How to Fall in Love

by Cecelia Ahern

  ‘This is the ugliest cake I’ve ever seen,’ Adam said, laughing.

  ‘It needs a little face-lift, that’s all,’ I said, prowling the aisles. ‘A-ha!’ I picked up a can of spray cream and shook it.

  ‘Hey!’ the shopkeeper called out angrily. Adam immediately whipped out a wad of notes, and the shopkeeper silenced his protestations.

  Adam held the cake while I sprayed. The first application was a disaster; I hadn’t shaken the can enough and the cream exploded in a disappointing puff of air, spattering the cake and Adam’s face and hair.

  ‘I’d say that’s twenty per cent on the cake, eighty per cent in my face.’

  This sent me into stitches and it took a good few minutes before I could steady my hand enough to have another go. I was more successful with the second attempt and covered the top in spray cream. When I’d finished, Adam looked at it thoughtfully. Then he brought the cake over to the pick-a-mix and scooped up some milky teeth, then with a not-so-steady hand, he sprinkled them across the surface.

  ‘What do you think?’ He showed it to the shopkeeper.

  The long-haired hippy was unimpressed. ‘It’s missing something,’ he said.

  I laughed. It was missing a lot of somethings.

  ‘I’d add some crisps,’ he said eventually.

  ‘Crisps!’ Adam held a finger in the air. ‘That is a great idea.’

  He directed me to open a packet of Hula Hoops, which I sprinkled over the top, and then I stepped back to survey my work.

  ‘Perfect,’ he said, studying it from all angles.

  ‘It’s the worst cake I’ve ever seen in my life,’ I said.

  ‘Exactly. It’s perfect. She’ll know I made it.’

  Before we left, Adam stuck a football-shaped candle in the middle, with a happy, ‘She hates football,’ and we returned to the chauffeur-driven car.

  We stood outside Ely Brasserie and watched Maria and her friends through the window as discreetly as we could without being seen by them or being asked to leave by staff. It was freezing outside, small flakes of snow were beginning to fall. My feet were numb, my lips would barely move, my nose had long ago fallen off my face, or at least it felt like it had.

  ‘Today I’m feeling … fucking freezing,’ I said, and it earned a smile from Adam, our earlier hysteria having retreated for warmth. ‘Do you know those girls?’ I asked, barely able to move my lips to form the shape of my words.

  Adam nodded. ‘They’re her closest friends.’

  They were all pretty, fashionable women who turned plenty of heads but didn’t seem to notice as they were locked in on each other, huddled together in the corner of the restaurant as they caught up on life, love and the universe. I couldn’t take my eyes off Maria. Again the trademark red lips and the sleek black bob, and this time she was on trend in a stylish black leather dress. She was perfect. She chatted to each of her friends, seemed amusing, interesting and empathetic to whoever was talking. The only time I moved my eyes away from her was to watch Adam watching her, and it was clear she was having the same effect on him. She was hypnotic, the kind of woman most eyes would be drawn to. And she was nice. That was the killer. I resented her more than ever, but she was the perfect girl for a man like Adam. The two of them made a striking couple, their beauty equal and yet distinct, each of them quirky and unique. Adam couldn’t tear his eyes from her, but he looked sad, as though losing her had taken away his soul, his everything.

  I backed away a few steps and looked around, stamping my feet to get warm, anything to shake off this feeling of being an imposter or a gooseberry. What had gone so wrong in my life that I’d resorted to standing outside a restaurant and watching a beautiful woman living a life I was currently envying – and not only for the warmth? It was ridiculous and I felt like an idiot, a loser at the highest level. Suddenly I didn’t want to be there any more.

  ‘At last!’ Adam said as the table was cleared for dessert.

  I had delivered the cake into the restaurant. It hadn’t been a difficult task, explaining to staff while trying to keep out of sight, that it was a surprise for the already seated birthday girl. The waitress had taken one look at the cake and laughed. Now we watched as four waiters began the procession to Maria’s table. Adam crossed the road and approached the window to get a better view. Maria looked up in surprise, then glee as surrounding customers joined in the birthday song. I noticed some of her friends at the table throwing questioning glances at each other, trying to find out who had arranged the surprise. And then the cake was placed before Maria and she looked at it in confusion, the great big mess on the plate with cream, milky teeth and Hula Hoops that had turned soggy from the cream. For a moment she wore a neutral expression, as if politely maintaining a look of appreciation so as not to offend the unknown maker, then she made a wish and blew out the candle. She looked to the girls to see who had arranged such a thing. There were more shrugs and laughs, then she questioned the waiters to make sure they had the right table. Adam watched them, anxiously, and I hoped that Maria would get that it was from him, so I wouldn’t have to hold him back from running into the restaurant to explain it.

  ‘Look, Maria, look at the teeth and Hula Hoops,’ he urged her, quietly so that only I could hear.

  ‘They have a significance?’ I asked, surprised. I thought that he had randomly emptied packets on the top, I never sensed there was a reason to what he chose.

  His eyes never left the window, but he’d heard me and he was answering in a distracted tone that made me feel I was in the way, that he’d rather not have bothered answering my question. ‘On one of our first days out together she came to watch me play football. She was on the sidelines, the ball hit her face, chipped her front tooth. I bought her milky teeth so she could wear them on the way home, and I sucked her Hula Hoops until they were soft because her tooth was too sore to bite.’

  Apparently reliving the story Adam was sharing, Maria looked up from the cake, understanding dawning on her face, and started laughing. She then calmed herself to tell the other girls. Although he couldn’t hear, Adam laughed along with her. I by then had lost my sense of humour. I wanted to go home.

  Then Maria stopped laughing and did a remarkable thing. She started crying. Immediately the six girls huddled around her and she was lost in a flurry of hugs and comforting words.

  I looked at Adam. His eyes had filled too.

  I turned to leave. At that moment I honestly didn’t care if he stayed. I didn’t think he’d even notice.

  ‘Hey, Little Miss Fix-It,’ he said softly, stopping me in my tracks.

  He held up his two gloved hands. I high-fived him and his fingers bent to clasp mine. He looked down at me and I swallowed hard, my heart fluttering at being trapped under his gaze.

  ‘You’re a genius, do you know that?’ he said softly.

  ‘Well,’ I looked away, ‘we don’t have her yet.’

  Adam looked back into the restaurant. Maria was wiping her eyes with a napkin, she looked back to the cake and shook her head lightly and laughed.

  Not yet. But we almost did.

  I felt an odd kind of relief but it was tinged with sadness. I didn’t have time to dwell on my feelings because Maria had put on her coat and was leaving the restaurant.

  ‘Shit, did she see you?’ I asked, detangling my fingers from his.

  ‘She can’t have,’ he replied, mild panic in his voice.

  We quickly walked away, moving as far from the restaurant as possible. When we were at a safe distance I turned and saw that Maria was standing outside the restaurant.

  ‘She’s having a cigarette,’ I said, relieved.

  ‘She doesn’t smoke.’

  We watched her. Her phone illuminated in her hand. Adam’s phone started ringing. He quickly silenced it but looked at the screen hungrily.

  ‘Don’t answer.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder. You need her to really miss you and want you. Besides, you’re
still angry, I can sense it. You’ll say the wrong thing and chase her away.’

  ‘Like Barry?’

  I turned from him.

  ‘Did you want him to try to get you back?’ he asked after a while.

  I smiled sadly. We hadn’t spoken much about Barry, not seriously. ‘He didn’t even try. I wouldn’t have gone back, but it would have been nice if he’d tried. He never wanted anything enough. Not even me. I know that sounds ridiculous, seeing as I’m the one who left him.’

  ‘Maybe he is trying. The voicemails. The phone calls …’

  ‘This morning he told a mutual friend of ours who we spend New Year’s Eve with that I despise going to her parties because I hate her cooking and listening to her intolerable children singing when they clearly have no talent and I can’t wait to countdown the New Year so I can leave her house. She texted me, still very upset and angry about it. I’m disinvited from her parties for the foreseeable future.’

  ‘Okay, so he’s not trying to get you back.’

  ‘No. He’s bitter. Quite twisted at the moment. I don’t think he’s aiming for a reconciliation.’

  ‘Tell your friend it’s not true.’

  I looked at him.

  ‘Oh. It is true. So you do pee in the shower?’ he teased.

  I was thanking the darkness for hiding my scarlet face.

  ‘Well, maybe not everything is true.’

  ‘It’s true!’ He chuckled to himself.

  ‘I had a mosquito bite, a really bad one. He walked in on me trying to … well, you know.’

  ‘You pissed on your mosquito bite?’ He started laughing.

  ‘Sshh,’ I punched his arm. ‘Anyway, it didn’t work,’ I added and we both laughed.

  His phone signalled a voicemail.

  ‘That was a long one,’ I said. ‘Let me hear.’

  ‘Adam, it’s me.’ Her voice was soft, gentle, it was clear how she was feeling, I didn’t need to hear any more, but I listened all the same. ‘I got your cake,’ she laughed. ‘It’s the ugliest, most disgustingly thoughtful cake I’ve ever received. I’ll never forget that day. That was the day we first kissed, with those teeth in our mouths,’ she laughed. ‘Thank you. You’re crazy.’ She laughed again. ‘I missed that part of you, but … I feel like you’re back. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I felt so … lost, I was worried. I didn’t know what to do. Sean, he was … there and he cared and … he really cares about you too, you know. Don’t hate him. Anyway, thank you. I’m calling to say thank you. I need to see you, call me – okay?’

  Adam was grinning from ear to ear.

  He lifted me up and spun me around in the air and I laughed so loudly in the dark cold empty street that it drifted towards Maria outside the restaurant. But we needn’t have worried; all she would have seen was a couple in the dark, having fun together, hiding in the shadows, quite possibly in love.

  16

  How to Organise and Simplify Your Life

  When we returned to the flat, take-away bags in our hands, we saw the lights still on in Amelia’s bookshop. It was ten p.m.

  ‘That’s bizarre,’ I said. ‘Here, you go on ahead,’ I handed him the keys to the flat. ‘Stay away from glass and electrics. I’m going to check if she’s okay.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  Amelia opened the door as soon as we walked towards her, as though she had been standing there waiting for us. Her eyes were wide and urgent. I looked around. A table had been set up with wine, cheese and crackers, there were five empty bottles of wine on the table. The bookcases had been cleared from the centre of the shop and in their place were chairs, four rows of four, with a handful of people sitting before a podium where a woman was reading aloud from a book. Her hair was a beautiful long, flowing vibrant grey, and she was wearing a slinky black dress with a low neckline revealing a toned and rather oiled-up décolletage.

  Elaine turned and waved at us excitedly before quickly turning back to face the speaker.

  ‘Who is that?’ I whispered.

  ‘Irma Livingstone,’ Amelia replied, rolling her eyes. ‘I curse the day I ever said yes to Elaine. Irma’s her teacher at the “How to Fall in Love” course, and Elaine thought it would be a wonderful idea to bring her here and ask her to read from her book. She’s been reading for an hour.’

  Amelia handed me the book. How to Own Your Erogenous Zone.

  ‘Why? Who owns mine right now?’ I asked, glancing over it unimpressed before Adam plucked it from my hands.

  An old man in the front row had fallen asleep and was snoring loudly, a young bookish woman was scribbling copious notes, and one man seemed to be trying to hide a very large erection, unbeknown to Elaine, who was making eyes at him in the hope of getting a date.

  Irma noticed Adam’s presence. ‘I was going to finish there, but I see we have company. Next I’ll read chapter four: the pleasure of pleasuring yourself with your partner. I should warn you, this is quite an erotic passage – if you’ll pardon the pun.’ She smiled at Adam.

  ‘Great,’ Adam grinned at me. ‘I love erotic passages. You girls go and talk. Toodle pips.’

  I couldn’t help but laugh as Irma’s honey voice started to slowly, sensuously read her erotic passage.

  Once we were in the quiet of Amelia’s home above the shop we could talk. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m okay.’ Amelia sat down, looking tired. ‘It’s quiet without her. Lonely.’

  ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you.’

  ‘You have. Besides, you have enough going on with Simon and Adam and Barry. And Adam,’ she added with a little smile.

  ‘Stop.’ I shook my head, not able to go there.

  ‘Barry sent me a nice text about Mum.’

  ‘Well, that’s good to hear, for a change.’

  ‘How are things going with Adam?’

  ‘Fine. Good. He’s getting there, you know. Soon he’ll be okay on his own. He won’t need me any more so … It’s great.’ I heard the shake in my voice and how fake and ridiculous it sounded.

  ‘Sure.’ Amelia smiled. ‘You’re very good to help him.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he’s going through a tough time.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Amelia was biting her lip to stop smiling.

  ‘Stop.’ I shoved her gently. ‘I’m trying to be serious here.’

  ‘I know, I can see that.’ Amelia laughed. Then her smile quickly turned to a frown.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’ve been going through her things.’ She stood up and retrieved papers from a kitchen drawer. ‘And I found these.’

  She handed me a bundle of papers. There was too much to take in, so I looked at her. ‘Tell me what I’m looking at.’

  ‘A storage unit. In Mum’s name. She never told me anything about it, which is odd, because I took care of all her affairs. It was paid for by direct debit from an account I don’t recognise.’

  She showed me the number. I wasn’t expecting to recognise it, but I did. It was the account my rent went to each month. Dad’s company. Amelia missed my reaction and so I swallowed, waiting to see where this was leading.

  ‘I wouldn’t have known anything if I hadn’t found this envelope with a key in it and details of the storage unit. It’s from ten years ago. Look at the address on the envelope.’

  The postal address was that of Rose and Daughters Solicitors.

  ‘Do you know anything about it?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Definitely not.’ Amelia’s look told me she didn’t believe me. ‘Okay, not until two seconds ago when I saw the account number. Amelia, I promise you they never mentioned anything to me. They’re handling your mum’s will, aren’t they?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Is there any mention of the contents of the storage unit in the will?’

  ‘I don’t know, I haven’t been into your dad yet to hear it. But … I really thought I knew what was in Mum’s will. We’ve talked about it.’

  ‘Let’s ask my dad.’
I took out my phone. ‘Simple, we’ll solve this right now.’

  ‘No.’ Amelia took the phone from my hand. ‘No. No quick fix-its right now.’ Seeing my offended expression, she explained: ‘What if your dad tells me I can’t go in there?’

  ‘He won’t say that. Why would he? Her property is your property now.’

  ‘What if I’m not supposed to know about it? As soon as we ask him, I’ll be sealing my fate. I want to go and find out what’s in there for myself.’ I watched as her eyes clouded and she became lost in a thousand thoughts in her head. ‘Why would she go to all this trouble for me not to see what’s in there?’

  The following day Amelia and Adam and I made our way down the corridor of ‘Store-Age’ a self-storage facility situated in a large retail park in Dublin. The doors on the units were luminous pink, as was the logo, to make it visible to traffic on the nearby motorway. It was enough to give me a headache, especially after a sleepless night spent trying to plot out Adam’s future, but I reminded myself I was there to support my friend. In truth I was glad of the distraction provided by the unexpected turns Amelia’s life was taking. Adam’s mood had dipped again as his thoughts returned to a future spent in servitude at the family firm, and my idea of that morning – to present him with a gratitude journal in which he was to write each day, listing five things he appreciated, so that by the end of the week he would have thirty-five things, went down like a stone in a well. We’d turned to his crisis plan and he had opted to clean out my fridge rather than acknowledge what he appreciated about his life. It said a lot. Clearly, if I couldn’t resolve the Basil Confectionery issue, the success with Maria would be in vain.

  While mulling that over, I tried to keep the atmosphere light for Amelia.

  ‘Maybe your mother was a secret agent and inside the storage unit is a collection of secret identities, wigs and passports, briefcases with concealed compartments,’ I mused, continuing the game we’d been playing on the car journey over.

  I looked at Adam, to hand it over to him.

  ‘Your father had a large porn collection that he didn’t want you to know about.’