Annie sounded uncertain when she answered. ‘I kind of thought I’d be hearing from Alex . . . Are you from the magazine?’
Mentally kicking herself, Harri realised she hadn’t given her name. ‘I’m so sorry, forgive me. I’m Harri Langton – I nominated Alex for the column.’
There was a tangible sense of relief from the other end of the line. ‘Oh, right, the girl from the article. You said all that nice stuff about him.’
Harri pulled a face at the receiver. ‘That’s right, I did. So, would you like to meet Alex?’
‘Yes, definitely.’
‘OK. I need to meet you before he does, if that’s OK?’
‘Er, sure, that’s fine. Whereabouts are you?’
‘Stone Yardley – how about you?’
‘I’m in Ellingsgate, so not far. I could do tomorrow – it’s my half-day, so I’m free anytime from two thirty.’
Harri’s head was spinning but she managed to claim suf ficient control over her thoughts to answer. ‘Great. How about I meet you at three thirty in the Land Oak, just at the end of the High Street?’
‘Cool. I’ll see you then.’
Ending the call, Harri let out a long groan and flopped back into her sofa, spooking Ron Howard, who leaped off and hid under the table, peering up at her with yellow-green eyes. ‘Why, Ron? Why do I let myself in for this stuff?’
Ron Howard scowled at her and turned his back. ‘Great. Well, thanks for your support.’ Shaking her head, she found a number on her mobile and placed another call.
‘He-ello.’ Alex’s familiar greeting made her smile despite her mood.
‘Al, it’s Harri.’
‘Harriet! How wonderful to hear from you. I thought you’d finally taken my advice and gone travelling – or, more realistic ally, been abducted by aliens. Where have you been all week?’
Harri rubbed her eyes and stared at the ceiling. ‘Sorry, I’ve just been snowed under. I was meaning to come to see you.’
His laugh tickled her ear. ‘Yeah, right, whatever. I know how you operate, you fair-weather friend. Just pick me up when you want me and throw me away when you don’t.’ He feigned a pitiful sniff. ‘But that’s – fine, you know. I can take rejection . . .’
Ooh, if only you knew, Brannan. ‘OK, I get it. I’m the worst friend in history. How can I ever make it up to you?’
‘How about coffee in, say, half an hour? I can head over to yours—’
‘No!’ Harri said, a little too loudly and far too quickly. Struggling to back up, she attempted a breezy laugh. ‘The cottage is a mess. I’ll come to you.’
‘Whatever, Captain Freakout. See you in a bit.’
In true Great British summer style, the bright sunlight that had been present all day had given way to murky grey clouds and a wind had sprung up from nowhere, robbing the day of its warmth. Harri shivered as she walked across the playing fields on the way to the High Street. Passing the goalposts, where two young lads were engrossed in a manic battle of ‘keepy-uppy’, she was instantly reminded of Rob.
Until the beginning of this year – when his precious job had rudely assumed centre stage in his attention – Rob’s Saturday afternoon football matches had been a staple of Harri’s life. A star striker for Dynamo Stone Yardley (a serious amateur squad in the local pub league), Rob was a first-choice player, called on for most of the team’s games – something Harri was unbelievably proud of even though she had no interest in football. Consequently, Harri had become very familiar with the soggy sidelines at King Edward VI playing fields. Standing with the other players’ wives and girlfriends, she had witnessed countless matches and even one local cup victory when DSY thrashed the beefy boys from Red Lion United two years ago.
Despite the fact that the football pitch was more often than not freezing, damp or just downright inhospitable, some of Harri’s happiest moments were spent here, cheering Rob’s nifty footwork, booing when the ref’s decision went against them and catching up on the latest shenanigans from the assembled significant others of the team. In truth, the gossip factor was the most enjoyable aspect – not least because it afforded Harri a sense of family that she so craved. But also the twists and turns of DSY’s love lives were more sensational than any soap-opera plotline. During her time as a DSY ‘WAG’, Harri had witnessed several affairs, more than one revenge-hungry bunny-boiler ex, and a very nasty incident that began with a disagreement over a woman, was followed by a hastily wielded football boot and resulted in a brief excursion to A&E. Still, at least it kept the local paper, Stone Yardley Chronicle, in suitably salubrious stories – a blessing considering the vast majority of its column inches were given over to adverts for double-glazing and car dealers.
Even though these days Rob was more interested in chasing promotion in Preston than scoring goals for DSY, the rest of the team still held him in high regard, meeting up with him whenever they could. Harri often went along, enjoying the opportunity to meet up with Rob’s mates and their partners.
‘Do you realise that you and Rob are one of our most successful couples?’ Cathy Simpkiss had remarked, only last week. ‘I mean, you guys have been together a good couple of years longer than anyone else. Dave and I have managed three years, but it’s been tough, I don’t mind admitting it. What’s your secret?’
Proud to have her and Rob’s relationship recognised like this, Harri smiled. ‘We just love being together,’ she replied. ‘And even though Rob’s away a lot with work at the moment, he still makes the effort to spend time with me whenever he can. I think we’ve come to the point where we’re secure enough in our relationship to cope with being apart. I completely trust him and I know he trusts me, too.’
Cathy shook her head in awe and clamped a perfectly manicured hand on Harri’s arm. ‘That’s just – awesome,’ she breathed. ‘So all you need now is for him to, you know, pop the Big Question, and then you’ll be home and dry!’
Reaching the gates at the town end of the playing fields, Harri pulled a face. It didn’t seem right to talk about relationships in terms of a race, but in a way Cathy was right. Certainly as far as the collected girlfriends of DSY were concerned, it was all about getting down the aisle as quickly as possible, preferably for the financial stability. Harri wasn’t entirely convinced by this relationship ambition, but she could understand the need to pursue a strong commitment – especially after seven years.
But then, with Rob’s frequent mentions of ‘the future’ lately, maybe the ‘Big Question’ wasn’t really that far away now . . . As she walked through the small cluster of houses on Park Street, she remembered his text from Friday and felt a ray of hope warming her heart. Tomorrow night it’s just me and him, she reminded herself.
The last few customers were leaving Wātea as Harri arrived. Alex looked more than a little stressed as he turned the Open sign to Closed and bolted the door behind her.
‘Honestly, H, what part of “We close at four p.m.” don’t they understand? I actually pulled down the blind on the door half an hour ago and two ladies walked in. They wouldn’t leave until I’d served them tea and cake.’
‘Well, that’s the price you pay for being popular,’ Harri smiled. ‘Want a hand clearing up?’
Alex handed her a broom. ‘You’re an angel, Langton.’
‘Not so much of an angel, actually. I was hoping to trade my services for one of your famous hazelnut hot chocolates.’
‘Right, I see. With whipped cream, I suppose?’
Harri nodded. ‘And chopped nuts.’
Alex folded his arms, a wry smile on his lips. ‘Anything else?’
‘A little drizzle of that caramel syrup would be nice too.’
‘Blimey, you drive a hard bargain.’
‘Absolutely.’ Harri rolled up her sleeves and started sweeping. Half an hour later, the coffee lounge was cleaned, swept and mopped. Alex joined Harri at the table nearest the window and handed her a large duck-egg-blue mug filled with hot chocolate and cream.
‘I just
happened to have two slices of apple pie left over,’ he grinned, pushing a plate over to her. ‘I thought you might fancy more calories to add to the thousand you’ve already got there.’
Harri beamed. ‘You know me so well.’
Alex shook his head. ‘It never ceases to amaze me how you eat as much as you do without becoming the size of a small planet.’
She took a large bite of pie. ‘Excellent metabolism, you know.’
Outside, the High Street was emptying as Stone Yardley’s shopkeepers closed up and headed home. The breeze had strengthened to a brisk wind and sharp splats of rain began to fall against the window.
‘So much for the great British summer, huh?’ Alex said, stirring the mountain of cream atop his mug into the hot chocolate beneath. ‘Mind you, it has its benefits. Sales of hot chocolate have rocketed this week.’
‘Excellent.’ It was time to put Operation Juste Moi into action. Harri took a deep breath. ‘So, are you doing anything particular tomorrow evening?’
Alex frowned. ‘Monday night? No, nothing once I finish up here. Why?’
Harri smiled. ‘Because there’s someone I’d like you to meet.’
‘Really? Who?’
‘Just an old friend from college. We met up again a while ago and I think you two have a lot in common.’
Alex leaned forward. ‘Details?’
‘Her name is Annie, she’s twenty-nine, blonde, blue eyes and she’s really nice.’
‘That’s hardly details, H.’
‘Well, I can’t tell you everything, can I? I mean I need to leave some things for you to find out for yourself. Bit of mystery and all that.’ Harri hoped with all her might that Alex would buy it. To her surprise, he did, his face lighting up at the prospect.
‘Hmm, you’re right. Excellent work, my good friend.’ Harri raised her mug. ‘Pleased to be of service.’
‘So, Great Matchmaking Maestro, what’s the plan?’
‘I’m meeting up with her tomorrow, so how about I bring her here and then you two can see how you get on?’
Alex’s eyes twinkled above the cream mountain in his mug. ‘It’s a date!’
‘Afternoon off? On a Monday?’ Judging by his shocked expression, Harri finally claiming her long overdue time off was tantamount to asking for the moon on a stick.
‘Yes, George. We’re not very busy today and Tom and Nus can more than cope if we get a rush.’
George rubbed his forehead and leaned back in his chair, which gave an alarming creak as he did so. ‘Well, I’m not sure, Harriet. It’s very late notice, after all. And now you’re assistant manager, there’s a certain standard you should uphold for the other members of staff.’
Harri folded her arms and surveyed her boss sternly. ‘You mean like the excellent example you set your staff when you finish early for the day to “work at home”? I wasn’t aware you lived at The Fleece now.’
George flushed. ‘I have no idea what you are referring to, Harriet.’
‘That’s funny, then, because I saw Rena Davenport only last week and she said that you two often share a drink when she’s working her afternoon shift in there. I’ll go and tell Nus and Tom, shall I?’
George squirmed in his seat. ‘You know, I really think you should look after yourself more, Harriet,’ he said as authoritatively as he could, even though his voice was more of a squeak when it came out. ‘Why don’t you take the afternoon off?’
Harri feigned surprise. ‘Really? Oh George, that’s so sweet of you. I could just hug you!’
Her boss shrank back like a cockroach from the light, a look of pure terror on his face. ‘That – that won’t be necessary, thank you very much. Public displays of affection are not part of your contract, you know.’
‘Right.’ She took a respectful step back and watched her portly employer visibly relax. ‘Thanks, George.’
‘You’re welcome. Just don’t give me shocks like that on a regular basis, OK? With my angina it could be fatal.’
At three thirty, Harri pushed open the dark wood and stained-glass doors to enter the cosy lounge of the Land Oak. She quickly surveyed the interior but saw only three older men and a woman who was trying (and failing) to pass for forty, her shockingly dyed red hair clashing wildly with the bright fuchsia-pink lipstick painted well over the edges of her lips. With no sign of Annie, Harri ordered a coffee from the bar and found a seat at a plush banquette in one of the pub’s bay windows. She checked her watch and tried to calm the waltzing butterflies in her stomach. What am I doing? she asked herself for the umpteenth time that afternoon.
She was just about to give the whole thing up as a bad job when the lounge door opened and a pretty young woman entered. Harri stood up and waved as the girl thankfully headed over.
‘Annie? I’m Harri.’
‘Hi. I’m so sorry I’m late. I got caught behind a tractor on the A449 and couldn’t overtake for miles.’
‘That’s no problem. Would you like a drink?’
‘Just an orange juice, thanks.’
When Harri returned from the bar, Annie pulled out a rolled copy of Juste Moi, laying it carefully on the polished dark wood table.
‘I read this again this morning.’ Annie smiled nervously. ‘You make him sound really nice.’
‘He is. He’s a nice guy. I think you’ll like him.’
‘Are you kidding? Of course I’ll like him! I mean, look . . .’ she pointed at Alex’s photo grinning up from the curled-edged page, ‘. . . he’s gorgeous!’
‘Hmm.’ Harri took a large gulp of coffee.
Annie looked around. ‘So – um – where is he?’
‘Oh, don’t worry, you’ll meet him later.’
‘Right. Forgive me, I kind of thought we were meeting him here?’
‘No, you’re going to meet him at Wātea, his café. A bit later. I just needed to have a chat with you first, that’s all.’
‘Wow, you’re taking this whole matchmaking thing seriously, aren’t you?’
Harri sighed. ‘You have no idea.’
* * *
By the time Harri and Annie arrived at Wātea, it was nearly five o’clock. Rush-hour traffic was building in the High Street and teenagers in school uniforms were gathered around the low-walled planters in front of Reindeer Court, trying their best to look surly and disenchanted with the world around them.
At Harri’s request, Annie had left the copy of Juste Moi in her car and had been sworn to secrecy over the article. ‘It’s probably best we don’t tell him. He’d only get embarrassed.’
Alex’s brown eyes lit up as soon as they entered, wiping his hands on his denim apron and running a cursory hand through his mussed-up sandy-brown hair. Harri couldn’t help but notice that he had made much more of an effort today than would normally be seen on a Monday. His dark blue T-shirt accentuated the toned muscles in his chest and somehow made his tanned skin glow even more than usual. His baggy jeans looked new, although his red Converse trainers were the usual suspects, and his ever-present Maori bead necklace had been joined by a silver St Christopher (a present from an unnamed female friend, somewhere between Thailand and Indonesia).
‘Hey, Harri,’ he beamed, walking over to meet them. As he reached her side, Harri caught a waft of newly applied after-shave. Blimey, he really was making an effort . . .
‘Hey, Al. I’d like you to meet Annie.’
Annie’s eyes twinkled as she extended her hand to meet Alex’s. ‘Hi, it’s great to meet you. Harri’s told me so much about you.’
‘She has?’ Alex shot Harri a glance and turned the merest shade pinker. ‘I’m afraid she hasn’t told me much about you.’
Annie gave Harri a mock frown and playfully punched her arm. ‘That’s dreadful. Some friend you are.’ She winked and Harri couldn’t help feeling she was trying a little too hard to play the ‘old friend from college’ role that they’d agreed in the pub earlier. ‘So,’ she linked an arm through his, leading him towards the counter, ‘I guess you’ll have to
probe me for information, then.’
Alex looked over his shoulder and mouthed, ‘Thank you!’ as they walked away.
‘My work here is done,’ Harri mumbled to herself, feeling relief flooding every inch of her body as she walked out of Wātea into the fresh air. Looking at her watch, she quickened her pace and headed home. She had the infinitely more exciting prospect of her evening with Rob to look forward to. The thought of his devastating smile and his strong arms around her put an extra spring in her step. This was going to be one special evening.
At seven thirty, Harri drove into October Crescent and parked her car on the short drive in front of Rob’s house. The sun was beginning to dip behind the early evening clouds, gilding everything in rich golden light. Even Rob’s boxy eighties detached house looked halfway decent – no mean feat, considering its tiny dark windows, grey bricks, and uninspiring porch, which always struck Harri as a bit of a half-hearted architectural afterthought, an attempt to make the building look homely. Whilst she absolutely loved Rob, she was certain that she would never possess the same feelings about his house.
Rob opened the door before she reached for the doorbell, a tea towel slung casually over one shoulder, looking more handsome than ever. ‘Hey, beautiful. I’ve been waiting for you.’
Harri leaned in for a long, slow kiss. ‘I like the sound of that.’
‘Mmm, well, if you’re impressed by the welcome then wait till you see what’s inside,’ he winked, making Harri’s stomach flutter. He laced his warm fingers through hers and drew her inside.
Jamie Cullum was crooning seductively from the speakers as Harri walked into the living room, and the whole house was filled with the delicious, spicy aroma of cooking. Harri caught her breath as she saw the table, immaculately laid out with candles, Rob’s best wine glasses, white linen tablecloth and red napkins. The lights had been dimmed and the total effect was stunning.
Rob’s arms encircled Harri’s waist from behind as he drew her close and gently kissed her neck, his breath hot on her skin. ‘You like?’ he whispered in her ear.
Welcome to My World Page 14
