by Jill Mansell
And she hadn’t.
That first lightning bolt of lust on the hard shoulder of the M4 had fizzled and faded. You couldn’t make a spark happen if it was no longer there.
A box of matches, Suzy thought sadly, that’s what I feel like. A box of matches that’s been left out in the rain.
And the saddest thing of all was she knew why it had happened.
Harry was too keen.
It was as simple—and ridiculous—as that.
Sensing that she wasn’t really paying attention to the EastEnders update, Lucille said, “He really likes you, you know. I haven’t known Harry this keen for years. Not since…”
Oh Lord, Suzy thought.
Alarmed, she said, “Don’t say Sophia.”
Lucille gave her a what-can-I-tell-you look. “Sorry, but it’s true. He’s really smitten.”
Not wanting to hear any more, Suzy rolled over onto her front, picked up the remote control, and aimed it at the television. When you were crazy about someone, there was nothing better in the world than being told they were crazy about you too.
But when you weren’t, all you felt was slightly sick.
I’ll have to break up with him, she decided. It’s the only decent thing to do. And the sooner the better. Dragging it out just isn’t fair to Harry. I’ll be doing him a favor.
Oh dear, it all sounded horribly reminiscent of having your dog put down. Feeling terrible for even thinking it, Suzy glanced guiltily across at Baxter, sprawled on the cobalt-blue rug in front of the fire. He returned her gaze without flinching, one hairy eyebrow raised in a quizzical “So you’d have me put down, would you?” fashion.
“Oh,” exclaimed Lucille, “I forgot to tell you about the ad I put up in the convenience store window. I’ve had three more phone calls this evening from people wanting me to exercise their dogs. Isn’t that great?”
Suzy, still busy wondering how she was going to go about breaking up with Harry, said, “Brilliant! I’ll buy you one of those grass sleds for your birthday. You can take it up to Ashton Court park, harness hundreds of dogs to it, and let them pull you for miles. Think of all the exercise it’ll save, not to mention the money you’ll make.”
“Speaking of birthdays,” said Lucille, “it’s Harry’s next week. Did he tell you?”
“What? Oh…yes, yes he did.” Of course he had, Suzy remembered. It was on the seventeenth, exactly a week from today. And thank goodness Lucille had reminded her.
Like the feeling you get when you realize you have a genuine reason to cancel that dreaded visit to the dentist, Suzy experienced a surge of guilt mingled with relief. That was OK then; she couldn’t possibly break up with Harry so close to his birthday—that would be a really rotten thing to do.
So—phew—she could stop worrying about it for now.
He was working nights for the rest of this week, Suzy told herself, so it wasn’t as if they’d see that much of each other anyway. No, all she had to do was treat Harry to dinner somewhere nice next Tuesday evening, buy him a funny card, and pick out a present. Nothing too extravagant, that might build his hopes up. Then again, nothing stingy either, because that would be too mean for words. Just something neutral. Like a nice sweater.
Then, a couple of days later, she could casually ease herself away…
* * *
Arriving home from work the following Monday, Suzy spotted a tall, familiar figure leaning against a car parked outside her house.
Correction: leaning against a grubby gray Volvo.
“Look!” Glancing over her shoulder, Suzy alerted her backseat passenger to the situation. “Look who’s here!”
Baxter, his vast head stuck through the open window, was grinning his manic Jack Nicholson grin and letting his ears billow in the breeze behind him. When he saw who Suzy was pointing out, he let out a yodeling howl of joy and did his level best to squeeze the rest of his 150-pound body through the seven-inch gap.
Hoping her face wasn’t too end-of-the-day shiny, Suzy pulled up behind the Volvo and reached behind her to open the rear door. Whimpering with impatience, Baxter exploded out of the car at last and hurled himself besottedly at Leo.
Suzy, emerging at a more leisurely pace from the driver’s seat, lifted up her sunglasses and slowly smiled at Leo from under them. She’d seen Diana Dors do this in a movie once. Jolly effective.
Provided, of course, you didn’t have a shiny face.
“Well, he certainly seems to like you,” she told Leo.
“Cupboard love. He can smell the potato chips.” Leo took a small bag out of his shirt pocket. Ecstatically, Baxter guzzled the contents in one go. “Oh well, tracked him down at last.” As he rubbed Baxter’s ears, Leo explained, “The flight landed at Heathrow at three o’clock. I drove back here, went straight over to Lucille’s place to pick up Baxter…and got an earful of extremely colorful abuse from her landlord.”
“Oh, what a shame,” said Suzy. “So he’s still alive, then.”
Leo said, “After that, I called Harry. He told me Lucille was staying here with you.”
“That’s right.”
“And you took Baxter in as well. Good of you.” He frowned. “But I’ve been ringing the doorbell and no one’s in. Where’s Lucille, and why is Baxter with you?”
It was the first time Suzy had seen him in daylight. And considering he had come directly from the airport following a transatlantic flight, Leo was looking unfairly good. His white polo shirt and faded Levi’s were creased, of course—how could they not be?—but his tanned face glowed with health and his dark blue eyes, which crinkled at the corners whenever he smiled, were bright and alert. He had sportsman’s eyes, Suzy decided. They didn’t miss a thing. Even more unfairly, although he wasn’t wearing mascara and she was—loads of it, actually—his eyelashes still managed to be longer and thicker than hers.
He had sportsman’s stubble too, she observed. Funny how it could look so unappealing on a girl’s legs yet so gorgeous on a man’s chin.
Now where was the justice in that?
“Lucille’s got herself loads more dog-walking business,” she told Leo. “She’s taken a gang of salukis to the Downs for a six-mile run. I said Baxter could spend the afternoon with me in the office. We’ve become excellent friends—he adores the backseat of my car.”
Oops, provocative remark. Suzy held her breath, waiting for Leo to raise an amused eyebrow and drawl, “Who wouldn’t?”
When he didn’t, she couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved that he wasn’t that tacky.
Instead, checking his watch, Leo said, “Will Lucille be gone for long?”
“Should be back any minute now.” Suzy waved her keys at him. “Come in for a drink.”
The hot afternoon sun had streamed in through the closed south-facing windows, turning the apartment into a furnace. Having flung open the windows, they moved out onto the wrought iron balcony overlooking the back garden. Suzy brought out two tumblers, a jug of mineral water with lime slices and ice cubes bobbing on the top, and a couple of dog chews for Baxter.
It was a bit of a bugger, Leo being spoken for. She hadn’t meant to think this, but the thought kept popping—practically of its own accord—into her head. Then again, thought Suzy, maybe it was just as well, especially if Harry’s still a touch sensitive about having his girlfriends decide that, actually, they prefer his older brother.
In an attempt to move on to more neutral ground, she started asking him about his trip to New York.
Within minutes, Leo said gently, “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” Suzy felt herself going pink.
“You know what. I’ve told you before. Don’t mess Harry about.”
Damn, thought Suzy, it had happened again. She’d been flirting with Leo without even realizing she was doing it.
Still, he could have been more t
actful; no need to make such a drama out of the situation. Pointing it out like that was hardly chivalrous.
Stung, she said, “Guilty conscience?”
Leo’s dark blue eyes narrowed. “What?”
“Harry told me,” said Suzy. “About you and Sophia.”
Was it her imagination or did the tension in his shoulders subside? There was a long pause, then Leo said, “Thought he might. Well, maybe you’re right.”
“Maybe? Come on,” she chided. “You ran off with his girlfriend. Then you dumped her and she killed herself. I mean, you can understand why he was upset with you.”
Slowly, Leo’s gaze ran over Suzy, taking in the tight, white, scoop-necked T-shirt and pink skirt, her bare brown feet propped up on the balcony rail, and the expensive sunglasses pushed up on top of her head, keeping the tumbling tawny mane of hair off her tanned face.
Nothing escaped his notice.
Finally, he said, “And maybe you can understand why I don’t want you to upset him.”
The cheek of it, Suzy thought indignantly. You’re the one who screwed Harry up in the first place, and now I’m the one being made to suffer for it. Men, honestly. They were enough to make you want to spit.
Except she mustn’t spit at Leo. Mustn’t lose her temper either. I have to be lovely and charming and nice, thought Suzy, fishing a slice of lime out of her glass and biting into it so hard all her salivary glands went eek and shriveled up in shock.
Oh no, she had to be nice to Leo. Because he was a potential client, and she very much wanted to sell him a house…any house, but especially her mother’s.
And you didn’t persuade people to buy a property worth hundreds of thousands of pounds by antagonizing them.
Nor, in this case, by flirting with them.
Even by accident.
“Anyway.” Brightly, Suzy changed the subject. “I gather congratulations are in order. You’re soon to become a father!”
This had the desired effect. Leo’s eyebrows shot up, and he almost choked on his drink.
“What?”
Flicking her slice of lime over the balcony into the garden below, Suzy waited politely for him to finish spluttering.
“Gabriella, isn’t that her name? You didn’t tell me you were getting married! According to Lucille, your future wife wants loads of children.”
The doorbell rang before Leo could reply. Downstairs, Suzy found Harry on the doorstep in uniform. His patrol car was parked by the front gate.
“Oh God, you haven’t come to arrest me again, have you, Officer?” She said it loud enough to be heard by the two elderly spinster types tottering past, their expressions rigid with disapproval.
“Only if you’ve been very, very naughty,” Harry informed her, equally loud and with a broad grin on his face. Oh dear, it was at moments like this that she remembered why she’d been attracted to him in the first place. There were no two ways about it: he was funny, and he was definitely gorgeous. Why, Suzy thought frustratedly, why can’t that be enough?
“Leo’s here.”
“I know. He called me, remember? Thought I’d just drop by to see how everyone is.”
Just drop by to make sure I’m not having torrid sex on the kitchen table with your brother, thought Suzy. She watched another car pull up, farther along the road.
Amazed, she said, “Blimey, it’s Julia.”
“I called into the office,” Julia announced, coming straight to the point as usual. “Rory told me about that girl moving in with you. For heaven’s sake, are you out of your tiny mind?”
Chapter 16
Following her elder sister up the staircase, Suzy said, “That girl? You mean Lucille? She’s my sister, Julia. Our sister. Why shouldn’t she stay with me?”
“You know nothing about her, that’s why. She could be all kinds of trouble! And what’s that police car doing right outside the house? What are the neighbors going to think?”
Harry had gone on ahead while Suzy waited on the doorstep for Julia. Now, watching Julia’s stilettos go clickety-clack up the stairs—heavens, her legs were thin—Suzy said, “Jaz and Celeste are away on vacation. And the Fraser-Harts are at work. Lucille isn’t going to smash up the apartment and make off with my TV, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“You hope,” Julia replied, her tone grim. She entered the sitting room and stared without enthusiasm at its occupants.
“You remember Harry,” said Suzy. “Lucille’s friend. You met him at—”
“I know where I met him,” Julia snapped.
“And this is Leo, his brother. Leo, this is my sister, Julia. Oh, and this is Baxter, Leo’s dog. He’s been staying with us for a few—no, Baxter, get down. Don’t…”
“Aaargh!” screamed Julia, flattening herself against the wall. Entranced by this new game, Baxter leaped up and rested his front paws on her shoulders. All they needed now was some music, and they could dance.
“Get him off my shirt!” Julia squealed. “It cost ninety five pounds—oh my God, if he licks my face I shall be sick.”
Clearly working hard to keep a straight face, Leo came to the rescue. When order had at last been restored, Suzy said apologetically, “Julia isn’t crazy about dogs.”
“I’m not crazy about a lot of things.” Never afraid to speak her mind, Julia straightened her shirt and gazed pointedly at Harry and Leo. She turned to Suzy. “Can’t you see what’s happening here? First the girl, then her friend turns up”—Julia gestured dismissively at Harry—“then we get the friend’s brother, not to mention the friend’s brother’s dog… It’s just absurd! Before you know it you’ll have poor relations stacked up like refugees in every room.”
At this, Leo raised an eyebrow. Harry reached for the jug of iced water and said, “Does anyone else want another drink?”
Suzy, hearing a faint click, said firmly, “Julia, don’t do this—”
“I came here to talk some sense into you.” Julia held up her arm like a traffic cop. “And you’re jolly well going to hear me out! It’s bad enough that this girl’s crawled out of the woodwork, but you can’t let her take over your life. Just get Mum’s house sold, pay her off, and get rid of her.”
“Julia—”
“Or the next thing you know,” said Julia, “she’ll be demanding a share of the business.”
Behind her, framed in the doorway, Lucille said, “For your information, I want nothing from the business.”
Julia swung around, unrepentant.
“And for your information,” she mimicked icily, “I don’t believe a word you say. As far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing but a leech, hell-bent on destroying us—and I’m not going to let it happen.”
“Out,” said Suzy, gesturing for Lucille to move out of the way and steering Julia forcibly toward the door. “Out, out, out.”
“She’s the one you should be saying that to,” Julia hissed, “not me.”
“By the way,” Leo announced, gazing steadily at her, “I’m thinking about it.”
Julia’s lip curled at the sight of him in his crumpled clothes, with his faintly insolent smile and sixteen hours’ worth of stubble on his face. She loathed stubble, it was so working class. She loathed it almost as much as she loathed men who couldn’t be bothered to iron their shirts.
“You’re thinking of leaving?” she sneered. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
“Actually,” Leo said mildly, “I meant I’m thinking of buying your mother’s house.”
* * *
“That took the wind out of her sails,” said Suzy, gazing out of the front window and watching Julia stomp furiously back to her car.
“She really hates me.” Lucille sighed. “Maybe I should move out.”
Suzy looked at her in surprise.
“She really hates lots of people. Don’t let it worry you.”<
br />
Lucille, clearly troubled, shook her head. “You can’t expect me to just ignore her.”
“Listen, you’re new to this sister business.” Patiently, Suzy explained. “I’ve had years of practice. The thing about sisters is you don’t have to be polite to them, you can ignore them, and you never, ever, ever let them upset you. If they do,” she went on, reminiscing happily, “you can always creep into their bedroom at night and cut off their bangs.”
At this, Lucille had to smile.
“You’re my sister. Does that mean I’m allowed to do that to you?”
“Ah. Not unless you want to wake up the next morning with an indelible-ink mustache.”
Harry’s walkie-talkie crackled into life as Leo and Baxter left.
“I have to go too,” he told Suzy with regret.
At the bottom of the staircase he kissed her.
“I love you, you know.”
Oh, help…
“No, you don’t,” Suzy assured him. “You just want to sleep with me.”
“Well, that too.” Harry grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“Did I mention it was my birthday?”
“Only about thirty-five times.”
“Shall I tell you what I’d really like as a present?”
He looked so gorgeous in his uniform. Almost irresistible.
Almost.
“How about a calendar?” said Suzy, pulling open the front door. “Then you’ll be able to work out when those six weeks are up.”
Oh dear, was it mean, saying that? By then she would be long gone. It was like a judge promising a prisoner that when his case came up next month, he wouldn’t send him to the gallows, safe in the knowledge that he was actually retiring next week.
Except it wasn’t like that at all, Suzy consoled herself. Of course it wasn’t. Harry would get over her in no time. There were hundreds of pretty girls in Bristol who would be only too happy to have sex with him.
More than only too happy.
After all, when you fancy a Mars bar and the shop’s sold out, you don’t have a nervous breakdown about it, do you?
