Meet Me in London: The sparkling new and bestselling romance for 2020. Perfect escapism, for fans of Lindsey Kelk and Heidi Swain.

by Georgia Toffolo

  ‘Give me a tenner. I’m glad to see it go to a good home.’

  ‘Wow. Thank you so much. That’s very generous.’

  ‘You spend enough in here as it is.’ Betsy waved a hand as if it was nothing, but to Victoria’s students it would mean the chance to realize their designs. Which in turn would give them the pride of achievement, of seeing their dreams and ideas become reality. More than anything she wanted them to learn they could dream big.

  ‘This is gorgeous.’ Victoria let a swatch of softest pale-blue cotton with a wispy white swirl pattern run through her fingers. In her mind’s eye she saw her friend Malie wearing a simple halter-neck beach dress made of it as she lounged in the last rays of sun after a day’s teaching at her surf school in Hawaii. One day, Victoria promised herself, she’d be successful enough to be able to afford to fly out there and have Malie teach her some surf moves.

  She let the fabric drop as something deliciously sparkly caught her eye; the most exquisite double-weight ivory satin. The perfect tone for a wedding dress. She imagined it as a strapless bustier bodice embellished with light-catching crystals and the sheerest lace overlay, giving onto a waist-enhancing silhouette with floor-length skirt and train that glided as the bride floated down the aisle. Dramatic. Simple. Sophisticated. Modern yet timeless. It came to her as a fully formed idea, all she needed to do was sketch it to make it real.

  ‘Oh,’ she sighed. The satin was so shimmery and stunning it took her breath away. ‘How much is this?’

  ‘Lovely, isn’t it?’ Betsy’s eyes grew almost as hungry as Victoria imagined hers to be. ‘One hundred and thirty quid a metre.’

  ‘A bit out of my price range right now.’ Like, totally unaffordable. Victoria put it back quickly. But she snapped a quick photo of the label so she could put it on her vision board at home along with the design, once she’d done it – something to save up for. Something else. Along with the Hawaii trip to see Malie, paying for time off to go home to Devon to see Lily, and sticking a pin in a map and trying to meet up with globe-trotting Zoe.

  ‘Vicki, love?’ Betsy’s gravelly voice distracted her from her reverie. ‘Can you mind the shop while I nip upstairs to the loo? I’m the only one here at the moment and running close to desperate.’

  ‘Sure thing. Grab a cuppa while you’re there. I’m happy to stay a while. In fact, you’re going to have to manhandle me out when it’s closing time.’ She made her way to the counter and found a little antique cigar box housing vintage hair accessories. A clip made from pearls set in a platinum petal shape caught her fancy. That would be perfect for Lily to hold her hair back while she worked in the restaurant.

  Next she rummaged through some reduced-price fabric rolls and found some Italian white linen. It was cool to the touch, perfect for a floaty summer dress or… She swallowed at the image that had flitted through her head more than once, or twice, over the last few hours. A man’s shirt.

  His shirt.

  The man she’d not stopped thinking about since last night. Which was stupid. So, so stupid. It wasn’t as if they’d had much of a conversation.

  And who proposed to a stranger like that?

  And why? He hadn’t been drunk. He hadn’t looked desperate – far from it.

  She needed a distraction. For the first time in for ever the creative mind suck wasn’t working. She needed her friends. What time was it in… where was Zoe these days? It was hard to keep up. Mexico somewhere… She checked her world clock app. It was too early for Malie, but two out of three was better than none. A flutter of genuine pleasure floated through her as she tugged out her digital tablet and pressed the group chat button.

  Lily answered immediately. Probably because she was in the same time zone. More likely because, at two o’clock in the afternoon, things hadn’t busied-up in her restaurant yet. Or were just quietening down after the lunch rush.

  Her happy but slightly pink-cheeked face filled the screen. ‘Hello, V! How come you’re out and about on a Saturday?’

  ‘It’s only for a few hours. I’m back at the bar later. It’s lovely to see you. How’s things?’

  ‘Er… Hello?’ Zoe’s green eyes came into view, then a cheek, her rosebud mouth. ‘This had better be good. It’s the middle of the night.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry, I thought it was nine in the morning your time. Maybe my app’s wrong.’

  Zoe blinked, smoothed down her blonde hair and squinted at the screen. ‘Nine. Yes. Also known as the middle of the night.’

  ‘Sorry. Forgot you’re an owl.’ Victoria strained to see if there was someone in bed next to Zoe. The pillowcases were crisp white with embroidery on the edges. Expensive. Could Victoria see a shadow? An arm? Or was it just wishful thinking that Zoe would ever allow someone to see past her scars? Past the wheelchair?

  Lily’s eyes narrowed. ‘Where are you, V? It looks dingy.’

  ‘In a fabric shop in Portobello Road market. It’s not dingy, it’s heaven.’

  Zoe rolled her eyes. ‘I should have guessed it was going to be either material or the bar. You need to get some fresh air, my girl, you’re starting to look like the living dead.’

  Victoria laughed, but frowned. Was she pale? Maybe she should tune down the pale-but-interesting make-up a little. It was all part of her vintage vibe, but maybe she’d overdone it?

  ‘I get fresh air. I’ve just walked up from Notting Hill Gate Tube station.’ She eyed Zoe’s grin and shook her head. ‘We can’t all flit from exotic beach to exotic beach reviewing hotels and resorts and getting paid for it.’

  ‘Tough job, but someone’s got to do it, eh?’ Zoe yawned. ‘Jealous much?’

  ‘Only a little. I actually wouldn’t want to do what you do, and you’d hate my job. You don’t know one end of a sewing needle from the other.’

  Zoe frowned, pretending to look bemused. ‘There are ends?’

  ‘Yes, and the pointy one is sharp. I love that we’re all off doing what makes us happy.’ Because there’d been a time when being happy had seemed a long way off for all of them. They’d all had to fight, in their own way, to grasp some kind of new normal and she was so proud of how far they’d come. ‘Speaking of sewing, which I know we weren’t, but humour me… Zo, here’s some gorgeous hand-beaded rose-pink lace. I could make you a lovely dress for a soiree or dinner with the captain… or whatever it is you have to do.’

  ‘That’s on a cruise ship. Captain’s table. Yes, please. Floor-length as always. Perfect. Anyone heard from Malie recently? She’s not on this chat, is she? I can only see green dots on my screen for Lily and V. And Lily, are you outside somewhere?’

  Lily laughed. ‘No. I’m in my restaurant. We’ve been experimenting with the layout. Currently we’re trying a living wall.’

  Victoria squinted to look more closely. ‘What on earth is that?’

  ‘It’s a wall of herbs behind the counter. Only, I’m not quite sure about the irrigation.’

  ‘Irrigation?’ Inside? This was all just a bit too confusing for Victoria’s brain.

  ‘The watering! OK, that’s it, I’m moving into the kitchen.’ There was a blur of movement and then Lily reappeared, as gorgeous as ever with two chopsticks pinning her dark hair up in a messy topknot, her eyes shining. ‘That’s better. Malie is fine. It’s the real middle of the night in Hawaii right now, but we spoke yesterday after I’d closed up the restaurant. The surf school is going well. She seems happy out there.’

  ‘So, V, what’s happening in Chelsea these days?’ Zoe stifled a yawn.

  Proposals. Victoria leaned against a high stool behind the shop counter and mentally batted away the image of that gorgeous body gift-wrapped in white linen, although she couldn’t hide the smile.

  ‘Oh, the big gossip is that there’s a new department store opening at the end of my road. All the locals keep coming into the bar to complain that it’s going to take their business away. It’s all doom and gloom which we don’t need right before Christmas.’

  ‘Maybe it’ll be a
destination store, bringing new customers to the area and everyone will win?’ Lily, with her business head on, always saw the positive in everything.

  ‘That would be great. Apparently, the owner’s a real jerk and winding everyone up the wrong way. There’s been problems with rubbish clearance or rather, lack of. That end of the street has looked like a bomb site for months. And any cars parked anywhere near their site entrance are clamped by some private firm that charges extortionate rates to release any vehicles – people have seen the owner popping out, looking at car number plates and then talking on the phone. Five minutes later the clamper arrives. Anyone wanting information receives a load of abuse.’

  ‘Sounds like a nice guy. Not.’

  ‘Well, it was Peter who was complaining, so maybe he was economical with the truth. Or, being Peter, he may just have rubbed the owner up the wrong way.’ Victoria thought for a moment and grimaced. ‘Two alpha-holes as neighbours. Great.’

  Zoe sat up. ‘You still see Peter? Why?’

  Victoria shrugged, trying to stay upbeat. ‘I don’t have much choice. His shop is across the road from the bar.’

  ‘You were supposed to have space in that shop to sell your amazing designs. Didn’t he promise you that? That you’d go into partnership with him? Then you caught him making out with the retail assistant. Sleazebag. You should sue him for breach of contract.’

  ‘It was only a verbal one.’

  ‘And Lily should sue Alistair too.’

  Victoria glanced quickly at Lily knowing this conversation was veering a little too intimately for Lily’s liking. Her ex had run off with some of her cash and she’d never recovered it.

  Lily shook her head, embarrassment infusing her cheeks. ‘No way. I can’t afford to go to a small claims court. Besides, I feel such a stupid fool, I don’t want anyone else to know about it. Can you imagine how much gossipy Mrs Whittaker in the village would love to hear all about it? No. No way. Al’s gone, as is the money. They’re both sleazebags.’

  ‘Seems to be the general opinion.’ Victoria nodded, grateful for her friends’ unwavering support. ‘Yes, funny though, the bit that broke my heart wasn’t catching him with another woman so much as seeing all those plans we’d made go down the drain. I finally thought I’d have retail space for my clothes – in Chelsea. Every fashion designer’s dream. Oh, did I tell you he’s now engaged to the girl he cheated on me with?’

  ‘No! That was quick.’ Zoe seemed wide awake now.

  ‘Apparently, so he tells me – because he seems to think that I care – when you find The One, you just know.’

  First Peter and then Sara going on about The One. So many people thinking The One was the be all and end all of their lives, Victoria thought, with a little pang in her chest. As if being single was such a problem. She liked it. She liked the freedom, liked not having to compromise or worry about what the other person was thinking. She liked making decisions for herself, doing what made her happy. Even if sometimes she did feel a bit… lonely.

  ‘After six months together you deserved so much more,’ Lily said.

  ‘It took him that long to find out I wasn’t The One. Go figure. Or maybe it was the fact that when I finally told him all about our accident – and I mean all and what that means for me, he couldn’t run away fast enough.’

  Stupid thing was, she’d come to terms with not being able to have kids. It had taken some time but she’d processed it. She’d thought she’d found someone who she could share a life with because he didn’t want babies… until he did. And everywhere she’d turned she’d seen babies and bumps and she was left trying to process it all over again. The reminder of what she couldn’t have hurt her hard.

  ‘Oh, honey.’ Zoe’s voice softened. These women were the only ones who truly understood. They’d been there. They’d shared all of this, lived through it together. ‘Shallow doesn’t come close. You should be enough. You are enough.’

  She was and she knew it. Victoria didn’t measure her worth by whether or not she could have kids. Shame that someone else did. ‘The thing is, I don’t blame him for feeling blindsided. If I had an idea of a future all mapped out and I met someone who didn’t fit that picture I’m not sure I’d stay with them.’ Better being occasionally lonely than risking another heartbreak, or let down, or being made to feel… less.

  ‘He could have been kinder. He shouldn’t have cheated on you.’ Zoe was always willing to go into bat for Victoria even after everything.

  ‘I’m good. It’s fine. Men are off the menu.’

  ‘Amen to that.’ Zoe nodded.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Lily picked up a wine glass and started polishing it. ‘But what a low thing for Peter to do. V, if he doesn’t like you for you and only for what you can give him, he’s not the right person for you. Not being able to have children shouldn’t matter a damn.’

  ‘I do kind of feel like I’m an adoptive mum to all the kids I teach, though. My life is rewarding, it’s full. I have fun. It’s fine.’ The more she said it, the more she’d believe it. But having a relationship end in such a spectacularly gross way as finding her boyfriend in flagrante with someone he’d really only just met, on Victoria’s cutting table in her studio, had bitten into her ego a little. It felt as if he’d planned it somehow, to prove she wasn’t enough. Inadequate. Defective.

  Afterwards, he’d said Victoria had been the one in their relationship who hadn’t been truthful and that she’d led him on and made him believe they had a future together and then she’d snatched it away when she’d confided her truths.

  So, she couldn’t have kids. Not everyone could. She wasn’t the only person in the whole universe who couldn’t. Although, he’d made her feel like some kind of defunct freak.

  She dug deep to find more positives. ‘And I have to say, the prospect of a new store stealing their customers has been driving all the shopkeepers to drink, so business has been booming. I haven’t had time to think about Peter and any of that. I don’t think we’ve ever been so busy. Well, that and the fact it’s Christmas soon so we’re getting a lot of office parties too.’ Her mind travelled back to last night.

  Proposal guy hadn’t been with an office Christmas party. Maybe he’d been stood up? Maybe he’d just broken up with someone. Maybe… why did she care? He was only going to be like all the rest, in the end.

  Men are off the menu. But window shopping wasn’t.

  Lily’s mouth twitched. ‘Is flirting off the menu? Because God knows, I miss that.’

  ‘Ooh? Anyone in particular?’ Victoria asked, grateful the attention had swung from her.

  ‘Not yet,’ Lily said. ‘In a town where I know every single thing about every single man and their mothers? Not likely!’

  Zoe nodded, eyes wide. ‘Flirting is OK. Fine, in fact. Yes. Flirt away.’

  ‘What about sex?’ Lily asked as her cheeks pinked up again, and Victoria wanted to enquire as to why she was asking that specific question. Did Lily have something to share? Her friend smiled secretively. ‘Just future-proofing.’

  Victoria laughed, at least one of them was believing in a sexy future. That was good. ‘I reckon sex is OK, too. But anything emotional or deep… not so much. Avoid hurt at all cost. Live for the moment, because we don’t know how many moments we have left.’

  ‘Hey! We have many, many, many moments left.’ Zoe’s face came into full focus, along with the spectre of her touch-and-go past. They all knew that life could be literally flipped in a second. ‘We’re going to keep on doing amazing things.’

  Just at that moment the internal door creaked open and Betsy sauntered back in. ‘Righty then, Vicki, what have I missed?’

  Victoria jumped up, blew a kiss to her friends. ‘OK, squad, got to go. I have serious shopping to do. Wish me luck.’

  ‘Luck! Don’t forget the lost hours!’ they called together as she flicked her tablet off. The lost hours. Their code for call me whenever you need me. Good or bad. Emergency, excitement or exhilaration. A code born of an
ill-advised trip to Ibiza before the accident, where they’d lost Zoe in a foam party for three hours. Ever since then they’d used it to mean… we’re here for you.

  She wished they were all here, and fit and healthy and not scarred from an accident she’d always feel guilty about.

  She paid Betsy for the treasure trove of goodies in the cardboard box, reluctantly leaving the double-weight satin for another day, another life where she was rich and successful and deeply in love with a faithful man who loved her completely.

  A woman could dream.

  Huh. Maybe lugging a huge, heavy box across the market – and adding to the contents, just a little, as she passed interesting stalls with more sparkly things that seemed to call her name begging to be bought – down the Underground steps, onto the packed Tube train, then juggling it back up to fading daylight on an escalator in the middle of the crush of Saturday shoppers wasn’t such a good idea. As she reached Sloane Square station’s exit her fingers were going numb and her left bicep was starting to cramp.

  Not far. Not far. All she had to do was make it to the bar, up the steps to her flat and then she’d be able to stretch those aching muscles.

  She slowed as she turned the corner on to her street and came up alongside the huge building to her left, wrapped in white plastic, that had been the bane of the locals’ lives for the last few months. A huge sign advertised RUSSELL & CO GRAND OPENING DECEMBER 1ST!

  With rubble, construction debris and overflowing skips littering the pavement, and torn white plastic flapping in the gentle breeze revealing dirty windows, the new department store didn’t look close to being ready for then, and secretly she hoped the grand opening might be delayed just a little longer – until the new year perhaps, so her neighbours could have decent pre-Christmas sales. OK, maybe not Peter. But she couldn’t let her bitterness over him taint her friendship with the other shop owners.