‘Aww, come on, Jane. I only want to talk, a coffee, maybe?’
‘No, go away, Andy, it’s too little too late. Sod off out of my life.’
‘Not friends?’
‘No!’
‘We can talk things over, clear the air?’
‘No!’
‘Not even for Rachel’s sake? She wouldn’t want us falling out at her wedding …’
‘Arghh.’ I think what I make is a kind of strangled cat noise, because Louie’s normal plaintive squeak turns into a yowl of panic and he scrambles free from Freddie, practically walks up the wall, lands on Andy’s head and does a head over heels down his back before heading for the outside world.
‘Crumbs. Bloody hell! You better not have left the outside door open.’ I shove him out of the way and fly down the steps after the cat.
‘Oh my God! Louie, Louie! Louie!!’ I spin round on the doorstep desperate to see a flash of ginger fur. ‘Here, kitty, kitty. Oh, shit.’
Don’t ever dash out in only a bedsheet. Just saying. And if you do, don’t do a twirl. The embarrassment of being wrapped ever tighter and falling over would have been fab compared to this.
I have unravelled.
‘Shit, shit.’ I gather up the sheet as fast as I can and try to cover my boobs and bottom at the same time, with the same tiny piece, which isn’t working as somebody has just hooted their horn. ‘Morning, morning!’ Act cool, as though this is normal. Oh, Gawd, now it’s got snagged on a bush.
But it hasn’t. It has got snagged on the claws of a tiny kitten. ‘Oh, thank God for that. Thank you, thank you!’ I offer up thanks as I reel in the cotton with him attached to the end, then gather him to my chest, realising as I do that only one breast is covered. But I don’t care. Well, I do, when white van man thanks me with a rude hand gesture.
‘Bloody hell, are you okay?’
Freddie is staring down at me, holding out a hand. I grab it and am halfway to my feet, when he’s shoved aside. I plop back down on my bum.
‘Jane! What on earth, it’s only a cat you know.’
I hold Louie up for Freddie, then scramble back to my feet via my knees, and rearrange my sheet as though it is normal street attire.
‘You,’ I poke Andy in the chest as I push my way past him, ‘are an arse.’
He laughs heartily. But it’s his false laugh, I know it is, and I feel a little sorry for him. That he feels he has to do this. ‘I always did love you when you were in a feisty mood, you’ve no idea what it did to me.’
‘Normally, it made you yell, because you didn’t like me standing up to you!’ This was true. Our biggest blow ups were when I stood up to him. ‘And you have no idea what I’m already doing for Rachel’s sake! And,’ I turn back, ‘Louie is not only a cat, he’s my cat! Well, our cat. Mine and Freddie’s cat.’
Andy raises an eyebrow, and I can just tell he’s about to say something I don’t want to hear.
So, I link my arm through Freddie’s and pick my way gingerly over the gravel, leaving Andy outside.
A long shower, getting dressed and feeding Louie calms me down.
‘Gone a bit cold.’ Freddie pushes the toast towards me and we look at each other.
‘Sorry about …’ It’s not quite how I imagined the day would start.
‘Cool. It’s not a problem, unless …’
‘Unless?’
He puts down the knife that he’s been scraping burned bits of toast off with. ‘Unless you wanted him to come round? I mean, that makes me look a bit of a plonker, doesn’t it?’
‘Oh, God, Freddie, no! You’re not a plonker, no way … that,’ I wave my hand towards the bedroom, ‘was, you know …’
He raises an eyebrow and I feel myself burning up under his scrutiny.
‘Amazing.’ It comes out very small. Except amazing is a big word, maybe I’ve overdone that. ‘Great. Nice.’
‘You’ve gone from amazing to nice there.’
‘I know.’ I twiddle with the toggle of my sweatshirt self-consciously, then when there’s no response I glance up.
‘If it helps,’ his voice was soft, ‘I’d go with amazing.’
‘It does.’ I swallow. ‘I didn’t want to sound you know, pushy, like OTT when we’ve only just …’
He laughs, then leans forward and kisses me. ‘Jane, we’ve known each other for ages. This isn’t a meet-cute that’s gone from bus stop to bed without stopping for refreshments.’
‘I know, it’s just we’ve known each other for ages as friends, and this is a bit …’
‘Unexpected?’
I shake my head. I want to be honest with him, and although it was slightly unexpected in that it actually happened in real life, I’d been living it over in my head for quite some time now. I think I’d been willing it to happen.
‘Out there?’
‘Yeah, it is a bit out there. It’s just I was trying to stop it happening Freddie.’
‘Stop it?’
‘Because we’ve been such good mates.’
‘And you didn’t want to spoil it?’
‘You got it.’ I really didn’t want to spoil it. Sex changes things, doesn’t it? ‘Freddie? Did Andy really ask you to look after me?’ Is that why he was on suicide watch when we first moved in together? Why he’s taken me to Brighton, taken me to bed? I swallow hard. I don’t want to believe Freddie would do that, I want to believe he looked after me because we’re mates. That what happened last night was because we’d both tumbled down the slippery slope of lust.
I want to believe in him, even if there isn’t an us.
But, right now, I’m feeling fragile. Great but maybe-wrong sex, followed by a run-in with the man you nearly married can mess with your head. Especially when you’ve not even had a cup of coffee.
‘Did he bugger! I hardly know him.’ Freddie looks hurt.
‘No, of course you don’t! Sorry.’ But I had to ask, just in case.
‘We weren’t exactly best buddies at school, were we? You heard him – I was geek boy, he was … Well, to be honest I thought he was a bit of a twat.’
‘You did?’
‘I did. And did he really care enough to ask anybody to look out for you after …’
‘Ouch.’ Point taken though.
‘When you ran out after Louie though, he did pat me on the back so hard I nearly fell down the stairs, then said,’ he puts on quite a good Andy voice now, ‘maybe you guys should cool it, give Jane some space to work things out.’ I try not to laugh when he does an Andy ha-ha mate at the end. ‘He said you were on the rebound, I wasn’t your type.’
‘The sod! Give me space! Why do I need space?’
‘That’s what I thought, but I reckoned I should mention it. In case you do want to take some time?’
The toast lies untouched between us. The melted butter starting to solidify in a not-nice way.
‘Freddie. I think I’ve had enough time, don’t you?’
He nods.
‘Andy’s a total knob.’
Freddie stirs his coffee. I just wrap my hands round my mug. Feeling awkward. Watching him but pretending not to.
I like him, I like him so much it hurts. And Andy isn’t right, but maybe I was. Maybe we should have just stayed friends.
‘Have we fucked everything up?’ He speaks abruptly.
‘I don’t think so …’ I keep my voice low, sneak my hand across the table closer to his. Him saying out loud the words I’ve been thinking makes up my mind, I don’t want this to mean we’ve messed up. ‘Do you?’
He wraps his firm, warm fingers round mine. ‘No.’ He leans forward, kisses the tip of my nose. ‘Definitely not.’ Then he kisses my lips, a firm smacker. ‘No way. How can anything that good be called ‘fucking up’?’
‘Shall I put new toast on? Start the day again?’ Louie brushes against my leg, then starts to clamber up, and looks very pleased when he reaches table level.
‘I’d love to, but—’
‘But?’ Here we go.
‘Rob rang while you were in the shower.’
‘Outer Hebrides Rob?’
‘The one and only. He’s broken his arm and asked if I could go up for a few days, help out a bit.’
‘Oh. You’re going to the Outer Hebrides?’
‘I am, if it’s okay?’
That’s weird, Freddie asking me if something is okay. That definitely shows we are now on a different, post shag, footing.
‘Well, yeah, yeah, sure, whatever. When?’ My heart does a bit of a wobble, along with my bottom lip. I never felt this, kind of, turned inside-out all of a quiver after a night with Andy. Just goes to show, doesn’t it, how wrong you can be when you think you’ve got it right?
‘I better get packing. I’ve got some code I need to debug, and I can do it from up there, and, well, I thought with the wedding you’d be busy, and I’d be in the way.’
‘You’ll never be in the way! Well, not unless you hog the bathroom like you did last week when I was dying for the loo and late for work.’
‘You’ll be okay?’
I nod. ‘I’ll miss you.’ I wanted him to be here, with me, at the wedding. I know now that I’m not going to need him to be there to catch me, that I’m not going to fall, but I just wanted him to be there. But I can’t say that. Not yet.
He kisses my nose. ‘I’ll miss you, too.’
‘Theoretical question?’
‘Fire away.’
‘If you knew a secret about your best friend,’ he nods to show he’s listening, ‘and decided not to tell them because it could upset them, and you thought it wasn’t really important any longer.’
‘Mm.’
‘And then you found out that some other people knew the secret, too, and you were scared that they might tell your best friend. Would you tell her first?’
Freddie smiles. Then drops a kiss on my lips. ‘Jane, whatever it is you think you need to tell Rach, you’ll know when the time is right. When you love somebody, you know.’ He shrugs.
‘What if I’m scared she’ll hate me?’
‘You’re not scared. You’ll do what’s right for her, not you.’
‘How will I cope with this crazy wedding without you?’ I’m on the verge of begging him to stay, but that could just send him running in the opposite direction. Crazy wedding, crazy woman.
‘You can always call me, text. And I’ll be back soon. It can’t get any crazier though!’
‘Thanks, Freddie.’
‘Welcome.’ He smiles. ‘You couldn’t give me a lift to the station, could you? In like, an hour?’
‘Sure, shit is that the time? Bugger, I forgot! I’m supposed to be going up for the final dress fitting. Oh, bugger, bugger, bugger.’ I dump the cups in the sink. ‘I need to go soon, now.’ I grab my car keys, check my purse is in my handbag and make a dash for my bedroom and make-up case. ‘Come on, come on, I can still drop you off.’
‘Stop.’ Freddie is in my way, hands on my shoulders. I have no option but to stop. He kisses me, a quick peck on the lips. ‘I’ll get a taxi, you get going.’
‘Are you sure, I mean I can drop you?’
‘I’m sure. What about Louie?’
‘I’ll be back later, he’ll be fine, won’t you?’ Louie stalks off, tail in the air. ‘Then Lora said she’d look after him any time, so it’ll be fine for the rehearsal and wedding when I have to stay over.’
‘You sure you don’t want to stay over at Rachel’s tonight?’
‘Positive.’
‘Good.’ I’m wriggling, but he’s holding firm, then he kisses me. This time it’s a proper, toe-curling kiss that makes me reach up for more. ‘Go on, go!’ He lets go abruptly.
‘Tease!’
‘Tease yourself, if you don’t go now I won’t be held responsible for my actions!’
I grab my handbag, slip my shoes on and leap into my car. Freddie is waving from the window as I drive off, little Louie in his arms.
I don’t stop smiling even when I get stuck in the mother of all hold-ups on the motorway.
Not until I turn into the car park near to the bridal shop.
Why has Freddie taken off so quickly? Did his mate really ring, like exactly then?
Of course, he did. I’m being totally stupid. Freddie wouldn’t lie to me, I trust him. And it’s not like we’re in a big relationship, we’ve had one shag.
Maybe he thought I meant it when I yelled at Andy that I didn’t need looking after. But I do. Just by the right person. I’ll ring him, just a very quick call.
There’s no answer.
I try again. And again. Just to be on the safe side.
So, I leave a cheery message hoping he has a good trip (Gawd, I’m beginning to sound like my mother. What kind of person wishes the guy they’ve just had incredibly hot sex with a ‘good trip’?). I need to delete it, but in my panic I don’t hit 1 for more options, I hit end call. Bugger. I hate voicemail. Who listens to them anyway? Hang on, that’s a valid point. He won’t ever listen to it. I will send a text, a cool text.
‘Too much, too much.’ I am so not cool. I stab at my screen, deleting some of the kisses but make one jab too many and off it goes. Bugger.
That was so over the top.
Now he’ll think I’m completely crazy, and he’ll be dying to escape (when he comes back), except he’ll be too nice to say so, and he won’t actually be able to escape unless he moves out. So not only have we ruined our friendship and will have to spend the rest of our lives, or at least the rest of the notice on the apartment, hating each other, I have completely ruined the chance of touching his lush body ever again.
Freddie is allergic to deep relationships. I know that. I have seen how he picks the wrong girls, just so that he can keep things light and have a reason not to get involved.
My mobile slips out of my fingers. Am I another ‘wrong girl’?
No. I refuse to believe that. What we had just as friends was far deeper and more meaningful than any of his flings that I’ve seen. And Freddie is not a user. Freddie looked after me when I was desperate, took me to Brighton to cheer me up. Gave a kitten a home.
It will all be fine, I’m just over reacting because of the Andy thing.
I take a deep breath.
I am fine. It is my new mantra. I can be cool and relaxed about this.
I try to call him again, just to make sure. He might want to talk to me.
There is still no answer. Fine.
Shit, not fine. I’ve seen the time, and now I’m not just a fashionable ‘nearly on time’, I’m a ‘this could have the bride-to-be in a panic’ ten minutes late.
Chapter 24
I slide to a stop outside the bridal shop, surreptitiously check armpits to make sure the lovely Debs is not going to refuse permission for me to try on my dress (though it is mine, so there must be some leeway), then throw the door open casually.
‘… and flame-throwers!’ Shouts Rachel.
I stop dead, and double check I’m in the right place, and also not hallucinating. I am, and I’m not. ‘Flame-throwers? Bloody hell, I’m only ten minutes late and you’re about to torch something!’
Rachel laughs. ‘You’re never going to believe this, Jane!’ She wraps me in a hug, then steps back. ‘Mikey has booked flame-throwers and thousands of white doves!’ She is jumping up and down on the spot and waving her hands about like a cheerleader.
I cackle. I can’t help it. It’s a bit like my hysterical reaction when she announced she was getting married. I couldn’t control the sound that just came out.
That comment has thrown me straight back to the moment when she told me where the wedding was going to be held. When the vision of the whole doves, thrones and Posh and Becks type thing had leapt into my head. ‘Sorry, God, I hope the two don’t get too close together?’
‘What?’ She looks puzzled, but Sally is laughing.
‘Ha-ha. Oh my God, flaming doves! It’ll be like having a flock of Phoenixes.’
‘They rise from the ashe
s, not get turned into them,’ says Maddie.
‘We’re ready for you!’ Debs is clapping for attention, and ushers Sally away towards the changing room.
I grab my phone. ‘You were wrong.’ I text Freddie. ‘This wedding has just got crazier!’ I add lots of doves and flame emoticons. Or at least I think they are, I’m always terrified of mistaking one for something else and sending a totally inappropriate one that will upset somebody. I might just have declared my love of barbecued duck.
‘Oh, bugger, sorry, I forgot my shoes!’ The beautiful satin shoes arrived a few days after we chose the dresses and are sitting in a box in my wardrobe. Miles away.
‘Borrow these!’ Debs smiles. ‘Size 5, isn’t it?’
‘I promise I won’t forget them on the day! It was just all a bit hectic, Andy came round and …’
‘Andy came round?’ Shrieks Rachel, Debs stops mid zipping-up, Maddie nearly falls over, as she’s in the middle of putting a shoe on, and Sal stares. Her mouth open. ‘Shit, you’re kidding?’ Rach leaps towards me, towing Debs with her, tripping up over Maddie’s other shoe and nearly landing on top of me. ‘To your place?’
‘Yep.’
‘When the hell were you going to tell me this!’
‘I am now.’ I steady her by the elbows. ‘It only just happened this morning.’
‘And?’
‘And.’ I shrug. ‘I realised what a knob he is.’ I really wish I could tell her about the look on his face when he saw Freddie, but I can’t. I can’t just blurt out what happened last night, can I? ‘He let Louie out!’
She giggles. ‘Oh, God, you must be so totally over him if you’re more bothered about the bloody cat.’ She high-fives me, laughing.
I try to look annoyed, but it’s hard. ‘He’s not a bloody cat, he’s my kitten. I love him, I’ll have you know.’
‘I know you do.’ She grins, I grin back.
‘I don’t want to rush you, girls, but dresses?’ Debs has shoes in one hand, my dress in the other and is looking flustered. She’s probably trying to rush us out before Beth and the projectile vomiting baby arrive.
This time when we line up in front of the mirror, it is different to the last time when we were hung-over, pale and pasty. This time we are not the cast from Shaun of the Dead, we look amazing. Even if I say so myself.
Bridesmaids: The funniest laugh out loud rom com of 2019 – the perfect beach read! Page 19
