Debbie thought for a moment, then said, ‘Why exactly are you upset? Are you upset because you saw him again, after he let you down? Or are you upset because you still have feelings for him?’
Gill debated this for a second, as much as she was able, and then replied, ‘Both, I guess, but I also want to know why. I’ve always wanted to know why. I thought he just shagged me and left me, once he got what he wanted. And now he turns up and tells me we have stuff to talk about.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘What do you think I should do?’
Debbie shook her head, ‘Gill, I can’t tell you what to do. But you never did get any peace of mind with this. Are you thinking of meeting him, at least to get an explanation?’
Shaking her head and wringing her hands, Gill whispered, ‘I don’t know. I feel as if I don’t know anything anymore.’
‘OK, well, how will you feel if you never see him again and never get to ask him why?’
Gill shook her head again, as if the concept of rational thought was currently beyond her.
‘Do you want to see him again?’ Debbie asked gently.
‘I don’t know,’ Gill said. ‘I’m so confused. I can’t think straight. I keep wondering what he wants to tell me. What does he think he could possibly say that would make me want to listen to him?’
Debbie stayed silent, as she gathered Gill wanted to say something more.
‘It’s just…he seemed so pleased to see me. The smile on his face, it was genuine. Even though he knew, he must have known, I wouldn’t give him a warm welcome.’
‘You don’t need to make up your mind straightaway. You have his number. Wait and see how you feel over the next few days.’
Nodding, Gill agreed that’s what she would do. Unable to eat anything, she ordered coffee and half an hour later, the girls left.
‘Thanks for being there for me, Debbie. I really appreciate it. It has helped talking to you, even if I still don’t know what I’m going to do,’ Gill said ruefully.
‘Don’t mention it. Call me if you need anything, or if you just want to chat. I’m always there, OK?’
The girls hugged and then Gill headed for the bus home, her mind racing.
Next morning, after a fitful night, Gill had more pressing matters to contend with. Overnight, without warning, it had snowed heavily. Buses were unable to run on schedule and cars were abandoned everywhere, as drivers struggled to find grip, particularly going uphill. The gritters had been out, but too late, so their efforts were ineffectual. Gill finally made it to work, an hour and a half late, only to find she was the only person in the office. There was a voicemail from Janice, saying she had had to turn back, as the weather was too bad and had caused the motorway to close. Both Amanda and Angus had left messages saying they were on their way in, but would be late.
Gill made a few calls to clients to arrange meetings for the following week, but after being told three times that the people she sought hadn’t made it into work, she gave up. She was half way through answering e-mails, when Angus showed up, apologetic. Gill waved away his apology, saying it was hardly his fault and asked if he would like some tea. He looked frozen. The temperature was -10C, unusually cold for the central belt. In December, it often reached -2C, but rarely dipped below -4C. The departure from the norm could be felt and Gill turned the heating up as high as it would go. She only hoped the pipes wouldn’t freeze and burst. Amanda arrived soon afterwards, out of breath and blue with cold. After fuelling her with coffee, Gill returned to her office and tried to rid herself of memories of Anton, by burying herself in her work.
It was no use. By lunchtime she had achieved little. Her thoughts kept straying to Anton and why he had seemed so pleased to see her. She kept asking herself the same questions over and over. She was driving herself mad. Before she could change her mind, Gill dug out his card and dialled his number. She hadn’t even decided what she was going to say.
He answered on the third ring, ‘Gill!’ the joy in Anton’s voice was clear. ‘I’m so happy you called.’
‘Anton, I don’t know what this is about, but if you want one more chance to talk to me, meet me tomorrow.’
‘Of course. Where? When?’
It was too painful to meet anywhere associated with their dates, so after thinking for a minute, Gill said, ‘Meet me at the bar inside Central Station at seven o’clock.’
‘OK…’
‘I have to go,’ and Gill hung up. She was shaking and felt physically sick. Finally she was going to find out why he had never called her again. Although angry at him, she also felt a sense of relief. At least she would finally have that oh-so-important closure.
Gill tried too hard that night with Liam. He had definitely noticed something was up. She had never refused intimacy with him, but she found it hard to act naturally around him. She felt as if she was being unfaithful, just by seeing Anton tomorrow.
Thankfully Liam was attending a meeting in London early the next morning, so Gill had the perfect excuse not to stay over. She wished him well on his trip and was relieved by the realisation that Liam wouldn’t even be in the same country when she met Anton in Glasgow.
The snow was still a problem the following day and services continued to be disrupted. Gill went as far as to check that Liam’s plane had managed to leave Glasgow. Again she felt relief that it had. She also felt guilty at feeling relieved. It wasn’t as if she was planning for anything to happen with Anton. She just wanted to hear what he had to say and find out why. Then she could finally cut him out of her life and move on.
The day dragged. Whenever Gill hazarded a glance at the clock on her wall, barely five minutes had passed since the last time she checked. She couldn’t settle to anything. She hadn’t brought a change of clothes. She was going as she was, in her work clothes, to meet Anton. After all, it wasn’t a date – on the contrary.
She turned up late intentionally, arriving at the bar at ten past seven. It was his turn to sweat. He was facing the door, so he wouldn’t miss her. When she came in, he held her gaze for a second then smiled weakly.
He stood up to kiss her hello and Gill held up her hand to stop him, ‘Don’t. You don’t have that right.’
Embarrassed, Anton sat down again.
‘What would you like to drink?’
‘Sparkling mineral water.’
Gill noticed he had a glass of wine in front of him.
‘You wouldn’t prefer anything stronger?’
Actually she could have done with a brandy, but she wanted to be conscious of everything that was said, remember every nuance, without alcohol impairing her senses.
She managed to say, ‘Water’s fine.’ Her voice felt hoarse, as if someone else had spoken.
Anton rose to go to the bar. She noticed he was limping. He returned a few moments later and set the glass on the table, then positioned himself opposite her once again. He gazed at her, as if drinking her in. Then he stared at his hands. He appeared to have difficulty starting the conversation, so Gill broke in, ‘Anton, why did you want to see me?’
He took in every detail of her face, noting the angry set of her jaw, the stiffness in her posture, the vulnerability in her eyes, and sighed. Finally he spoke, ‘Because I love you.’
Gill jumped as if she had been shot, then just as suddenly her body sagged. Could he be any crueller? He had discarded her and now here he was playing mind games.
‘You have a funny way of showing it,’ she hissed at him. ‘I can’t do this. Do you know why I’m here? Do you?’ she was aware that she had raised her voice, but was powerless to stop herself. Anton tried to shush her, but that only served to incite her further. ‘I’m here,’ Gill spat, ‘because I want to know why. That’s all. Why?’
Gill hadn’t realised she had stood up and was towering over Anton, until he guided her gently back into her seat.
‘Gill, it’s a long story.’
‘Well, much as I’d like to use the old cliché, “I have all the
time in the world”, quite frankly I’m limiting how much more of my time I’m going to let you waste,’ Gill seethed.
‘OK. Here’s the condensed version. I fell in love with you, we made love, I went to Minsk, had a road accident two days after I arrived, and got out of hospital last week.’
Anton drew breath, looked at Gill to ensure she had taken in what he had said, and then took a sip of his wine.
Gill stared at him. She couldn’t formulate any words. Finally she managed, ‘If this is your idea of a joke…?’
‘No joke,’ Anton interrupted her. ‘If you don’t believe it, I can get you proof; photos, documents, coverage in the local press.’
Gill didn’t know what to say. She stared at the table, trying to work out what this meant. Anton hadn’t intentionally abandoned her? Anton loved her? This had all been a twist of Fate?
Alarmed by a sharp sound, Gill started, then realised the noise was a hysterical half laugh, half sob, which had burst from her throat.
Dozens of questions and scenarios flitted through her mind. Finally she simply said, ‘What happened?’
‘I was driving from the office back to my hotel, in very heavy rain, when the driver of a car coming from the opposite direction apparently lost control of the wheel, skidded and hit me head-on. He died. I survived, just. I was on the critical list to start with. They managed to stabilise me eventually, but my recovery has been long.’
‘So what injuries did you have?’
‘My pelvis was crushed, I needed surgery for my back, my leg was fractured and in plaster, and I had several cracked ribs. I suppose I was a bit like a broken rag-doll,’ he said sadly.
‘But couldn’t you have called me or e-mailed me?’ the words were out before Gill could stop them. Of course he had more important things on his mind, like getting well. ‘I mean, when you got back. What would have happened if I hadn’t seen you that day in Buchanan St?’
‘I didn’t think I could e-mail you after all this time. I wanted to see you. I looked up your agency. It wasn’t so difficult to find you. Then on Monday I came to your office, but just as I was crossing the road and working out what to say to you, you came out, with a man. You looked,’ it seemed to pain him to say this, ‘as if you were a couple.’
Liam.
The indirect question hung in the air unanswered.
He saw me with Liam and went away. Gill knew it was true. Monday was the only time Liam had come to her office. Her thoughts whirled around inside her head like clothes in a washing machine.
Gill suddenly had problems breathing. Had the shock induced a panic attack? Anton, concerned, escorted her outside to get some fresh air, which she gulped in gratefully.
After a few minutes and after ascertaining she was OK, Anton gestured for them to go back inside and continue their conversation. Gill turned to Anton and he saw the tears coursing down her face. ‘I can’t. I wish things were different and I really wish you hadn’t had that accident, but I thought you had abandoned me. I thought you didn’t care. I’m, I-I-I-m with someone else now and I’m happy.’
Gill noticed the pain cross Anton’s face, the sudden intake of breath, and the glance away from her to hide his feelings. When he turned back to her, he had regained his composure.
‘Gill, we have been very unlucky. I love you, I probably always will, but if you love this man and he makes you happy, then I have to accept that is what’s best for you. Because I love you and no matter how much I wish it were different, I wish you all the best.’ He bent down and kissed her on the cheek and whispered, ‘You can’t know how much I wish things had been different. If you ever need me, I will be there. You have my number,’ and then he turned and walked away from her.
Gill stood for a few minutes, trying to gulp air back into her lungs. She had done it. She knew the reasons. She had closure, so why didn’t she feel happy?
The next few weeks were a tortured time for Gill. Her thoughts strayed often to Anton and the conversation which had taken place with him. She remembered his limp; she didn’t doubt the genuineness of his road accident, nor his reasons for not contacting her. She believed that he thought he loved her. It was all so unsettling. The cosy rapport she had enjoyed with Liam was shattered – the spectre of Anton coming between them.
When she made love to Liam, Anton and the night they had spent together came unbidden into her mind, and left her feeling guilty. Not even the Christmas party and having to dress up in an Abba costume; white satin blouse with a huge collar and puff sleeves, and spangly, flared bellbottoms lifted her spirits. Fortunately her staff had a good time and Gill put on as good an act as she could. She was glad that they had booked places at an event attended by lots of other companies. It made it easier for her to blend into the background, especially with the others constantly up on the dance floor, strutting their stuff to Waterloo and Mamma Mia.
Gill hadn’t heard from Anton since that night. She didn’t expect to. She wondered when she would be able to get him out of her head. It was so unfair. She had seen the hurt in his eyes when she told him she thought he had abandoned her. He had told her he loved her. That night and every night since, she had cried at the injustice of it all.
Christmas Eve rolled around. Gill was glad to be going to her brother’s on Christmas Day. At least she wouldn’t have to be alone with her thoughts then, or try to block them out as she tried to do when with Liam.
Gill felt nervous around Liam that evening, even more than usual since the meeting with Anton. There was something in the air. She couldn’t quite identify it, but there was definitely an undercurrent. Did Liam suspect something? He was very jumpy.
They ate the special dinner which Liam had prepared; a traditional Italian Christmas Eve menu, from one of his many cook books. Apparently it was traditional in Southern Italy to have a fish-based banquet. He toned down the size of the banquet, but he had outdone himself on the content. Gill didn’t like to tell him she didn’t feel like eating a thing, but she ate as much as she could – a lot less than usual. The stuffed lobster was exquisite and Gill felt she didn’t do the seafood risotto justice. It upset her that Liam had gone to so much trouble and she couldn’t enjoy it properly. When he suggested dessert, she groaned and said she was too full.
‘Maybe later then,’ he said. He cleared away the plates, whilst Gill found them a film to watch. Gill wondered why the programmers put all the good films on over two weeks of the year, whilst the rest of the time they were awful.
When Liam entered the room, Gill smiled at him expectantly. She thought he was on the verge of saying something. He bent down in front of her and held out a small box. Only then did Gill realise, he was down on bended knee. Shock, horror, disbelief and incredulity coursed through her.
This can’t be happening.
A smiling Liam, looked up at Gill, from under his floppy fringe and opening the ring box, said, ‘Gill, will you marry me?’
Chapter Forty-Six
Christmas and beyond
When Gill arrived at her brother’s late on Christmas morning, her nephews barrelled into her.
‘Aunt Gill, Aunt Gill, Santa’s been. Look, I got a bike,’ said George.
‘I got a bike, too, and a wrestling ring, and a garage,’ Harry pulled his aunt into the usually tidy living room, which now resembled a war zone.
‘They’re a bit hyper,’ said Sarah. ‘Where’s Liam?’
‘He’s not coming. I’ll tell you later.’
Christopher and Sarah exchanged a look, with Christopher throwing his wife a warning glance not to pry.
Her young nephews had soon roped Gill into playing at cars with them then gave her a blow-by-blow account of what was happening in the wrestling world, by way of a demonstration of who was the meanest wrestler. Interestingly, the boys could rattle off an entire biography of the wrestlers, including the fact that one was from Ayrshire and another hailed from Florida.
‘Did you see John Cena when you went to Florida, Aunt Gill?’
; Sarah rolled her eyes and handed Gill a glass of pink champagne.
‘No, George, I didn’t see him, but I don’t know him, and Florida is a big place,’ Gill sat on the arm of the sofa, as her nephews continued to rat-a-tat questions and statements at her.
Gill surveyed all the presents they had received. Every so often she would hear her phone vibrating. She had put it on vibrate, so it wouldn’t disturb anyone, but she would know if it rang. It had been vibrating non-stop. She knew she’d have to talk to Liam sooner or later, but right now she couldn’t. She tried to focus on what her nephews were telling her, but her mind kept shifting back to the night before, when Liam had asked her to marry him. She hadn’t been able to answer him. She appeared to have lost all power of speech. Liam had given an uneasy laugh and said, ‘Aren’t you going to say anything? You’re making me nervous.’
Finally she had uttered the two words that would change everything.
Christmas dinner was wonderful. She would have expected nothing less from Sarah. Christopher had taken her aside earlier to ask her why Liam wasn’t with her and if she was OK, but she had waved him away and said, ‘Once the kids are in bed. It’s Christmas Day. Let’s focus on them.’
So they had and they watched Toy Story on TV, although Gill was so distracted she couldn’t have told you which Toy Story.
Gill was careful not to drink much, as she didn’t want to cry and she wanted to be compos mentis enough to explain to Christopher and Sarah what had happened.
After dinner, she excused herself, went upstairs, and checked her phone. Forty-two missed calls. Twenty-two messages. Fifteen text messages. With a sinking heart, Gill went back downstairs and helped Sarah clear up. She’d read the texts and listen to the messages later, once she’d told Christopher and Sarah.
With the boys in bed, each settled with their favourite new toy, Sarah brought the three adults Irish coffees.
The Dating Game Page 33
