‘Oh wow,’ said Floz, turning full circle in the space. It was so much nicer being inside than peering through the dirty windows. It was a huge room – and that fireplace . . . She saw it in her mind’s eye full of crackling logs and orange flames.
‘Do you think it’s too big?’ asked Guy, feigning consternation. ‘Do you think it should be divided into two rooms?’
‘No, not at all,’ said Floz. ‘It’s beautiful exactly as it is. I can just see it with a big leather Chesterfield . . .’
‘. . . big leather Chesterfield,’ said Guy at exactly the same time, which made them both chortle.
‘And a huge Chinese rug,’ said Floz.
‘Red,’ said Guy, seeing the same room that Floz did. ‘Huge logs on the fire . . .’
‘And that is the ideal spot for your Christmas tree,’ smiled Floz, pointing to the corner where the stairs were overlooked by a galleried landing. The space could have easily accommodated a thirteen-foot tree.
Guy saw it, all the presents around the base of it, rocking horses, teddy bears, candy canes, a puppy snuffling out his bone-present.
They both laughed and turned to each other and when their eyes locked the moment was somehow too intense.
‘Come and look at the kitchen.’ Guy strode in and showed Floz around. It needed a total refurb, obviously, but it was a lovely square shape.
Opposite to the kitchen was a smaller room, with huge windows giving a view of what might one day be a flowery cottage garden and the farm fields beyond. Floz imagined herself sitting at a desk by this window, the scent of honeysuckle drifting in as she wrote some lovely Valentine’s verse that flowed out of her because she was so loved up.
Guy beckoned her up the stairs. He was like a giddy kitten. It was all going too well. His brain had raced ahead. He was way past the stage of asking Floz out on a date. He was carrying her up these stairs in her bridal gown and her fingers were already working on his shirt buttons.
He pushed open the door to the largest bedroom with windows in two walls and knobbly beams running across the ceiling. Floz sighed at its loveliness. She saw a four-poster and Guy throwing her playfully onto it. She was dressed in a white bridal gown, laughing as she kicked off her shoes.
She knew she was blushing and turned away to the door which he took as a sign to move to the next room, a smaller, but not by much, L-shaped bedroom with built-in old oak cupboards a foot and a half deep. Guy saw two children in here, books and toys on the shelves, GWE duvet covers and curtains with Steve’s face on them.
Next door was a darling country cottage bathroom with a hideous avocado suite in it, and down two steps another bedroom with views over the countryside.
Floz realized she had probably been sighing for ten full minutes. She laughed at herself.
‘And that concludes the guided tour of Hallow’s Cottage.’ Guy smiled and bowed.
‘It’s gorgeous.’ Floz gave him a burst of applause, following him back downstairs to the lounge. She was amazed that she wasn’t in some chocolate-box Dorset village but on the edge of an industrial northern town. ‘I’m so glad you’re buying it. It’s going to be stunning.’
‘Sorry I can’t offer you a cup of tea,’ he said. ‘I should have brought a flask, shouldn’t I?’ Damn, why didn’t he think of that sooner?
‘Ah, don’t worry.’
‘You’ll have to come back when I have electricity,’ he said. Ooh, nice. He hadn’t planned to say that, but it was a lovely little opener.
‘Thank you, I will,’ Floz nodded. Her heart gave a thrilled little skip inside her. Yeeesss!
‘I can’t wait to finish it and move in,’ said Guy. ‘I can’t wait to cook in that kitchen and sleep in that bedroom upstairs. I can’t wait to fall asleep in front of that log fire. I can’t wait to . . .’
‘Have a bath in the avocado suite,’ giggled Floz.
‘Yeah right, like I’m going to leave that in,’ laughed Guy.
His eyes are so warm and bright, thought Floz. She wanted to drag her fingers through the waves of his thick hair and pull his lips down to hers.
‘And boy, I can’t wait to see that Christmas tree,’ said Guy. He caught her eyes again. They were so green, he thought. Green as that Christmas tree they would have one day in the corner.
‘Can you imagine this place at Christmas!’ said Floz.
‘What kid is not going to believe that Santa comes down the chimney and out of that fireplace? Can’t you just see a row of stockings hanging up there?’
Floz turned to look at the fireplace. She had her back to him when she said, ‘Children would love this house. They’d have such wonderful memories of it when they grew up.’
Guy felt overjoyed that Floz was so much on his wavelength.
‘I’ve never wanted them myself,’ she added, still facing away from him. ‘I’m happy for Juliet, of course, but motherhood isn’t for me.’
Guy raised his eyebrows. He didn’t see that one coming. He hadn’t time to fully process what she had said because she carried on speaking.
‘In fact, I’m looking forward to getting my own flat for one when I move out. Being around Juliet and Steve has made me totally realize how much I want to be on my own for the considerable future. No flat-mates or relationships.’
‘Really?’ said Guy, his voice hardly louder than a whisper.
‘Yep,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking that I may go and live somewhere warm and abroad for the winter. The good thing about my job is that I can work anywhere in the world really, so long as I have some internet access to send my stuff over. I’m a careerwoman and in the next few years I’m going to give my writing total focus. In fact, that reminds me, I’d better get home because I’ve got a deadline to meet.’
She turned back to him and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
‘Yes, of course,’ said Guy. ‘Well, thanks for coming. I did need a woman’s advice on what I should do with the lounge – if I should divide it up or not.’
‘Don’t do it.’ Floz strode towards the door. She looked like a different person from the one who had been standing in the room with him minutes before. This one was much colder, missiling vibes of untouchability. It couldn’t have been more obvious that she suspected he was going to ask her out and was trying to stop him making a tit of himself. It was no less a rejection for him, her not actually saying the words.
He put a brave face on as he drove her back, appearing friendly but not really able to work out what he had said to make her slam down the shutters on him.
He dropped her off at the flat and waved goodbye. There was no apparent awkwardness between them, but some bridge that connected them had collapsed. Guy felt all the lovely pictures of the cottage’s future burn at the edges, and crumble into ash.
Floz closed the door of the flat and stood behind it. Maybe she had unwittingly spoken the truth. Maybe she should move away, put everything she had into driving her career forward, put in more hours, write more copy. She would have to, to kill those pictures of Guy Miller and Christmas trees and log fires that were dancing in her brain.
Chapter 84
‘Well?’
‘It’s a no go,’ said Guy.
‘Oh you are frigging joking!’ Steve could have thrown the phone against the wall. ‘How come?’
‘I honestly don’t know.’ Guy had torn the conversation apart so many times but couldn’t pinpoint what he had said to make Floz back off. He’d concluded that he would never know. He had driven himself half-nuts trying to work it out. Probably full-nuts.
‘Maybe she didn’t realize you were flirting with her,’ tried Steve, but it sounded weak even to him.
‘Believe me,’ said Guy. ‘She knew I was about to say how I felt, and she didn’t want to hear it. There’s nothing else it could be.’
‘At least you’ve not fallen out,’ Steve tried. He was so crap at making people feel better.
Guy just said, ‘Aye.’ But it was no comfort to know that somewhere out th
ere was a man for Floz to love and it wasn’t him. Nor would he have any future chance of it being him if she did as she said she might, and moved abroad. ‘Anyway, never mind about me. Are you ready for the off tomorrow?’
‘Oh yes,’ grinned Steve. He was in the middle of packing his suitcase because the following day he was flying off to the headquarters of Global Wrestling Enterprises in Connecticut to meet with Will Milburn himself. He was spending four days there in all and he couldn’t wait. He was more excited than a kid going over to Disneyland.
‘Have a great time, mate,’ said Guy, genuinely pleased that Steve was getting his overdue break.
‘I will,’ nodded Steve. ‘And look, as far as Floz is concerned, don’t write it off until the fat lady sings.’
Alas, Juliet picked that very moment to come out of the bathroom behind him, trilling, ‘I’m leaving on a jet plane.’
Chapter 85
Juliet was moping around the flat. Steve had only been gone for two nights and she could hardly bear the separation.
Floz threw a bridal magazine at her.
‘Here, look at some pretty pictures and take your mind off Steve,’ she said.
‘He’s having a ball, bless him,’ smiled Juliet. ‘He said that Will Milburn really likes his persona and wants to put him on contract. This is all his Christmases rolled into one. But I don’t half miss him. My bed feels huge and empty at night. I used to think when people said that, they were exaggerating. I loved it when Roger was away on business and I had the bed to myself. But I hate going to bed without Steve.’
‘Aw,’ said Floz, with a soppy grin. ‘It must be love.’
‘It is,’ nodded Juliet. ‘Did you used to like sleeping with your husband?’
Floz shook her head to get rid of the mental image of herself in bed with Chris. She could no longer remember him as the man she married, only as the scraggy drunk making a fool of himself in town.
‘Sorry,’ Juliet apologized.
‘It’s fine,’ Floz said. ‘I must have, I suppose. Once upon a time.’
‘Was he an alcoholic when you met him?’ Juliet asked.
‘No,’ replied Floz. ‘He liked a drink, but nothing excessive. It was only when his shop started to go downhill that he turned to the bottle. He said the oblivion gave him some mercy.’
‘From his financial troubles?’ pressed Juliet.
‘Yes.’ And his heartbreak. Floz took a deep breath.
‘Floz, do you fancy coming shopping with me tomorrow for some more baby things?’
‘I’d love to,’ lied Floz, ‘but I can’t. I’ve got a deadline to meet. I can’t let Lee down.’
‘No worries,’ sighed Juliet, reaching for her bottle of Gaviscon to relieve some heartburn. ‘I’ll have to take my mother then.’
‘She’ll enjoy that,’ said Floz. ‘Right, back to the job in hand. Flowers. What colour and how many?’
Chapter 86
Steve came back home like a new man. He was beaming from ear to ear at all the schmoozing he had been doing in America with Will Milburn and his men. He had signed a two-year contract with GWE which would officially start on 1 January, and he’d be earning more money than he dreamed of. He was to be introduced as The Archangel – long-lost angelic brother of the Gravedigger, who was the big name at GWE. It was all going to take some getting used to, but with Juliet at his side, he reckoned he could manage it. She made him feel that he was capable of achieving anything – give or take a Physics A-level. He couldn’t wait to marry her. He drove like a madman over to her flat to see her after landing home. Within minutes, she had dragged him off to bed for reunion sex. Juliet’s pregnancy hormones had made her more insatiable than ever.
Over the next couple of weeks, in between all the lovemaking, Juliet and Steve were running around like headless chickens organizing flowers and invitations and a wedding photographer. Floz, meanwhile, was busy writing card briefs. Ploughing all her mental energies into her work stopped her thinking too much about having to leave Blackberry Court – and Guy Miller. Why hadn’t she just explained things to him when he took her over to Hallow’s Cottage? He had been about to ask her out, she knew. But instead of turning frosty and confusing him, she should have told him straight why they couldn’t cross a barrier and start a relationship. She hadn’t seen him since. He was too busy supervising the changes in the new restaurant. It seemed each of them was grateful to have something on which to focus.
Floz had just taken a break from looking for flats on the internet. There was a possible on Greenfield Lane that she had made an appointment to see at six o’clock, but it wasn’t filling her with excitement. She was brewing a pot of tea when she heard voices outside the flat door. Two seconds later, Juliet, Grainne and Coco fell in laden with boxes.
‘Hiya!’ yelled Coco with exhausted breaths. ‘It’s us. We’ve been shopping, can you tell?’
‘Mum won’t let me bring the cot up,’ said Juliet, dropping the parcels and feeling her muscles sigh with relief. ‘One: it would break my sodding back and two: she says it’s bad luck. Have you ever heard anything so daft as it being bad luck?’
‘I’m with your mum on this one,’ said Floz, getting out extra cups and adding more water and an extra tea bag to the teapot. ‘Don’t risk flying in the face of superstition.’
‘Floz, do you remember when you said you didn’t use that storage cupboard in your room?’ said Juliet. ‘Is that still the case?’
‘Yep,’ said Floz, ‘why?’
‘Do you think I could put some baby stuff in it?’ asked Juliet. ‘I’ve run out of space. Everything is so damned bulky.’ She pointed to her new purchases which she had picked up from Babyworld on the way home – an activity gym and a car seat. She had just bought the one for now but she knew her forthcoming scan would tell her she needed two.
‘Course,’ said Floz.
‘Ta, you’re a love. Can you imagine strapping a little tiny baby in here?’ beamed Juliet.
‘Yes,’ said Floz, but she didn’t let her imagination go down that particular avenue.
Chapter 87
Number 27, Greenfield Lane was a neat little semi-detached house on the outside, made up of two flats. The one being advertised was on the top floor. The landlord, Mr Selby – a sweaty, portly man who huffed and puffed all the way up the stairs – wasn’t in the least embarrassed that the entrance and staircase needed a good vacuum and a couple of containersful of Shake ’n’ Vac.
‘Bathroom, bedroom, lounge, kitchen,’ he pointed, looking as if he were making a horizontal sign of the cross.
The bathroom was a decent size, but smelly. The water in the loo was yellow and stinky, as the last person to wee in it hadn’t flushed it. There were no pictures floating around Floz’s head of how it could be transformed. The kitchen was basic, ancient MFI’s cheapest units. The floor was carpeted and thick with grease. The lounge was small and square and characterless. It had a sofa in it that looked as if it had been dragged out of a skip. The bedroom wasn’t much better. The thought of going to sleep on that stained mattress made Floz feel slightly queasy. Like the princess with the pea, she rather thought she would feel that stain however many undersheets she had.
‘Gas and electricity on a meter,’ said Mr Selby. ‘Like I said on the phone, two months in advance, all breakages to be paid for. I take a five-hundred-pound bond an’ all. Refundable when you leave if you haven’t broke owt.’
‘When can I let you know?’ said Floz, smiling and trying not to look as if the thought of moving in here made her want to cry.
‘Now if you can,’ said Mr Selby. He seemed surprised that she wasn’t instantly taken with it.
‘Well, I’ve got another place to see first,’ fibbed Floz.
‘Where’s that then?’
‘Oh, er . . . Bretton.’
Please don’t ask me where in Bretton, prayed Floz. But he didn’t. He just shepherded her down the stairs and said, ‘Right then. I can’t hold it for you. If someone gives me a defini
te, they can have it, you know.’
‘I perfectly understand,’ said Floz. ‘Thank you so much.’
But Mr Selby had turned away from her after the ‘Thank’. He could obviously sense that she would rather cut off her own ear than lived in his stinky, grotty flat, which would probably not be half-bad for a good scrub and a few new carpets.
Floz sat in her car and rested her head on the steering wheel. She had never liked change, hated being ripped away from houses after daring to grow a few roots. The trouble was that being ripped away from the Miller family felt more than an uprooting. It felt like pulling out her heart.
She made a plan that as soon as Juliet had got married, she would move into the first place she could find – even if it was just for a little while. And if Greenfield Lane was still on the market, she would take a deep breath, buy a supermarket aisle’s-worth of cleaning products and rent it.
Chapter 88
Three days later Guy stood in the restaurant and wondered again what the hell he had taken on. The main walls were all newly plastered, and big wet patches where it hadn’t yet dried made it look as if it was riddled with damp. The old drapes had been pulled off the windows in a storm of dust and cobwebs. All the cheap tables and chairs had been removed, the disgusting lampshades skipped, and the space looked vast and more like a cavernous – and grotty – dance hall.
He tried to imagine it after the decorators had been in and painted the walls in subtle green and creams, with the new light fittings added, the heavy, beautiful drapes at the window . . . but today he couldn’t. He was tired. And he wanted to do all this with someone and for someone – and there was no one, not even someone he could dream about. Sandra’s voice called him to the office. She had found some very promising possibles for new staff. Oh, and she showed him a letter that said Varto was suing them for five million pounds.
An Autumn Crush Page 30
