by Lynda Renham
That she is insane? Oh yes, indeed. I nod, but I have no idea what we’re talking about.
‘I thought he’d be at the party tonight, he had tickets…’ he continues.
I stand up.
‘I expect he’s preparing for his wedding. I should look for my cab.’
‘What wedding?’
For goodness sake.
‘His wedding to Penelope, of course.’
‘He’s not marrying her.’
‘What?’
‘Didn’t you know?’
‘Know what?’
‘He called it off. She just couldn’t accept it.’
Oh my God.
‘What’s the time?’ I scream.
And then it all comes rushing back to me. Madam Zigana’s cryptic warning. What was it she had said?
‘A few minutes can change the path of your destiny. A few minutes can make all the difference. ’
Please don’t tell me I have left it too late. Of course, the dashing man, whose initial begins with B, is Alex Bryant. Why did it take me so long to realise?
‘Quarter to twelve, why don’t you come back for the celebrations.’
‘I’ve got to go,’ I say sounding like Cinderella and just to prove it I lose my shoe in the run back to the Glass Dome.
‘Look to the clock dearie. Don’t forget that. A few minutes can change the path of your destiny. A few minutes can make all the difference.’
Alex, please, please be there.
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘There isn’t going to be any wedding,’ says Alex, firmly.
Penelope gasps and clasps her mother’s hand.
‘Alex,’ she exclaims.
‘Penny, we discussed all this weeks ago. I don’t understand what you’re doing.’
Alex looks at Penelope’s parents sympathetically. He realises that the poor buggers have no idea what is going on.
‘I don’t understand,’ says her father, deliberating whether he should hand Alex a drink or not.
‘It’s simple. There should not have been a wedding announcement. Penny and I discussed the future some weeks ago. Since moving in together it has just not been working for us and…’
‘Not working for you,’ says Penny softly. ‘I was happy.’
‘I told you I wasn’t ready to take the big step towards marriage and you said you understood. The next thing I know there is a wedding announcement in The Times.’
‘We didn’t know, otherwise we wouldn’t have… Oh dear, Penelope, you should have told us,’ says her mother falling into a chair.
Penelope glares angrily at Alex.
‘I flew all the way to Cambodia to be with you and this is how you treat me.’
‘I never asked you to go to Cambodia.’
‘Do you know how much the flights cost me?’
Alex sighs heavily. Thank God he saw this side of her before they did marry.
‘Well, if you flew Business Class, a hell of a lot I would imagine.’
She squints at him and if he didn’t know better he could be convinced she was casting a spell.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll reimburse you,’ he snaps.
‘I suppose we will have to ask for a retraction on the announcement,’ says her mother thoughtfully.
‘Tell them the truth, that he broke it off at the last minute,’ says Penelope in a pained voice.
‘That’s not strictly the truth but frankly I don’t care what you say.’
‘This is a great start to the New Year, that’s all I can say Major Alex Bryant,’ says her father sarcastically.
Penny, realising she has her father on side, runs into his arms in tears. Alex turns to the small bar in the corner and pours himself a whisky, after all no one is going to offer him one.
‘Nobody calls me major, Stephen, and you know it,’ he says taking a long pull of the whisky.
‘I’ve told all our friends,’ sighs Penelope’s mother.
Alex throws back the last of the whisky. He really can’t stand any more of this. He had been honest with Penelope. It’s not like he had strung her along.
‘Tell people what you like. Tell them I’m the biggest bastard that ever lived if you like but just get this mess cleared up.’
He throws his jacket on and wraps his scarf loosely around his neck before walking to the door.
‘So I’m a mess now am I?’ cries Penelope.
He turns, exasperation written across his face.
‘Grow up Penny. It wouldn’t have worked. We stifled each other. You don’t love me, you love what I stand for and that’s not a basis for marriage.’
‘Oh, I hate you,’ she sobs.
‘There are plenty more fish in the sea and better ones,’ says her father pointing to the door.
Alex nods.
‘Happy New Year to you,’ he says on leaving. He means exactly what he says but knows they will see it as sarcasm and cannot be bothered to correct the misunderstanding. There have been far too many misunderstandings in the past few weeks that he is past caring. He checks his watch and climbs into the waiting taxi. Thank God, he had asked him to wait. At this time of the evening it is nearly impossible to get a cab.
‘Where to mate?’
‘The Glass Dome. Can you put your foot down? I need to be there for 11.45.’
‘I’ll do me best mate but we’re cutting it a bit fine and this snow isn’t helping. Meeting someone are you?’
He would like to hope so but he doesn’t imagine that she will be there, but it’s worth a try.
Alex
I swear there are more people outside the building than there are inside.
‘Thanks,’ I say, paying the driver and giving him the expected New Year tip.
‘Happy New Year mate.’
I push my way through the crowd outside that are happily smoking and shivering. I almost fall over a man who is crouched down helping a woman retrieve the contents of her handbag. I consider stopping to help but know that I don’t really have the time. I hand over my ticket as the heat hits me. I whip off my scarf before bounding up the stairs. I look around for Libby but there is no sign of her. My heart sinks. I reach the clock and exhale. I had been holding my breath. She isn’t here. What a fool. What was I thinking? She is obviously with that idiot Toby. I check my watch. There are still five minutes. The raucous shouting and laughing from the hall reaches my ears and the temptation to go in for a drink is overwhelming. I’ve never been so nervous in my life. Surely if she was coming she would have been here by now. Looking at the clock I see it is almost 11.45. I throw the scarf down in irritation. What does she see in him? I look hopefully to the stairs but all I see are drunken couples waiting excitedly for the clock to strike and welcome in another year. A lone balloon floats towards me and I kick it absentmindedly. My stomach grumbles and I realise I have not eaten since lunch time and the smell of food is tempting me. Libby where are you? Buttoning up my jacket I begin the slow descent to the foyer and the exit doors where an overexcited crowd have gathered in the snow. Some are even throwing tiny snowballs. There are no cabs and I begin walking in the vain hope that I may find an empty café where I can get some food and drown my sorrows. Tomorrow I shall tell Jamie that I’m flying back to the States and ask if he could release me from our contract. That will be another business no doubt. Better that than loose ends.
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘Bollocks and shit.’
The ice cuts into my bare foot and I want to cry. I hesitate for just a second and look back at my shoe. I debate returning for it but know that I don’t have the time. Christ, it would have to be sodding snowing wouldn’t it? My perfectly coiffured bun is very much a messy bun now. Tendrils of loose straggly hair hang down my face and my feet are blue, one is a kind of mauve blue colour, in fact. Christ, I feel certain I have got frostbite, which will no doubt turn to gangrene or something worse. That will teach me to run barefoot in the snow. I give the shoe one last lingering look and seriously consider returning
for it when Madam Zigana’s words reverberate in my head, A few minutes can change your destiny. I continue running. I skid into two men wearing dinner suits and they steady me.
‘You’ve dropped your shoe, love.’
I attempt a smile and continue running.
‘I can’t stop,’ I call back. ‘The man I love is waiting at the clock for me. I have to get there on time.’
They laugh.
‘Good luck, darling.’
‘He’s a lucky bugger.’
‘Thank you.’
Another man who is walking towards me sidesteps into the road and beckons me onward.
‘Happy New Year and good luck,’ he says saluting me.
‘Thank you,’ I call back over my shoulder.
My heart sinks at the sight of an overflowing crowd. New Year revellers are spilling out of a nearby pub, congesting the pathway ahead of me. Oh no, this is all I need.
‘Excuse me, excuse me,’ I shout trying to weave in and out of them.
‘What’s the rush, pretty lady,’ asks a very tipsy man in a white shirt and bow tie. ‘Let’s buy you a New Year drink.’
‘The man I love is waiting for me under the clock at the Dome, if I don’t get there on time my whole destiny will be changed.’
‘Blimey O’Riley, come on chaps let the lady through. Her destiny depends on it.’
The crowd parts and I cross through in manner of Moses at the Red Sea.
‘Thank you,’ I shout again, thinking how nice people are.
I don’t have time to check my Blackberry. Any hopes I had of bursting into the Dome and skidding to a halt at the clock, in the manner of Cheryl Cole, have all been dashed. It’s all I can do to hang onto my shawl. The snow is beginning to fall heavily now and I have to keep blinking it from my lashes. I attempt to hail down three passing cabs but they just drive by. At least running is keeping me warm. The Dome seems so far away. I was sure I hadn’t walked for that long. Please let him be there, please, please, God. I’ll be a bit pissed if he isn’t, especially if they have to chop off my gangrene foot. It would make a lovely romantic story for the papers though wouldn’t it? Book agent and budding journalist loses foot in race to meet fiancé. Frozen conditions cause gangrene for devoted Libby. Oh yes, fiancé. I think I must be a bit delirious thinking things like this. It’s what comes of exposing oneself to bracing arctic conditions.
I arrive at the entrance and skid to a halt as my one shoe slips on the wet slush. I feel my leg go beneath me and then I am flying through the air like an ungainly duck, landing with a thud onto my backside. I now have a purple foot and no doubt a purple arse to match. Wonderful.
‘Are you okay?’
I look up to see a young man offering his hand and smiling at me. I take the hand and feel my foot throb as I put pressure onto it.
‘You’ve lost your shoe.’
I’ve lost just about everything including the feeling in my backside.
‘I have to get to the clock,’ I say, my throat dry from running.
‘You’ve got time, just under ten minutes now.’
Oh no. I push rudely past him and hobble up the stairs, pass the smug loving couples and attempt to tidy my hair as I go.
I reach the top and pant heavily. He isn’t there. He isn’t coming for me after all. I slide down the wall and sit staring at the clock which says 11.55. I slowly stand up and hobble to the base where I fall down and study my blue foot. I grab a cashmere scarf that sits on the base and hope the owner doesn’t mind but my foot is in dire need of warmth. Before I can stop myself the tears start running down my cheeks. I sit alone with the minutes ticking by and heading slowly towards the New Year and all I want to do is flee but my aching bum and swollen foot won’t let me move. Soon the clock will strike and I will enter a New Year alone. It isn’t fair. The atmosphere in the hall is electric. Someone hands me a party popper and I wonder if I swallow it, will it blow me up. There are only so many ways you can kill yourself on New Year’s Eve and using a party popper isn’t one of them. The crowd is getting excited and I lift my eyes to watch the celebrations.
Alex is standing at the top of the staircase. For a split second I think it must be a mirage and that I am seriously delirious. He speaks and all I can think is how terrible I must look. My hair is an absolute mess and my face must be blotchy from crying, not to mention the state of my feet. If he ever did fancy me, he certainly won’t any more, not now he’s seen me like this.
‘You’re wearing the earrings,’ he says softly.
‘Yes.’
‘I left my scarf,’ he says looking at my foot.
The scarf is his.
‘I lost my shoe,’ I say stupidly.
The DJ is yelling a countdown and I look up at the clock. One minute to twelve. He doesn’t move but continues looking at me.
‘Where’s your boyfriend?’ he asks while slowly moving towards me. My heart starts thumping.
‘He isn’t my boyfriend. Where’s your fiancée?’
‘She isn’t my fiancée.’
Everyone begins to shout the countdown with the DJ five, four, three, two, one and the clock chimes midnight. There is a loud chorus of Happy New Year and an explosion of party poppers. I pop my solitary one and smile at Alex.
‘Happy New year,’ I say attempting to stand up. His strong arms pull me up and hold me away from him.
‘I wonder if you would like to go into the New Year as my girlfriend,’ he asks gently placing the shawl around my shoulders.
Am I hearing this? Alex Bryant isn’t marrying Penelope at all and he wants me to be his girlfriend.
‘Even while a little bit chubby?’ I ask.
‘Even while a little bit chubby, yes,’ he smiles.
‘I will diet.’
‘Why don’t you start the diet tomorrow,’ he laughs.
I fling my arms around his neck.
‘Happy New Year,’ he whispers before his hot lips crush mine.
Just wait till I tell mother that daddy doesn’t have to get a CBE, or a BCG for that matter, after all. She’ll be so pleased.
***
Also by Lynda Renham:
Croissants and Jam
Annabel Lewis (Bels) has two days to get to her wedding in Rome but her journey is beset with one disaster after another as fate takes its turn. Will the stranger she meets on the way get her to her wedding on time or will he change her life forever? Come with Bels on her humorous romantic journey to see if she marries Mr Right or if destiny takes her in different direction.
