Three Amazing Things About You

by Jill Mansell

  OK, now she could be bothered. Yeurch, just imagine. ‘Definitely not,’ she said with a shudder.

  The man sitting on the pavement chipped in: ‘She was sticking up for me. He was burning a fifty-pound note in front of me. For fun.’

  ‘And he wiped something on you?’ Zander was staring incredulously at the stains on her sweatshirt. ‘That’s assault, for a start.’

  Honestly, these Travises and their fondness for legal action. Did they all keep their solicitors on speed-dial?

  ‘It’s probably best if we don’t call the police,’ said Flo. ‘Technically, I did throw a can of soup over him first.’

  Zander’s face was a picture. She pointed to the irregular trail of gleaming orange droplets along the pavement. ‘Heinz tomato.’ Only the very best for her victims.

  A glimmer of a smile softened the angular features of Zander Travis’s face. ‘Better than blood, I suppose. Do you know who he is?’

  Flo shook her head. ‘Never seen him before.’ She shivered as a blast of icy wind curled around her too-thin coat. ‘Quite hoping I never see him again.’ A glance in the direction of the taxi rank showed that Giles had disappeared from view – had a cab taken him away, or was he lurking in a darkened side street?

  ‘Are you on your way home?’ Having followed the line of her gaze, Zander was evidently thinking the same thing. ‘Come on, I’ll walk you back to the flat.’

  Chapter 13

  Within minutes, they’d reached Caledonia Place. The fact that it was still only five thirty in the afternoon for some reason made it easier for Flo to say, ‘If you’d like to come in for a coffee . . .?’

  It seemed equally natural for Zander to say, ‘Thanks, that’d be great.’

  And now, several cups of coffee and a packet of biscuits later, it was nine o’clock. Flo shook her head in disbelief. They’d been talking non-stop about pretty much everything, and her and Jeremy’s planned quiet evening à deux had somehow, instead, turned into a jolly ménage à trois.

  Not that kind of ménage, obviously. But the ease with which they’d connected had taken her by surprise. The atmosphere between them was completely comfortable. Zander was on the sofa and Jeremy was stretched out on the rug at his feet, which for Jeremy was high praise indeed.

  She’d learned about Zander and he was learning about her. They’d both lost their parents in their twenties. He’d since found himself in charge of his sister, older than him by two years but less able to look after herself. Lena, she now understood, was a tricky mixture of bossy but needy, helpless but opinionated.

  ‘I used to wish I had a sister.’ Flo pulled a sympathetic face. ‘Maybe being an only child isn’t so bad after all.’

  ‘Luck of the draw.’ Zander broke the last biscuit in half. ‘Did your mum and dad want you to go to university?’

  ‘Yes, they did.’

  ‘Why didn’t you go?’

  ‘I did go.’

  ‘Really?’ He looked surprised. ‘What did you study?’

  ‘French.’

  ‘You have a French degree? But you work as a care assistant in a retirement home?’ Now he sounded downright astonished.

  ‘I was living in Normandy, working for a pharmaceutical company in Rouen, when my mum was taken ill. I gave up my job and came back to look after her. After she died, it wasn’t so easy to land another job in France. I started temping at Nairn House just to tide me over, then discovered I really liked it.’ She tilted her head. ‘Seven years later, I’m still there.’

  ‘But it must pay peanuts.’

  ‘Does your job pay peanuts?’ He worked for an international property lettings company.

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘And do you absolutely totally love your work, every minute of every day?’

  ‘Well, no . . .’

  ‘See?’ said Flo. ‘There you go. I do, which means I win.’

  Zander nodded and accepted defeat. ‘Touché. Maybe you do.’

  At that moment, Jeremy stretched, jumped up on to the sofa and settled himself on their visitor’s lap.

  ‘Well that’s a first,’ Zander commented. ‘I’m honoured.’

  ‘You should be. It’s the equivalent of winning an Oscar.’

  He left at ten fifteen, returning half an hour later with takeaway from the Chinese on Regent Street. Flo felt her heart skip a beat as she pressed the buzzer and let him back into the flat. And he’d brought wine, too. Was it her imagination, or was he actually far nicer than she’d expected?

  Or was he only pretending to be nice? Maybe the plan was to get her drunk, then subtly persuade her to sign guardianship of Jeremy over to him.

  Special fried rice. Szechuan king prawns. Tom Yum squid. Singapore noodles. Beef with cashews in yellow bean sauce. And prawn crackers.

  Flo raised her eyebrows. ‘Sure you got enough?’

  ‘Sorry.’ He shrugged good-naturedly. ‘I didn’t know what you’d want. So I ordered a few things. Take your pick.’

  ‘I love all of it. Can I have some of everything?’

  Zander gave a nod of approval. ‘Help yourself.’

  Together they piled food from the foil containers on to their plates. Carrying everything through to the living room, he said, ‘I went out with a girl last year who only liked chicken. She had it every day. In all the restaurants we ever went to.’

  ‘And she didn’t get bored? I’m too greedy,’ said Flo. ‘I like too many different kinds of food. I’d panic if I had to narrow it down. This squid is amazing, by the way.’

  ‘Good.’ He was smiling as he watched her eat, which hopefully meant he didn’t think she was a complete gannet.

  ‘How long did you go out with her for?’

  ‘Four months? Five?’

  ‘And what went wrong? Was it the chicken thing?’

  ‘More the sister thing. Lena didn’t like her. She didn’t like Lena, either. After a while, it just seemed easier to break up.’

  ‘Can I say something? You shouldn’t let your sister dictate who you see. It’s your business, not hers.’

  ‘I know. But it wasn’t just Lena. It was the chicken thing too.’ He paused. ‘And the fact that she used to call herself practically-a-vegetarian.’

  ‘Ha, we had a resident at the home like that. Went on and on about being a vegan, then every Sunday morning he’d slope off to the local café and have a bacon sandwich.’

  ‘Quite. Anyway, as you can probably tell, no great loss. I wasn’t heartbroken. That was last year.’ He added soy sauce to his Singapore noodles. ‘How about you? Seeing anyone at the moment?’

  Did he think she’d be sitting here sharing a Chinese with him on a Saturday evening if she were? OK, this wasn’t a date, but still.

  ‘No.’ Flo took a gulp of wine – it was delicious, an icy New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc – and shook her head.

  ‘So what happened with you and your last boyfriend?’

  ‘Are we sharing tragic stories?’

  ‘Seems only fair.’ Zander speared a king prawn with his fork, then stopped with it halfway to his mouth. ‘Oh. Is yours really tragic?’

  She grinned. ‘Not tragic. Just one of those boring break-ups for the usual reasons.’

  ‘He cheated on you?’

  ‘Not that reason.’

  ‘Now I’m curious. Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather not?’

  Flo wondered if she should quickly make up some other story, one less likely to send shivers of terror down any man’s spine. She could say they’d grown apart, become bored with each other, the magic had simply faded and died away, blah-de-blah . . .

  Ah, sod it. Why not tell the truth?

  ‘His name was Marcus. He was the same age as me. We were together for two years and everything was great . . . well, I thought it was great.’ One more glug of wine for good luck. ‘Then one night we were out with friends, chatting about various things, and someone asked me if I wanted to have children. So I said yes, eventually, one day. Well, Marcus sto
pped talking and looked at me . . . and that was pretty much it. He announced that he didn’t want kids ever. And I said I did, but not for ages. And one of the other guys said jokingly, “Careful, women in their thirties are like time bombs, those eggs don’t last for ever.” And everyone laughed.’

  Flo paused, remembering the way Marcus had reacted towards her after that.

  ‘Anyway, he decided he couldn’t trust me, said how did he know I wasn’t going to trick him and trap him and deliberately get pregnant? And that was when I realised we were over. There was no way in the world I would ever have done that. But if he thought I was capable of it, we didn’t have much of a relationship.’

  ‘And that was it,’ said Zander.

  ‘It was. After two happy years, we fell out of love with each other in the space of two minutes. The next day, we broke up.’

  ‘Wow.’ Since her wine glass was now empty, Zander offered her a refill.

  ‘Yep. Funny how quickly life can change.’

  ‘And were you devastated?’

  ‘Surprisingly not. Bit shocked at first. But it was like turning off a light switch.’ Flo shrugged. ‘Once it happened, I knew I was never going back.’

  ‘And do you know what he’s doing now?’

  ‘Oh yes, he’s going out with a twenty-three-year-old. The really horrible part of me is dying for her to get accidentally pregnant.’

  Zander laughed. ‘That’s very honest.’

  ‘I’m always honest. Otherwise I wouldn’t have told you the reason we broke up.’

  ‘And that was a year ago?’

  ‘Just over. I was thirty-one then. Now I’m thirty-two.’ Flo pulled a face at him. ‘Imagine how few eggs I have left.’

  ‘Thirty-two isn’t old.’

  ‘It is when men are scared that it’s making you desperate. Funny how I’m still single.’

  He helped himself to the last of the fried rice. ‘You aren’t desperate.’

  ‘I know that. But they don’t.’

  Zander’s phone began to ring and he pulled it out of his shirt pocket. When he saw who was calling, his jaw tightened.

  ‘Who is it?’ Not that it was any of her business, but she was nosy.

  ‘Lena. I’ll let it ring. If it’s urgent, she’ll leave a message.’

  The ringing stopped. Zander put the phone down on the coffee table as gingerly as if it were a small grenade.

  Five seconds later, they both jumped as it began to ring again.

  ‘Better answer it,’ said Flo. Answering phones was a particular weakness of hers.

  ‘Hi, what is it?’ Zander listened to the garbled words on the other end of the line. Finally he said, ‘OK, calm down, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.’ There was another garbled bit, then, ‘I’m having dinner. With a friend.’ Pause. ‘Never mind who. I’m leaving now.’

  He ended the call and looked at Flo. ‘She’s locked out. Forgot to take her key with her. Again.’

  ‘It’s freezing out there. You have to go.’

  ‘She’s always forgetting her key.’ Zander glanced at the remains of the food as he rose to his feet.

  ‘Just as well we’d pretty much finished here.’ There was hardly anything left in the cartons, and only an inch of wine in the bottle.’

  He checked his watch. ‘Unless . . . well, it’s only eleven fifteen. I could go and let her in, then come back . . .?’

  ‘OK, you really want to be careful what you say to a thirty-two-year-old female desperate to have a baby.’ The moment the words were out of her mouth, Flo wished she could cram them back in. Oh God, what had possessed her?

  Except the practically empty bottle on the table was giving her one of those who-are-you-kidding? looks.

  ‘Eurgh, sorry about that,’ said Flo. ‘It was meant to be funny, not scare the life out of you. Just one of those things that accidentally bursts out.’ As if her brain was so full to the brim with lustful thoughts about him that she’d simply been unable to contain herself.

  ‘No problem.’ Zander was pushing his fingers through his hair, looking taken aback and somewhat embarrassed too. ‘So . . . um, should I let my sister into the flat and come back for a coffee, or shall we just leave it?’

  OK, officially awkward. The poor man was undoubtedly terrified of her now.

  ‘Probably better leave it. I mean, it’s gone eleven and I have to be up at six tomorrow . . .’ Which made her sound even more hopelessly geriatric than the residents of Nairn House.

  ‘Right, yes, that makes sense. That’s fine. I’ll be off then.’ Zander reached for his jacket and put it on.

  Downstairs at the front door, he paused and gave Flo a polite kiss on the cheek, which made her face tingle and her heart quicken. And it was still beating at quite a rate, thanks to her earlier faux pas.

  Plus, his eyes were so incredibly blue.

  ‘Thanks. It’s been a nice evening.’ Zander paused. ‘I’ve enjoyed myself.’

  And now she was super-aware of his left hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Her cheeks heating up, Flo nodded and said, ‘It was good fun.’

  She opened the door and let him out, shivering as a blast of icy air enveloped them both. ‘Bye then.’

  Zander raised his hand in farewell. ‘Bye.’

  Flo closed the door, made her way back upstairs and crossed the living room to the window. There he was, walking away up Caledonia Place with a purposeful stride. She touched the side of her face where he’d kissed it, reimagining the sensation of—

  Whoops, and now he’d stopped, turned round and was looking up at her window. Torn between leaping back and ducking down, Flo did both, lost her balance and toppled backwards on to the carpet.

  Like an ungainly upturned beetle.

  From his position on the sofa, Jeremy looked on impassively, too underwhelmed to even bother swishing his tail. Flo grinned at how she must appear to him; at least no one human was here to witness her shame. Spotting a couple of stray grains of rice on the carpet, she rolled into a sitting position, picked them up and levered herself to her feet.

  The doorbell shrilled and she froze. What? What? Heart thumping, she crossed the room, pressed the intercom and said, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Me. I forgot something.’

  What could he have forgotten? She buzzed open the front door and heard Zander’s footsteps on the stairs.

  And then he was standing before her. She gazed up at him, feeling the cold air emanating from his body, simultaneously breathing in the scent of his skin.

  He drew her to him and kissed her on the mouth. Oh, oh wow, this was amazing . . . the cool, firm pressure of his lips and the warmth of his tongue were having a mesmerising effect, his hand was cupping the back of her head and she could feel his own heart beating against her chest . . .

  He pulled away at last, the side of his thumb gently stroking her cheek. ‘I didn’t have the nerve to do that before. It wasn’t until I turned round and saw you watching me from the window that I plucked up the courage to come back.’

  To look at him, who would ever think he could be lacking in self-confidence? People with carved cheekbones and perfect eyebrows should never be shy.

  ‘I’m glad you did.’ Oh my word, just listen to me; what a brazen hussy!

  ‘But now I really do have to go.’ He gave her one more brief kiss. ‘Before my sister dies of frostbite on our doorstep. What’s this?’

  ‘What’s what?’ Flo turned to try and see what he was looking at, but his hand stayed in her hair at the back of her head.

  ‘Don’t move, there’s something in here . . . OK, got it . . .’

  They both looked at what he’d found: two grains of fried rice and a bit of noodle.

  From the carpet. God, nits would have been less embarrassing. At least nits had a reason to be in her hair.

  ‘How did those get in there?’ Zander frowned, genuinely baffled.

  ‘I have no idea. I picked Jeremy up just before you rang the bell. He must have been steali
ng food off my plate and got some on his whiskers.’ Flo gave Jeremy a stern look and said, ‘No more leaving rice in my hair, OK? That’s gross.’

  Jeremy twitched his ears at her. Blaming him was low, but Flo was sure he didn’t mind being her scapecat.

  ‘I’m going now.’ Zander put the offending items in one of the empty containers. ‘Definitely leaving this time.’

  ‘OK.’

  He smiled. ‘Quite a night. Look, I have to fly to Toronto tomorrow on business. I’m going to be there for a couple of weeks. But as soon as I get back, I’ll be in touch.’

  What was it she’d said earlier, about life taking an unexpected turn? Who would ever have predicted something like this happening? Best of all, when he said he’d be in touch, Flo knew he wouldn’t let her down.

  Feeling all pink and glowy, she said, ‘Good.’

  Chapter 14

  Dear Rose,

  Three things about me:

  I adore my husband.

  I can’t stand my mother-in-law.

  I don’t look great in a bikini.

  The truth is, my mother-in-law wishes I was prettier, more like her. She’s super-glamorous and I’m not. Her Christmas present to me was a cosmetic surgery voucher, and she’s already told me that once I’ve had the liposuction, she’ll give me another voucher for a nose job. (You can’t say she’s not generous!)

  I’m happy with the way I look but fed up with the constant digs. Every year my in-laws pay for us to fly out to Barbados and join them at their holiday villa. I’m quite sporty and enjoy being active, but we’re expected to spend all our time with them just lying by the pool. By day we sunbathe, by night we eat and drink . . . and that’s it. I wish we didn’t have to go, but my husband says we’ll hurt their feelings if we refuse, and he doesn’t want to do that. Nor can we afford any kind of holiday ourselves.

  Please help. I just don’t know what to do.

  Love, Laura

  Dear Laura,

  Oh dear, I kind of feel sorry for all of you. It can’t be much fun for your mother-in-law, having to put up with a guest who is clearly bored out of her mind. Maybe she’s just being polite, inviting you to join them on their holiday, and would be secretly relieved if you said you couldn’t go.