Crucially for her future prospect of happiness, Liv was too late, and by the time she made it, the door was already open. She felt herself deflate against the wall as Anna opened the door and Tom set eyes on her for the first time, her golden hair rippling down her back, her figure-hugging if demure cotton dress, her slim, golden brown calves. And in that one instant Liv could see that Tom was smitten. And even if, like most of Anna’s encounters, it only lasted until Tom realised that she wasn’t being ironic, she really was that insane, then it would still be too late for Liv. If Anna was the sort of girl who made his jaw drop, then all her silly romantic fantasies and dreams that he’d been interested in her had been just that. And any hope that Liv had fostered in her heart that the only reason Tom hadn’t actually asked her out on a date yet was because he was a slow burner had been crushed when, half a bottle of hastily consumed cava later, she discovered Tom and Anna engaged in a considerable amount of kissing in the hallway, scarcely forty minutes after they had first set eyes on each other. Then there had been the discovery that Tom was still there the next morning, making Anna breakfast in bed in his boxers, grinning and winking at Liv as she bumped into him in the kitchen as if they were just good friends, which they clearly were, followed by the slow months of denial leading up to last Christmas Eve and the inevitable proposal. Liv had had almost a year and a half to get her head round the fact that her latest crush was not into her, and it was time to move on, again. But still that dogged little splinter of affection that had worked its way into her heart the very first time she set eyes on Tom persisted in festering away, and so far she had completely and utterly failed to not be in love with him
Which was why it made all this drama over the Vegas Showgirl Secret Wife so hard not to take personally, and why Liv would rather be anywhere else in the world than travelling up the eighteen floors to Tom’s flat to carry out Anna’s request to make sure that everything was OK, whatever that meant at this point in their lives, and take care of Tom. But there it was, she and Anna had always been there for each other, always done what the other one asked. And poor, unhappy, confused Anna could not know that she was forcing Liv to take care of a man who she wanted to kiss and slap in equal measure.
It took several long pushes on the buzzer for Tom to finally come to the door and, when he did, he looked terrible. His eyes were bleary and bloodshot, his hair was tousled, and flat on one side, as if he’d been lying on the carpet despairing, which he probably had, judging by his crumpled shirt. He really was upset about everything that had happened, and Anna was not here.
‘She went to New York,’ Tom told Liv miserably, holding out his mobile phone as if it was somehow proof. ‘She just flew off on the spur of the moment to save our wedding. It should have been me, Liv, but I … I let her go. And now she’s on a plane somewhere out there and I can’t talk to her. I can’t explain to her that I didn’t mean to let her down and if she’d given me just one second to get my head round the idea of course I’d have gone to New York on a wild goose chase if it made her feel better. I’ve let her down, haven’t I?’
Taking a deep breath, Liv followed Tom into his flat, into the large modern kitchen-cum-living space that opened out onto a steel and glass balcony with views across the Thames. It really was a beautiful flat to be depressed in.
‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ Tom told her, shaking his head miserably. ‘I can’t believe that one silly mistake, made years ago, is going to ruin everything now! It’s not fair. I mean, I got married in a bar, for crying out loud! Not a chapel, not even a chapel with some bloke dressed as Elvis doing the vicar shit. I got married in a lap-dancing bar, with six topless bridesmaids, while out of my mind on tequila. How can that be legal? And now I’m going to lose her. My stupid, stupid mistake has messed up the one thing she’s always wanted, the one thing I so wanted to give her and I’ll lose her.’
Liv waited for a moment or two, just to make sure that Tom didn’t have anything else to say. But all he did was stand there on his real oak floor in his bare feet, looking forlorn, making it hard for Liv not to hug him, which she knew she could have done quite legitimately, because they were officially friends, but which she refrained from because of the also wanting to throw him over the balcony thing. I mean a Vegas showgirl in a lap-dancing club? If she’d known about that from the off, she’d have realised straight away that Tom was never going to fall in love with her and months and months of secret misery and heartache could have been averted. But what really made Liv have to stifle murderous thoughts towards Tom was the realisation that despite everything her heart rate still trebled whenever she looked at him, which was probably a good enough reason not to hug him in itself.
‘To be honest, Tom, you could have maybe mentioned it a little bit sooner,’ Liv said, holding her thumb and finger up to illustrate her point. ‘I mean, you know Anna, you get her. You know that she was always going to have a meltdown about this. If you’d told her say, when you first got together, or engaged, or even six months ago, then she could have limited her insecurities to the fact that you still have an incredibly glamorous wife, and probably got most of them out of the way by the time the annulment came through in time for the wedding. It’s the leaving it to the very last moment part that’s sent her fruit loops. You know she can’t cope with the unexpected, you know she does literally everything in her power to make sure that never happens.’ Liv paused, looking at Tom, his head hanging, his shoulders slumped, his arms limp at his side as he realised that he did know all of that, and he probably knew exactly what Liv was going to say next. ‘You let her down, Tom.’
‘I know,’ Tom said. ‘I know I did. I just … I honestly had forgotten about Charisma completely, you know. It was a joke almost, a crazy thing I did when I was young. I really, really didn’t think it was real. Which I know makes me an idiot, but it’s true. Has she called? Has she sent you round here to dump me?’
Liv shook her head, went to the sofa and sat down. Outside London unfurled along the riverbank, glittering merrily, a city in preparation for Christmas, bristling with lights, like one huge Christmas tree. Funny how it did that, London, made itself look so beautiful, when scratch even a little beneath the surface and you would find darkness and loneliness and chaos. But it was always the surface that counted in this town. If everything looked right, then it was.
‘Anna still wants to marry you,’ Liv said, forcing herself to look at Tom, who was now seated opposite her, hanging his head. He looked up. ‘She wouldn’t be on this escapade if she didn’t.’
‘Really? Are you sure? When she realises that she’s never going to find Charisma and she comes back, do you think she’ll forgive me and marry me? In the spring maybe? Or the summer?’
‘I think she will, honestly. It’s just … you know Christmas and the whole thing with her mum. It has this massive significance for her, because of what happened. I think she sees it as a sort of talisman, Christmas. It’s been her worst and happiest time, and I think this wedding was meant to … bring a chapter of her life to a close, so she can start a new one with you. That’s why she doesn’t want to delay it, or have it at another time of year. Anyway,’ Liv said slowly. ‘She’s still pretty determined to marry you on Christmas Eve and until she says otherwise I think we have to assume that it will happen. She’s left me in charge of everything. I even have to go to her dress fitting in a couple of days, which, by the way, you’ll have to drive me to. It’s in bloody Surrey for some reason and you know how I feel about driving.’
Tom stared at Liv for a long moment, the synchronised lights of his black and silver Christmas tree changing mechanically on his face.
‘Why didn’t she tell me about this whole new chapter thing? Why didn’t she say that when we talked earlier?’ he asked her, repeating the words out loud as if he had to hear them to believe them.
‘Because I’m not really sure that she gets its herself, probably,’ Liv said. ‘You must understand how she feels though? Because if you don’t
, you don’t get Anna. Don’t forget, this is Anna who when she was nine years old her mum popped out to the shops on Boxing Day and never came back. Her mum, Tom. She may have been a terrible person, a drunk and a drug addict, but she was still Anna’s mum. The one person in the entire world who was meant to make her feel safe. Ever since Anna’s been doing everything she can to stop feeling like that again. She’d never leave anything up to someone else unless …’ Liv had been about to say ‘she completely trusts them’, but thought better of it as the implications weren’t great. And besides, the look on Tom’s face wasn’t exactly the one of concerned sympathy she’d been expecting. He looked completely stunned.
‘Anna told you she was brought up in care, didn’t she?’ Liv asked. ‘I’ve heard her talk about it to you, and about when she came to live with us. Hundreds of times.’
‘Yes,’ Tom said, rubbing his hands over his face. ‘Except she told me her mum died of cancer, her dad wasn’t on the scene, so she got taken into care and then you guys fostered her. That’s what she told me, that was bad enough.’
Liv was silent, uncertain of what to say. She was familiar with Anna’s pat story, the one that explained away a good deal of her unusual life without having to dwell on the seedier aspects, like the fact that neither she nor her mother knew who her father was, or that her mother had done some pretty unsavoury things to pay for her addictions. But never once had she supposed that Anna would keep the truth from the man she was going to marry, the man she was trusting with her heart for the rest of her life.
‘Oh,’ Liv said. ‘Well, I mean it is pretty shocking. And she’s done so well to put it behind her, and to move on and become the person she is. That’s probably why she didn’t tell you, because, you know, she wants you to know the person she is now, despite all of that. I mean, she told you about Regina Clarkson, right?’
Tom stared at her blankly. ‘About what?’
‘More of a who … not important, anyway,’ Liv said, anxiously remembering how, one dark night when they were about fifteen, she and Anna had agreed they would only ever tell the men who were the loves of their lives about the Regina Clarkson incident, as a true test of their love and loyalty. ‘Well, so. There. You see, that’s why she went. That’s why she didn’t talk to you. Basically, she’s frightened to death of losing you.’
‘Me or her perfect wedding, with the roses and the reindeer and the dress,’ Tom said heavily, knocked sideways by Liv’s unwitting revelation.
‘You, you moron,’ Liv said, getting up and crossing over to where Tom was sitting, his head in his hands. She knelt in front of him and lifted his chin so he was looking into her eyes. ‘Tom, you clicked with Anna the second you saw her. I know – I was there. And it was the same with her. The two of you, you are a perfect match. OK, so you’ve both neglected to mention some fairly relevant information from your pasts, but perhaps that’s a good thing. Perhaps that means that now you are both starting on a clean page, on equal terms. Don’t be angry at her for going, for taking charge, because she is doing her best not to be angry at you for forgetting about your stripper wife.’
‘Dancer,’ Tom muttered. ‘She was an exotic dancer.’
Suddenly acutely conscious that she was touching Tom’s face, her lips only a few inches from his, Liv dropped her hands and sat back on her heels.
‘Dancer, whatever,’ she said. ‘Besides, you’re right. There is no way she will find Charisma in that great big city, even if she still lives there, even if she still uses the same name. I mean this is Anna we’re talking about, not Columbo. In a few days she’ll be home again. And then you two can talk things through and reschedule the wedding. In the meantime, let’s just do what she wants and wait for her to come to the same conclusion on her own. And I bet you, that as soon as she lands, she’ll be desperate to speak to you. OK?’
Tom nodded, and then quite unexpectedly gathered Liv into his arms and held her in a tight embrace. ‘You know what, Liv,’ he said into her hair, ‘I should have fallen in love with you instead of Anna. It would have been so much less complicated.’
‘As if I’d ever think that way about you,’ Liv scoffed with bravado, whilst on the inside she ever so quietly shrivelled up and died.
Chapter Six
It hit Anna, just as they were driving down to Manhattan, across the Brooklyn Bridge, exactly where they were. There it was, New York, laid out before them, bristling with countless buildings festooned with lights, a glamorous siren, bedecked and bejewelled, arms outstretched ready for seduction. How different it felt from London, Anna realised as their cab driver sped them through the night, with varying degrees of sensible driving, ranging from dangerous to suicidal. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what the difference was, except that perhaps London was so old, so layered with history and dirt and life upon life, that her beauty was altogether more matronly than this ultimate showgirl of a city. In London, the city felt aloof, apart from its inhabitants, a grand old dame who tolerated the mass of life that crawled all over it. But when she looked at Manhattan, sparkling and sexy, it was if this city was setting out to entice her from the very start, and for Anna it was perhaps her first experience of love at first sight.
For several surreal moments, Anna felt like she was driving in a big yellow taxi straight into the movie of her own life; she could almost hear the soundtrack playing in the background, and the gravelly tones of the movie voiceover man.
‘She came to Manhattan to search for the impossible, never realising what she would discover here would change her life for ever …’
‘So where are we going?’ Miles asked Anna, pulling her abruptly out of her reverie. It wasn’t that she had intended to still be with him after they’d cleared customs, it was more that they’d gotten off the plane at the same time, their luggage arrived on the carousel at the same time, they’d stood in the queue for passport control, one behind the other, Miles taking her bag while she slipped off her coat to go through the X-ray, and when eventually they had emerged into the arrivals lounge at JFK at almost three in the morning, it occurred to Anna that this was one of those times that it was better to be with the devil you knew, even if the last time you’d seen him he’d accidentally poisoned you, than the devil who might mug you at gunpoint in some dark alley somewhere. That was if New York had any dark alleys. From what Anna could see of it, it positively bristled with lights, a veritable jewel, glowing with life, pulsating against the night sky, looking like the world’s most glamorous Christmas bauble, which should be placed atop some cosmic Christmas tree.
‘Um, to a hotel?’ Anna said, realising that her habitual forward planning had somehow abandoned her the moment she’d gotten in the cab.
‘Which hotel though?’ Miles asked her. ‘The driver needs to know apparently.’
‘And you say you don’t know where you are staying?’ Anna asked him, tearing her eyes away from the view to turn to him.
‘Not sure,’ Miles admitted with a shrug. ‘I hadn’t completely gotten to that stage yet, of knowing where I was staying. I was thinking of finding a twenty-four-hour diner and staying up all night drinking coffee and writing a song, and maybe getting somewhere to crash tomorrow. That was sort of mainly my plan. But then again, I don’t know where there is a twenty-four-hour diner, so it wasn’t exactly set in stone.’
‘Excuse me.’ Anna leaned forwards in seat so that she could talk to the driver. ‘We need a good, safe hotel in the middle of Manhattan, where would you recommend?’
The driver said nothing, keeping his eyes on the road as he undertook a truck, narrowly avoiding death by central reservation.
‘OK …’ Anna shrugged, uneasily. This was exactly the sort of uncertainty in life that she didn’t enjoy: the idea that she had no idea where she was going to rest her particularly tired and confused head for what little was left of the night gave her no sense of anticipation or adventure, just one of uncertainty and dread. ‘Well, the Hilton? There’s bound to be one of those, or maybe … an Inter
continental?’
‘Try that,’ Miles said. ‘I’ll come with you, help you check in. Make sure you’ve got a room, before we say goodbye.’
‘Really?’ Anna smiled at him. ‘That’s actually really nice of you.’
‘Ah it’s just me stocking up on karma really,’ Miles said, brushing her words away. ‘I mean I’ve almost killed you once already – if I heard on the news you’d been murdered on arrival I’m pretty sure there’s no way I’d do well at the audition. Besides it’ll give me time to keep an eye out for that twenty-four-hour diner …’
The Intercontinental, which towered above them in a seemingly endless succession of floors, turned out to be fully booked, even though it looked like it should be able to accommodate an entire universe under its roof.
‘It’s the time of year,’ the charming, but tired-looking night concierge, Horatio explained sympathetically to Anna who, desperate for a bed, looked stricken by the news. ‘The whole world comes shopping in New York for the holidays. Really, to get a decent room in Manhattan at this time of year you need to book months in advance.’
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