Read Let's Call the Whole Thing Off Online

Authors: Jill Steeples

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary

Let's Call the Whole Thing Off (15 page)

BOOK: Let's Call the Whole Thing Off
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And I had no reason to worry about Dave’s finances either even if he did have a taste for expensive wines and restaurants. That wasn’t my concern.

‘You don’t have to keep thanking me, Perce. It was only dinner. And it was my pleasure, absolutely.’

See what I meant. Dave definitely had a generosity of spirit that I’d only just realised Ed had been sadly lacking in. Along with some other vital qualities you would hope for in a man, your potential husband, in particular.

‘What do you want to do? Do you want to get back? Or do you fancy a stroll along the front?’

We were standing by the car and the evening so far, apart from the awkward conversation about my research activities, had been wonderful. We’d drunk far too much wine and the conversation when it had moved on to safer territory had flowed easily. I was in no mood for going home, but I was conscious of the man sitting waiting in the car and thinking how he must be bored out of his mind and desperate to get home. And although I was having a wonderful time I was also aware that the undercurrent of sexual tension that had been so evident the night before was inexplicably missing tonight. Dave was perfectly charming and funny and attentive, but I was beginning to wonder if perhaps he was regretting asking me out tonight. Even worse, I wondered if I was boring him.

‘No, it’s been lovely, Dave, really, but I should get back.’ I glanced at my watch as though I had a hot date with a cup of hot chocolate waiting for me. I wanted to give him an escape route.

He grimaced and twisted his mouth, managing to make that action look seductive and vulnerable at the same time. Maybe the missing sex-factor was putting in a late-minute appearance after all.

‘So you’re telling me I’ve got to go and have a nightcap on my own?’

Something like a little frisson of hope rose in my stomach.

‘What about your friend?’

Dave looked totally perplexed.

‘Your taxi?’ I said, indicating towards the car.

He laughed in that way of his that made me feel ever so slightly self-conscious.

‘Well, he’s a great guy, but I’d much rather go for a drink with you.’

‘No, I didn’t mean that!’ I swiped my hand lightly in his direction. ‘He’s been sitting here all this time, I’m sure he must be desperate to get home.’

‘You are funny, Perce. That’s his job. That’s what he does. He sits in his car and drives people around and waits for them. But if it makes you feel any better I can get him to run us back into town and then I can send him home. How does that sound?’

What sort of people had drivers waiting outside restaurants for them? Apart from movie stars, politicians or drug dealers. I was pretty certain Dave was neither of the first two categories.

‘Yes, well, I suppose another drink might be nice?’ I said, trying to sound coolly nonchalant and probably failing. I really liked Dave but there was something about him that unsettled me, that made me feel vulnerable and needy, that left me wanting more. I had to send special invisible signals to my arms to stop them from throwing themselves around his neck. And I didn’t want to feel like that, not today. I knew I couldn’t trust the strength of feeling I felt for him. I was using him as a substitute for Ed – a much earthier, sexier, funnier version of Ed.

Where was Persephone when I needed her? She’d be able to laugh and flirt her way through the evening without a second thought, but for some reason, Anna was much more in evidence this evening.

We ended up in a bar down one of the lanes and we had cocktails, which felt wildly decadent but entirely appropriate as we were both drowning our sorrows. Ordinarily I was more of a half-a-lager girl myself, but sitting with Dave sipping on something much more sophisticated I felt sure this was something I could easily get used to. There were times, like these, when I could completely forget Anna and her life back at home and pretend that all that existed in the world was Dave and the sea and the cocktails, which was both reassuring and sad because I knew none of it was for real. It was just one big wonderful distraction until I had to return to my shattered life and work out what it was I was going to do with the rest of my life.

A bit later, we wandered outside and down to the front again, the lure of the sea proving far too tempting to stay away from.

We walked the length of the pier before finding an empty bench where we sat, knees touching, looking like any regular couple as we watched the other late-night nomads wandering past. I had an overwhelming urge to tell Dave everything, to spill the beans about Ed and Sophie and the wedding and to hear what he had to say about it.

I wanted his reassurance, for him to tell me that everything would be all right because I was sure that’s what he’d say. I was fed up with pretending to be someone I wasn’t. I just wanted to be plain old Anna again, the one who’d been dumped and who needed a shoulder to cry on. Dave would be the perfect shoulder to cry on.

‘Dave?’

‘Yes?’ He turned to look at me, his dark brown eyes locking onto mine in an instant.

‘Oh, it’s nothing.’

My resolve left me. What would he think when he found out that everything I’d told him had been a lie? I hated myself for what I’d done. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes or to hear the disdain in his voice. I wanted to be the woman Dave wanted me to be; independent, successful and with the hint of the exotic about me. If it wasn’t so tragic it would be funny.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked.

‘A bit,’ I said truthfully, pulling my little jacket tighter around me.

‘Here, have this.’ He took off his coat and slipped it around my shoulders, pulling me into the crook of his arm. I rested my head on his shoulder and exhaled deeply. His scent, a heady mix of alcohol and testosterone, smacked at my nostrils. His physicality was always a shock to my senses, catching the breath at the back of my throat and making every hair on my body stand to attention. I wondered what it might be like to sleep with him, to feel his naked body up close to mine. I shut my eyes, wishing everything could be different.

‘Are you sad?’ I asked.

‘What?’ He pulled away from me for a moment, looking down at me with an odd expression on his face before tugging me close to his side again.

‘Sad? What have I got to be sad about? I’ve had a wonderful evening with a lovely companion. The food, the wine and the company have all been brilliant. Sitting here, with the sound of the sea lapping over the rocks beneath us, I can’t think of any place on earth I’d rather be at the moment. Apart from, maybe, the Maldives.’

I laughed. Thinking about it being in the Maldives with Dave would be amazing. Why hadn’t I jumped at his offer? Maybe he hadn’t been joking after all. It would be much better than going on my own. We got on well enough. We could chat away about anything and everything – well, apart from my broken engagement, his failed marriage, my jewellery business and his import/export business, but that still left plenty of others topics to discuss. If we could only transport this perfectly constructed bubble we’d made around ourselves and find ourselves on a golden sandy beach over the other side of the world then that would be amazing. Only the bubble was bound to burst. Things never stayed the same. We would fall in love, or at least I probably would, and then what? If our past relationships were anything to go by, then it would probably end in tears.

‘No I just wondered if you might be sad about the end of your marriage. It’s not every day you get divorced, is it?’

‘That’s true.’ I felt the gentle rise of his broad chest as he gave a rueful shrug. ‘And I guess you’re always left with a sense of sadness when something doesn’t work out the way you planned, but all the hurt and disappointment I felt in my marriage was dealt with a couple of years ago. It was sad that it had to end, but it was a decision that we made together. I’ve moved on. She’s moved on. You have to. You have to let those feelings go.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ I said, snuggling into him closer.

I couldn’t imagine letting go of the feelings I had at the moment. That feeling of complete and utter disbelief and outrage. It was all too raw and vivid and I wanted to hang on to it for as long as I could so that I would never forget just how much it had hurt.

To think that there might be a time when I’d be able to look back and think,
Oh yes, that was a difficult time, but it was absolutely for the best and I’m much better off without Ed, anyway
, was inconceivable. No, it was much easier to imagine that I might spend the rest of my life plotting my revenge on Ed and Sophie, sticking pins into wax effigies and ranting to anyone who might listen about how hard done by I was.

But I decided there and then in the protection of Dave’s embrace that I wouldn’t be that person. I didn’t have to adopt that role of a poor put-upon victim and become all bitter and twisted. Dave was right, you had to let those feelings go, and although I was in no way ready to do that right now I felt sure I would be at some point in the future. I still needed to do a great deal of ranting and had a lot of feeling sorry for myself to do before I was ready for that sort of closure.

But maybe all those old clichés about things happening for a reason were true because if one thing was certain it was that I would never have met Dave if I hadn’t have read that diary and found out all that horrible stuff about Ed and Sophie. And meeting Dave had been a good thing. The best thing that had happened to me all week.

‘And what about you, Perce? I hope you’re not feeling sad?’

‘No, no.’
And thrice nay
, a little voice said inside my head. ‘I’m not feeling sad.’

‘Good. Only sometimes I feel you drift away from me as though you’re thinking about someone else or someplace else.’ He gave a small laugh. ‘Maybe your heart is already in the Maldives.’

I laughed. ‘Sorry. No. I’m just a bit preoccupied, that’s all. It’s been a bit of a busy time,’ I said, in the understatement of the year.

‘When are you going back?’

‘Friday.’

‘Doesn’t leave you a lot of time for packing if you’re jetting off again the next day.’

‘Oh, I’m already packed and ready to go.’ I’d been packed for weeks. The suitcase was sitting on my bed stuffed full to the brim with all my pretty holiday attire.

‘That’s what I like to hear. Someone who’s organised and prepared. Come on,’ he said, unwrapping his arm from my shoulder, ‘I suppose we ought to be getting back.’

‘Gosh, is that the time?’ I said, jumping up from the bench in a bid to hide my disappointment. If it had been up to me I could have sat there all night, gazing out to sea, talking about nothing in particular. When I was with Dave it gave me a wonderful sense of detachment from the all too vivid reminders of my real life. It was as though I’d stepped into someone else’s life, Persephone’s, and I could have all the wonderful things in life that someone like Persephone would deserve. It certainly didn’t include a cheating boyfriend and a two-faced double-crossing best friend.

‘Well, Perce,’ Dave said, when we were back standing on the steps to the Grand View as we’d done only yesterday. It seemed ages ago. ‘It’s been absolutely lovely getting to know you. If I don’t see you before you go back, then have a fabulous holiday and, um, well, good luck with everything.’

‘Thanks.’ There were a 101 things I wanted to say, like
Don’t go
,
This can’t be it
and
I want your babies
, but my mouth wasn’t playing ball. Instead, I stood there looking gormless, hoping that Dave would kiss me like before, but knowing that he wasn’t going to. Especially not when I was looking so gormless.

That moment, that special moment last night when we’d kissed and hovered at that point where we could have taken it further but didn’t, had passed and I wasn’t going to embarrass myself by asking him up for a nightcap again when I already knew what his answer would be. I couldn’t face his rejection. Not after Ed’s and then Ben’s. What was wrong with me? I’d been rejected by three different men in the space of a week.

‘Shit!’

Just as I was puckering up for a light kiss on the lips, Dave grabbed me forcibly by the arm and pushed me through the doors of the hotel.

‘Get out of the way!’ he hissed.

‘What the …?’

I span round. All I could see was a commotion from the other side of the road, a man pointing a weapon at us, lights flashing in our direction. I screamed and threw myself on the floor, adopting a commando position and wiggled, like an over-fed caterpillar, across the red velvet carpet of the reception area. I didn’t wait to see what Dave was doing, but he’d know how to handle himself in situation like this. I cursed, as I heaved my body along the floor, realising too late what an absolute fool I’d been. If I ever got out of this alive I’d probably be arrested for being a drug tycoon’s moll. I might even go to prison. Breathing heavily, I hauled my body behind a stone pillar out of the line of fire.

‘Um, Percy, what are you doing?’

Dave was standing over me, looking a hundred feet tall and twice as menacing. His mouth twitched uneasily. I looked around, noticing that everyone else was going about their business as usual pretending they hadn’t noticed the strange woman’s athletic gymnastics across the carpet. I looked down at my laddered tights and my lovely dress, which was now hitched up around my waist. I pulled it down, hoping Dave hadn’t spotted my knickers.

‘What happened? Have they gone? Was it a rival gang or something?’ The words came out in a breathless garble.

Dave held out a hand to me, helping me up onto my feet. Relief flooded through my bones. There was no sign of our assailants. We’d clearly had a lucky escape, but one thing was for sure: I wasn’t cut out for this sort of life, however exciting it might seem on the surface. I should be at home with Ed, comparing spreadsheets instead of putting my life at risk for some shady business dealing. No amount of posh champagne and fancy restaurants was worth that sort of risk.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Perce,’ said Dave, still looking furtively over his shoulder as though we were about to be jumped again. ‘It was just some idiot with a camera,’ he said with a venom I hadn’t witnessed before.

BOOK: Let's Call the Whole Thing Off
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