Miracle on Regent Street (17 page)

BOOK: Miracle on Regent Street
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‘Well,’ Joel says eventually, ‘I guess I agree that department stores need to have a new vision for the future, or they’ll fall by the wayside.’

‘And that’s what’s happened to Hardy’s,’ I say gravely, forgetting that I’m not meant to know about Rumors’ potential takeover. ‘I mean it
could
happen,’ I quickly backtrack. ‘We’re so quiet, after all. Is that why you’ve been coming in? To try and help us?’

Joel pauses and his expression becomes a little strained. ‘It’s top secret, to be honest. I’d love to tell you, but it’s more than my job’s worth. All I can say is
that all will be revealed soon. And from what you’ve just said, you’ll be very pleased with the results.’ I furrow my brow, trying to unravel what that means. What result would
Carly want? What have I just said? I’m so confused, I feel like I could be getting essential inside information about Hardy’s fate from Joel, but I can’t ask him directly.
He’s made it clear it’s not open for discussion. I’m just left wondering if it’s what Carly would want, would
I
want it, too?

Joel smiles at me and skims his finger around the top of his china tea cup. ‘You know, Carly, I hear you’re very talented. Rupert raves about you. And,’ he adds leaning closer,
‘I don’t blame him.’

I furrow my brow and look away because I know that in actual fact, Rupert doesn’t even know my name. Come to think of it, nor does Joel. I take another sip of champagne. I’m feeling
a little bit squiffy. And I’m exhausted by all this pretence. I realize that my brow is still furrowed and so I open my eyes really wide instead, put my elbows on the table and my face in my
hands to give me an instant facelift. I smile but Joel appears slightly alarmed so I let go of a bit of my face skin and he looks relieved.

‘I’m so glad I bumped into you this morning, Carly,’ he says softly. ‘I have to confess, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.’

I try not to gape at him. ‘You haven’t?’

‘I felt a connection to you from the moment I first saw you in the store,’ he says bashfully.

But that wasn’t me
.

I force a smile in return but suddenly I feel like a complete fraud. Here I am on a date with a gorgeous man who is giving me compliments, but I’m caked in make-up, have crippled feet, am
giving him opinions that aren’t my own and completely and utterly not being myself. Maybe I should confess now. He’s just too nice to deceive like this. I should introduce him to the
real
Carly instead. They’ll probably fall instantly in love and I could start a matchmaking service or something when I lose my job at Hardy’s. I’d be quite good at that, I
think. Or I could be a wedding planner. I mean, with my organizational skills . . .

I’m so lost in new career thoughts that I barely notice when Joel pulls me to my feet.

‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ He grabs my coat and swings it over my shoulders, leaving his arm resting there as we walk out of the foyer. I
can’t help but feel smug as I see every single female jaw drop around us. Then I wonder if they’re thinking, what’s a guy like
him
doing with
her
? and I lose the
reflected glow a little.

The doorman opens the door for us and smiles warmly as Joel escorts me out, saying ‘Mr Parker’ deferentially and tipping his hat at us as Joel slips some money in his hand. In my
excitement I find myself responding to the doorman’s gesture by simultaneously curtsying at him and saluting. The poor doorman looks mildly horrified but doesn’t lose his professional
smile, although I’m sure I see the corner of his mouth twitch. Luckily Joel doesn’t notice and just leads me into the street. As I look back I see the doorman wink and salute back at me
and I laugh and wave at him.

Our afternoon tea was so elegant and refined I feel like I’m living in another era, and I love it. It is snowing again as we walk together through the busy streets. But
this time I don’t notice any of the people. It’s like everyone has melted away, and there is just Joel and me.

Joel is telling me about his shop, describing the old-fashioned white weatherboard façade, the Stars and Stripes flag forever flap-ping on the roof and the lovely old ladies who work
there.

‘It sounds perfect,’ I say.

‘It is,’ he smiles ‘although it’s not to your taste. They definitely don’t wear couture in my shop!’

I laugh albeit awkwardly. ‘So, why did you leave there if you loved it so much?’ I ask, wanting to know more about the handsome stranger who has just slid his arm gently around my
waist. I gulp and try not to show my excitement but realize it’s now an effort to string two words together. ‘Um, just because, well, it seems to me that, you know, if your father
can’t steer it in the right direction, maybe you, er, could?’

Joel smiles sadly. ‘That’s what I’ve always thought, too. It was my plan to finish my business degree in New York and then go back home.’ He pauses and stares straight
ahead. ‘I had a girlfriend back there. We were childhood sweethearts . . .’ he trails off and I rub his arm to encourage him to keep talking. His face is tense, as if he’s trying
not to get upset. He takes a deep breath.

‘We had our whole lives planned out,’ he says quietly. ‘We were together throughout the whole of high school, but knew that one day we’d need to experience life on our
own. That’s what everyone kept telling us, anyway. So we decided to go to different colleges, date other people, maybe, but then after we both graduated, we’d come back home to each
other. We planned on running Parker’s together. I thought it was her dream. It was definitely mine.’ He sighs. ‘Anyway, we kept in contact with letters and emails for the first
few months but then they petered out. I knew we were both busy, but I always thought . . .’ He pauses again. He smiles at me and lowers his eyes to the lightly glimmering ground.

‘Well, anyway,’ he continues. ‘I finished my degree, left New York and made my way back home. On my first day back in Willow Grove, I was walking down the Main Street and I was
so happy when I saw her coming towards me. I thought everything would be OK. Then I realized that she was hand in hand with another guy. She could barely look at me when I stopped to talk to them.
Apparently they were just back for the weekend. They’d gone to the same college, in Florida, started dating after the first year and had been together ever since. In fact, they’d just
got engaged and she was busy planning the wedding. They were going to travel for a year before settling into the home his parents had bought for them in Florida. She said she couldn’t imagine
living in such a small town as Willow Grove. I didn’t want to admit I’d come home to do everything we’d planned together. Instead I told her that neither could I, and that I was
staying in New York because I loved the big city so much. And at that moment I resolved to stay in New York, get some experience of other big stores and get over her. All my memories in Willow
Grove were of her and I didn’t want to go back until I’d got over her completely.’

Suddenly I can’t help but think about Jamie. I can relate to what Joel’s saying completely. My life back at home in Norwich
was
Jamie. And he left me because he didn’t
want that life any more because it was too predictable. My God, Joel and I are the same.

Joel suddenly shakes his head, clearly embarrassed by his emotional outburst. ‘Shit, Carly. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.’ He rubs his forehead and
suddenly looks vulnerable, not the suave businessman he’s appeared to be so far. I like him even more for it.

‘Don’t worry,’ I say, rubbing his arm gently. ‘I can handle it.’

He turns and fixes his forget-me-not eyes on me. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re a great listener?’

I just smile.
All the time
, Joel,
all the time
.

We walk along the city’s busy streets in comfortable silence. It could be the effects of the champagne, but I am melting in the warmth of Joel’s arm around my shoulders, trying to
focus on my breathing as we keep in step with each other. We pass shop after shop decorated gaily with Christmas decorations and it feels like we’re gliding through an ever-changing glacier
of breathtaking blue, silver and white lights. We turn onto Bond Street and I gasp a little as Joel suddenly pulls me into the entrance of a small jewellery shop that is empty of customers. The
street’s glorious Christmas lights drape over our heads like a star-spangled canopy, swathes of glittering fabric twinkling like diamonds above us and around us. I feel like I’m in a
glass prism and all I can see is Joel reflected back at me. He is facing me now, his arms wrapped around my body and he gazes at me intently as he brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, which has
long since lost its gloss. I look down, embarrassed by the intensity of the moment.

‘May I kiss you?’ he murmurs.

I nod wordlessly as he lowers his mouth to mine and I am filled with the warmth of his breath, the softness of his lips, the wetness of his tongue, and I am floating, floating like the flakes of
snow that frame us. I am no longer Carly. I am just me. But this new, improved me is being kissed by a man who thinks I’m wonderful.

 

Sunday 4 December

21 Shopping Days Until Christmas

 

‘S
o he says he thinks you’re wonderful and then what?’ Delilah is sitting in the front passenger seat of her and Will’s
Land Rover and has twisted herself round to face me. I am sitting in the back, sandwiched between Lola (who is shouting out the colour of each car we pass approximately every two seconds in my
ear), and Raffy (who is squashing cream cheese sandwiches between his hands and then rubbing them on my jeans).

I have been trying to relive my date with Joel at Delilah’s insistence but am struggling to compete with Lola’s shouts and Raffy’s maniacal laughs. It’s a welcome
distraction, to be honest; I’m not really comfortable discussing my date in such a public forum anyway. I’d planned to divulge every last detail to Delilah once we’d arrived at
our parents’, when we’re on our own, obviously. Mum will be all over me like a rash otherwise, bless her.

‘Yes, darling it
is
a red car, clever girl!’ Delilah turns and smiles at Lola, then notices my cream cheese-encrusted legs. ‘DON’T DO THAT, Raff! Poor Auntie
Teevee. Now give her a kiss and say sorry.’

‘Hi Teevee hi, thorry Teevee mummy thorry,’ he murmurs remorsefully, and gazes up at me innocently through his long eyelashes. Then he pouts his lips and leans over in his car seat
to kiss me on my cheek, so now I have cream cheese on my face as well as on my legs.

Will – sensible man – is ignoring us all and concentrating on the road, probably wishing he was going anywhere but to his parents-in-law on this Sunday morning. We are doing one of
our monthly pilgrimages to Norfolk for lunch. It is Clause 1 of the endless contract that Delilah, Noah, Jonah and I unwittingly signed as offspring, which keeps us tied to the familial home far
more than any of us would like. But even Noah and Jonah wouldn’t complain about it or dare to miss a visit. We are also expected to spend Christmas, Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s
Day and Mum and Dad’s birthdays there.

‘So come on!’ Delilah says impatiently as she twists even further round in her seat, so much so that I am concerned she may snap. ‘What happened next?’

‘Nothing really,’ I mumble, and busy myself with singing ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ to Raffy, who immediately claps his hands with glee and lisps ‘Butth!’
joyously, causing crumbs to fly out of his mouth and all over me. I don’t want to share the details of my kiss with Joel in front of Will and the kids. And the truth is that’s all there
was to it: one delicious kiss, then Joel put me in a cab and promised to call me soon.

I pretend to ignore Delilah and start the song over again.

‘BUTTH!’ Raffy screams again in delight as if I haven’t sung it for a year.

‘RED CAR, Mummydaddyteevee, RED CAR!’ squeals Lola wondrously as if she has just spotted a four-headed alien and not the seventy-seventh red car in the last half an hour.

Delilah ignores them both. ‘Oh, come
on
, Evie,’ she begs. ‘You can’t get that far in the story and then bail out! We’re
desperate
to know what happens
next, aren’t we, Will?’ He doesn’t answer. ‘Aren’t we, Will?’ she hisses, and nudges him.

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