‘… as root canal work. And I just want to know why.’
He looked at me and shook his head. ‘Why what? I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you drunk?’
‘No I am not drunk!’ I exclaimed, losing what little cool I had left. ‘I’m pissed off and hurt.’
He shrugged. ‘OK, but I can’t see what that has to do with me.’
I glared down at him, wanting to take him by the lapels and rattle him. ‘What’s happened to you?’ I snapped, pointing at him. ‘You’re not Felix.’
He frowned and stood up, so that he was now looking down at me as we stood just a few feet apart. ‘And why would you think that?’ he asked. ‘Because I’ve lost four stone, had a haircut and am no longer at your complete beck and call?’
I blinked, feeling suddenly uncertain and under-prepared for this exchange. I had expected him to apologise and agree to try harder. Felix going on the offensive was not a scenario that I had worked through. ‘What? No. That’s not what I meant.’
‘Isn’t it? Because maybe I could say that now you’ve acquired some dress sense and lost all consideration for the feelings of others, you’re not Dot.’
‘How dare you say that I’ve lost all consideration for people’s feelings?’ I exploded. ‘Especially when you…’ I paused, feeling both emotionally and physically wobbly and desperately trying to pull myself together, ‘when you have just deliberately humiliated me in front of my ex-boyfriend.’
He held up his hands. ‘And once again, you’ve completely lost me,’ he sighed. ‘So why don’t you go and drink lots of water, Dorothy, and we’ll continue this conversation when you’ve sobered up. Or preferably never,’ he added in an undertone, bending down to retrieve his phone.
‘No!’ I grabbed his arm and pulled him upright. ‘We’re having this conversation right now, because I want to know what I’ve done to deserve being treated like that.’
‘Like what, for God’s sake?’ he asked impatiently, shaking me off.
‘Like refusing to dance with me and telling Alistair to dance with me instead.’
He appeared confused for a moment, and then his expression cleared. ‘Oh, is Alistair your ex?’
‘Of course he is,’ I seethed. ‘As you well know.’
He shook his head. ‘Nope. I did not know that.’
‘Yes you did!’ I protested. ‘I told you all about him when we went for coffee on Thursday. And yet just now, out there,’ I pointed towards the door, ‘you behaved as if you couldn’t wait to get away from me, and then you told the man who no longer wants to be in a relationship with me to dance with me because you couldn’t be arsed. You actually called him my perfect partner. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? How much that hurt? Of course you don’t, because you,’ I continued angrily, prodding a finger against his chest, ‘whoever you are, are completely devoid of feeling and compassion. I’ve got a fridge at home that’s warmer than you.’
Until then, he had been looking at me with something approaching mild amusement, but now his face darkened. ‘So let me get this straight,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re in here yelling at me and looking like you want to kill me because I didn’t recall that Alistair was your ex?’
‘You—’ I began, but he held up a hand.
‘Shut up. It’s my turn,’ he said before continuing without pause. ‘Do you know how many people I have been introduced to, and introduced myself to, today?’ he asked, the irritation in his voice rising steadily. ‘Do you know how many hours of conversation I’ve participated in? How much information I’ve been bombarded with? How many personal facts I’ve attempted to absorb and retain? All with zero support from you, and all the while trying not to do or say anything which might alert your grandmother, your parents, your extended family and your friends to the fact that you’ve been lying to them.’
I stared up at him, momentarily struck dumb by the list of witheringly rhetorical questions.
He smiled humourlessly. ‘You don’t know? Well that’s OK because I don’t either. But what I do know is that you,’ he jabbed an index finger towards me, causing me to take an unsteady step backwards, ‘deserve none of the effort that I have gone to. And neither do you deserve your family and friends because, quite frankly, they’re all too good for you. You are ungrateful, disinterested and self-centred. You complain that I’m not Felix. But how the hell would you even know? Have you asked me anything about myself?’
I maintained my increasingly ashamed silence.
‘Have you?’ he pressed.
‘I think I did ask you some…’ I began uncertainly, now actually unable to recall asking him even one direct personal question. ‘I mean I’m pretty sure I at least tried. It felt like I tried.’
‘Well, not hard enough for me to notice,’ he replied angrily. ‘You turned up at my office, after fifteen years of silence, suddenly wanting to be friends again. And why? Because you wanted something. That was the only reason, wasn’t it?’
‘It wasn’t just that,’ I said, my voice now little more than a whisper. ‘I was really looking forward to seeing you and was interested in—’
‘Sure you were,’ he interrupted scathingly. ‘So interested that you didn’t even ask me if I had a partner. You came along, asked me to go to a wedding with you and didn’t even wonder whether that might be inconvenient to a current relationship.’
I hung my head. ‘I did wonder but I didn’t know how to ask. I just assumed you’d say if it was a problem.’ I mumbled my feeble defence at half volume.
‘Well it doesn’t matter anyway,’ he snapped, snatching up his phone, tapping it and then thrusting it towards me. I focused and saw several text messages, together with a picture of the same blonde who had been draped all over him in the nightclub photograph, except in this particular photo she was make-up-free and wholesome: a glowing Gwyneth Paltrow lookalike. ‘It doesn’t matter because she’d already dumped me three months before you came along. It’s all very amicable, of course,’ he said, with obvious bitterness. ‘She texts me several times a day and sends me lots of happy photos to make sure I realise that everything’s great between us, but she’s still shagging someone else.’
‘Oh no, that’s awful. I’m so sorry, Felix,’ I said, staring at the picture and putting a hand to my mouth. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘No, you didn’t,’ he pushed his phone into his jacket pocket, ‘because you’re too wrapped up in getting what you want, focusing on your worries and your needs and making sure that no one screws anything up for you. It’s all about you, isn’t it? But then it always was.’
‘What?’ I asked weakly, looking up and feeling a tear escape. ‘What do you mean? We were best friends. I would have done anything—’
‘God, I’d hate to have been one of your lower-tier mates!’ He laughed humourlessly. ‘All you did to me was ignore my letters and then ask me to back up your lies fifteen years later. What did you do to them? Have them stuffed for use as footstools?’ he concluded, turning and walking away.
‘Felix,’ I said, reaching for his arm but missing and stumbling forward. ‘What letters? I didn’t get any letters.’
‘I’m going to sort a cab,’ he said, neither stopping nor turning round. ‘Tell your family I’m sorry but I’m unwell, and if they get in touch I’ll say the same.’
‘Felix, please don’t go. I understand why you’re angry. But let me explain,’ I began, hurrying after him. ‘You looked so different in Cheltenham. And I know that might seem shallow, but it threw me. I hadn’t expected you to be so professional and serious and I couldn’t seem to find the person I knew and I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. I felt silly. I was intimidated.’ I rattled the sentences off at speed and without pause for breath. At the end of my little summing-up for the defence, I heaved a sob, no longer having the energy or the will to suppress it. ‘I’m just so sorry,’ I whispered.
He paused with his back to me and his hand resting on the handle of the door. ‘You and me both,’ he
said quietly. And then, roughly pulling open the door, he left.
* * *
I lay full-length on one of the sofas in the lounge and gave myself a good ten minutes to calm down before heading upstairs to my parents’ room, for which I had a key card. Once there, I raided my mother’s make-up bag, doing my best to disguise my tear-swollen eyes and, more importantly, not to think any more about Felix.
I had already decided that I would call him the next day and apologise for the selfishness upon which he had so devastatingly shone a spotlight. But perhaps most of all, I wanted to tell him that I hadn’t ignored his letters all those years ago, but simply hadn’t received them. And also, for what it was worth, that I had sent him postcards while on my travels. It wasn’t much, I knew, but at least it would show that I hadn’t forgotten him the moment I had set foot on the first plane.
But although I was desperate to attempt to right all wrongs done to Felix, past and present, I was equally desperate not to spoil my sister’s wedding day. So, having done my best with my mother’s cooling eye cream and under-eye concealer, I hurried downstairs to fulfil my long-overdue promise to get people dancing.
I re-entered the bar to delighted cries of ‘There she is!’ from my father and grandmother, who were now seated, with Alistair, at the table I had vacated half an hour earlier. I smiled as brightly as I could manage and hurried over to them.
‘Sorry, everyone,’ I said on arrival. ‘I felt a bit green and went upstairs to splash my face with cold water. I think it was a combination of the heat and drinking that champagne too quickly. Do I look OK, Nanny?’ I asked, bending down to give her a kiss. ‘I’ve redone my make-up.’
‘Gilding the lily,’ she said, reaching up and giving me a hug. ‘But we were worried, Dottie.’
I straightened up and looked at Dad and Alistair. ‘Sorry. I just needed to cool down.’
Alistair nodded but looked unconvinced.
‘And you’re feeling recovered enough to be up and about so soon, are you, Dot?’ asked Dad with concern.
‘Absolutely,’ I smiled. ‘So,’ I said, addressing Nanny Flo, and anxious to move on from the topic of my health, ‘how about we go and tear up the dance floor?’
She laughed loudly. ‘No thank you, love. Your uncle Geoffrey has twirled me and my chair around quite enough for one evening. What was that song he had me dancing to, Don? The famous Beatles one.’
‘Twist and Shout.’
I smiled. ‘Oh, OK.’ I turned to Dad and was just about to ask him if he’d like to dance when it struck me that he might be too tired and decline, which would then leave me drowning in the déjà vu of an offer from Alistair. So I said nothing and, choosing instead to play for time, crouched down and mumbled something about adjusting my heel strap.
‘And besides,’ continued Nanny Flo, placing a gentle hand on my back as I stooped down beside her. ‘There’s this handsome young man right here without a partner, ready and waiting to dance with you.’
I fiddled pointlessly for a little longer with my shoe, waiting for my stressed blushes to subside and preparing myself to stand up and graciously accept Alistair’s kind offer.
‘There, that’s sorted,’ I said after a moment.
I was aware of a hand being extended downwards to help me to my feet and, taking it, I stood up.
‘OK?’ asked Felix. He offered me a look of concern which somehow made the enquiry seem unanswerably enormous.
I gazed up at him, stretching my eyes to the max and tilting my head back slightly in an attempt to contain any tears.
I nodded.
‘Good,’ he said, ‘because I’ve just talked the DJ into playing our song.’
‘Yes, Felix went missing at the very same time you did,’ chimed Nanny Flo. ‘I said to your father, “They’re making whoopee upstairs.” Didn’t I say that to you, Don?’
‘Yes, yes you did, Flo,’ said Dad awkwardly. ‘More than once, in fact.’
‘But Felix told me he went to the toilet, where there was a queue,’ said my grandmother, a look of intense concentration on her face as she began to tick off Felix’s movements on her fingers, ‘and then he went to ask the DJ to play your special song, and then he went to look for you. Isn’t that right, Felix?’
‘It is,’ he said, still looking at me.
Nanny Flo squeezed my arm. ‘And now he’s found you. Isn’t that lovely, Dottie?’
I nodded again.
‘She’s overcome,’ said Nanny Flo.
Felix smiled. ‘Come on then,’ he said, ‘or we’ll miss our song. It’s on next.’ And, still holding my hand, he led me across the bar and towards the doors to the disco.
As we reached them, I stopped short and pulled him back a little. ‘Hang on a moment,’ I said.
‘Yes?’
‘What is our song?’
‘Who knows,’ he shrugged. ‘How about we decide when I open the door?’
I smiled. ‘OK.’
He smiled back at me and, reaching out, pushed the door ajar. We were greeted by The Cure.
‘Friday I’m in Love!’ I exclaimed. ‘Oh wow, I love this song.’
‘Me too,’ he replied as we went inside, ‘so let’s dance.’
Chapter 13
‘And after that,’ I yawned, leaning back in my swivel chair, ‘we had a really nice time. We danced with all the wallflowers until the disco finished at midnight, and then we shared a taxi with a couple of Mark’s mates back to Devizes.’
‘Aw,’ said Kate, smiling broadly as I finished my carefully edited account of the weekend. I had decided to omit any reference to my argument with Felix, saying only that we’d managed to catch up a bit during the day and that I had discovered that he’d split up with his girlfriend in April. ‘And congratulations. You got away with it.’ Kate raised her coffee mug to me in salute, before tipping it back, taking a final sip and replacing it on the desk in front of her.
I smiled a little uncertainly, the sense of guilt, which had happily faded as my relationship with Felix had improved, now resurfacing as Kate reminded me of the deception central to my weekend. ‘Yes, but it was good to see Felix whatever the reason. And I’m going to text him later to invite him to Bristol for a weekend visit. I thought I might get us tickets for something. You know, to say thank you and to show him that I am genuinely interested in catching up and haven’t just been using him.’
Kate’s eyes narrowed. ‘You had a row with him, didn’t you?’
‘What?’ I laughed and shook my head dismissively. ‘No. Not at all.’
‘Yes you did,’ she said. ‘He said that you were just using him and you insisted you genuinely wanted to catch up. You’re so transparent, Dot. You’re walking talking cellophane.’
I thought about protesting, but knew from experience that denial would get me nowhere and wondered why I had tried to hide anything from her in the first place.
‘OK, so my motives and approach might have been gently questioned by Felix at one point, but,’ I continued defensively, ‘we parted on good terms. And I always intended to offer him dinner or an evening out to say thank you. It’s just that now that we’ve cleared the air and are more relaxed with each other, I think a weekend visit might actually be really good fun.’
‘I’m sure it would,’ agreed Kate. ‘But as well as arranging that…’ she paused and looked at me over the top of her glasses, ‘you’re going to have to think about that all-important chat with your mum and granny, aren’t you?’
I nodded. ‘I will, but I can’t do it hot on the heels of Becca’s wedding. Besides, I think it’s the kind of thing I need to say in person, rather than over the phone, and I’m not sure when I’m next seeing Mum.’
‘Hey,’ said Kate sternly, picking up a pen and pointing it at me, ‘no more fannying around. You don’t have to phone her this minute and say I’ve dumped him, but you can start to lay the groundwork. Sort it out,’ she concluded, tapping the desk with her pen for emphasis.
‘I’m going to,’ I i
nsisted. ‘I know I’ve got to. Especially now that Mum’s got Felix’s phone number. She’ll be hassling him about birthdays and Christmas before too long.’
Kate looked appalled. ‘She’s got his phone number? How did that happen?’
I shrugged. ‘She asked him for it and he gave it to her.’
‘What?’ She looked genuinely confused. ‘You mean he gave your mother his actual number? The correct one?’
‘He’s not as instinctively evil as you, Kate,’ I said.
‘Or you,’ she said. ‘How many times did you give her the wrong number when you switched to O2?’
‘That was a genuine mistake,’ I protested, ‘on each occasion.’
‘Whatever,’ she said. ‘But you’re right, your mum having direct access to him is definitely another reason not to faff about over clearing things up.’
‘I won’t, I promise,’
She smiled. ‘Good. Well, I’m going to go and get us our Monday buns from next door,’ she said purposefully, standing up before immediately sitting back down again. ‘Ooh, but before I do, how did it go with, you know…’ She concluded the sentence by mouthing the word Alistair.
‘I hardly saw him,’ I said. ‘Although we did bump into him at dinner on Friday night, which wasn’t great. I hadn’t realised that he was staying at the Bear as well.’
‘When you say we bumped into him – your mum wasn’t there, was she?’
I nodded slowly and Kate’s mouth stretched into an expression of dread. ‘Eek,’ was all she said.
I continued to nod and took a deep breath. ‘It wasn’t my favourite five minutes ever. But Mum behaved herself the next day, thank goodness, and I only had one brief chat with him in the bar before the disco. I was with Felix and barely sat down after that and didn’t have time to think.’
‘You mean you couldn’t think because you were pissed?’ asked Kate.
‘A bit,’ I admitted. ‘And then I had breakfast in bed the next morning, because obviously I didn’t want Alistair to see me eating breakfast without Felix.’
‘Cunning,’ she said, standing up again. ‘And, like I said, you seem to have got away with everything. But I hope all this has been a lesson to you, Dot.’
Finding Felix Page 9
