French Kissing (17 page)

There was a heavy silence, and then Vicky said, ‘
Please
, Anna. I
can't
mess this up.'

I sighed. ‘Does your prom have a theme?'

‘A theme? Not really. It's, you know, a senior prom.'

‘So we're talking girls in evening gowns and boys in tuxes? Stretch limos?'

‘Oh,
yes!
' Vicky said. ‘And a prom king and queen.' In a timid voice, she added, ‘So will you help me with the posters and the other stuff?'

I looked towards the creatives' end of the office. Izzy and Alfie were working at their adjacent desks. Spinning around in her swivel chair, she tapped him on the arm to get his attention. Once he'd removed his earphones, she asked him a question, and he leant across to point at something on her screen. An idea began to take shape in my head.

‘Anna?' Vicky said. ‘
Please.
I'm
desperate.
'

‘I'll see what I can do.'

Vicky actually screamed. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are the best sister
ever.
'

‘Email me all the details,' I said. ‘Date, time, venue.' I couldn't resist adding, ‘Asap.'

‘I'll do it now. Love you.'

‘Bye, Vicky. Love you too.' I ended the call.

To my surprise, because my sister was the least organised girl I knew, her email arrived almost immediately. She'd included all the information I'd asked for, and had even attached the minutes for the most recent meeting of the Prom Committee.

Meet my little sister – the event manager. I hoped she would put as much effort into her exam revision.

I got up from my desk, fetched two coffees from the machine, and walked over to Izzy and Alfie.

‘Hey, guys,' I said, putting a coffee on each of their desks. ‘I come bearing gifts. Or maybe that should be bribes? Anyway, I need to ask you both a massive favour.'

‘Ask away,' Izzy said.

‘There's not much I wouldn't do for someone who brings me a mochaccino,' Alfie said.

‘My sister Vicky,' I said, ‘is leaving school this year, and apparently, the crowning achievement of her academic career is for her to organise a successful senior prom – on a non-existent budget. I was wondering if either or both of you would have the spare time to design the posters – and the flyers – and the tickets?'

‘Ooh, I'd love to,' Izzy said, immediately. ‘I adored my school prom. My date picked me up in a white limousine, and gave me a corsage the exact shade of pink as my gown. We danced every dance …' She smiled dreamily. ‘It was
wonderful
.'

‘What about you, Alfie?' I said. ‘It's a lot of work for one person, but I thought maybe you and Izzy could work on it together?'

‘Sure,' Alfie said. ‘Happy to be of assistance. Have your sister and her friends thought about setting up a Facebook group for their prom?'

‘Not as far as I know.'

‘I could help with ideas for that as well, if you like. I set up a group for my school prom, and the girls all posted photos of their outfits so no one turned up on the night wearing the same dress as their BFF.'

‘That's brilliant!' Izzy said.

‘You and I should have a proper thought-showering session about this project,' Alfie said to Izzy. ‘Have you had lunch yet? Shall we go and grab a sandwich and talk through some ideas?'

Izzy nodded eagerly. ‘Absolutely. I'm starving.'

‘Thank you both so much,' I said. ‘I really appreciate this. I'll forward you Vicky's email with all the details.'

I went back to my desk and sent the email. After a few minutes, Izzy and Alfie stood up, and started making their way toward the door. As they passed my desk, Alfie caught my eye. Hanging back so that she couldn't see his face, he mouthed ‘thank you' at me, before following Izzy out of the office.

Eighteen

I stood on the pavement outside Leicester Square station. The thought of spending another evening with Nick – me wondering if I should end our relationship, him cheerfully oblivious – made my stomach churn.

I couldn't go on like this. I had to make a decision.

I scanned the crowds milling about the pedestrianized square. No sign of him as yet. I checked the time on my phone. He wasn't due to arrive for another five minutes. I felt the beginning of a headache in my temples.

‘There you are, Anna.'

I spun around and almost collided with him. He bent down and kissed my cheek. ‘I'm not late, am I?' he said.

‘Oh, no,' I said. ‘I was early.'

‘You were eager to see me?'

I managed a weak smile.

‘You look very lovely tonight.' He put his arms around me and kissed me on the lips. ‘Is that a new dress?'

‘N-no. No, it isn't.' I looked up into Nick's face, noticing that he had a small cut on his chin from shaving. His blue eyes met mine. And I felt … I felt
nothing
. That moment when he was gazing into my eyes, that was when I knew for sure. I couldn't be with him. He and I were over.

‘I booked us a table for eight o'clock,' Nick said. ‘It's a mild night, so I had an idea that we might do a bit of sightseeing before we eat.'

I stared at him. Sightseeing? He wanted to go sightseeing now?

‘Unless,' Nick said, ‘you'd rather go straight to the restaurant and have a drink?'

I shook my head.

He started walking.

‘Nick, wait.' I ran to catch up with him. ‘Where are we going?'

‘You'll see.' He took my hand and quickened his pace. I walked beside him, knowing I was going to hurt him terribly, wracked with guilt, as he led me out of Leicester Square, over Charing Cross Road, and along Long Acre. When we came to Covent Garden, we cut across the piazza, and turned left onto the Strand.

I didn't want to be with him. My thoughts skittered around my head. I had to break up with him.

‘I thought you could show me your favourite view,' Nick said, letting go of me.

We'd reached Waterloo Bridge.

Tell him. Tell him now, I thought.

‘Where's the best place to stand?' Nick said. ‘In the centre, I guess.'

Before I could put out a hand to stop him, he marched purposefully onto the bridge. Wordlessly, I followed him. When he reached the middle, he stood still and rested his elbows on the parapet, looking upstream. I did the same. It was dusk, and the lights of the buildings along the riverfront – the bright circle that was the London Eye, the yellow glow of the Houses of Parliament – were reflected in the dark waters of the Thames. I waited for Nick to make some comment about the view, but he seemed content to contemplate the scene in silence. I stood next to him, my heat thudding in my chest, unable to summon the words to tell him that I'd fallen out of love.

I can't break up with him while I'm looking at my favourite view, I thought. I'll tell him as soon we've left the bridge.

After what seemed a very long time, Nick turned to me and said, ‘Anna, I'm thirty-two years old. I earn a good salary, and I'm confident that the considerable success I've enjoyed in my career will continue. I've been thinking about my future. Our future. Together.'

‘Our f-future?' I stammered.

‘I love you, Anna.'

To my consternation, he stepped away from the parapet, and knelt down on one knee on the pavement.

My head reeled.
Oh, no. Please,
please
let this not be what I think it is.

‘Anna Mitchel,' Nick said, ‘will you marry me? Will you be my wife?' Reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, he brought out a blue velvet box. He opened it, so that I could see the ring with its cluster of diamonds that glittered inside.

This could not be happening.

‘Nick, please get up.'

‘Not until you give me your answer,' Nick said, with a confident smile. ‘Will you marry me, Anna?'

I was standing on Waterloo Bridge. A man I didn't love had asked me to marry him. This was too awful.

‘No,' I said. ‘Oh, Nick, I'm
so
sorry, but I don't want to marry you.'

Nick's smile faltered, but only for a moment. He shook his head. ‘You don't mean that.'

‘I do – I'm sorry.'

‘But – we're good together –'

‘I- I'm not in love with you, Nick. I don't want to spend my life with you.
Please
get up off the pavement.'

The smile faded from Nick's face. He closed the ring box, returned it to his jacket, and got slowly to his feet.

‘You don't love me?' His face had gone white.

‘I don't love you,' I echoed.

Nick visibly flinched. ‘I thought you were the woman who was going to bear my children.'

‘Oh, Nick, don't –'

‘Did you ever love me?'

‘I did – but I haven't loved you for – for a while – I should have told you – I tried – I've been so confused –'

‘Is there someone else?' Nick's eyes hardened. ‘Is it Alexandre? Have you slept with him?'

‘
What?
No.
No
!'

‘Don't lie to me, Anna. I'd rather know the truth.'

‘There's no one else. Surely you know me better than to think I'd cheat on you.'

‘I feel like I don't know you at all.' He raked his hand through his hair. ‘I think it's best if I go. I need to be on my own for a bit.'

‘If that's what you want –'

‘It's not what
I
want. Apparently, I can't have what I want.'

Before I could form a reply, he swung away from me and walked stiffly back across the bridge towards the Strand. I watched him until his tall frame was lost among the crowds. He didn't look back. I'd never again be able to walk over Waterloo Bridge without thinking of this moment.

I went to the parapet and looked out over the river, but the panoramic picture-postcard view was spoilt for me now. The scene blurred as my eyes brimmed with tears. I wiped them away with the back of my hand. Suddenly, I felt very tired, and wanted desperately to be at home. I headed off the bridge in the opposite direction to Nick, towards the South Bank and the tunnels that led to Waterloo Station.

By the time I reached my flat, I felt so weary that I could barely put one foot in front of the other. I vaguely remembered Alex mentioning that he was out tonight at some media event, but I knocked on his bedroom door anyway. When he didn't answer I looked inside, but his room was empty.

I hoped he came home soon. I really could have done with his company. It struck me that in the past, every time I'd broken up with a boyfriend or been dumped, the first thing I'd done had been to write a letter to Alex.

I went into the living room, kicked off my shoes, and sank down on the sofa. Shutting my eyes, I rubbed my temples with my fingers. And then, numb with tiredness, I fell asleep.

I awoke to find myself lying sideways on the sofa, and Alex bending over me, his hand on my arm.

‘Anna,' he said, softly. ‘Wake up.'

‘I am awake. Just about.' I pushed myself upright, wincing at the stiffness in my neck and shoulders. ‘What time is it?'

‘Two-thirty in the morning. I've just got in. I wasn't sure whether to wake you, but you didn't look very comfortable –' He frowned. ‘Why are you on your own? Where's Nick?'

‘Nick and I broke up,' I said.

‘
Mais pourquoi
? What happened? Did you have a fight?'

‘No. Nothing like that. I realised that I'm not in love with him –' Unable to continue talking for the tightness in my throat, I burst into tears.

‘Oh, Anna.
Ne pleure pas, ma chérie.
' Alex sat down next to me, and gathered me in his arms. I sobbed against his shirt, and he held me close and stroked my hair, until I was able to get myself under control.

‘I don't know why I'm crying,' I said, raising my head from Alex's chest. ‘It was me who ended the relationship.'

‘You and Nick were together for – what? A year and a half? When you've been with someone that long, you're bound to feel sadness when you part. Even when it is your choice.'

‘I am sad – for Nick. I've hurt him very badly. I was trying to find the words to tell him that we were over, and he was going on about his career, and then – it was
dreadful
– and then he asked me to marry him, and I refused him.'

‘Nick proposed!
Mon Dieu.
'

‘He went down on one knee. He had a ring. We were on Waterloo Bridge.'

‘Your favourite London landmark.'

‘Not any more.' I sat up, and tucked my hair behind my ears.

Alex put his hand over mine. ‘What did Nick do after you turned him down?'

‘He walked off. Out of my life. I may never see him again. There's actually no reason why I should – we've very few mutual friends. There are some things of his here in my flat that he might want, but I can send them to him – Oh …'

‘What is it?'

‘Our holiday. Nick spent a fortune for us to go to Mexico. If he can't cancel the trip, I'll have to pay him back my half of what it cost. It's only fair.'

Alex shrugged. ‘If you say so. But if the holiday was a gift, surely Nick wouldn't expect you to pay for it, however expensive it was?'

‘No, he wouldn't, but I want to do the right thing.'

‘Well, you don't have to decide anything tonight.'

‘Just as well, I'm too tired to think straight.' I yawned. ‘We should go to bed.'

‘I'm very flattered, but don't you think it's a bit soon for you to take another lover?'

‘Ha, ha. You crack me up, you really do.'

Alex held out a hand to haul me to my feet.

Outside my bedroom door, he said, ‘If you're up before me tomorrow, and you're feeling fragile and don't want to be on your own, come and wake me.'

‘I will.
Merci
.'