The Pollyanna Plan

by Talli Roland

  Will had listened to Cherie’s excited babble about what she’d buy with the signing bonus—there was a new Chanel handbag just in at Harvey Nichol’s she had her eye on—then told her he had some news of his own. He could still picture the widening of her eyes as he explained what the doctor had said, her glossed lips falling open when he outlined the symptoms that led him to be checked out in the first place. Instead of throwing her slender arms around him and providing longed-for comfort, Cherie had remained frozen, staring at him in horror. Finally, she’d recovered enough to clutch his hand and tell him in a numb voice they’d get through it together, then exclaimed she’d forgotten about meeting a friend and fled the scene.

  A strained two months had followed, during which Cherie had pleaded with him not to leave his job at the factory and nagged him to return once he had quit. Eventually, she’d told him she couldn’t be with him any longer. It had almost been a relief.

  ‘What do you think, mate?’ Chaz nudged his arm. ‘I’d give the blonde a go. Alice, is it?’ He put a childlike tick next to her name on the card in front of him. ‘She won’t be a virgin when she’s done with me.’ Will glanced at the two women who were now smiling and bowing. Although Alice was beautiful with that mass of blonde hair—he glanced at the form on the table—Emma was more his type: slender with a dark cap of wavy locks, wearing simple jeans and a black top that fit like a glove. He liked how she’d described the blue shade with almost a painterly precision and that she’d wanted something different. And from her performance onstage, it was obvious she didn’t take herself too seriously. Cherie wouldn’t have done karaoke in a million years.

  ‘Yeah, she’s fit all right,’ Will answered lamely, thinking he was out of practice being blokey. It was funny: he’d reckoned by going out with a group of mates from his past—people who’d no idea of his illness—he could forget it existed, too. But the knowledge dogged him at every turn, weighing him down. Maybe another drink will help, he thought, lifting his bottle and draining it.

  ‘Who wants more? This round is on me.’

  As the music came to a stop and applause rang around the room, Emma and Alice stepped off the stage.

  ‘Wasn’t that a blast?’ Alice’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes glowed. She tossed back her fringe and nodded at the other tables as they passed.

  Emma laughed, shaking her head. ‘You know, it actually was. But why did you push me out front? Thank goodness the crowd joined in, or I would have cleared the place.’

  Alice shrugged. ‘You certainly seemed to be enjoying it once you were out there. It was a brilliant idea to get everyone singing along. We’ll be the best of the night!’ She eyed the large group of men they’d spotted earlier. ‘I hope one of them marked me down.’

  Oh, God. In the heat of the moment, Emma had forgotten about Will seeing her. He definitely had by now. Her heart flipped—maybe he’d circled her name? Don’t be silly, she told herself. The last thing she wanted was to hit the stage again in a cringe-worthy duet with a guy she hardly knew. She glanced in Will’s direction, but he was nowhere to be seen. Good. Maybe he’d been able to escape, lucky man.

  ‘I’m heading to the bar. Another wine?’ The earlier drinks were only starting to kick in, and Emma was in dire need for more.

  Alice nodded. ‘Yes, please!’ Plopping into her seat, she smiled flirtatiously at the group of men Will had been sitting with.

  Emma pushed between the tables towards the beacon of the bar. ‘A glass of Cabernet and…’ Her voice trailed off as she realised she wanted something much, much stronger than wine to get her through the rest of the evening. ‘Er, a double whisky on the rocks, please.’

  ‘Coming up,’ the bartender said.

  ‘You’ve got the right idea, ordering a double. Reckon it’s the only thing that’ll make this night bearable.’

  A low male voice in her ear made Emma turn. There, just beside her, was Will—she hadn’t even noticed him in her desperation for a drink. He was so close, she could sense the heat from his body and smell his fresh cologne, a welcome change from the pervading mildewy odour of the bar.

  ‘Oh! Hi!’ Emma tried to feign surprise at seeing him here.

  ‘That was quite the performance up there.’ His voice was even, but Emma thought she could see a spark of humour in his eyes. ‘I’d never have guessed when I met you earlier you’d be into karaoke.’

  ‘Yeah, well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,’ she mumbled, cursing herself for the insipid response. What the hell did that even mean?

  ‘My friend dragged me here,’ Emma said in an attempt to explain, nodding towards Alice, now merrily chatting away to a man back at their table. ‘It was a present, so I couldn’t really turn it down.’

  ‘Quite the present.’ Will chuckled.

  They stood in silence for a minute as the organiser announced the next two men, who clambered onstage to begin a painful rendition of Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’.

  Will winced as one of the duo attempted a falsetto. ‘What do you say we head outside for some air? I could use a break from this,’ he said, leaning down to speak into Emma’s ear. His warm breath made the hairs on her arms stand up, and she patted them down again.

  ‘Okay.’ She’d leave with Jack the Ripper if it meant escaping the torturous sounds piercing her eardrums. Emma glanced over at Alice, now completely absorbed in her conversation with the man. Her friend wouldn’t miss her for a second or two.

  Clutching her glass, Emma followed Will’s broad back across the room and up the stairs, trying not to stare at his well-formed bottom in the loose-fitting jeans. Outside, the street was even busier, packed full of people drinking and chattering.

  Will leaned against the wall of the building, away from the noise of the crowd. ‘That’s better. So, how’s the paint? Have you had a chance to use it yet?’

  Emma sipped her whisky, trying not to wince as the liquid burned its way down her throat. She hadn’t tried it since forever, preferring to go with the milder—and less liver-damaging—wine. But what the heck, a little whisky was nothing compared to conquering karaoke! She risked taking a gulp and started sputtering.

  ‘Whoa!’ Will put a steadying hand on her back. ‘You okay?’

  Shivering, Emma tried not to notice the heat of his hand seeping through the thin fabric of her top.

  ‘It is kind of cold out here, isn’t it?’ Will said. ‘We can go back inside if you want.’

  Emma shook her head. Little did he know, she wasn’t shivering from the cold. ‘No, that’s okay. You were right—it’s good to give our eardrums a break.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Yes, I managed to finish one wall, and the colour is fantastic. Just the shade I wanted.’

  ‘Only one wall?’ Will asked. ‘If something’s wrong, I’d be happy to have another go. Many goes, in fact, until we get the right shade.’

  ‘It’s perfect, but I’d planned on an accent wall.’ She sipped her drink again, wondering what else to say. This time, the liquid swirled pleasantly down her throat, warming her belly. The street was starting to take on a hazy glow that meant the alcohol was finally working, thank God.

  ‘Those accent walls are rubbish,’ Will said firmly. ‘“In for a penny, in for a pound,” my dad always says. You need to paint the whole room to get a sense of how the colour affects the mood of the place.’

  Emma smiled. Her father used to say the same thing, too, usually when it came to eating cake. One piece was never enough, he’d proclaim, and if you were going to indulge, you might as well go all the way.

  ‘There you are!’ Alice burst out of the club, a brimming goblet of wine in one hand and a dazzled-looking man in the other. Emma jerked as she realised in her hurry to escape, she’d left her friend’s glass on the bar. Oops.

  ‘Emma, this is Chaz. Chaz, Emma!’ Under the influence of multiple drinks, Alice’s voice rang loudly around the packe
d street, and cries of ‘Hi, Emma! Hi, Chaz!’ echoed up and down the pavement. Emma couldn’t resist laughing and waggling her fingers in response.

  ‘Hey, mate.’ Chaz clapped Will on the back, giving Emma an appraising look. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to.’

  ‘Ems, we’ve been invited to join the stag do!’ Alice said, her eyes bright. ‘Unless you’d like to stick around here?’

  Emma shuddered. ‘No way. But Al, we can’t crash the guys’ night.’

  ‘Sure you can,’ Chaz responded. ‘Come on, we’re off to Tiger Tiger next. We can use you girls to draw in others.’ He winked playfully, ignoring Alice’s jab.

  ‘Please come,’ Will said. ‘I need someone halfway sane to keep me company with the rest of these crazies.’

  Emma gazed around the crowded street, full of people having fun and embracing life.

  ‘Why not,’ she said, grinning into Alice’s hopeful face and linking arms with her best friend. ‘Let’s get this party started.’

  Hours later, the party was still going. Clunking up the stairs to Alice’s flat, Emma smiled as she recalled the events of the evening: leaving karaoke speed dating and crossing Piccadilly to Tiger Tiger, where champagne poured with abandon…then being carried (yes, carried!) down Carnaby Street and into Kingly Court, with yet more drinks consumed…the bar at Sketch, where Alice stole the doorman’s bowler hat…squeezing next to Will during a near-lethal rickshaw ride.…

  Finally, they’d all piled into a taxi to Alice’s, decidedly worse for wear. Although a mammoth hangover awaited her the next morning, Emma couldn’t recall ever having such a great night out. Well, minus the karaoke—and even that had bordered on fun, she had to concede.

  ‘Another drink?’ Alice asked as they squeezed onto the sofa. Next to her, Emma could feel the warmth of Will’s leg, and despite their easy camaraderie of the past few hours, her heart beat fast at his closeness.

  Will shook his head. ‘No, thanks. In fact’—he looked at his watch, and Emma admired the perfect sprinkling of hair on his forearms—‘I should make a move.’

  Chaz glanced quickly from Emma to Will. ‘I’ll come see what you’ve got for drinks in the kitchen,’ he said to Alice, making a hasty departure to give them some privacy to say goodbye.

  Will cleared his throat as silence descended in the cramped lounge. ‘Well. It was really nice to see you again.’

  ‘Nice to see you, too,’ Emma said, her own throat feeling dry as she stared into his dark eyes. Despite the protests that she wanted no men in her life since she’d recently broken up with George, she couldn’t deny Will appealed in a way her ex never had. Suddenly, she realised she didn’t want to end the night with Will just walking out the door.

  Well, if she could get up on stage and karaoke, she could ask a man out. What was that annoying expression optimists always used? ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained’?

  ‘Maybe you can come over tomorrow and help me paint the rest of the walls? I’d love some expert assistance,’ Emma blurted, aware her cheeks were now the colour of an overripe strawberry. Oh, God. Had she really just asked Will over to paint? He probably thought ‘paint’ was a euphemism for something else. Her face flamed redder, picturing them alone in her flat. Why, O why, hadn’t she suggested a sterile dinner, like she and George always had?

  Emma opened her mouth to revise the plan, but Will was already nodding.

  ‘Sure, all right. I’d love to see the colour in an actual room. And I bet with the two of us, we can finish off the remaining walls in under an hour.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ Emma responded weakly, staring at the dusty floor to hide her burning face. ‘Why don’t you come over around one? It’ll give us time to work off our hangovers. Tell me your number, and I’ll text you my address. I’m in Little Venice.’

  ‘Really? I’m in that area too, right by the canal.’ Will recited his phone number, and she entered it with difficulty into the phone. All that alcohol didn’t exactly aid accuracy.

  Will got to his feet, swaying slightly. Emma hid a smile—it was nice to see she wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the night. ‘I’ll be off, then. Please say goodbye to Alice and Chaz for me.’ By the slurping sounds emanating from the kitchen, they’d progressed well beyond drinks.

  Smoothing back her unruly hair, Emma stood, too. What she wouldn’t give for a mirror right about now! She could only imagine the state of her makeup.

  ‘Okay.’ She faced him uncertainly, nerves fluttering in her belly. ‘Well, er… ’bye.’

  Will smiled, his eyes crinkling up in the way she was beginning to love. ‘’Bye. I’ll see you tomorrow—or rather, today.’ As he leaned over to kiss her cheek, Emma breathed in the scent of his lemony cologne, feeling the scratch of his stubble against her skin. A wave of desire washed over her and she pulled back, the intensity of emotion jolting her into action.

  ‘Good night,’ she croaked out as Will shrugged on his coat, lifted a hand, and closed the door behind him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘Wakey, wakey!’ Alice’s chipper voice rang from the kitchen like a hammer battering the softest part of Emma’s skull. ‘Come on, I’ve got just the thing to help hangovers. Full English!’

  Groaning, Emma slowly raised herself into the sitting position. Every muscle in her body ached like she’d run a marathon, and she couldn’t raise her eyelids more than halfway. Glancing around the room from her precarious perch on Alice’s sofa, she took in the empty wine glasses and half-smoked cigarillos— had she smoked ?

  What time was it, anyway? Forcing her eyes wide open, she rummaged in her handbag until her fingers closed around the mobile. Oh, a voice mail. Who could that be? Probably Will calling to cancel, she thought, before remembering she was supposed to be positive. Ah well, it was way too early for Pollyanna.

  Sighing, Emma punched in the access code. There was a pause, then her mother’s voice echoed down the line. ‘Just calling to check in. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. We’d love to have you and George over for dinner sometime.’

  Emma’s heart dropped. She still hadn’t filled in her mum on George or the minor detail that she was now unemployed. And when was the last time she’d visited the house? She couldn’t even remember.

  ‘By the way, I found a whole load of your old sketchbooks when I was cleaning out a cupboard upstairs. I’ve popped them in the post to you.’

  Emma’s mind flashed to the hours she’d spent sprawled on the bed, drawing. She’d loved the satisfying scratch of the pencil on the pad, the way she could pour visions from her head and onto the paper, bringing them to life. It’d be cool to flip through those pages again, as if she could see inside her younger self.

  ‘Your father was so proud of your talent,’ the message continued. ‘He used to say you’d be the next great architect or designer.’ Her mother’s voice caught, and Emma jerked in surprise. This was the first time in ages her mum had mentioned her dad. Usually, he was a no-go area.

  What would he think of how her life had turned out? He’d be impressed at her accomplishments, but he’d always said people shouldn’t live to work—they should work to live. Emma definitely hadn’t followed that mantra. Well, except for last night. She winced as pain pounded her temples.

  ‘Ems! Come on, eat your breakfast before it gets cold!’ Alice’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and Emma clicked off the phone. She’d call her mother later.

  ‘I’m feeling a bit delicate today,’ she said to Alice, creaking her way slowly into the kitchen. The smell of bacon and coffee made her stomach turn over.

  Alice shook her head. ‘Mate, last night was epic. God, if I’d known going out with you could be that much fun, I would have instituted this Pollyanna thing sooner!’

  ‘Morning, ladies.’ Chaz sauntered out of Alice’s room, and Emma’s eyes widened. She glanced over at Alice, who was wearing a smug expressi
on. ‘So, are you going to see my mate Will again?’ Chaz asked, leaning on the counter and crunching his way through a rasher of bacon.

  ‘He’s coming over this afternoon to help me finish painting,’ Emma responded, her cheeks colouring.

  Chaz chortled. ‘Finish painting? That’s a new one! Guess Will hasn’t lost his touch with the ladies.’

  ‘No, it really is just painting,’ Emma protested, knowing how feeble she sounded against the knowing expressions of Chaz and Alice. ‘You and Will have been friends for a while?’

  Chaz nodded, slinging an arm around Alice’s waist. ‘Yes. Ever since university, actually. Our whole group did business management up in Durham.’

  ‘Business management?’ Emma asked in surprise. How had Will gone from majoring in business management at university to working in the paint department of a DIY centre? ‘What did Will do after graduating?’

  ‘Got a job with his father, and that was the last I heard.’ Chaz shrugged. ‘We lost touch for a bit after university. We’ve only reconnected recently on Facebook, and I thought it’d be a blast to meet up again for Ryan’s stag do.’

  Will’s dad worked at Home & Hearth, too? Emma nodded, disappointed Chaz didn’t seem to know much more about Will than she did. ‘Right, I’d better get going.’ She couldn’t wait to head home, take three ibuprofen, and stretch out on the bed for a quick nap before Will arrived.

  ‘You’re not staying for breakfast?’ Alice’s face fell.

  ‘No, I’ll leave you both to enjoy that.’ Emma tried not to gag as she looked at the array of fried food swimming in oil.

  ‘Let me know how it goes with Will!’ Alice raised her eyebrows suggestively, and Emma’s face flushed for the umpteenth time since last night. What was it about that man that made her continually go crimson? She couldn’t remember ever blushing with George. In a strange kind of way, she was proud of herself for taking the next step to see Will again, even if it was making her super nervous. After last night’s antics, she was looking forward to learning more about him.