Could It Be I'm Falling in Love? (52 page)

‘I wouldn’t piss on you, let alone drink with you. The only reason Simon’s never sacked your substandard arse is because he’s too bloody nice. But I’m not. So fuck off, Ballington; you’re fired.’

And Austin tossed the phone back to Simon. Dazed, Simon slowly hung up.

‘Someone call an ambulance!’ cried Terence. ‘We need to get Sue to casualty!’

‘Honestly, Terence, I’m fine.’

‘But that bitch might have broken your nose!’

‘It’s just a bit sore.’

‘But it’s
bleeding!’

‘That rancid, spiteful
slut!’
Chelle suddenly awoke from where she’d slumped in the corner. ‘That lying, two-faced, devil-bitch whore.
I trusted her!’

‘Don’t be hard on yourself, Chelle,’ Cressida told her kindly. ‘She fooled us all.’

‘But Dwayne’ll never take me back now!’ she wailed. ‘I don’t want a stupid boyfriend. I don’t care about kids. All I ever wanted was
Dwayne
. I was gonna hook up with Austin to make him jealous. I wanted him to remember how much he wanted me, so he’d come back home and everything’d be like it was. But now that evil witch Holly – Nicola –
whatever her name is
– has ruined everything with her bastard, cockin’ lies!’

‘But you and Woody …?’ the words escaped Roxy’s mouth before she could stop them.

‘Me and Woody
what?’
Chelle furiously snapped.

‘But you answered his door … You said you were busy …’

Roxy looked from Chelle to Woody. And suddenly she felt very stupid.

‘Jesus Christ
, Roxy – he was giving me
advice!
I turned up at his house over the limit. I was crying my heart out about Dwayne! Woody let me stay over. He was just telling me to talk things through with Dwayne, to tell him that he mattered more to me than a baby, when you waltzed up the drive with flapjacks. And Dwayne’s
never
going to talk to me now. Not after that evil Blunt bitch!’

Cressida comforted her, but the expletives continued to come.

Roxy turned to Woody. ‘I’m so sorry! I’ve been such a muppet! I should never have thought—’

‘It’s OK.’ Woody smiled at her kindly.

‘No, it’s not. I was stupid, and childish, and crap …’

‘You weren’t. You’re not. It’s OK.’

‘But what about you?’ She motioned towards Nicola’s article. ‘Are you going to be all right?’

‘It’s going to cost me a few clients.’

‘But Jennifer! She’ll be so upset!’

‘Jennifer?’ He smiled strangely. ‘Look, Rox, there’s something I’ve been trying to tell you about Jennifer. There is no Jennifer. There never was.’

Roxy’s mouth opened. She made a weird noise; something that sounded like ‘Mwhaa?’

But Woody kept speaking. ‘When I first moved here and started my round, a lot of baggage came with me. Nicola was right. According to the papers I was Casanova on heat – real lock-up-your-womenfolk stuff! And you can imagine how well that went down around here. This place is full of women with time on their hands. I still get flashed at now, but back then I could barely pick up my bucket without some bored, underappreciated housewife getting her kit off and trying it on. It wasn’t personal. They didn’t want me; they wanted Woody the pop star. Rejection’s not nice, I know – Petra rejected me for Austin. So I had a choice. I could either become the most hated man in the village with a client base of none, or I could let them down gently by inventing a girlfriend. So that’s what I did – with Jennifer. Jennifer’s why I’m still here.’

‘But the photo?’

‘What photo?’

‘The picture of the woman in your living room. The laughing woman with glossy brown hair …’

‘JJ?’ Woody replied with a frown.

Roxy took in a sharp breath. It had never occurred to her that Jennifer and JJ weren’t the same woman. Suddenly, ‘Hello, baby’ and ‘When are you coming home?’ flooded depressingly back.

‘But JJ’s my baby sister.’ Woody smiled.

‘Oh!’ Roxy’s mouth hung open yet again.

‘She’s at uni in the States! My parents retired down under, so Baby stays with me for the holidays. She’s back soon. Hopefully you’ll meet her.’

‘You call her Baby?’

‘Always have. It’s a stupid nickname, but it stuck.’

‘So you’re …’ Roxy faltered numbly. She could barely believe she was going to utter the word. Forty seconds ago this had been the worst day of her life. But, suddenly, everything was changing. The room had started to glow, like someone had turned up the colour knob; and the air around her had started to fizz. And suddenly Woody was moving in close. ‘So you’re
single?’
She whispered the question.

‘I’m single,’ he confirmed with a smile.

And then all Roxy could see was the golden stubble on his jaw, the intoxicating deliciousness of his skin and the magical spark of something new in his eyes that – unless she was completely mistaken – were looking right at her lightly-glossed lips.

Voices floated in the background.

‘If she’s broken your nose, I’ll press charges!’

‘I’m going to find that sappy pink cardie and shove it up her cockin’ arse!’

‘You fired Barrington! You actually fired Barrington! I’m fucked! I’m totally and utterly fucked!’

And suddenly, in the middle of all the carnage, Roxy grinned. She grinned so hard she thought her face might never go back.

To:
Roxy Squires

From:
This Morning

Dear Roxy Squires,

We are urgently trying to book Sue ‘Sugatits’ Bunce and Terry ‘Tornado’ Leggett as studio guests for tomorrow morning’s show, and we hear you might represent them?

Please can you call me,
urgently
, any time (day or night!)? We’d LOVE to have them on our sofa. Our viewers are big fans of this super-couple. Everyone loves a comeback story,
but when it doubles as a romance
 … Well, let’s just say, name your fee! Whatever it is – we’ll double it!

10.46am @FoxyRoxy

Foxy Roxy RIP I think it’s time I got a life. I’m hanging up my smart phone and signing out.

10.47am @FoxyRoxy

To all you younger, thinner, blonder blondes out there, GOOD LUCK! Go forth … bleach … have fun! #ROXYSAYS: over and out.

To:
Roxy Squires

From:
ITV Drama Department

Dear Roxy,

Really??? Is there
nothing
we can do to persuade you???

Obviously, it’s GREAT that you’re selling us the #ROXYSAYS tweets and it’s fantastic that we can go ahead with the series. But we’d be lying if we said we weren’t a teeny bit disappointed you don’t want to star! You’d be fabulous! Is it the money? Because we can increase our offer … And are you
sure
you want us to change the ‘#ROXYSAYS’ name …?

Anyway, good luck with your new business. We’re intrigued to know what it is! As promised, the money will be in your account by the morning.

‘Paradise fruit, anybody?’

Simon offered a plate of tropical-looking cakes. ‘Or if you don’t fancy those …’ He delved into his shopper for some Tupperware. ‘… I’ve got millionaire’s shortbread, strawberry tarts or lemon drizzle.’

Everyone looked surprised.

‘What?’ He shrugged. ‘The twins are on a field trip. I’ve had a lot of time on my hands.’

They all took a cake as Woody filled their glasses. In the end they’d decided to meet at Woody’s place. Lavender Heath was still crawling with journalists and they didn’t want to cause Dave the hassle of descending en masse at the pub. When they’d tried to go for a quiet drink on Tuesday, the place had become overrun. So, tonight, Roxy, Simon, Sue, Terence and Cressida were all perched on high stools around Woody’s kitchen island and had opened a bottle of red.

‘That’s a joke, right?’ Terence frowned at Simon. ‘You can’t
really
have time on your hands? My phone barely stops ringing at night.’

‘I’ve had to change my number,’ Sue agreed mildly. ‘It was non-stop heavy breathers on my old one.’

‘But have you had work offers?’ Simon asked strangely.

‘Heavens! Tons of them!’ Sue laughed in reply. ‘It would take me a fortnight to read all the emails. Thank goodness I’ve got an agent now to do it all for me.’

‘But isn’t Roxy your agent?’ asked Cressida. ‘She
did
get you your book deal.’

‘She turned me down. Nothing I said could persuade her.’

‘Trust me; you’re better off being looked after by a professional.’ Roxy smiled.

‘See? The only thing I can get her to do is pick out the outfits I’ll need.’

‘What kind of work have you been offered?’ Simon asked stiffly.

‘Ooo, well – where to start?
Graham Norton, Jonathan Ross, Loose Women
 …’

Simon’s face fell.

‘…
Desert Island Discs, The One Show, Chatty Man
 …’

‘Don’t forget our interview for
OK!,’
added Terence.

‘What? “Terry and Sue welcome us into their love nest”?’ Woody grinned.

Terence and Sue smiled coyly into their laps.

‘What about you, Cressida?’ Woody spared them their blushes.

‘Me? Oh, I’m all right,’ she replied. ‘Roxy’s got me an agony aunt column in the
Telegraph
and there are a few other offers
on the table, too. Someone from Psycho keeps calling … He’s got a big television show, apparently – although he’s clearly lacking in rudimentary spelling because he thinks “psycho” starts with an
s!’

‘How about you, Woody?’ Simon turned to his friend.

Woody laughed and rubbed his head. ‘Oh, you know, the usual rubbish. It all went straight in the bin. I’m happy as I am, thanks – the wind in my hair, a rung at my feet … a cold, wet sponge in my hand!’

Suddenly Cressida seemed excited. ‘Have you ever thought about going into politics?’

‘With my skeletons? I wouldn’t last a second.’ Woody laughed.

‘I don’t mean
that
kind of politics. I mean local stuff – grassroots. You know – motivating teenagers; getting everyone together for fetes. Communities
need
Woodys – just look what you did for us. We were all stagnating at home until you bucked us up. Lavender Heath’s a different place, thanks to you.
We’re
different, thanks to you.’

Woody shook his head.

‘No, Lavender Heath’s a different place thanks to Roxy!’ And he turned to Roxy and smiled. ‘Communities
need
Foxy Roxys. I may have got the group together, but Roxy made us a team. None of these new chances would have come about without her. I have to say it – she rocks!’

‘Hear, hear,’ Terence agreed and he straightened his Paul Smith shirt.

‘How about
you
run for office and I’ll be your campaign manager?’ Roxy offered, delighted.

‘What, you do the work and I get the glory?’ Woody asked. ‘That doesn’t seem fair. No, politics is a nice idea, Cressida, but I can’t see it working. Besides, half the village hates me right now. Thanks to me being “community-minded”, everyone’s had Fleet Street rifling through their bins.’

‘Bollocks!’ Roxy snorted. ‘You
are
Lavender Heath.’

‘Come again?’

Woody looked at her and she felt her breath get up and go somewhere else. There was no way she could tell him what she meant about him – not without spilling all the secrets of her heart. But it was too late now; the motormouth had spoken and everyone was waiting for more.

‘How many clients have you lost since the Nicola Blunt piece?’ she asked him.

‘None.’

‘And, when we tried to go to the pub, how many locals wanted to buy you a pint?’

‘Quite a few,’ he conceded with a nod.

‘See? Nobody believed Nicola’s rubbish. Face it, Woody –
people like you.’
She took a deep breath. They were only words, she told herself – nothing to be afraid of… Just a few important, extra little words after the millions and billions of rubbish ones she’d already spouted. ‘They like the
real
you,’ she told him truthfully. ‘Not just the you in the vest.’

Woody looked at her, but differently this time. She could tell he was pleased, but there was something else too – something
extra that flitted magically between them. For a moment she could barely breathe for its presence.

‘All you’d need to do is what you’re already doing,’ Cressida continued. ‘This village is too private. We’ve all spent too long hiding behind our leylandii. It’s time we came together – got to know each other as neighbours.’

Woody nodded thoughtfully. And then he turned back to Roxy. ‘I’ll do it if Roxy does with it with me. What do you say, Rox? Fancy getting the village to party?’

‘I do.’ She smiled, and Cressida toasted them with her glass.

‘I hear Chelle got back with Dwayne,’ announced Sue.

‘You’re kidding?’ Roxy blurted. ‘Good for them!’

‘And, thanks to her scoops on us, I read Nicola’s up for promotion,’ added Simon.

The room went quiet. It was Sue who finally broke the ice.

‘What about Austin?’ she asked cheerfully. ‘I haven’t seen him since that morning in the pub.’