Love Me Or Leave Me

by Claudia Carroll

  Then he broke off and leaned forward on the table to really face her and even though there was only candlelight, she could still see his face flickering with sincerity.

  ‘But Jo, believe me, it was nothing more than a pathetic, misguided, misjudged, drunk-off-my-face one night stand. She meant absolutely zilch to me and I haven’t spoken two words to her since.’

  ‘You don’t have to say any more, please …’

  Now that he’d started though, there was no shutting him up.

  ‘… It was Christmas Eve and you and I had rowed about God knows what. In fact that whole miserable Christmas, the pair of us had been acting just like George and Martha from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf and I … well. Wanted to lash out, I suppose.’

  Jo felt a sudden flush of anger just at the memory, but she bit her tongue as Dave went on.

  ‘… And I had to tell you. Nothing would have been easier for me than to shut up about it and say nothing and act the innocent, but I couldn’t keep it from you. If nothing else, we’ve always been brutally honest with each other …’

  ‘… To the point of viciousness at times,’ she said sardonically.

  ‘… And I felt like such a shit, I can’t tell you. You were just heading into your final round of treatment and were weak and vulnerable, not to mention ill. And what did I do? I went and betrayed you. And even though I hate being here with every fibre in me, there’s a big part of me that can’t blame you for wanting rid of me. But Jo, I really am so sorry. You’ll never know how sorry. Through my own stupidity, I lost you and I deserved to. So that’s what this is about really. If this is the final act for you and me, then I thought the least you deserved was a worthy and fitting curtain call. I felt the very least I could do was to give our marriage a decent burial.’

  A long pause as Jo sat back and really tried to digest all this. Which was weird, because she wasn’t used to silence around Dave. Normally, each of them rarely let the other get a word in edgeways.

  ‘Thank you for your letters,’ was all she could bring herself to eventually say.

  ‘Well, we always seem to be emailing each other, I often think the written word is our main artery of communication. So in a way, it sort of seemed fitting.’

  ‘And thank you for tonight. I’m going to need time, Dave. An awful lot of time. But for what it’s worth, I do mean this sincerely. Thank you.’

  ‘Anytime,’ he said simply, and for one lovely moment, they both smiled.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chloe.

  The final furlong. Our very last day and there’s already an atmosphere of finality about the hotel. It’s well past five on Sunday evening and each of our guests completed their last sessions (all about division of assets and pensions) earlier on this afternoon, Hallelujah be praised.

  Anyway, the main news to report is that Lucy called me first thing this morning from the hospital, with the wonderful news that Andrew is far more stable today and has been moved out of the ICU to a private room instead. I swear, I could hear the relief in the girl’s voice as she told me, and boy, did it do my heart good. So I told her to stay put and that I’d see to getting all of her and Andrew’s things packed up and sent off to whatever address she thought best. And I’ve got the strongest feeling that both sets of luggage will be going to the same address too.

  Anyway, I’ve got twelve couples here in total and thankfully the vast majority seem to have sailed through the whole weekend with ne’er a cross word between them. In fact if anything, they were all full of thanks and praise for the staff and for the whole team who’d eased them as far as this point.

  We had a late lunch scheduled for guests before this evening’s check-out, but it’s such a gloriously sunny day that our head chef decided to hold an impromptu barbecue out on the terrace, to really send everyone home in style. Which I have to say was an inspired idea and the perfect send-off too.

  It’s still beautifully warm and sunny outside and guests are dressed down, mostly in jeans and casual gear, all congregating round the barbecue where the most fabulous, mouth-watering smells are emanating from. People are sitting anywhere and everywhere in the garden, chatting and yakking amongst themselves, happily soaking up the last of the evening rays.

  ‘Hey honey, you come sit by me!’ Jayne from Noo Yawk is calling over to Kirk, who’s wandering around in bare feet with a plateful of couscous, scanning the crowd as though he’s looking for someone. Kirk obligingly does as he’s told and ambles over as Jayne pats the empty seat beside her.

  ‘You’re just far too cute to be straying around here all alone!’ she says fondly, then nudges him and winks. ‘So tell me this much. You ever considered dating an older woman? Maybe a cougar like me? ’Cause I gotta tell ya, honey, my Larry’s been very generous to me this weekend! You’re looking at a pretty wealthy lady now!’

  To his credit, Kirk just smiles and bats it aside.

  Meanwhile I’m as ever, torn between trying to be in five places at once, as plenty of guests need to check out early to make it to the airport for flights home and it’s important I’m there to wish them goodbye and wave them off. So I’m busy circulating around the terrace and keeping drinks topped up along with the rest of the staff, scanning around the garden either for Dawn or else Jo and Dave, but so far, no sign.

  And I’m also wondering where Rob has got to, when Liliana suddenly appears at my shoulder.

  ‘You’re needed at Reception right now,’ she tells me discreetly.

  ‘Our Finnish couple ready to check out?’ I ask her anxiously. They’d an early evening flight and I know they were concerned about getting to the airport in plenty of time.

  ‘Just go,’ Liliana smiles mysteriously. ‘You’ll see.’

  I head back through the bar and into Reception and there’s the biggest, most ludicrously overblown bunch of flowers waiting there, oddly enough looking like they’re being held up by a man’s legs. Hairy legs, in a pair of Bermuda shorts. And there’s only one guest round here who goes round in shorts day and night.

  ‘It’s me here, under this miniature garden!’ says Dave and I immediately burst out laughing.

  ‘Dave, are these for Jo? Because I think she’s still upstairs packing …’

  ‘No, lovely girl,’ he says, leaving the bouquet on the reception desk. ‘These are for you. I came to say thank you.’

  ‘Dave! There was absolutely no need!’

  ‘Excuse me, but there very much was a need,’ he grins cheekily, shoving a clumpful of his hair out of his eyes, so as usual, it ends up standing at a really weird angle to his head. ‘You helped me so much yesterday evening. You listened, you advised me what to do and so, I did it.’

  ‘Hey, that’s fantastic!’

  ‘You told me to woo her. To make one, big, grand romantic gesture. So I did. I arranged this sort of late night midnight picnic, with all the fancy grub she likes and I hate. And we talked, like grown adults having the first civilized conversation we’ve had in months. No rows, no recriminations, just two people trying to figure out where to go from here.’

  ‘I’m so proud of you! And do you think maybe it worked?’

  ‘A little early to say yet, but let’s just say you can watch this space with great interest.’

  As if on cue, the lift door glides open and out comes Jo, followed by the hall porter with her luggage. Dave strides over to her, takes the wheelie bag she’s dragging behind her and helps the porter to carry it all outside and into a taxi for her. Jo thanks him, then immediately smiles when she sees me.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Chloe,’ she says, sounding different to her usual brisk, efficient self. Warmer, somehow. ‘I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. And thank you. So much. For everything.’

  ‘You’re so welcome. And I’m delighted that things are all finalized.’

  ‘Well, we’ve certainly worked out our divorce agreement, and between us we’ve settled everything that we possibly could. But I think we both know I’m n
ot just talking about division of property and bloody assets and pension reserves here either.’

  I say nothing, just smile.

  ‘Thank you, Chloe. You’ve been my sanity these last few days. I mean it,’ she says sincerely.

  ‘Anytime. Are you sure you need to leave right now though? We’ve got a gorgeous barbecue on the go outside. Won’t you stay and have something to eat before you go?’

  ‘Can’t,’ she says, shaking her head firmly. ‘I’ve got a mountain of work to catch up on after this weekend and I’m on a flight to Chicago first thing tomorrow, so I’m afraid this really is it. This is goodbye.’

  She’d already checked out earlier, so there’s nothing for me to do but to hug her goodbye and wish her a safe trip. I walk her out the front door in time to see Dave and the porter loading up a cab for her, but then, sensing that the two of them would rather have a little moment alone, I wave her goodbye and step back inside to give them a bit of privacy.

  My mind is wandering as I head back outside to the garden. Because Jo and Dave may well have finalized their divorce agreement alright, but if you ask me, they’re still a very long way from –

  I’m suddenly interrupted by a burst of giggles coming from the terrace. And to my delight I see that it’s my little pet Dawn deep in chat with lovely Tommy, who’s clearly just cracked her up about something.

  ‘I swear to God, that’s a totally true story!’ Tommy is telling her while Dawn, I notice, is blushing very prettily. She looks absolutely gorgeous this evening too, in a pretty floral summery dress with the long red hair tied up in a ponytail.

  ‘And did I tell you about the time I was working in a bar in London and who walks in only yer man, Robert Pattinson …’

  ‘… Oh God, I LOVE him!’

  ‘… At least I thought it was Robert Pattinson, all the bar staff did, so we started giving not just him, but all his entourage free drink for the night. And then it turned out he was only an aul’ lookalike! Nearly got the sack over that one, I can tell you.’

  ‘You big eejit!’

  She roars laughing again and pucks him playfully, just as Larry calls Tommy over and orders a whisky chaser for himself. The minute Dawn’s all by herself, I give her a little wave and walk over to her.

  ‘Having fun?’ I ask her, faux innocent.

  ‘Just, you know … enjoying the chat, that’s all,’ she starts off coyly, then seeing the glint in my eyes, immediately drops the act. ‘Oh Chloe, he’s such a pet. And he makes me laugh too. And believe me, I can’t remember the last time that happened.’

  Suddenly I get a flashback to the very first time Dawn and I ever met. And how nervous and vulnerable and fragile she’d seemed way back then. And I look at her now and I swear to God, it’s a bit like looking at a different person. Gladdens your heart, that’s all I’m saying.

  ‘Well, I have to say how good it is to see you having fun,’ I tell her.

  ‘And I can’t tell you how good it feels! Especially after the last few days and … well you know, the crap we went through before we even got here. Seriously though, it’s hard to believe it’s all over now. And that Kirk and I will be divorced in no time.’

  ‘But you’ll move on. I know you will,’ I tell her knowingly.

  There’s a tiny pause and she leans in closer to me, the big blue eyes sparkling. ‘Tommy’s asked for my phone number. Just last night. And he’s talking about going to the movies this week. And so I thought, sure feck it. What have I got to lose? Aren’t I young, free and single now? And why not? After all, there’s plenty more fish in the sea, aren’t there?’

  Certainly are, I think, silently blessing Tommy for being in the right place at exactly the right time. Then our German couple call me away and I’m just making my way to them, when finally I spot him.

  Rob. Right at the very bottom of the garden and deep in chat with my lovely Finnish guests, all chatting and laughing happily together.

  For a moment, I stand there, just taking him in. He really is attractive, I find myself thinking, though one of those guys who seems blissfully unaware of it. Tall and lean, in a light blue shirt and jeans today, standing there chatting away in the evening light, he looks, no other words for it, highly fanciable. Gorgeous even. He catches my eye and winks, so I give a tiny wave back. Then he ambles over to where I am and stands by my side, as ever towering over me as we survey the crowd together.

  ‘All in all, not a bad weekend’s work, Ms Townsend. Wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Not one without its fair share of drama, I’d say.’

  ‘I’m looking at a lot of happy guests here this evening. A lot of satisfied customers. I told you a while ago, standing right on this very spot if memory serves, that I always know when I’m onto a winner. Do you remember?’

  ‘Course I do,’ I laugh. ‘It was just a few weeks before we opened and we were up to our tonsils with builders here. Then you just landed in on top of us without a word of warning … I was terrified!’

  ‘Remember me telling you this hotel was going to do me proud? Well, I knew it then and know it now. I can just feel it.’

  ‘Always good to know that the owner is happy.’

  ‘More than happy. And you must know that a large part of that is down to you.’

  And then he turns to face me full on. ‘So come on then, Ms Townsend. You’ve worked like a dog all weekend long and I don’t think I’ve seen you come up for air once. Now that our work is almost done here, tell me this much. What are your immediate plans?’

  ‘Well,’ I tell him, racking my brains through the fug of near exhaustion I’m working under, ‘we’ve got a meeting in the morning about our next batch of guests, but seeing as everyone has worked so hard, I was going to give all the staff a bit of a lie in and …’

  ‘Chloe, you’re not listening to me. I meant your immediate plans for tonight?’

  ‘Are you kidding me? Sleep and lots of it.’

  ‘You know, you’ll always sleep better on a full stomach …’

  ‘True …’

  ‘So before you leave, is there any chance I can take you out to dinner?’

  *

  Well, this is a work dinner. Course it is. I mean, obviously it is. Because what else would it be? And okay, so maybe I did change out of my uniform and back into what I’d worn into work that day (pink shift dress with a pair of summery sandals. Not very dressy, but somehow I’m just more comfy like this). But it’s absolutely not a date, that much I’m sure of. And yes, I may have lashed on a little bit more make-up than normal, but still. I’m well aware of what this is. Or rather what it isn’t. Just saying, that’s all.

  Anyway, it’s coming up to eight as Rob and I are strolling in the still-warm evening out of the hotel and down Leeson Street, though I haven’t the first iota of where he’s taking me. But to be honest, after the weekend I’ve had, it feels good to sit back and let someone else make decisions, for a change. Our very last guest has just checked out and I can’t describe the sheer feeling of weightlessness that – for the most part at least – the whole weekend seems to have gone well.

  ‘Hope you’re hungry, Ms Townsend,’ Rob says, looking across at me with just a glint in the grey eyes.

  ‘Are you kidding me? I actually can’t remember the last time I sat down to a proper meal, actually served up to me, as opposed to just grabbing sandwiches on the run.’

  ‘Atta girl. I’ve booked somewhere very special, as it happens … and by the way,’ he adds appreciatively, ‘I’m loving that dress on you. The colour really suits you. You look terrific.’

  ‘Emm … thanks.’

  But he breaks off here, as his mobile starts ringing.

  ‘Sorry,’ he says, ‘but I’ve got to take this. Do you mind?’

  ‘Course not,’ I say, noticing that his whole face completely lit up the second he saw who it was on the caller ID.

  Work call, my arse I think. On a Sunday evening? It’s her, whoever she is. And really would you blame her? If I’d a fel
la like this on the go, I’d find it hard to stop myself checking in on him myself. In fact, I’d be tempted to have him chipped with a tracking device, so I could monitor his movements at all times.

  ‘Sweetheart!’ Rob beams down the phone. ‘You’re such an angel to call. How was your day today? Good, great in fact. But tell me about you, what did you do?’

  He chats on easily and I deliberately look away as we stroll out onto Stephen’s Green.

  ‘… Yeah … perfect, sounds good to me. Well, how about next Friday then? I’ll be back in London then and can’t wait to see you … fantastic. Look I can’t really chat now, but I’ll call you first thing tomorrow. Love you too!’

  Then, to my surprise, Rob steers me towards Shanahan’s on the Green, one of the poshest, not to mention the most expensive restaurants in the whole city. The maître d’ already seems to know him, as he rushes out to greet Rob effusively and escorts us to a gorgeous table, right in the dead centre of the restaurant. We’re given menus and wine lists and a silence falls while we each study them. Then a waiter takes our order and comes back with a very expensive bottle of wine, which he pours, while Rob leans forward and grins over at me.

  ‘Here’s to you,’ he says, clinking glasses with me.

  ‘Well, thank you,’ is all I can say, delighted. ‘And thanks for taking me here … talk about swishy!’

  ‘I wanted somewhere special, somewhere memorable. So I could really thank you properly. Because you really did a terrific job,’ he says sincerely, eyes twinkling in the dim candlelight. ‘I knew I made the right call the day I hired you.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Absolutely. You were the perfect woman for the job. No one could have done it better.’

  ‘But, well …’

  ‘You’ve a problem with my complimenting you, Ms Townsend?’

  ‘No,’ I laugh, ‘it’s just that … well, what about all those phone calls to me? Day and night. The constant micromanaging. I had the feeling that you didn’t quite trust me. Am I right?’

  He says nothing for a bit, just thoughtfully glances down at the menu.