‘And how much would a trip to Canada have cost you? Not just in money, but in more wasted emotion?’
‘I feel such a fool,’ said Floz wearily. Her nerves felt like she had just disembarked from a very long and wild roller-coaster.
‘You’re not a fool,’ said Guy. His hand was so close to hers on the table. It was huge. She imagined Nick having hands like that – long fingers that stroked and held. Nick Nick Nick. ‘Floz, the most intelligent of people get drawn in by these weirdos. For the record, having seen the letters, I would bet anything that this guy cared for you. He knew you were the genuine article and I think he got himself wrapped up in a fantasy that he so wanted to be real. I also think the death of his son totally screwed him up and he was trying to claw his way back into the past. I . . .’
‘Please, no more,’ said Floz. She was so hideously embarrassed to think that anyone could have seen what was in her heart. Guy especially – the person most likely to think her a total tit. She had poured out her heart in those letters, believing they were for Nick’s eyes only, and now loads of people had seen them. They all knew now that not even her own parents loved her.
‘I had a friend once,’ began Guy. He couldn’t believe he had started to tell this story, but as he thought it would help Floz, he was prepared to go to that dark place again. ‘We only went out a couple of times before we split up. She wasn’t the type I usually go for, she was so small and fragile and I wanted to protect her, but boy was she hard work. She was hooked on the drama of dysfunctional men treating her badly and she couldn’t cope with the fact that I respected her – so it ended. But we managed to stay friends. Her name was Lacey. Lacey Robinson. We trained at the same cookery college.’
He stopped then, wondering if Floz wanted to hear this tale of damned misery, but she nodded at him to go on.
‘She was obsessive when she fell in love: that person became the centre of her being. It wasn’t healthy. The man would finish it – or disappear – then she’d turn to me as the only friend in her life and cry on my shoulder. Then one day she hooked up with this Jamie bloke – on the net – who was “perfect”. He ticked every box. He was the Mr Right. He lived in Durham so they didn’t get to see each other that much, and that’s why it kept the flame alight. They’d meet in romantic restaurants for lunch – never at his house, and she never stayed overnight. She was planning to leave her life here and go up there to live with him.
‘Then one day he just stopped contacting her. He wouldn’t answer his phone, texts, emails . . . She nearly went crazy, ripping herself to shreds trying to work out what she had done to cause him to do that. So she drove up there. How the hell she didn’t crash I don’t know. He wouldn’t come out of the house, so she sat outside it for hours – then his girlfriend arrived. Seems that Mr Loverman was really a Mr Love-rat, thriving on the excitement of reeling girls in and then cutting them loose when they got too close. He got off on the chase and didn’t give a toss what heartache he caused in the process. Needless to say, Lacey was devastated. She rang me when she got home to tell me all about it, but she sounded all right, as if she was handling it okay. She said that finding out the truth had released her from him and that she was fine. Totally fine. I shouldn’t have believed her, because she was never fine. But I was working hard, and tired, and I didn’t check up on my hunch and drive over. That night she filled herself with pills and alcohol, slit her wrists and killed herself.’
‘Oh, Guy, surely you couldn’t blame yourself for that?’
‘I could have saved her if I’d gone over,’ said Guy, coughing down the rising emotion in his throat. ‘I still dream about the pain she must have suffered, killing herself like that. I went off the rails a bit, to be honest. Steve has babysat me, wrestled bottles of vodka off me and put me to bed more times than I care to remember. Trust me, Floz, you can’t drown your sorrows because they’re bloody Gold Medallist Olympic swimmers, and no one knows that better than me. I lost my job, got arrested for fighting, totally lost my way in the world. Kenny Moulding might have taken his pound of flesh from me over the years, but he gave me a job when no one else would.’
‘You mustn’t blame yourself for her death,’ Floz repeated gently. ‘Some people are born with a self-destruct button, and once it is activated, there is nothing you can do to override it.’
‘I wish I could believe that.’
Floz thought for a moment before speaking.
‘I know I’m right, Guy, because I knew someone once who was like that.’ She paused. ‘He had a wife and his own business and a nice house. Then . . .’ So many dark days. So much going wrong. So much sadness. ‘His business started to fail. He needed to plough money into it to rescue it, but he didn’t have it and he couldn’t raise it. So, when the banks rejected him, he turned to gambling, hoping for that one big win that would rescue him.’ He enjoyed the gambling. The excitement blotted out all the sadness.
‘I’m presuming he didn’t get the win,’ said Guy.
‘Actually, in the beginning he was very lucky. Maybe if he hadn’t had that initial luck, things might have been different. Then that luck changed – but he was convinced that it would come back, that his one big win was just around the corner. Guy, he ended up gambling away everything they had. His wife just couldn’t reach him. He’s one of the town drunks now. One of the idiots who sits on the bench outside the public toilets with cheap cider and strong beer.’ That’s why I don’t go into town much, in case I see him. In case I see my ex-husband. ‘I used to look at those drunks and wonder how they got to that place in life, where they came from, what they once were. They weren’t born swigging from cans.’
‘He didn’t kill himself though, Floz. There’s a difference.’
‘No, but he disappeared into himself, didn’t care about anyone but himself – and he is killing himself, only his method is a much slower one. No one could stop him, his button was pressed and there was no turning back. His wife lost everything too, but she chose to carry on and survive. It’s very hard trying to protect someone who is hell-bent on harming themselves. But they are locked in a world of one person and they throw away the key.’ And until recently I never appreciated that slope would be so easy to slide down.
Guy’s hand closed over hers and he squeezed it. It was large and safe, she thought. Hers was small and chilled, he thought. There was a comfortable silence in the room, a sweet air of calm.
Floz said in a humbled voice: ‘Please don’t tell Juliet or Steve about any of this.’ His hand was still on hers and she liked it. His thumb made a single tentative stroke against her wrist.
‘I wouldn’t do that,’ said Guy. ‘Our secret, eh?’
His eyes were kind and warm as a grey wolf’s coat. Floz realized then how Lacey could have found brief respite from her heartbreaks, being folded and held in his arms. She wanted them to fold around her. She wanted to be held. She wanted to be held against the protective bulk of Guy Miller.
Then Juliet and Steve crashed into the flat and their hands sprang apart.
‘Hellooo, it’s only us. Ooooh . . .’ Juliet spotted Guy. ‘What are you doing here at this time?’ Her eyebrows rose.
‘Oy, nothing like that,’ said Guy. ‘I just popped in to see if . . .’ Oh bloody hell, he couldn’t think of a viable excuse why he was there alone with Floz at this hour.
‘. . . if you were back,’ Floz jumped in. ‘Because Guy wanted to see Steve about . . . er . . . the suits for the wedding.’
‘Yes, I did,’ said Guy, mouthing ‘thank you’ at Floz when Juliet turned to look at Steve.
‘I hope you’re not just going to go out and get something without coordinating with me,’ said Juliet, planting her hands firmly on her waist.
‘No,’ said Guy. ‘But suits in our size aren’t going to be easy to find off the peg, so I thought we’d better get cracking on some research sooner rather than later.’
‘There’s that seamstress on Lamb Street.’
‘Seamstress?’ said G
uy and Steve together.
‘If you let me finish,’ growled Juliet. ‘She’s married to a tailor and they turn stuff around really quickly. She stuck her neck out for women’s lib and got a Thai husband.’
‘Good idea,’ said Steve. ‘Shall we take a drive out now whilst you’re here, Guy?’
‘Why not.’
Steve dropped Juliet’s suitcase and hurried Guy out.
‘Right, mate,’ he said. ‘What’s going on with you two then?’
Sometimes men were worse than women for gossip.
‘You all right?’ asked Juliet, as softly as she was able with her gruff smoky voice. ‘I was thinking about you.’
‘Yes, I’m good,’ said Floz, pouring Juliet a cup of tea from the pot. ‘Guy told me about Lacey.’
‘He’s too kind about her,’ said Juliet. ‘She was a self-obsessed bitch. I could have zapped her back to life and killed her all over again for what she put Guy through. Did he tell you that she wrote No one loves me and I hate you all and other lovely things all over her walls? She wanted to hurt the bloke who dumped her far more than she wanted to live. In her case it was a total waste because he didn’t give a toss. She ended up crucifying Guy instead, because he was the one who drove over to her house and found her.’
Floz’s hands shot up to her mouth. ‘No, he didn’t tell me that.’
‘I never really gave Steve credit for what he did for Guy during those years when my brother fell apart,’ said Juliet. ‘He was the only one big enough to drag him out of fights and throw him into bed when he was off his head on booze. I was too busy seeing the Steve I wanted to see, not the lovely, kind man he is. I got too used to not liking him. Thank God I came to my senses because I really am so lucky that he is my man.’
‘You are,’ said Floz with a wide smile.
‘I wish you could find your own Steve, Floz,’ said Juliet, her eyes looking glassier with every second.
‘Me too,’ said Floz.
‘Jesus, these bloody hormones!’ Juliet half-laughed, half-sobbed as she reached for the tissues.
That night Floz tossed and turned in bed, the whole Nick Vermeer story tumbling heavily around in her head. She knew she had to end this for herself – write to him and tell him exactly what she thought.
I should have suspected as soon as you sent me the fictitious birth-date – because you once told me it was October, I remembered. What a very convincing liar you are. What an absolute twisted sick bastard. I hate you . . .
Her heart was pounding, expletives were pumping out of her brain, then a vision of Lacey’s Jamie crashed into her head. Like Lacey, she so wanted to hurt Chas Hanson back. But what guarantee was there that would happen? What good would it do? He had to know he was a sick man without the need for her to spell it out to him. She thought of the violent way his son had killed himself. How big must the wound be inside him to have raised a child and loved him and then have to bury him after he took his own life in such a terrible and violent and wasteful way?
Floz vented her spleen onto the page, cleansed herself of all she would have said to Chas Hanson, had he appeared before her. Then, after she had filled in the last full stop, she hit the delete button. The charge of the words remained in the air somewhere but they would not be delivered to Chas to add to his pain.
Chapter 79
‘ Well?’
Juliet emerged from the dressing room looking like an oversized toilet-roll cover. She made a gypsy bride look subtle. Floz tried not to laugh, but Coco had no such qualms and the pair of them fell onto each other giggling.
‘I told you I’d look a twat!’ Juliet’s lip was pulled back over her teeth. ‘And I don’t want white. I want something a bit different, a bit me.’
‘This is the best fun I’ve had in years,’ said Coco, wiping the tears from his eyes. ‘It’s funnier than the Morecambe and Wise André Previn sketch!’
‘If I might suggest something like this,’ said the lovely lady who ran the shop. Her name badge said Freya and she was tall and elegant, with a calming effect like Prozac upon nervous brides.
Freya held out a long, plain, sleeveless dress which flowed outwards. It was the palest shade of gold, and Juliet’s party all gasped in unison.
‘Now that is gorgeous.’ Juliet took the hanger and sighed at the colour.
‘Very autumnal, don’t you think?’ Freya smiled. ‘And we can dye the shoes and veil to match.’
Juliet zipped the dressing-room curtain shut, after telling Freya that she didn’t need any help. Minutes later she emerged, the perfect vision of a bride in her own mould. The smile on her face was bigger than a new moon.
‘How bloody gorgeous am I in this?’
Coco’s eyes filled up with tears and he started flapping his hands like a deranged seal.
‘Oh, that is the one! Ju, you look stunning.’
Juliet looked at herself in the mirror. Her stomach would have grown with the baby when she got married – in twenty-seven days’ time – but that didn’t matter because the style of the gown would disguise her bump. She felt beautiful in that dress and she so wanted to look beautiful for Steve. Her husband and the father of her babies. She used the plural because she knew she was carrying twins. Not officially – but she knew. In the same way she had secretly known she was pregnant before the test picked it up.
‘Right, we need to sort out my bridesmaids,’ said Juliet, as Freya unzipped her. ‘We’ll start with the female one.’
When Freya suggested a brown dress for Floz, Coco and Juliet wrinkled up their noses, but they should have trusted the lady. She brought out three gowns in deepest chocolate. The first was too fussy and made Floz look rather dumpy, but the second, a shoulderless gown with a matching bolero jacket, totally complemented her lovely curvy shape.
‘Oh Floz, I just want to lick you,’ said Coco. ‘Not in a sexual way – I’m not on the turn, don’t worry – but you look as if you are made out of Dairy Milk.’
Floz’s red hair looked on fire against the deep brown of the material. Freya visualized her with tiny leaves threaded into her hair rather than a headdress. Again, she was right. She loosely caught up Floz’s hair with tiny leaf-decorated pins. She said she could replicate those leaves by stitching tiny ones onto Juliet’s veil, but then Juliet spotted a tall golden tiara reflecting more light than a disco ball – and the deal was sealed.
Juliet was ecstatic because everything was coming together faster than she expected. Coco chose a huge dandy cravat in a matching shade of chocolate. He had a sudden vision of himself in that and a green suit, so the next stop was the town-centre tailors where he was fortunate to find an off-the-peg number and a shirt that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Mr Darcy.
Juliet sighed, looking at the rack of men’s jackets and trousers. She thought of Steve in a suit, she thought of him taking that suit off on his wedding night and commanding that she strip off immediately. He was so domineering in private. She held that image in her mind for a minute, then rang to tell him and Guy to get their arses down to the White Wedding shop in Maltstone to check out the dark brown cravats. They were out getting measured for their suits today.
As they left the menswear shop, Juliet noticed how edgy Floz was in town, looking around her as if she expected someone to leap out at her. Floz, she had noticed, rarely came into the centre of Barnsley. If she needed to shop, she always went to Meadowhall.
‘What’s up, Floz?’ Juliet laughed. ‘Are you trying to avoid someone?’
‘Yes,’ said Floz. She felt it was time to trust her friends. She took a deep breath. ‘My ex-husband. I don’t want to bump into him.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ said Juliet. ‘I’ve seen Roger a couple of times in town with Hattie and not enjoyed the experience. Isn’t it funny how people who were once so close to you can become such strangers?’
Floz nodded, then she took a deep breath before diving into a big lake of trust. ‘Remember that drunk we saw once, singing, the one the police took away?
That was my ex-husband.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Coco. ‘No wonder you ran off for chocolate.’
‘I bet you’re nearly as sick thinking that you once shagged him as I am about Roger.’ Juliet pulled a revolted face, making Floz chuckle.
There, that wasn’t so hard, was it – letting people in?
‘Let’s go to the Yorkshire Rose and have lunch,’ suggested Coco.
‘How about we go to that little bistro at the side of Hobbyworld instead,’ countered Floz.
‘But I’m starving now!’ Coco’s bottom lip protruded.
‘We’ll be there in fifteen minutes, and it’s lovely,’ pressed Floz.
‘I agree,’ said Juliet. ‘Let’s do that. Floz doesn’t want to bump into her ex so let’s not force her to stay in town.’
‘Sorry, Floz,’ said Coco. ‘You being comfortable is way more important than my stomach. Let’s drive to Sheffield.’
After lunch they poured into Hobbyworld to source table decorations. Floz found some darling little heart-shaped golden favour boxes and some tiny firework embellishments. They bought place-name cards and table confetti and serviettes patterned with leaves because the manager of the Oak Leaf had said that if they wanted anything other than white serviettes, they would have to supply them. It was by far one of the nicest shopping days that Juliet had ever spent.
And tonight they were all going out with Steve’s wrestling lot after the matches had finished. He was the good guy tonight – complete with big angel wings. Juliet quite fancied making love to an angel. She made a mental note to remind him to bring that costume over to the flat afterwards.
Chapter 80
The Centennial Rooms were half-empty that night. The South Yorkshire Herald had failed to put an advert in to drum up a crowd, Steve had texted her earlier. It didn’t recognize wrestling as a true sport, apparently, and so wouldn’t support it. Juliet was furious when she walked in and saw so many vacant seats. ‘Snotty bastard incompetent paper,’ she said to Floz. ‘They won’t cover an event like this, but if you grow the biggest tomato in Wombwell, you’ll be on the damned front page.’
An Autumn Crush Page 28
