to pay before he held her vintage Alexander McQueen coat open for her to slip her arms into. She suddenly felt guilty for wearing it in his company, as it had likely cost more than what he’d earn in a month. In fact, she knew for sure that it did, as her private detectives had disclosed to her Tim’s bank statements. But while she regretted intrusively checking up on him, she knew she shouldn’t feel guilty for buying nice things. It was her hard-earned money to do with as she pleased and, in the same way she encouraged Tim to be himself when he was around her, she should be true to herself also. And she was a girl who loved her clothes.
Tim held open the door as they left and she gave in to the urge to entwine her arm inside his, immediately feeling the radiating warmth of his body. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and offered her the widest beam, then leaned towards her for a kiss. Ellie closed her eyes and as their lips met, she felt the unexpected release of pheromones she had heard about surge around her body making her nerves twitch and her heart flutter. For a second, she thought she might have even seen stars.
But her moment of elation was brought to an abrupt halt when she heard a female voice shriek from behind them, ‘You fucking bitch!’
Together they turned to find a scowling, middle-aged woman hurling something in their direction. On instinct, Tim tried to step between the woman and Ellie, and was hit with the brunt of a whole can of red paint, which was now all over his face, shirt and jacket. A generous amount also hit Ellie too, splashing against her arms, hair, cheeks and the restaurant window behind them.
‘You’ve got blood on your hands for what you’ve done,’ the woman yelled at Ellie, before throwing the can into the gutter and scurrying away along the road into the night.
Ellie remained frozen in place as a stunned Tim wiped the paint from his face.
‘What did you do?’ he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.
The shock had rendered Ellie immobile. It wasn’t the first time she had been subject to an attack, although most of the others had been of a cyber or verbal nature, with the exception of the religious nut who’d stabbed Andrei with a broken bottle. It was precisely for this reason she had hired him and his team to escort her in public. Only that evening, she’d needed to remind herself what it felt like to be a normal person going on a regular date. As she and Tim had kissed, Ellie’s defences were down and she was lost in the moment.
Now, though, all she felt was the thick gloopy paint dripping down her cheeks. She was aware Tim had just asked her a question, but she was too dumbstruck to acknowledge it. Instead, she stared back at the onlookers who’d stopped to gawp at the spectacle.
With the crowd around them growing, Tim leaped into action, pulling her by the arm towards a nearby black cab that’d just dropped off a fare. The driver glared at the paint-splattered pair and was about to refuse them entry when Tim pulled a fistful of £50 notes from his wallet and shoved them through the passenger window. The large bills seemed out of character for a man on Tim’s wage, but Ellie was too concerned by the assault to question it.
‘That’ll pay for the clean-up,’ he said and opened the door, ushering her inside, not giving the driver an opportunity to change his mind. ‘Where do you live?’ She was still too stunned to respond.
‘Ellie,’ Tim said sternly. ‘I need to get you home, where do you live?’
‘345 Fullerton Terrace, Belgravia,’ she whispered and Tim repeated it to the driver, then pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped away some of the red paint from her lips.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked gently.
‘I just want to go home,’ she said, feeling humiliated and ashamed. She couldn’t make eye contact with him.
‘Do you know that woman?’
‘No.’
‘We need to call the police.’
‘No,’ Ellie repeated, more forcefully.
Tim waited for a further explanation but none was forthcoming. She could sense his frustration. She looked out of the window so she didn’t have to see the disappointment on his face.
‘Just who are you, Ellie?’ he persisted. ‘Why would someone want to do that to you?’
She remained silent for the rest of their awkward fifteen-minute journey to her home. As the cab pulled up outside her large, white, four-storey townhouse, she assumed that Tim was wondering how a PA could afford to live in such a sought-after postcode. But she was in no mood to admit the truth.
She got out of the cab while Tim paid the driver. By the time he’d been handed his change, Ellie had rushed up the steps to her front door and held out her key card to it. It opened to Andrei standing inside. He took one look at his emotional employer and was about to launch himself at Tim, still standing on the road, but Ellie stopped him as she entered, and Andrei shut the door, leaving Tim out in the cold.
Chapter 36
MANDY
Mandy could not get enough of her niece Bella, who sat in a high chair around her parents’ dining table, surrounded by a group of other small children who were all unable to comprehend the celebrations before them.
Bella’s chubby legs kicked with excitement as the lights dimmed and her mother entered the room with a pink birthday cake decorated with a large candle with the number one on. Everyone gathered around to sing Happy Birthday and Mandy caught eyes with her sister Karen, who was trying hard to hold back her happy tears. As Bella’s Aunty Paula helped her to blow out the candles, Bella blew a huge spit bubble and reached out to grab the cake.
Mandy adored all three of her nieces and nephews and she always jumped at the chance to play with them. Since they’d been born, she had spent more on designer label clothes for them than on anything she bought for herself. But she had a secret she was too embarrassed to admit: each time she bought something for them, she also purchased an identical one for the child she hoped to have. She had two suitcases and a holdall under the bed in her spare room crammed full of tiny outfits that would never be worn.
However, lately she was finding it increasingly difficult to be around the children – the thought of not being able to have a child with her DNA Match, as her sisters had, made her feel physically sick. Even if she soon met someone to start a family with, he would never be Mr Right because Mr Right was dead. She worried she wouldn’t be able to love a baby she’d had with someone else in the same way she might have loved a child she’d made with Richard. And she was quietly beginning to resent Paula and Karen for having everything she dreamed of. If Kirstin could find a nice girl to settle down with, she’d be next, and the wedge that separated them would expand yet further.
‘Right, missy, come with me,’ Paula said and grabbed Mandy firmly by the arm, frog-marching her out into the garden, and into the plastic Wendy house that belonged to Bella. Inside, they crouched to sit on the small furniture and Paula produced a pack of cigarette
s from her pocket, a wicked glint in her eye. ‘Just what are you playing at?’
Mandy feigned innocence, though she knew exactly what her sister wanted to know.
‘Richard, your Match. You promised we’d get to meet him today. Then at the last minute you suddenly say he’s “busy with an urgent personal training booking”. Who needs a personal training session urgently? Come on now.’
Mandy swallowed hard. She’d told her family almost everything there was to know about Richard with one exception – that he was no longer alive. She stared at Paula, unsure what to say.
‘It’s been two months since you met the love of your life and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of him.’ Paula blew smoke out the open window. ‘So what’s wrong with him?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with him,’ Mandy said and took a deep drag. She hadn’t realised she’d needed a cigarette that badly until she felt the smoke hit the back of her throat.
‘Is there a massive mole on his forehead? Tattoos all over his body? Is he missing a limb? Is he a foot shorter than you? Is he black? You do know that even our old racist grandfather could get his head around Richard’s colour if he knew you were happy—’
‘No, no, it’s none of those.’ Mandy wished it were that easy.
‘You think we’re going to scare the poor boy off, don’t you?’
‘Well, you girls can be a bit full-on sometimes …’ Mandy wasn’t ready to share the story just yet, so said, ‘He’s quite shy. I’ll introduce him when I think he’s ready.’
‘OK, fair enough.’ Strangely Paula seemed satisfied with the explanation. ‘But let’s not leave it till Bella’s second birthday before I get to meet my brother-in-law-to-be.’
‘No, of course not,’ Mandy said, aware that her lies had an expiration date.