Winter's Fairytale

It had been over six months since my own non-wedding debacle and the pain, and even the anger, were fading more and more each day. I had come to the conclusion that I’d actually been prevented from making one of the biggest mistakes of my life. A full-on, humiliating and very public prevention, but a prevention all the same. It had, dare I say it, been a good thing. I’d even managed to sell my dress. Time really was a healer in this instance. I was moving on. It wasn’t like I was about to start dating again or anything drastic like that just yet, but I was getting through it and doing ok.

I looked up at the bride, smiled, and shook my head, the mouthful of pins I was momentarily sporting a handy excuse for not giving a more informed answer.

‘I saw Rob again yesterday lunchtime. He said he’s tried calling you but you never answer your phone or reply to any of his texts.’

‘Well then, maybe he should take the hint. What does he even want anyway?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe you should answer the phone and find out.’ Mags smiled.

I rolled my eyes.

‘Didn’t he say what he wanted when you saw him?’

Mags shook her head and speared an olive from the antipasti platter in between us. ‘Nope. Just that he’d been trying to ring you.’

‘Did you tell him I don’t want to speak to him?’

‘I didn’t know if you’d been ignoring his calls on purpose or just genuinely missed them, so I didn’t like to say either way.’

‘Well, now you know for sure so feel free to pass on my wishes next time you bump into him.’

I aimed my cocktail stick at the last remaining olive. It glanced off, causing the olive to fly from the table, ricochet off the lovey-dovey couple’s table next to us, and bounce three times on the floor before finally rolling to a stop at the feet of the restaurant owner. He looked down at the offending fruit, then at us, then back at the olive.

‘Oh my God, he’s coming over!’ Mags was now the colour of a beetroot from trying to stifle her laughter in the hushed restaurant. We normally plumped for the noise and bustle of Carluccio’s, but Mags had seen an offer for this one online and the price was too good to miss trying it out. Right now though, I was wishing we’d resisted.

‘Signorina.’

I kicked Mags under the table and looked up at the man. ‘I’m so sorry, it just sort of flew off the plate!’

He nodded. ‘Indeed. You would be surprised how much it happens.’ He smiled, gave a sweet little bow and left, gesturing to a waiter to clear away the escaped food. Moments later he was back, placing another full dish of olives down on the table, and removing the previous, now empty, bowl.

‘On the house.’ He did the little bow again, smiled at both of us, then turned and left.

‘Excellent! Well done Izz,’ Mags dived in and stabbed another unsuspecting olive. She glanced over at the owner and returned his smile before turning back to assess which olive was next. ‘I think you’ve pulled there!’ she stated, spearing her chosen subject.

‘But we could eat for free!’

Mags was again putting forward her case for why I should call the Italian restaurant bloke, after he’d made a point of handing me a business card with his mobile number written on the back. She was right. There were definite benefits. And the guy seemed nice, and was certainly attractive. So what was the problem? Why didn’t I just go for it? Embrace the joys of being a single woman in the heady metropolis of London? Honestly, I couldn’t give her a reason. Instead I tucked my arm around hers and pulled her closer under the umbrella. The snow that had been gently fluttering down earlier had become heavier whilst we’d been devouring our delicious Italian nibbles.

‘He was gorgeous!’ She tried again.

‘I know, I know. I just don’t feel I’m ready to get back on that particular horse yet.’

Mags raised her eyebrows, pondering the connotations of what I just said.

I pulled a face. ‘You know what I mean.’

She sighed. ‘I do.’ She squeezed my arm with hers, ‘I just don’t want you to miss out on anything. But you’re right. You need to do it when you’re ready.’

I hugged her back. ‘Thanks. And I’m sorry about the free food.’

She laughed. ‘I’ll get over it. Probably better for my waistline this way anyway. Oh! There’s my bus. Are you sure you’re ok from here?’

‘Positive. I’m just going to nip in and pick something up from the studio, then go home. Here, take this,’ I said, handing her the umbrella, ‘I’ve got a spare one at work.’

‘Ok, thanks! Love you! Text me later.’ She gave me a quick hug and rushed off in the direction of the stop.

I sheltered under a shop’s overhang and watched to make sure she caught the bus, before turning down the road where my studio resided, the snow inflicting sharp little pinpricks on my cheeks. The silver bells I’d hung tinkled as I unlocked the front door and pushed it open. The notes I wanted were sat on my desk. I grabbed them and put the file in my bag. One of my current brides had some really interesting ideas and I wanted to try sketching out a few designs over the weekend. They were predicting heavy snow, even in the city, so staying in and keeping warm seemed like a good plan. Going back to the door, I lifted the spare umbrella from the coat rack, and stepped outside, the cold wind immediately whipping at my face. I turned the top lock, threw the deadlock, and dropped the keys into my bag before adjusting my scarf a little higher around my neck. The wind was picking up. The spare brolly I’d grabbed wasn’t going to last five minutes. It was just going to be a case of moving as fast as possible to the tube station. Belting my coat securely, ready for the headwind I was about to face, I turned back to the street, and came face to face with Rob.

‘Shit!’ I exclaimed, stumbling back a step and bumping into the door. The snow was settling faster now and beginning to muffle the noise of the city. Including footsteps, apparently.

Rob quickly reached forward, steadying me. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.’

‘I tend to do that when people creep up behind me!’ I snapped, heart still pounding.

‘I wasn’t creeping up on you, Izzy. I just got here and was about to say hello when you turned around.’

I cast my glance up the street to where strings of themed Christmas lights shimmered through the snowflakes. In fact I was looking everywhere but at Rob. I hadn’t seen him since he’d gone out to make the speech at the church. I’d taken the opportunity of the distraction to exit via the side door and grab the first taxi I saw.

When I didn’t say anything, Rob spoke again. ‘I had a meeting with a client…’ He indicated further down the road, explaining his presence in the area.

I nodded without looking at him.

‘How are you?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine. Thank you. You?’

‘Yep. Fine. Thanks.’

I waited, feeling cold and uncomfortable. ‘What do you want, Rob?’

‘To talk to you.’

‘About what?’

Rob let out a sigh and tipped his head forward. Little flurries of snow had settled on his hair, the intense blackness of it highlighting their sparkle. He shook his head gently and they disappeared. A resigned smile was on his lips as he looked back up at me.

‘I thought we were friends.’

‘You were Steven’s best man, not mine.’ I pointed out.

‘Only because you never asked me to be a bridesmaid.’

‘The shoes didn’t come in a size twelve.’

‘Well, at least you checked before discounting me.’

I finally smiled at him. Once again, he was attuned to the horrible awkwardness I was feeling and doing his best to dissipate it. Although, to be fair, the only reason I was feeling awkward was because he was standing there. So, technically, it was his fault anyway. But I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever. He was right. We were friends. Yes, Steven had introduced us, but we’d also become friends in our own right. Not close as such, but friends all the same. Until the wedding day. For some reason, I’d suddenly felt like there were sides. And Rob, with his best man title, automatically fell on Steven’s side. I knew in my heart that wasn’t fair – on him, or me, or our friendship. But it just sort of happened and the longer I went without speaking to him, the harder it got to get over the awkwardness that I knew would arise. And here I was, six months later, feeling awkward as hell.

‘Izzy, please. Can we just go for a drink, and talk?’

I shook my head, noticing that the dampness of the air was beginning to put the curl back into my carefully straightened hair.

‘Is there anything to say?’ I asked, looking directly at him for the first time since he’d turned up. Big mistake. The hurt in his eyes stabbed at my insides. He quickly covered it with a crooked smile.

‘If you have to ask, then no. I don’t suppose there is.’ He turned up the collar of his dark grey wool coat a little more, as the wind picked up again and funnelled itself down the street, ‘Come on, I’ll walk you to the tube.’

‘That’s all right. I… um… haven’t quite finished here, and–’

‘Izzy, for God’s sake!’

I snapped my head up. I’d never once seen Rob angry. He was so laidback, normally being in his company was like a hit of Valium – in a good way. But not tonight. Tonight it seemed I had managed to push the right button.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ he asked.

‘Nothing’s wrong with me!’

‘Then why are you being like this?’

‘Like what, exactly?’

‘Ignoring my calls, my texts. Just generally refusing to speak to me at all and looking at me like you’d wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole! It wasn’t me that left you at the altar, Izz, and I’m damned if I’m going to take the blame for it!’

Silence settled between us. And then, to my utter horror – and apparently Rob’s, judging by the look on his face – I started to cry.

‘Oh no, no no!’ Within a moment, Rob had moved and wrapped his arms around me.

‘Izzy, please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

I gave a reply to say that it wasn’t his fault, I didn’t mean to cry and that I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. That’s how the reply sounded in my head anyway. All that actually came out was a gurgle-y, mumble-y sort of noise.

‘Come on. Let’s get you out of this cold.’

Rob scanned the street and saw a black cab with its light on. He curled his lips and emitted a loud whistle, sticking his hand out to signal the taxi. Seeing the cab turn towards us, he replaced his arm, the warmth of him flooding against me again.

‘I don’t need a cab to the station. It’s not far.’ I said. I knew money wasn’t an issue for Rob, and there was no way he was going to let me pay, but still, I’d been brought up not to waste money. With the traffic crawling even more than usual thanks to the weather, I could probably walk there quicker to get my train anyway.

Rob didn’t reply, merely opened the door for me as the taxi pulled up and stepped in behind me. He gave the driver an address I recognised as his apartment building.

‘Rob,’ I started.

‘I know. You just want to go home.’

He had a knack of being able to do that. Suss out what I was thinking even before I knew I was thinking it.

I nodded.

‘I know,’ he said, ‘but the news alerts have been saying that a load of trains have been cancelled and stations closed. And that was earlier, so goodness knows what it’s like now. The snow’s even heavier further out. It might be worth checking that your train is actually running before you stand freezing on a station platform.’

‘Oh. Umm,’ I sniffed and rifled through my bag for a tissue, ‘good idea. Thanks.’

‘Not a problem. Maybe I should be thanking this weather. At least it’s forced you to talk to me.’

I looked down and studied our damp footprints mixing on the floor.

‘Although I really didn’t mean to make you cry. I sort of did want the ground to swallow me whole right at that moment.’

I glanced up, expecting to see one of his lazy smiles, but his face showed nothing but remorse and honesty. I moved my head on his chest where it still lay after he’d got in the cab and pulled me back into the hug.

‘That makes two of us.’ I replied. And then realised how that sounded. I sat up, pulling away from him, ‘I mean, I wanted the ground to swallow me, not you! Standing there blubbering like an idiot at you for no good reason.’

I felt the warmth of embarrassment start to creep up my neck and pulled my scarf up in the hope of disguising it a little longer. Just as the silence was about to tick over into awkward, the taxi indicated and pulled across to the side of the road. We were in front of Rob’s apartment complex. He handed over a note and told the cabbie to keep the change, before following me out onto the snowy pavement.

As he was paying, I’d gathered myself, standing back from the edge of the road to avoid splashing from passing traffic. I waited, back straight, feeling resolutely British and foolish for my earlier unexpected outburst. Rob looked at me, his gaze becoming quizzical before he turned away to pull open the heavy door that led into the foyer of the swanky address. I hesitated before entering. Really I just wanted to go home but, if the trains were as he said they were, then it really would be best to find out which ones were still running rather than just blindly hoping mine was one of them. The taxi driver who’d dropped us off had mentioned he was glad we’d not asked him to take us further outside the city as his colleagues had been reporting the roads were getting a lot worse. Calling one to get me home was looking less and less likely. I could ring Mags and see if I could at least get to her flat. It was still a journey but less so than getting to my own place.

‘I can see the cogs whirring.’ Rob’s words jolted me out of my thoughts.

‘Sorry?’

Rob smiled as he stood aside for the occupants of the lift to exit before inviting me to enter first.

‘I imagine your brain is currently working feverishly on how to get home?’

I blushed. It really was uncanny how he could read me. If I spent an evening with him and Mags, I don’t think I’d actually have to speak at all. They both had a knack of knowing what I was going to say anyway. Odd that Steven had never had a clue. Although, fair to say, that clearly went both ways as I’d had no idea he was going to ditch me at the altar either.

‘I wouldn’t say “feverishly” exactly,’ I lied, ‘But yes, I am considering what the best solution might be.’

Honestly, I was amazed my nose didn’t grow. And from the amused look Rob gave me, so was he.

‘Stop fretting, Izz. We’ll get you home.’

The lift pinged and the doors swished open. I exited and stood aside, not knowing which way to go. I knew which building Rob lived in, but had never actually been there before. Rob followed me out. He walked down the hall to the end apartment and put his key in the lock. Turning it, he pushed open the door and stepped in, holding the door for me as I caught up.

‘Wow, this is gorgeous!’ I said, walking past him down the hall, pulling off my heels as I did so. Before me, from a huge picture window, the beauty of London shimmered under electric light. Snowflakes glittered past the window in a rush, and the roofs below now had a distinct covering of snow.

‘Yes, I have to admit that the view really sold it to me.’

‘I can see why.’

I turned to look around at the rest of the apartment. It felt welcoming and homely, but in a modern way. It certainly didn’t have the macho, bachelor pad feel I’d been expecting. Rob even had scatter cushions on his sofas! It dawned on me that there was a definite hint of a woman’s touch here. At the thought, a feeling I couldn’t quite explain went through me. I shook it off and looked down at my feet, wiggling my toes. The floor was warm on them. It felt lovely, the soothing feel of the underfloor heating thawing out my frozen toes. In the corner stood a perfectly decorated Christmas tree, with silver and white decorations twinkling in the glow from the accompanying white fairy lights. There were more lights across the mantelpiece and adorning the balustrade of the three steps that separated the kitchen from the main floor. Cards were starting to fill the hangers created for them. It was all elegantly beautiful, like living pages torn from an upmarket décor magazine. I’d seen Rob with girls during the time I’d been engaged to Steven but I’d never heard of him getting particularly serious with anyone. But then again I hadn’t been in touch with him for months. Perhaps something had changed. I surreptitiously glanced around to see if I could spot any other signs of feminine presence. The last thing I needed right now was for a girlfriend to walk in and wonder why the hell her boyfriend had a strange woman, no doubt sporting spectacular panda eyes by this point, in their flat.

‘Would you like something to drink?’ Rob asked.

A hot drink sounded perfect right at that moment. The outside of me was thawing but inside, I still felt chilled to the bone after walking from the restaurant. But I needed to get home. My hesitation told on me.

‘I’m about to check the roads and weather to see about getting you home. But my ears are frozen and I’m pretty sure part of my brain is too. I also work better when I’ve got coffee inside me, so I’m making a drink anyway. You look half frozen and it won’t do you any good if you go down with a chill, will it?’

I thought of my clients. Rob had a point. He also saw me waiver.

‘One hot chocolate coming up. Take a seat, I’ll fire up the laptop in a minute and we can plan your escape route.’

‘Don’t put it like that. I’m not looking to escape from you!’

Rob busied himself at the fancy drinks machine he had on his counter top. His mouth had an amused curve to it as he snagged a couple of the little pots that slid into the machine from a shelf just beside it.

‘Actually I was referring to your escape from the city.’

‘Oh. Of course! Exactly.’

From the corner of my eye I saw Rob almost imperceptibly shake his head as he continued to concentrate on the task in hand. I knew I’d hurt his feelings. He’d been nothing but kind to me from the day of the non-nuptials and I hadn’t had the decency to act the same. It dawned on me that he was right with what he’d said earlier. I mean, he was wrong, but he was right. From where he stood, it probably did look like I was blaming him for the whole wedding debacle – even down to getting punched on the nose! And I didn’t blame him at all. In fact, I had been inordinately glad he’d been there that day, and not just because he’d indirectly saved me from getting arrested for decking a vicar. His presence, his calming demeanour and just the small squeeze of my hand he’d given during those horrible moments when he’d had to tell me Steven wasn’t coming – it had meant so much. Firmly stuck right in the middle, he’d acted with absolute kindness and consideration towards me. I’d never thought about it from his perspective before. How would I have felt if I’d had to deliver a message like that? And all I’d done since was ignore any attempt at contact. I knew the reasons for it – at least some of them. But looking at it now, I could see how confusing it would have been for Rob. Oh God! I was a horrible human being!

Rob put the drinks down on the coffee table, a laptop tucked under his arm.

‘One hot chocolate. Get that inside you and–’ He stopped as he caught a glance at my face, ‘Are you all right? You’ve gone really pale. Look, take this,’ he leant across, pulled a soft blanket from the other sofa and laid it around my shoulders, ‘Do you feel sick, or feverish? I’ve got a mate who’s a doctor. He only lives round the corner, I can give him–’

‘Rob, I’m fine.’ I said, although I didn’t shrug off the blanket. It was so beautifully soft and snuggly.

The look on his face showed he doubted my self-diagnosis and he placed the back of his hand on my forehead.

‘You don’t seem to have a temperature.’ he noted, his voice still sounding doubtful.

‘I don’t. I’m fine.’ I said, picking up one of the mugs from the table.

‘Then why do you look terrible?’

I looked up from my drink. ‘Gee, thanks!’ I laughed, ‘You certainly know how to make a girl feel good!’

Rob tilted his head and pulled a face. ‘You know what I mean. Although your colour does seem to be coming back a little now. Are you sure you’re all right?’

I set my drink back on its coaster and turned to face him. ‘Rob. I’m sorry.’

Confusion clouded his face.

‘For?’ he asked.

I took a deep breath. ‘Well, let’s see. For punching you on the nose–’

‘You already apologised for that at the time,’ he interrupted.

‘Yes, but I didn’t apologise for actually breaking it.’

‘To be fair, you didn’t know you had broken it.’

‘So it’s true? I did break it?’ I replied, a little horrified. I was still secretly hoping Mags had got her facts skewed on this. I don’t know why I thought not breaking his nose was any better than breaking it. I’d still punched him, for goodness’ sake. But in my own little twisted mess of logic, it made a semblance of sense.

‘You did.’

‘Oh my God.’ I covered my face with my hands, shame and embarrassment flooding over me again.

Rob laughed and gave me a quick squeeze around the shoulders. ‘Don’t even think about it, Izz. I’ve been playing rugby since I was six years old. It’s not the first time it’s been broken. I doubt it’ll be the last, either.’

I dropped my hands down to my lap and slid my glance to him.

‘Honestly. It’s ok. Frankly, I was kind of impressed.’

‘What? Why?’

Rob laughed. ‘Izzy, look at you! You’re this petite, waif-y, very feminine-looking little thing who looks like she’d blow over in a strong breeze and you knocked a six-foot-three, seventeen stone rugby playing bloke on his arse and broke his nose.’

‘And that’s impressive? I’m more inclined to call it mortifying! And I’m not sure how I feel about being called a “waif-y little thing” either.’

‘It wasn’t meant in a derogatory way. A lot of men find it very attractive – look at Kylie! So don’t knock it. And yes, it is impressive. I’m still getting jibes at the club about being decked by a girl. Either way, it certainly makes me worry less about you walking to the tube!’

‘Oh dear. I’m sorry you’re getting teased. I didn’t really think that whole thing through.’

‘Don’t worry. I give as good as I get.’

I grinned. ‘That I believe.’

‘That’s the first real smile I’ve seen from you all evening.’

At his words, the smile faded a little.

‘Uh oh. Looks like I should have kept quiet.’

I rolled my eyes at him and he chuckled, sipping his coffee.

‘Let’s have a look at this weather.’ he said, opening the laptop.

I put my hand on the lid and closed it again, gently. Rob looked up, the same expression of confusion on his face as he’d shown earlier. Poor Rob. I had a feeling he wished his meeting had been elsewhere this evening, which would have allowed him to avoid bumping into me and inadvertently boarding the Isabel Emotional Rollercoaster.

‘I need to apologise for some other things, and I need to do it now. I’ve already let it go on for far too long.’

Rob didn’t say anything so I carried on.

‘I’m sorry I walked out at the church. I should have stayed until you came back in from making the announcement, not least to thank you for doing that.’

I could see Rob was about to say something. I put my hand on his arm to stall him.

‘I never thought about the position that you were in. Having to come and tell me Steven wasn’t coming. I know you and I weren’t close but we were friends, and I’m pretty sure, from what I knew – know – of you, that it wasn’t an easy thing for you to have to do. I’m sorry that you were put in that position and I’m sorry that I didn’t handle it better.’

‘Izzy.’ Rob moved and took my hands in his. They practically disappeared within them. I never thought of myself as particularly petite. Mags was pretty dinky too so there was no big comparison usually. Now, sat next to Rob, my hands engulfed in his, I could see why he’d describe me as waif-like. And I realised that, from him, I didn’t mind it. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard a similar term, but from Rob it had seemed like a compliment. That was new. I looked up from our hands and into Rob’s gentle brown eyes, surrounded by ridiculously long, thick and jealousy-inducing dark lashes.