The One We Fell in Love With (22 page)

When I’m feeling a bit more like myself, I head inside and wash my hands at the bakery sink before returning to the shop floor. Toby flashes me an encouraging smile as he finishes up with
a customer. ‘You okay?’ he asks when they’ve gone. There are still a couple of mums with babies drinking coffee in the small café area so we speak quietly.

‘Yes. Thanks.’

‘Mind if I pop outside for a fag?’ he asks with a raised eyebrow.

‘Go for it.’

He returns five minutes later.

‘When are you going to put the plants in?’ he asks.

‘I planned to do it last weekend, but I was too zonked after our all-night baking session. Where are you going to go for your fag breaks when it’s finished?’ I ask
pertinently.

‘I don’t know.’ He shrugs. ‘Maybe I’ll quit. Smoking costs a packet. It’s wiping me out.’

‘Is that your only reason for stopping? Not the fact that it’s incredibly bad for your health and makes your breath smell like sick?’

He looks a little put out.

‘Sorry, that sounded worse than I meant it to.’

‘Forget it,’ he replies, staring at the blank space on the counter where the cupcakes used to be. His mum is due to come out of hospital tomorrow, but she won’t be baking for a
while.

‘What are you doing tonight?’ he asks suddenly, looking at me.

‘Nothing, why?’

‘Want to come to a gig in the city with me?’

‘Er...’

‘Have you already got plans?’ he asks.

‘No, but—’

‘What? Something better to do on a Monday night? Come on, Rose, live a little. It’ll do you good.’

‘Wouldn’t you rather go with someone your own age? One of your friends?’ I ask.

‘I don’t have any friends my own age around here.’

‘Neither do I,’ I admit. ‘Well, not any more. They’ve all moved away.’

He gives me a meaningful look.

‘What about Vanessa?’ I ask. ‘She’s young and beautiful.’

‘Vanessa is dull,’ he states.

‘Fine,’ I reply on a whim. ‘I’ll drive you there.’

‘Jeez, Rose, you’re not my mother.’ He comes over and grasps my upper arms, giving me a little shake. ‘Let’s catch the Metro, have a few drinks. Let your hair
down.’ He glances at my bun and then back at my face.

‘I think you’d get on better with my other sister,’ I say sardonically.

I should have known the comment would come back to bite me. As soon as Toby and I are at the bar that night with drinks in our hands, he asks me about Eliza.

‘We’re not really talking to each other right now,’ I explain, but of course, that utterance demands another explanation.

‘We’ve got an hour before the band comes on,’ he says. ‘Spill.’

I take a deep breath and sigh loudly.

‘I’m your only friend,’ he reminds me, pretend seriously. ‘Talk to me.’

I smirk at him. ‘I do have one other friend in this city, you know. Angus, my flatmate. We’ve known each other since we were seventeen,’ I explain.

‘And he’s
just
your flatmate?’ He raises one eyebrow.

‘Yeah.’ I take a sip of my drink. ‘I thought I was in love with him once, but he was with Phoebe. They were engaged to be married.’

‘Whoa,’ he says, his eyes widening.

‘Before you start thinking I’m a horrible person, I should also tell you that Eliza fell for him, too, so it wasn’t just me.’

‘Christ, that’s messed up.’

It’s not the direction I was hoping this conversation would take, but I only belatedly realise my mistake.

I purse my lips. ‘Yeah. You won’t get any argument from us on that front,’ I mutter.

‘Did Phoebe know you both had the hots for him?’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t think so.’

He gives me a long, weighty stare.

‘Eliza!’ the big, burly man behind the bar suddenly exclaims. It doesn’t take a genius to work out he’s talking to me.

‘I’m her sister,’ I reply, used to this sort of thing happening, though it hasn’t for a long while.

His jaw drops. ‘You look just like each other.’

I shrug. ‘We’re identical...’

‘Twins!’ he finishes my sentence. ‘I’m Joe,’ he introduces himself.

‘Rose,’ I reply, bracing myself. Even Toby stiffened at the twins comment.

‘You don’t sing, do you? You two would look great up there.’

My expression is one of horror. ‘No, I have no musical talent whatsoever.’

He shrugs, nonplussed. ‘Well, maybe you could give your sis one of these when you next see her. I’ve just had them mocked up.’ He pulls out a photocopy of a flier from under
the bar and hands it over. There’s a picture of Eliza sitting on a stool, holding her guitar, mid-performance. She looks pensive. I feel a pinch as I stare at her image and then Toby
distracts me by peering over my shoulder.

‘Of course,’ I tell Joe. He nods and goes off to serve another customer.

‘Is she any good?’ Toby asks me.

‘You’d probably like her music.’ I fold up the piece of paper, putting it into my bag. ‘Can we go and find a table somewhere?’ I want somewhere dark, somewhere
private, where no one else is likely to mistake me for Eliza.

‘Sure.’ He picks up his drink and follows me because I’m already on my way.

My edginess melts away after my third vodka and cranberry, and when the band comes on – an indie-rock four-piece – I’m in a top mood. Toby went up to join the throng a few
minutes ago, surprised that I wanted to stay seated. In fact, he looked at me like I had horns growing out of my head. I’m just worried about people mistaking me for Eliza, or Eliza herself
lurking around somewhere. She’s obviously a regular.

I catch a glimpse of Toby. He’s wearing a dark T-shirt and jeans. I’m so used to seeing him in light-coloured clothing at the bakery, but black suits him. I feel a twinge of regret
that I’m sitting here by myself, being boring. I’m out on the town at last – why aren’t I making the most of it? What’s the big deal if another person mistakes me?

I gulp down the last of my vodka and stand up. I’ll start by going to the bar.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’ a man asks me within moments of me trying to flag down the bargirl. He’s not bad looking. Kind of ordinary, but then so was Gerard and he managed to
have two women on the go at the same time.

‘Oh, it’s fine, I’m getting two,’ I reply.

‘Have we met before?’ he asks. ‘You look kind of familiar.’

‘I don’t think so,’ I say innocently.

‘What’s your name?’ he asks.

‘Rose.’

‘That’s a beautiful name,’ he says. ‘And you are a beautiful girl’

I stifle a snort, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he introduces himself. ‘I’m Alan.’

A pair of hands land on my shoulders and I glance behind me to see Toby staring down at me with a slight frown. ‘I couldn’t see you at the table,’ he says. ‘I thought
you’d gone.’

‘Nah, just came to the bar. This is Adam,’ I explain.

‘Alan,’ he corrects me, then: ‘Sorry, mate, I didn’t know she was with you.’

Alan makes himself scarce and I crack up laughing. ‘Do I look younger than I am or do you look older?’

‘Maybe a bit of both,’ Toby says with wry amusement. ‘You don’t look twenty-eight.’

‘Brilliant,’ I reply with delight. ‘You look older than twenty-one. You’re
older than your years
,’ I add wisely, trying to keep a straight face.

‘You’re pissed,’ he points out the obvious, a smile tipping the corner of his lips.

He lifts his hand to get the bargirl’s attention. She comes straight over.

‘Can I get a glass of tap water?’ he asks her. ‘Large.’

‘And I’ll have a vodka and cranberry!’ I chip in.

‘And a beer,’ he adds drily, passing me the water when it appears. ‘Just drink it,’ he says when I begin to protest.

‘I’m supposed to be letting my hair down,’ I say self-righteously. In fact, dammit, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I reach up and pull out the bobby pins, one
by one, from my hair. It swings down into a ponytail. Nope. Don’t want that. I tug out my hair tie and shake out my blonde locks.

Toby watches with a raised eyebrow, then gets his money out to pay the bargirl. ‘Thanks.’ He takes a sip of his beer and nods at the water. ‘I don’t want you to throw up
on me later. I’ve got enough on my plate.’

I humph, but do as he asks, gulping it down in one go. I slam the empty glass back on the bar top.

‘Come on, let’s go and watch the band,’ I say, hopping to my feet and heading towards the crowd with my vodka in hand.

Any cares I had about being recognised – or more likely, mistaken – have flown out of the window. I’m pissed as a newt and ready to enjoy myself!

‘Urgh,’ I say half an hour later when I’m hunched over a plant pot on the pavement.

‘This would be easier if you hadn’t let your hair down,’ Toby muses acerbically, as he scoops back my hair into a makeshift ponytail.

‘I don’t think I’m going to be sick,’ I tell him bravely, and he lets go of my hair as I straighten back up. I regard him with confusion. ‘Did we eat?’

‘No.’ He half laughs.

‘That was pretty stupid,’ I state.

‘Yeah. I guess. You want something?’

‘Maybe we should.’

We set off down the street. ‘How are you so sober?’ I grumble.

‘I’m not. I’m actually pretty drunk, just not in comparison to you.’

This gives me the giggles again.

‘You don’t get out much, do you?’ he asks.

‘No.’ I fall silent. ‘You’re hanging out with a loser. Congratulations.’

‘You’re not a loser,’ he says warmly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. He’s so tall. And really very good-looking.
Imagine what he’s going to be like in a few years’ time!

Hot. As. Hell.

‘Hey, how about a burger?’ he asks, distracting me from my wayward thoughts.

We come to a stop outside a restaurant called
Roxy’s.
The name sounds familiar, but I don’t know why.

And then I see her. But of course. Mum told me that Eliza works here.

‘No,’ I say, backing away.

‘Is that your sister?’ Toby asks with amazement, following the line of my sight.

I come to a standstill on the pavement. I’m still staring at her. She’s wearing a uniform: a red dress with a white apron, and her hair has been pulled up into a high ponytail. But
despite the hairstyle she doesn’t look like Phoebe. She looks too thin to be Phoebe. But she’s still beautiful.

Even if I do say so myself.

I come to my senses, sobering up momentarily. Toby is still standing on the pavement, staring.

‘You know, if you were a bit older, you’d be completely her type.’

I don’t know why I just told him that.

‘Really?’ He raises one eyebrow, but doesn’t stop looking at her. He seems fascinated.

I turn and walk away.

‘Oi!’ he calls, running after me. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Home. I think I need my bed more than food at this moment.’

‘The Metro’s this way.’ He snatches my hand and tugs me to a stop.

In the same movement, I spin around to face him.

‘I like you, Toby,’ I find myself solemnly declaring. ‘You’re going to be a really good catch for someone one day.’

His dark eyes stare down at me. My stomach churns, but not from nausea. I suddenly feel very strange as I watch his eyebrows pull together. Then he breaks eye contact and stares over my
head.

‘Come on, Rose,’ he says quietly. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Eliza

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask with surprise when I finish my shift and come out of
Roxy’s
to see Angus’s Land Rover parked on double yellow
lines. It’s eleven thirty, which is later than usual for a Monday night.

‘Can I give you a ride home?’ he asks through the open window. He sounds on edge.

‘Sure,’ I reply hesitantly, wondering if something is wrong.

He looks stressed as he reaches across the passenger seat and opens the door for me. I go around to the other side of the car and climb in, glancing at him. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah.’ He nods and starts up the ignition, pulling away from the kerb. Nerves pulse through me when I realise that we haven’t even kissed each other hello. Does he regret what
happened between us? Is he going to be the one to end it this time?

When I left him this morning, I told him I was going to go to the graveyard. He didn’t take the news well. His lips formed a dead-straight line and he could barely look at me.

‘Is that really necessary?’ he asked.

‘I feel like I want to say something to her,’ I told him.

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know, Angus, but it’s nothing for you to be concerned about.’

He didn’t seem convinced, but he had to get into work so we bade each other farewell and that was the last I’ve heard or seen of him all day.

I wasn’t sure when we’d be able to hook up again. With my late-night shifts and his daytime ones, we’re not going to cross over a whole lot. Unless he comes out late like this
and risks Rose getting suspicious... We’re going to have to tell her sooner or later. If we’re still together.

‘What are you thinking?’ Angus asks.

‘Nothing,’ I reply.

‘You just sighed. What were you sighing about?’

‘Rose,’ I reply quietly. ‘And us.’

I swivel in my seat to face him, studying his side profile in the street lamps as we pass. From light to shade, orange to black.

‘Do you have any regrets?’ I ask in a small voice.

He glances at me and then flicks his indicator on, pulling up on the kerb.

‘No,’ he says firmly. He kisses me gently, but my lips part and I breathe in sharply, wanting more. ‘Do you?’ he whispers, hovering just millimetres from my mouth. He
doesn’t deepen the kiss like I’d like him to.

‘No.’

We drive the rest of the way in silence and the atmosphere is charged. Last night, when we had sex, we’d been drinking. Tonight we are both stone-cold sober.

‘Come up?’ I ask uncertainly when we arrive at my apartment.

We walk side by side into the building. I press the button for the lift, and he conducts his usual examination of the graffiti in the lobby, the incongruous stains on the lino and the flickering
fluorescent light over our heads.