It's Now Or Never
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‘Fancy only knowing someone for three weeks and then marrying them and it lasting for all those years.’
‘Exactly. That’s what I mean about it being a bit of a lottery. I mean you hear stories like that, but then there are those people who’ve lived together for years, finally decide to get marriage and then, within a matter of months, it’s all over. I’ve never quite understood that either.’
We moved onto our main course. The most delicious aromas were wafting towards my nostrils; roasted duck breast, potato rosti, honey roasted carrots and savoy cabbage.
‘Hmm, that happened to me,’ I said, not entirely sure why I was choosing to divulge this information to a stranger.
‘What? You’re married?’
‘No, I was. Nearly. I mean, I nearly got married. Could you pass me the water please?’ More water, less champagne was clearly what was required here. ‘I was with someone for nine years and we were about to get married and then, well, we split up.’
‘Oh, that’s tough. Sorry for that. Nine years is like a marriage.’
‘Yeah, it was just one of those things,’ I said, waving my hand in front of my face in a suitably nonchalant manner as though it hadn’t mattered in the slightest. ‘It obviously wasn’t meant to be. Maybe for those couples who have been together for a long time, getting married is a sticking plaster to cover the cracks already in the relationship, and it’s only when they’ve made that firm commitment that they realise that they can’t make it better after all.’
Alex pondered on that for a moment before tilting his head to one side and nodding his head sagely.
‘That’s very profound. You might have a point there.’
And I wondered as I said it if that’s what had happened to Paul and me. It had been a now or never situation. We’d been together so long we either had to make a commitment or go our separate ways. It was only when we started thinking about our future, making definite plans, that we realised our future didn’t belong together after all. Maybe Alex was right. Perhaps it was more of a lottery than I thought.
‘So you’re suggesting, to be in with a chance of having a long and happy marriage, it’s better to marry someone relatively quickly after meeting them?’ He quirked his eyebrow in a way that spiked an instant response from the deepest depths of my stomach.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I said, looking away, feeling a heat rise in my cheeks. ‘I’m hardly an expert on these matters.’
I wasn’t sure how we’d got on to this subject.
‘You and Tom work together?’ I said, desperate now to change tack.
‘We used to. We were at uni together and when we left we both went to work for the same bank in the city. It was a mad time. We worked too hard, played too hard, and probably did most things to excess.’ He laughed and I conjured up a mental image of them both; partying, living life to the full, two young men at the top of their game. ‘Three years in that job was more than enough for me. When I’d made enough money I quit. Tom’s still there though, he rode the storm out.’
‘Oh right. So what is it you do now then?’
‘I’ve an art gallery in town. The Woodland Studios? I represent a few artists locally and nationally, and sell online too. I paint a bit myself too when I get the time, which I have to admit isn’t that often these days.’
‘So quite a change from what you were doing before then?’
‘Yep. Completely different. Now I’m doing something I really love.’
I took a sip from my glass of white wine, resolving to make it my last. I was just teetering on the edge of that nicely fuzzy-headed mellow stage and knew that any more might tip me over into the ‘a-step-too-far’ stage, and I wasn’t sure Alex was ready for that. I gave him a sneaky sideways glance, hoping he might not notice, but our eyes met for a split second and a warm sensation filled my chest. Too late, I was definitely on the squiffy side of mellow now.
So I had no idea if Alex was a sophisticated hard-edged city type or a creative arty type, or more probably a compelling mixture of both. Whatever he was, and despite his dodgy views on marriage, I think I liked him. He had an air of authority about him, a quiet self-assuredness that radiated from his body. A confidence that came from knowing he was good at what he did. He had an artist’s hands too, I noticed; long expressive fingers that moved in an oddly compelling way as he spoke.
‘What do you do then?’ he asked casually.
I work in a garden centre.
The words caught at the back of my throat, refusing to come out. I’d never been embarrassed to say them before, so why I was hesitating now I didn’t know. Instead I opted for the glorified version, hating myself for doing so and wondering why I was even bothering. I mean, it wasn’t as if I was out to impress Alex.
‘I’m a buyer – luxury goods, gifts, for a large store.’
‘Ah, okay,’ said Alex, looking suitably satisfied with my answer. He had this weird way of nodding in silent approval when I answered a question, as though he was secretly interviewing me for a job, one I didn’t know I’d even applied for. He was just about to ask me something else when Nana Gladys interrupted. She turned around, a big smile on her face.
‘So can we expect you two lovely young people to be next?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Will you two be getting married next?’ she said, just at the moment when a complete silence fell around the table and all eyes turned to look at us.
‘Ah well,’ said Alex, giving Gladys the benefit of his warm genuine smile. ‘As much as that is a very tempting proposition, Jen and I have only just met today so I think it might be a little bit too soon to be talking along those lines, although you never know.’
A ripple of laughter ran round the table.
‘What do you say, Jen?’ He fixed his gaze upon me, his blue/green/brown eyes shining with mischievous intent and I looked away – not wanting him to see the flush of heat colouring my cheeks. He leant in closer, whispering in my ear. ‘Weren’t you just saying you thought that might be a good idea?’
‘Stop it,’ I hissed, turning my attention back to Gladys.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said, laughing.
Admittedly it was hot in the restaurant, but now Gladys was blushing like a teenager, showing the tell-tale signs of a rush of heat spreading up from her neck to her cheeks. I’d only known Alex a matter of hours, but I suspected he might have this effect on a lot of women.
‘I could have sworn you two were a couple. You look so right together. Don’t they make a lovely couple, Betty?’
‘Oh yes they do. Lovely.’
Thankfully, saving us any more embarrassment, Angie and Tom were making signs to move at the other end of the table and the attention was deflected onto them where it should most rightfully have been.
It had been the most wonderful wedding breakfast. We’d had mouthwatering desserts of croquembouche and lemon posset, followed by a selection of continental cheeses. Angie’s father had stood up and said a few words and if he’d harboured any bad feeling towards Tom then he certainly didn’t show it. Tom gave a heartfelt speech which had most of the women in the room close to tears. He talked of his love for Angie and how he was the luckiest man on the planet to be given a second chance with the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. No one in that room could have been in any doubt as to Tom’s complete and utter devotion to his bride, or Angie’s to her groom as her eyes shone with love and affection.
‘Thank you darling, I love you so so much,’ Angie said, grabbing me for a hug, as the bride and groom went round the room saying their goodbyes.
‘Oh, and I love you too! Have a fabulous honeymoon. Take lots of piccies. I need to see what paradise looks like.’
‘I will, I will and I’ll call you just as soon as I get back.’
In a shower of confetti, we waved Tom and Angie off as they climbed into the back of a waiting taxi ready to speed them off to the airport, and I was left with a funny feeling of regret, relief and happiness all rolled into one.
‘Are you two coming back to ours for a cup of tea?’ Even Diane, Angie’s mum, was getting in on the act now, talking to Alex and me as though we were a proper couple.
‘That sounds like a lovely idea, thank you, we’d love to,’ said Alex, putting an arm around my shoulder, answering as if we actually were one. Not that I minded in the least, it was just what I needed at the moment, a lovely cup of tea.
Chapter Five
After three cups of tea, two shortbread biscuits, a slice of fruit cake, and a long and interesting chat with Gladys and Betty about Taylor Swift, her extensive back catalogue, her fashion high-fives and faux pas, plus the ins and outs of her love life which I knew nothing about but the sisters seemed to know everything about, I decided I really ought to go and do something to make myself useful. I rounded up some dirty plates and took them into the kitchen.
Alex was sitting on a kitchen stool, idly looking at his phone. He’d lost his jacket now and had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, his tie loose around his neck. He looked relaxed and totally at ease, putting away his phone in his pocket when he saw me.
‘So what time do you think the dancing starts?’ he asked.
I laughed. His sense of mischievousness and fun shone in his eyes in a way that played havoc with my sensibilities. It had been a day of excess; the never ending glasses of champagne and wine had made me lightheaded, the delicious and abundant food had filled my tummy to the point where I thought I would never need to eat another thing again and the whole emotion of the occasion had made me thoughtful and fanciful. I glanced at my watch, it was definitely time to be going home.
‘Ha, didn’t you hear, the band have rung and cancelled. Looks like there’ll be no dancing after all.’
‘That’s outrageous,’ said Alex, shaking his head mockingly. ‘What kind of wedding reception is this? Should I go and ask Gladys if she would do me the honour?’ He smiled, looking up at me under long eyelashes, the faintest of dark shadows beneath his eyes, lending him a vulnerability I hadn’t noticed earlier.
‘Look, I’m probably going to make a move. I could do with a livener, if I’m being honest. Do you fancy going back into town, finding a bar? What do you reckon?’
It was only a casual invitation, but I felt my heart flitter-flutter at the suggestion. At the same time Angie’s cautionary words rang in my ears. This guy was a player, someone to be avoided at all costs, but despite knowing that and my head telling me I should really say my goodbyes and get the hell out of here, there was something about Alex that I found intriguing and compelling and, if I was being honest with myself, totally and utterly attractive. Totally and utterly not my type, but what did that matter. We were just two people who had hooked up together at a wedding and were enjoying each other’s company. I wanted the excitement of the day to carry on into the night. I was fed up being a sensible Sarah. Mum would be urging me to be bolder, have more fun. It was almost as if I could feel her on my shoulder egging me on. The spontaneity that was missing in my life was now knocking at my door, beckoning me outside to play and that was a much more appealing proposition than the thought of going back to my empty flat with only the television for company. Besides, it was only a drink, it wasn’t as if he was asking to marry me.
***
We ended up in a wine bar down by the river and despite my earlier protestations that I couldn’t eat or drink another thing, as soon as I sat down and Alex suggested sharing a bottle of Prosecco, it was as if there was nothing more in the world I desired at that moment.
For a moment I felt a twinge of self-consciousness wondering what was I doing there and what we would possibly find to talk about, but I needn’t have worried, Alex’s confidence and easy charm put me completely at ease. I plastered on a big smile as he handed me a filled glass and I took a sip, the bubbles having an instant restorative effect.
‘To Tom and Angie,’ said Alex raising his glass to mine. ‘Wishing them all the best for a long and happy marriage.’
‘To Tom and Angie!’
Alex’s earlier comment came back to taunt me. I’d always had doubts about Tom as marriage material, or even boyfriend material come to that, but then I didn’t know him nearly as well as Angie or Alex did. Was it really possible Alex knew something I didn’t? Had he been trying to tell me that earlier? I couldn’t bear the thought that there was something amiss, something I didn’t know about. Or more worryingly, something Angie didn’t know about.
‘So, you never said,’ I asked, trying for absolutely dead-casual, really not bothered one way or the other, ‘what chances do you give the happy couple for a long and happy marriage then?’
He gave me a rueful smile.
‘I didn’t think we were allowed to think along those lines. Look I’m sorry if I upset you earlier, it was just an off the cuff comment. I didn’t mean anything by it.’
‘You do think it will work out for them though, don’t you? I’ve never seen Angie looking so happy.’
‘Yeah, well I hope so,’ said Alex, carefully avoiding my question and my gaze. ‘Tom is a great guy. I guess they have as much chance as any other couple out there.’
‘Hmmm.’ I wasn’t sure if Alex’s lukewarm response was due to his reservations about Angie and Tom as a couple or if he was anti-marriage in general. I suspected the latter. ‘Can you see yourself getting married one day?’ I asked.
He tilted his head to one side, pondering on my question before pursing his lips.
‘Possibly.’ He tilted his head the other way, narrowing his eyes.
‘Maybe.’ He looked me directly in the eye.
‘Definitely,’ he said, laughing.
‘Well that’s conclusive,’ I said, laughing too.
‘I don’t know if I ever will,’ I said, uncertain why I felt the need to tell Alex this riveting piece of information, and not realising I even felt that way until the words were out there.
‘That’s rubbish. I barely know you, but you strike me as the marrying kind. Here, let me have a look at your hand.’ He took hold of my hand and turned it over, stroking his thumb across my palm. He pushed my fingers back and then gently traced the lines on my hand in a movement that was so light it was almost imperceptible, but still managed to send shivers down my spine at the same time. I looked up into his eyes and our gaze locked for the briefest moment, before I had to look away.
‘Aha, just as I thought, I can see it all here, there’s a very exciting future ahead for you.’
‘Is that right?’ I knew he was teasing me, but I was more than willing to play along with the game. ‘So tell me then, what can you see?’
‘Definitely a marriage. Within two years, I’d say. A big white wedding, I think.’
‘Really, well I suppose I ought to get a move on and meet this mystery man then. Two years isn’t that long to meet someone and then decide I’m going to marry him.’
‘And your marriage will be blessed with children.’
‘It will? Really? This is getting more interesting by the minute. How many?’
‘Let me see.’ He lifted my hand higher, peering closer at a random spot on my palm. ‘Four, I’d say. Possibly more.’
‘WHAT?!’ I nearly snorted my wine out at that revelation. ‘Four? Good grief. Absolutely no way. Two possibly, at the most, but there’s no way I can imagine having four children. I’m not even sure I’m that maternal.’ I snatched my hand away, laughing.
‘Ah well, I find a lot of people don’t want to hear the truth. It is a cross I have to bear with this special gift I have.’
‘Is that so? Okay tell me about my job then. Sounds like I don’t need to worry about my personal life, that’s all sorted, but I could do with some guidance on my career.’
‘Let me see?’ He picked up my hand again and ran his finger around the outline of my hand and then up and down and around the length of my fingers. By this stage I wasn’t really bothered by anything he might have to say, I was more concerned about the magic his touch was tracing on my hand. That a touch so light could have such a startling effect on my whole being I found astonishing.
‘A change is on the cards,’ he said, adopting the croaky voice of an elderly woman soothsayer. ‘You mark my words, young lady.’ I laughed, shaking my head at him indulgently but he kept hold tight of my hand. ‘Really,’ he said, his voice back to normal now; warm, caressive, enticing. At that moment he could have told me anything and I would have believed him. ‘I can see a lot in your future, but I’m afraid I can’t really divulge any more. Not now. It will all become apparent with time.’
He dropped my hand like a hot potato.
‘Oh.’ I wanted to grab his hand straight back again and tell him not to stop. I’d been enjoying the sensations much more than I should have done.
‘Sorry, but I don’t want to put ideas into your head, you have to follow your own path without being influenced by anything I might tell you, but your fate is here, all laid out in your hand.’
‘Right, well that’s good to know,’ I said, feeling flustered. ‘Nothing I need to worry about then.’ Heat flushed my neck and face. His attentions were far too distracting. I looked at my hand wondering if I’d missed something obvious there, all these years. I smiled and shook my head. ‘Just one word of advice, Alex, don’t give up the day job. I really can’t see you ever making a career out of being a palmist.’
‘Er, I hope you’re not casting doubt upon my inherent abilities. People come for miles to have one of my special readings. Well I’m sure they would if they knew what a special talent I have. I’ll tell you what… do you have a pen… some paper?’
‘No.’
‘Excuse me!’ Alex beckoned the young waiter over. ‘Do you have a piece of paper and pen I could have please? And an envelope too, if possible?’
When the waiter had delivered the requested items, Alex started writing something down, craning his arm around the paper so that I couldn’t see.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Oh ye of little faith. I’m just writing down one or two predictions for you. You’ll be able to look at these a year down the line and think, “oh yes, that funny guy I met at that wedding, he did know what he was talking about after all.”’
‘Can’t I just read them now?’
‘Nope. What’s your surname?’ he asked. When he finished scribbling down whatever it was he was writing, he folded the paper in half before inserting it into the envelope. He then wrote on the outside.
‘For Jen Faraday – Not to be opened, in any circumstances, until 19th April 2016’
‘But that’s a whole year away! You do realise I’m going to go straight home after this and the first thing I’m going to do is rip open the envelope and read what you’ve said.’
‘No, you’re not,’ he said, removing the envelope from my hand. ‘Can’t you read what it says on the envelope? Not to be opened until 19th April 2016. And to save you from any temptation I’m going to give this to the waiter and ask him to put it behind the bar with strict instructions not to hand it to you until the designated date.’
‘Really? You’re mad, do you know that? Absolutely mad. I’ll have completely forgotten all about it by then. Memory like a sieve, me.’
‘Well if that’s the case then no harm done. But, if you do happen to remember, and you’re curious as to what’s in here,’ he waved the envelope in the air, ‘then you can always come and have a look. In one year’s time, that is.’
I laughed. Who knew where I might be then. Alex’s predictions were probably as good a guess as my best surmising, although I highly doubted I’d be married with four children!
‘Well thank you. You never know – if I’m in need of a bit of spiritual guidance in a year’s time, I’ll know where to come.’ Although I suspected the barman would probably bin the note just as soon as the crazy, giggling and clearly drunk couple had left the building.
Alex was looking at me intently, a lazy seductive smile on his lips.
‘Look, Jen. I don’t want this party to end.’ He reached across for my hand, but this time there was a very different intent in the action. ‘Why don’t you come back to mine for some coffee.’ He pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen. ‘Oh look, I’ve just had a text from the band.’
‘What?’
‘You know, the band who should have turned up at the wedding. They got their wires crossed apparently and turned up at my place instead.’
The breath caught in my throat as a tingle of anticipation ran down my arms.
A contented weariness spread along my body. It had been a lovely, but long and exhausting day. Weddings always affected me that way. Alex had been great company but I wasn’t the type of person to go home with someone on a first date. Only this wasn’t a first date and this wasn’t just someone. This was a charming, gorgeous, red-hot date. Six months of trawling internet dating sites hadn’t brought anyone of this deliciousness anywhere near my inbox. This was definitely the ideal opportunity to practice what my mum had preached and embrace my inner gorgeousness.
‘Bloody band, getting the details wrong,’ I said, leaning across to leave a small kiss of intent on his lips. ‘I suppose we ought to give them the benefit of the doubt and turn up for at least one dance. I mean, it would be rude not to.’
Chapter Six
‘Oh shit!’ An arm hit me in the shoulder and a flurry of sheets and pillows and covers were tossed in the air as the slow realisation of where I was and what I had done filtered into my consciousness. ‘Sorry Jen, I’ve got an exhibition opening this morning. The artist is putting in an appearance and there’s a whole host of guests turning up. Well, that’s the plan anyway. I’ve got to go. I’m late as it is.’
Alex jumped out of bed without an inch of self-consciousness and I closed my eyes as though I hadn’t seen him in all his naked gloriousness the night before. Slowly I opened them again, my eyes adjusting to the light filtering in through white linen curtains, my brain adjusting to where I was and hoping to god Alex wouldn’t turn around again. Hoping that all of this was a product of my over-active imagination.
‘Take your time though.’ Oh god, there he went, doing exactly what I hadn’t wanted him to do. I quickly snapped my eyes shut again, trying to somehow un-see what had just been staring me in the face.
It wasn’t that I was a prude, it was just that I wasn’t that sort of girl. Or at least I thought I wasn’t until yesterday. I’d got to the ripe old age of twenty-seven and never had a one-night stand before. So lord knew what had possessed me to act so out of character last night and break a habit of a lifetime.
Possibly the champagne. Definitely the undeniable attraction of the man who was now running in and out of doorways, picking up and discarding various bits of clothing as though he was the lead character in a comedy farce.
What would Angie say if I told her? That despite all her warnings I’d ended up in bed with the groom’s best friend. Probably best not to tell her, I reckoned. By the time she returned from her honeymoon this would all be a hazy memory.
A pretty good memory admittedly. Alex had been the perfect companion, funny, charming and totally seductive, and it had been all too easy to fall for his charms. Oh, and the dancing, how could I have forgotten the dancing. I’d felt like Ginger Rogers to his Fred Astaire – gliding around Alex’s living room as though we could actually dance, laughing so much until we fell into an ungainly heap onto his sofa.
It had all felt so normal and natural, as if we’d known each forever, and now I sensed that late night easy familiarity was about to be replaced by an early morning awkwardness.
Alex was hopping about the bedroom looking less like the smooth operator of last night and more as though he had two left feet, pulling on a pair of black cotton boxers that only went a tiny way to making me feel any less embarrassed by being in close proximity to such a very naked man.