‘That’s incredibly insightful,’ was all I could manage, astounded by her perception.
‘I’ve been around.’ She winked. ‘Seen the sort before. Some of my best friends lived long and unhappy lives with men like that. My Arthur was different. I was his number one. Every Monday morning, he bought me red roses from the florist when he collected his newspaper. To banish the Monday blues, he told me. He said that red roses and Monday blue made lavender, the most calming and serene of colours. Every week he did that, even when I’d retired and I no longer suffered with Monday blues. He was still buying me roses the week before he died.’ She smiled at some fond private memory. ‘Scott . . . well, Scott is your Arthur, Melissa.’ She reached across the table and patted my hand.
‘How do you know this? I don’t think he wants anything more than friendship. His signals are so mixed. And besides that, he’s going through a divorce.’ I sighed.
‘Men don’t invest this amount of time and effort into friendships with women they’ve just met. Melissa, that man is scared, but he likes you. Let him be the judge of how much his divorce is affecting him. He may well be over it.’
‘There’s another problem,’ I added hesitantly. I let her in on the whole ex-wife story.
‘Oh.’
‘I know. Awkward, isn’t it?’
‘It is, but, the way I see it is that Scott is hurt because he thinks his wife has run off with another man. He’s wondering why, wondering what this man has got that he hasn’t – it turns out it’s boobs!’ I nearly spat out my coffee.
‘Well, put as bluntly as that . . .’ I said once the shock of Doris blurting out ‘boobs’ had worn off. ‘Don’t you think he’ll resent the fact that my friend stole his wife?’
‘On the contrary, it will give him closure.’
‘Doris?’
‘Yes?’ She raised an eyebrow.
‘You’re amazing. Can I get you a glass of bubbly to thank you for solving my man problems?’
‘I thought you’d never ask.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
So, I had a plan. I was going to meet Scott that night and tell him all about Gemma and his ex-wife, then I’d tell him there is no and never was a Joseph and me. Come to think of it, I should let Joseph know that too. I’d see if Scott fancied a drink after my lesson, and I’d tell him then. I should still have time to meet Gemma and Emma after that.
I looked at my watch – it was already five-thirty and I needed to get to the ski place by six. God, Doris could natter. Without my phone I couldn’t even order an Uber. I hotfooted it round to Victoria station, where I luckily found a taxi. The gods must have been on my side as by some kind of miracle and despite hitting rush-hour traffic, I was standing outside the ski slope by five to six.
The prospect of finally talking openly to Scott was exciting. I couldn’t wait to help him fill in the gaps, help him gain closure and move on. Maybe once he had all the information and he knew I was single, there’d be room for something to happen between us. I hoped.
It got to ten past six before I started to worry. There wasn’t any sign of Scott. It was unlike him to be late, or at least unlike what I had come to expect of him, but I supposed we did say ‘six-ish’. I wasn’t sure what most people counted the ‘ish’ to mean. I scanned the car park to see if there was any sign of him arriving, but there was nothing. By twenty past six I thought about leaving; it was humiliating to still be there. Maybe he’s forgotten. Or I misheard, or misread the conversation.
I waited until it reached half past six, but really, I knew that if he were running late he’d have rung the reception to try and reach me. I felt ridiculous. He’d obviously had a change of heart, whilst I’d built my hopes up based on what Doris had interpreted, on what I had wanted. I’d given little regard to Scott’s feelings and what Scott wanted; maybe he’d decided he didn’t want to be friends with me after all.
Deflated, I wandered inside to order a taxi. The bright lights stung my eyes, which were apparently set upon transforming into saltwater lagoons. I managed to pull myself together long enough to ask the receptionist to call me a cab and scurried back outside to hide in the murky twilight. Then it came out; for every pin stuck in my pride, for every dagger of embarrassment and for the stark realisation that I was still alone and maybe always would be, there was a tear. I sobbed uncontrollably. Luckily passers-by were few and far between and it was dark enough to hide. Eventually my tears dried, and I managed to regain my composure just before my taxi arrived.
Once home, I concluded that I’d wasted enough time on Joseph and Scott. Tonight I would go and support Gemma. It would be great to catch up with her and Amanda and meet Emma, of course – despite the awkwardness. Tonight was about me and the girls. Emma was Gemma’s girlfriend and nothing else. I wouldn’t even think about her being Scott’s ex. I threw on a dark grey swing dress and black tights, and livened up my make-up with eyeliner and red lips. I slipped on some chunky ankle boots and my leather biker jacket and headed to the Northern Quarter.
When I arrived at Intoxicate, I saw the three girls already seated around a reclaimed wooden table. A sense of relief washed over me, thankful I wouldn’t have to sit and wait alone with my thoughts. I stopped at the bar for a mojito before heading over to them. ‘Hello, ladies,’ I bellowed as cheerily as I could.
‘Mel! You’re here!’ Gemma cried, standing up and throwing her arms around me. ‘This is Emma.’ Emma turned around and smiled. She was every bit as stunning as her pictures suggested she’d be and every bit as trendy as Gemma had told me she was. She was wearing a denim shirt-dress with bare legs and heeled black leather Chelsea boots, her hair long, blonde and effortlessly wavy. She completed her stylish look with a black matador hat. I was in awe.
‘Hi,’ she said shyly.
‘Hello, it’s lovely to meet you.’ I gave her a hug.
I took a seat between Emma and Amanda. Gemma raised her glass. ‘Ladies, I would like to toast friendship. Without you two—’ she nodded towards me and Amanda ‘—I wouldn’t have had the confidence to have met this wonderful lady here. You two are my rocks, and I’m grateful to you both for welcoming Emma into our group. Cheers!’
‘Cheers,’ the three of us chorused in response.
The night turned out to be a good one, with lots of drinks, laughs and dancing. Emma was really easy to get along with and proved herself to be quite the party animal. She seemed sweet too – I could see why Gemma liked her. I couldn’t bring myself to mention any Scott business, despite the fact I’d had several cocktails (some of which were unidentifiable). I would, by those standards, normally blurt out anything that crossed my mind. It actually dawned on me that maybe it wasn’t all Emma and Gemma’s fault, that maybe he just wasn’t a great husband – unreliable, perhaps! – and that’s why she left. At that moment in time I was definitely Team Emma.
Later in the evening, we were dancing, when Amanda and Emma disappeared off to the toilets and Gemma pulled me aside.
‘Well, what do you think of Emma?’
‘She’s great, Gem. I really like her.’ I genuinely did. Gemma beamed before throwing her arms back up into the air and carrying on dancing. It was great to see her so happy, yet I felt a pang of loneliness. I contemplated asking Amanda to phone Joseph. No! I scolded myself. That wouldn’t be fair to him at all.
Emma returned, minus our red-headed friend. ‘Where’s Amanda?’ I asked, slightly concerned that in her drunken merriment Emma had forgotten her.
‘She got a call in the loos and said she was going to meet someone. It sounded like a bloke she’s seeing.’ Emma didn’t seem too concerned, but Amanda wasn’t seeing anyone as far as I knew.
‘Stay here, I’m just popping upstairs to see if she’s there.’ It wasn’t unlike Amanda to bugger off part-way through a night out with some guy she’d met, but I had no idea who could be calling her. As I stepped out into the brisk air and wandered through the smoke plume that crowds every bar entran
ce, I looked around just in time to see a flame-haired woman climbing into a black cab about twenty metres up the road.
I was confused. I ran inside to quiz Gemma, but when I got there she and Emma were lip-locked on the dance floor. Great, now I was a third wheel. It felt rude leaving Gemma, especially since her other friend had deserted our night out, so I sat alone at our table like a discarded cigarette butt, nursing a drink.
Ten years ago I’d have been propositioned at least twice, sitting alone like that, but nobody so much as batted an eye at me. Gemma and Emma were having great fun dancing away to some fabulous (unbelievably now called ‘retro’) nineties tunes. Gemma whispered something to Emma, and she threw her head back laughing. Despite my misery, I couldn’t stop a grin spreading across my face as I watched them. Gemma spotted me and came over.
‘Mel, get your ass up here and dance. I know you don’t sit down for Nirvana! Ever!’ She yanked my wrist. ‘Come on!’ Reluctantly I got up and joined them, dancing until the song finished.
‘Hey, where did Amanda go?’ I hoped Gemma would know.
‘Oh my God, she didn’t tell you?’ She pressed her hand to her mouth dramatically.
‘No, tell me what?’
‘She’s been bonking her boss!’
‘No way!’
‘Yep, and it’s apparently getting quite serious. Like, seeing-each-other-a-few-times-a-week serious.’
‘Why didn’t she tell me? I thought Amanda was happy being single.’
‘You were away in Scotland when she told me, and I think she just didn’t want to upset you. Y’know, she didn’t want you to feel like the only of us who’s single.’
‘That’s ridiculous! Of course I’m happy for her, well, if she’s happy, I guess.’ I added the last part a little uncertainly, Amanda was not the serious relationship type; but if she was happy then I supposed I should be too. Still it had all happened so quickly – Gemma meeting someone, Amanda meeting someone. Soon I’d have nobody to go out drinking with as they’d be favouring cosy nights in. How would I meet anyone?
‘I knew you would be. It’s just, well, since your birthday you’ve been a bit sensitive about being single and we thought . . .’
‘It’s fine, Gem. Honestly.’ But it wasn’t. I felt like I’d been sucker-punched. It hurt that my friends had to tiptoe around me because they didn’t think I could be happy for them. I had to accept that I might be single for a long time. I had to let go of the marriage-and-kids dream and focus on just being happy as I was. I knew I could be. After a series of bad dates, the Scotland fiasco, and being stood up at the ski slope, I was tired of trying to make love happen.
‘Okay, ladies, I’ve had a great night, and Emma, it was lovely to meet you! But I need my bed.’ I feigned a dramatic yawn. ‘I’ve an early start tomorrow,’ I lied.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bang, bang, bang. My eyes opened with a start. It was daylight, but I had no idea of the time. My confusion soon turned to recognition – the banging was my front door and not the pounding of my head. I dragged myself out of bed and fumbled for the key, which had been dumped on the floor along with last night’s clothes. Bang, bang, bang. ‘I’m coming!’ I yelled, angry at the thought of Dan waking me up for God knows what at God knows what time in the morning.
I flung the door open in a fluster and stood for a moment, gobsmacked. ‘Scott!’ I mumbled eventually, suddenly overcome by a huge wave of self-consciousness. I had no idea what vision I was presenting him with. I couldn’t even remember if I’d taken off last night’s make-up – there was only a fifty-fifty chance I had, based on my track record.
‘Melissa, can I come in?’ he asked, tilting his head to the side sheepishly.
‘Of course.’ I flung out my arm, directing him to come in. ‘You’ll have to excuse my current state. I was out with the girls last night. I don’t even know what time it is.’ I rubbed the corner of my mouth, displacing the remnants of a dried dribble stain. At least I didn’t have to care too much about how he saw me now.
‘You look gorgeous, as always, and it’s only ten-thirty. A perfectly acceptable time to wake up on a Saturday.’ Surprisingly I detected no sarcasm in his tone during either statement. I didn’t understand him at all.
‘Well, thank you. Just don’t get too close. I know I’ve got morning breath.’
He smiled as he sat down on the sofa. ‘I’ll keep a safe distance. Thanks for the heads-up.’ He chuckled. ‘Anyway, I’m here to apologise. I’m surprised you let me in without at least bashing me with a pillow!’
I didn’t reply. I’d spent all of last night convincing myself that I didn’t care. Seeing him standing before me was undoing my hard work. Butterflies started to dance around in my stomach.
‘I know you waited for over half an hour for me last night, and I’m sorry. I had no way of contacting you. Sorry, I sound like I’m blathering. I got a flat tyre on the way to meet you and didn’t have a jack in the car. I called for roadside assistance, and just as I was finishing the call my mobile died, so I couldn’t even phone reception to leave a message for you. I got there as quickly as I could. It was about seven when I arrived, and Janine on reception told me you ordered a taxi a while before, and that you looked upset.’ His eyes dropped to the floor.
‘It’s fine. I wasn’t upset, just a bit miffed as I had to rush to get over there,’ I lied. ‘These things happen. I’d been invited out anyway, so it was good to be back early enough to meet the girls. It all worked out.’ I raised an eyebrow as if to ask if there was anything else.
‘Oh, okay. I’m glad it worked out.’ His shoulders sagged and an awkward silence followed. My Doris-infused bravado had expired, and I was back to feeling like Scott and I would never amount to anything other than friends. I’d made my peace with being single. ‘I’m glad I caught you today anyway. I wasn’t sure if you would be out doing something with Joseph,’ he added, obviously fishing for more information. It was really quite endearing.
‘Joseph!’ I scoffed. ‘I haven’t seen him since he was peeling himself off you in Scotland. Joseph and I were not meant to be.’
‘Ah, okay, I wasn’t sure if . . .’ He tailed off, but relief swept across his face. ‘Melissa?’ He inched closer, putting himself within dangerous proximity of my death-breath.
‘Yes?’ I answered, trying my best not to breathe on him.
‘About last night, can I make it up to you?’
I placed my hand over my mouth. ‘You really don’t need to,’ I replied, trying to inch away. He gently took my hand and peeled it away from my face, placing it on his lap. He put his own hand on my cheek, cupping my chin.
My heart skipped a beat, caught in the moment I’d been waiting for, despite being highly discomfited by my lack of personal hygiene. He leaned his face towards mine, and I knew what was coming. I was so confused. It was what I’d longed for him to do since I set eyes on him, but it had seemed so complicated, so up and down, that I knew life would be simpler if I put a stop to it, walked away. But I couldn’t. He was my weakness.
My chest fluttered as I closed my eyes, braced for the touch of his lips on mine. I paused. ‘Can I brush my teeth first?’ I whispered.
‘No.’ Placing his other hand behind my head, he gently pulled me in close. My heart pounded as his eyes fixed on mine. His face was close enough that the light stubble on his chin brushed my bottom lip. He slowly brought his lips to mine, sending a current through my body. I slid my arms around his neck as the kiss picked up pace.
Every inch of my body was alert and longing for his touch. He slipped his arm down my back to my waist, drawing me in closer. He edged his other hand down to my knee and pulled my thigh across his, lifting me onto his lap. I found his hair with my fingertips and entwined them in it. I longed to be even closer to him. The warmth of his stomach next to mine sent electricity from my belly button through my pelvis and below.
Slowly he pulled away and looked me straight in the eye, a
deep heavy stare – he didn’t need to speak and I didn’t need to answer; we both knew what was coming and we both wanted it. I pressed my lips back against his, and he heaved himself up from the sofa, wrapping my legs tight around his waist, and headed for my bedroom.
Carefully, he leaned forwards, gently placing me on my bed. He peeled upwards and for a moment just stood, looking down at me, his face intense and serious. Leaning back down, he slid the strap of my camisole off my shoulder, kissing my skin as he did, trailing his hot mouth across my chest towards the other strap before slipping the silky fabric down to my waist.
I reached down and grabbed his T-shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his smooth, firm torso. He pulled off the rest of my clothes, leaving me naked beneath him, the cold metal buckle of his leather belt pushing gently into my stomach. I leaned forwards, planting kisses across his silky chest, then unbuckled him and inched his jeans down.
My nipples were firm, every part of my body longing for his. The anticipation was almost too much. I took his hand and pulled him on top of me. I pressed my mouth to his, opening my legs and feeling him hard between them. I arched my back in readiness. He thrust himself inside me, and I almost exploded.
***
I lay in Scott’s strong arms, resting my head upon his firm chest. Neither of us spoke; he was probably as confused as I was about what had just happened. A stream of thoughts filled my head in the silence, unanswered questions: Was that a booty call? Did he regret what happened? Would he think I was easy? I didn’t have the courage to ask him any of them. Instead I waited for him to break the ice first.
The Secret to Falling in Love Page 20