by Jill Mansell
“Let them watch. I don’t care.”
Excited on the inside but determined not to show it, Lily said, “Well, you might not have a reputation to keep up, but some of us do.”
Chapter 26
“You made it back, then,” Dan remarked when Lily came into the office at five to ten.
Was she glowing? Lily felt as if she might be glowing. Oh, but it was so hard to play it cool when you had this much adrenaline sloshing around in your system.
“Of course I made it back.” Reaching for the charger on the desk, she plugged in her phone. “I said I would, didn’t I? What are you doing here anyway?”
“Coral called me an hour ago. She couldn’t get through to you and was worried in case you’d been held up. I offered to come over and help out. I know I can’t do much,” he added as Lily opened her mouth to protest, “but I can man the phone, deal with emails, and print out receipts.”
“Why would I not turn up? Have I ever let anyone down before? I forgot my charger and my phone’s dead, that’s all. I could have stayed longer in London if I’d wanted to,” Lily added, “but I didn’t, because I’m reliable. And when I make a promise, I keep it. You know I do.”
They stared at each other in silence. Whoops, was it the look in Dan’s eyes or her own surfeit of adrenaline making her defensive? Why was she suddenly feeling guilty, for heaven’s sake?
Finally he said, “Did you have a nice time?”
Lily exhaled. “Yes, I did. I had an amazing time.”
“What was the movie like?”
“Great!” OK, it hadn’t been that great for her, what with it being sci-fi, but that was beside the point. “And afterward we went back to the hotel with Mira Knowles, had pizza in her suite, and played word games.”
“Rock and roll,” said Dan. “And what happened after that?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Did you sleep with him?”
“Well, that’s none of your business,” Lily said.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
“And so what if I did?”
“Nothing. I just thought you’d have had more sense. Because all he was doing was using you.”
“Oh, we’re back to this again, are we?” Why couldn’t Dan be happy for her? Why was he being like this, trying to spoil everything? “Except maybe you’ve got it the wrong way around, and I’m the one using him.”
Before Dan could reply, the door swung open and Coral exclaimed, “You’re back! Oh my God, can you believe you’re on the front page of the paper? I screamed when I saw it!”
“Am I really?” Lily was startled. “I haven’t seen it. I mean, Eddie said it might happen, but I thought he was joking.”
“Show her!” Coral nodded excitedly at the newspaper lying facedown beside the computer, and Dan pushed it across the desk toward Lily. Her eyes widened further still when she saw the photos and read the accompanying piece.
“You definitely chose the right dress. You looked fantastic.” Coral was bubbling with enthusiasm. “And there’s more on the next page! Everyone was wondering who on earth you were! It says you kept giving them different names, and it just made them all the more interested, and now they want to know if you’re Eddie’s new girlfriend!”
The next moment, Lily’s plugged-in phone began to ring, and she saw that the caller was Eddie.
“Hi.” Her eyes felt as if they were actually sparkling as she listened to him. “I know, my phone died. I’ve only just seen it now.”
After a bit longer she said, “Me too. Definitely.”
Then a short time after that: “Sounds great… Yes, I know… Of course I do… That’d be perfect… Yes, we will… Brilliant, can’t wait. Bye… Yes, OK. Bye.” She finally hung up, aware that she was smiling like a lunatic.
“Wrong number?” said Dan.
She said, “I’d call it the right number. Eddie’s coming down here tomorrow evening to see me.”
“Oh, my goodness.” Coral clasped her hands together. “You really like him, I can tell!”
Lily nodded. “I do,” she said simply.
Dan had turned his attention to the computer and was apparently engrossed in the words he was reading on the screen.
“Anyway, I’m back now,” Lily went on cheerfully. “You don’t need to be here anymore, looking all superior and disapproving.” With a flourish, she handed Dan the crutch he’d left propped up against the desk. “You can go.”
* * *
OK, so it had been a slightly odd experience, having a first date under the discreet but watchful gaze of your ex-husband. On the other hand, it had meant she hadn’t needed to drive anywhere, and at least the food had been guaranteed to be good.
It was just a shame that the date himself had chatted with so many women online that he’d gotten Patsy’s details muddled up with those of another divorcée who definitely didn’t want children at some stage in the future. After that, he couldn’t get away fast enough, evidently terrified that she might force him to impregnate her before the night was out.
He’d also meticulously divided their dinner bill, according to what each of them had eaten, and announced with pride that he wouldn’t be tipping because he didn’t believe in tips.
“Oh well, at least you didn’t find out a year from now.” Sean had beckoned for her to join him at the bar after the dreamboat had left. “You haven’t wasted any time on him.”
Patsy made a face. Apart from this evening. Her friend Finola had invited her to an impromptu barbecue in Chipping Norton, and Patsy had had to say she couldn’t make it because she already had a date. She wondered what the evening might have been like if she’d gone to Finola’s instead. What if the perfect man for her was there, wishing he could meet the perfect woman for him?
Not that there was any way of ever knowing the answer to that question. It was too late to go over there now.
“Cheer up. Have a drink,” said Sean, opening the wine fridge. “Chablis?”
Chablis was her favorite. Patsy shook her head. “Thanks, but it’s OK.”
No one else was currently in earshot. Sean said, “Don’t let it get you down. Have you given any more thought to…you know, what we talked about before?”
“Of course I’ve thought about it.” She smiled faintly. “It’s not the kind of offer you forget about.”
“And?”
“I just don’t know. I mean, it’s nice to know it’s there…”
“OK, I don’t think we mentioned it before, but in case you were wondering, if you did decide you liked the idea, we’d prefer to go the turkey baster route.” Sean lowered his voice and added, “You know, rather than…au naturel.”
“Oh! Yes, of course. I hadn’t even thought of doing it that way,” said Patsy. “I’d assumed it’d be turkey baster from the word go.”
“Right. Well, that’s good. So long as we both know how it would happen. But like we said before, no pressure.” Sean gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Plenty of time to decide.”
Patsy nodded. Of course she’d prefer to have a baby with a partner of her own, someone who loved her for herself. But look at tonight’s date—what if she ended up with someone who refused to tip because he was such a cheapskate?
Sean, meanwhile, was still holding the bottle of Chablis. “Sure you don’t want one? On the house?”
“I’m sure.” She smiled at her ex-husband, touched by his kindness. “I’m just not in the mood for a drink.”
Chapter 27
Dan was in the mood for a drink. He was in the mood for several. On his way down to the shop this afternoon, he’d stopped to talk to Maggie Bennett, who was taking her hyperactive three-year-old grandson out on his new tricycle. The boy, desperate to get to the playground and losing patience with his grandmother, had taken aim and cycled furiously into the ba
ck of her legs, causing Maggie to lurch forward in shock and hang on to Dan for support.
Which wouldn’t normally have been a problem, except she’d grabbed him by the shoulder and, in an effort to stay upright, simultaneously stepped on his foot. Needless to say, it was his bad foot and his strapped-up shoulder. If she’d also managed to punch him in his black eye, she’d have achieved the hat trick.
Plus, poor Maggie was so mortified and apologetic that Dan had then been forced to pretend everything was fine and it hadn’t hurt a bit.
At least her grandson had found it funny. That boy was definitely a Hannibal Lecter in the making.
The pain had been intense; it had made itself felt all afternoon and on into the evening. Banned from the pub because Patsy was meeting another of her Internet dates there, Dan had dosed himself with painkillers and stretched out on the sofa to watch Star Wars.
But for once, even his all-time favorite movie didn’t have the desired effect; it wasn’t managing to distract him from thoughts of Lily with Eddie Tessler. And the more Dan thought about it, the more it bothered him. Lily had had boyfriends before—not many, but a few—and he’d been able to accept the situation, maybe because he’d looked at each of them and known instinctively that there was no need to worry; they wouldn’t be around for long.
He’d always been right too. Within a few weeks, Lily would invariably lose interest and end the relationship. As soon as it became apparent to her that they weren’t The One, she saw no reason to keep seeing them simply to have a boyfriend in her life.
The only one who’d lasted any length of time had been Phil, but even then Dan hadn’t been concerned. On the surface, Phil had seemed like a nice enough guy, but Dan had known he would reveal his true colors sooner or later. It had happened following Nick’s sudden death when, sure enough, Phil had completely failed to understand why Lily would want to support Coral in her grief rather than keep socializing with him. His lack of empathy had killed the six-month relationship stone dead and Dan had been glad, because Lily deserved so much better than someone like Phil.
That another relationship hadn’t materialized in the last couple of years was purely because she’d been so completely uninterested in meeting anyone, and somehow Dan had gotten used to this being the situation, had been lulled into a false sense of security. Although the logical part of his brain was aware that at some stage in the future it was bound to happen, the illogical part hoped that it never would.
Except now, the false sense of security had been ruthlessly ripped away, and it felt as if a bottomless sinkhole had opened up beneath his feet. At the moment, he was still hovering at ground level, like a character in a cartoon stepping off a cliff into thin air, but any moment now gravity would set in and he’d go plunging down, down, down…
Because while none of the other boyfriends in Lily’s life had felt like a threat, Eddie Tessler did. He was in a different league altogether, and Lily was clearly both flattered and smitten.
Dan’s mouth was dry, his mind in unaccustomed turmoil. While all he could do was endure it and pray for the relationship to crash and burn, he had the awful feeling it wouldn’t.
Basically, why would Eddie Tessler lose interest in someone as funny and original and quirky and lovable as Lily? Let’s face it, the attraction between them was already there; he’d heard about it from Lily and Patsy, and now he’d seen it with his own eyes.
And why wouldn’t it exist? She was perfect. Hadn’t he himself spent years trying to find someone who could successfully take his mind off her? He had tried, over and over again, and had failed miserably.
The movie was still playing on the TV screen, but Dan was paying it no attention. Instead, he reached once more for his laptop and fired it up, like some kind of masochist. Because it wasn’t as if all the photos of Eddie and Lily together weren’t already seared indelibly into his brain.
Yet he was compelled to look at them again, scrolling awkwardly with his left hand, clicking on link after link, and experiencing a fresh stab of jealousy with each photo in turn. It was just so clear, so visible, the connection between them. The cameras had caught it perfectly, damn their miracle lenses…the way Eddie was looking at Lily as if he couldn’t believe his luck, and the way Lily was glowing with the kind of happiness that only—
A key turned in the lock, the front door opened, and Dan hurriedly closed the lid of the laptop, as guilty as if he’d been caught watching porn.
One look at Patsy’s face told him the evening hadn’t been a success.
“Oh dear,” said Dan. “Marks out of ten?”
“Minus four hundred and seventy-six.”
He felt for her. “That’s a disappointing date.”
“Just your average disaster. Story of my life.” Patsy turned to look at the TV screen. “Are you watching that?”
Which was shorthand for: please tell me you’re not watching that awful movie again because I’d like to put on The Holiday to cheer me up.
“No, you go ahead.” Switching off the laptop and hauling himself awkwardly to his feet, Dan winced at the pain. “If I’m allowed back in now, I think I’ll head down to the pub.”
* * *
It was eleven o’clock, and Sean was calling last orders. Dan held up his empty glass. “Yes, please.”
Because eleven o’clock was far too early; he hadn’t come out until nine thirty and was nowhere near finished yet.
“Are you sure?” Sean was raising an eyebrow at him in that particular knowing way barmen had.
“Sure I’m sure. Absolutely. And have one for yourself.” Easing his wallet out of his jeans pocket with his left hand, Dan dropped it on the floor. “Bugger.”
“Here, let me.” Sean came out from behind the bar and retrieved the wallet. “Were you drinking before you came out tonight?”
“No, nope, not me. Well, yes, I was drinking,” Dan said. “But only orange juice. Nothing in it, I swear.”
“You’ve only had four drinks here.” Sean started to wash glasses. “You shouldn’t be this far gone. What else have you taken?”
“Just painkillers. Oh,” Dan said. “That could be it. We ran out of aspirin so I had some, you know, other stuff instead. Not that kind of other stuff.” He shook his head and wavered for a moment on his barstool. “It was a prescription Patsy had for painkillers that time she did her back in.”
“Well, that was intelligent,” Sean said drily.
“No other choice. I was in agony.” Dan grinned. “Maggie Bennett threw herself at me this afternoon.”
“I know. You already told me.”
Had he? Ha. Dan looked at the clusters of lights behind the bar, noticed that there appeared to be more of them than usual, and belatedly realized he was seeing double. It was pretty Christmassy. He said, “The lights look nice.”
Amused, Sean said, “Do they?”
“Yes. And you have lovely eyes.”
“Thanks.”
“Just one more drink.”
“You can flirt with me all you like, but I’m still not serving you.”
“I feel woozy,” Dan said. He paused to consider the word. Whoozy? Whoozie? “How do you spell ‘woozy’?”
“I spell it w-a-s-t-e-d,” Sean said sympathetically. “You’re not yourself tonight. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m having an out-of-body experience. Am I floating? I feel as if I’m floating. Don’t look at me like that,” Dan said. “I’m going through a horrible, horrible time.”
“You mean not being able to work?” Sean indicated the sling around Dan’s neck and the aluminum crutch hooked over the side of the bar.
“Not that. Worse than that.” He really did feel as if he were floating now.
“Girl problems?”
“Kind of.” Dan paused, suddenly overcome with the need to confide the truth. “Honestly? It�
�s killing me, and there’s nothing in the world I can do about it.”
“Something to do with Patsy?” Sean suddenly looked really concerned.
Dan shook his head—whoa, more fuzziness—and said, “Not Patsy. Someone else. I want to tell you, but I can’t. Because that’s the thing,” he went on helplessly. “I can’t tell anyone. It’s the biggest secret of my life.”
* * *
“We have a guest,” Sean announced thirty minutes later.
Dan nodded and pointed to his own chest. “It’s me.”
“So I see.” Amused, Will cleared the slew of boxing magazines out of the way, then jumped up and helped Dan onto the sofa. “Hello, guest, how are you doing? What’s going on?”
“Hi, Will. Sorry about this. Sean thinks I need looking after.”
“He took some of Patsy’s prescription painkillers, then came down to the pub and had a few drinks. Because he’s a complete idiot.” Sean shook his head good-naturedly. “Patsy’ll be asleep by now, so I think it’s best if we just keep an eye on him here.”
“Like a homeless dog.” Dan made an appropriately mournful face.
“Like an overmedicated homeless dog with a broken foot and a smashed-up shoulder.” Will grinned. “So, are you ready to crash out or can I get you a coffee?”
“I don’t want to sleep. I can’t sleep.” Dan considered the limited options; they were unlikely to offer him a glass of red wine. “Coffee, please. Coffee would be good. We can just chat, can’t we?” He was oh, so in the mood to talk.
“We’ll all have coffee.” Sean nodded soothingly and looked at Will. “Dan’s been going through a hard time recently.”
“I have.” Dan nodded too and felt his head do that swimmy thing again. “I am.”
“Oh no. Girlfriend trouble?” Will asked.
“He can’t tell us what it’s about,” Sean said.
“I’d really like to.” Dan shrugged, forgetting how much it would hurt. “Ow, dammit.” He gazed helplessly at the pair of them; they’d been through difficult times themselves, hadn’t they? Yet his dilemma was different.
