‘Sarah,’ he nodded at me.
‘Hi,’ I said. He looked tired. He didn’t look like Simon. He looked older and as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn’t seem to have his oomph. I wanted to cheer him up. ‘Did you like your free advertising?’
‘Oh.’ He smiled! ‘Yeah, a blinder, thank you!’
‘Pleasure.’
‘Right, we’re off now,’ said Ruth uncomfortably.
‘Why are you going so early?’ asked Rachel.
‘Anna and I need to, er, get back to London,’ she stammered.
‘Oh, well, thank you for coming.’
I took a step forward and smiled at little Anna and she gave me another big gummy grin back.
‘You are the coolest,’ I told her, because she was.
‘Yeeaasss!’ Si said, his face finally lighting up as he picked Anna up. ‘That’s what Daddy calls you, isn’t it? You are the coolest.’ He kissed her head and Anna gurgled.
I watched them. It was the garden fork in the foot moment.
‘She is so the image of you.’ I didn’t mean to say it aloud. It was just what I was thinking. My voice cracked slightly as I said it and my pained tone surprised everyone, including myself.
‘We’d better get you to the loo,’ I said quickly to Rach, and we walked away.
I held the skirt of Rachel’s dress over her head while she peed. As she was shrouded in vintage lace, Rachel spoke to me.
‘He so knows he made the wrong choice.’
‘Don’t say that. They’ll be all right.’
‘Man, there was so horrible energy between them.’
‘Rach, stop it.’
‘Still, you’re all smoochy smoochy with Leo!’
‘Hmmm,’ I said, remembering. But I didn’t smile. I didn’t like seeing Si down. Si down was like California in the fog, or The X Factor in black and white, or alcohol-free wine. It was horrible.
We went back to the party. Dominic and Brian were dancing. I made a subtle thumbs-up to Brian. Simon was talking to Eamonn and Rachel moved to join them. I didn’t. I hung back and Leo approached me.
‘Have you seen the boat house?’ he asked.
‘No,’ I smiled.
‘Do you want to see the boat house?’
‘Hmmm. I should change my shoes though . . .’
‘OK. I’ll get some champagne, you do your feet.’
‘But Leo, we have to be back later for the burlesque show!’
‘I wouldn’t want to miss that either,’ he said with an eyebrow raised. Rachel had asked Sunflower Oil to perform. I didn’t like to tell Leo that she must have been getting on for sixteen stone.
I dashed up to my room and found Rachel’s Ugg boots. I stepped out of my heels and put them on. As I was leaving the room I stumbled on something. A folded note. I picked it up, thinking it was news about breakfast, one of my favourite subjects. I read as I walked. It wasn’t about breakfast. And by the time I had finished reading I had stopped walking and was slumped in an armchair on the landing.
Sarah, it’s Ruth.
I owe you a big sorry. Huge, in fact. I wonder whether it’s the biggest sorry I’ve ever said.
You see, I took your Simon. And I didn’t really think much of it. I didn’t really think much of you. I’d always thought you were a bit of a mess, to be honest. And when I found out you were seeing Simon I didn’t think it could be serious. But it seems it was. I think he really loves you, Sarah. I don’t think he’s ever loved me. We were both blinded by our love for little Anna, we thought some of that love might rub off on us. But it didn’t.
So I’m leaving Simon. Obviously he will still see Anna often.
I need to let him go and find his happiness. He told me you were going out with someone. But you’re not, and the way you spoke about him last night leads me to think you still love him. So I feel I need to step aside so you two can sort things out. I completely support the two of you. But most of all, I’m sorry. And I think you are a remarkable person. Truly remarkable.
Ruth
I looked down at my Ugg boots. I was supposed to be going to the boat house to do snogging with Leo Clement. How could I go to the boat house now? It felt as though Ruth had crashed like an asteroid into my life and then buggered off and left me with lots of rubble. I didn’t know what to think or what to do.
Leo ran up the stairs two at time and as soon as he reached the top he spotted me, curled up, looking suicidal.
‘Sarah, what happened?’
‘Oh,’ I tutted. ‘I got a letter.’ I weakly lifted it in my hand as proof. ‘It’s sort of taken the stuffing out of me.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, and stood before me looking both concerned and delicious.
‘No, I’m sorry.’
I sprang from my seat. I scrunched the letter into a ball and lobbed it at the rubbish bin that was about six feet away. I missed badly so had to scamper to pick it up and drop it in there. I knew if I didn’t my mother’s voice would be in my head all evening saying, ‘What would happen if everyone did that?’
We walked down the stairs together.
And it felt right. I had no idea what was in store with Leo. The future was a clear space waiting to be written. We hadn’t ballsed it up yet. I couldn’t say the same for Simon. The future with Simon would be a big messy space crammed with past hurts. He had broken me more than anyone before. It had taken a long time to rebuild myself. But the work was done now. And the construction felt stronger than it had been before. I didn’t want to risk it being bulldozed again.
At the bottom of the stairs I took Leo’s hand. We skipped through the front door and into the mild night.
‘It’s a beautiful night,’ I cried and I held out my arms and twirled as I looked up at the stars. Leo grabbed me midtwiddle and picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.
‘Honestly, put me down. You’ll hurt yourself,’ I shrieked, bashing him on the back. But he strode on. We passed the bench where I had sat that morning. There was a figure silhouetted on the seat. And I knew it was blinking, bloody Simon even before he turned round. He watched us. Leo hadn’t noticed the figure. But I had stopped squealing. It suddenly felt all wrong.
I made the sound ‘urgh’ as loudly as I possibly could. ‘Leo, can you put me down, please?’ I added.
‘Sure,’ he said, obliging.
‘Leo.’
I looked at this incredibly beautiful man who had some sort of curse making him bat so far below his best. ‘Leo, that bloke on the bench was the guy, you know the boyfriend person, and the letter was about him. It was from the girl he was with. She thinks he still loves me. And, urgh! I don’t know what to do. I want to go to the boat house, but it feels a bit . . .’
‘Wow. It was a pretty big deal with this guy.’
‘Well, I don’t know. We only went out for a few months, and I behaved like a loon and he left me for another woman. But I just hated him not being in my life.’
‘Sounds like love.’
‘Hmmm. Feels more like sadism.’
‘Well, I guess you should go and talk to him.’ He pursed his lips, smiled, then shrugged. ‘I’ll go inside and have a vodka. And I shall bid you farewell and I guess we’ll stop this train of ours here.’
‘Yeah,’ I sighed sadly.
‘But I liked being with you, Sarah Sargeant. From the moment I saw you being escorted through LAX by the police I thought you were something.’
He turned and walked away. I waited until he would be back in the house. Then I made the ‘urgh’ sound louder than ever before and marched back to Simon on the bench.
‘Urgh’ is the sound I made when I saw him. ‘Urgh’ is the noise I made again when his lips parted and his eyes widened and he stared at me all innocently.
‘Urgh’ is the sound I made when I started slapping him in the chest.
And I made the final ‘urgh’ sound as I flung myself onto the bench next to him.
‘Hi, Sarah Sargeant,’ he said casually.
‘Bugger off,’ I replied gruffly.
‘Having a nice wedding?’
‘I was.’
‘I was just enjoying the peaceful night when this mad woman started attacking me.’
‘Good.’
Simon laughed. So I told him to ‘bog off’.
‘Shall we go inside and dance?’ he asked.
I sighed. I loved dancing with Simon. He completely understood my lack of rhythm and would join me in jumping around and miming the lyrics. I felt as if I’d danced with him recently. But I couldn’t have, as I hadn’t seen him.
‘Oh,’ I said, realizing why that was. ‘I had to do this stripping scene in the film. It was mortifying, as you can imagine. But the only way I could do it was to imagine you were there, taking the mickey, going, “Show us your Bobby Davroes!”’
It suddenly felt like a very pathetic thing to tell him. And I wished I hadn’t. But he smiled. And I smiled back. It was a sad smile.
‘Maybe we should do it for real.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying that I know I screwed up completely, in every way. But you’re the one for me. I can’t really do not being with you. It’s all a bit shit, Sare. There’s not much sunshine when Sarah Sargeant isn’t around.’
‘But . . . Si . . . you just left me.’
‘I know, and you might not be able to forgive me. All I know is that I missed my mate. And I flew out to you but I saw you with that guy.’
‘I wasn’t even with him. I couldn’t even do bloody shagging, because I was thinking of you . . . you bastard.’
‘And all these blokes on Facebook kept asking you out. I thought I should leave you to it.’
‘Oh,’ I said. Julia had got carried away with getting strange men to ask me out on my Facebook page.
‘Do you think you could give us another chance?’
I didn’t answer. I looked out into the darkness.
I used to be in a wonderful relationship with a bloke called Simon. We were supposed to live happily ever after. But we didn’t. Our wonderful relationship followed the other oft-trod path.
It went tits up.
And after all that, is it possible to go back a second time and make it work?
I don’t know.
I really don’t know.
But I’m going to try.
‘Go on then, you bugger,’ I say.
My chin twitches like I’m about to cry. I blink back tears because I want to look at him. He’s here, with his little face and his dark hair. And those blue eyes that are like mine. It’s like looking in a mirror in a way. He’s so much a part of who I am. He feels like where I’m from.
‘I love you, Simon Gussett,’ I say, and I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. He smiles. A tear appears on his cheek.
‘I love you, Sarah Sargeant.’
Our faces are very close. He reaches forward to kiss me softly on the lips. I let my tears fall. They touch his. Then he pulls away a fraction.
‘Show us your Bobby Davroes,’ he says with a wink.
Acknowledgements
I owe some rather massive thank yous to some rather wonderful people. The first being my dad. If there was an award for Dad Most Well Versed in Chick Lit it would be yours, Dad. Thank you so much for tirelessly reading and listening and giving advice to me. You are amazing. As is your glamorous sidekick, Mum. I love you both so much. Thank you! A big, big thank you is undoubtedly also owed to Paul, the man who has the challenging role of putting up with me on a day-to-day basis. Thank you for spoiling me rotten, taking me to wonderful places and for flying me First Class and not minding when I got drunk on champagne and whooped at everything. Also thank you to the beautiful Caroline Devlin, oooh you are such a joy to know! Thanks too to Simon and Avia Hawksworth, Brent Gaffan and Carol Incontro for the Californian adventures. And, as ever, big thanks to my legendary friends, Simon Paul Sutton and Julia Veidt. I would also like to mention two wonderfully positive and inspiring ladies, Jan Roberts and Amanda Barr.
Now then, at the risk of it all going a bit end-of-Jerry Maguire, I want to thank Rowan Lawton, my agent, and the best agent in the world. I’m such a big fan of yours, Rowan.
I am so lucky to have such wonderful publishers. Endless thanks to all the amazing people that make up the Macmillan women’s fiction team: most importantly my editor, Jenny Geras; but also Jeremy Trevathan, Imogen Taylor and Thalia Suzuma; the genius marketing ladies, Becky, Amy and Naomi and the gorgeous Helen in publicity; also the brilliant Eli Dryden and Jennie Condell.
Last but not least, thank you to all who bought my first book and made it possible for me to write a second. I’ve been blown away by the kindness and support of friends, family and readers, from my proud sister Gail Roberts standing in W H Smith and telling everyone to buy it – that wasn’t embarrassing at all! – to my twelve-year-old nephew starting a fan club on Facebook, to receiving emails from lovely people I’d never met. Thank you.
The (Im)Perfect Girlfriend
Lucy-Anne Holmes is an actress living in London. This is her second book. Her first novel, 50 Ways to Find a Lover, had its genesis in Lucy’s blog, www.spinstersquest.com, cataloguing Lucy’s real-life love woes.
By the same author
50 Ways to Find a Lover
For Paul,
a wonderful man,
with love
First published 2010 by Pan Books
This electronic edition published 2010 by Pan Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
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ISBN 978-0-330-53415-4 PDF
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Copyright Lucy-Anne Holmes 2010
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