by Sue Watson
‘Likes me, as in she fancies me.’
Surely he’s teasing, it couldn’t be further from the truth. ‘You’re not being serious, are you, Alex?’
‘Yes.’ His eyes are on the road, so I can’t see them, but his voice is serious. ‘She told me. When you all went out on your works do, and I left you in the car and went back into the bar to tell her I was taking you home.’
‘Yes, but you said she was chatting with a group of guys at the bar.’
‘Yeah. And I told you she was all over them?’
‘Yes,’ I say, feeling increasingly uneasy.
‘Well, it was true that they were there, but it was me she was all over. I was disgusted. You said when I told you about it the next day that I was pompous or something, but that’s why I said she was vile, because that night, she would have done anything… but not with them, with me.’
‘No, no. She was messing about, she didn’t mean it,’ I say trying to convince myself as much as him.
‘You really don’t know her, do you?’ he says, staring at the road in front of him. ‘She told me she fancied me before you even met me.’
‘What?’ I’m puzzled.
‘Said she was with you when you both saw my photo on the Meet Your Match app. She said she told you to go for it because I was so good-looking.’
‘What the hell?’ I’m shocked, and horrified, but mainly because what he’s saying is true. I’ve never told Alex that Jas and I went through the app together looking for a suitable match for me, it felt slightly disrespectful, like we were trawling a meat market. And she did go on about how good-looking he was.
‘She said she figured if things didn’t work out between you and me, she’d be interested, that she didn’t mind your sloppy seconds.’
Oh God, she did. She did say that. I remember it too clearly – we were in The Orange Tree, she pushed the app at me, found Alex’s photo and said if it didn’t work out, she’d have my sloppy seconds. It was typical Jas. But she was joking – wasn’t she?
I am in shock. ‘She wouldn’t, you’re my boyfriend.’
‘Do you think that would stop her? The fact I’m with you makes me more appealing to a woman like her. And, let’s face it, she’d love to break us up. I wasn’t going to ever tell you – but you have to know. I’ve said before, she doesn’t have your best interests at heart. I know, Hannah… she tried to kiss me.’
For a while we sit in silence. He wouldn’t know any of this, so he must be telling the truth – and if he is telling the truth, then she might have come on to him. I think about Jas’s warnings against Alex, her desperation to find a partner, and begin to wonder just why she’s constantly tried to ambush my relationship with him all along? It had never occurred to me until now, but does she want Alex for herself?
I feel bruised, like my skin’s tender from thinking too much. Not long ago I would have trusted Alex and Jas implicitly, and now I don’t know who I can trust. Can I even trust either of them? Here I am on a romantic break with a man who left another man for dead because he says he was protecting me, and my best friend is constantly telling me my boyfriend can’t be trusted because she’s the one protecting me. I genuinely don’t know who to believe any more.
We arrive at the cottage, and it’s as lovely as the brochure’s pictures. It stands alone in acres of green, currently covered in snow, and looks just like a Christmas card. Once inside, I’m enchanted by the wooden beams, an open fire, a huge, soft, feathery bed. And in the lovely little kitchen with the Aga and chintzy tea towels, the hamper of food and wine from the deli is waiting – just as Alex promised.
I watch Alex lighting the fire, and feel happy and cosy; the snow’s outside, and he’s making this fire for us, for me. And as the flames begin to leap, and we thaw in front of them, I think about how home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling. Right now, here with Alex I feel like I’m home.
‘Let’s open some wine and warm up a little?’ he suggests. Within seconds we’re sitting in front of the fire, a glass each in our hands, it’s warm, and I feel safe. Here is the clean canvas I hoped for.
Back in Worcester I was caught up in Jas’s criticisms of Alex and despite defending our relationship to her, the comments had got under my skin and I’d been confused. But being here with just him now, I feel I’ve been right to give Alex a chance, and think we might just be able to overcome everything that’s happened, and be happy. I can’t excuse his actions the other night and there are things for us to work through, but I turn to look at him, his eyes flickering in the firelight, and I know in that moment no one has or possibly ever will, love me like he does.
We start to kiss, and right on cue my phone starts to buzz, and the ‘new’ Alex pulls away. ‘Do you want to get that?’
‘No. I don’t,’ I say, and reach for him. Soon we’re making love urgently, the snow falling thick outside, the fire flickering inside, and the two of us finally coming together, erasing all the doubts and fears and hurt.
‘Are you happy?’ Alex asks, afterwards.
‘Yes, this is exactly what I dreamed of,’ I say, as we lie together on the floor in front of the fire.
He pours the rest of the wine, and pads into the kitchen to get us something to eat from the hamper.
‘Bring it all,’ I call through, ‘I’m starving.’
‘Let me at least put it on a plate, you heathen.’ He laughs, and I hear him unwrapping the contents, no doubt inspecting every jar, scrutinising every ounce of pâté.
That’s my Alex, I think – and like how it sounds – my Alex.
Knowing he’ll be a while, I idly check my phone, to see if there’s any news about Chloe, but I’m irritated to see loads of missed calls and messages from bloody Jas. Even she wouldn’t usually call so much when I’m away, especially on a supposedly romantic weekend. Perhaps, as I haven’t got back to her, she’s worried Alex might have told me about her trying to kiss him. She’s probably panicking that I’ve finally realised what she’s up to. I open the latest message – which has an attachment.
Please tell me you’re okay? Text me. I’m worried. I just found this – remember the night we got your profile on to the app? We were in the wine bar, we took selfies? Well, look at this one.
Puzzled, I open up the attachment, and see me and Jas leering into the camera, all lip gloss and cocktails. At first, I think she’s simply sending the pic to remind me of some of the good times we’ve had as friends. I wonder if it’s damage limitation in case Alex has told me she tried to get off with him. But looking again, I see she’s put a red ring around something in the background – and the closer I look, the more unbelievable it is.
Alex, the man I wouldn’t even go on a first date with until several weeks after the photo was taken, is standing behind us – and he’s looking straight at me.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I look at the photo again and again, completely freaked out. I instinctively know to keep this to myself for now, but Alex is calling to me about ‘the deli feast’ being almost ready, so I tell him I’m popping to the bathroom, where I lock the door and text Jas back.
WTF? Why was he there? I don’t get it.
I wait for her response.
I Know! Weird. Looks like he was stalking you before your first date? Soooo creepy. Are u ok?
I’m about to text back, but where do I start? I don’t know what this means, but I know the bubble has definitely been burst now. Another text comes through from Jas.
Do u want me to call the police? she texts.
NO! All fine I’m sure. It’s not a crime to photo bomb. But will ask him about it.
I don’t believe it’s all fine, I just want to stop her worrying so she’ll stop texting and I can think. Could it be a coincidence that he was there that night?
‘Hannah? Where are you, darling?’ I jump at Alex’s voice. He’s standing outside the bathroom, I can hear his hand brushing up and down the door.
I flush the toilet, turn my phone on silent and put i
t in my jeans pocket.
‘Be with you in a minute, Alex,’ I call, unsure of how I feel, unsure who to trust.
I run the taps to buy more time, and see his toilet bag on the side, the one that used to have Helen’s scribbled photo hidden inside. I don’t know why, but I feel down the side of the bag to see if it’s still there, but my fingers touch something else, something cloth. I slowly pull it from the inside pocket where it’s hidden, and hold it in my hand. It’s a napkin. But not any napkin, I recognise the lipstick – it’s my napkin from our first date, the one I saw him put in his pocket as we left the restaurant. I feel further down into the bag, and there’s the coffee spoon, my coffee spoon. Are these mementos – just reminders of a wonderful evening, or something else? I can almost hear Jas’s voice, ‘He’s a serial killer and those are his trophies. GET OUT NOW!’
I am terrified, but know I have to come out of the bathroom, so I compose myself, and try to wander casually into the living room. The fire’s still blazing, my glass of wine has been refreshed, there’s a platter of delicious food on the little coffee table, and Alex is there by the fire. I take it all in for a moment, this could have been so different, so wonderful, the start of a life I’ve always dreamed of. I still want that so badly that, against my instincts, I dare to wonder if there’s still a chance for me to grasp at this future. Perhaps there’s a perfectly innocent explanation for why Alex is in the background of a photograph of me and my friend – before I met him? I can’t think of one, but in a last-chance bid for a happy ending, I brace myself, aware that what I’m about to say might change everything.
I sit down next to him, and cross my legs. I want to be in control, I don’t want him fobbing me off.
‘Alex—’ I start.
‘Yeah?’ He drags his eyes away from the fire and reaches out for my hand, but I pull it away quickly. He looks alarmed. ‘What is it?’ He sits up, and looks into my face. ‘Hannah?’
I take out my phone, open the message and show him the photo.
He takes the phone from my hand. Looks from me to the photo, puzzled.
‘It’s from Jas,’ I explain.
‘Oh, I see, another text from Jas. What’s she trying to do now, split us up?’ he snarls.
‘You tell me. That picture was taken before we met. What the hell, Alex?’
He’s studying the picture, really closely, like he’s trying to think of a reason.
‘Please don’t try and tell me it’s a coincidence, because I’m not an idiot,’ I say.
’Yes, okay it is me, of course it’s me – I saw you that night, thought you were the cutest girl I’d ever seen,’ he says, staring intensely at the photo.
I’m taken aback by his honesty – but then how can he even try and deny he was there?
‘So, you’re admitting it? You stalked me?’
‘You really do spend too much time with Jas – she’s so dramatic.’ He’s shaking his head.
‘Just tell me what you were doing there, Alex,’ I say, ignoring his bitching about Jas.
He sighs, and looks at the platter of food. ‘She’s spoiled everything. Again.’
I don’t respond to this, just continue to glare at him, waiting for the explanation.
He sighs. ‘Hannah, you want me to trust you, but when are you going to trust me? I’d gone for a drink. I was actually looking for Helen. I’d heard she’d come back from Scotland, and thought she might be in The Orange Tree. But she wasn’t there, and I was about to leave – and you walked in.’
‘And…?’
‘You sat with Jas – your annoying friend at the bar. She was loud and kept ordering too many drinks, and you seemed lovely, really pretty, but you looked a bit sad. I overheard you both talking about a dating app so… I bought a drink, and sat near enough to hear everything you said. Telling you this now does, I’ll admit, sound a bit creepy…’
‘You bet it does!’
‘But it really wasn’t. It was just an overheard conversation in a bar – and by the time you’d set up your profile, I was in love.’
‘On the rebound more like,’ I say, imagining him going to the bar that night hoping to see Helen, and when she wasn’t there, attaching himself to the first blonde woman who looked vaguely like her. Me!
‘No, I promise I wasn’t on the rebound, we’d parted months before. I just saw you and felt relieved, invigorated. It was like I knew because of you that I could love someone other than Helen – it was liberating.’ His eyes seem to sparkle at the memory of this.
‘You can’t know you’re going to love someone you see in a bar,’ I murmur, unsure how I feel about this.
‘I did. I’m a romantic. I believe in love at first sight, and that’s what it was with you. And when I overheard you talking about Meet Your Match, I downloaded my photo and bio and left the rest to fate.’
‘But that isn’t fate, Alex. You heard me tell Jas what I wanted in life, I remember it clearly. I listed it – a kind boyfriend who’d give me attention, a yellow Labrador… three kids… weekends in Devon.’ I look around the room. ‘And here we are.’
‘Yeah, but, Hannah, you’re making it sound sneaky, but we fell in love. The ends justified the means – I simply used the information I had to help things along,’ he says with such sincerity, as if he really doesn’t understand what the problem is.
‘But, Alex, it’s dishonest! You let me think we wanted the same things – but you’d just copied everything I’d said. Love isn’t a shopping list – it’s about two people being honest and open with each other, and you’re not, you never have been,’ I cry, realising from the start this relationship has been a lie.
‘How can you say that?’ His eyes are pleading with me.
‘So many reasons, and apart from hanging around the bar before you knew me, ticking off my list, there was also that small matter of you not telling me you were MARRIED!’ I yell out of frustration and anger and hurt. ‘There are always so many layers – so many lies with you, I can’t believe I’ve let this go on so long, just thinking you’ll change, that we have a chance.’
‘Hannah, don’t say that. I just sometimes find it hard to tell you everything, because I think you’ll fall out of love with me. Please don’t end this – please! I just want to love you, and for you to love me back,’ he’s saying, grabbing both my arms with his hands, making me face him, trying to make me look at him. ‘And I didn’t lie about wanting the same things as you do – for the record, I really love yellow Labradors, I want three kids. And Devon seems pretty lovely.’ He’s breathless, his face is in mine, his hands still gripping both my upper arms.
‘You’ve never been to Devon before?’ I say into the thick, tense silence.
‘No, not until today, but that doesn’t matter. I know I’ll love the place as much as you do. I already love it as much as you do.’
‘That’s not the point though… you lied, you told me you loved it here.’ I try, but he’s not listening, he’s bearing down. His eyes are on mine, but he’s not seeing me.
‘I bet she couldn’t wait to send you that photo. She’s been trying to split us up all along.’
‘Alex, why aren’t you getting this? It isn’t about Jas, it’s about you. I’ve spent the last few months believing I love you, wanting to be in love so much, that I’ve ignored the red flags.’
‘There are no red flags. And I’ve told you, I’ll change, just tell me what to do,’ he urges. ‘What do you want, Hannah? I’ll do anything to keep us together – I can’t live without you.’
‘I thought I loved you, Alex, but now I don’t know. Perhaps I just fell for the man I met on our first date. But I’m not sure he exists.’
Tears are forming in his eyes, and I know this is killing him, it’s killing me too, because I do still love him, I can’t just turn it off.
‘I can understand how finding out that I saw you before and never said anything—’
‘And lied about dogs and… Devon and so much more,’ I interrupt him to say.
‘But, Hannah, think about it, if you had a Facebook page, I might have looked on there and seen similar things, your likes and dislikes, your dreams. I didn’t do anything harmful, or creepy – honestly.’
‘But the fact you didn’t tell me makes me feel that I can’t trust you, Alex. I feel like I start to trust you and then something else comes along and all that trust goes again.’
‘Hannah, please, please don’t let this tear us apart, it’s just Jas being jealous and twisted and trying to make me look weird. I would have told you about seeing you in the wine bar…’
‘Would you? You mean, like everything else you didn’t tell me?’
He looks down, starts caressing my hand. I don’t respond, I just stare ahead into the fire that’s now smoking rather than flickering.
‘I’m going to make pasta for dinner,’ he says. ‘You’ll love it. I thought it would be nice to hole up in here, eat ourselves stupid, drink wine and lock the world out. It’s going to be perfect, Hannah, just you and me.’
He hasn’t heard a word I’ve said. He thinks if he makes everything cosy and cooks a meal it will erase all the problems. I used to think that too, and as someone who once dreamed of a home and a family, I believed that a future with a loving partner in a beautiful house was worth everything. But it isn’t, and all the cosy nights in and home-cooked meals in the world aren’t going to smooth away all the bumps in our relationship. I can feel the pressure of his hand on mine, and glance at the wooden cottage door that he made sure to lock when we got back from the beach. And I wonder where the key is – and what he’d do if I tried to leave.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alex is in the kitchen preparing the pasta bake when I text Jas back.
I’m not sure what’s happening here. I’m ok, but A didn’t take photo too well. Will stay in touch x
