by Jill Mansell
On the bright side, he surely couldn’t be worse.
For what felt like the hundredth time, Majella checked her watch. She hadn’t even had time to mentally prepare herself for this one; downloading the dating app last night had been Violet’s bright idea because – in her daughter’s blithe words – it’d be a laugh, was worth a shot and what did she have to lose? Then Lainey had got involved and an hour later, after a couple of bucket-sized glasses of wine and much swiping and laughter, she’d somehow found herself agreeing to meet Niall, a forty-six-year-old former financial adviser from London who now lived in Padstow and painted full time, because the world was a beautiful place and life was too short not to make the most of every single day and every opportunity that came along.
Well, it was a sentiment she agreed with, in theory at least. And where was the harm in giving it a whirl? She knew she couldn’t spend the rest of her life regretting the fact that she’d let a man in a kitten T-shirt slip through her fingers; Dan might have been the perfect one for her, but he’d gone back to wherever it was he lived, and she hadn’t even managed to get his surname. Which just went to show what a complete amateur she was, and also meant Dan was a ship that had well and truly sailed off and disappeared over the horizon.
Anyway, being positive, who was to say that Niall wouldn’t be better? Maybe this evening would be the start of something magical and miraculous and amazing. They could gaze into each other’s eyes and both experience a coup de foudre, that thunderclap of mutual attraction, and every single thing about him might be perfect . . .
Oh God, and here he was now, heading down the hill towards her. Awash with nerves, Majella straightened her spine and prepared to meet her date. One good thing, at least he looked like his photograph.
Although, hang on, was that a guitar on his back?
‘Hey! Wow, you’re gorgeous, how nice to meet you! What can I get you to drink? Sorry, how rude of me, I’m Niall. And let me tell you, this dating app business is off to a flying start. This is my first go and I’m well impressed!’
Twenty minutes later, Majella found herself starting to relax. Niall was chatty and easy-going, with a wide smile and well-shaped hands. The reason he’d brought his guitar along with him was because he’d been giving a friend’s son a lesson earlier and hadn’t wanted to leave it in the car in case it got stolen. Playing the guitar was another of his life-enhancing hobbies, he explained, along with songwriting. Did she have any idea how incredible her cheekbones were? And the curves of her mouth? Had she ever had her portrait painted? Because she really should, it was a special experience.
‘Seriously, I’d love to paint you.’ He eyed her with the speculative air of an expert. ‘Your eyes are hypnotic. Oh God, listen to me getting carried away. My sister’s been warning me to stay cool, calm and in control. Ignore me, forget I said that about your eyes. It’s just I’m a heart-on-my-sleeve kind of guy.’ He shook his head by way of apology. ‘This might sound stupid, but it didn’t even occur to me that I’d meet someone I really like.’
‘It’s fine.’ Majella smiled, slightly embarrassed but at the same time charmed by his honesty. ‘All that game-playing, it’s so complicated, isn’t it?’
Niall’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘I’d rather just come out with it and say what’s on my mind. And this is turning into the kind of evening I’m not going to forget in a hurry.’ He reached for his guitar, resting on the chair next to him, and slung the strap over his shoulder. Within seconds he was strumming chords and gazing directly at her.
Oh no, please no, don’t say he was about to start singing. Majella’s skin prickled in alarm and she shrank back like a slug being showered with salt.
‘Your eyes, your beautiful eyes,’ he crooned, rocking gently from side to side and smiling dreamily. ‘And your mouth, such a wonderful mouth . . .’
Aaarrgh, people at nearby tables were turning to see what was going on.
‘But it’s your soul, Maj-ellaaa, that’s won my heart . . .’
Noooo, make it stop.
‘You and me together now, never apaaaart . . .’
Majella’s toes weren’t just curling, they were turning themselves into spirals of mortification, and now Niall was launching into the second verse with increased vigour, as if she’d passed some kind of test and deserved an extra-special treat. Was she meant to be looking at him or not? Smiling as if enraptured, or deadly serious and brimming with emotion? Could the people behind her see the expanding damp patch on the back of her blue silk shirt where perspiration was trickling down her shoulders and spine?
Finally, after what felt like fourteen hours of mental torture, the song came to an end. An awkward smattering of applause broke out around them and Niall thanked his audience with a raised hand and a modest smile of acknowledgement.
‘That was . . . wow.’ Majella swallowed. ‘Did you write it yourself?’
‘I did. I’ve been waiting for someone to sing it to.’ His eyes sparkled. ‘This evening finally felt like the right time.’
‘Well, it’s . . . great.’ If they carried on seeing each other, she’d just have to break it to him gently that being sung to in public wasn’t her thing and basically she’d rather dive into an alligator swamp.
It was OK, though; the experience might have been excruciating, but it didn’t need to be a deal-breaker. Much like her very first date with Tony twenty years ago, when he’d turned up wearing a truly terrible Kermit-green corduroy jacket. A couple of months later, she’d surreptitiously donated it to Oxfam and had steered Tony in the right direction when they’d gone shopping together to buy a replacement.
Compromise, that was what a truly happy relationship was all about.
‘Are you hungry?’ said Niall. ‘Or do you want to stay here for another drink?’
He hadn’t put the guitar down; it was still there, its strings mere centimetres from his playing hand, as if at any moment he might launch into another song. To be on the safe side, Majella said, ‘Actually, I am quite hungry. Shall we find somewhere to eat? I mean, they do food here if you want . . .’
‘I noticed.’ Niall indicated the plates that had been brought out to a neighbouring table, then leaned forward and said discreetly, ‘But this is a special occasion, isn’t it? I think we can do a bit better than burger and chips.’
They arrived at Montgomery’s ten minutes later. Majella couldn’t help feeling flattered and impressed; the new restaurant overlooking Beachcomber Bay had rapidly become known as one of the best in Cornwall, a bit of a foodie’s paradise. The chef was by all accounts wildly talented. She’d not eaten here herself since its doors had opened in December, but had heard great things about the place. And the decor, in shades of bronze, dove grey and mulberry, was luxurious.
Best of all, though, was knowing that if Niall was so keen to bring her here, it must mean he liked her too. It was such a relief to know she didn’t have to spend the rest of the evening hoping he did. He’d already told her he would be happy to pay for dinner and she’d explained that she would be more comfortable splitting the bill, but wasn’t it lovely of him to have made the gesture? Plus, he’d asked the maître d’ to store his guitar in a safe place, so she no longer had to worry that he might be about to whip it out and serenade her again in the middle of the restaurant.
A pretty young waitress handed them their menus and Majella boggled a bit at the prices.
‘Cheers!’ When their wine had been poured, Niall clinked his glass against hers. ‘This feels like the start of something special, doesn’t it? Here’s to you and me.’
Despite her rosy glow, Majella couldn’t help noticing that the pretty waitress seemed to be keeping a close eye on her. Every time she glanced up, the girl was still watching, like an out-in-the-open secret agent. Maybe being super-attentive was all part of the service here. She returned her attention to the menu, debating whether to go for lobster and pomegranate salad or the scallops with prosciutto to start, then looked up again because the w
aitress was now hovering behind Niall, discreetly pointing in the direction of the back of the restaurant and mouthing the word bathroom.
Majella blinked, puzzled.
‘Problem?’ Niall looked concerned.
The waitress turned away, then looked back at her and nodded urgently before heading over to clear one of the other tables.
‘No problem! It all looks so lovely, I just can’t decide.’ Majella pushed back her chair. ‘Sorry, just going to nip to the loo, back in a minute.’
Still mystified, she waited in the cool marble bathroom. A minute later, the door swung open and the waitress joined her.
‘Hi, sorry, this might be none of my business.’ The girl kept her voice low. ‘But is this the first time you’ve met that guy you’re with?’
Majella nodded. ‘Well . . . yes.’
‘Did he find you on a dating app?’
‘Yes.’
‘OK, can I just warn you, he’s been here twice before and both times he asks for the bill at the end of the meal then suddenly discovers he’s forgotten to bring his wallet out with him.’
What?
‘Oh no.’ Majella’s hand flew to her mouth as the realisation sank in.
‘I mean, maybe he’s remembered to bring it with him this time. But like my mum says, once a scam artist, always a scam artist. I didn’t know whether to tell you.’ The girl wrinkled her nose. ‘But it’s not nice, is it? Ordering dinner and a couple of bottles of, like, really expensive wine, then making you pay for the whole lot.’
Appalled, Majella said, ‘Making me pay?’
‘I don’t mean, like, at gunpoint. But he’s being all charming and keen, isn’t he? That’s how he was with the other women he brought here. Then he made out he was mortified when he realised he’d left his wallet at home and they felt so sorry for him they insisted on getting their credit cards out. We couldn’t believe he had the nerve to do it twice,’ she went on. ‘Two weeks running. But three times, that’s just taking the . . . well, you know what I mean. Some men reckon they’re God’s gift, don’t they, and just take it for granted that single women are so desperate they’ll fall for any old—’
‘Bastard.’ Majella belatedly realised from the widening of the girl’s eyes that she hadn’t just thought it inside her own head. ‘Sorry, I can’t believe this is happening to me. I feel like such an idiot. I’m just trying to work out what to do.’
‘Well, you could disappear.’ The girl indicated the small window at the other end of the bathroom. ‘That’d be good. Could you manage to wriggle through that, d’you think?’
Majella’s mind instantly went back to the house in Bude, when Lainey had climbed in through the bathroom window and then they’d met Dan, whom she now thought of as the one who got away.
But that was life for you; it was never straightforward, was it? Also, this bathroom window was smaller than the one at the Gardners’ house, and there was no way she could squeeze through a gap that size.
As she shook her head, the waitress continued brightly, ‘Or you could confront him in the restaurant and pour a jug of water over his head.’
‘It’s a nice idea.’ Majella looked rueful. ‘But a messy one.’
‘I wouldn’t mind clearing it up.’
She didn’t want to create a scene, though. They left the bathroom and the waitress slipped back into the kitchen. Majella returned to the table and sat back down.
‘There you are.’ Niall flashed his winning smile. ‘I was beginning to think you’d run off. Shall we order now?’
There was no time to waste. She couldn’t let the restaurant start preparing their food. Mentally bracing herself, she said, ‘Sorry if this is a weird question, but we did agree we’d be splitting the bill, didn’t we?’
Niall looked startled. ‘Yes. I mean, if you’ve changed your mind, that’s absolutely fine. I’m more than happy to pay for you too.’
He sounded so believable. What if he was telling the truth? She might be about to ruin a potentially perfect relationship.
‘Well that’s really lovely.’ She swallowed. ‘And of course I’m happy to go Dutch. But can I . . . could I just ask you to show me your wallet?’
The quizzical smile abruptly vanished from Niall’s handsome face and his eyes darted in the direction of the maître d’.
‘What a strange thing to say. My wallet’s in my pocket.’
Her stomach lurched. ‘Can I see it?’
‘Why would you want to?’
Majella kept her voice low. ‘Because I want to make sure you haven’t accidentally forgotten to bring it with you.’ Pause. ‘Again.’
‘I haven’t forgotten. But thanks for showing me the kind of person you really are. You’ve made me realise I don’t want to have dinner with you after all.’ Rising to his feet, Niall said evenly, ‘No wonder you’re single.’
‘At least I’m not a liar and a con artist,’ said Majella.
He knocked back the rest of his wine, eyed her coldly and put the empty glass down on the table. ‘You can pay for the drinks. Bye.’
Once he’d retrieved his guitar and stalked out of the restaurant, the young waitress came over. ‘I still think you should’ve chucked water all over him.’
‘He might have thrown something back.’ Or worse, sung another song at her. ‘Can I just have the bill for the wine, please?’
It wasn’t until the girl glanced at the name on her credit card that recognition dawned. ‘I knew I knew you from somewhere – you’re India and Violet’s mum! I go to school with them!’
‘Oh, right.’ Majella winced; did this mean tonight’s disastrous date was about to be spread throughout the school? She’d be a laughing stock.
‘I’m Rochelle Harris.’ The girl beamed, delighted to have placed her. ‘You tried to chat up my mum’s boyfriend a while back, in the supermarket . . . You asked him out on a date and he was so embarrassed because he didn’t know how to say no!’
Gerry. Oh no, this was going from bad to worse.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Majella. ‘I had no idea he was seeing someone. I would never have done it if I’d known.’
‘No worries. Mum thought it was hilarious. She went out with a few iffy men before meeting Gerry.’
‘Not as iffy as the ones I’ve managed to meet.’ Majella vowed to knock the dating scene on the head; she’d tried and failed, and it clearly wasn’t for her.
‘You’ll get there in the end.’ Having run the card through the machine, Rochelle handed it back along with the receipt. ‘Hey, is India OK?’
‘I think so. Isn’t she?’
The girl shrugged. ‘Sorry, just thought I’d ask in case there was anything we should know. She’s been a bit quiet lately, not as cheerful as usual. I didn’t know if maybe something was up.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Majella frowned.
‘I did ask Violet, but she said it’s India’s fault if she hasn’t revised for her exams. Anyway, I’m sure everything’s fine. Sometimes I get carried away, thinking there are problems when there aren’t any. Forget I said it . . . Yes, of course,’ Rochelle nodded efficiently as a diner at another table asked to see the dessert menu. ‘I’ll get it for you now.’
She went off to deal with the request and Majella left her a big tip. Was something troubling India? Her more extrovert daughter had never been the type to worry about anything, but she’d been spending more time at home shut away in her room recently, and had lost a bit of weight. Maybe she should have a chat with her, see if anything was bothering her.
Ding went her phone as she left the restaurant and began the walk home along the seafront. Taking it out of her bag, Majella saw it was a notification from the dating app, letting her know that a fifty-year-old science teacher from Plymouth was interested in meeting her. His name was Dylan, he was very fond of golf, bell-ringing and exotic reptiles, and was looking for a lady with a sense of humour and—
No, she couldn’t do it. Life was complicated enough without having to mee
t men who would only turn out to be disappointing. Stopping dead in her tracks, Majella shielded her eyes from the evening sunshine and deleted first the message, then the app.
There, gone.
She’d rather be single for the rest of her life than endure another date like tonight’s.
Chapter 39
The sky was velvet black and studded with stars. The graceful curves of the suspension bridge were still lit up as Seth made his way towards it. At this time of night, only a few cars were visible below, snaking their way along the Portway running adjacent to the light-reflecting river.
He’d barely been able to sleep for the last ten days. This evening, his exhausted brain was still refusing to switch off, intent instead on going over and over the life that could lie ahead of him. The eternal presence of the internet wasn’t helping either, but like a drug addict he found himself unable to stay away from the endless pages of information about people’s experience of the disease for which there was no cure. It was one of the cruellest in existence. And until a week and a half ago he’d had no idea that this could be his fate. All his life he’d striven to achieve, had worked hard and enjoyed turning his fledgling business into a success. He was accustomed, too, to attracting admiring glances and attention from beautiful women.
And now, for the first time, he’d found someone who made him feel increasingly certain that she was the one he wanted to love and spend the rest of his life with . . . More than that, in fact; the one with whom he couldn’t imagine not sharing the rest of his life.
Except that was when the rest of his life had been something to look forward to, the kind you’d want to share.
But how could he even contemplate starting a relationship with Lainey when all he could offer her was—
The lights on the suspension bridge switched off, letting him know it was midnight. Seth carried on walking until he reached the centre of the bridge, exactly where he and Lainey had stood holding hands alongside Grace and the boys. Even now, as he gazed across at the twinkling lights of Clifton village on the left-hand side of the Avon Gorge, he could remember every detail of that sunny afternoon with absolute clarity. Closing his eyes, he relived the moment Lainey had slipped her hand into his. Not because she’d wanted to, but because Ned had ordered her to do it. Seth had nevertheless felt the electrifying sensation at that moment of contact and had wondered if Lainey was experiencing it too. At the time it had seemed almost impossible that she hadn’t. And as for the other evening, down on the beach . . . well, who knows what might have happened if Dawn hadn’t chosen that precise moment to come along?