Love Me Or Leave Me

by Claudia Carroll

  ‘Well … there might just have been other reasons for checking in with you as often as I did,’ he says lightly, almost deliberately not looking at me now.

  He leaves it hanging there and I’m completely intrigued and dying to probe him a bit, but just as abruptly he changes the subject.

  ‘Oh and by the way, I’ve got the strongest feeling that you were doing more than your fair share of relationship counselling behind the scenes over the weekend. Am I right?’

  I take a sip of the crisp, white wine he ordered and sit back a little.

  ‘Well … maybe just a little …’

  ‘Come on, you can’t pull the wool over my eyes,’ he grins, laughing over at me now. ‘It’s all over anyway now, so you’ve nothing to lose by telling me. What about Dawn Madden then? And that long-haired guy who tried to set fire to the whole place our first night?’

  ‘Ah, you mean my little pet, Dawn …’

  ‘I’m listening,’ he says, sitting forward, looking at me keenly.

  ‘Well, it’s just that …’ I break off here, thinking back to my very first interview with Dawn and how terrified she’d been, like the poor kid was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Kirk had so clearly moved on and while I wasn’t particularly bothered about the intricacies of his love life, it was Dawn I worried about. And how happy it makes me to see her finally about ready to move on.

  ‘The truth please, Ms Townsend. Were you doing a little matchmaking for her over the weekend?’

  ‘Ah now, would you blame me? And I’ve absolutely no idea if things will work out between Dawn and Tommy, but that’s almost beside the point, really, isn’t it? After what that poor girl had been through, she just needed the confidence boost of a good-looking man chatting her up and asking her out, that’s all. Just to know that life does, somehow, go on.’

  ‘So what about Jo Hargreaves and Dave? I couldn’t help noticing you had a good long private chat with him last night … so tell me, what was that over?’

  So I fill him in, blushing a bit to think of how little I’d warmed to Jo, way back when I’d first interviewed her. Or more correctly, when she first interviewed me. Then how my heart had gone out to her, that night she told me that everyone assumed she was to blame for the marriage falling apart, and yet … there were two sides to every story.

  ‘You see, Dave still loves her,’ I say. ‘Adores her, in fact, in spite of everything. And I think she’s a lot more dependent on him than she thinks. He messed up though, big time and yet something tells me that they’ll find a way to work through this.’

  ‘You think they’ll still divorce?’

  ‘I can’t say. But I think whatever happens, you can be sure they’ll work through it together now, side by side. In fact, Dave’s last words to me were, “You just watch this space.”’

  ‘Listen to you,’ he grins easily. ‘You sound just like Aunt Sally in the Sunday Times. Fixing everyone all around you. So come on then, while you’re on a roll, tell me about Lucy and poor Andrew Lowe.’

  I shake my head firmly.

  ‘I’ll pan-fry my own liver if that pair get divorced. Couldn’t you see it for yourself last night? She adores him and I’m certain he feels the same. All weekend long, he was so concerned about her, constantly kept referring to her as his wife …’ I break off here a bit, then just shake my head. ‘No. It was just circumstances that broke them up, nothing more. But you know what? You could just sense a bit of a thawing between Lucy and Andrew’s daughter last night. And I really think once he’s well again, the pair of them will be able to get through anything, no matter what the future throws at them. Maybe even as a family this time. I just feel it.’

  ‘Chloe Townsend,’ says Rob, leaning forward now and giving me that intense look he has. Very, very sexy, I now find myself thinking from out of nowhere. ‘You know the more I listen to you, the more I think what a loss you were to the relationship counselling profession.’

  ‘It’s not me,’ I tell him, ‘it’s Hope Street. If you ask me, there’s healing in the bricks and mortar of the place.’

  ‘Maybe you’re right.’

  ‘Besides,’ I go on, smiling wryly, ‘we’ve all been there, haven’t we? We’ve all been in bad relationships that went belly-up and we’ve all known heartache. And I suppose I’m living, breathing proof that life does go on. And that tomorrow is always another day.’

  ‘Which neatly brings us to Frank,’ Rob says, all interested.

  ‘Oh, yeah. Frank.’

  ‘Chloe,’ he says, more softly now, ‘now it’s absolutely none of my concern, but when he just showed up at the hotel like that … I really thought I’d inflict lasting damage on the guy. After what he did to you? Talk about having a brass neck!’

  I don’t argue. Mainly because, after the initial shock of seeing him had worn off me, I’d pretty much felt that way myself for the rest of the day too.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’ Rob goes on, seemingly unwilling to drop the subject.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Something a bit personal?’

  I take a deep breath and nod, almost sensing what’s coming next.

  ‘Why did he do it? Because that’s what I can’t get my head around. Why any man would put someone like you through something so bloody indescribable. And on your wedding day too? When I brought it up yesterday,’ he adds, ‘you did promise you might tell me over dinner sometime. So here we are.’

  I have to take a moment before I can gather my thoughts enough to answer him. So I take another tiny sip of the crisp Pinot Grigio in front of me and sit back, somehow trying to piece it all together in my head.

  Jagged memories start to surface. I remember locking myself into the bathroom of my hotel suite at the Merrion all that time ago, with lovely, loyal Gemma right beside me, heated rollers still in her hair and wobbling dangerously, so she looked a bit like a Dalek.

  ‘Chloe sweetheart, would you please just tell me what happened between you and Frank in here, not ten minutes ago?’ she kept on asking me. ‘Otherwise how are we going to be able to fix it and get you to the church on time?’

  I was perched on a ledge over by the bathroom window, that much I can still remember too. My room looked directly down onto the hotel’s immaculate gardens below and I had a bird’s eye view of the catering staff bustling around, as outdoor chairs were being set up for the Merrion’s famous afternoon tea on the terrace, after the church/boring bit of the day. As I’d done myself for so many other brides on countless other wedding days.

  How can they all just continue on with their lives as normal, like nothing just happened? I found myself thinking from out of nowhere. Don’t they realize the whole world has just suddenly stopped spinning round on its axis?

  My job there was all about management and containment and reducing dramas down to their proper proportions, but somehow the normal rules just didn’t seem to apply at times like that. I mean outside of Hollywood movies, who did you ever hear of that ended up in a situation like mine?

  ‘Chloe love,’ Gemma insisted, patting me gently on the back like a colicky baby. ‘You’ve got to tell me.’

  Right then, I thought, staring dully down two floors below. You asked for it, so here you go. Head aching, I somehow tried to piece it all together in my head, so I could at least get to articulate it right. So I slumped back against Gemma and somehow forced myself to try and find the words.

  ‘Chloe?’ says Rob, who’s still looking over at me all concerned, waiting on an answer.

  So I take a deep breath and then just plunge straight in.

  ‘In the end, it was a classic case of cold feet,’ I tell him out straight. ‘It only happened just about an hour before we were due to leave the hotel for the church, in fact. Frank came into my hotel room to tell me …’

  ‘Yeah …?’ Rob says, alert, utterly focused on what I’m going to say next.

  ‘Well, that he’d been having second thoughts and … that he didn’t think he could go through with it.’r />
  ‘He said what?’ He actually looks flushed now. First time I’ve ever seen Rob looking angry.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, he was very apologetic and everything, I mean, I’ll give him that much, Frank’s always very polite …’

  ‘And did he give you any reason why?’ he asks, face tight, instantly back to being unreadable.

  ‘Well, he said that it wasn’t me, it was him.’

  ‘I’ll bet the bastard did. But go on.’

  ‘He said … well … that he’d been feeling completely overwhelmed by the whole marriage thing for the past few weeks …’

  ‘And he thought right then was the appropriate day to tell you? One hour before you were due to walk down the aisle?’

  ‘Then I remember him saying … well, which was worse? To have a miserable few years together and ultimately end up divorced, or else to do the brave thing and call it off right there and then. He actually used those words: “A few miserable years.” He said he didn’t want to end up divorced like his parents, and that in the long run, this was avoiding us both all of that unnecessary pain.’

  In fact, that’s the astonishing thing about the whole nightmare. The way Frank put it back then, you’d have sworn he was nearly doing me a favour.

  A pause, and it’s a while before Rob eventually speaks.

  ‘I’m sorry, Chloe. Painful memories for you and I shouldn’t have asked you something so personal. I’d absolutely no right to. I just had to know, that’s all.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I tell him and surprise myself by really meaning it. ‘I mean, yes, for a long time afterwards I was a complete mess. After all, I was the girl who got stood up on her own wedding day. I thought I was tarred for life and that the epitaph would follow me everywhere. Thing is,’ I go on, breaking off to take another sip of wine, ‘I’m an invisible-type person, an in-the-background type who you take absolutely no notice of, but who’s ultimately there to fix things, to smooth everything over for you, to make your life easier. That’s my job, it’s what I do.’

  ‘And you do it beautifully. Though I don’t think I’d quite describe you as invisible,’ he says, with a tiny smile.

  ‘But after that, my fear was that I’d take front centre stage for as long as I was alive. I felt like a living, walking, breathing, twenty-first-century Miss Havisham.’

  Not to mention the fact that I thought I’d never trust another man with my heart as long as I was alive.

  ‘And do you ever think about, well, what might have been?’ Rob asks, leaning forward, eyes burning now.

  ‘You mean … if we’d gone ahead and …’

  ‘Well, yeah.’

  No polite pussyfooting around what he’s referring to, so there’s nothing for it but try to root around for the right words.

  ‘The truth is, I never thought I’d get over what happened to me. And it took a long, long time to get over, that’s for sure. And yet … it’s hard to put into words …’

  ‘Go on,’ he says, all ears.

  ‘But there’s just been something very soothing and grounding about working with all these couples. And like I said, the Hope Street Hotel really does seem to be like a place of healing. Time and again over the weekend, I couldn’t help myself thinking, supposing if what happened to me never happened? If I’d actually gone ahead and got to walk down an aisle that day three years ago, would this be me now? If Frank and I had married, would I have been checking into a hotel like ours this weekend and not managing it instead?’

  ‘And do you think you would have?’ he asks me gently. ‘If I’m not being too cheeky, that is.’

  ‘Without a doubt. Come on Rob, I had a groom who was at best lukewarm about the whole thing, which would hardly have been a great start to any married life. And even though I’ve spent the longest time fantasizing about what it would be like to murder him in cold blood for what he put me through …’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Well, after seeing him yesterday … it was, somehow liberating. For the first time in three long years, I walked away from him with my head held high and better yet, with a sense of closure.’

  ‘Very glad to hear it,’ Rob smiles, the eyes twinkling in the dim candlelight.

  ‘Thing is, I can’t help thinking that the guy actually did me a favour that day. Because for all the pain and heartache and humiliation I had to deal with, it’s absolutely nothing compared to what a lot of couples divorcing go through. And I should know, certainly after this experience.’

  Our starters arrive, sautéed garlic shrimp for him, a Caesar salad for me, but while Rob tucks in hungrily, I just play a bit with mine. Because it’s now or never really, isn’t it? When might I get him on his own again somewhere intimate like this? And it’s not like he hasn’t asked me enough about my private life, anyway.

  Feck it anyway. I’m only dying to know, so I go for it.

  ‘So enough about me, what about you, then?’ I prod gently. ‘You know all about my sad history, but I’m guessing you must have a lot going on in your own private life too?’

  ‘Less than you might think,’ he winks back at me, between mouthfuls. ‘Considerably less.’

  ‘But … aren’t you seeing someone right now? I mean, I thought that …’

  ‘No. Single.’

  ‘But what about …? I mean, when you were on the phone just now and all those times before … not that I was listening in, or anything … but it was pretty hard not to overhear you …’

  And now suddenly he’s roaring laughing.

  ‘Oh, that! No, I was on the phone to my daughter.’

  ‘You have a daughter?’

  Bloody hell, he kept that quiet!

  ‘Yeah. Eight years of age and the light of my life.’

  ‘But you’re not with …’

  ‘… With her Mum? No. Susan and I broke up before she even discovered she was pregnant. But I very much wanted to be involved in Beatrice’s life …’

  ‘… That’s her name? It’s so cute …’

  ‘Oh, you wanna see her. She’s gorgeous. Nothing like me, I’m delighted to say. So I support her of course, and see her every chance I can get. In fact, the child has me wrapped around her little finger.’

  I am such a gobshite. An ex and a little girl? Rob reads my thoughts though and keeps on slagging me playfully.

  ‘So to recap, Ms Townsend. You heard me on the phone saying I love you and can’t wait to see you and all of that, and presumed I was onto a girlfriend?’

  ‘Well …’ Pretty much, yeah.

  ‘Young, free and single,’ he teases, the eyes dancing now.

  I’m wrong footed now, so of course immediately start babbling to make up for it.

  ‘Well of course, in our line of work it’s very difficult to meet anyone, isn’t it?’

  ‘You said it … what with the crazy hours we put in and everything …’

  ‘… And then when you do get time off, you’re just so wrecked you want to sleep, don’t you? I mean, even on my day off, I’m just streeling around the place like a zombie …’

  ‘… Chloe …’

  ‘… Because you really have to be married to this job, I think …’

  ‘… Chloe?’

  ‘… Yeah …?’

  ‘… You’re gabbling. I’m not able to keep up with you …’

  ‘… Oh, right …’

  ‘Thing is, you asked me earlier why I kept calling you constantly in the run-up to Hope Street opening …’

  ‘And you wouldn’t answer me!’ I tease.

  ‘Well, here’s your answer right now. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just liked having our chats, no matter how businesslike? That maybe even …’

  Our hands are side by side on the table now, almost touching. And I’ve a knot in my stomach just waiting on him to finish that sentence.

  ‘… maybe even … well, the thing is, a lot of the reason I wanted to ask you here this evening was …’

  ‘… Emm … yeah …’

  ‘I me
an … seeing as how Frank is a thing of the past now …’

  ‘Yeah …?’

  ‘… Well, I suppose I wondered if you’d ever have any interest in having a non-work-related night out sometime …’

  ‘… Oh well …’ I stammer, dumfounded.

  ‘… Mind you, I take first dates very seriously …’

  ‘… Of course …’ I smile.

  ‘… They’re vital, in fact. They set the tone of the whole relationship to come …’

  ‘… So …’

  ‘… So if you’re free next Saturday night, is there any chance you’d meet up? Just for a casual night out maybe?’

  ‘Well … yeah … I mean, thank you. Yes. That sounds absolutely lovely.’

  ‘And Chloe …?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Might just be a good idea to bring your passport.’

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  Dawn.

  ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DA-AAAAWN,

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!’

  There’s a loud whooping and cheering as Dawn attempted to blow out all twenty-six of her birthday candles on the giant novelty cake her Mum had made for the party specially. A custom-made cake, get this, that looked exactly like the shopfront of Earth’s Garden. It was so incredible looking that Dawn thought it a sin to stick a knife into it and start chopping it up. Far nicer just to stare at it, in all its gorgeousness instead.

  The function room in her Mum’s tennis club was packed out with friends and well-wishers and Dawn looked fondly around at everyone, silently blessing them all for coming. Absolutely everyone she knew was here: Eva, their Mum and all the family, and her mates from work.

  Funny thing, it suddenly struck Dawn as she looked around. So many faces here who had the misfortune to suffer through her wedding, almost four years ago. They’d all dutifully turned up that day and they’d all suffered through hemp bleeding wine and a vegan buffet with sitar music in the background. And yet just take a look at her life now! Had she ever thought she’d come out of the tunnel she’d been stuck in? Had she ever even dreamed it possible, not only that life would go on, but that it might, just might, actually take a turn for the better?