French Kissing (19 page)

‘I won't –'

‘I know I messed up yesterday. Just give me a second chance, that's all I'm asking.'

As gently as I could I said, ‘I'm not going to change my mind, Nick. I'd already decided to end our relationship before you proposed.'

Nick shook his head as if to deny my words. He stood up, and before I could protest, he took hold of my wrists, pulled me to my feet, and kissed me, his mouth open and wet on my firmly closed lips.

When he broke off and I was able to speak, my voice came out as a shriek. ‘Nick –
Don't
–' He immediately let me go. I stepped away from him, wiping my mouth with my hand, just as the living-room door crashed open to reveal Alex standing on the threshold.

‘Is everything all right in here?' He frowned at Nick, who glared back. The tension between the two of them was palpable.

‘
Oui,'
I said, quickly. ‘
Tout va bien.
'

‘Es-tu sûre
?'

‘Oui.
'

‘D'accord.
'Alex said. In English, he added, ‘My apologies, Nicholas, for bursting in on your private conversation. It seems there has been a misunderstanding.'

Nick gave a bitter laugh.

Alex shot him a look, but all he said was,
‘Cri …
call, if you need me, Anna.' He left the room.

I said, ‘Nick, this conversation is going nowhere –'

‘Oh, I'm not staying,' Nick said, ‘I came here today because I thought I could make you see sense, but I'm obviously wasting my time.'

‘I'm so sorry,' I said. ‘I never meant to hurt you.'

Nick's eyes were unforgiving and hard as blue steel. ‘You would have had a good life with me, but you threw me over for your Frenchman.'

‘No – I –' To my confusion, heat flooded my face. ‘Alex and I – we're
friends.
'

‘I was so very wrong about you.' Nick stalked across the living room and out into the hallway. The whole flat juddered as he slammed the front door.

I sank down onto the sofa. Whatever Nick thought, things had gone stale between me and him long before Alex came to London. I should never have let the relationship drag on as long as it did. Having ‘my Frenchman' around had only helped me realise that.

A creaking floorboard made me look up. Alex stood in front of me, holding two large mugs.

‘Your talk with Nick did not go well, I think,' he said, ‘but according to my English mother, “There are few of life's tribulations that are not eased by a pot of tea”.' He passed me one of the mugs, and sat down in an armchair.

‘
Merci
.' Nick's anger had left me shaken, but I managed a small smile. I slowly sipped the tea, and I did actually begin to feel much calmer and more like myself.

After a while, Alex said, ‘What did Nick do that made you shout at him?'

‘He'd got it into his head that he could bring me round to the idea of having his ring on my finger, and to prove it, he kissed me – and I over-reacted.'

‘His kissing technique is that bad?'

‘Don't joke about Nick. I feel bad enough for him already.'

‘
Pardonnez-moi
. I shouldn't have said that.'

‘No you shouldn't, but you're forgiven. And thank you for looking out for me. It's good to know you've got my back.'

‘That is what friends do,
ne c'est pas
?'

‘
You are a very good friend to me, Alex.
'

‘I try to be. I'll even fetch you another mug of tea.' He picked up my now empty mug and went off to the kitchen.

I stared after him, this ridiculously good-looking, straight, single man who shared my home. Given the way I'd been feeling in the pub garden, I couldn't help wondering what might have happened between me and him, if Nick hadn't been waiting for us when we'd arrived back at my flat. Instead of being kissed by my ex-boyfriend, I might have found out what it was like to be kissed by Alexandre Tourville. Except that in all the time he'd been living with me in London, Alex had given me no sign that he thought of me as anything other than a friend.

And I'd been writing to him for fifteen years, signing my letters,
Ton amie,
Anna.

Twenty

Beth stared wide-eyed at me across the restaurant table. ‘So what you're saying is that nothing has happened between you and Alex – but you've realised that you like him in that way.'

Alex. Nothing had happened between us, but the feelings I'd had towards him in the garden of the Red Lion hadn't gone away. Rushing past him in the mornings on the way to work, I was aware of a delicious fluttering in my stomach. The previous night, sitting next to him on the sofa reading, while he did some editing on his laptop, I'd caught myself watching his strong hands as they moved over the keyboard, and imagining how it would feel to have those hands moving over my body. I'd been quite unable to concentrate on my book.

‘I do
like
him,' I said, ‘I like him
a lot,
but I can't see anything coming of it.'

‘Why not, now that Nick's out of the picture? Or is it too soon?'

‘No, it isn't that.'

Only four days had passed since Nick had stormed out of my flat, but that had been quite long enough for me to pick up the reins of my life as a singleton. I hadn't gone into Nova Graphics on Monday morning and announced in the weekly staff meeting that I'd broken up with my boyfriend, but I had told Izzy and a couple of other people, and word had spread. I'd already received an invitation from one of my co-workers to a supper party that I doubted I'd have been invited to if I'd still been half of a couple, (‘Do come, Anna, I know my brother would love to meet you.'). Outside of work, I'd phoned just a few close female friends to tell them that Nick and I were over, but I'd received enough calls and texts (Heard about u & Nick. Soz
. Girls' night out next week? xx) to know the gossip had reached beyond my inner circle. Polly, my old school-friend, at whose wedding Nick and I had met, called to let me know that she was determined to stay friends with both of us, and that she hoped that one day Nick and I would also be able to meet as friends. I said I hoped so too, while thinking it extremely improbable. It struck me after that call that Polly was the only one of the people I'd told of our break-up who would be likely to have any contact with my ex in the future.

From Nick, I'd heard nothing more. I'd looked up the cost of our proposed holiday on the internet and sent him a cheque for what I hoped was the right amount, along with a brief typed note, but it had been sent back by return, torn in half, with no note. I'd also sent him a parcel containing those few possessions of his he'd left at my flat (two white office shirts, a tie, a couple of classical music CDs, a rather good fountain pen). It was, I reflected, a very small package, considering the amount of time we'd been together, and indicative of how little his and my lives had become entwined. I'd had other failed relationships where the eradication of all traces of the guys from my flat had taken weeks, and the retrieval of my clothes and shoes from their homes had never achieved closure. I couldn't think of anything I'd left at Nick's place, apart from a toothbrush.

‘I don't need more time to get used to being single. I'm ready to date again.'

Beth leant forward, her elbows on the table, and rested her chin on her steepled fingers. ‘So what's stopping you letting Alex know how you feel about him?'

Mon ami.

I said, ‘Alex has never given me the slightest hint that he wants to be anything other than my friend.'

‘You mean, if you came on strong to him, and he wasn't interested … I guess it would make sharing a flat with him a little problematic.'

‘It could ruin our friendship.'

‘Well, if posing seductively on your kitchen workshop in your underwear is out, couldn't you just flirt with him a bit? See if that sparks his interest.'

‘Define “flirt a bit”.'

‘Honestly, Anna, I know you've been in a long-term relationship, but you can't have forgotten how to flirt. You were always so good at it. Admire the guy's biceps, and ask him how often he goes to the gym. Toss your hair. Giggle when he tells a joke and tell him he's so
funny
.'

I rolled my eyes. ‘Because that would
definitely
appeal to a sophisticated twenty-eight-year-old Frenchman.'

‘OK, forget the flirting,' Beth said. ‘Do you want more coffee?'

‘I'll get it.' The sandwich bar in which Beth and I had chosen to meet for lunch was one of those establishments that allowed its customers an indefinite number of caffeine refills. We'd decided it was going to become our regular lunchtime rendezvous.

When I got back to our table with two brimming cream-topped glasses of café latte, Beth was looking thoughtful.

‘What you need,' she said, ‘is for someone else to tell Alex that you fancy him, and that he ought to ask you out on a date.'

‘For goodness' sake – we're not in high school.'

‘Seriously, why don't I get Rob to drop a few hints the next time they play squash?'

‘Seriously, no,' I said. ‘Alex's friendship is important to me. I don't want to risk losing it.' I thought I'd lost it once, and I couldn't bear it.

‘Alex could be feeling exactly the same way about you.'

‘I'll hold that thought.' I checked my watch. ‘Oh, no. I'm going to be late back at work.'

‘You go,' Beth said, immediately. ‘I'll get the bill.'

‘You're a star – I'll pay you back next week.'

‘That's OK – but you have to call me if anything happens between you and Alex.'

If only.

Despite my high heels, I ran all the way back to Nova Graphics. How could I have let myself get so caught up in talking about Alex that I lost all track of time? I was getting as bad as Izzy.

Twenty-one

Vicky said, ‘I'm going to try my prom dress on again. Which bag is it in?' With total disregard for the survival of their contents, she began rummaging amongst the numerous carrier bags on my living room floor.

‘Mind out, Vicky,' I said, ‘My photo frames are in that one.'

‘Do you really need to put that dress on now?' my mother said.

‘Here it is.' Vicky flourished the fabulous dress that was the
pièce de résistance
of our mother-and-daughters shopping trip. A gorgeous shade of coral, it had thin straps that crossed over at the back, and was tightly fitted to the waist before flaring out over the hips to fall softly to the floor.

‘Aren't you glad I talked you out of the yellow organza?' I said.

‘I
so
am. What was I
thinking
?' She started to pull her T-shirt over her head.

‘No, don't strip off in here,' I said. ‘Alex'll be home soon. Go and get changed in my bedroom.'

‘Oh, yeah. You said he'd probably appear at some point. I forgot.' Holding her dress reverently before her, Vicky fairly skipped out of the room.

‘
I'm
glad you talked her out of that yellow concoction,' my mother said. ‘She never listens to anything I say about clothes. But who goes to their mother for fashion advice when they're a teenager?'

‘I never did. Though maybe I should have. The leather dress I wore to Beth's Sweet Sixteen party – I can't believe you actually let me leave the house in that.'

‘Some arguments just aren't worth having.' My mother smiled at me fondly. ‘Vicky showed me the posters you had designed. Thank you for doing that. This prom means so much to her.'

‘Oh, that's OK. My taste in clothes may be more refined these days, but I can still remember what it's like to be eighteen and about to leave school.'

‘Well, it was very generous of your friends to give up their free time.'

The posters that Izzy and Alfie had created for Vicky's prom were terrific, and I was very grateful, as I'd said to Izzy when she'd shown them to me. She'd told me that she hadn't minded in the least. Spending time with Alfie outside office hours had been fun. He'd been very complimentary about her designs, and after they'd finished the artwork, they'd gone for a curry. When I had a chance to thank Alfie, he'd told me that the pleasure was all his, and Izzy was coming over to his place the following weekend to work with him on the flyers and the tickets. I'd raised one questioning eyebrow, but he'd merely smiled and told me that he'd keep me updated.

‘Vicky's prom may turn out to be one of best projects Alfie and Izzy ever work on,' I said.

My mother gave me a puzzled look, but was distracted by Vicky making her entrance in her new-bought finery. She'd caught her hair up in a messy ponytail, with curls escaping around her face, and although she wasn't wearing much make-up, she looked absolutely stunning.

‘Oh, Victoria,' my mother said. ‘I like that dress even more now than I did in the shop.'