The First Date: A heartwarming and laugh out loud romantic comedy book that will make you feel happy

by Zara Stoneley

  It’s different with Noah, I seem to be able to talk to him about anything. We don’t have the emotional history that screws it all up, puts the brakes on.

  He also actually listens and doesn’t brush me off with an ‘it’ll be fine, can you move to one side, the game’s about to kick off’.

  ‘How can he even think about not turning up?’

  ‘You’re kidding? Your dad’s not turning up to his own wedding anniversary party?’ He gives a low whistle.

  Cool down, Rosie, breathe. ‘He’s been texting, trying to give me excuses. I reckon he’s panicking cos Mum has invited some of his, his,’ I can’t call them girlfriends, or flings, ‘some of the people he plays with.’

  ‘Ahh, nicely put.’ There’s a pause. ‘Has she really invited them all?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say all, I don’t think you can hire a marquee that big.’

  He chuckles. ‘Your Mum is so cool, calling his bluff,’ I can hear the smile in his voice, ‘good for her, I can’t wait to meet her.’

  I’ve never thought of Mum as ‘cool’ before, or the fact that she’s bravely calling his bluff – but maybe he’s right.

  ‘I’ve always thought of her as having all her spark knocked out of her by dad, but you could be right. Maybe she’s tougher than I gave her credit for.’

  ‘I’m sure she is, just like her daughter. She’s lucky to have you; you’re lucky to have each other. How does the song go, together you’re indestructible?’ He chuckles.

  ‘Invincible, Muse,’ I say, smiling. This calms me down a bit. ‘I think he’s bricking it actually.’ He wouldn’t have called me otherwise. ‘Serena’s name came up.’

  ‘Serena?’

  ‘Top of the bill in Rome. She’s a cellist,’ I’m not quite sure why my brain fixates on things like that, ‘we thought that was over a while ago but maybe not. She was thrilled to be invited; maybe she wants to eye up the opposition, or crow, or wrap her bow round his neck?’ I end on a hopeful note, and Noah laughs again.

  ‘Maybe your mum is hoping they’ll all turn on him! Batter him with a double bass?’

  ‘Funny!’

  ‘Clobber him with a clarinet?’

  ‘Haha.’

  ‘Flay him with a flute?’

  ‘I think you’re getting your wind and string section confused.’

  ‘Help me out here, I’m struggling.’

  I laugh, then sober up. ‘I hope he behaves, for Mum’s sake.’ He’ll turn up. He has to. I’m worrying over nothing. How can he not turn up now Mum has invited all his friends? Letting his family down is one thing, standing his wife up on their thirtieth wedding anniversary is fine. But showing the whole world he’s a selfish git? No. Not his style. ‘He’ll be there, it will be fine.’

  ‘It will, and you’ll be there for her if she needs you.’

  And who will be there for me, I think.

  ‘And I’ll be there for you,’ he says as though he’s read my thoughts. There’s a silence while we both take that in. ‘Right,’ he’s gone all brisk, ‘I’ll be with you shortly. Just had an issue with the car, all sorted now.’

  Chapter 23

  Dad is not here. I can tell, even before we walk up the steps. Because if he was, he’d be flinging the door open before we knocked, before we’d got out of the car. It’s what he does.

  Makes it all about him.

  We have arrived at the party ten minutes late and he is not here. Surely the host is supposed to arrive before the guests.

  I glance nervously at Noah and try not to bite my bottom lip too hard. He squeezes my hand. ‘Okay?’

  ‘Oh Rosalie!’ Before I can answer, the door is flung open and Mum wraps me in a hug. She’s good at hugs, which people who don’t know her don’t expect – as she’s so glam on the outside. New friends kind of lean in tentatively for an air kiss and are swept off their feet (sometimes literally). ‘You’re here!’

  ‘Of course, I’m here!’

  ‘Well you never know.’ This is the only indication that all is not one hundred per cent well in mummy-land. ‘Come in, come on, introduce me to this gorgeous friend of yours. Good heavens, how on earth can you resist him? You’re a stronger woman than me!’

  I have found this to be increasingly challenging. The resisting bit. But I’m not going to tell Mum that. I was nearly turned into a melty mess when he knocked on my door earlier. My legs as well as my tummy had a kind of wobble thing going on, and I was so tempted to leap on him for hugs in the manner of my mother that I scared myself.

  I’m sure this was because 1. I’ve not eaten, and 2. have got myself into a state about the possible repercussions of this party, and it is absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I’ve been starved of seeing him for several days and he’s now turned up looking even hotter than ever.

  It’s like being taken to an Italian restaurant when you’re on a carb free diet. Excruciating. I have to keep reminding myself that in the long run the abstinence will be worth it. My heart will thank me.

  I could cut this off at the knees by explaining the prosaic and boring reason why Noah is here. I could explain that despite being my father’s daughter I am incapable of tackling the dating game without backup, that Noah is only here as a favour and because he’s such a nice man, not because he fancies me in the slightest, and that despite the fact that I cannot ignore the fact I fancy the pants off him, I will not be actually removing them as my head has told my heart to stop being such a jerk.

  ‘More to the point, how can I keep my hands off a girl who takes after such a glamorous mother.’ Noah grins his cheekiest smile and I inwardly groan, and outwardly roll my eyes at him.

  ‘A charmer as well!’ Her smile broadens. ‘I do love a charmer.’

  ‘Don’t I know it.’ I mutter this into the bouquet of flowers I’ve brought her, so she doesn’t hear. Unfortunately burying my nose in lilies is not a good idea. I come out sputtering.

  ‘Rosie, are you okay?’

  ‘Yes, Mum. These are for you.’ I shove them at her. I’m not okay. I’m so wound up I might spontaneously combust at any minute. For a girl who doesn’t like emotional conflict (or real passion on any level), this is a nightmare.

  Let’s just spell this out. I’ve come to a party to support my mother, against my father who I’ve started to realise is a complete shit not my knight in slightly tarnished armour, who it looks like isn’t going to turn up (but I didn’t know that so have worked myself into a tizz about what I’m going to say to him) anyway. I have brought a fake boyfriend, who I wish was my real boyfriend because he’s so hot my nether regions start to tingle indecently the moment they see him, and I feel sick that after today he might exit my life forever.

  So, no, I’m not that okay.

  ‘I’m great! You’re looking very glam for a party in the back garden! You look amazing.’ She does. In fact, there’s an edge to her I haven’t seen for a long time. I remember when I was little, watching her put the finishing touches to her make-up before she went out for the evening. She glowed. She was like a princess.

  I’d never noticed how much her light had been dimmed over the last few years; it must be exhausting trying to hang on to a husband who is so good at being elusive.

  ‘Thank you, darling.’ She touches my arm lightly. ‘That’s a lovely thing to say. Now come on you two, let’s go and get you a drink.’

  Noah’s fingertips rest on the small of my back as we walk through the house, and it’s impossible to ignore. I want him to walk his fingers up my spine, to kiss the nape of my neck to …

  Stop!

  I stop abruptly and turn around so that I can hiss in his ear.

  ‘You can stop the flattery while we’re here.’ I can’t help myself, my self-protection mode has kicked in, to override my ‘I want to jump on you’ mode.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he whispers back, his closeness sending goose bumps down my arms. Maybe getting this close wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had.

  ‘That comment ab
out me taking after Mum! She knows we’re just friends.’ Oh shit, why am I doing this? Why can’t I just go with the flow rather than trying to create an argument that I know I’ll regret? Hitting out at him will change nothing. Except I suppose then he might realise I need lots more lessons, so hang about a bit longer.

  ‘It wasn’t flattery, you do.’ He moves from my ear, his warm breath fanning my cheek, until he’s facing me. Nose to nose. Looking straight into my eyes. Gulp. ‘You’re beautiful, fun and clever.’ He pauses. ‘But still a bit scary.’ Then he grins.

  ‘Here you are, darling, a nice champagne cocktail, and you can have a Tom Collins, is that okay?’ Noah nods, and takes the drink, looking slightly bemused. Knowing me hasn’t prepared him at all for meeting my mother. ‘Oh, your dad isn’t coming by the way,’ I am aware the smile has gone from my face and I’m gripping her hand as well as the stem of the glass, ‘but I bumped into Bea in town earlier and asked her to come along, isn’t that nice? I do hope she does, the more the merrier, we’ve got lots of food!’

  She says it all matter of fact-ly. The Bea bit in the same tone as the Dad bit.

  ‘Dad isn’t coming?’ I glance at Noah, his lips are pressed into a thin, hard line.

  ‘No darling, he sent me a message. Oh Rosalie, I hope you’re not too upset.’

  ‘I’m upset for you, Mum, not me!’ I’m fuming. I have come to the realisation that ‘pearl’ anniversary may be strangely appropriate as Dad is the irritant, the dirt that crept into her life and she’s wasted the best years of her life doing her best to cover the irritant up, protect herself, make something beautiful.

  She sighs. ‘I asked Bea to come, because I thought you might be upset, and I didn’t know if you’d bring Noah along. Oh Rosie.’ She hugs me.

  ‘What do you mean, you thought I might be upset? You didn’t know …’

  ‘I just had this feeling that your dad might pick this moment to finally burn his bridges. He’s a coward, Rosie. I’m sorry but he is.’

  ‘Burn his bridges?’ I know he’s a coward. I’ve never really wanted to accept it, or say it out loud. But those texts? I mean, really.

  ‘Shall we sit down?’

  ‘Mum, tell me!’

  ‘I forced him into a bit of a corner if I’m honest. I know it’s underhand, but …’

  ‘Mum! What’s his excuse this time?’

  ‘Oh Sally, so pleased you could come! Catch up with you in a moment!’ Mum stops for a moment to hug her neighbour, and I wait, worried. ‘Where was I? Oh yes, he got Serena pregnant.’

  ‘What?’ Whatever I was expecting, it was not that.

  ‘Serena. You know, the when in Rome girl.’

  I didn’t know she knew about Rome.

  ‘But, I got her email for you and—’

  ‘Oh, I already knew, darling, or I wouldn’t have been so keen to invite her, would I?’

  I’m pretty sure I’d have fallen over, if it hadn’t been for Noah’s hand on my waist. He kind of neatly caught me, and now I seem to have wilted against his side. ‘Oh my God, she’s pregnant and you knew. And you invited her to your anniversary party? And he’s leaving us for Serena?’ Are you mad? I could have added, but I don’t.

  ‘He’s not leaving us.’

  ‘Not?’ I manage to separate myself a bit from Noah.

  ‘Well no, that isn’t his style, dear. He refused point-blank to do that when she asked. Poor girl.’

  ‘What do you mean “poor girl”? Mum!’

  ‘Well she is a poor girl; she’s young, naïve, like I was once. He’s never going to go, Rosie,’ her tone is soft, ‘the next woman might not be so forgiving, and then he wouldn’t have the security he wants.’

  ‘But you can’t … oh Mum. Why did you invite them all if you knew …?’

  ‘So your dad could pick, out in the open. In front of everybody who matters to him.’

  ‘What?’ I am flabbergasted, is she stricken with grief? ‘How can you make him pick … even though you know he’ll pick you.’

  ‘Oh Rosie, I’m sorry.’ She strokes my hand, not looking at all upset, then looks at Noah as though she expects him to understand something I’ve missed. ‘I’m not one of the choices, darling. I am off the menu and he’s not even had the decency to turn up so I can have my moment!’

  I frown.

  ‘Honestly, that man would never let me win. Not once! I want them all to know who he is. It’s always been on his terms, and just for once I wanted it to be on mine.’ She sighs. ‘He won’t even let me have that. It’s not about revenge though, it is about getting a decent settlement! Now come on, it’s a party, off you two go, have a dance!’

  I am confused. Very confused. I also feel that my mother has set down the gauntlet as they say. She’s in a feisty mood today, and if I refuse to dance with Noah, she might get even worse. And what did she mean by ‘settlement’?

  ‘Oh look, there’s Donald! Give me a moment, darling, you circulate, I’ll come back and explain properly later. I’m sure we’ll get a moment before you go. Donald, Donald!’ She waves madly and is off at the double. I don’t know how she balances and manages to look fabulous in those heels. I think I need to ask for lessons.

  ‘Wow, I thought you were direct, sexy and a force to be reckoned with, I can see where you got it from now.’ Noah puts a mock startled look on his face, and I laugh. ‘Great cocktails though.’

  I take a big gulp of mine, then realise the error of my ways. By the time I’ve stopped spluttering Noah and I seem to have been squeezed against the wall by the crowds queueing for the buffet.

  ‘You look like you need another?’ He expertly lifts two more glasses off the tray of a passing waiter, and I drink the second one a little more cautiously.

  ‘I haven’t got a clue what’s in this, but it’s pretty potent!’ It is, I’ve not eaten all day and it has gone straight to my head.

  I look at Noah and all of a sudden all I can smell is him.

  His grey-blue gaze is fixed on me.

  ‘Okay?’

  ‘Fine.’ I whisper back.

  I want to kiss him. I have to kiss him again. Just once more.

  ‘Dance?’

  ‘I’m okay here.’ I don’t want to move. I don’t want to end this moment, in case I never get it back again.

  ‘You’re swaying.’

  ‘I like this track.’ I can’t help myself.

  ‘Cool.’ He offloads the glasses, and both his hands are on my waist.

  I really want to kiss him. I want, I need, to know if that feeling I got when I assaulted him in the park, used him as a Gabe diversion, was real. If our kiss in the bar was as eye-wateringly good as I thought it was.

  I’ve dreamed of that moment our lips touched; I’ve fantasised about what would have come next if Gabe hadn’t stopped and talked to him. I’ve tormented myself and convinced myself it just seems like it was incredible because he’s forbidden fruit. I can’t have him, and that has to be why I think it was so good.

  ‘I like your mum, she’s cool.’

  ‘I know.’ His shirt is so light, I can feel the warmth of his skin beneath my palm, feel the beat of his heart. ‘She is.’

  ‘And beautiful, like you. I meant that, when I said it earlier. I wasn’t just flirting.’

  His eyes have darkened and it’s so sexy I honestly feel like I’ve stopped breathing. How can he make me lose the power to breathe just by looking at me?

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ He moves his hand against my back and the need starts to build. I’ve never, ever thought of myself as somebody who needs sex, but right now I’m re-categorising.

  His hard thighs are pressed against mine and still I’m moving to the music, which makes him gasp when my hips sway against a part of his trouser that, let’s just say, wasn’t jutting out like that before.

  ‘Oh Rosie.’ He brings one hand up between us, rests his finger under my chin, then very slowly, very deliberately he leans down. I still can’t remember how to brea
the, my whole body is tensing, my lips parting and then abruptly he closes the tiny gap between our mouths and comes down crushingly hard.

  I was expecting a delicate brush of the lips, expecting a chance to object, to move away, but this is so much hotter. This is irresistible, this is something that I never imagined could be like this. This is bloody hot-and-panting heaven.

  I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like this in my entire life. My whole body has gone into overdrive. Super sensitive to his touch and the shudder runs right through the core of me as his hand cradles my face, his fingertips caressing that sensitive spot behind my ear that makes me whimper.

  Oh my God, his other hand is cradling my bottom. He’s just added a whole new dimension to this, and I don’t know if I can cope. His fingers are curled round, and I’d clamber all over him if I could.

  Who knew nibbling lips was so erotic? Oh my, his mouth is on my throat. I need, I need …

  Oh. My. God. I need to get away!

  ‘It’s my, my …’ I can’t even say the word. ‘I need the loo!’ Apparently, I can run very fast in high heels. I’m across the lounge, up the stairs and locked in the en-suite quicker than I thought possible. I sink down on the toilet seat and pant. And cover my burning face with my hands.

  Okay, I think I have found this passion that Mum was so keen for me to experience. I don’t think she meant me to feel it at her party though.

  Shit. I actually wrapped my leg round him.

  I bit his lip; I sucked his tongue. I pulled my fists through his hair.

  I wrapped my leg round his thigh, almost round his bloody waist.

  All to the rocking beat of ‘Simply the Best’.

  Tina Turner would have been proud of me.

  And then I saw MY DAD.

  My father is here, and the look of disdain on his face said that he’d just spotted his daughter acting like a tramp on the dancefloor and was disgusted.

  My dad saw me eating a man. I feel sick.

  I need to take a deep breath. Breathe, breathe, calm down. I have done nothing wrong, who is he to judge me? He’s the one who has made another girl pregnant. He’s the one who goes shagging his way round Europe as though he’s on a mission to unite the world.