The news that P.J. was dating someone had left Nell with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt ridiculous. All that fuss she had made about the need to resist him! She had been so sure that he too was conscious of the surge and crackle of awareness between them, and she had been afraid that he would try and resurrect their relationship. Now it turned out that she could have spared herself the effort of worrying about it all!
P.J. hadn’t mentioned anyone, so she had just assumed that he didn’t have a girlfriend, but she should have known better. Of course a man like P.J. would have someone special in his life.
He had said that he wanted to see her, though, Nell reminded herself. But then, what did that mean? He might simply want to catch up on old times. It didn’t mean that he wanted to pick up where they had left off sixteen years ago, did it?
And now he had a date. P.J. was strictly a one-woman man, so obviously she really was just an old friend as far as P.J. was concerned. She ought to be pleased, Nell thought mournfully. Wasn’t it exactly what she had decided herself? She had been determined not to let him back into her life, and now it looked as if she wouldn’t have to. Everything was perfect.
Everything being perfect should have made things easier, but instead Nell felt even more awkward than before.
‘So…are you meeting someone nice?’ she managed at last.
‘Oh, yes,’ said P.J. and turned to smile his heart-stopping smile. ‘She’s the nicest person I know. And the most beautiful,’ he added.
‘She sounds lovely.’ Nell fixed on an answering smile so bright it made her jaw ache. ‘Lucky you.’
‘I hope so.’
She turned slightly in her seat to look at him in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m not sure how she feels about me,’ said P.J. carefully.
She was probably head over heels in love with him, thought Nell. How could she not be?
‘You should ask her,’ she said. That was the kind of advice one old friend gave to another, wasn’t it?
P.J. seemed very interested in her opinion. ‘Do you really think so?’
‘Of course.’ Nell managed a careless shrug, as if it didn’t make any difference to her one way or another. ‘At least then you’ll know where you are.’
‘But what if she tells me she doesn’t love me?’
Inside Nell, it felt as if a cold hand were clamped around her heart, squeezing it so painfully that it was hard to breathe. ‘It’s better if you’re both honest about how you feel, isn’t it?’ she managed.
‘That’s the thing,’ said P.J. ‘I don’t think she has been entirely honest with me so far.’
‘Why not?’
‘She’s been hurt,’ he said slowly. ‘She doesn’t trust me.’
‘Perhaps she doesn’t trust herself,’ said Nell, concentrating on breathing in and out and on not thinking about the pain in her heart at the knowledge of how deeply P.J. loved the new woman in his life.
P.J. glanced at her thoughtfully. ‘I think you might be right, Nell,’ he said. ‘How can I make her trust me, though?’
Nell’s throat hurt with the effort of not crying. ‘You need to be patient, that’s all.’
‘It’s hard being patient,’ he said.
‘I know, but if you really love her, she’s worth it, isn’t she?’ Her voice cracked slightly at the end, and she looked fiercely out of the passenger window.
‘Oh, yes,’ said P.J. ‘She’s worth everything.’
Nell couldn’t see his expression, but she could hear the warmth and the tenderness in his voice, and the cruel grip on her heart tightened, but she made herself swallow and take a deep breath.
‘I’m so glad you’ve found someone you can love like that, P.J.,’ she said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. ‘I hope it works out for you.’
‘I hope so, too,’ he said. He glanced at her. ‘And thanks for your advice, Nell. That’s helped me a lot.’
‘Good.’ Nell’s smile wavered a little, but she forced it back into place. ‘I’m really happy for you.’
But she didn’t feel happy. She felt desolate at the thought of him loving someone else.
Why had he come back? She had been fine on her own, Nell thought bitterly. She had been bumbling along with Clara, missing having someone to hold sometimes, wishing there were someone to hold her when times were hard, but on the whole…she was OK. More than OK. She had been happy. Happyish, anyway.
And now P.J. had spoilt that. He had made her think about how empty her life was beyond Clara. He had made the future seem bleak and lonely, where before it had simply been more of the same. It had taken her years to bury her memories of him, but a single day to bring them all back. It was like waking up to find a dream being dangled tantalisingly in front of her, only to vanish the moment she thought about reaching for it and making it real, and now she felt sick with disappointment and yearning.
And these might be the last few minutes she would have with him, Nell realised with a spurt of panic. He had a new woman in his life, and there would be no reason for them to meet again.
She longed to touch P.J. one more time. She wanted to reach over and put her hand on his thigh, to lean across and press her lips to his throat. She wanted to make him stop and pull the car over and kiss her. She wanted to roll back time, to go back sixteen years and have her chance again, and this time she wouldn’t blow it. She would make the right choice.
But there was no going back, was there? Time only went one way.
The silence was excruciating. Nell was afraid that P.J. would hear her heart thumping, and the pounding of her pulse as she clutched her hands around the little bag to keep them from crawling across to him. The traffic was very heavy, and the journey seemed to take forever.
By the time they got to Trafalgar Square, Nell could stand it no longer.
‘I think it’ll be quicker for me if I walk from here,’ she said as the traffic light turned red once more.
‘But what about your feet?’ P.J. asked in concern. ‘It’s still quite a walk from here in those shoes.’
‘They’ll be fine,’ Nell insisted. ‘It’s not that far now, and I don’t want to keep John waiting any longer.’
‘Well, if you’re sure…’
Nell didn’t know whether to be relieved or sorry when P.J. made no further protest. His mind was obviously on the evening to come and the woman he loved.
‘I’m sure.’ She undid her seat belt with hands that trembled slightly and reached for the door handle. ‘I hope you won’t be late for your own date.’
P.J. glanced at his watch. ‘I think she’ll understand if I’m a few minutes late,’ he said, and a smile touched the corners of his mouth in a way that made Nell’s heart clench. ‘Anyone can see what the traffic is like tonight. You might even find that you get to your bar before John,’ he added. ‘But I’m sure that won’t be a problem. He sounds like a guy worth waiting for.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Nell, wishing she had never embarked on the whole John fantasy. Still, it was too late to put P.J. right now. ‘Yes, he is.’
She opened the door. ‘Well, good luck with everything,’ she said, as casually as she could.
‘You, too.’
The lights would change if she didn’t get on with it. It was all Nell could do to get out of the car and fix on a bright smile as she closed the door and bent to say goodbye through the open window. ‘Thanks again for the lift.’
P.J. smiled. ‘Goodbye, Nell,’ he said softly.
At the last moment, Nell’s brave smile slipped. ‘Goodbye,’ she said, a treacherous wobble in her voice, and she turned quickly and made herself walk away before he could see the tears in her eyes.
She was limping badly by the time she made it to the bar where she was to meet John, but in a strange way it was almost a comfort to concentrate on the pain in her feet rather than on the pain in her heart.
Never had she felt less like a blind date! The thought of sitting and trying to be friendl
y and interested in a man who, however nice he was, wasn’t P.J. made Nell feel more miserable than ever, but she was here now, and it wouldn’t be fair to John to just leave him sitting there.
The fairest thing would be to tell him straight that she was in love with somebody else, she realised. There was no point in pretending anything else. Thea would be cross with her, but if John was as nice as her sister had said, he would understand. He would probably rather be told the truth. Hadn’t she told P.J. that it was better to be honest about how you felt?
Nell looked at her watch. After all of that, she wasn’t as late as she had thought. Pushing open the door, she went in and hesitated just inside, looking around for anyone who looked as if he might be called John. The bar wasn’t too busy, and there were only two men there on their own, neither of whom looked old enough to be John. Nell tried not to look as if she was staring as she walked past the tables where they were sitting, but there was no sign of a Swahili dictionary, and, anyway, neither of them appeared to be looking for her.
The traffic was bad, though, as P.J. had pointed out. Maybe John was stuck somewhere. She had better give him a chance to turn up, anyway.
Choosing a seat where she could be seen from the door, Nell ordered herself a glass of wine and carefully put the Swahili phrase book in full view on the table in front of her. She would give John half an hour, and then she would go.
Normally Nell would have felt very conspicuous at being so obviously waiting for a blind date, but right then she didn’t care about anything other than the fact that she had just said goodbye to P.J. again. How was she going to bear it?
For something to do, she picked up the phrase book and studied it dully, but it was too full of the memories that P.J. had brought back so vividly. She thought about the good times they had had, the dreams they had dreamed together, and just for a moment she let herself imagine what it would have been like if she hadn’t chosen Simon.
But she had, and she had to take responsibility for that. Nobody had made her choose him, she had done that herself. She had made a mistake, and she had to live with it. In so many ways she was lucky, Nell reminded herself. Clara was healthy and happy. She had loving family and friends, a place to live, and a good job.
She just didn’t have P.J.
Well, she had managed without him before and she would manage without him again…but, oh, it was going to be so much harder now. In spite of her determination to keep up a good face, a tear trickled down Nell’s nose and she brushed it angrily away just as a Swahili dictionary was laid quietly on the table in front of her.
CHAPTER TEN
‘I’ M SORRY I’m late.’
Nell stared at the hand on the dictionary, riveted by the whiteness of the cuff against brown skin, by the gleam of gold cufflinks and the fine dark hairs at the broad male wrist. Very, very slowly, her stunned grey gaze travelled up the sleeve of the dinner jacket, along the shoulder and up at last to the face that went with the voice.
P.J.
Still in thrall to utter disbelief, she dropped her eyes down to the dictionary as if to confirm it was what she thought it was, and then lifted them back to his face.
‘You?’ she whispered.
‘Peter John,’ P.J. reminded her. He pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her. ‘Janey and Thea decided you wouldn’t come if you knew it was me, so they used my second name instead.’
Nell sat mouse-still, staring at him like an owl, hardly daring to believe what was happening, and too stunned to understand anything beyond the fact that suddenly, miraculously, he was there. She felt almost frightened, as if she had conjured him up by the power of her longing and he weren’t quite real.
‘I thought I was coming to meet someone called Helen,’ P.J. went on, more unnerved by her silence than he wanted to admit. ‘Why didn’t I know that about you? I didn’t realise Nell was an abbreviation of Helen, although I know that’s not why you’re called Nell…’
He could hear himself burbling nervously and made himself stop. ‘I’m talking too much,’ he acknowledged, and looked straight into Nell’s beautiful grey eyes. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked simply.
‘Mind?’ echoed Nell, although the word came out as barely more than a croak.
‘That it’s me, instead of another John?’
The uncertainty in his expression broke the spell that held Nell motionless. This wasn’t a dream. This was a real man, unsure of himself after all, and she gave something between a laugh and a sob, and shook her head.
‘No,’ she said, smiling through the tears that brimmed her eyes, ‘I don’t mind.’
P.J. reached out and took her hands in his, holding them tightly across the table in a warm, firm grasp. ‘I’m glad,’ he said. ‘Part of me was afraid that you would be angry.’
‘I should be,’ said Nell, but fingers were twining round his. ‘But not with you. I presume this is Thea and Janey’s doing?’
‘They set it up between them, apparently. After they got in touch on that internet site, Janey couldn’t wait to tell Thea her favourite theory about me.’
‘What theory is that?’
‘The one that says that I’d never got over you,’ said P.J. with a rueful smile. ‘Ever since I came back to London, and she discovered from Thea that you were divorced, Janey’s been going on and on at me to get in touch with you, but I was afraid of raking up the past. I thought it would be better to leave things as they were…and then I saw you this morning, and I realised that Janey had been right all along, which of course she’s absolutely delighted about!’
Nell couldn’t help laughing at his expression. ‘Thea will be unbearable, too. She’s been doing the same thing. Why didn’t I contact you? Why didn’t I give you a ring and just say hello? You can imagine! And the more she talked about you, the more I refused to see you.’
‘Were you anxious about the past, too?’ asked P.J., and she thought about it a while.
‘That was part of it, of course, but mainly I was really intimidated because I’d heard that you were so rich and successful. It just seemed like we had different lives now and that it would be better to keep them that way.’
‘I know what you mean,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘It’s as if we’ve been on separate paths, that have gone off in different directions, and twisted and turned, but still somehow been meant to bring us back together today. We’ll let our sisters think it was down to them, but, really, I think we’d have met anyway. I think that was the way it was meant to be.’
‘I wonder,’ said Nell, thinking about what he had said. ‘Certainly the first two meetings today had nothing to do with Thea or Janey, did they?’
‘No, and the third time was me deciding to take a hand in my own affairs,’ said P.J. with a grin. ‘I thought fate had done enough and it was up to me to get you back-although, as it turned out, I could have left it to my sister!’
Nell smiled, and he released her hands at last. She took a sip of her wine, conscious of the tension slowly trickling away from her spine and her shoulders. ‘When did you know that it was me you were meeting tonight?’
‘Not until you dropped your bag. All Janey would tell me about the blind date she’d set me up on was that I was to meet a divorced friend of hers called-she said-Helen, who was very nice and I’d know her because she’d have a Swahili phrase book with her. When I saw that it had fallen out of your bag, I felt…’
P.J. trailed off, trying to find the right words to explain how everything had suddenly fallen into place, and the world had lifted from his shoulders. ‘I can’t describe how I felt.’ He gave up at last. ‘When I dropped you at Trafalgar Square, I rang Janey and asked her straight out if it was you I was supposed to be meeting, and she confessed.’
‘Why on earth didn’t they just tell us?’ grumbled Nell.
‘I think they thought that we would bottle out if we knew what they were planning.’
‘I probably would have done,’ she conceded reluctantly, ‘but at least it might have saved
me making a colossal fool of myself! I’m going to kill Thea when I see her! You must have thought I was an idiot, pretending that I’d found the perfect man in John!’
‘I’m just relieved that he’s turned out to be me, to be honest,’ said P.J. with a crooked smile. ‘The thought of him gave me some bad moments! I was pretty jealous of him.’
Nell put down her glass in surprise. ‘Surely you guessed that he wasn’t real?’
‘Only after I saw the phrase book. He sounded so perfect, so exactly what you wanted. I had no reason to believe that he wasn’t real.’
She flushed, remembering the fibs she had told. ‘I don’t know why I made up all that about him,’ she said, twisting the stem of the glass between her fingers. ‘I suppose I didn’t want you to think that I was just a sad divorcee.’
It was P.J.’s turn to look surprised. ‘There was no chance of that, Nell! Why on earth would I think that? There you were, with a lovely daughter, a good job and-it seemed-a great man. It looked to me as if you had your life under perfect control.’
‘Whereas in fact I’m chaotic and clumsy, with daughter who bosses me around and an imaginary lover,’ said Nell, amused at the very idea of her having her life under control. If only!
‘I know better now,’ P.J. agreed solemnly. ‘I’ll admit it was a relief to discover that you weren’t quite as perfect as you seemed at first.’ Smiling, he lifted his hand to trace the line of her cheek with infinite tenderness. ‘Although you’ll always be pretty perfect to me,’ he said softly.
‘Oh, P.J…’ Sudden tears trembled on Nell’s lashes. ‘How can you say that when I hurt you so much? I was so stupid about Simon,’ she told him. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I hurt you, too,’ he pointed out gently. ‘I should have paid you more attention when you needed it. I was too busy thinking about the future when I should have been listening to you and what you wanted in the present.’
Reaching for her hand, he closed his fingers around hers firmly. ‘That’s the thing about relationships. It takes two to make it, two to break it. It wasn’t just you, Nell. At least you were honest with me. You told me as soon as you realised that you were attracted to Simon, and that must have taken guts. It didn’t help that I went off the deep end. If I’d been older, I might have stuck it out, and given you some space to think about things instead of ending it all there and then.’
Here Comes The Bride Page 16
