The Hopeless Romantic's Handbook
Page 24
Tom nodded and made some notes. “Okay, well the results are looking good so far, so I’m going to let you go now, but I’d like to see you again in a couple of weeks. Sound okay?”
The woman nodded.
“And how’s that degree of yours coming along?”
She grinned. “I got a first in my essay last week. And I’ve completely caught up with my coursework, so looks like I’ll be graduating next year after all.”
“Fantastic,” Tom said. “Good for you.”
“Thanks,” she said as she got up to go. “I mean … Well, really. Thank you.”
“Thank me by staying well,” Tom said.
She left, and Tom stared after her. He’d never noticed before, but he was surrounded by some of the most amazing people. Nurses and doctors who worked tirelessly to cure people, to help them feel better; patients who battled courageously even when they faced an uphill battle; families who supported them, quietly, diligently, never revealing their own fears or pain. The world was an amazing place. It wasn’t gray and bleak; it was bright Technicolor. And until today he’d never seen it.
He shook his head in wonder and looked at his schedule. There was a consultation scheduled in for first thing the following morning with Betty Conway, who was having a mastectomy. But until then, nothing.
He would go and see her, he decided. Check that everything was okay. And then he would go for a walk. Maybe catch a film. Do some shopping. Let the spring sun shine on his face and feel grateful to be alive. To be given a second chance.
Tom strode down the corridor, into the lift, and out onto the third floor, then made his way to her ward, where he found Lucy taking Betty’s blood pressure and showing off her ring.
“Ah, Betty,” he said jovially, as he pulled back the curtains surrounding her bed. “Looking lovely as ever.”
Lucy arched an eyebrow at him.
“Hello, Doctor. I’ve just been hearing Lucy’s exciting news!” Betty said, her eyes twinkling. “So when are you going to get yourself a wife, then? Nice-looking doctor like you—must have the pick of the crop.”
Tom smiled and picked up her charts. “So, Betty,” he said. “I just wanted to go over a couple of things before your surgery tomorrow. You’ll be under for no more than an hour, but you’ll probably sleep for a lot longer. The nurses won’t give you any supper tonight, but you can sip water if you need to. Nothing tomorrow morning, though, not even a drink. Now, any questions?”
Betty smiled. “I’m going to be on the telly,” she said happily. “This afternoon. They’re going to film me right here.”
Tom gave Lucy a quizzical look.
“The hospice show,” Lucy said with a shrug. “Your friend. Thought you’d have known about it. Apparently the press office set it up …”
“And they’re going to be here this afternoon?” Tom asked.
“That’s right,” Lucy said.
“They’re at the hospice this morning,” Betty said authoritatively. “Then they’re coming here at four thirty, although Kate says that filming always takes longer than you think, so I shouldn’t be worried if they’re not here until five. And they’re going to ask me about the hospice. I’m going to be one of the stars of the show, you know. One of the ‘life stories.’ “
“Kate said that, did she?” Tom asked with a little smile.
Betty nodded and smiled back. “And that Gareth, he said I’ve got a great face for television. Fancy that, at my age. He said it could be my new vocation!”
Tom grinned. “Well, I see you’ve got this all figured out.”
“You’ve got to have a plan, don’t you, Doctor,” Betty said. “Got to have something to dream of, something to aim at. Otherwise what’s the point?”
Tom nodded thoughtfully. “And you don’t ever get worried? You don’t ever get scared of failure?”
Betty snorted in derision. “Scared? Young man, the only thing to fear in this world is fear itself. It’s paralyzing. Makes you weak and pathetic. No, Doctor, I don’t get scared. And if I do, I tell myself to stop being so silly. Isn’t that right, Lucy?”
Lucy grinned. “If I was scared of failure I wouldn’t be here. Took me three goes to get through my exams.”
“There you are!” Betty said triumphantly. “Now, doctor, when was it you said I had to stop eating?”
She frowned. “Doctor?”
But Tom wasn’t listening. Instead, he smiled at them vaguely.
“Weak and pathetic, you say,” he mused as Lucy and Betty exchanged looks. “Right. Right, well, there isn’t much time then, is there?”
He turned and walked out of the ward, leaving Lucy and Betty staring curiously after him.
“Doctors,” Lucy said, a few moments later. “Meant to be clever, but they don’t half act weird sometimes.”
Joe looked up from his vantage point on the sofa to see Penny silhouetted in the doorway. “Okay,” she said curtly, “Hot Gossip didn’t bite, but the Tittle Tattle people are going to be here at five to talk to us about our wedding plans.” Smoke was curling out of her mouth as she spoke, and her angular bob was as immovable as always. “And they’re bringing a photographer, so you might want to get changed.”
Joe stared at her insolently. “We’ve barely discussed this,” he said, “and you’ve already arranged for photographers?”
Penny sighed. “Don’t be so dramatic, Joe,” she said. “You want publicity, don’t you? You want to be a someone.”
Joe bit his lip. He didn’t want publicity with her. Couldn’t bear to spend another minute with that woman even if it meant fame and glory. Some prices just weren’t worth paying.
“I’m going out,” he said, standing up.
Penny frowned. “Where?” she demanded. “The journalist will be here in an hour.”
Joe shrugged. “Just out,” he said, pushing past her.
As soon as he was out of her flat and walking toward the Kings Road, he called Bob, his agent.
“Hey. Me. Listen, you know you said if I hooked up with a supermodel or famous actress that would be the nudge I needed? That I could ditch Penny and this whole crazy charade?”
“Yes …” Bob said warily.
“So how about if I get back together with Kate? If I realized the error of my ways and finally got out of the clutches of Penny Pen-nington, who seduced me and lied to me about her age? You think that would do it?”
“You think she’ll take you back?”
“Hey when I want to charm someone, I know what to do.”
“Well, if you can pull that off, Joe, you’ll be the hottest property in town.”
“That’s what I was hoping to hear,” Joe said. “Thanks, Bob.”
31
Ten Ways of Knowing That You’re a Hopeless Romantic
You believe in happy endings, and refuse to let others’ cynicism or difficult manner deter you.
Laughter and tears come easily to you, such is your level of sympathy for, and empathy with, others.
When the skies are gray and full of rain, you see the romance of being caught in a downpour; when skies are blue and the sun is shining you are excited by the prospect of a day spent walking in the park. Everything is an opportunity to you; everything brings hope and anticipation.
You are not impressed by grand gestures or expensive gifts that are presented as substitutions for thoughtfulness. A single flower that is presented honestly and with love is worth a thousand bouquets of the sweetest smelling roses proffered by a fickle admirer.
If something is very important to you, you don’t give up. Ever. You chase your dream, refuse (politely, of course) to take no for an answer, and do everything within your power to make your dream come true…
Tom put the book down and looked at Sal helplessly. “You have to help me,” he begged. “I need a plan. Something dramatic.”
Sal frowned and picked up the book. “Kate actually bought this book?” she asked, thumbing through The Hopeless Romantic’s Handbook. “Anyway, look, it says h
ere that grand gestures and big bouquets of flowers are a substitute for thoughtfulness.”
Tom looked worried. “Really? Jesus, why is this so hard?”
Sal shrugged. “I don’t think that big bouquets are bad per se. I got the most beautiful bunch of flowers from Ed yesterday and I was chuffed to bits. Look …”
She pointed to a vase filled with flowers on the counter and Tom smiled tightly.
“Lovely,” he said. “But can we please focus on the task at hand? Kate is going to be at the hospital in an hour and I need to surprise her.”
“You and Kate,” Sal said, shaking her head. “God, it’s just so nice. To think of you both …” She wiped a tear away from her eye. “Sorry, don’t mind me. Can’t stop crying at the moment. You know, you could always turn up on a white steed. That would be grand and thoughtful. I mean, isn’t she always saying she wants a knight in shining armor?”
Tom raised an eyebrow. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had actually had this little fantasy of turning up in front of Kate on a horse, looking like Brad Pitt in Gladiator or something. Or was he thinking of Troy? Either way, it wasn’t very easy tracking down a horse in Central London. And he couldn’t ride. And as for looking like Brad Pitt…
He sighed. No, flowers were a much better option. “I think it’s probably a little warm for armor,” he said. “And I haven’t really got the time for riding lessons.”
“Fair point,” Sal said with a shrug. “Anyway, she told me she’s given up on being a romantic. Apparently she’s pragmatic and ballsy now. Whereas Ed, well, he’s gone quite the other way. Did I tell you that he turned up at work the other day to take me out to lunch? Just out of the blue? The investigation cleared him, and the first thing he wanted to do was celebrate with me. Isn’t that romantic?”
Her eyes looked past Tom dreamily and he cleared his throat. “Yeah. Thanks, Sal. Really useful.”
“My point,” Sal said, sighing, “is that you don’t need flowers necessarily. Just tell her that you’re crazy about her and I guarantee she’ll swoon. You know, if she likes you back, that is.”
Tom looked at her nervously. “What if she doesn’t?”
Sal shrugged again. “Then at least you don’t have to walk away carrying a huge bouquet of flowers and looking like an idiot. You just… walk away, I guess. And come round here for chocolate and sympathy.”
“Right,” Tom said. “Great. Thanks, Sal.”
“You’re welcome!” Sal said, beaming. “Now, is that the sun coming out? I rather fancy a walk in the park. …”
Kate smiled gently as Betty opened her eyes and looked around her.
“Did I fall asleep?” she asked, as her eyelids fluttered open. “I didn’t miss the filming, did I?”
Kate grinned. “As if we’d be able to film without you,” she chastised her. “The cameras are just on their way, actually. I just wanted to check that you’re okay and that you’re feeling up to it. Because we can always reschedule. …”
Betty shook her head briskly and pushed herself up to a sitting position. “I wouldn’t hear of it,” she said, sounding more alert. “I’m the star, and the show must go on, isn’t that right?”
Kate laughed.
“And how’s the hospice looking?” Betty asked. “Is my en suite bathroom ready yet?”
Kate shook her head. “Right now, I’m afraid that walls are being stripped and electrical points put in, along with a whole new central heating system,” she said. “But you’ll have an en suite bathroom at the hotel you’re going to whilst the renovations are done. Along with a minibar.”
Betty’s eyes twinkled. “Sounds wonderful. I could do with a quick nip now, actually. Fancy joining me?”
Kate looked at her sternly. “I’m not sure that drinking alcohol is the done thing before an operation, so I’ll pass, thank you. But I do have a few loose ends to tie up, so if it’s alright with you I’m going to leave you to sleep for another half an hour or so before everyone else gets here. Okay?”
Betty shrugged, then closed her eyes again, and Kate wandered out of the ward and checked her watch. The camera crew would be here any minute, but she’d keep them outside for a while, she decided—Betty might think she was okay, but Kate didn’t want the glare of the lights on her until she’d had time to wake up properly.
It was funny, she thought, being here at the hospital and not knowing where Tom was, or even if he was in the building. They hadn’t spoken in … well, in a long time. She wondered how he was. Wondered if he ever thought about her.
Probably not, she decided. She needed to move on, get on with her life. Like Sal, who now seemed to be on a one-woman mission to create the perfect baby with the perfect environment. Every time Kate spoke to her, she was buying Mozart to develop its brain or eating spirulina to provide it with nutrients; she wouldn’t step foot in a smoky joint like the Bush Bar and Grill if you paid her, and even if she would, you’d have to prize her away from Ed, first. The two of them had suddenly become inseparable, spending their weekends shopping for prams and their evenings eating organic food and reading babycare books.
Kate had never seen her happier.
Slowly, she wandered out toward the front of the hospital to wait for the camera crew. But as she got there, she saw a man running toward her, his face partially hidden by a large bouquet of flowers.
He arrived in front of her and prostrated himself on the ground, holding the flowers up to her, a look of absolute contrition on his face.
Kate stared.
“You?” she asked in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
32
Joe looked up at Kate, his face full of shame.
“I wanted to talk to you before, but Penny wouldn’t let me. Wouldn’t…” He bit his lip. “Kate, I made the most terrible mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve been so miserable, and it made me realize … I’m in love with you, Kate. I don’t expect you to take me back, but I had to tell you—had to beg you to at least hear me out. Maybe over dinner?”
Kate looked at him incredulously. “You want me to have dinner with you? Are you mad?”
Joe sighed. “I know. I’ve been an idiot. But I was coerced into it. Penny told me that it was the only way to kick-start my career in this country and I believed her. I believed her that you wouldn’t want to hang out with some loser who couldn’t get past a first audition. But I missed you, Kate. I never stopped thinking about you. God, you have to believe how sorry I am …”
Kate took a hesitant step toward him. “You went out with Penny for the publicity?”
Joe nodded. “It was all her idea.”
“So you humiliated me just to get your profile enhanced?”
Joe squirmed. “I’m so ashamed,” he said morosely. “But you were right. She isn’t human. She’s like the devil. She was sucking out my soul, every minute I spent with her. Not like you. With you, I was … happy.”
“So I guess it’s been a good lesson, then,” Kate said.
“Okay, you’re right.” Joe nodded. “I’ve been an asshole. And I know you’ll never take me back. But at least let me buy you dinner to make up for it. At least let me say I’m sorry properly.”
Kate sighed and looked at Joe. It felt like a million years ago that she’d thought she might be in love with him. A lifetime ago.
“You’re right, Joe, I won’t take you back,” she said gently. “And dinner probably isn’t such a great idea either. But thank you for the thought.”
“But…” A tiny crease appeared between Joe’s brows. “Kate, I’m still in love with you. I know I am. All that time with Penny, you were on my mind all the time. I…”
“You’re not in love with me,” Kate said. “And I’m not in love with you. I’m sorry, Joe, but I think it’s probably best if we don’t see each other again. I’ve got this program to make, anyway, so I’m really busy right now. …”
Joe nodded. “I understand,” he said. “But here, these flowers are for you. And if you cha
nge your mind, I’ll be waiting. I’ll be waiting right by my phone.”
Kate nodded. “We never said good-bye, did we, Joe?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “I guess we didn’t.”
She took the flowers, put them down, and reached up to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Now we have closure,” she said softly. “Joe, it’s time to move on.”
Tom stared at the scene in front of him, rooted to the spot. The huge bunch of daffodils he’d eventually decided to buy because they looked so bright and springlike, so full of hope, fell from his hands as he watched Kate putting her arms around Joe’s neck.
He wrenched his eyes away and turned, kicking the daffodils out of the way as he raced out toward the Fulham Palace Road.
He was too late. Joe had come back. Kate’s knight in shining armor, the one she’d been so in love with, had won her back. With a huge bouquet of flowers, Tom couldn’t help noticing. Not some poxy little bunch of daffodils.
What had he been thinking? Had he honestly thought that he had a chance? That Kate was going to throw herself at him and tell him that she loved him, too, that she also thought about him every hour of every day and that she couldn’t bear the idea of living without him?
Of course she wouldn’t. The one time he’d thought that maybe, possibly there might be something between them had been the night Joe had left her, the night she’d been let down, humiliated. He’d probably seemed quite a good proposition right then. If he hadn’t panicked and got the hell out of there, things might have turned out different.
But he had panicked. And things were as they were. Which was probably a good thing because even if he’d stayed, even if he’d called her instead of hiding in his flat like a pathetic loser, it wouldn’t have lasted. Joe would have come back sooner or later, and he’d have had to see her apologetic face telling him that it wasn’t him, it was her; she liked him, but not like that….
No, it was better this way. Hopeless romance was not for him: It made you start hoping for happy endings, and that was dangerous.