In the early part of the year, I came very close to doing what Jodie had just suggested and telling Matt how I felt but, every time I saw an opportunity, I bottled it. At first, I worried that my feelings for Matt could be a rebound thing so it didn’t seem appropriate to broach the subject. When I was sure that I genuinely had fallen for him, I quickly talked myself out of saying anything because, let’s face it, he wasn’t available and, even though I didn’t like the woman, I couldn’t show such a lack of respect towards Libby.
There were several occasions during the year when Matt and Libby had major arguments and I found myself desperately hoping that one of those would signal the end of their relationship. I’d lost count of the number of times that Libby had stormed out and stayed the night with her best friend, Gina. Unfortunately for me, they always seemed to kiss and make up. They’d then go through a really good patch, suggesting to me that they were one of those couples who could ride out any storm and nothing would break them apart.
In early August, they had a huge bust-up over something to do with the house and Libby took off to Gina’s for a few days. It got really nasty and Jodie and I were convinced the end had finally arrived. I think it might actually have been over if it hadn’t been for Matt’s granddad having a massive stroke while out walking the dogs on the farm. His granddad died the following day and it seemed that the bereavement brought out Libby’s softer side because she’d rushed back to support Matt and his family. Since then, he’d mainly spoken positively about her. Instead of expecting (and hoping for) an announcement that they were over for good, I kept expecting (and dreading) an announcement that they’d set a date for their wedding.
‘I want you to do something for me,’ Jodie said. ‘When the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve – just over six weeks away – I want you to be either kissing Matt Richards or kissing goodbye to your little fantasies about him. Next year, you’re his new girlfriend, or you’re just his friend and will have come to terms with it never being anything more. What do you say? Do we have a deal?’
I leaned back in my chair and focused on a huge Christmas tree in the corner of the bar, behind Jodie, mesmerised for a moment by the twinkling blue lights. Matt had helped me put up the tree in the shop this year after Jodie reluctantly accepted that she had the flu and needed her bed. We’d giggled each time we reached for the same branch, our fingers touching. I found myself imagining that we were putting up a tree in our own home rather than the shop one, and had to make an excuse to check on Jodie before I started believing the dream and moved in for a kiss.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘You’re right. I can’t go on like this. It’s a deal.’
She reached out her hand and I shook it. ‘You’re doing the right thing.’
Was I? So why did I feel like I’d lost him? For me, the choices were to be as bad as BJ, which I absolutely couldn’t do, or to push him away because spending time with him as nothing more than friends was killing me.
22
When Jodie and I returned to the function room, the lights had been dimmed and a disco was in full swing. There’d been a balloon release and there must have been some confetti canons as shiny squares were scattered across the dance floor. The volume of excited chatter had significantly increased to compete with the music.
‘You could always tell him tonight,’ Jodie said, as we set off in search of our table, which had been moved aside to clear the dance floor.
I could. But I wasn’t going to. Although, if I had some Dutch courage inside me…
Too much to drink. Definitely too much to drink. I did some sort of hiccup giggle as the arm I’d been leaning on gave way and I managed to only just stop myself from face-planting the table.
‘Are you okay?’ Matt asked, reaching across to steady me.
‘Bit pissed,’ I muttered, hiccupping again.
‘You deserve to be. Tonight’s your night.’
I raised my wine glass as a toast to myself, then frowned when I realised it was empty. ‘Who drank that?’
Matt laughed. ‘You.’
‘I did not.’
‘You did too.’
He could be right. Might be why I was so drunk. Oh well, it was nearly the end of the evening. It wouldn’t be right to end it sober.
The DJ announced that he was going to slow things down for the last few songs, starting with a track from the early noughties.
‘Aw, I absolutely love this song,’ I gushed as I recognised one of my all-time favourite ballads: ‘If You’re Not the One’ by Daniel Bedingfield. It came out when Jodie and I were at college and we’d sit in my bedroom playing the video on repeat as we both had a massive crush on Daniel Bedingfield.
‘Do you love it?’ I asked Matt.
He held my gaze and for that brief moment, it felt as though there was only the two of us in the room. The music and chatter seemed to fade away as I lost myself in his dark eyes.
‘Yes, I do,’ he responded, his voice hoarse.
I dared to imagine that he wasn’t referring to the song and he meant he loved me instead but, even in my inebriated state, I knew it was wishful thinking.
He cleared his throat, stood up and held his hand out towards me. ‘Do you want to dance?’
I widened my eyes. ‘With you?’
‘No, with the woman in the red dress over there. Of course with me.’ Although the words were humorous, his expression was earnest.
Feeling suddenly very sober, I placed my hand in his, my heart racing as he led me onto the dance floor.
We’d hugged on countless occasions and, while the close contact always left me a little flushed and breathless, nothing had prepared me for the overwhelming sensation of being held against Matt’s chest while we slowly moved to the rhythm.
The lyrics could have been written for me. ‘Unrequited love,’ I muttered.
‘What’s that?’
‘This song’s about unrequited love. Story of my life.’
I felt Matt’s body tense against mine. ‘He wasn’t worth it,’ he muttered.
‘Who wasn’t?’
‘Ricky. That’s who you’re talking about, isn’t it?’
What could I say? No, Matt, I’m talking about you. I couldn’t do that to him. But if I simply answered ‘no’, then the obvious question was to ask who I was referring to and how could I respond to that? So I remained silent while we shuffled to another verse, every word dripping with poignancy. I desperately wanted to share how I felt, to hold him tighter, to feel his lips against mine and I needed to push those thoughts away before I acted on them. Focus on his fiancée. Remember his dad and brother are here. So are your staff and friends and traders and you don’t want any of them to witness you making a move on an engaged man because that’s not the sort of person you are. Libby. Ask him about Libby.
‘So what was Libby doing tonight?’
‘Big night out with Gina and the girls from work to celebrate Gina’s divorce. They’re all dressed as nurses for some reason.’
‘Sounds like fun.’
‘Sounds like carnage,’ he said. ‘He was Gina’s first and only boyfriend and, from what Libby tells me, she’s making up for the lack of experience. She was up to double figures within three months of them splitting up. I always thought Gina was pretty sensible, but I think she’s regressed to her teens.’
We shuffled in silence again.
‘Have you heard from Ricky lately?’ Matt asked.
‘No, thank God, although Smurf came into the shop last weekend and said that Ricky and BJ had split up.’
‘Again?’
‘I know. Must be, what, third or fourth time? But Smurf thinks it’s for good this time although there were kids in the shop so he said he couldn’t go into the details. I’m assuming one or both of them have been up to no good.’
‘As long as he doesn’t come sniffing round you again.’
The words were out before I could stop them: ‘Would it bother you if he did?’
He pulled me a
little closer and his voice came out all husky like before. ‘Of course it would.’
I held my breath as my heart thumped faster and faster. ‘Why?’
Silence.
I stepped back and looked up into his eyes. ‘Why would it bother you?’ I asked again.
He visibly gulped, his eyes fixed on mine, and I was sure he was going to say something meaningful but the track ended and my stomach sank at the track that started playing next: the song Libby wanted for their first dance at their wedding.
Matt glanced towards the DJ, a frown creasing his forehead, then he looked back down at me and smiled as he released his hold on me. ‘Because you’re my friend and I wouldn’t want to see that tosser hurt you again.’
Friends. Yes, that’s all we were. I was going to have to spend New Year kissing goodbye to my fantasies about Matt because there was no way I’d be kissing him for real.
23
It was inevitable, really. Deep down, I’d known it would happen as soon as Smurf told me that Ricky had split up with BJ yet again.
‘Charlee! How are you? You look amazing.’
I dropped the shop keys in my handbag and looked him up and down. I wished I could return the compliment but he looked terrible. Perhaps it was the gloomy night doing him no favours, casting dark shadows across his face. ‘What do you want, Ricky?’
‘Don’t I even get a “hello”?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Hello. So what do you want?’
‘To take the winner of Best Newcomer out for a drink to celebrate her amazing success.’
‘You heard about it then?’
He nodded. ‘It was on Bay Radio this morning. I’m so proud of you, Charlee.’
‘You’re not my boyfriend anymore and you haven’t been for a long time. You don’t get to be proud of me.’
‘Aw, don’t be like that. I still care about you.’
I set off walking.
‘Charlee!’ Ricky ran after me. ‘Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. Can I buy you a drink? Please.’
I spun round to face him. ‘Why?’
‘Because I owe you an apology. What I did to you last year was out of order and I never said sorry.’
‘You’ve just said it so you can ease your conscience and I can go home for my dinner.’
‘One drink. Please, Charlee.’
Although going out for a drink with Ricky wasn’t a remotely appealing way to spend the evening, neither was going back to an empty flat to eat a ready meal for one. Jodie had gone to Bradford for the day to celebrate her great grandma’s ninety-seventh birthday and wouldn’t be back till late. Sod it. I was curious to hear his excuses. He’d texted me, emailed me and phoned me intermittently over the past year, but I’d ignored his calls, and deleted all his messages without reading them.
‘One drink. But that’s it. I mean it.’
‘A pint and a large glass of Merlot,’ Ricky said to the barmaid in The Purple Lobster.
I gazed round the pub while we waited, already regretting agreeing to a drink. Someone could have done with a serious lesson in Christmas decorating. It looked like there’d been an explosion in a tinsel factory with gaudy foil garlands and baubles that had seen better days randomly strung across the ceiling, walls, and the bar.
The server told him the price as she placed the drinks on the bar towel.
Ricky patted his pockets and shot me a stricken look. I rolled my eyes. ‘Really?’
‘Sorry.’
With a sigh, I handed over a note, seething inside as I waited for the change. I’d walked into that one.
‘Cheers,’ he said, as we sat down. I didn’t feel like reciprocating it. Instead, I took a good look at him. It hadn’t just been the bad light; he genuinely did look like crap. He’d grown out his buzzcut and his hair was now messy and curling up on the collar of his T-shirt. He needed a good shave and his rumpled clothes looked like they’d been fished out of the bottom of the laundry basket. Unlike Matt, he couldn’t carry off the long hair and designer beard thing; it aged him about thirty years.
‘Do you remember the last time we came here?’ Ricky asked, looking round and nodding.
‘Not especially.’
‘You must do. It was a great night.’
I sipped on my wine then sighed. ‘For you, it probably was. You’ll have spent the night flirting with BJ. You probably went out the back for a quickie while your unsuspecting girlfriend here was being ignored by most of your friends and wishing she wasn’t there.’
Ricky looked a little shocked. ‘It wasn’t that bad, was it?’
‘Why do you think I only came out with you all twice?’
‘Sorry, I didn’t realise.’
‘No, you wouldn’t. Because, as I’ve already said, you spent all night flirting with BJ although, at the time, I had no idea you were shagging your best mate’s girlfriend behind our backs.’
‘I’m sorry about what we did to you. I don’t know what I was thinking.’
I shrugged. ‘Really? Because, from the video, I thought it was pretty obvious what you were thinking both then and the umpteen times before that when the pair of you conveniently forgot you already had partners.’
He winced at my sarcasm. ‘I deserved that. It’s over with BJ, you know. For good.’
‘So Smurf tells me.’
‘You’ve been seeing Smurf?’ His eyes flashed.
‘Oh for God’s sake, don’t start that jealousy crap again,’ I snapped, incensed that he had the audacity to be jealous after what he’d done. ‘Smurf and I are friends. In fact, we’re not even that. Acquaintances. He comes into the shop for some chocolates every so often and, last time, he mentioned it was over.’
‘I dumped her.’
‘I’m not interested in who dumped whom.’
Ricky either didn’t hear me or chose to ignore me. ‘You know the bloke from the takeaway who posted the video?’
‘Not personally.’
‘He recognised BJ in the pub one night and asked her if she’d re-enact the video with him. She was pissed off with me because I said I couldn’t afford to take her to Paris for her birthday, so she agreed.’
‘Not in Dice Pizza again?’
‘No. She’s not that stupid. We’re still struggling with the aftermath from that.’ His shoulders slumped. ‘It didn’t go viral this time but it did make it back to me.’
The aftermath Ricky had referred to went much further than Smurf and me finding out and ending the relationships. When the video went viral, the story was picked up by the tabloids and the ‘amorous couple’ were identified. Ricky’s employers didn’t appreciate him bringing the company’s name into disrepute so he was given his marching orders. The owners of Dice Pizza hadn’t appreciated the undesirable publicity either and alerted the police. Ricky and BJ were arrested and charged with ‘outraging public decency contrary to common law’. They were lucky to avoid a prison sentence, getting off with a caution, a fine and community service.
The pained look in Ricky’s eyes and his deflated demeanour suggested he was devastated at the break-up with BJ and I felt a flicker of empathy towards him, accompanied by a moment of smug satisfaction. That saying about having a taste of your own medicine had never been more appropriate.
‘I suppose you think it serves me right,’ he said, as though reading my thoughts.
‘I’d be lying if the word “karma” didn’t spring to mind. I’m sorry, though, because I know it hurts. What happens now?’
‘I’m back at my mum’s, sleeping on the sofa. She says I can’t have my bedroom back unless I pay rent but work’s erratic. Did you know I got sacked?’
‘Smurf told me.’ He said Ricky had done a mixture of labouring and private work since then but nobody would give him a decent opportunity. I’d initially felt sorry for him but had reminded myself that he hadn’t just been having sex with BJ the whole time we’d been living in Whitsborough Bay – which would have been bad enough – but he’d been seeing her while pretending to
be the doting boyfriend supporting me through Nanna’s prognosis and subsequent death. I didn’t feel quite so sorry for him after that.
‘I can’t find any work,’ he continued. ‘I’ve still got my court fine to pay and my debts from before. Mum’s not charging me for food but she says I have to move out after Christmas because her boyfriend says I’m cramping their style. I was wondering…’
‘No,’ I said firmly.
‘You don’t know what I was going to say.’
‘Yes I do. You were going to ask if you could move back in with me and the answer’s no.’
‘I miss you, Charlee. I still love you.’
I glared at him. How dare he? How dare he come crawling back to me after everything he’d done, turn on the puppy dog eyes, spin me a sad story about his life falling apart, and declare his undying devotion when I believed without a shadow of a doubt that he’d never loved me in the first place?
‘Don’t spout crap you don’t mean, Ricky.’
‘But I do mean it! I know I hurt you, but I’d never do that again. We were good together.’
He reached across the table to take my hand but I snatched it away. I knew this had been a mistake.
‘“Were” being the operative word,’ I hissed at him, jumping to my feet.
‘Come on, Charlee. It could be good again. The sex was amazing. We don’t have to have a full-on relationship if you don’t want. We could be friends with benefits.’
Oh. My. God! I yanked my coat back on. ‘Enjoy your drink. You can have mine too if you want.’
Ricky stood up too. ‘Please don’t go.’
‘What possible reason is there for me to stay?’ I started counting off the negatives on my fingers. ‘You beg me to join you for a drink but then I have to pay for it. You ask if you can move back in with me because your own mother is kicking you out. You want to sleep with me again but really the offer’s for an open relationship which is clearly how you like it. I guarantee the next step is to ask me for some money.’ The guilty expression on his face answered that one for me. ‘I’ve been single since we split up and I admit that I do miss having someone in my life, but I would rather stay single forever than have you back. I loved you and you lied to me. I trusted you and you let me down. I don’t love you now and I don’t trust you now. And I’m certain that you never loved me.’
Christmas Wishes at the Chocolate Shop Page 16
