by Jill Mansell
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 realize 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 laughingstock.
“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 studied 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, she 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 humor and—
No, she couldn’t do it. Life was complicated enough without having to meet men who would only turn out to be disappointing. Stopping dead in her tracks, she 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 toward 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 an 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 cruelest 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. He carried on walking until he reached the center 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?
Maybe, though, knowing what he knew now, it was a good job she had. “Hello.” The gentle voice came from a few meters away, startling him. “Are you OK?”
Seth’s eyes snapped open. A woman was approaching with care, moving slowly forward with one arm half outstretched.
“I’m fine.”
“Look, all the lights have gone off. It’s late. Shall we head back now?”
Head back? The woman was wearing jeans and a thin cotton hoodie. Why was she treating him like a dog who might be about to bolt?
“Please, come with me. We can have a chat if you like. Or just walk, if you’d prefer. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know…”
Belatedly Seth realized that she thought he’d come to the suspension bridge at midnight in order to throw himself off it. As he opened his mouth to explain, he recalled the statistic he’d read on the internet, that 26 percent of patients who’d developed the illness made serious efforts to commit suicide. At that moment, a lone car came toward them across the bridge, its headlights illuminating the face of his
would-be rescuer and the genuine concern in her eyes.
“It’s OK, I’m fine.” He shook his head and forced a smile to allay her fears. “Really. I just came up to admire the view.”
“Are you sure?” The middle-aged woman looked relieved.
“Absolutely.” This time Seth nodded. Ending his own life might be something he chose to do at some stage in the future, but not now. Not yet. “I’m going home now. Thanks, though,” he added, turning in the direction of his flat and giving her one last nod of gratitude over his shoulder. “It was good of you to check.”
* * *
The time had come to move on. By a stroke of luck, moving on was what Dawn was good at. Emotionally, rather than physically, although she could do either at a push. But St. Carys had captured her heart and she was keen to stay here, working for Berry and Dexter and hopefully advancing her career, because Malcolm Berry had already dropped several heavy hints about his retirement next year.
There was no future for her with Seth; she knew that now. It had been obvious from the moment she’d spoken to him last week on the beach. She’d asked him about whether he was already sleeping with Lainey and he’d said no, he wasn’t, nothing like that had happened between them. And she’d believed him, because when she’d gone on to ask if he wanted to sleep with Lainey, he hadn’t replied but had given her the kind of look that unequivocally said yes.
“Well, good luck,” she’d told him, because it was always better to be magnanimous than resentful and a sore loser.
“Thanks.” He’d nodded, then added, “You’ll find someone amazing.”
Dawn smiled at the memory, proud of the way she’d been able to reply cheerfully and with dignity, “Oh, I know I will.”
And it was true, because once she made up her mind to do something, she made sure it happened. Plus, last week’s FaceTime conversation with Aunt Yvonne now meant she had to get a move on.
Yvonne had moved to New Zealand a decade ago, but they still maintained contact, exchanging emails and speaking to each other several times a year. Calling to wish her aunt a happy seventieth birthday, Dawn had ended up telling her about the end of her oh-so-promising relationship with Seth.
“Oh, angel, that’s a shame. But listen, I thought you were a diehard career girl like me. I had no idea you were keen on the idea of popping out babies.”
Yvonne was a high-flying accountant who’d never married or entertained the possibility of children.
“I am a career girl.” Dawn looked down at her flat stomach. “And I never did want kids. But now I’ve realized I do. And it’s no big deal. I can have both.”
“Oh boy! Well, I’m glad that ticking clock thing never reared its ugly head with me. I mean, good luck to you, my angel, but you’re going to have to get a move on. How old are you now? Thirty-six?”
For a high-flying accountant, her aunt had a terrible memory for figures. “Thirty-seven,” said Dawn. Nearly thirty-eight.
“Then you need to get an extra-speedy wiggle on. Your mum went crashing into the menopause at thirty-six and was all done and dusted by thirty-eight. Are you still having periods, angel?”
“Yes!”
“Well, maybe you should get yourself checked out, because who knows how many eggs you have left? Get them frozen or something. Or better still, find someone who’s already got kids of their own, then you won’t have to go through any of that nasty messy business. I mean, have you seen those TV shows about giving birth? Jeez, I’m telling you, it’s like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre!”
Dawn loved her aunt dearly, but empathy and understanding weren’t her forte.
She hadn’t known about the early menopause either; her mum had died suddenly fifteen years ago of a heart attack, and discussions about fertility had never arisen.
Now, though, the issue clearly did need to be addressed, so Dawn had done what she always did when important decisions had to be made and had written a list of pros and cons.
She’d suggested it to Seth out of sheer desperation but really didn’t want to freeze her eggs, and she didn’t want to marry someone with kids either. Nor, ideally, would she choose to outsource the task to a surrogate.
She wanted her own baby, she wanted to carry it herself, and she needed it as soon as possible.
The one thing she didn’t need was a long-term partner; a sperm donor would do just fine. But not an anonymous one off the internet; she knew it would have to be someone she’d at least met in person, seen with her own eyes, and had a conversation with.
In fact, a bit more than a conversation.
This was the decision she’d made a week ago, and tonight’s unwitting applicant for the position was due any minute now. The last three hadn’t made the grade; Dawn reminded herself she wasn’t so desperate she didn’t still have standards.
Waiting at a table outside the wine bar where they’d arranged to meet up, she redid her lipstick. If number four didn’t fit the bill, she still had a few more lined up before the meeting with the fertility expert at the private clinic in Exeter. Oh yes, every base was covered.
“Hi, Dawn? Wow, my evening’s looking up. You’re beautiful!”
Turning to assess him, she took in the blond hair, thickly lashed blue eyes, ready smile, and excellent teeth. Tick, tick, tick.
“Niall. Good to meet you.” He had a guitar with him for some reason. But musicality was a definite plus, and she already knew he was artistic too. So far, so very good.
“If this is what happens when you download a dating app, I’m all for it. My first match and I think I’ve just hit the jackpot.” He gestured at her in admiration before greeting her properly with a brief kiss on each cheek. “I should have done this years ago, except then I wouldn’t have been matched up with you!”
It was a corny line, but somehow she didn’t mind. He was forty-six years old and had a nice voice, neat ears, and beautifully shaped hands. When they’d spoken on the phone to arrange this evening’s meet up, she’d suggested he come to St. Carys so they could have dinner at Montgomery’s, but Niall had said he’d had a disappointing meal there and wasn’t keen on going back, so why didn’t they try this new place he’d heard great things about in Padstow instead?
Which meant he had a discerning palate too. Another big tick.
“I can’t get over how amazing you look,” he told her once they’d ordered their drinks. “Sorry, I don’t usually do this, but…”
He was picking up his guitar, looking as if he were about to play it. Alarmed, Dawn blurted out, “What are you doing?”
“You’re so beautiful, you make me want to sing you a little something I wrote.”
“Oh, please don’t. I can’t stand it when people sing at me. If you start playing that thing, I’m out of here.” Dawn shook her head. “I mean it.”
Niall stopped and looked at her as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying. Shit, was he mortally offended? Had she just blown her chances with him? Physically, he was miles better than the last three.
Then he broke into a huge smile and put the guitar down. “I like a woman who knows her own mind.”
Giant tick. “I definitely know my own mind.”
“There’s a lot to be said for honesty.” His eyes were sparkling. “Can I be honest too? Until you said that, you were a nine out of ten for me. But now you’ve gone up to a nine point five.”
Phew.
“I’d put you at an eight,” said Dawn, “but that allows room for improvement and it’s a higher mark than I usually give.”
He laughed. “You’re fantastic.”
“I know. Aren’t you lucky?”
And when it was time for them to leave the wine bar to head over to the restaurant, it seemed completely natural for him to hold her hand in his. It felt right.
“One thing I have to get out of the way,” Dawn told him. “I looked at the websi
te for this restaurant, and it’s a pretty fancy place.”
“Only the best for you.” His hip bumped gently against hers as they crossed the road that curved round the harbor. “I already know you’re worth it.”
“I am.” She nodded. “But I’m not comfortable letting you foot the bill. I want to be the one who pays for this meal. Can you understand why I need to do that?”
Niall paused. “You mean you don’t want to feel beholden, as if you owe me something? Is that it?”
“Exactly.” She nodded, grateful that he seemed surprised rather than offended.
“Well, this is a first.” There was that beautiful tender smile again. “I can’t pretend it won’t feel a bit weird.” He studied her face, then touched her cheek, and she quivered at the sensation of his warm breath against her mouth. “But I suppose if I want to keep you happy, I’m just going to have to give in and go along with it.”
Good manners, honesty, charm, looks…who could ask for more? Well, hopefully he’d be good in bed too. With a surge of triumph, Dawn returned his smile. “I insist.”
If she was going to get what she wanted from him, it would be worth every penny. Oh yes.
Chapter 40
“Sorry, love, I didn’t know whether to mention this to you, but I think I should.”
“What is it?” Majella couldn’t imagine what Arthur from the newsagent’s might be doing on her doorstep looking so serious; he was normally a cheerful soul. “Oh no, did I forget to pay last month’s paper bill?”
“No, love, nothing to do with you. It’s your girl, India. I caught her taking a packet of chewing gum from the shop, and it wasn’t an accident. I saw her put it in her pocket.”
“What?”
“I know. I made her put it back, and of course I’m not going to do anything about it, but I thought you ought to know. Sometimes this kind of thing needs to be nipped in the bud, d’you know what I mean? Before it gets out of hand.”