No Repeats

by Emily Hudson

  ‘Dad, are you ok?’

  He didn’t return my stare, he simply stood walking nearer to whatever had his attention outside.

  ‘Promise me son, if you find what you’re looking for, you seize it with both hands, life is too short.’

  Now he had me worried, ‘Dad?’

  Turning he smiled, ‘Do I take it this is from immediate effect?’

  I considered his words, knowing full well that he’d have no problem assigning my upcoming cases.

  ‘Yes, I think that would be best. Jo is in a position to brief whomever of the particulars, she’s been a great asset.’

  He nodded, ‘Right then, leave it with me. Best that I inform your Mother.’ The more familiar demeanour of my father returned, leaving me a little less unnerved by the experience as he shook my hand. Closing the door behind me, there was only thing I could process, my father was proud of me.

  Chapter Eight

  Mark and Niall had been great company over lunch, a “schmoozing” I’d honestly enjoyed. As we made our separate ways I was already looking forward to the pair coming to London for couple of site visits to confirm venues for their event; I knew I would enjoy working on this project.

  As the guys headed back to their office, I just happened to find myself on Princes Street. I can think of worse places to be, or so I thought. In reality I had a couple of hours to kill, no money and feet that were absolutely killing me; I did what any sane person would do, tried to get onto an earlier train.

  One unsuccessful attempt later I became the newest resident to set up camp in the station cafe; ordering a coffee, I opened my laptop to start my debrief to Carole. Thankfully despite the comings and goings, I had a productive afternoon; that, however, meant I was alone with my thoughts for the four-and-a-half-hour journey back home.

  I’d barely had five minutes to myself in the last few months so I took this as an opportunity to really consider what I wanted from life. Deciding to take this seriously, I fished around inside my bag for a pen and opened my newly purchased notebook. My guilty secret stationery fetish was particularly hard to resist in train stations when unoccupied. Smoothing down the first page I began to write. ME the heading simply contained. Staring blankly out of the window, I considered - who the hell was I? I knew who Lucy the employee was. I knew what to expect and what was expected of me at work; maybe that’s why I had thrown myself into work after Will. Work had been predictable, a constant in my life but with Carole’s recent threatening attitude, making sure that everyone knew they were replaceable, I’m realising that I’m just as expendable there as I was to my once perfect boyfriend. Ok, maybe I was being a little melodramatic; at least if I was usurped at work I’d get notice, not just walk in, as I had done on Will to find him balls deep in some red head. I felt physically sick as I shook the image away that so clearly still invaded my head. Now more than ever I needed to take the plunge, start out on my own, get out of my flat and start living the life I want to. Alicia had been telling me for months I’d been running myself into the ground and she was right; I need to take more time for me. I’m not even sure what I like doing for fun anymore. Having had my heart to heart with the toughened glass as the world whizzed by, I toyed with what I knew already.

  ME

  Lucy Jasmine Crawford - Age 26 – Feeling 56!

  What do I like about myself?

  Jury still out! Struggling I lamely added, I’ve got great hair.

  What I least like about myself?

  Inability to accept help, my parents, Alicia’s.

  Traits – Hardworking, passionate, active, independent, ambitious, trustworthy. Frustratingly too trustworthy!

  Once I’d attempted not to completely character assassinate myself I moved on to what I wanted from life. I’m sure I’d completed some sort of activity like this in college during a career chat, my tutor would be proud.

  Where/what do I want to be in ten years?

  HAPPY! Financially secure.

  Running my own Event Management Company.

  Owning my own house, sharing it with someone? Kids?

  What do I need to do to get there?

  Move out of my crappy flat preferably without kicking my sleazy landlord in the balls.

  Tell my she-devil of a boss to go to hell.

  Find someone who can love me for being me and I can love back equally.

  Not work all hours of the day.

  Stop thinking about spectacularly great sex had on a one night stand. It’s not happening again! NO REPEATS. He’s moved on, so should you!

  Sadly, with the last point stuck in my mind, I failed on numerous occasions to erase it from my memory. Even as tiredness got the better of me once I was safely curled up back in Alicia’s spare room, it was the image of Marcus I clung to as my eyes drifted off.

  Living at Alicia’s had somewhat thrown my fitness regime out of the window, despite the fully equipped gym in their basement; I strangely never made my way to it, probably something to do with the luxurious downy feathers that made me want to stay in bed a little longer, wrapped up in this little piece of heaven. Irritatingly the shrill of my phone alerted me to a meeting I had this morning; time to put my game face on.

  Thankfully I was meeting Drew and we went back years. Drew, was an agent to couple of stars we wanted to book for a high-profile event later in the year and a very dear acquaintance. His penchant for phenomenal pancake breakfast meetings were renowned which was great; a bacon roll just wouldn’t cut it this morning. ‘Soho please.’ I instructed the cabbie.

  Apart from the interruption from the ‘she devil’, my morning had been quite pleasant. ‘Where are you?’ she barked as I made my way back to the office.

  ‘Can’t you appreciate we are short staffed, I need you here, schedule all meetings here!’ Her voice ascending to a near ear-splitting shriek. Having explained I was only a few moments away she seemed placated. ‘Oh, and I need to remind you, you cannot have personal deliveries delivered to the office, really I’m busy enough and now they are taking up most of your desk, it doesn’t set a good example Lucy.’

  Okay, so it’s have a go at Lucy day, at least I’m prepared now. I didn’t think too much about the deliveries, they were probably to do with work anyway; who would send me anything?

  The moment I pushed open the office door I couldn’t fail to notice the array of boxes on my desk. Lizzy rushed to my side. ‘I take it the wedding went well?’ she said prying for information.

  ‘It was beautiful…’ I started.

  ‘I take it you caught the bouquet? Looking at all this, you’ll be next.’

  Lifting a large tall box from behind my desk. ‘These came on Tuesday afternoon just after you left.’

  Opening the box I pulled out a tall vase containing stargazer lilies, as I did a card fluttered down to my feet. Lizzy was straight off the mark, swooping down to collect it.

  ‘Thank you!’ I said, snatching it back. Lizzy knew everything there was to know in the office, I was damned if she’d know this before me.

  As these open they will still pale in comparison to your beauty.

  Prepare yourself to be wooed Lucy.

  As Lizzy started to peer over my shoulder I closed the card sharpish, I took a sharp intake of breath as I held the card to my chest.

  ‘Stop blushing and open the rest, this is killing me. This one came first thing Wednesday.’ Lizzy said indicating to the large hamper in the middle of my desk. The card attached had me beetroot by the end by the time I’d finished reading.

  I woke wanting to kiss you,

  I’ve thought of nothing else since.

  So, this is my chance to say,

  good morning beautiful.

  I hope you think of me too.

  ‘Well open it then.’ Lizzy urged.

  Panic set in, what if there was something inappropriate in here? Would he do that? Cautiously I lifted the wicker top, phew! The centrepiece a ‘Good Morning Beautiful’ mug with a selection of breakfast tea and coffe
e, marmalade, orange juice with a selection of pastries each individually wrapped. I shut the lid as Carole walked in with her coffee.

  ‘I am not your personal courier.’ She said passing over a smaller package. Stopping to look at Lizzy her venom didn’t abate, ‘Are you two going to do any work?’ she hissed. Lizzy bolted back to her desk shuffling paper. However, the moment our boss slammed her door shut, she was straight back beside me, pointing to a bright red envelope. Enough already this never happened to me, I was going to enjoy. Inside a card, handwritten.

  I went to a really emotional wedding the other day.

  Even the cake was in tiers.

  Forgive me for the lame joke, I wanted to be the reason you smiled today.

  ‘Little does he know he is the whole reason I’m smiling today.’ I admitted aloud. ‘Ahh’ Lizzy cooed, back at her desk. ‘Just one left now, I’m guessing jewellery.’

  Oh goodness, I hope not.

  ‘One way to find out,’ she added watching my apprehension. I looked back at my colleague.

  ‘You are enjoying this far too much.’

  She nodded, ‘Honey, I’ve been married for ten years, the most romantic gift I’ve been given is a food processor, because he likes my cooking. So, forgive me but I’m living through you, so get on with it.’

  Fiddling with the packaging I pulled out the inner container, I burst out laughing, I think the relief of not finding something as clichéd as jewellery. No, inside was two heart shaped sparklers. ‘What does it say?’

  You set my heart a flame, I’d like to recreate the fireworks.

  Have dinner with me, OroBianco, Friday at 7pm.

  With the butterflies set to a spin cycle in my stomach, I took a deep breath.

  ‘Oh, he’s a keeper. Have you seen the reviews for that place? I heard there’s a three month waiting list.’

  I dialled the number on the card; the call diverted to, ‘Davenport Chambers, Joanne speaking, how may I help you.’ I stuttered not expecting the female voice.

  ‘Umm, Hi Joanne, my name is Lucy Crawford, I’m trying to get hold of Marcus but his mobile has diverted to you. Joanne’s tone noticeably changed. ‘Ah yes, well, Mr Davenport is unavailable at present, could someone else help with your enquiry?’ With the curt response, I stuttered my response. ‘Well, er, no, if he becomes available could you let him know I called.’ Positively odd, I thought as I replaced the receiver, double checking the number on the card.

  Sitting staring at the computer screen, I wasn’t about to give up, he must think me rude not replying. Searching the internet I found an email address and set to, trying to compose an email. What did I start with? He’d obviously forgiven me for walking out on him. Could I admit I’d been thinking of him too? Memories of our night still gave me goosebumps. But then let’s not forget I saw him with that raven haired beauty, not two days ago. This is how you get hurt Lucy, I warned myself. The thing is, he’s already got to me, I hadn’t really wanted to escape that morning, I didn’t really want to leave. Now the danger was, not that I’d fall, I’d already fallen; it was how my wounded heart would cope if I took the plunge again. With that my office phone rang, ‘Lucy?’ his smooth voice sounded, I gasped realising it was him.

  ‘Marcus?’ I replied with some degree of shock in my voice.

  ‘I’m sorry I missed your call, I’m just a little tied up at the moment.’ Just hearing his voice made those butterflies take fight again.

  ‘Yes your assistant mentioned you were unavailable.’

  He sighed loudly, ‘I bet she did? Long story, one I won’t bore you with now, just tell me the answer is yes.’

  My heart galloped as I breathed, ‘Yes.’ I could hear him exhale. ‘Friday can’t come round soon enough, until then.’

  No he couldn’t go yet, ‘Err…Thank you, the flowers, for everything.’ I blurted out, sounding half crazed.

  ‘You don’t have to thank me, this is just the beginning.’ Then he was gone. I slumped back in my chair.

  ‘Well?’ an intrigued Lizzy asked.

  ‘I have a date on Friday!’

  * * *

  Friday came around quickly, thankfully. I was a bundle of bouncing nervous energy all day. The single red rose he sent me this morning had only made things worse. Waiting for my soup to ping at lunch, I paced around the breakout area plotting my plan of action once I’d finished work. I’d have to go back to my flat, get back to Alicia’s, perhaps cram in a swim, doll myself up then…must remember to book a taxi.

  Sadly, there had been no time for a swim; I’d crept back to my place I’d managed to picked up a couple of dresses before there was a knock at the door. My landlord, with official notice that the he was raising the rent in a month.

  ‘Cost of living is rising love. The letter contains everything you need to know. We can always come to that little arrangement.’ His hand lingered as he placed the letter in my hand.

  ‘That will not be necessary.’ I bit back sharply, irritated, angry and repulsed all at once. 10 percent!

  He will not ruin my mood, he will not! I kept repeating my mantra as I stood in a packed station full of commuters, all with their own priorities, one of which obviously hadn’t been deodorant for the guy standing next to me. Ugh! It was already ten past six when I got back to Licia’s, forget the swim! Panic Stations!

  Checking my watch for the umpteenth time, it was one minute to seven the moment I pulled up outside the restaurant. I was obsessive about time keeping, a disorder that even the thought of being late for anything sent a shiver down my spine. Craning my neck round, I surveyed the restaurant as I waited for the maître d’. I couldn’t see him, perhaps he was already seated? As the maître d’ made her way to me, I could have sworn I’d seen her before. Skinny to the point she could be considered anorexic, red hair, could it be? Last seen in a state of undress. We eyed each other suspiciously, yes definitely her.

  ‘I have a reservation, Davenport, Marcus Davenport.’ I said curtly, rising above the awkward situation. Let her know I’ve moved on and with whom. Stuff that up your bony arse.

  ‘Mr Davenport hasn’t arrived yet would you like to wait at the bar or table?’ I chose wisely, the bar was at the other end of the room, furthest away from her.

  Forty-five, seriously forty-five minutes, two manhattans and a glass of water later, I looked up at the bar man, who was now looking on with more than a degree of pity. ‘Another?’ he offered.

  With my table gone, I laughed, looking at my phone, ‘How long is long enough before you accept you’ve been stood up?’ Of course, there would be no messages, he didn’t have my number. Was this some kind of fucked up way to get back at me for walking out on him.

  ‘This one’s on the house.’ The barman said kindly, placing some orange peel around the rim of the glass.

  ‘Here’s to Marcus Davenport,’ I said dryly as I raised the glass.

  ‘Davenport?’ He questioned.

  ‘Uh ha.’ I confirmed swallowing the mellow amber liquid.

  ‘I took that call myself a couple of hours ago, Caroline knew full well. Mr Davenport couldn’t contact you but he wanted us to pass on his apologies, he was very concerned on the phone.’

  I blew out a breath, ‘And the bitch at the door, that slept with my ex knew that, of course she did. The alcohol was clearly loosening my tongue. The barman calmly walked around from the bar and approached the manipulative maitre’d, herding her out towards the back and just as you would expect in an establishment such as this, like a finely oiled machine, another young man stepped in and resumed her duties. Slick, very slick.

  Returning alone, my now favourite barman came alongside, ‘I can only apologise, Miss…’

  ‘Lucy.’ I said. ‘Hey don’t apologise, it wasn’t your fault, you make a pretty mean Manhattan and if it weren’t for you, well I could have been here all night.’

  ‘You would have stayed all night?’

  ‘Like I said, they’re good Manhattans. Anyway, I feel I should know your name
.’

  He smiled, ‘Gus Rutherford, at your service.’

  I gawked, ‘As in ‘The Gus Rutherford’ owner of everything we see before us.’

  He gave a slightly embarrassed giggle at the flattery.

  ‘But why behind the bar?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m no chef, this was where I started, it’s what I enjoy and needless to say, I see all.’ He said with a wink. ‘Hey, you must be famished, it’s time I took a break, will you join me?’

  One signature white truffle risotto dish later, I was decidedly stuffed and had lined him up to provide quotes for a couple of catering opportunities worth potentially tens of thousands. ‘It pays for strangers to take pity on you.’ I joked as he escorted me to my awaiting taxi. ‘I never pitied you, I pity the fool that stood you up, I hope he has a good reason. Nevertheless, I’m selfishly glad he did, we’re strangers no more Lucy, send me the briefs and I’ll prepare the quotes. Take care.’

  Chapter Nine

  Kitty’s call had come completely out of the blue. ‘I’m not feeling too good.’ It was all she needed to say; I shot out to the car, arriving in good time but nothing could prepare me for what happened next.

  The waiting seemed endless but over in a blur at the same time, if that makes sense; sure as hell, nothing makes sense to me right now. All I know is she isn’t here anymore, she’s not sleeping, her light has been extinguished; the pain was too much.

  Watching on as the doctor made her final checks, Livvy and I silently said our goodbyes, holding onto each other as though our lives depended on it. There had been nothing anyone could do, the leukaemia had been too advanced, her immunity too low, too frail to cope with the treatment.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated, pleading for more pain relief. It was the only thing we could offer.

  I watched the morphine disappear from the small glass vile as it was drawn up before it was administered. We had been told to prepare ourselves for the inevitable, it could take a few days for her to slip away but her pain would be gone. Days or more, I knew neither Livvy or I would leave her side but a mere thirty minutes later, she was gone.