by Jill Mansell
• • •
“We only went along as a kind of joke,” Anna explained, clutching her cup of coffee and looking defiant. “It wasn’t as if I was desperate or anything, but my friend Elaine had been answering ads in the Personal columns without much luck, and I said why didn’t she try a singles bar instead. Well, she found this new one advertised in Time Out and dragged me along to keep her company. I didn’t even want to go, but she’s such a nag. That’s probably why her boyfriends never last longer than a week,” she added with a smile.
Janey, who privately felt personal ads and singles bars had a lot to answer for, gave her an encouraging nod.
“Well, the moment we got to this place in Kensington, she spotted Alan and liked the look of him. He came over, started chatting…and that was how it all started. Elaine was furious with me, of course, but what could I do? He was so handsome and charming that when he asked for my phone number at the end of the night, I gave it to him. He wasn’t the least bit interested in Elaine.” She looked at Janey. “Now, of course, I wish he had been.”
“And that was when?” Janey silently marveled at the story Alan had concocted about Glasgow and Manchester.
“The February before last. Nearly two years ago.”
Janey nodded. He hadn’t wasted much time, then. So much for the Scottish cockroaches and seedy studio apartments. “OK, go on.”
“Well, he just kind of moved in with me.” Anna looked helpless. “I suppose I was pretty gullible, but somehow I didn’t even twig that he might be taking advantage of me. When you’re madly in love, you don’t think of things like that. My house, you see, was left to me by an aunt, so money wasn’t a problem. I had a good job in advertising, and it was just so lovely having someone to come home to at the end of the day. To begin with, he used to do odd bits around the house: chucking clothes into the washing machine, cooking the occasional meal. And I thought that was so great! After a few months, of course, it started petering out.” Anna paused, then took a deep breath. “Elaine had been making sarcastic remarks all along, but I’d dismissed them as jealousy. Just as I was beginning to think maybe she had a point after all, I found out I was pregnant.”
“Great timing,” said Janey sardonically.
“Yes, well. Blame it on the hormones, but the idea of coping with a baby on my own scared me witless. I managed to persuade myself that Alan wasn’t so bad after all. I wanted him to marry me,” she said with a self-deprecating shrug. “That was when I found out he wasn’t actually divorced.”
“So he talked about me?”
“Not really. He just told me you were separated.”
Janey, amazed how easy it was to remain calm, murmured, “What a shame he couldn’t have told me.”
“You didn’t know?” Anna’s dark eyebrows shot up. “I mean…he was your husband! What did you think, that he was working abroad or something?”
“I didn’t know what to think,” Janey replied. “He just disappeared. I thought he was dead.”
Shaking her head in disbelief, Anna reached into her bag and took out a pack of cigarettes. “Oh well. Why should that surprise me?” She gestured wearily with the box of matches. “He did the same to me, after all.”
“Finish the story,” said Janey. “He couldn’t marry you because he wasn’t divorced. So what happened after that?”
“Nothing much.” Anna gazed at the smoke spiraling toward the ceiling. “We didn’t get married. I gave up work and had the baby. Alan started going out more and more often because he said he couldn’t stand the bloody noise of bloody crying, and eight weeks ago he upped and left. We’d had an awful row the night before,” she explained. “The next morning, I took Justin to the clinic for one of his routine checkups. By the time we got back two hours later, Alan had moved out.”
“No note?”
Anna, smiling briefly, shook her head. “No note. But he’d threatened to leave, and his clothes had gone. So I knew he wasn’t dead.”
“But you did know where to find him?” Janey was deeply intrigued. Hadn’t it even occurred to Alan that, for whatever reason, Anna might want to get in touch with him? Did he seriously expect to get away with it a second time when there was a baby to consider?
“Ah, but he didn’t know I knew.” Folding her half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray, Anna pushed back her hair and glanced across at Justin to make sure he’d fallen asleep. “All Alan ever told me about you was that you had a flower shop and that you lived above it. When I asked where, he just said somewhere in Cornwall. One night though, he came home really drunk. We had a massive argument, and Alan said if I wasn’t careful, he’d go home to Trezale. The next morning,” she added, “he had a thumping hangover and couldn’t even remember the row. I don’t know why I did it, but I wrote ‘Trezale’ down in the back of my diary.”
“So you came all the way down here from London, just on the off chance?”
“Gosh no. I did a bit of Miss Marpleing first.” Anna smiled. “I called Directory Assistance, got the numbers of all the Sinclairs, and started ringing them, asking if they were the florist. The third person I spoke to told me the name of your shop, which meant I could phone Assistance again and get your number…which in turn matched up with the next one on my list. All I had to do then was call you and ask to speak to Alan. Actually, I spoke to your assistant. But she just said Alan had gone out for the afternoon, so then I knew he was living back here, with you. That was a few weeks ago, of course,” she concluded. “Before you booted him out.”
“Clever,” said Janey. “He’s still living in Trezale, by the way. I can give you the address.” She paused, still curious. “So why have you come down here? Do you want him back?”
The baby stirred in his sleep, stretching his arms and briefly clenching his tiny fists.
“God no,” said Anna, running a gentle finger over his cheek. “I just didn’t want him to think he could get away with it.” Her eyes bright with defiance, she added, “I wanted you to know what a bastard he was too. For your own protection, not just to be mean. I suppose I needed to make him realize he couldn’t go around treating women like dirt.”
“Well, thanks.” Janey smiled. “I’m glad you did. I only wish you could have turned up a few weeks earlier.”
“You were really feeling guilty?”
She nodded. “He’s a convincing liar, as well as a bastard. He made me feel guilty. Oh…the relief of knowing I can stop!”
Anna said mischievously, “Do you want to come with me when I go to see him? Would that be fun?”
“I’ve got an even better idea.” Janey broke into a grin. Reaching across the table, she picked up the phone. “Why put ourselves out? Why don’t I give him a ring and ask him to come over here?”
• • •
It was like exorcising a ghost, only more fun. Janey, who hadn’t enjoyed herself so much for years, made the phone call and issued the invitation in a voice overflowing with sultry promise. Alan, instantly assuming that she had come to her senses and realized she couldn’t live without him, was delighted and only too happy to forgive her.
Within twenty minutes of putting the phone down, he arrived—jaunty, freshly showered, and bright-eyed with anticipation—on her doorstep. Janey and Anna, peeping out from behind the curtains, marveled at the indestructible nerve of the man and struggled not to laugh out loud.
“Come on up,” Janey called huskily down the stairs when Alan had rung the bell. “Door’s open.”
The next moment, having rushed upstairs two at a time, he appeared in the living-room doorway. The expression on his face when he saw who else was waiting for him was out of this world. Indescribable, thought Janey. Better than sex…
“Surprise, darling,” said Anna brightly. Lifting her face, she sniffed the air. “Oh, how sweet,” she added, turning to Janey. “He’s wearing my favorite aftershave. Isn’t that a thoughtful touch
?”
Alan looked like a cornered animal, Janey decided, the flickering, narrowed eyes reflecting his fury at having been caught out. Having come here expecting reconciliation, he had been made to look foolish instead. In a small way, they had succeeded in turning the tables. This time, he was the one facing humiliating rejection.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed at Anna, but the trembling, nerve-racked girl who had entered the shop an hour earlier, inspired by Janey’s lead, had undergone an almost magical transformation.
Now, casually confident, she gave him a sweet smile. “It was urgent, darling. Remember that competition I entered you for? Well, they phoned. You’ve been short-listed for the finals.”
This was so far removed from the reply he’d been expecting, Alan couldn’t take it in. “What?” He stared at her, confused. “What competition?”
“Don’t you remember, sweetheart?” Anna protested good-naturedly. “Father of the Year.”
Caught yet again, made to look even more foolish, he snarled, “Oh, clever. Ha bloody ha. How did you find me, anyway?”
“Easy,” Janey murmured in an undertone. “Just follow the trail of aftershave.”
Alan rounded on her. “And you can shut up, you spiteful, bloody bitch. Was this your idea? I suppose you think it’s funny.”
Janey’s gaze fell briefly on the still-sleeping Justin. If she had her way, Alan would be indelibly tattooed—in the appropriate place—with a government health warning so that in future at least other women could be spared. Any minute now, no doubt, he would storm out of the flat.
Oh well. At least they could make the most of the opportunity while they still had it.
“Funny?” With a quizzical glance in Anna’s direction, she shook her head. “Oh, no, Alan. You’re way too sad to be funny. In fact, I’d probably call you pathetic. How about you, Anna? Any other suggestions spring immediately to mind?”
“Gosh!” declared Anna, her dark eyes alight with enthusiasm. “I can think of loads…”
• • •
“Goodness, I enjoyed that,” Anna said happily when Alan had left, almost taking the door off its hinges as he went. “How do you feel?”
Janey heaved a sigh of pleasure. “Free.”
“Me too. Here we are, young, free, and single. Not to mention starving…”
The baby, who had slept peacefully through the whole showdown, began to stretch and stir.
“Come on,” said Janey, feeling the need to celebrate. “My treat. Let’s go somewhere wonderful for lunch.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
The first week of January was always the quietest of the year. Nobody wanted to buy flowers, nobody was getting married…or even dying. Janey, alone in the empty shop, was perched on a stool twiddling her hair around her fingers and reading an old magazine when the doorbell rang and Guy walked in.
It was awful; her heart almost leaped into her throat at the unexpected sight of him. Having taken Josh and Ella to Klosters for a fortnight’s skiing over Christmas and the New Year, he was incredibly tanned. The contrast between gray Trezale and Guy Cassidy—brown and breathtakingly handsome in a white shirt and faded, close-fitting Levi’s—couldn’t have been more marked. His eyes seemed bluer than she remembered, the teeth whiter, those faultless cheekbones more pronounced. Damn, he even smelled wonderful…
Hastily shoveling the magazine under the counter, Janey prayed she didn’t look as overawed by his glamour as she felt. Not having seen Guy since the day of his father’s funeral, when she had made the excruciating discovery about the bracelet, she had no idea what to expect now.
His smile was brief. “Hi. Good Christmas?”
“Fabulous,” said Janey. She hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic, but that was how it came out. With Guy and family away in Switzerland, Maxine and Bruno had closeted themselves in Mole Cottage and—according to Maxine—had spent the week screwing themselves into a blissful stupor. With only a grieving mother for company, it hadn’t been the jolliest of times for Janey. As far as she was concerned, it had been a festive season to forget.
Guy, however, detected the raw edge to her voice. “Well,” he said, softening slightly, “maybe this will cheer you up. Childsafe is launching its campaign next week. They’re holding a charity ball at the Grosvenor House Hotel. The organizers chose to go with the shot I submitted, so if you can stand the thought of being surrounded by a million posters of yourself, you’d better start thinking of what to wear.”
He handed Janey a thick, silver-embossed invitation. Gazing at it, the words “For two people” leaped out at her. “Um…I don’t have anyone to take with me.” Hating having to say it, she mumbled the words in an apologetic undertone.
Guy smiled. “Actually this is my invite. It seemed only fair to ask you to be my partner.”
“Oh.” Her stomach took a spiraling dive.
“It’s next Friday,” he pointed out. “You’ll have to get Paula to take over here. I thought we’d fly up around lunchtime, spend the night at the hotel, and come back on Saturday morning.”
“I see,” said Janey cautiously. “How much are the rooms?”
Guy’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Don’t panic. That’s already been taken care of. All you have to do is chuck an evening dress into a suitcase.”
She hesitated. “Right.”
“You do have an evening dress?” He looked concerned. The thought had evidently only just struck him.
Janey, feeling more and more like a decidedly second-rate Cinderella, experienced a surge of resentment. Maybe, she thought crossly, he’d like to take care of that too.
“Of course I do,” she lied smoothly, lifting her chin in defiance. “No need to panic. I won’t turn up in anything polyester.”
• • •
While it was perfectly acceptable for Maxine to drool over Chris Hemsworth, developing a crush on someone you knew was somehow infinitely more embarrassing. Janey, unhappily contemplating her own schoolgirlish infatuation with Guy, couldn’t believe how juvenile she was being. She didn’t even know why it should suddenly have happened, anyway. For months she’d been fine, then wham!—one full-blown crush, sprung up from nowhere, threatening to make her look even more of an idiot than she already felt.
It must be because of Alan, she told herself—some bizarre kind of reaction to being properly single again. Whatever, it was deeply and horribly humiliating.
“Who’s that?” said Paula, peering over her shoulder. Janey, who hadn’t realized she’d come up behind her, jumped a mile.
“Just some old magazine.” Hastily, she tried to turn the page. “I found it under the counter.”
“It’s Guy!” Paula, ever helpful, pointed him out. “Oh look, he’s with Valentina di Angelo. Isn’t she stunning? You must be so excited about Friday,” she added dreamily. “Imagine, going to a ball with Guy Cassidy. Everyone will think you’re a couple. By this time next week, you could be splashed across the pages of some gossip column… What are you wearing, by the way? Have you decided yet? Not lime-green cycling shorts, I hope, like vampy Valentina!”
Janey, who had imagined nothing but going to a ball with Guy Cassidy for the last six days, and who knew only too well that he had felt morally obliged to invite her, closed the magazine and chucked it into the bin.
“I’m not wearing anything,” she murmured wearily. It really was the only answer. Turning, she caught Paula’s goggle-eyed expression and forced a smile. “Because I’m not going.”
• • •
Guy, who had been up half the night working in the darkroom, was still in bed when Janey phoned at eleven o’clock on Thursday morning.
“Hi, it’s me,” she said quickly. “Um, I’m in a bit of a rush, so I’ll just say it. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it tomorrow after all. Paula’s gone down with a terrible flu, so she won’t be abl
e to look after the shop, and there’s no one else who can do it, so I’m going to have to stay here. I really am sorry,” she gabbled, not sounding it, “but I thought I’d better let you know as soon as possible. I’m sure you’ve got dozens of other girls to choose from…”
Guy, barely awake, propped himself up in bed.
“I chose you.” He sounded distinctly put out. “I thought you’d enjoy it. Look, we could fly back on Friday night if it would help. Surely there’s somebody capable of holding the fort for a couple of hours in the afternoon? What about your mother?”
“No, nobody.” Janey was firm. “So it was kind of you to ask me, but I’m afraid that’s it. I know you’ll still have fun there, anyway. Just ring up someone else… Oh God, more customers coming in. I really must go…”
Damn, thought Guy when she had hurriedly hung up. Bloody Paula. Bloody flu. Bloody hell.
Paula, who had been lugging bottle gardens the size of coffee tables in from the back of the shop, stopped to lean against the counter and catch her breath. Bright-eyed and pink-cheeked, she said, “I haven’t got the flu.”
“One little white lie.” Janey, just glad to have done the deed, excused herself with a shrug.
“What happens when he asks my mum if I’m better yet? She’ll think he’s gone off his rocker.”
“Your mother only works for Guy on Mondays and Wednesdays,” Janey replied evenly. “By then it won’t matter anymore.”
“Hmm.” Paula looked unconvinced. “Well, I don’t know why you won’t go to the do anyway. It sounds brilliant. If anyone’s off their rocker around here,” she added darkly, “it’s you.”
• • •
“Oh, darling, you’ll never believe it…the best news in the world!” Maxine, erupting through the front door of the cottage, flung herself into Bruno’s arms. “My agent just rang to tell me I’ve landed a part in Romsey Road! You’re hugging the next Bet Lynch…the future queen of the soaps…the biggest new name in television since Miss Piggy!”
