Joseph wasn’t the only reason she was in turmoil, however. Penny’s news about Alex had also knocked her for six. She had described how down at heel he had looked, how dejected, which wasn’t like him at all. Maybe he really was feeling terrible about Sarah-Jane.
She wondered again if she had been too hasty in leaving Brighton. Perhaps she should have given him a chance to explain. Then again, explain what? If he could do such a thing once—and she presumed it had only been the once—what was to stop him doing it again? He was away on business so much, she would perpetually wonder just what sort of business he was away on. Because of his good looks, his charm, and his status, he was never short of admirers; she had witnessed that many times over the years. He could take his pick of the bunch, which was why she couldn’t believe it when finally he had noticed her after several years of stopping only briefly at her desk to push papers at her before rushing off to some meeting or other. She had been elated.
Whomever Alex dallied with, it never lasted long. Having reached the almost-year mark with him therefore had given her reason to think he was as serious about her as she was about him. And maybe he was, maybe he did love her, after all. Perhaps Sarah-Jane was just a blip. But what about Joseph? Where had those feelings come from? Feelings she had never experienced with Alex before, feelings she had never known existed. If she were so in love with Alex, how was it possible to feel that way, albeit briefly, with another man? It didn’t make sense.
She pressed her palms to her eyes and rubbed hard as though trying to erase the contents of her mind. Enough, she told herself. A few days ago everything had been crystal clear: she was busy suffering from a broken heart courtesy of Alex Kline. She wanted him; he didn’t want her, simple. Now, not only was Alex apparently regretting the end of their affair, but Joseph was involved too, stirring up several kinds of chaos within her.
Struggling to come to grips with the situation, she reminded herself yet again that Joseph was just a friend, and a friend he would stay—fingers crossed. If Alex did find her, which was doubtful, she would give him what for, the memory of that hateful Post-It note indelible in her mind. If he turned up on her doorstep, she would tell him to turn right back round again and be on his way—but would she? Would she really?
Graduating from sitting head-in-hand to pacing the room, she finally forced herself to come to a stop. She had a plan of action, and she would stick to it. Tonight she would apologize to Joseph, and that would put an end to that. Alex and his philandering ways, meanwhile, could go to hell.
“Penny, get out of the bath!” she yelled, any lingering vestige of patience deserting her.
“All right, all right. No need to shout,” said Penny, choosing that exact minute to emerge from within, a pink fluffy towel wrapped round her and a big grin on her face.
Penny made a great show of peering at the clock as she walked into the bedroom. “Oh, Layla, look at the time. Don’t be long, will you? I don’t want to be late.”
Making a strangling gesture with her hands, Layla took her turn in the bathroom, silently thankful that Penny was there to lighten the mood.
It was Jim who opened the door to them, greeting them enthusiastically. “And you must be Penny,” he said, enfolding her in a hug.
“Well deduced,” said Penny, flashing her best smile at him upon release.
“Hey, Layla.” This time it was Hannah, beckoning them down the hallway and into the already packed kitchen. From the living room, ambient music filled the air.
“You look amazing,” Layla said to Hannah, and indeed she did, clad in a colorful tie-dyed dress that barely covered the essentials but did show off her figure—petite and voluptuous—to perfection.
Sworn off flirty dresses forever, Layla was back in her uniform: an old but comfortable pair of jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and boots. Her hair was swept up in a scruffy bun, and her makeup barely there. Penny had raised an eyebrow at her appearance, but then again, Layla had done the same to her. Looking like a reject from a punk rock band, Penny was clad in black jeans, skin-tight to say the least, a pair of black high-heeled lace-up boots that ended just below her knee, and a clingy blouse emblazoned with a sequin-encrusted skulls and crossbones. Her blond hair was backcombed for that “wild child” look, and her eyes were dark and dramatic, lined with liquid eyeliner and lashings of mascara.
“Hannah, this is Penny. Penny, this is Hannah.”
“Hi.” Hannah extended her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“All good, I hope. But then again, not too good—that would be misleading,” Penny replied with a laugh.
Penny and Hannah continued chatting while Layla scanned the room to see where Joseph was. There were various people gossiping and drinking, including Mick holding court with one of his famous “peril at sea” stories, but Joseph was nowhere to be seen.
Desperate to get her apology over and done with so she could start enjoying herself, she decided to leave Penny in Hannah’s capable hands and go search the living room. Although well proportioned, it looked small because of the amount of people packed into it. Usually, it was minimal in style, with a huge white sofa for lolling about on, a stereo for Jim’s impressive vinyl collection—he preferred them to CDs—and a large flat screen TV, monopolized for Hannah’s soap operas. The smell of oil paints often hung in the air, and Hannah’s own pictures, when you could see them, lent color to the walls. She looked toward the French doors, noticing they were open with people spilling out into the night.
Layla quickly made her way toward them. Perhaps he was outside. Before she could reach them, however, she was spun round. Not by Joseph, unfortunately, but by Mick. He must have followed her in from the kitchen.
“Hey, Layla,” he yelled above the noise. “Good to see you.”
Knowing she couldn’t just cut and run, continue her desperate search, she stayed and talked with him, unable to see much of anything past his broad frame. After what seemed like an age, she pleaded a need to go and check on Penny. Luckily Mick didn’t seem to mind, turning his attentions to a group of people standing close by.
Alone again, she continued looking, peering through the thick sea of shoulders and heads. At last she spotted him. Not outside as she had previously thought, but leaning up against the far corner of the living room wall, a bottle of Bud in hand, and chatting to a man she’d never seen before. Unexpectedly, she felt her breath catch in her throat. The other man, who was about average height with a hooked nose and skinny frame, seemed like a prop, set in place solely to highlight the golden good looks of his counterpart.
Steeling herself, she placed one foot in front of the other, willing herself on and on until she stood before him. At her arrival, the other man looked inquiringly at her.
“Hi, I’m Dave,” he said affably.
“Oh, hi, I’m Layla,” she replied, looking from Dave to Joseph, who had no such smile of welcome on his face. Taking a deep breath, she said to Dave, “Is it possible to have a few words with Joseph, please?”
“Sure,” he replied, standing stock still.
“Um, I meant in private.”
“Oh, right, yeah, of course,” he flustered, finally getting the message. “Gotta catch up with a few of the others anyway.”
To Joseph, he said, “See you soon,” before disappearing into the crowd.
Joseph nodded at him before turning his attention back to Layla, his face still distinctly unwelcome.
“Sorry to interrupt you,” she began.
“What did you want?”
Thrown by his somewhat blunt manner, she continued nonetheless. “I wanted to say sorry. You know, about yesterday.”
“Okay,” he replied, expectant.
Quickly she endeavored to recall her avidly rehearsed speech. Not one word of it had the good grace to come to mind.
“Erm,” she began after a moment. “Erm, I was a bit taken aback. Yesterday, I mean. Seeing you so soon after we’d…erm, after we’d…”
“Made love?”
he finished for her, a definite challenge in his voice.
Just as her breath had unexpectedly caught in her throat earlier, her stomach somersaulted at his choice of words. She hadn’t thought of what they’d done in those terms, but yes, she supposed he had a point. They had made love. It wasn’t just sex. “Just sex” never felt that good.
Feeling the heat start in her toes, creep up her legs, and reach her upper torso before it suffused her face entirely, she spluttered, “Yes, that’s it. That’s exactly what I was going to say. I don’t know why I acted the way I did, really I don’t. I’ve never behaved that way before. So stupidly, I mean. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I won’t do it again. Can we just put it all behind us and move on?”
His reaction to her babble of words, kind or otherwise, was lost, because at that moment Penny appeared, pointing at Joseph and yelling, “Joseph? You must be Joseph. Layla never stops talking about you!”
“Penny,” hissed Layla, mortified.
Lurching forward, Penny grabbed Joseph’s hand in hers and shook it enthusiastically. “I am so pleased to meet you. I’m Penny, by the way, but I expect you’d guessed that.”
Although annoyed that Penny had interrupted her at such a critical moment, Layla took small comfort in the fact that Joseph’s infuriatingly cool demeanor had, at last, been broken.
“Er, hi, Penny,” he said, closely resembling a rabbit caught in the headlights. “Nice to meet you too.”
Layla noticed an attempt on Joseph’s part to extract his hand from Penny’s vice-like grip, but she was having none of it. She held firm, stopping just short of a wolf whistle as she looked him up and down.
“Yep, you’re quite a looker. Layla said you were.”
At this point, Penny gave Joseph a knowing wink, and if Layla hadn’t quite wished the ground would open up and swallow her before, she did now.
“I said no such thing,” she protested.
“You did too, and you know it.” Penny chuckled, finally letting go of Joseph’s hand but only so she could link arms with him instead.
“Come on,” she whispered in his ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
At that, Penny yanked him through the French doors, leaving Layla staring open-mouthed after them.
“That was quite an introduction,” Hannah said, materializing out of nowhere, a similar look of shock on her face. “Penny’s very, erm, effervescent, isn’t she?”
“She can be.” Layla was trying hard not to cringe.
She wondered briefly just how much Penny had drunk during their time apart. Not enough to turn her from a fairly reasonable human being into one that’s certifiable, surely?
“Is everything okay between you and Joe?” asked Hannah.
“Yeah, of course. Of course it is,” Layla replied, feigning innocence at the question.
“It’s just the atmosphere seemed a bit tense between you.”
Layla was surprised. Had it been that obvious?
“No, we’re fine,” she insisted. “I just needed to sort something out with him, that’s all. And I almost did before Penny barged in.”
“He’s been a bit down these past couple of days,” Hannah continued. “I wondered if you knew why?”
The protective tone in Hannah’s voice was not lost on Layla. It was also, she thought, slightly accusatory. For a moment, she had an almost overwhelming urge to grab Hannah as Penny had grabbed Joseph and take her somewhere quiet to explain all. Keeping everything under wraps was proving nothing short of excruciating. But she resisted; it would only add fuel to a fire she was hoping would soon burn itself out.
Wishing afterward she hadn’t sounded so defensive, she replied, “No, I don’t know why he’s been down. Why should I?”
Hannah looked intently at her for a few more seconds before saying brightly, “Come on, then. Let’s go and find Jim, see what he’s up to.”
Layla would rather have found Penny and Joseph and seen what they were up to, but she duly obliged. Back in the kitchen, Jim and his bandmates, Curtis and Ryan, had joined forces, delighting their audience with an impromptu song. As soon as Jim saw Hannah, however, he made his excuses and came over to hug her. Such devotion made Layla smile.
An attractive couple, Hannah fit Jim like a glove, nestling into the groove of his chest, her head resting just below his shoulder. As Layla stood there admiring them, she locked eyes briefly with Hannah. As she did so, she detected a deep core of sadness within her and was surprised. What on earth did Hannah have to be sad about? She was happy with Jim, wasn’t she? She always said she was.
Layla would have pondered it further, but Joseph and Penny were occupying her thoughts. She should go and find them, stop Penny from telling him any more ridiculous untruths. She certainly did not talk about him all the time as Penny had insisted. She spoke about everyone equally, she was sure of it. And then something else occurred to her: what if Penny gave Joseph the impression that she knew about their night together? That the pair of them had cackled together like old witches about it? He could quite easily come to that conclusion, given the type of innuendoes Penny was fond of dishing up.
She decided there was no time to waste; she left Jim and Hannah to it and went in search of the missing duo.
Making her way through the crowd proved just as difficult as before. Not Mick this time, but several others determined to engage her in conversation. After responding with as few words as she could politely get away with, she had managed to escape, dismayed again at how much time had passed.
Layla peered anxiously into the darkness. It was raucous laughter, courtesy of Penny, that finally provided the clue to their whereabouts. They were in a secluded spot, just beyond the paved barbeque area, sitting on some kind of makeshift bench with Penny snuggled so close to Joseph she was practically on his lap. Much to Layla’s consternation, he no longer looked terrified. Rather, he looked amused, lifting his eyes only briefly to acknowledge Layla before turning his attention back to Penny.
“There you are,” said Layla, forcing brightness into her voice. “We were wondering where you’d got to.”
Of course, we weren’t wondering at all. Even Hannah had lost interest a while ago.
“Layla, hi,” Penny slurred. “You needn’t have worried. We’ve been perfectly happy getting to know each other, haven’t we, Joe?”
“We have indeed.” Joseph smiled—far too indulgently, she thought.
At Penny’s feet lay an empty wine bottle, rolling back and forth every time she inadvertently kicked it as her legs swung to and fro.
“I’m glad you’ve had a good time,” said Layla, looking pointedly at the wine bottle. “But it’s getting late. We need to make a move.”
“Late?” Penny held up her wrist in an exaggerated attempt to tell the time. “It’s hardly late. It’s not even midnight yet.”
Her irritation rising, Layla continued, “It is, almost. Come on, let’s go.”
“Blimey, Layla,” declared Penny with dramatic flourish, “this isn’t like you!” Turning to Joseph, she said, “She’s usually the last one standing, you know. Comes home with the milk cart and, more often than not, the milk man himself.” Penny burst out laughing at her own joke, inflaming Layla even more.
“That is not true,” Layla began, but Penny was unrelenting.
“Oh, I know. I know why she wants to go home,” she continued, leaning even further into Joseph, if such a thing were possible, and whispering in an annoyingly conspiratorial fashion. “She’s bored. That’s what it is. There’s no one here that takes her fancy. She hasn’t got a playmate.”
At this, Layla screamed at Penny to move her backside.
When Penny still cheerfully refused, it was Joseph who broke the tension, saying to Penny in a gentle and appeasing manner, “Come on, I’ll walk with you. I’ve got an early start in the morning. I could do with getting home too.”
As Penny rose unsteadily to her feet, she turned to Layla and, on a hiccup, boomed, “Layla Lewis, country living is turn
ing you into a bore. And I can’t think why, it’s brilliant down here!”
Deep down, Layla knew Penny’s comments were tongue-in-cheek, but she could find no humor in them. She tried to tell herself Penny wasn’t being deliberately mean; her friend didn’t know what had happened between her and Joseph and so couldn’t possibly be aware of the impact her words were having. But it didn’t do much good; Layla was still furious.
Eager to shake Joseph off, Layla turned to him and said firmly, “You don’t need to walk back with us, thanks. We’re fine.”
“He most certainly does,” Penny contradicted as she tripped over the empty bottle and fell into Joseph’s arms.
Effortlessly catching her, he replied just as firmly, “It’s not a problem. I do happen to be going your way, after all.”
Layla bristled at his insistence, but she knew it would be useless to protest further. Penny would shoot her down in flames if she did. Flouncing around, she walked back toward the living room, the two of them following close behind. As they pushed their way to the front door, they said their goodbyes to various revelers, only managing to wave at Jim and Hannah who were in the kitchen, swamped by friends.
It was less than a fifteen-minute walk from Jim and Hannah’s flat to the cottage, but Layla knew it would seem one hell of a lot longer than that. Penny had linked her arm with Joseph’s, and the two of them walked slightly ahead, leaving her trailing behind.
Shivering from the night air, she pulled her biker-style jacket closed. As she did so, chatter and laughter floated back to taunt her. Thanks a lot, Penny, she thought miserably.
Because of her so-called best friend, Joseph could be forgiven for thinking she was some sort of man-eating monster, jumping into bed with any man that had a pulse before packing them off with some convenient story about suffering from a broken heart. But it hadn’t been like that. She hadn’t meant to jump into bed with him, and she certainly hadn’t meant to enjoy it so much! She hadn’t meant to act like such an idiot afterward, either. And it’s true, she sniffed. I do have a broken heart.
The Runaway Year Page 9
