Blind-Date Marriage

by Fiona Harper

  ‘We’re on the London Eye!’

  ‘You said you’d always wanted to go on it that day we had lunch at Maison Blanc.’

  ‘How sweet of you to remember!’

  She fell silent and took a good look around her. They were alone inside one of the egg-shaped glass and metal pods on the giant wheel almost directly across the Thames from the Houses of Parliament. She’d never seen London look so beautiful. It hardly felt as if they were moving, but slowly they were climbing into the night sky. A whole city of Christmas lights below twinkled just for them. She pressed her nose against the glass and stared.

  The unmistakable pop and hiss of a champagne cork made her turn round. He was smiling that wonderful, heart-melting smile of his, and pouring champagne into a pair of glasses that seemed to have appeared from nowhere, along with an ice-bucket.

  ‘How did you do all this?’

  ‘It took a little bit of planning, but it wasn’t impossible. I told you we had a little catching up to do to make you feel special.’

  ‘I think you’ve done it all in one night!’

  ‘What makes you think this is all there is?’

  ‘There’s more?’

  ‘You haven’t had your present yet.’

  She looked past him to the ice-bucket. No brightly wrapped parcel stood beside it. She bent down and looked under the oval-shaped wooden bench in the centre of the pod. Nothing.

  ‘So where is it? No, don’t tell me—you’re having it helicoptered in when we get a little higher?’

  He laughed and patted the breast pocket of his jacket. ‘It’s right here, but I was going to wait until we got to the top to give it to you.’

  Serena swallowed. It was getting hard to think.

  Her present was obviously very special. After all, he was making the act of giving it to her a monumental occasion.

  And it was small enough to fit into his pocket.

  It couldn’t be…could it?

  No. That was a stupid idea! It was far too soon.

  Jake handed her a glass of champagne and stood beside her to survey the patchwork of the London skyline. They sipped in silence as the pod climbed higher, but she couldn’t concentrate on the illuminations on Battersea Bridge, or St Paul’s Cathedral. All she could think about was what might be sparkling inside his suit pocket.

  It seemed as if the wheel had gone into slow motion. It took a torturously long time for their pod to reach the apex. Just as they watched the one above theirs start to descend, Jake turned towards her and looked deep into her eyes. The entire herd of butterflies resident in her stomach stampeded and came to settle, fluttering madly, in her chest.

  ‘I want you to know you are the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met…’

  Her mouth went dry.

  ‘I don’t think anyone has had the effect on me that you do. And, because of that, I want to give you something that is uniquely for you—something I’ve never given to anybody else.’

  Her eyes followed his right hand as it slipped inside his jacket and reached into the pocket that covered his heart. When it reappeared, it was holding a small, velvet-covered jewellery box. Square. Ring-sized.

  One hand flew to her mouth and she clutched the glass of champagne as if it were a lifeline. She was no longer aware of the motion of the giant wheel. It seemed to have stopped on her in-breath. The world paused as they floated high above a sea of sparkling diamonds.

  He faced the box towards her and gently eased the lid open, to reveal the most wonderful…

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EARRINGS?

  She looked up at him. His eyes held a question.

  She checked the box again, just to make sure she was seeing straight.

  No, she was right. It was definitely a pair of silver earrings sitting on the velvet cushion. Actually, they were the most exquisite design of interwoven ivy, completely unlike anything she’d ever seen before. They were really…her. They just weren’t…

  She ignored the fact that her stomach had plummeted from where they were suspended mid-air to the slime-coated riverbed below, and choked out the only words that came to mind.

  ‘They’re…earrings.’

  Jake frowned. He almost let that mask of his slip. Just for a split-second he looked really vulnerable. ‘You don’t like them?’ He shook his head slightly. ‘I was sure the designer’s work was just your taste, but—’

  ‘No, Jake. They’re amazing. Really.’

  He searched her face.

  ‘Then why do you look as if you’re just about to cry?’

  She set her glass down on the bench, took his head in her hands and kissed away his frown. When she thought she’d stopped shaking enough to sound convincing, she pulled away.

  ‘Jake. The earrings are stunning. Nobody has ever given me a present that suited me so well. In fact, they don’t just suit me, they sum me up.’ And she didn’t have to lie. They were perfect. He’d obviously had them made just for her. ‘I’m just crying because I’m so…happy.’

  The first of a hundred tears was poised and ready at the corner of her eye. She hugged him hard as it escaped down her cheek and screwed her face up against his shoulder, willing the other ninety-nine to stay put.

  ‘Let me put them in for you.’

  She moved back enough to remove the hoops she already wore, and dropped them in her coat pocket. Jake took one of the delicate earrings from the box between his fingers and aimed for the hole in her earlobe.

  ‘Ow!’ The spike of the earring stabbed tender flesh.

  ‘I’m hurting you.’

  ‘No. Well, a little. Maybe I’m better off on my own.’ She forced the corners of her mouth upwards. ‘Why don’t you get me a refill?’

  By the time he’d returned, with a full glass of champagne, both earrings were securely fastened in place.

  ‘You’re sure you like them?’

  She pressed a delicate kiss onto his cheek. ‘I love them.’ I love you.

  ‘Well…okay. Good.’

  They spent the last ten minutes of the ride in silence. He seemed a little distant. She hoped desperately that he hadn’t caught her awkward stutter when she’d opened the box. It didn’t matter that the little velvet cube hadn’t contained what her over-active imagination had conjured up. They’d been seeing each other less than a month. It had been crazy to think…

  She would probably laugh about it in the morning when she spoke to Cass on the phone.

  The pod reached the landing and the doors whooshed open. Back into the real world. Dirt, noise, pollution. Nothing like the fairytale scene from the top of the wheel at all, really.

  Jake stood in front of the black-painted door and waited for the chime of the doorbell to fade. Part of him wished she wasn’t there, that the door would stay shut.

  ‘Hey! Up here.’

  He squinted and looked up. Serena was leaning out of a first-floor window, looking extraordinarily beautiful, with her dark hair falling forwards and a huge smile on her face. She was so pleased to see him. He felt like an utter heel.

  She pointed to a narrow passageway at the side of the enormous Chelsea townhouse. ‘Come round to the back door. I’ll meet you down there.’

  By the time he’d ducked under the ivy that threatened to block the path and pushed the heavy back door open, she was already in the spacious basement kitchen, filling the kettle. She heard the squeak of his soles on the tiles and left the tap running as she rushed over to give him a hug.

  Her soft lips brushed his cheek. Touching her had seemed so natural only a few days ago, yet now he couldn’t find the proper place to put his hands. He eased out of her arms and sat down on a stool near a breakfast bar.

  She turned the tap off and clicked the kettle on. ‘I’m very flattered you raced over here in your lunch break to see me.’

  Jake shifted his weight on the stool. ‘I have some important news.’

  News you’re not going to like.

  ‘Good news or bad news?’

 
; He didn’t answer. She stopped getting cups out of the cupboard and took a good look at him. ‘It’s bad news, isn’t it?’

  ‘Good news, really,’ he said, trying to smile. ‘It just feels like bad news.’

  That was the truth. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no other option. He really liked her, and had hoped they’d continue to see each other for quite a while, but he’d seen the way she’d looked at the jewellery box the other night. It had taken him completely by surprise.

  He’d thought he’d been safe from all of that with her. It had been short-sighted of him to go over the top with her birthday celebrations, but he’d enjoyed watching her face light up at each revelation.

  So stupid of him to think he could do all that and not give her the wrong impression! She was a woman, after all. And, just like any other woman, she wanted more than he could possibly give. He was almost cross at her for making him believe otherwise.

  ‘Jake, you’re starting to worry me! Is somebody ill?’

  ‘No. Nothing like that. It’s just…I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I know the time is right…’

  She waved him on. ‘And?’

  ‘I’m opening a branch of my firm in New York.’

  ‘But that’s wonderful!’ Pride in him radiated from her in bucketloads. He felt like something that should be scraped off on the door mat.

  ‘There’s a catch.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I’m going to have to spend a lot of time over there in the next few months. In fact, I’m due to fly out tomorrow and I won’t be back until mid-January.’

  Her cheeks paled. ‘Not even for Christmas?’

  ‘No. Mum and Mel might fly out for a visit, but I won’t be back.’

  ‘Then…when will I see you?’

  ‘This is what I wanted to talk to you about.’ He looked down at his bunched fists on the counter and deliberately splayed his fingers. Looking her in the eye was harder than it should have been. He’d given similar speeches before, but he’d never felt this awkward. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He wasn’t going to wimp out now. ‘I’m not going to have much time for anything but the new office for a while, so I think we should cool things off for a bit.’

  Her mouth dropped open, then she inhaled and looked away. She hadn’t seen that one coming. ‘Just exactly how cold are we talking about?’

  Cruel to be kind, remember! Tell her.

  ‘I don’t think we should see each other any more. Long-distance relationships never work.’

  ‘They can if you want them to. And you’re not going to be gone for ever. There’s the phone, and e-mail…’ She trailed off. ‘Oh. Stupid me. This is a brush-off.’

  ‘I—’

  ‘Don’t bother, Jake. I can smell that kind of crap a mile off. I’ve heard it enough times to know when I’m sniffing the genuine article.’

  He didn’t know what else to say. All he could do was look at her angry, flushed face while his stomach churned.

  ‘What’s the real reason?’

  ‘I’m going to be busy—’

  She marched over to him and leaned across the counter to look him in the eye. ‘I want the truth.’

  He stared into her beautiful chocolate eyes. She was right. She didn’t deserve side-stepping and half-truths. He could have waited a few more months to open the New York branch, and even then he needn’t have stayed away for so long.

  ‘You really want the truth?’

  ‘I really do.’

  ‘You’re not going to like it.’

  ‘I don’t care. It’s got to be better than playing second fiddle to four walls and a fax machine! I thought we had something, Jake. Something special.’

  ‘We do—we did. But it’s just not going to work out. It’s better to end it now, before anyone gets hurt.’

  Her eyes narrowed. She bit her lip and shook her head.

  Okay, that had been stupid. She was hurt already. He knew that. That was why he was cutting her loose, to make sure he didn’t do any more damage. And yet this goodbye was almost as hard on him as it was on her. This time he wouldn’t be walking away without a backward glance. He was really going to miss Serena—her sense of fun, her warmth and openness, the sense that there was always another mystery waiting to be unravelled.

  Then he knew why ending it with her was so hard. He’d never felt like this before, not even with Chantelle. Never considered the possibility that there was a woman out there who matched him completely. But here she was, standing in front of him, and if anything it made walking away worse. It was easy to waltz through life, believing he had immunised himself against fairytales, but it wasn’t so easy to walk away knowing that if things were different—if he were different—he could have had it all.

  The phrase ‘if only’ kept echoing in his head. If only he could believe in fairytales. If only he could make her truly happy. If only…

  She wanted honesty? She was going to get it. Even if it left him feeling naked. He owed her that.

  ‘You thought I had something else in that little black velvet box, didn’t you?’

  Her lips started to form a denial, but the words never left her mouth. She let out a puff of air. Colour crept into her cheeks and she stared at the floor.

  ‘Is that so terrible?’

  ‘No. It’s just…’ God, he wanted to haul her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay. But he couldn’t. It never would be where they were concerned. ‘I’m not the marrying kind, Serena. I don’t have it in me.’

  She looked up, shocked, as if she’d never considered the possibility that, deep down, everybody didn’t hunger for a soul mate.

  ‘How do you know unless you try?’ Her voice was soft and shaky. He knew it was taking all the guts she had to ask him that.

  ‘I just know. It wouldn’t be fair to carry on.’

  She covered her mouth with her hand. A tear rolled down her face.

  ‘If I really thought I could do the lifelong commitment thing, there’s no one I’ve come closer to wanting it with—’

  ‘Stop!’ Her voice broke, and she took a large gulp before she continued. ‘I don’t want to hear any more.’

  She walked over to the door and held it open for him. He hesitated, then decided to do as she asked. There was nothing he could do to make it better. She kept her head turned away from him. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, hoping it would say all the sorrys he wanted to. She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears started to run in thick trails.

  He stepped though the door into the bleak winter sunshine. It slammed behind him, and as he walked up the alleyway he could hear her sobbing.

  Serena grabbed the alarm clock from the bedside table, threw it somewhere else, and burrowed back under the duvet.

  The ringing continued.

  She poked her nose out and opened one eye to look at the clock. It wasn’t there. Somewhere in her sleep-fog she knew there was a good reason it wasn’t sitting next to the lamp, but she had no idea what that reason might be. The clanging of the alarm against her eardrums was making any efforts at conscious thought impossible.

  Hair fell in front of her face as she propped herself up and tried to get her bearings. That was the thing about sitting up half the night crying into your cocoa—when you finally got to sleep, it was next to impossible to wake up again.

  She spotted the alarm clock against the skirting under the window. The battery and casing lay a few feet away. Then what on earth…?

  Phone.

  She grabbed the receiver of the clunky old-fashioned phone next to her bed and jammed it against her ear. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Ren? Is that you?’

  ‘Cass? What are you doing, calling at this godawful hour?’

  ‘It’s ten-thirty.’

  ‘It can’t be.’

  ‘Well, it is. Look at the clock.’

  Easier said than done.

  ‘Okay, okay, it’s ten-thirty. Where’s the fire?’

  ‘You were
supposed to be here at ten, remember?’

  Oops!

  ‘Sorry. It slipped my mind.’

  ‘Well, it can slide right back in again, then, can’t it? I thought your New Year’s resolution was to find something to do while your dad is in rehab.’

  Serena flumped back on the pillows and flopped the duvet over her face, phone still clamped to her ear. ‘That was almost a month ago. Everyone knows that New Year’s resolutions expire on January the third—the fifth at the latest.’

  ‘Well, you said you would help with the youth music project, and I’m counting on you, resolution or not.’

  ‘You don’t really need me. After all, what can I do? I don’t know anything about kids. All I know is the music industry. I’d probably just be a liability.’

  ‘I’ve had enough. It’s exactly because you work in the music industry that you’re going to be useful. It’s a music project, remember? And they’re teenagers, not toddlers. You’ll be fine. To be honest, I think it’s about time you stopped wallowing.’

  Serena stared at the rose-printed fabric in front of her nose. ‘I’m not wallowing.’

  ‘Then sit up, take the duvet off your head, and get out of bed.’

  Serena stuck her tongue out at the phone. That was the trouble with best friends. They knew too much.

  ‘I’m allowed to be a little depressed. I loved him.’

  She heard Cassie sigh. ‘I know you think you did, but you didn’t really know him.’

  ‘I knew enough.’

  ‘Not enough to know he didn’t want to settle down and produce your football team for you. I would have thought that was a pretty important piece of info to have.’

  Serena was going to say she had known, because Jake had seemed so…

  She punched a fist against the duvet above her head while she tried to think of the word she was looking for. It was on the tip of her tongue…

  Then it hit her. She’d said it herself. It was all about how Jake had seemed to her, the assumptions she’d made. Nothing he’d said, or done, had ever given her the impression he’d been looking for marriage. He’d just looked the part, ticked all the right boxes.