‘Did you enjoy skiing?’ I tried.
‘Yes, it’s always great up there, and the views are spectacular.’ His response was more minimal than I’d hoped.
I decided to try a more direct approach. ‘I’m sorry I missed you on Sunday morning. I was still asleep when you knocked on the door.’
‘I didn’t knock.’
‘Oh, okay. You should have. I could have made you coffee,’ I added, desperate to show him that Joseph wasn’t even a consideration.
‘It looked like someone else was already making the coffee.’ Bingo – at least he was finally on topic. There was my chance to set the record straight.
‘Oh yes, Joseph?’ I said as flippantly as possible. ‘He’d called round the night before and missed the last ferry back, so he slept on the couch.’ I waved my hands about in what I hoped was a dismissive way.
Scott looked as if he was about to say something when a cute glossy-brown furry face squeezed between his knee and the door frame. The head bobbed about, panting excitedly. At least someone’s pleased to see me.
‘Back inside, Rosie!’ he ordered before turning his attention back to me. ‘Well, that’s great. I hope you two had a wonderful evening and have put your issues aside now,’ he said flatly. He stepped back and placed his hand on the edge of the door, as if about to close it. It was now or never.
I took a deep breath. ‘Scott, can I come in?’
‘I was actually about to head out.’ He stood firm, his imposing frame still blocking the doorway. I couldn’t tell if he was keeping the dog in or me out. I was taken aback by his attitude; it was a far cry from his usual humorous, carefree personality. I hadn’t expected him to be this hurt.
Dancing around the issue wasn’t getting me anywhere. ‘You’re dressed in shorts, and it’s freezing. I think I’ve hurt your feelings, and I want to set the record straight.’
His expression turned defensive; he crinkled his forehead as he processed my words. He could either hear me out or turn me away. The man I thought he was would let me in, that much I knew, but the tension of the few seconds it took him to decide killed me.
Eventually, his arm dropped from the door frame, and he gestured for me to come in. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief and stepped inside. Rosie leapt up immediately to greet me, wagging her tail excitedly. The contrast between the two of them was stark.
The small but clean hallway was painted in a light, airy grey, framed by clean white woodwork. ‘The lounge is through there,’ He signalled to a doorway on his left and took Rosie by the collar. ‘Take a seat, and I’ll put the kettle on.’
I wandered into the living room and sat down, taking in my surroundings. The modern grey theme continued, and there was evidence of a woman’s cosy touch: a damask-papered feature wall, photographs in ornate silver frames standing proudly on the windowsill, a chunky glass vase full of pebbles on an oak side table.
The room was immaculate, the carpet vacuumed and woodwork polished. I liked that he took pride in his house, even though he must have been reminded daily of the wife who left him. He could’ve been wallowing in self-pity amidst a pile of pizza boxes and beer cans, but he wasn’t. He was a fighter, a survivor.
My eyes fell back to the photo frames. A picture of an older couple stood in the centre – his parents perhaps? They were embracing, looking into each other’s eyes and laughing. It looked like a beautiful moment had been captured; it could almost have passed for a stock image. Next to that was a wedding photo. As my eyes settled upon it, a hammer fell hard upon my chest. Scott was the groom – he looked elated, smiling next to his beautiful bride, one arm draped around her back whilst the other waved through a blizzard of confetti.
She looked beautiful, her blonde hair pinned up in a messy but glamorous wavy bun, a simple silk dress falling delicately around her lean frame, the diamanté beading on her left hip catching the light perfectly. She was laughing, bent slightly towards the camera, one hand on Scott’s shoulder, and the other looked like she was about to place it over her mouth to keep in further laughter.
She looked strangely familiar, and I couldn’t help but think that I’d met her before. I racked my brain, thinking of work colleagues, past interviewees and friends of friends, but I couldn’t place her. Just as I was on the brink of madness, Scott came in, interrupting my thoughts.
‘Here you go. Careful, it’s hot.’ He passed me the cup with the handle out so I didn’t burn my hand, still considerate even when angry at me. It gave me a fuzzy feeling in my chest.
He sat down on a chair and turned to face me. I was about to speak when I saw his brow furrow, like he wanted to get something off his chest, so I bit my tongue. ‘I’m sorry for being off.’ He rubbed his stubbly chin. ‘I know that I told you I wasn’t ready for another relationship, and that nothing really has happened between us, and, well y’know, we’re “just friends” and stuff.’
He made air quotes when he said ‘just friends’, making my heart leap in hope, as opposed to the usual cringey feeling I got when people did that. ‘I don’t know why I feel so bad about you and that Joseph guy sorting yourselves out. I have plenty of my own problems to sort out, so I shouldn’t be putting a downer on your happiness. I’m sorry.’
His head dropped. ‘I’m also sorry about confronting Joseph like that. I’ve no idea how we ended up in an early-morning brawl. It wasn’t my intention. I just wanted him to know he was lucky to have a second chance with you. I hope I didn’t spoil things or embarrass you.’
‘Hey, you didn’t,’ I consoled, about to go into how there never was a me and Joseph, but before I could get another word out, he spoke again.
‘I’ll just miss your company once you’re off spending time with your boyfriend. It’s silly as I barely know you, but you’re a good friend, Mel, and I selfishly didn’t want anyone else to steal you away.’ Half of his mouth curled up into a grin.‘But, if you’re happy, I’m happy.’
I let out a long breath, the words I wanted to say expelled with it. That wasn’t what I was expecting, or hoping for. I felt deflated. He was happy to just let me run off with Joseph. He just wanted a friendship after all. It took all my strength to keep the tears that were pricking my eyes from breaking into a waterfall. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me upset. I gulped several times and stared at the limestone fireplace.
‘Don’t apologise, it’s fine,’ I said, once I was confident my voice would come out steady. It seemed pointless to go into the whole ‘Joseph and I are not together’ chat now I’d been friend-zoned as the younger people say. At least if I let him think Joseph and I had something, I wouldn’t come out of this looking like a complete loser. I gulped down a mouthful of coffee before changing the subject entirely. ‘Your wife – sorry, ex-wife – is very pretty.’
‘Yes, she was, is.’
‘I can’t help thinking she looks familiar,’ I said, making conversation to pass the time until I finished my drink and could get out of there.
‘She works in the city centre. Maybe you’ve seen her around.’ It was niggling me. I knew I had seen her before, and not just as some stranger passing. ‘She lives there now with the guy she left me for,’ he mumbled.
‘Sorry,’ was all I could offer. I took the last few gulps of my coffee. I really wanted to leave before I crumbled and the cloak of concealment fell, exposing my hurt, pain, embarrassment, or whatever it was I was burying in the pit of my stomach.
I placed the cup on a slate coaster on the side table and picked up my handbag. ‘You don’t have to go,’ he blurted, but it was too late. Being his friend was something I wanted, but I needed to get used to the idea. After spending the last week building us up as something more in my head, I just needed to cry it out.
‘I do, actually. I have to get to my mum’s house. She’s making lunch,’ I lied.
‘Oh, okay then. How about skiing? Friday?’ he asked, his tone hopeful. I supposed that might be okay. By then I’d have
had time to come to terms with what was going on.
‘Yes, okay. Shall we say six-ish? I’m still without a phone, so leave me a message at work if you can’t make it.’ I managed a casual response, but it took a lot of effort.
‘Six-ish sounds great.’
Chapter Twenty
As I neared the top of the staircase leading up to my apartment, I sensed a presence. It was a weird ability I had; it even worked with spiders. I wondered if Dan had crashed out in the hallway again. Despite knowing someone was there, I still jumped out of my skin when I turned the corner and saw a black-clad figure sitting hunched over on my doorstep. It took me a moment before I recognised the hair, and it wasn’t Dan. It was Gemma.
‘Hey, you.’ Her voice was chirpy, but her smile was weary.
‘Hi, stranger. If you’re here for that breakfast you’re about two weeks too late!’ I said dryly.
‘Mel, I’m sorry. Can I come in?’ She looked up with pleading eyes. I softened, feeling guilty; she obviously had something on her mind.
‘Of course,’ I sighed. ‘Come on in.’ I stepped over her outstretched legs to unlock the door and walked in. I heard her heave herself up and shuffle in behind me.
‘I actually brought brekkie. I thought you’d still be in bed when I arrived.’ She smiled, waving a paper bag at me.
‘Jeez, what time did you get here?’
‘About ten.’ She shrugged. I looked at my watch; it was almost one.
‘And you’ve been here all this time?’ I asked in amazement.
‘Yes. Well, I did pop to the coffee shop for a while, to check you hadn’t gone there already, and then I thought maybe you’d stayed out and would be back doing the walk of shame at any moment . . .’ She tailed off, looking me over. ‘But you’re not in last night’s clothes, so . . . you got up early?’ she asked with ill-concealed astonishment.
‘Yes, I got up early and went to visit a friend. Since Scotland, I’ve been making more of an effort in the mornings. I actually quite enjoy being out early. It’s much less chaotic, especially around the city,’ I said. ‘Anyway, you sat out there a long time. There’s obviously something you want to talk about.’ I sensed that she was ready to talk about whatever had been making her act so strangely lately. She inhaled deeply and looked down at the floor.
‘There is.’
‘Okay, sit,’ I ordered. She sat tentatively on the sofa and looked at me imploringly until I sat down too.
‘You know I’ve been seeing someone?’ she finally ventured.
‘Yes, the mystery man who has whisked you away from me?’
‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘Only . . . he . . . he’s not a man. He’s a she, a woman.’ She forced her eyes up to meet mine. I was dumbstruck. I hadn’t seen that coming. I could see she was on tenterhooks, awaiting my response.
‘A woman? Wow, I didn’t expect that, Gem!’ I blurted out. Not the best response, but I really hadn’t. Gemma had dated hundreds of men; she was always on Tinder arranging to meet guys for fun. I shook my head to empty out the shock. This wasn’t about me and my surprise. Gemma clearly needed to know it was okay, that it wouldn’t change anything between us.
I turned to her and smiled warmly before wrapping her tense hands in mine. ‘It’s fine, Gem. It’s great, in fact. Why didn’t you just tell me sooner?’ I squeezed her hands gently. Things started to fall into place – the new friends, the secret nights out and her unexplained absence from my life.
‘Oh, I don’t know. Confusion, fear, my own disbelief. I didn’t know who I was until I met Emma. We just clicked instantly. At first I thought I was attracted to her as a really cool friend, like a girl-crush-type thing. She’s very pretty, lots of fun to be around and has amazing fashion sense. I just found myself missing her when she wasn’t around, and we’d text each other late at night to talk about our day. Nothing actually happened until the October ball at work. We danced, we’d drunk a lot, and I found I had feelings for her that I didn’t have for you guys. No offence.’ She smiled for the first time since she’d arrived.
‘None taken.’ I was too shell-shocked to say any more. I gestured for her to continue. Her confidence seemed to have grown and she’d stopped fumbling.
‘Anyway, we were up on the roof terrace at the bar as Em wanted a cigarette, and it was all beautiful there were pretty fairy lights twinkling all around us, and all of a sudden she leaned forwards and kissed me. And suddenly my feelings made sense. It was chemistry. I knew I wanted her, but I didn’t know I was a lesbian, if that makes any sense? Anyway, we continued to see each other in secret, and it just felt right, despite the fact I liked men, and still do. She’s the only woman I’ve ever been attracted to.’
‘So you aren’t a lesbian?’
‘Not strictly speaking.’
‘But you have a girlfriend?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘How about Emma? Is she a lesbian?’ I wasn’t in the least bit bothered by Gemma’s sexual orientation, but I was insanely curious.
‘That’s the thing, she isn’t either. She was married to a bloke and had never looked at a woman in this way before. Love works in mysterious ways!’ She was beaming. Her apprehension had melted away now she felt comfortable talking about Emma, but that didn’t stop the shock of what she’d just said from hitting me full pelt.
‘Love?’ I almost spat out my coffee. ‘That’s fast!’
‘I know. I’m just in a bubble at the moment. Does it bother you?’ she asked timidly.
‘No, not at all, Gem. It bothers me that you couldn’t tell me. Like I’m some old-fashioned hater of the LGBT community! You know I’m all for people being who they are. False people and liars bother me,’ I scolded, punctuating ‘liars’ with a glare.
‘I’m sorry, Mel. I just needed to figure things out before I “came out”, so to speak – that phrase still makes me feel uncomfortable.’ I shuffled closer to her and flung my arms around her, planting a kiss on her forehead.
‘You should never be too scared to talk to me. I’m sad you went through this alone.’ I really was.
‘Emma was going through it too. We just kept it quiet, but now we know we want to be together, we’ve slowly started telling people we trust.’
‘Have you told Amanda yet?
‘Thursday night. She said she thought I was a lesbian anyway.’ She chuckled.
I laughed too; it was typical of something Amanda would say. ‘She also thought it was hilarious our names rhymed but was a bit miffed she wouldn’t be able to come up with one of those celebrity blended “couple” names for us,’ she mused.
‘So when do we get to meet this mystery lady?’ I asked.
‘We’re meeting Amanda for drinks on Friday. We’d love it if you could join us.’ She smiled pleadingly.
‘Argh, I have a skiing lesson on Friday. I could maybe meet you later?’ She looked a little disappointed. ‘I really do want to come and meet her. I will be there after my lesson, I promise.’
‘Thanks, Mel.’ She grinned excitedly. ‘Do you want to see a picture?’
‘Hell, yes. I need to see the girl who made you have feelings I couldn’t!’ I joked. She giggled, took out her phone and began scrolling before holding the screen to her chest.
‘Are you even allowed to look at a phone?’ she asked.
I smiled. ‘I think I’ve earned the right to see my bestie’s new squeeze.’
‘Okay, well, here she is.’ She handed me the phone. I glanced down, and as I did, my heart stopped. I already knew that it would be the girl from Facebook, the girl from the club . . . the girl from Scott’s windowsill. Scott’s wife. I sat and stared.
‘Say something,’ she said nervously.
I tried to compose myself. ‘She’s beautiful,’ I murmured, handing back the phone with my head in a daze.
Chapter Twenty-One
I spotted her as soon as I stepped into the champagne bar. She was hunched over a steaming cup of tea, her beig
e jacket placed neatly over the back of the chair, her black leather handbag perched on the table. I started to have second thoughts. What if she didn’t recognise me? Or what if she didn’t want me impinging on her peaceful monthly treat?
I’d left work early to go and see her but once I got there, I panicked. Just as I was about to turn on my heel and leave, she turned her head, and her eyes caught mine. I froze for a moment before warm recognition swept across her face. ‘Doris!’ I smiled.
‘Melissa?’ Her face lit up as I approached her.
‘Hello, there! I was hoping to find you here.’
‘You were?’ she asked, puzzled.
‘Yes, do you mind if I join you?’ I summoned a pleading expression.
‘Not at all.’ She gestured to the empty chair opposite her.
‘Lovely. You see, I’ve never met anyone who could give advice quite like you, Doris, and it’s safe to say I’ve had man trouble since we last met.’
‘Oh, I see. I’m not sure how qualified I am to deal with this, but it is lovely to have some company again. Fire away, my dear.’ She punched the air with her fist in a small yet eager gesture, making me giggle. The spark in her eyes returned. I filled her in. I told her all about Joseph and our first date, the set-up. I told her all about Scott, my week in Scotland, the brawl and my trip to see him afterwards. She didn’t interrupt me once, just nodded with the occasional ‘um’ or ‘ah’ of acknowledgement here and there.
‘Well?’ I prompted once I’d finished.
‘Well, what?’
‘Well, what do you think I should do?’
‘Isn’t it obvious, dear?’ She smiled.
‘Not really,’ I mumbled, confused.
‘You would never be happy with someone like Joseph. Obviously he’s blown his chance anyway but that type of man is no good for you, Melissa. You’d always be resentful of his work. You would never be his number one, and women deserve—’ she prodded the table with her index finger ‘—to be their husband’s number one, my dear. You would be his trophy, expected to dress up and entertain clients at a moment’s notice then go without seeing him for weeks at a time whilst he gallivants around on business. He would promise a romantic dinner to compensate, yet spend the evening on the phone, or worse, invite a client out to join you. You would be his but he would never be yours.’ She paused to sip her tea. I was dumbfounded.
The Secret to Falling in Love Page 19