The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man (23 page)

On Sunday morning, I get dressed in
layers and layers of clothes, with tights and thermals under my jodhpurs, about
five tee shirts under my thickest fleece and three pairs of socks.  Marcus
is lying in my bed trying to suppress his laughter, telling me I look about
three times my normal size, which I do not appreciate one bit.

But it’s worth it for a canter through the
woods.  Mavis was not impressed at being left behind, and her squeaky
little voice followed us for ages after we set out.  And though it’s
bitterly cold, at least it’s dry, and so lovely to be out on my horse, I don’t
really notice the wind burning my cheeks.  And when we get back, and
Horace is rugged up and back in his field with Mavis, I go inside to find
Marcus has coffee on the go, is cooking bacon sandwiches and has even been out
to buy the Sunday papers.

‘This is perfect,’ I say through a
mouthful of bacon.  ‘Just what a girl needs on a Sunday morning after a
freezing old ride in the woods.’

He grins and comes over, grabbing my
arms and pulling me to him.  ‘I think you might need some help getting all
those clothes off,’ he says mischievously, starting by peeling off my
fleece.  And my perfect Sunday gets even more perfect.

After lunch, Marcus goes home but asks
me if I’ll go round to his this evening. We are spending an awful lot of time
together.  But of course it’s not awful, it’s good, and so I say yes, of
course I’ll see him later.

This afternoon I’m going to see
Leonie.  Pete is off on one of his bike races again. 
Seems like biking is as bad or as good as golf, depending on your
viewpoint.
  It can keep men occupied for entire days, which definitely
has to be a good thing.

‘It’s great to see you!’ says Leo,
looking far more like her old self.  Her face has lost its tired, worried
look, and she’s had her hair cut so it hangs in layers just past her
shoulders.  ‘I’ve got loads to tell you about.  Since the New Year,
it seems like everything’s gone a bit mad…’

‘Has Pete gone back to flying?’ I ask,
because I know he was due to start this month.

‘He did.  Three weeks ago.’ Leonie
looks more serious.

‘And?’
 I prompt.  ‘How did it go?’

‘Not that good.’  She sighs. 
‘Actually, calamitous, in the sense that Pete came to the realisation that he
doesn’t want to do it anymore.  He says the job is to blame - at least in
part - for his depression.’

‘So what now?’
I ask, alarmed.  ‘I mean, he can’t just do
nothing
Leo.  I know
you
work, but he has to do something…’

‘He is…’ she says, starting to
smile.  ‘He’s been really lucky and negotiated some part time work flying
for the next two months, after which he’s leaving.  
For
good.
  He’s starting, well, started actually, an internet business
sourcing and selling unusual bike parts.  I know it sounds weird, but
believe it or not, it’s already taking off.’

‘Golly,’ I say, most impressed. 
‘There must be something in the water.  I saw Arian just before Christmas,
and he too was talking about finding something else to do.’

But Leo’s jumping up and down now. 
‘Oh!  Didn’t I say?  They’re doing this together!  Arian’s
flying part time too and Sylvie, you know, Karina’s Mum, has an empty barn they
can use for stock!  So they’re both ploughing in some funds and racing
ahead with it!  It’s very exciting!’

No doubt it is.  And also very
weird, because however much I’d love to, I just cannot get shot of Arian.
 And now that Leo and Pete know Karina, and Sylvie too, it would seem my
old life and my new one are to be thoroughly entangled for some time to come.
 
So much for moving on.

Oh my giddy aunt
. 
Here’s Pete, all hot and sweaty, carrying a pointy cycling helmet and wearing
incredibly tight
lycra
. And particularly tight shorts
that bulge in all the wrong places.  I avert my eyes, and catch a waft of
armpit and generally sweaty man. There’s no avoiding the fact that Pete most
definitely niffs.

‘Hi Lou,’ he says cheerfully, as he
kisses Leo anyway.  ‘I’ll just go and have a shower.  You look well,’
he says, sounding just like the old Pete again.

‘Thanks Pete.  Um, so do you,’ I
say doubtfully.

‘Anyway, what were you going to tell
me?’ asks Leo.  ‘Quickly, before Pete comes back down.’

‘Marcus,’ I say smugly.  ‘We’ve
been spending a lot of time together.  Like most days, actually. 
And most nights.’

Leo looks at me anxiously, probably
wondering what specimen of manhood I’ve hooked up with this time. She hasn’t
met Marcus.   

‘Is it love?’ she asks quietly. ‘I do hope
so, only you look so sparkly and happy, and I couldn’t bear for someone to
break your heart again.’

‘I think it is,’ I say carefully. 
‘At least, he says he loves me.’

And then she grins and her eyes go all
misty.  ‘About time,’ she says.

Marcus is exceptionally affectionate
this evening.  We have soup and toast in front of a blazing fire, our feet
up on the coffee table as we watch TV.  Then we have a very early night,
because actually we’re quite tired so it’s a very sensible thing to do. 
And then, later, as we’re lying there sleepily he says, ‘I’m beginning to get
rather used to this…’ and promptly falls asleep.

I lie there awake a bit longer after
that, thinking about what he just said - because the truth is, I am too. 

Emma is moving in with Ben!  She’s
beaming from ear to ear and asking around to see who’d like her old sofa and
it’s all unbelievably exciting!  She told me at work this morning, but has
been rushing around ever since, so I made her promise under threat of death to
come round to mine this evening.

‘Oh Lou, it’s fantastic…’
  she
says, positively glowing.  ‘We went riding
on Sunday, and we rode over to the Stony Plough at Frampton.’ 

The Stony Plough is a tiny little pub in
the middle of nowhere, even more out of the back of beyond than Lower
Shagford
, with no car park, just an old-fashioned paddock
to put your horses in.

‘Anyway,’ Emma continues
excitedly.  ‘When we went in, there was hardly anyone else there. 
You know what it’s like.  We sat at one of those rickety old tables, and
then Ben said he’d just love it if I’d move in to his and we could just spend
all our time off together like this, and what did I think…’

‘So what did you say?’ I ask, knowing
only too well Emma’s thoughts about marriage and commitment.

‘Well,’ she says, her eyes shining as
she looks at me.  ‘The best thing is he hasn’t mentioned marriage - at
least, not yet, thank goodness - and he’s just so relaxed about it all. 
There’s no pressure, I just love being with him.’

I sort of get it actually.  And
being smug unmarrieds is the perfect arrangement for Emma.  And who knows,
in time I’m sure Ben will make an honest woman of her if that’s what they
decide they want.  So all in all, it is
very
exciting.

Then I tell her how Marcus and I are
spending nearly all our evenings together and how wrong I was about him being
arrogant.

She’s not even slightly surprised. 
‘I knew you fancied him, way back.’

‘You couldn’t. 
Because
I didn’t, Em.
  I didn’t even like him.  Not to start with.’

‘Yeah, right,’ says my friend most
annoyingly.

Our gossip divulged
,
Emma and I head over to the pub, where Marcus is already there with Ben, who
has a bottle of champagne and pours us both a glass, before saying that he and
Emma are actually indebted to me, and that if it wasn’t for me, it would most
probably be a very different story.  Gosh.  I feel quite
strange.  I mean Emma’s my friend, so why on earth
wouldn’t
I want
to help her?

 ‘What was that about?’ asks
Marcus, when eventually we have a chance to talk. 

‘Well,’ I say carefully, because there’s
not really any need for Marcus to know about all that horoscope malarkey. 
‘Let’s just say that Emma had a personal problem for a while.  Only a
little teeny one, but I helped her to sort it out, that’s all.’

‘Oh,’ he says, looking at me.
 ‘Just wondered, that’s all.’

The miracle has finally happened and
Beamish has allowed Zac to order a super-whizzy computer.  How he got
Beamish to agree, I’ll never know, but the main thing is that he has.  And
when it gets here, Zac will be responsible for setting it up and teaching
thickos like me how to use it. 

Marcus is thriving in his new role as
joint senior partner and I must say
,
it suits him down
to the ground.  He doesn’t mind all the meetings and dealing with
complicated paperwork or any of the stuff that Miles loathed, while Miles is as
happy as Miles ever can be, just being a regular, everyday vet wholeheartedly
devoted to his beloved patients.  

Will’s back too, larger than life and
twice as handsome.  His first morning back, he marches in and sweeps me up
in his arms and swings me round, before giving me a resounding kiss on the
cheek.  Oh, and is that Paris I’ve spotted, illegally speeding down the
drive in one of her mother’s cars?

‘Will!’ I shriek, but not too loudly
because it’s rather nice being swept off your feet by a gorgeous American.

‘Hey, Louisa!’ he says loudly. 
‘How’s the old place managed without me?’

I fill him in about Marcus’s promotion
and Miles willingly being un-promoted, and about Emma moving in with Ben, which
produces an expectedly enthusiastic response from him.

‘And have you seen Karina at all?’ he
asks more quietly, frowning.

‘I have, Will,’ I say gently.  ‘Actually,
you probably ought to know.  Arian’s proposed.’

‘Beats me what she sees in him,’ he says
sadly. 
‘After what he did to you too.
  The
guy just doesn’t deserve her.’

‘Cheer up, Will,’ I say.  ‘With a
wedding coming up, I bet you anything there is romance around the corner just
waiting for you.’

‘Yeah, well…in the meanwhile I guess I
better do some work,’ he says, peering into the diary. ‘How’s it going, mate?’
he calls to Zac, who mumbles back his usual ‘kay.’

‘You’ve got Daisy Mitchell first,’ I say,
‘who comes with a health warning.  Ben used to go out with her and she has
her horses shot when she’s bored with them.’

Which makes him wince and rightly so.

‘Then you’ve got a new client. 
Billie Lincoln.  Don’t know her at all, but she keeps dressage horses and
one of them’s slightly unsound.  Here’s the address.’

Will heads out just as Miles comes in,
looking very long faced for a man who’s about to go off on a skiing
holiday.  What on earth’s the matter with him?

‘Hey, Miles – what’s up?’

It’s probably another horse he’s
worrying about. 
Oh no
- my field is full.  
At
least for now.

‘Er, you know Rachel quite well don’t
you?’ he says miserably.

‘Of course I do,’ I say.  ‘Why?’

‘Think I’ve blown it,’ he says, looking
utterly morose.  ‘I just can’t go away on this skiing holiday she’s got
planned.  I don’t know… I keep thinking, what if there’s a crisis and I’m
needed here, or one of my clients gets sick?’

Oh honestly.  Miles is
ridiculously
obsessive about his clients.

‘For God’s sake Miles, I’m afraid you
are being ridiculous,’ I say firmly.  ‘What could possibly happen that
Marcus, Emma and
Will
couldn’t cope with?’

‘That’s exactly what Rachel said,’ he
says, even more despondently.  ‘Then she said that I was married to my job
and it was pointless us continuing our relationship.’  He looks as though
he’s going to cry.

‘None of us are indispensable,’ I say to
him gently.  ‘It’s not healthy to let your job rule your life like
this.  You’re a great vet Miles, but aren’t there other things you want
too? 
Like seeing the world – or a family maybe?’

He sighs.  ‘I suppose I’ve never
been fussed.  My job’s always been enough for me.  It’s just that I
thought Rachel understood and was okay with it…’

Oh God.  He’s done it again. 
Poor Miles, but this really is ridiculous.  He needs help.

‘I think you should talk to someone,
Miles,’ I suggest.  ‘This isn’t normal.  I’ll get you the name of
someone and make you an appointment - if you’d like me to.’

Miles raises shocked eyes to stare at me. 
‘You think I’m mad, don’t you?’ His eyes look terrified.

‘A little bit, yes,’ I say
honestly.  ‘And would it honestly hurt to go and talk to someone who might
be able to help you feel a lot happier?  Think about it…’

Hmmm…
Louisa Mulholland, personal counsellor, Louisa Mulholland, wedding planner….
Never mind the day job at the
nerve centre
of the practice, as Beamish
puts it. Life is going through one of those slightly uncontrollable phases
again with all the stuff that’s landing on my doorstep.  And that evening,
sure enough, Rachel pitches up there too.

‘I’ve given up with Miles,’ she says
resignedly.  ‘Did he tell you?  I’ve tried so hard to get him out of
his rut, but he refuses to budge, and he’s dragging me down with him. 
It’s a pity, because I think we could have had something really special.
I
really liked him
…’ A tear trickles down her cheek.

‘Trouble is Rachel, leopards don’t
change their spots,’ I say sadly.  ‘Maybe you’re better off without
him.’ 

But it’s a waste of a perfectly good
skiing holiday… 

‘Sorry,’ she says.  ‘I didn’t mean
to dump this on you, Lou.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I say.  ‘And I’m
sure things will work out for the best.’ 

And I’ve a funny feeling they probably
Will
.

Even though she’s puffy faced and not at
all in the mood,
I drag
Rachel over to the pub where
we treat ourselves to the expensive version of the fish and chips, which is
yummy.  And then we’re joined by Marcus and Will, who rally round and
makes
a fuss of Rachel.  She’s much brighter when we
leave.

‘Didn’t quite work out then?’ asks
Marcus as I stand at the bar waiting to pay.

‘Erm, no, not really,’ I say.

‘Miles still married to the job?’

‘You could say,’ I agree.

‘Fancy coming back to mine, gorgeous?’
he whispers seductively in my ear and I giggle.

‘I’d love to, but I think tonight,
Rachel needs me rather more than you do…’ I say regretfully.

‘Don’t be too sure about that,’ he says
darkly, kissing me on my neck.

Oh.  I know where I want to go –
but I haven’t forgotten how it feels either, when the man of your dreams turns
out not to be.