To: Luke Simms
From: Elle Davis
Date: 27 May at 3:10 p.m.
Subject: How are you?
Hi Luke,
I hope you don’t mind me contacting you. I was disappointed not to be able to talk to you at the contact centre today. I haven’t seen you in so long, I wondered how you are.
Best wishes
Elle
CLICK…
I released the breath I had been holding through a small gasp.
No going back now.
Chapter Five
‘I’ve sent him an email,’ I said as I crashed through the double doors of the sweet little café we used as our headquarters to contemplate life. The loud bell above the door clattered, announcing my arrival not only to the people in the café, but also to the tourists visiting the castle at the other end of town.
‘Who?’ Abi said as she looked up from her book.
‘Luke.’
She dropped her mug on the table with a heavy thud. ‘I can’t believe it. Where have you come from and what have you done with my friend?’
I needed emergency hot chocolate and cake. We didn’t usually need an emergency to give us an excuse to indulge, but if we did, this would definitely qualify. I needed to talk through the email, get a second opinion, and, fingers crossed, some reassurance that I had done the right thing.
‘I was casual. He would see it as an email from an old friend.’ I tried, and failed, to sound unaffected and cool, adding a lift of the shoulder for effect.
‘Yeah, that works.’ She nodded in agreement.
‘Anyway, you’re the one who planted the idea in my head. Why did you tell me he’d been asking about me if you didn’t think I should do anything about it?’ I looked down at my hands. They were sticky and damp. A telltale sign that I was feeling anything but casual. ‘Oh God, what if he doesn’t see the email as casual? What if he thinks I’m some weirdo with a crush?’
I picked off a marshmallow from the top of the cream, and twirled the end of my ponytail around my finger. Anxiety had made me the queen of nervous multi-tasking.
‘It’s done now. We can’t magically un-send an email. Just wait and see what he does next. I’m just glad you no longer have the male repellent attached to your arse,’ she joked. ‘You’ve made the first steps. It’s a good start.’
I entered work the next morning with a strange anticipation, still hoping for a reply. I missed him as a friend. Who the bloody hell was I kidding? I wanted to kiss his mouth until I was raw from stubble rash.
As I opened my emails, I went through the names one by one. I scanned through, but no email from Luke Simms.
I immediately felt the cold bite of humiliation, which led to my self-protective mode kicking in, telling me repeatedly not to cry, and trying to desperately convince me that I was OK, that I didn’t need anyone. I quickly fell back into denial. I excelled at it. Denial was an old friend. I had tried to open myself up, tried to bring my defences down, but it had backfired spectacularly.
Luke Simms, my non-existent boyfriend from our non-existent relationship, had hurt me. My life was officially fucked up.
The rest of the afternoon went by quickly. Kate had reminded me about the bank holiday weekend. What great timing. I was going to spend some time with my nephew and generally learn to breathe again for the next three days.
I’d told Abi I didn’t want to go out that weekend, but she had protested, claiming my master plan of getting myself a man was not going to happen if I sat at home brooding in a face mask. As I sat at my desk, I just wanted to forget the whole damn thing and retreat into my safe, compartmentalised world.
I wasn’t embarrassed to admit that I had essentially invited myself to my brother’s house on Saturday afternoon for some well needed aunty time. Sarah answered the door looking radiant, blissful, and more than gratified. I felt my throat hitch. I tried to push down the bile of jealousy and bitterness. It wasn’t aimed at Sarah. It was aimed at me. And, inconceivably, it was aimed at Luke. I knew I was being ridiculous. Luke hadn’t done anything wrong. The spiral of negative thoughts that was taking hold was down to me and me alone.
Sarah gave me the type of tight hug that restricted any arm movement and made a person look and feel awkward. I shook my arms out as she beckoned me to follow her into the living room. ‘Hasn’t he grown? Don’t you think?’ Alex was big. Born big. 10 lb big. I didn’t want to think about how this tiny scrap of a woman had managed to grow and carry him in the first place, never mind how she’d managed to get him out of her body.
He was gorgeously snuggly and warm, not the type of baby you were afraid to hold in case you accidentally broke him. He was bright and alert, and I fell more in love with him every time I saw him. Sarah couldn’t hide the huge smile on her face. I would have had that grin too if he were mine.
She handed me a glass of water and clasped her hands together as she sat down on the brown leather sofa that filled their tiny living room.
‘I wondered if you wanted to help us give him a bath. You being a social worker and all, you could give us some tips.’
I snorted water through my nose as I took a sip. ‘I’ve never bathed a baby!’ I laughed at Sarah and Dan’s entirely incorrect presumption of what I did at work. ‘It’s not something that’s in the job description if I’m being honest.’ Sarah’s face fell. I could see that she was struggling and needed some support. Hell, even an extra pair of hands would help them out.
She settled Alex down on the changing mat while Dan started filling the small plastic bath in the middle of the living room. ‘I thought you would like to help anyway,’ she mumbled as she looked to the floor.
‘I would love to help, thanks.’ I smiled and watched the relief spread across her face.
Alex fell asleep in my arms after his bath. Dan had disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Sarah with me. She seemed uneasy and shifted in the chair before dropping the question every single woman dreads.
‘Do you want children?’
I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes by closing them before glancing down at the peaceful bundle sleeping in my arms. ‘Yes, I would like to have children,’ I replied honestly.
‘It’s just I’ve never seen you with a boyfriend.’
‘No, not for a while.’ The lies started to spill effortlessly. ‘I’m still young and my career is the most important thing to me right now. I’m more than happy being an aunt. I can hand him back to you when I’ve had enough!’
I should have won an Oscar for that performance.
‘I think you’d make a great mum,’ she said as she fiddled with her bra cup and placed a nursing pad on the table. If that wasn’t an ad campaign for contraception, I didn’t know what was.
‘I know your mum would love it if you met someone.’
‘Yes, she’s made that clear many times. My crap love life is a disappointment to her, but the fact I’m still living at home, in the same bedroom I had when I was five, is the biggest bugbear, I’m sure.’
I didn’t want to come across like a selfish, sarcastic bitch, but the emotional trauma of the last few days had caught up with me. It was time for me to wallow in self-pity and my own company before I offended anyone else.
Chapter Six
The bank holiday weekend flew by. I enjoyed having some downtime. I even spent a day with Mum, something we hadn’t done for as long as I could remember. She didn’t once mention boyfriends or babies. We just enjoyed spending time together laughing, enjoying each other’s company and treating ourselves to new clothes. Shopping was my religion. It never failed to put me in a good mood. I fully understood the term retail therapy.
Stopping off at a generic, overpriced coffee shop, we both relaxed into the comfortable chairs and took the weight off our aching feet.
‘What will it be?’ I asked.
‘Skinny chocca-mocca latte with cream.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure that’s even a thing, Mum. And let’s not even g
et started on the skinny element with added cream on top. Cream equals calories, you know.’
‘It is a thing. I know cream adds calories, but if I had full fat milk, there would be even more calories, so I’m sticking to skinny as I’m on a diet. It balances it out.’ The look on her face didn’t represent the slightest hint of humour. The woman was serious. I walked away muttering obscenities and shaking my head.
Tuesday rolled in all too soon. A rather boring team meeting kicked off the day and apart from one home visit before lunch, I had the rest of the afternoon free to catch up on paperwork. I delayed opening my emails for as long as possible. I wasn’t expecting a response from Luke, but I knew I would feel the inevitable sting of regret when I didn’t see his name.
One coffee fuel-up and several phone calls later, I logged on to my computer. I almost had to deal with a third-degree finger burn as I spilled my drink when I saw his email.
To: Elle Davis
From: Luke Simms
Date: 31 May at 9:10 a.m.
Subject: RE: How are you?
Hi Elle,
I am so glad you contacted me. I hope you didn’t think I was rude last week. I was dealing with a challenging phone call and although I wanted to catch up with you, I just couldn’t put the phone down. I’m good, thanks. Still with the same team. It’s a shame we don’t get to see more of each other. You looked great.
Hopefully see you soon.
Luke
I reread the email four times. It’s a shame we don’t get to see more of each other. You looked great. Was Luke Simms flirting with me?
In a frantic search for my phone, I grabbed my bag, sending the contents scattering chaotically across the floor.
Kate started talking about something I couldn’t give any attention to and I muttered a garbled response as a typed out a text message to Abi.
Me: He replied. He said I looked great!
Abi: So he finally replied. How gracious of him.
Me: Tell me what to do!
Abi: Send him a reply?
The first draft took six attempts before I finally settled on trying to sound casual and aloof…
To: Luke Simms
From: Elle Davis
Date: 31 May at 1:10 p.m.
Subject: Hey!
Hi Luke,
It’s great to hear from you. I didn’t think you were being rude. I could hear it was a difficult conversation. Not that I was eavesdropping. Don’t think that.
So how is life treating you? I’m still with Colin’s team and enjoying the role. I had a really quiet bank holiday. What did you get up to?
Elle
I had failed in the casual and aloof department, but I didn’t have time to worry about it because I received an almost instant reply. I imagined him sitting at his computer, his long legs stretched under his desk, a cocky grin on his face, and his fingers brushing against his lips where he wished he could feel mine.
Stop it, Elle.
To: Elle Davis
From: Luke Simms
Date: 31 May at 1:15 p.m.
Subject: Adulting…
Hi Elle
I had a quiet one too. I’ve not long moved in to my own place, so I made the obligatory visit to Ikea over the weekend and stocked up on candles and meatballs! Ha, OK, so I did do some grown up things too, like buy some furniture and bedding. I went to a gig on Saturday night. That was good fun.
Luke
The instant replies and fun tone to his emails fired my confidence and refreshed my memory of his wonderfully dry sense of humour. I missed that. He could make me laugh like no one else. I wanted to spend time with him, get to know what made him tick, pick up where we’d left off.
A brief moment of insanity pulled my fingers towards the keyboard.
To: Luke Simms
From: Elle Davis
Date: 31 May at 1:18 p.m.
Subject: RE: Adulting…
Hi Luke,
Ikea is a necessary part of becoming a homeowner. Look at you all grown up!
What gig did you go to? What kind of music do you like? Maybe we share similar tastes and could go to see something together?
Elle
I was expecting another instant reply. I obsessively refreshed the page every twenty seconds. After an hour, there was nothing, nada, not even an email to say thanks but no thanks.
By the end of the day, I’d convinced myself that he must have gone out on a home visit or received some unfortunate family news that meant he’d had to leave the office. All good excuses for why he hadn’t replied to my last email; you know, the one where I asked if he wanted to go to a gig together.
Cringe.
I stayed at the office later than normal just to keep my emails open, but finally closed my computer down at half past five when there was still no reply. Maybe the gig question was a bit too much. Perhaps I had been too forward—Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear myself say.
I felt discouraged as I ran through the emails in my head on my way home, but the ring of my phone quickly pulled me out of my thoughts.
‘I have news. Don’t kill the messenger, though,’ Abi said as I held the phone to my ear.
‘Hold on. Let me put you on speaker.’ I balanced the phone between my legs. ‘Go on.’
‘I had to go and see a social worker this afternoon about a case I’m taking on from Andrea’s team. When I left, I saw Luke.’
Not again. I sighed heavily and rubbed my forehead. ‘And?’ I asked slightly too sharply and with absolutely no enthusiasm.
‘He is seeing someone, you know. Emma Shrine from Andrea’s team.’
Emma was an experienced social worker. She was also a very attractive woman who earned a great deal of male attention in the office. Some would say that she was the female equivalent of Luke. I could picture the two of them together. All eyes would naturally gravitate towards them as they entered a room. Men would want to be him, women would want to be her, and all of them would want to fuck each other.
‘What happened to, “Oh, he was asking about you. He’s interested.” I’ve just humiliated myself because of you. I asked him out on a date!’ I shouted, unable to focus on anything other than the humiliation.
‘Calm down, you didn’t know.’
‘What if I see him again?’
That gig I spoke about? Yeah, you can bring your girlfriend if you want.
‘Don’t beat yourself up over this. Drive safe. I’ll ring you later.’ The phone went silent, allowing me to run through the emails in my head again.
I thought of him with her. Emma with the perfect hair and teeth. Emma with the poise of a ballerina. Emma with a shoe collection to rival Mariah Carey’s. I imagined him going home to tell her about my emails, laughing at my expense before taking her by the hand to his bedroom and ravishing her on his new Ikea bedding.
Chapter Seven
An agonisingly slow two weeks had passed by since my last email to Luke. The time went by so slowly it should probably have been entered into the Guinness World Records for being the slowest two weeks in the life of a single, desperate, sex and relationship starved social worker. But I still checked my emails; I didn’t know why. Maybe a flicker of hope was still burning brightly. Or perhaps I was waiting for him to laugh it all off so I didn’t have to have an awkward encounter the next time I saw him.
I decided to delete the email trail after rereading it for the fifty-seventh time, slowly driving myself insane. He had a girlfriend and I had essentially just asked him out on an imaginary date to an imaginary gig. It was a shame that I wasn’t just an imaginary loser.
I rubbed my hands over my face to try to ease the tension and looked to the floor in defeat. Finally, after twenty-three years of singledom, I had found the courage to reach out to someone, only to completely mess it up. Maybe this was the universe’s way of telling me to stay single. I could shield my heart better that way.
Single life had become normal to me. I didn’t have to answer to anyone or pr
etend I would love to go and watch crap action films instead of romantic comedies with a gorgeous male lead. I didn’t have to shave my legs if I couldn’t be bothered or I’d forgotten to add razors to my shopping list, and I could survive on a diet of M&M’s and crisps without being questioned about the impact on my thighs.
‘Elle, you want anything for lunch?’ Kate broke my thoughts as she was on her way out.
‘No thanks, I’ve got some soup to warm up.’
‘Everything OK?’
‘Yeah. No new messages,’ I mimicked the cold robotic voice of an answer machine, but she just rolled her eyes at my feeble attempt to make a joke.
‘I’ll be back soon. We can eat our lunch together.’ She offered a small smile and I nodded before closing my emails.
I was broke and counting down the days until payday. I had raided the cupboards at home and put together my lunch. Boring soup to match my equally boring life. After warming it up and grabbing a coffee, the phone rang just as I returned to my desk.
‘Hi, this is Elle. This had better be good. I’ve just warmed up my lunch and I’m sorry, but cold soup just ain’t cutting it today.’ Sarcasm dripped from the words and I smiled as I held the phone under my chin and stirred the soup with my free hand.
‘That’s true. Cold soup really isn’t an acceptable lunch. I promise I won’t keep you long.’ The spoon dropped and clanged on the side of the bowl when the reality of whose voice was on the end of the phone started to chip away at the nerves in my teeth. ‘Hi, Elle; it’s Luke.’
I was stunned.
Bloody fuck.
Say something.
‘Shall we start again?’ he said before laughing deeply.
‘Hi, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. In fact, you’re the last person I expected to hear from.’ My face was burning up as I nervously started to twist the phone cord around my little finger.
‘I know I rather abruptly stopped replying to your emails.’ I could hear the smile in his voice. ‘I’m so sorry about that, but there was something I had to do before I could contact you again. I was seeing someone, but I ended it last week. It’s just I was taken by surprise, seeing you and then your emails. It got me thinking and I couldn’t shake those thoughts. It was really good to see you.’
Let Me Be Your First (Music and Letters #1) Page 4
