Me, You and Tiramisu

by Charlotte Butterfield

  ‘No, it’s not soap, it’s just another box.’ She said, delicately popping the lid back on and setting the pot back down again.

  ‘Maybe the soap’s inside the other box? Can you check?’

  ‘Why would they wrap the soap up in a box with a ribbon?’

  ‘Um, I don’t know, darling. Can you just, maybe, open it and see?’ Will’s voice was wavering somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

  Jayne pulled both ends of the ribbon and it fell away into the water. Lifting up the lid, she saw the most perfect round diamond that she’d ever seen. Its smooth surface shone with hundreds of tiny flawless reflections beneath it. She gasped. Will took the box from her wet trembling hands and picked up her other hand.

  ‘Jayne Brady. I adore the bones of you.’ His eyes started filling as he saw tears flowing freely down Jayne’s cheeks as she understood what was about to happen. ‘You complete me. You make me a better person and I want to hear your laughter every day for the rest of my life, making me smile. I want to have children with you who grow up to be just like you, filled with fun and kindness, and compassion. We’re on a crazy adventure at the moment, but it wouldn’t be anything without you by my side. I want to spend every day of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me. Will you marry me?’

  Jayne made no effort to wipe away her tears as she panted between sobs, ‘Yes, yes, of course I will!’

  He smiled and slipped the ring onto Jayne’s finger, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it. ‘I love you.’

  ‘Not heart?’

  ‘Not this time.’

  Their fingers were like raisins and the bath water had passed the point of being tepid and was nearing stone-cold when they finally, reluctantly, clambered out of it. Curled up next to each other on the sofa, both wearing matching fluffy white dressing gowns, they clinked glasses filled with the champagne Will had pre-ordered, being fairly convinced his question would have a happy ending. Holding her left hand out in front of her to admire the way the brilliant solitaire caught the light, Jayne voiced her amazement again at how he’d managed to conceal this surprise from her for weeks. ‘If I wasn’t so deliriously happy, I’d be slightly concerned at how adept you were at keeping something secret from me.’

  ‘I have hidden depths that even you don’t know about.’

  ‘You’d like to think so, but we both know that’s not true. Can I break the weekend rules for about thirty seconds to call Rachel, Abi and Helen to tell them our news?’

  ‘For thirty seconds per call, and I’m timing you. I have plans for the rest of the evening that involve you, me, that four-poster and the Do Not Disturb sign.’

  They had left the hotel only once over the whole weekend to tramp hand in hand along the narrow footpath that wove its way over the fields and country lanes surrounding the manor house. They pointed out ivy-clad cottages to each other that would once have been part of the sprawling estate – gardeners’ cottages, or farm labourers’, Will reckoned. Now prime real estate in a countryside haven filled with second-home owners. They both marvelled at the tranquility without drawing attention to it – to do so would have broken the very thing they were admiring.

  The rest of the time they mainly stayed in their suite, or lounged around the oak-panelled library downstairs, reading funny bits out loud from old battered books they’d found on the shelves. Will was re-reading a Jeeves and Wooster while Jayne had picked out a Poirot.

  ‘Do you think it’s someone’s job to choose the books to go in this library, because they all seem to be in keeping with the house – very Upstairs Downstairs,’ she mused, putting the book down next to her pot of tea.

  ‘If it is, I want it,’ replied Will. ‘How amazing would it be to have your own library! With a tray just like that one,’ he indicated a silver tray with a decanter of brandy and some cut-crystal tumblers, which sat on a walnut side table. ‘It’s like stepping back in time.’

  ‘My library would have a selection of wine instead. And when you enter, you get given your own bookmark, which acts as your membership card, so you can always find your place in whatever book you were reading when you last came.’

  ‘That sounds more like a wine bar with books.’

  ‘You say tomato.’

  ‘Are we really doing this again?’ Will teased.

  ‘But don’t you think it’s a good idea? A place where literary-loving winos can go and have a drink after work and unwind with their favourite book?’

  ‘Actually, you know what? It does sound fabulous. Throw in a plate of Parma ham and some olives and it’s my idea of heaven.’

  ‘We could call it Shakespeare & Chardonnay, or Rowling & Rioja. We should totally do that one day. Open up something like that.’

  ‘Yes. In the ten minutes per week we currently have free, in between brushing our teeth and turning the light out, we should totally open up a wine-bar library.’

  ‘I’m going to ignore your mocking tone, Scarlet, because you’ve just proposed to me and said some very nice things, but don’t think that you can maintain this level of facetiousness once we’re married, because I just won’t stand for it.’

  Chapter 16

  Will discreetly pressed a ten-pound note into the valet’s hand before slamming his door and revving the engine. ‘Do we have to go?’ Jayne whined, ‘Can’t we stay here forever?’

  ‘Aren’t you in a hurry to flash your rock at Rachel?’

  ‘Oh, yes! Put your foot down.’

  As they neared the M25 Jayne reached into her bag to turn their phones on. It had been absolutely blissful not having Michaela call Will every ten seconds barking another instruction at him, or his growing team of staff headed by Bernard, who now ran the deli and the cooking school, phoning him with some query. She’d also enjoyed not having to field calls from Crystal. Jayne had barely spoken to her since the doomed Christmas, returning only one call in ten. After decades of barely conversing with her daughter, her sudden interest in the minutiae of her life happening at the exact-same time her daughter’s boyfriend hit the big time was incredibly suspect.

  As soon as the screens came to life the two phones would not stop buzzing. They both had hundreds of missed calls, and more texts than their inboxes could cope with – both of them showing full capacity.

  ‘Something’s wrong. Loads of people are trying to get in touch with us,’ Jayne shrieked, ‘What if the flat’s burned down? Or there’s been some sort of accident?’

  ‘Calm down and call Rachel or Bernard. They’ll know what’s happening. I’m sure it’s fine.’

  Jayne keyed in her sister’s number. Rachel picked up on the first ring. ‘Are you okay?’ Rachel yelled.

  ‘I’m okay, what about you? What’s going on?’

  ‘What do you mean what’s going on? Haven’t you seen the papers? Why was your phone off?’

  ‘What papers? What’s going on?’

  ‘Where are you now?’ Rachel sounded out of breath, as though she was pacing the room.

  ‘We’re about fifteen minutes away from home.’

  ‘Don’t come here – there’s loads of photographers outside.’

  ‘Outside the flat? Why?’

  ‘Your engagement was in the papers and then some stories have come out about you, old pictures. Look, I don’t want to explain over the phone just in case–’

  ‘Just in case what?’ Jayne’s voice had risen to near-hysteria, ‘Rachel, you’re really freaking me out.’

  ‘Well, I am pretty freaked out, they’ve run pictures of the two of us when we were children. I was followed to work yesterday, so couldn’t go today. Seriously, it’s all majorly kicked off here. Don’t answer your phone and don’t call Abi or Crystal.’

  ‘Abi? Why shouldn’t I call Abi?’

  ‘Look, I’ll explain everything when I see you. Where are you going to go?’

  ‘We’re coming home. I’m not going to be bullied by a few photographers. See you in a bit.’ As soon as Jayne hung up she was faced with a ba
rrage of questions from Will. He’d got the gist of the conversation from hearing Jayne’s side of it, but wanted to know exactly what they were walking into before they got there.

  ‘Can you type in Michaela’s number and put it on speaker?’ he said.

  Again, it only took one ring before she answered. Everyone must be literally sitting on their phones today, Jayne thought.

  ‘Where the fuck have you been?’ Michaela’s normal aura of composure had been eaten away by her rage. ‘And why the hell was your phone turned off?’

  ‘Jayne and I went away for the weekend. What’s going on?’

  ‘Your girlfriend has sold you out.’ She spat out the word ‘girlfriend’ as though it was venom.

  ‘Michaela, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about?’

  ‘Why don’t you ask Jayne how the story of your engagement leaked so quickly? Maybe she ought to choose her best friends a little more carefully. Also, why don’t you ask her how much money her idiot of a mother got for her tell-all? Fucking hell, Will, in one weekend your bloody girlfriend has undone all the good work I’ve done in six months.’

  ‘Jayne’s mother? I don’t understand?’ He looked across to Jayne, who had paled and was staring at the road in front of them, her eyes wide and her hand pressed to her mouth. ‘Look, I’m nearly at home now. I’ll call you back in a bit.’

  ‘Don’t you dare cut me–’ he hung up and Jayne could see that his knuckles were white where he was gripping the steering wheel so hard.

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on. Let’s just get home, talk to Rachel and see what’s happening. It’s all going to be okay. There’s nothing that can’t be sorted out.’ He looked over at her. ‘Jayne, say something.’

  Her voice was almost a whisper, ‘She said that Abi and Crystal have done tell-alls.’

  ‘Look, like I said, we don’t know what we’re dealing with until we get home. Do you even want to go home? If there are photographers there, we can go to a hotel if you prefer. Tell me now, because we’re almost there. What do you want to do?’

  ‘Home. I want to be at home.’

  They parked the car round the back of the deli, in the parking space ordinarily reserved for the delivery vans. The back door of the deli was locked, which was unusual for a Sunday afternoon – it was normally propped open to invite the fresh air into the compact kitchen at the back while they did all the prep for the week ahead. Will called Bernard on his mobile to signal their arrival. As soon as the door opened, Bernard quickly ushered them inside, bolting the door immediately behind them.

  ‘Bernard, what’s going on?’

  ‘Right, well it turns out you two are rather popular today. Out the front is a bit of a rugby scrum, I’m afraid. Not a brain between them, though no one has figured out that shops also have a rear entrance, so you’re in luck getting in without the blighters knowing. I’ve put the ‘closed’ sign up I’m afraid, Chef, they were all crowding in with no room for customers, and so I made an executive decision and shut up shop. Hope that’s okay?’

  ‘I’m going upstairs to see Rachel,’ Jayne said, giving Bernard the briefest of nods before slipping past him to the stairs.

  ‘I’m coming too. Bernard, you’ve been brilliant, sorry about all this.’ Will put an arm around Bernard’s shoulders and guided him towards the back door. ‘Go home, no point being here today, we’ll figure it all out tomorrow. Sorry again.’

  Jayne couldn’t stop retching. Rachel rubbed her back with one hand and held her hair back with the other. ‘That’s it, just let it out.’ Jayne eventually sat back on the tiles, leaning against the bath, legs stretched out in front of her.

  ‘Why?’ She finally asked. ‘Why would they say those things?’

  ‘I don’t know, darling girl, I don’t know. Because they’re jealous? Because people are just mean?’

  ‘How am I going to face anyone again after this?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve done nothing wrong!’ Rachel tenderly brushed a curl out of her sister’s eye. ‘You do need to speak to Abi, though.’

  ‘I can’t. Not after this.’

  ‘But she’s beside herself with worry. She’s called me hundreds of times. She came straight round here after it happened, she feels so guilty.’

  ‘So she should.’

  ‘It’s not her fault. She was in bed with him when you called and of course she was so excited and told him. She had no idea that he’d then sell the story.’

  ‘But she knew he was a dick and she hasn’t even seen him for months. I don’t understand …’

  ‘Apparently they bumped into each other the night before in a pub, they went home together for old times’ sake, or something crap like that, and then were still at it when you called the next day with your news. He quickly made some excuse as to why he had to leave and called the papers from outside her flat. It’s not her fault. She’s your best friend; you need to call her.’

  ‘So then it took all of what, an hour, before our darling mother jumped on the gravy train?’ Jayne muttered bitterly. Her head hurt with trying to piece the puzzle together. Apparently, after Dirk’s revelation, complete with blurry photos from his camera phone that he’d taken of Jayne and Will at a barbecue last summer, articles had run in all the tabloids asking for information about the woman who’d managed to pin the elusive Will Scarlet down.

  A motley selection of acquaintances had crawled out of the metaphorical woodwork, eager to exchange some juice-less titbits about Jayne for a few hundred pounds. The girl she used to work with in the bookshop when she was at school – Sara something – was one of the first. Jayne vaguely remembered her appearing on her Facebook feed a while back. She hardly knew her, but felt that she ought to make more of an effort reconnecting with people from her past, and as she was one of the few girls who hadn’t gone out of their way to ignore her, she accepted her friend request. That was a mistake. She’d obviously passed on Jayne’s profile picture to the papers too. Jayne thanked God that she was a decade too old to be part of the selfie-generation, or there would be so many more pictures littering the tabloids that day.

  A couple of guys she’d had instantly forgettable fumbles with at university had also exchanged heavily embellished versions of their liaisons for a few quid. Blurry pictures of her wearing high-waisted jeans holding bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale ran alongside quotes like, ‘She was an animated lover, who had a lot of books in her room.’ Hold the front page, Jayne had thought bitterly as she’d scanned through the pile of papers Rachel had reluctantly shown her.

  The reality was that Jayne actually had a pretty unblemished past. She’d never been in trouble with the school or the police; didn’t have a crack-cocaine or meths habit she battled hard to conceal, and there was no string of unsuitable ex-lovers standing in the wings with their tales of debauched sado-masochistic sex sessions in dungeons. The reporters had very little to fill their column inches with. That was until Crystal stepped up to the tape-recorder.

  ‘Hey, baby,’ Will said sympathetically, stepping gingerly over her and Rachel’s legs as he entered the bathroom. ‘I got you a gin and tonic that’s pretty easy on the tonic and a water; I didn’t know which one you might need. How are you doing?’

  ‘Just peachy,’ Jayne replied stony-faced, stretching out for both glasses.

  ‘Have you read Crystal’s article yet?’

  ‘No. I’m saving that for when I’ve had a few more of these,’ she said, lifting the G&T up. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Yes. And I don’t think you should read it. Just forget about her now. You’ve given her way too many chances and this should just be the end of it.’

  ‘But what about all the other stories?’ Jayne leant her head back on the rim of the bath and closed her eyes. ‘Yesterday I was the happiest person in the world and now I just feel like shutting the bathroom door and never coming out.’

  ‘There’s nothing in any of the other stories to make you look anything other than a very normal person. Seriousl
y, darling, it’s what? A few people who sat next to you in your GCSE history class, and a couple of college boyfriends. Although judging by your fashion sense in the late nineties you were rather lucky to get those,’ Will nudged her, trying to coax a smile out of her.

  ‘That’s pretty much what every comment at the end of the article said too,’ Jayne muttered angrily.

  ‘There’s not one person who didn’t go through a dodgy- looking stage in their teens. Apart from me,’ Rachel added, totally misjudging her sister’s ability to see the funny side of any of this yet. ‘And everyone knows that the only people that comment on these stories are people that have way too much time on their hands.’

  ‘But that’s just it, they weren’t just commenting on pictures of me back then. One website ran a picture of Will and me at that book launch we went to a few weeks ago with a caption calling me a Big Friendly Giant. I actually thought I looked quite nice that night, so if they think I look like that then, what hope in hell do I have any other time?’

  ‘The BFG. That’s a literary reference, surely the English teacher in you is slightly impressed by that?’

  ‘Will! They’re talking about me! I’m the BFG. So no. I’m not impressed by that. I got called that at school too and frickin’ hated it.’ Jayne gulped back the last mouthful of gin. ‘And almost every one of those articles was laced with the same thread of ‘Really? Really? Will Scarlet chose that?’

  ‘They were not.’ Rachel admonished, ‘I’ve spent the whole weekend, since you two went on radio silence, reading everything published about you and the ones that you’re talking about are in the minority. Most are just intrigued that Will had been quite private about having a girlfriend, and now suddenly he’s getting married. Oh, congratulations by the way.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Jayne managed a small smile and subconsciously flexed her left hand where the two-carat diamond was weighing it down.

  ‘Oh my God, I haven’t even seen the ring! Jesus Christ, that’s huge!’