by Carol Wyer
The whole singleton experience was proving hugely beneficial to her and when Eleanor asked if she could take photos of her with the border collie and the ducks, she readily agreed, even knowing Eleanor would send it to the local papers. The wave of euphoria had numbed her usual reluctance to oblige and she reasoned it was the least she could do for her friend.
‘Any good news?’ she whispered after Eleanor had snapped the picture.
‘I’m still hopeful,’ was all Eleanor said. ‘Thanks for this. Can I ask you for a quote about why you like coming to the club events?’
‘Erm, how about: I’d never have met so many interesting and fun people and had such a laugh if I hadn’t joined the club. Does that sound okay? Not too lame?’
‘It sounds good to me and honest. I’ll send it in with the photograph. By the way, what job shall I put for occupation? I don’t want to put Chloe Piper, unemployed. Journalists always want your name, age and occupation.’
Chloe couldn’t think quickly enough. What should she say? She certainly didn’t want to divulge her actual occupation. She couldn’t let many people know her identity. Her heartbeat increased sending a thudding beat to her temples that drowned out reason. The damn panic was rising again as it always did when she suddenly felt out of control. She spotted Sean talking to Jacqueline, her head back, white teeth on display. ‘Bookshop assistant.’
Spotting the look in his direction, Eleanor gave an approving nod. ‘That’s great. The club not only brings together new friends, it creates opportunities. I might have to use that in my next press release or on the site.’ She scribbled it down. Chloe studied the ducks, now pecking at some bread. She’d have to explain the lie to Sean. He’d understand. For a moment she considered buying her own ducks and putting them in a pen on her land. She could use their eggs and they’d be great company. She could even train Ronnie to help her herd them. He was clever. Far cleverer than William had ever given him credit for. Nanny Olive knew he was a bright dog too. He’d demonstrated his intelligence on many an occasion and the day her grandmother had had her stroke, he’d remained by her side the entire time she was unconscious until the paramedics took her away, and then he’d sat in his basket waiting until Chloe collected him, as if his canine brain had understood Nanny Olive would never be coming home. She turned back to join the others and froze. Eleanor was talking to Sean and Jacqueline and pointing in her direction. She quickened her pace.
Jacqueline was quick to congratulate her. ‘You kept that quiet. You’re going to be helping out Sean, I hear.’
‘He asked me a while ago. I only just made up my mind. I needed to get settled into my new home first.’ Chloe tried not to cringe at yet another lie.
Ed joined the conversation. ‘It’s too easy to procrastinate at home. Bad for the mind and bad for the health. Glad you’ve found a job, Chloe.’
‘What job?’ said William.
Sean spoke up. ‘She’s going to manage the bookshop on Wednesday afternoons.’
‘You are?’
She nodded, wishing the ground would open and swallow her. How had she managed to back herself into this corner?
William gave her a warm smile. ‘Good for you. I’m very pleased for you.’
The group began to break up and leave. William walked towards her nonchalantly. His voice was low and he spoke close to her ear. ‘Really proud of you, Chloe. You’ve shown me, haven’t you?’
‘Shown? I don’t understand.’
‘What a bloody idiot I’ve been. Look at you: a winner, a popular member of this club and you’re going back to work. I ought to have remembered your qualities. They were always there waiting to shine again. You only needed time and space. You’re amazing.’
He walked away again, leaving her discombobulated. He was being incredibly nice to her. Had Faith been wrong when she talked about leopards and spots. Could William actually have changed?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tuesday, 14th February
‘Come on hold them up so I can see,’ said Faith.
Chloe giggled and lifted the Valentine Day cards. The first was simple and had a picture of a dog holding a rose in his mouth. It had been signed Ronnie.
‘I know this one’s from you.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘It’s got a London postmark and I recognised your writing.’
‘I confess I helped him out. Ronnie has many talents but writing isn’t one of them. If I’d known you were going to get so many other cards, I wouldn’t have made him walk all the way to the post office to send it to you.’
Chloe blew her friend a kiss. ‘Love you.’
‘Love you too, babe. Where are the others?’
Chloe held up a card with a pink heart and the words ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’.
‘Five out of ten points; this one is lacking imagination. Surely the person who sent this could have come up with something more romantic or amusing? There are a gazillion cards with romantic, even suggestive verses. I reckon that’s from somebody who’s not serious about you being their love; probably a friend, someone who wants you feel loved and wants you to know they’re thinking about you. Message?’
‘Just a kiss.’
‘It’s definitely from a friend.’
‘Thank you, Doctor Faith, the card analyst. You mean someone like Sean?’
‘I mean exactly like Sean or maybe even your new gardening buddy – Ed.’
‘He wouldn’t!’ said Chloe.
‘You can never tell. Just because he’s older than you and lost his wife to cancer doesn’t mean he can’t fancy you and besides, didn’t you say he’s offered to help you in the garden after he’s landscaped it? Could be him. Could be either of them. Next card.’
Chloe lifted the large object so Faith could see it clearly. She winced at the glittery letters, ‘Be My Valentine’.
‘Bit too sparkly but I quite like the earnest little bear holding a heart-shaped balloon. What’s inside?’
‘If only…’
‘Cryptic. I like that. He’s redeemed himself. Okay, ten points for the message and five for the card.’
‘Who do you think might have sent it?’
‘Tricky question. Of all those people you know up there and have spoken about, I’d say it might have come from Alex. It’s the message, “If only”, more than the front of the card that makes me suspect it’s him. If only he had more time to spend with you… if only he had the guts to ask you out… if only you weren’t such a hermit… could be him.’
‘I disagree. If anything, he’d be more likely to send the first card. In fact, I don’t think he’d send me a card at all. He doesn’t strike me as all that romantic.’
‘Chloe, you’ve no idea how romantic he might or might not be. You haven’t given him much of a chance.’ Chloe gave a small shrug. It was true. She was hugely attracted to him but wasn’t prepared to invest in their relationship knowing he was going to leave soon after the last house was built. That would be crazy. Maybe If only referred to the possibilities that might have taken place between them if he hadn’t been leaving for Spain.
‘Okay. Perhaps it’s from Alex then, and what about this one?’
Faith squinted and read out the words on the front of the card, ‘For you my heart is full of love, floating to the clouds above.’
‘Well?’
‘Flash and clichéd.’
‘Valentine’s Day is all about hearts. How can this be clichéd?’
‘To start with it is overly large and how many hearts do you need on one card? That’s a snowstorm of hearts over a heart-shaped box topped with a red rose. I’m surprised the rose hasn’t got a heart-shaped head. And the rhyme – yuck! It’s a romantic overload. Did he write a message inside?’
‘No, he drew a heart. Come on, Doctor, who do you think it’s from?’
Faith shook her head. ‘I’m beaten. It’s either a starry-eyed stalker or a really nice bloke. Or, it might be from William. He’s been pretty nice to you
recently and regrets his actions.’
‘William never bought me cards. He said Valentine’s Day was nothing more than a commercial event fabricated by card companies and flower shops and that you didn’t need a special day to tell somebody you loved them.’
‘Yep, I forgot about that. He really was a keeper, wasn’t he?’
‘To be fair to him, he had a point. It can be a waste of money, especially when you’re married. Besides, he made other romantic gestures.’ Chloe scowled. Why was she sticking up for him? Was it because she thought the card could actually be from him?
‘You’re only saying that because he brainwashed you into believing he was right. Look how happy you are that you received cards this year. It’s nice to feel wanted and have mysterious admirers.’ She offered a cheeky grin. ‘Want to see mine?’
Chloe moved closer to the screen to study the plain pink card Faith was showing her and guffawed loudly. ‘“Annoyingly I like you way more than I planned”,’ she read. ‘That it? No hearts, no flowers, no cute bears?’
‘No. Simple and to the point. Who said romance was dead?’ Faith replied and sat back, eyes twinkling. ‘Tell me about the person who sent me this.’
Chloe screwed up her face. ‘It’s quite good in that it’s different and stands out. It’s a guy with a sense of humour. Any message inside?’ Chloe asked.
Faith opened it up and revealed the phone number written at the top.
‘Oh, he’s not shy, is he? Have you rung the number to see who sent it?’
‘I already know this number. It’s a bloke I met on Barbados. We’ve been out for drinks a couple of times. He’s called Greg and he’s an audiobook producer. We’ve been in negotiations to record some of my authors’ books.’
‘Is he nice?’ Chloe could tell by the way Faith twiddled with the strand of beads she was wearing that she thought so.
‘I like him,’ she said eventually.
‘I’m very pleased for you. I’ll want updates on this budding relationship.’
‘Not a lot to say at the moment. We get on very well. He’s divorced and lives about twenty minutes from me by Tube. It’s very early days but he makes me laugh. A lot. Which is good, isn’t it? I rang him to thank him for the card and he told me he’s got us tickets for Wicked and booked a table at some swanky restaurant but which one we’re going to is a surprise.’
‘That’s great!’ Chloe was genuinely happy for her friend. Faith had been alone for a long time and deserved some love and happiness again.
* * *
Humming as she prepared a sandwich for lunch, Chloe got a shock to see an enormous bunch of roses bobbing past her kitchen window. She scurried to the back door in time to greet the person holding them. It was Eleanor.
‘They’re not from me. They’d been dropped off by your front door and I thought I’d bring them around for you. Didn’t want them to wilt. You have an admirer.’ Eleanor handed them over. Chloe searched for a card to see who had sent them but found none.
‘It would seem they’re an anonymous admirer.’
Eleanor gave her a small smile. ‘Well, I’m no detective but I spotted Alex leaving here earlier.’
Chloe’s heartbeat increased at this news. Surely he wouldn’t? ‘You don’t think he’d have left them, do you?’
‘If I were to put two and two together, that’s what I’d come up with. Ask him.’
‘What if they’re not from him.’
‘Then he’ll say so.’
‘Or, if he doesn’t want to be confronted.’
‘Chloe, a man willing to spend a serious amount of money on a dozen beautiful red roses for Valentine’s Day is definitely going to want you to guess who sent them.’
Chloe lifted them up to her nose and breathed in their scent. ‘They smell wonderful. Such a delicate fragrance.’
‘You lucky girl.’
‘Did Fairfax treat you to flowers?’
‘Fairfax is well-trained. He brought me breakfast in bed complete with a single red rose, a lovely card and this.’ She held up her wrist on which she wore a bracelet bearing a single pink heart charm.
‘That’s beautiful.’
‘I know.’ Eleanor gazed at the bracelet and without warning her face crumpled and she wailed, ‘Oh Chloe, I don’t deserve this present, or any present. I’m a horrible wife. Only last night I told him the business was improving and we’d had enquiries from potential clients and it’s not true. I can’t face telling him we’re getting nowhere.’
‘Sit down. I’ll make us a pot of tea.’
Eleanor blew her nose. ‘I’m making matters worse. By the time I get around to telling him the truth, the business will be on its knees and he’ll lose confidence in me.’
Chloe turned serious blue-grey eyes on her friend. ‘It isn’t my place to say this but in my experience you shouldn’t keep back anything from somebody you love. Lies, no matter if there are good intentions behind them, have a habit of getting out of control and from what I know of Fairfax, he’d rather be in the mess with you than kept in the dark. He’s a wonderful support and he loves you. I’d tell him the truth now before it gets out of your control.’
Eleanor’s eyes filled. ‘He had such conviction in me and this business model. He sank everything in it for my sake. I don’t want him to think I’ve let him down.’
‘He won’t think that, but he might lose trust in you if you keep this from him for much longer.’
She left Eleanor digesting her words and made the tea, bringing it and two cups to the table before joining her guest. ‘Have you had any enquiries at all?’
‘Two but nothing came of them.’
‘Then you weren’t horrendously deceitful. You actually had enquiries. I’d come clean if I were you. You’re partners, not just business partners. You won’t be able to maintain this pretence. He’ll see the accounts or the number of members or something and work it out for himself.’
‘He usually deals with the organisation of the events so I’ve managed so far.’
‘That doesn’t mean you’ll be able to keep it up. He’s not a fool. He can count and see only the same ten people are attending events no matter what you tell him.’
The sobs came faster. ‘I kept hoping it would improve. I spent a fortune advertising for new members this month. I put ads in the magazines for a Valentine Special and still, I only had two enquiries. I keep emailing press releases and getting no response and have no success in getting the articles into papers. I was sure they’d love the Sumo wrestling article or the Argocat photographs. What am I doing wrong, Chloe?’
Chloe didn’t know how to help. Faith always handled publicity for book launches and her authors. She had a huge list of contacts, and maintaining it was about networking rather than advertising. Whenever there was a book launch, she’d invite all the journalists she knew to a free drinks event and give away signed copies of the book together with a goody bag. It always worked. The reviews would come thick and fast and positive articles in all the press. ‘I really don’t know what to suggest. You need a lucky break or somebody important to participate in the events. Have you thought of inviting journalists and local dignitaries like the Lord Mayor, or council officials to participate for free? Give them all a day to remember. If the journalists enjoy it, they’ll surely write about it. Who doesn’t love freebies?’
Eleanor sat bolt upright. ‘Why didn’t I think of that? That’s an incredibly good idea.’ Her eyelids fluttered as she considered the possibilities and finally she smiled at Chloe. ‘Thank you. I’ll do that as soon as I get back. Fairfax is out today. I’ll phone the local newspapers and invite the editors to a really good event. In fact, if you don’t mind, I’ll nip back home and get onto it immediately. Chloe, you could be a life-saver. You ought to be a consultant.’ She leapt to her feet, hugged Chloe in a tight embrace and dashed off.
Chloe poured herself a cup of tea and collected her hastily abandoned sandwich. Who’d have thought it? People coming to her for advice. Sh
e laughed at the thought. Her eyes alighted on the roses, now in water in the sink. They were beautiful. She couldn’t believe Alex might have sent them. He hadn’t given any indication he was interested in her romantically. Or had he, and she’d missed the signals because she was so wrapped up in her own world? She might wait to see if he mentioned the flowers rather than her bring up the subject. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself, in spite of what Eleanor said.
She finished her sandwich and went in search of a vase for her flowers. So far, this was the best Valentine’s Day she’d had in years.
* * *
The online forum for sufferers of social anxiety disorder offered all sorts of advice and help for those who required it. Since moving to the new development and joining the singleton club, Chloe had found herself dispensing advice almost as often as requesting it. Hitherto, she’d have skulked in the online shadows hoping for answers to soothe her insecurities rather than asking questions, but she’d become bolder of late and chalked her progress up to recent events. She was following a thread with some interest. One member of the group was anxious about giving a speech to fellow work colleagues and asking what he could do. At the moment he was plan was to throw a sickie rather than face a room full of people.
Chloe visited the forum regularly. If nothing else it helped her to know there were others like her who suffered to a lesser or greater extent and at least understood how she felt. The person giving the speech was advised to try calming techniques with which she was familiar. Another person was trying out a new therapy treatment that involved imaging the worst scenario possible, so in this case, people jeering at the speech, laughing or sneering, and then when the speech was given and the result nothing as bad as expected, it would be an advancement.
It was an interesting approach and she decided to research it further. She had good reason to, now that she’d agreed to take up Sean’s offer to work in the bookshop on Wednesdays. She’d taken to the place and if it were as sleepy as he suggested, she would manage. There wouldn’t be crowds of strangers, only a few children and fellow book lovers and she would cope. At least, she hoped she could. You’re stronger than you think. ‘I’m trying, Nanny. I so want to get back to at least where I was before I met William and maybe even beyond that,’ she said out loud. Reading the threads in the online forum was her way of building up to her first day at the bookshop. Sean had taken her to one side after the revelation she’d made to Eleanor after the duck herding…
