by Jill Mansell
Woooooop went the dark green Mercedes on the other side of the road as Doug pointed a key at it.
Unless… unless he was lying when he said he’d let her win.
‘Right, you can carry the bags with the clothes in. They’re not so heavy.’ He opened the boot. ‘I’ll deal with the boxes of books.’
Books. If there was one thing Lola was the queen of, it was carrying piles of books. Who needed to lift weights in a gym when you worked at Kingsley’s?
Reaching past Doug she slammed the boot shut.
‘Jesus!’ He snatched his hand away in the nick of time. ‘You nearly had my fingers off! What d’you think you’re playing at?’
‘I don’t believe you lost on purpose. I think that’s just your excuse.’ Pushing up the sleeve of her sweater to give her elbow some grip, Lola angled herself up against the corner of the car’s boot and waggled her fingers. ‘So we’ll just find out, shall we? On your marks, get set…’
‘I tell you what,’ said Doug, ‘why don’t we just carry my sister’s things into the flat?’
‘Chicken.’
‘Lola, let me open the boot.’
‘Clucka-lucka-luck.’
He gave her a raised-eyebrow look. ‘What?’
OK, if she hadn’t been a teeny bit squiffy she possibly wouldn’t have done that. ‘It’s my chicken impression.’
‘Not exactly John Cleese, are you?’
‘Ooh, I saw John Cleese once,’ Lola said excitedly. ‘In a delicatessen.’
‘He must have been thrilled. Can we get the stuff out now?’
She waggled her fingers once more. ‘You’re really scared I’ll win, aren’t you?’
‘I don’t believe this.’ Heaving a sigh, Doug pushed up the sleeve of his pale grey sweatshirt, assumed the position against the car and clasped Lola’s right hand. Her heart lolloped as his warm fingers closed around hers. She could feel his breath on her face, smell the aftershave he was wearing, see the glint of stubble on his jaw, imagine the way his mouth would feel if she were to kiss him right now…
Like premature ejaculation it was all over far too soon. CLONK went the back of her forearm against the boot of the Mercedes.
‘That’s not fair,’ Lola wailed. ‘I wasn’t ready.’
‘Correction. You weren’t strong enough.’ He paused. ‘What are you doing now?’
‘Nothing. Just looking at you.’ She’d seen a lot of eyes in her life but none more beautiful than Dougie’s. He had the thickest, darkest eyelashes of any man she’d ever known.
‘Well, stop it. I don’t trust what’s going on here. All of a sudden you’re persuading my sister to move into the flat next to yours and I want to know why.’
‘I didn’t persuade her. It was her decision. But I’m glad she chose to,’ said Lola. ‘Because I like Sally. We get on well together. And I’d rather have her living next door than the geeky nerdy type who would have moved in if she hadn’t come along in the nick of time.’
‘Is that the only reason?’
‘Of course!’
‘Now why don’t I believe you? Oh yes, that’s right, because you’re a mercenary liar. Take these.’ Having sprung open the boot once more, Doug dumped a huge pink canvas holdall in Lola’s arms.
‘How many times can I say I’m sorry?’
‘Forget it. Not interested.’ There was that muscle again, twitching away in his jaw as he hauled out two boxes of books. ‘Just so long as you aren’t still harboring some kind of plan to persuade me to change my mind about you, because that’s not going to happen.’
‘I know. You told me that last week.’ Honestly, whatever happened to forgive and forget?
***
‘… then we went back to my flat and tore each other’s clothes off. We had wild sex all night long and it was… ooh, fabulous!’
‘Nice try, Pinocchio.’ Cheryl carried on stacking books on a table in readiness for an author to come in and do a stock-signing. ‘So what really happened?’
What had really happened was far less encouraging. Lola pulled a face and said, ‘He emptied the car, dumped Sally’s things in her flat, and drove off.’
‘Oh dear. So you won’t be bringing him along to Bernini’s tomorrow night. I was looking forward to meeting him.’
Tomorrow night was their work’s Christmas party. This year for some reason someone had suggested it should be fancy dress and in a moment of madness Lola had agreed. ‘I wouldn’t inflict that on Dougie. I’m not sure he’s the dressing-up-like-an-idiot kind.’
‘Plus,’ Cheryl helpfully pointed out, ‘he’s not exactly your number one fan at the moment.’
‘I know, I know.’ Lola began folding the books’ jacket flaps to the title pages to make signing speedier. Too ashamed to reveal the whole truth, she had left out the money aspect; as far as Cheryl was concerned, all that had happened was that Dougie had reacted badly to being chucked.
‘Oh, cheer up,’ said Cheryl. ‘If anyone can win him round, you can. Think about it, meeting up with your first love again is fate! It’s romantic! You made a mistake before, but there’s no reason why you can’t give things another whirl, especially if he’s as gorgeous as you say he—oh, hello!’
Looking up, Lola saw that the man who wasn’t a private detective was on the other side of the table.
‘Hi.’ He greeted them both with a friendly smile.
‘How did you get on with…?’ Bugger, out of the books she’d recommended, Lola couldn’t remember which one he’d ended up buying.
‘It was great. I’m going to try the other author you mentioned. It’s just that he’s written a whole lot of them and I wasn’t sure if I should start with the first in the—’
‘Lola, there’s a drunk guy trying to steal books.’ Tim rushed up, his face puce with indignation. ‘He’s over in Mysteries, trying to stuff a load of Agatha Christies down his trousers. Quick!’
Euww. Dropping the book in her hand, Lola raced across the shop floor in Tim’s slipstream, dodging customers and cursing shoplifters. Poor Agatha, what a grim thing to happen. She definitely didn’t deserve this.
Chapter 15
‘Where to, mate?’
‘Airport,’ said Gabe.
He sat back in the air-conditioned cab and didn’t glance up at the window of Jaydena’s apartment as the driver pulled away from the curb.
That was it then. So much for happy ever after. Happy ever after, in fact, had disappeared right down the toilet.
How had he, of all people, managed to get it so wrong?
‘It’s not your fault.’ Tears had been streaming down Jaydena’s face last night as she finally came clean. ‘You’re a fantastic guy, really you are.’
I know, thought Gabe.
‘And I’m so sorry, it’s just that it never occurred to me that Paul would change his mind and want me back. But he’s, like, the big love of my life, the one I could never forget. Oh Gabe, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Can you understand that? I don’t want to hurt you, but there’s no other way.’
It was almost a relief, on one level, figuring out at last why Jaydena had been as jumpy as a cat on a hotplate ever since he’d arrived last night.
On the other hand, discovering the truth still hurt like hell.
‘You slept with me.’ Gabe frowned. ‘We had sex. If you and this guy are back together, why would you do that?’
‘Oh God, because I felt so terrible,’ Jaydena wailed. ‘You flew all this way.’
He looked at her. ‘And that was my consolation prize? Thanks a lot.’
‘I already said I’m sorry!’
‘Fine.’ Gabe turned away; the last thing he was going to do was beg. ‘I’m just saying you could have told me before I left London.’
‘I
know, but I couldn’t; I had to wait for Paul to make up his mind and by the time he did, you were already on the plane.’
‘Thoughtful of him.’ In return, Gabe imagined taking Paul along for a day trip to a crocodile farm. Preferably bound and gagged.
‘Look, I know it’s not ideal,’ Jaydena pleaded. ‘But it’s better that we do this now than next week or the week after.’
She’d sobbed some more after that, and apologized some more, and even ended up offering to sleep with Gabe one last time by way of making things up to him. ‘So you have some kind of, like, closure, y’know?’
‘No thanks.’ He marveled at his own idiocy; this was the girl for whom he’d given up his home, his job, his London life. And here she was, offering him a pity shag.
‘Sure? I don’t mind. Paul wouldn’t either,’ said Jaydena. ‘I already asked and he said it’s fine by him.’
What a hero. Gabe envisaged the feeding frenzy when he dropped Paul head first into the pool of crocodiles. ‘That’s very generous of him, but it’s still a no. I’ll use your computer, if that’s OK, and get onto the airline.’
‘Absolutely. Help yourself.’ Nodding vigorously Jaydena said, ‘Feel free.’
He’d managed to book a flight, then checked his emails. There was one from Lola saying, ‘Hey, how’s it going? Why haven’t you been in touch yet? OK, maybe I can guess why—too busy doing other stuff with Jaydena. Text me when you have a few seconds to spare, you big tart. And remember, there’s more to life than sex!’
Gabe paused. If only she knew.
There was no point emailing Lola now; he didn’t have the words. Anyhow, she’d find out soon enough.
It hadn’t been the easiest of nights. Gabe had slept fitfully on the sofa in Jaydena’s living room and been up by six. The sensible part of him felt that after coming all this way he should stay on in Australia, for a while at least, to experience the lifestyle and the weather, see the sights and generally make the trip worthwhile.
The other pissed-off part of him just wanted to get the hell out of the damn place, put some serious distance between himself and Jaydena and head back home.
As the taxi made its way across Sydney towards the airport, he gazed out at the glittering ocean, the paintbox-blue sky and the scantily clad blondes on their way to the beach. Keen though he was to escape the country, it occurred to Gabe that when he reached London he’d barely have any proof that he’d even been here. Reaching over and unzipping the front compartment of his rucksack, he pulled out his digital camera and began taking photographs out of the window.
‘Good holiday, mate?’
It wasn’t the taxi guy’s fault that his life had just taken a nosedive. Snapping a picture of a girl in a raspberry-pink bikini cycling along with a terrier on a lead in tow, Gabe said, ‘Great, thanks.’
‘Ah, it’s a beautiful place, mate. Nowhere else like it. Bin here long?’
‘Not too long. But you’re right, it’s a beautiful country.’
‘The best.’ The driver nodded with pride then pointed to the service station up ahead. ‘OK if I pull in for a couple of minutes or are you in a rush to get there?’
‘No rush at all.’ Gabe’s flight wasn’t leaving for another five hours; he’d just been keen to get out of the flat. ‘Do what you want.’ Everyone else does.
The man drove into the service station, parked up next to the car wash and disappeared inside the shop. Gabe, in the back of the cab, scrolled through the half-dozen or so photos he’d taken and deleted one that was blurred because they’d been driving over a bump at the time. He glanced up as a slender brunette emerged from another parked car and made her way around the corner of the building. For a split second Gabe thought she seemed familiar, before remembering he was in Sydney, Australia. It wasn’t like bumping into someone you knew in the supermarket back home.
Moments later his head jerked up again as another figure, male this time, emerged from a second car and headed in the same direction as the brunette.
Gabe frowned. Wasn’t that…? No, it couldn’t be.
But as the man moved out of sight, curiosity got the better of Gabe. Opening the rear door of the cab, he climbed out. Ninety degrees of heat hit him in the face. Mystified, Gabe reached the side of the whitewashed building and saw… blimey… that he hadn’t been mistaken after all. Except no wonder he hadn’t twigged at first; it wasn’t every day you saw two members of Hollywood’s A-list sneaking off down a narrow alley behind a service station in order to kiss each other senseless.
Unless it was for a movie and they were being paid millions of dollars to do it.
Which certainly wasn’t the case here. This time they were doing it for free.
Click. Gabe hadn’t even planned on taking their photo; somehow, the camera in his hand came up and there they were in the frame, so completely wrapped up in each other that they neither saw him nor heard the shutter close. Gabe took another photo, this time getting a clear shot of the girl’s face. Then, realizing what he was doing—God, what was he, some kind of snooper?—he turned and hurried back to the cab.
‘All right there?’ The taxi driver emerged from the shop with a bottle of iced water and a bag of toffees.
‘Fine.’
‘Off we go, then.’
As they waited to pull out onto the main road, the male half of the couple emerged from the alley. Tom Dutton, Oscar-winning actor, wearing faded denims and a red checked shirt. His long blond hair flopped over his forehead as he loped back to his car. Simply because it would thrill Lola, who had dragged him along to the cinema last summer and noisily sobbed her way through the weepy that had been Tom Dutton’s most recent film, Gabe raised his camera and took one last photo.
Personally he’d thought the film was crap.
Chapter 16
Lola wasn’t averse to a bit of untidiness, but stepping into Gabe’s flat was something of an eye-opener. The initial impression was of utter chaos, Selfridges Christmas department mixed with a charity shop the morning after an all-night party.
‘Hi there, I was wondering if you had any black shoe polish—whoops.’ Lola just managed to avoid stepping on a triangle of pepperoni pizza lying on an open copy of Heat. Something told her she wasn’t going to be in luck. Most of Sally’s clothes appeared to be strewn across the floor, along with a couple of damp bath towels. Just as well Gabe wasn’t here to see this.
‘I do, I do!’ Sally gaily dropped her apple core onto Gabe’s formerly pristine glass-topped coffee table and pressed her fingers, psychic-style, to her temples. ‘Hmm, shoe polishes, shoe polishes. They’re here somewhere… I remember taking them out of a case and putting them… ooh, I know! On the window sill in the kitchen!’
Where else? Following Sally into the kitchen, Lola saw a whole range of shoe polishes flung into a pink and gold flowerpot along with a Nicky Clarke hairspray, a zebra print alarm clock, a bag of satsumas, and a skipping rope.
‘Brilliant. I’ll only be a couple of seconds.’ Holding her favorite black stilettos, Lola squeezed liquid polish onto the toes. Instant magic. The scuffs disappeared and she recapped the tube. ‘Shall I put this out of the way in the cupboard under the sink?’
‘No need. I like things where I can see them.’ Surveying her in her dressing gown, Sally said, ‘Off out somewhere nice?’
‘Wine bar in Soho. Work’s Christmas party.’ Lola pulled a face. ‘Fancy dress.’
‘Ooh, I love fancy dress! What are you going as?’
‘A Playboy Bunny. Don’t laugh,’ said Lola. ‘Everyone had to put an idea into the hat and I drew the short straw. Tim from work has gone over to the fancy dress hire place to pick everything up. He’ll be here any minute with my costume.’
‘At least it’s sexy. I always wanted to be a Playboy Bunny when I grew up. But Mum said over her dead body. Oh well,’ Sally sai
d cheerfully, ‘you’ll have to come and give me a twirl before you leave.’
***
‘Blimey.’ Coming face to face with Tim on her doorstep, lugging an enormous zip-up carrying case, Lola said, ‘That can’t all be for me.’
Her outfit was a skimpy affair, surely. Black satin swimsuit thing, white fluffy tail and a pair of ears. How much space could that take up?
‘Been a bit of a mix-up.’ Tim looked embarrassed.
‘What kind of a mix-up?’
His cheeks flamed. ‘When I ordered a Bunny outfit they thought I meant… well, a bunny bunny.’
‘You mean…? Oh God, let me see.’ Lola unzipped the carrying case and was confronted by a full-size rabbit suit made of white nylon fur. ‘I have to wear this?’
‘Sorry,’ Tim said miserably.
She pulled out the suit and gave herself a static shock. On the bright side, she wouldn’t need to spend the evening holding her stomach in.
On the less bright side, what a waste of polishing her shoes. She was destined to spend the night with her feet encased in giant furry white rabbit’s paws.
‘I’m going to get hot in there.’ The nylon fur crackled and gave Lola another zip of static as she stroked it.
‘You can swap costumes with me if you want to,’ said Tim.
The ‘if you want to’ part didn’t fill her with optimism. ‘Why, what’s yours?’
‘Well, I was going to be a gladiator. Kind of like Russell Crowe. But the breastplate snapped and they couldn’t let me have it.’
‘So you’re not a gladiator. Instead you’re…?’
Tim mumbled, ‘Barney the Dinosaur.’
Lola sighed. ‘Thanks, but I’ll stay with the rabbit. Purple was never my color.’
***
‘You’re all pink!’ Cheryl, looking glamorous and suitably exotic in her hula skirt, danced up to Lola.
All pink. Fancy that.
‘Imagine how hot it feels, being trapped inside an all-in-one bunny suit.’ Lola reached for a bottle of ice-cold water. ‘Then double it. Actually,’ she paused and glugged down several mouthfuls of the water, ‘quadruple it.’
