A Summer Fling (44 page)

‘We
think Anna is brill and we want to see her confidence levels running on full,’
Raychel nodded at the camera.

‘
She needs to realize that she is only forty years old – she’s still a baby!
’ smiled Grace.

‘When the bloody hell did that happen?’ Anna’s jaw had dropped past sea level.

‘Ooh, one day after work,’ Christie beamed.

‘While I was looking for Boots magazines, by any chance?’

‘Possibly,’ winked Christie.

Vladimir was now standing with Anna, who was dressed in ‘The Darqone’. The screen was split, showing her both in that and in her old rubbishy undies. Then she was wearing a simple V-neck T-shirt above the good and bad sets of underwear.

‘
Quite a difference
.’

Vladimir and Jane were now discussing the availability and price points of his designs whilst Maria was expertly dabbing at Anna’s face.

‘Who’s that? She looks scary.’ Raychel pointed to the little snow-haired woman with the angry expression.

‘Maria, the Romanian make-up lady. She is absolutely terrifying, but Vlad swears by her. He insisted the programme makers use her rather than their own people.’

Then Anna was having her hair done and Vlad suddenly poked Anna in the shoulder, telling her not to go to sleep. Dawn giggled.

‘This is so funny, Anna. Wonder if your Tony’s watching?’

Christie elbowed her sharply.

Then Anna was standing, hand on hip, in the most beautiful red corset and stockings. The picture segued into one of her in the red gown looking like a 1950s starlet with that most amazing hourglass figure. Leonid was snapping madly at her and Anna Brightside was beaming from the inside out.

‘Oh wow, Anna!’ Raychel clasped her hands together as if in prayer. ‘You look amazing.’

Anna didn’t say anything. Vladimir had not let her see herself. She hadn’t had a clue she looked like that. It wasn’t her, it couldn’t be her. That woman was sex on legs. That woman
was someone to sew hundreds of tiny beads onto a blue corset for.

‘
Darq Side Lingerie will be available in the High Street from the nineteenth of June. Finally, Vladimir, do you have anything to say to Anna and the self-proclaimed “forgotten women” out there?’

Vladimir Darq smiled at the camera, the tiniest hint of fangs showing.

‘
There are no forgotten women out there because Vladimir Darq has remembered you. And, Anna, I hope you are sitting with friends and a glass of sanguine wine and saying to yourself, “Darq was right, I am sexy after all”.’

Cue the music.

Anna let out a big breath. It felt like the first time she had breathed since the programme began.

‘That was so brilliant, lady!’ Christie gave her a big hug.

‘I can’t believe you did that behind my back!’ said Anna. She was genuinely moved. Were they really that fond of her? Her eyes felt suddenly watery but Dawn made her laugh on cue.

‘I said loads,’ said Dawn. ‘I expect they cut all my bits out though!’

‘Wonder why!’ Christie nudged her again, affectionately this time.

‘Dare I venture out tomorrow?’ asked Anna, accepting the offer of a nightcap coffee with a nip of brandy in it.

‘With your head held high,
girlfriend,’
grinned Christie.

The next morning Anna walked onto the train station platform and felt as if she had been rubbed over by a fluorescent highlighter. Was it always so busy? Did that fellow commuter with the big boobs and the black coat really take a long second look at her? She felt her cheeks flaring with colour. Trust the damn train to be late. Should she put on the big Jackie O sunglasses she’d brought with her in order to remain anonymous or would that just draw more attention her way?

She picked up a free
Metro
newspaper, opened it and pushed her face into it.

‘Excuse me,’ asked Black Coat. ‘Were you on
Jane’s Dames
last night?’

She could have said it a bit more quietly, thought Anna. A few people turned to take in a prolonged glance or twelve.

‘Er . . . yep, that was me,’ smiled Anna bashfully.

Black Coat’s mouth stretched into a wide smile. ‘I thought it was you. I recognized you straight away. I just want to say, I thought you were marvellous. I’m going out at lunchtime to buy one of those Darq bodyshapers. You really sold it to me.’

‘Thank you. Thank you so much,’ said a stunned Anna. She felt a couple of people staring but Anna Brightside fought the old urge to curve into herself. She imagined Vladimir Darq behind her, pushing her shoulders out. She stuck out her chest, lifted her chin and smiled.

‘So, are you looking forward to your hen night then?’ asked Raychel later in the Rising Sun, although it was perfectly obvious that Dawn wasn’t from the look of horror on her face after being reminded what was happening the following night.

So no one quite believed her when she said, ‘Yes, I’ve come around to the idea now. It will be fun.’

‘Where are you going for it again?’

‘Blegthorpe-on-Sea. Have you ever been?’

No one had except Grace. She shook her head along with everyone else though. It would have been very hard to try and convince Dawn she was going to have a marvellous night in that godforsaken hole.

‘I see Mr Guitarist is staring over a lot, as usual,’ Christie noted, pouring out the wine.

Dawn felt herself colouring.

‘We’re just friends.’

‘Yeah, and I’m Basil Brush,’ said Anna. ‘Are you going to snog him before he goes home?’

‘Anna!’ said Dawn, with virginal affront. ‘I didn’t think you’d be saying anything like that!’

Neither did Anna, but she was in less of a position to get on her soapbox these days with a head split between a possibly returning boyfriend and a possibly vampiric underwear designer who was giving her erotic dreams. She worried about Dawn. It couldn’t be more obvious to her that Calum wasn’t her Mr Right. Some days, when Dawn came into work, she looked as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, not at all like an excited bride-to-be should behave. But come Friday she was a different person, badgering them out of the door in the direction of the pub with a smile on her face. And it wasn’t because she was dying of thirst for a Shiraz.

‘Dawn, the sexual tension between you two couldn’t be cut with a Texas Chainsaw,’ said Christie. ‘We’ve all seen it building for weeks. You staring at him, him staring at you. What’s going on with you both?’

‘Nothing. Honest. I couldn’t,’ Dawn shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t be right however much—’ She cut off. She sounded so sad that no one jumped in to tease her about the unfinished sentence.

‘Ben’s a lovely kisser,’ put in Raychel at last.

‘I haven’t been kissed in a long time,’ said Grace with a gentle laugh.

‘Maybe it’s about time you were then?’ said Christie, her eyes mischievously widening. Grace narrowed her eyes at her friend and shook her head in exasperation.

Anna exhaled loudly. ‘It’s supposed to be very nice and romantic, but I’ve never really thought it was all that wonderful a thing to do – snog. Tony isn’t a snogger.’ He might have used a snog as an introduction to open proceedings but after that he wasn’t interested.

‘Well, I’m a big believer in a kiss being able to tell you more than anything,’ said Christie. ‘You’- she turned to Anna – ‘have obviously been kissing the wrong men. And you’ – she pointed a finger at Dawn – ‘you need to listen to what your heart is telling you. That’s all I shall say on the subject.’

After the others had gone, Dawn waited at the bar, watching the band. Al Holly raised his head and smiled at her and it was as if the sun had shone his full beam on her and almost melted her to the ground. She thought of Al Holly’s lips pressing down onto hers and, wrong as it was, she didn’t fight the fantasy. What was that Christie said about listening to her heart? She couldn’t help but listen to it, because it was shouting at her and scaring her.

He made his usual bee-line over to her when they had finished.

‘Howdy,’ he said.

‘Hello there, pardner,’ said Dawn.
He will be gone next week. You will be Calum’s ‘pardner’, the respectable Mrs Crooke, and there will be another band on this stage
. The words hit her hard from left field.

‘Have you had a good week then?’ he asked.

‘Yes, it was OK. What about you?’

‘I was wondering if you would ring me.’

‘And say what?’

‘‘‘Hello,” maybe.’ His eyes were bright and soft greeny-brown. They were looking at her as if they liked what they saw so much. It was almost painful to meet them.

‘It wouldn’t be right, would it? Me phoning you when . . .’
I’m getting married to someone else next week.
She didn’t want to say the words.

‘Dawny, can you come with me for a moment? There’s something I need to show you,’ he said, suddenly urgent.

‘ ’Course,’ said Dawn, following him as he marched purposefully through the standing drinkers and out of the door. She could barely keep up, his stride was so long. He beckoned her on behind his shoulder as he strode down the beer garden, past the benches filled with groups and couples and on to where the lighting stopped and the grass began to slope down to the wood behind the pub.

‘Look!’ he said.

‘What?’ said Dawn, seeing nothing but a load of trees and a grass bank.

‘The moon,’ he said.

Dawn looked up. She knew it was one day off being full because Anna was going to the Full Moon Ball tomorrow, but it looked as near full as damn it. It was huge, like a perfect hole in the sky, a portal to another world where things were brilliantly lit and clear and uncomplicated. But there were big moons every month and Al was acting like he’d been in a cupboard for thirty-odd years and had never seen one before.

‘It’s lovely,’ she said, feeling the need to say something because he was looking so expectantly at her. ‘You like moons, I presume?’

‘Dawny.’ He seemed to be having some internal battle with himself from the way he was shaking his head and puffing the air out of his cheeks as if he was in labour. Then he steeled himself and plunged headfirst into an obviously unprepared speech.

‘I shouldn’t do this, I know. I didn’t bring you out here to see the moon. I brought you out here to kiss you underneath it. Just once. ’

Flaming heck!
‘Oh, did you?’

‘Yes I did, ma’am,’ said Al Holly, and though every nerve in Dawn Sole’s body was telling her to back up because she was in danger of having portals opened inside her that made the moon look like a pinprick, she stood unmoving and let Al Holly slide his arms around her, tilt her head back and slowly, slowly press his sweet lips against her own. And it was every bit as good as the fantasy.

When he stopped for breath, she came up for air with every intention of pushing him away, but instead she filled her lungs up with oxygen and let him do it again. His body was so warm and strong against her, his arms tight about her but gentle as if he were holding something precious and delicate. She drank in the smell of him, spicy aftershave and skin and a hint of peppermint. And when the kiss came to a soft end, the words that came from his mouth made her gulp more than a salmon which had just jumped from a river onto a dry concrete block.

‘Dawny Sole, you and I both know that you shouldn’t be marrying anyone but me.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘But I am saying it.’ Al’s tender hands came up to her face and forced her to look at him. ‘I can’t get you out of my mind. The week just can’t pass fast enough until I see you again. I want to take you home with me and love you.’

‘Al—’

‘I wanted to kiss you once to see if you felt the same, and you do. I know you do.’

Dawn’s knees were in danger of folding beneath her.

‘Al, I think you’re wonderful, truly I do,’ she began, having to throttle back hard on the words that could have so easily pumped out from her vocal cords:
I love you too, I’ve tried so hard not to, but I do
. . . ‘But let’s not get carried away. This is like a holiday romance for you. You’ll have forgotten me as soon as you get to the airport—’

‘The hell I will!’

‘Please.’ She placed her finger on his lips. God, they were flushed with blood. ‘We barely know each other.’

‘Then come with me and let me find out all about you.’

‘I can’t give up everything I have,’ said Dawn.

‘What do you have? You’re marrying a man you don’t love, who doesn’t like your music, who doesn’t put a smile on your face, and all because you want to belong to a family. I know you an awful lot better than you think I do, Dawny Sole. You’re filling up my heart, girl. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. It’s knocked me off my feet and I’ve tried to ignore it but I can’t and I don’t want to.’

Dawn’s breath snagged in her throat.
I do love Calum
. She had been saying it to herself like a mantra these past few weeks. She felt she had to.

Al Holly put his strong hands on Dawn’s shoulders and squared her in front of him.

‘You don’t think you’re anything special, do you?’ he said. ‘I see it in your eyes. You think you’re not capable of making someone feel so strongly about you.’

‘I’m not special at all,’ said Dawn. ‘I open my mouth in all the wrong places, I don’t stand up for myself, I don’t know any general knowledge . . .’
Dawn Sole, your wheel is still spinning, but alas the hamster has died
. . . She thought of the unforgotten words a teacher once said to her at school.

‘Bet your mom and dad thought you were special.’

‘Yeah, well, they aren’t here any more, are they?’ said Dawn with a shrug of bravado.

‘Wherever they are, they want you to be happy.’

He was too close to the truth for comfort. Again.

‘Don’t say any more, please.’ She was hurting, but her feet were rooted to the spot and wouldn’t move.

‘One final thing, then I’ll go,’ he said. ‘You think on what I’ve said. And let me tell you that you
are
one special woman. You are beautiful and you’re funny and you have the voice of one smokin’ angel. And I’ve been fighting against this but I can’t do it any more without telling you what my heart is crying out for me to say. I want you, Dawny Sole, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life.’