All Because of You

by Melissa Hill

  “All right then,” Natalie replied gamely. “I promise I’ll do just that.” She paused for a second. “Thing is, he really could be the –”

  “Natalie.”

  “OK, OK, I’ll try and control myself.”

  “And, speaking of control,” Tara said, a smile in her voice, “I don’t want you sleeping with him on the first date either.”

  In preparation for what lay ahead, Tara had earlier got some indication of how Natalie usually behaved on a first date so she knew this piece of advice would not go down well.

  “What?” Natalie’s reaction was as she’d anticipated. “But, Tara, you should see him – he’s so sexy!”

  “Maybe, but if you do that you’re clouding the issue.”

  “But why not? It’s going to happen anyway, so why delay the inevitable?”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of playing hard to get?”

  Natalie was petulant. “I tried that once, and the guy told me I was a prick-tease and never called me again.”

  “Well, did you ever stop to think that he might just not have been the right guy for you?” Tara felt the need to speak frankly. Unlike most of her clients, she already knew enough about Natalie to know that she didn’t respond to subtlety. “Natalie, I hate to say it but don’t you think that by sleeping with these guys too easily you’re killing off the chase? Taking away all the mystery?”

  “Mystery? What mystery? If a guy asks me out on a date in the first place he obviously fancies me – if I go, I fancy him too. Where’s the mystery?”

  “But what about romance, seduction, delayed gratification?”

  “That’s just a female thing – men don’t like that.”

  “And who told you that?”

  “Another ex-boyfriend. He reckons that women’s magazines have fried our brains. Men don’t care about the mental stuff: they’re led by their anatomy.”

  “Well, if that was the case, how do people stay married, stay with the one woman for the rest of their lives? There has to be more to it, doesn’t there?”

  “Look, Tara, maybe things are different where you come from, but here, women are more sexually liberated. We don’t beat around the bush, as it were.”

  Tara’s eyes widened, then she smiled despite herself. “Natalie, I really don’t think this has anything to do with where you come from. The fact is that by going straight to sex you’re killing off the prospect of romance. What about fun? Look, if this is going to work, you really will have to try and change your approach. The first piece of advice I’m going to give you – and please try to stick to it – is: you are not to sleep with Jay on Saturday night.”

  “But he’ll think I’m a prude or a prick-tease or –”

  “Get those stupid expressions out of your head. The guys who told you that have nothing to do with anything. You need to change your approach, that’s what you told me, isn’t it?” Tara had long since dispelled with the usual life-coaching principles. Rather than the softly softly approach, some serious straight-talking was in order when it came to Natalie.

  “Yes.”

  “Right then,” Tara said determinedly. “We’re changing your approach. Now, where’s he taking you on Friday?”

  “Some posh French place in Covent Garden.”

  “Nice.”

  “Not really – I’m not really into truffles and foie gras and all that. We do so much of that kind of entertaining during work that it gets rather boring after a while. To be honest, I’d much rather a nice Tex-Mex or something.”

  “Well, did he ask if the restaurant was OK with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you tell him you’d rather not go for fine dining?”

  “No – if he wants to do that, it’s fine by me.”

  “OK, we’ll let it pass for a first date, but remember what I said before about you not being yourself. You must stop that, OK?”

  “OK.”

  “So, when Jay arranges something for your next date – if there is one and, by God, I’m determined there will be – and you don’t like where you’re going, you’ll have to speak up.”

  It amazed Tara how full of contradictions Natalie was. She’d happily swap bodily fluids with the man, yet was afraid to be upfront in the simplest of ways. Unconvinced that Natalie truly understood the message she was trying to put across, Tara decided to put it across in another way.

  “May I be blunt?” she asked her.

  “Please do.”

  “Well, don’t you think that if a guy wanted a wishywashy, do-anything-to-please him girlfriend that he’d be much better off just buying himself a blow-up doll?”

  When there was no reply from Natalie for some time, Tara briefly wondered if she’d gone too far. Then, on the other end of the line there came a burst of laughter.

  “Bloody hell!” Natalie chuckled. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

  Chapter 19

  One evening, about a week after their return from Belfast, Eric announced yet again over dinner that he was going out for a while.

  “Where to?” Liz asked, her heart dropping like a stone.

  “I’m just popping down to Mum’s,” he replied, as he got up from the kitchen table. “I haven’t seen her in a few days.”

  “But it’s your first night off in weeks,” she said, disappointment coursing through her. Couldn’t he go at least a few days without seeing her, whoever she might be?

  You know damn well it’s Emma Harrington and the sooner you admit that the better, Liz admonished herself, her heart twisting as unbidden images of Emma and her husband together filled her brain.

  But she couldn’t do that, not just yet, she thought, trying to get a grip on things. Because as soon as Liz admitted to herself that Eric really was having an affair, then her life as she knew it was over. She couldn’t carry on like this –they couldn’t carry on like this, pretending that everything was OK on the outside, when inwardly they were both falling apart. Well, Liz was anyway. Maybe Eric was finding this all very straightforward and she was the one feeling the strain.

  “I know, but I promised Mum I’d call and see her this week,” Eric told her. “She’s probably still feeling a bit down after the funeral.”

  “OK then, why don’t we all go?” Liz suggested, trying to keep her voice casual. “We’ll leave the washing-up till later. I’m sure she’d like to see Toby too.”

  At this, she could clearly see his facial muscles twitch. “Well, yeah, good idea, but won’t one of us have to stay behind and look after the dogs?”

  “Oh right, I’d almost forgotten.” Liz had forgotten all about the dogs and the fact that one of them was being collected tonight. “I suppose I’d better stay.”

  “You don’t mind me taking Toby, then?” Eric seemed thoughtful. “You’re right, I’m sure Mum would like to see him.”

  Liz sat back, her mind racing. He wouldn’t dream of involving their son in one of his trysts, would he? No, she was being over-sensitive now. If Eric was taking Toby with him, then he evidently was planning to visit his mother and her mind was simply running away with her. There was no question but that he wouldn’t stoop so low as to bring his son, their son, to a meeting with Emma. Because if there was, then Eric really was no longer the man she’d fallen in love with and a million miles away from the man she’d married.

  When Eric had settled Toby in his pushchair, and the two were ready to leave, Liz bent down and lightly kissed the top of Toby’s head.

  “OK, then,” she told the two people she loved most in the world. “Have fun.”

  “He looks like you,” Emma said, laughing gaily.

  “Do you think so? Everyone else says he looks like Liz.”

  “Naw, he’s too good-looking,” she joked.

  “That’s not very nice.”

  “Oh, you know I’m only joking, Eric. Don’t take it all so seriously.” She sat back down on the park bench, the two having once again convened at their preferred meeting place, the park behind th
e castle.

  Eric shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn’t liked the idea of taking Toby with him, but Liz was right, it had been a while since his mother had seen her grandson and it would have looked odd if he hadn’t wanted to bring him. So, in order to avoid suspicion about his whereabouts, he had indeed gone to visit his mother. But only briefly.

  And he’d got even more of a fright when, within about five minutes of their arrival at the park, they’d spotted someone walking along the pathway towards the river.

  “Shit, who the hell is that?” Eric asked, his face paling at the thought of someone seeing them together – and with Toby here too!

  Emma too looked concerned, but as the person drew closer, they realised it was no one they knew. Eventually, having bid them a friendly hello as he passed, the man, who was carrying a fishing rod, continued further down the river.

  “Relax – it’s nobody from around here – probably just some tourist doing a spot of fishing.”

  Thank God, Eric thought silently. Now he turned to Emma, who this evening was looking very pretty, dressed in a pair of tailored trousers and a pattered top, her bump now becoming visible beneath it.

  “So how are you feeling?” he asked.

  She made a face. “Like death. Although at least the morning sickness seems to have calmed down a bit. But I’ve put on lots of weight and it’s driving me mad. My face looks like somebody stuffed cotton wool in my cheeks and my breasts are getting bigger by the day! Although maybe that’s not such a bad thing, eh?” she added jokingly.

  Despite himself, Eric reddened. “It’s good that you’re over the morning sickness anyway,” he said, gulping slightly. “But how do you feel about, you know, everything else?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Tara and my mum are still driving me mad – trying to find out who the father is and why I’m hiding it. But they can keep trying.” She looked at him. “How’s everything with you?”

  Eric sighed. “Things are getting worse. You know Liz and I were away last weekend?”

  “Sure, how did it go?” Emma tried to sound offhand.

  “The usual. She spent the entire time talking about Toby and the house and the dogs – it’s all she cares about now. It’s as though I no longer have a part to play in her little world.” He sat forward. “At one stage, I was almost tempted to come right out and tell her.”

  “You can’t,” Emma warned. “Not yet – not until it’s all sorted.”

  “I know, but I feel so guilty keeping secrets from her. After all, this affects her future too.”

  Emma put a hand on his arm. “Promise me you’ll give it just a little more time before you tell her. Now is not the right time. And if she finds out that I’m involved, all hell will break loose. She’ll want to throttle me!”

  “Liz wouldn’t dream of doing something like that.” Despite his guilt or perhaps because of it, Eric felt obliged to defend his wife.

  “Right,” Emma snorted, “I’m sure she’s a very understanding person.”

  “She is actually.”

  “OK then, how understanding would she be if she found out that you’ve brought your son to one of our meetings?”

  He bowed his head. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t bring him here on purpose, and we went to see Mum first.”

  “Liz might not see it that way.”

  “I know.

  Emma reached across and kissed him on the cheek. “Look, try not to worry about it too much for the moment. We’ll think of something. In the meantime, we’ll both keep our mouths shut – about everything, OK?”

  “OK.”

  “It’ll all work out for the best, I promise you.”

  “Will it?” Eric asked, thinking that things certainly couldn’t get much worse than they’d been recently.

  Chapter 20

  Natalie’s first date went spectacularly well. That Friday night, she took Tara’s advice and admitted from the outset to Jay that the restaurant was wonderful, but truthfully she’d prefer something a little less formal.

  “I get so much of this kind of thing with work,” she told him, her tone apologetic, but not too much. No simpering, Tara had warned her.

  Jay laid down his leather-bound menu. “You know, you’re right. I’m the very same. We entertain clients in places like this all the time, and while the food is great, it’s nice to be able to go somewhere where you get by with using just one bloody fork instead of four.”

  “Or maybe even eat with your fingers,” Natalie added.

  Jay picked up the wine menu and gave it a cursory glance. “Or have a cold beer instead of a fifty-pound bottle of wine.”

  “Mmm, now you’re talkin’,” she said, before cocking her head towards the corner of the dining room. “Or listen to rock music, instead of frightful screaming accordions.”

  Jay laughed and followed her gaze to where the restaurant’s resident musician was happily providing what had to be described as very much foreground music. While it stamped an air of French authenticity on the place, it was invasive and largely not conducive to cosy chat. Although the restaurant was expensive and upmarket, it was also very much in demand, and private tables were at a premium here, so much so that Natalie and Jay were practically bumping elbows with the party seated at the table next to them. That particular evening, the place was full of self-important business types, all of whom were too busy trying their best to look sophisticated to enjoy themselves.

  “I’m sorry,” Jay said, evidently reading her thoughts. “I’ve made a mess of this already, haven’t I? Here was I thinking you’d be impressed by all this grandeur when all the time you’re hankering for TGI Friday’s.”

  Natalie grinned. “Well, perhaps not quite there, but somewhere a little more fun, maybe?” Then she realised something. With all her talk about purple carpets and purple cocktails and now TGIF’s Jay would think she was a right chav!

  When she said this to him, he laughed out loud.

  “No, I just think you’re someone who knows how to have fun,” he replied cheerily.

  “I suppose that’s what it’s all about, though, isn’t it?” she said, echoing Tara’s earlier words. “Having fun.”

  And to Natalie’s surprise, she believed them. For once, she wasn’t concentrating on whether or not she looked good in the dress, or if her make-up had run, or when she’d get to meet Jay’s mother – instead she was concentrating on just enjoying being with him. And she admitted to herself, she didn’t have to try too hard to do that.

  Also, knowing that the decision of whether or not to sleep with him had already been made – “Most certainly not!” Tara had ordered – there was a certain freedom in just kicking back and relaxing.

  All throughout dinner, she and Jay entertained themselves by trying to apply silly chain-restaurant names to the fine-food dishes they’d ordered (Jay’s truffles were ‘Viagra Mushrooms’ and Natalie’s rare-cooked duck was ‘Quacking Daffy’). They’d laughed so much that at one stage the resident musician had come over to their table in an attempt to drown out the noise.

  “This is terrible,” Jay joked. “We really should be giving these lovely truffles the respect they deserve.”

  Natalie looked down at her meal. If she was going to be honest, she might as well be honest about everything.

  “Do you know something? I really don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

  Jay raised an eyebrow. “About truffles?”

  “Yes. At eight hundred quid a pound, I suppose there has to be something to it, and I know the way they can only be found by a certain breed of animal is believed to be very romantic and so on. But tell me, how on earth is the idea of pigs snuffling round dirty ground looking for wild bloody mushrooms romantic?”

  Jay’s lips were pursed, so she wasn’t sure how he’d react to this. She knew how Freya would react – her friend would think that Natalie had taken leave of her senses. “But truffles are simply fabulous, darling!” she’d purr, irrespective of whether or not she really enjo
yed them. No, the fact that truffles were considered a delicacy and so expensive only a certain type of person could afford them – Freya’s type – would be enough for her. Personally Natalie had never understood what all the frenzy was about and, by admitting this to Jay, she was, without knowing it – and possibly for the first time in her dating life – using a subconscious test on him.

  Jay looked at her. “Is it a case of Emperor’s New Clothes, do you think?”

  “Would it be so awful if I told you that’s exactly what I think?” she replied, setting down her knife and fork.

  Then, to her surprise, Jay nodded vigorously. “Well, I do enjoy the taste, but I know what you mean about the hysteria. Everyone else raves so much about the bloody things, you’d wonder if they had magical properties.”

  “Phew! So I’m not the only one then!”

  “I doubt it very much,” Jay told her, smiling. “You know as well as I do how the glitterati fall over themselves to appear exclusive, when all they’re doing is following the horde.” Then he smiled wickedly. “So if we’re going to take the piss out of expensive delicacies, what are your thoughts on caviar? Horrible bloody stuff, isn’t it?”

  By the end of the evening, Natalie’s sides ached from laughing, and for once she didn’t worry about whether or not she’d impressed him enough to want to see her again. In fact, it was no longer an issue – during dinner Jay had already promised to take her to the Hard Rock Café the following weekend.

  “Then we can do the reverse – their curly fries will be ‘delicately sautéed potatoes’ and their burgers ‘ground-up fillet de boeuf with tomato jus’,” he joked, as they went out to the street afterwards, Jay casually linking her arm in his as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “I’ll have to have a proper think about what to call buffalo wings then,” she replied, enjoying the unforced intimacy. He wanted to see her again and they’d had a great night tonight!