Название | It's Now Or Never |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Jill Steeples |
Жанр | Сказки |
Серия | |
Издательство | Сказки |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474035545 |
He stood up and looked at his watch.
‘Aargh, sorry, Jen, I would really love to stay, but I have to go.’ He gave me a chaste kiss on the forehead before turning around and leaving. ‘I’ll see you soon, yeah’ he called, the front door slamming shut after his departure.
No sooner was he out of the way than I quickly jumped out of bed. I didn’t want to hang around any longer than I had to, fumbling around his kitchen trying to feel as though I had every good reason to be there when in fact the opposite was true.
I’d felt a prick of shame even before I’d rolled out of bed, which was ridiculous really. I had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. I was a consenting adult and so was Alex, although it didn’t help that he’d already departed the crime scene. No, however much I tried to convince myself that this was all absolutely fine I still felt like a burglar stealthily negotiating a property I had no right to be in. I just hoped Alex wouldn’t dash back and find me scrabbling around the floor for my knickers, or the doorbell wouldn’t buzz or the phone wouldn’t ring or the owner of the earrings wouldn’t put in an early morning appearance. Those damned earrings! Who did they belong to exactly? I sighed. It had nothing to do with me, of course, but that was the trouble with romantic flings, there were so many unanswered questions.
I threw my clothes on, the ones so hastily abandoned last night, picked up my phone and my bag, gave a hasty check of the bedroom to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind, before letting myself out of the front door, relieved and disappointed that I would never need to see Alex again.
***
I marched out of the wine bar, my cheeks stinging with humiliation. Damn that woman! Who the hell did she think she was, telling me I couldn’t have my letter. I had every mind to march straight back in there and give her a piece of my mind. This time if she refused to hand it over I would clamber over the bar and rip it from her hands, but then if I did come off worse in a fight I might just be left with a few scraps of torn up paper which would defeat the object entirely. It even crossed my mind to phone the police to report the letter as stolen, but I could see that might be a slightly over-the-top thing to do. Besides, I wasn’t entirely sure of my legal rights to an envelope with my name on, but with a ‘do not open until’ proviso scribbled across the front.
The thing was I felt even more curious as to the contents of that note this morning, although why I was tormenting myself with ‘what-ifs’ I didn’t know. If I did get to read the letter, I would probably only end up disappointed. What was I expecting to find out? That Alex really did hold the secrets to my future. It was laughable. It had only been intended as a bit of fun.
That envelope was the only link I had with Alex now. Despite him saying he’d call me, we both knew that was unlikely. Outside of our mutual friends Tom and Angie, we had absolutely nothing in common. The truth was I probably wouldn’t see him again and that realisation as I mooched along the high street looking in the shop windows filled me inexplicably with sadness.
Crikey, what was wrong with me? I clearly still had too much wine sloshing around my veins to be making me so maudlin this morning. This was obviously why I wasn’t cut out for this one-night stand malarkey. I was over-thinking the whole thing, giving it much more importance than it merited.
I stopped outside an employment agency and looked up at the myriad of jobs adorning the windows. At least I shouldn’t have too much difficulty in finding some temporary work when I left Browns. Shame it wasn’t open today or else I would have gone in and signed up, but I resolved to do that first thing tomorrow.
No, the best thing to do was completely forget about Alex. It had been great, but it had been of the moment and now the moment was over. Thinking about it, I don’t suppose there’d even been an art exhibition he’d had to rush off to this morning – he was an accomplished one-night-stander and this was probably just his standard excuse for extracting himself from any awkward situations.
Ha ha, yes! If I was going to love more, with casual abandon, without losing my heart to every man who came along, I really would have to learn the rules of the one-night stand game.
I turned to go home, but something stopped me in my tracks. What was the point when I’d only end up slouching on the sofa watching a box set, while eating too much chocolate and drinking more wine which my body certainly didn’t need. Much better to stay outside and walk off the excesses of the previous day.
I walked through the high street with a renewed sense of purpose, up into the Old Town and through the alleyways that were home to a selection of independent shops and galleries. I rarely came up here, I had no reason to, but there was no reason to say I couldn’t. It was perfectly normal behaviour for a Sunday morning. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. It was what other people did with their weekends; strolled in the sunshine around the bespoke boutiques and jewellers, looking into the windows of the craft and gifts stores, stopping off for a cup of tea or coffee in one of the many welcoming cafes.
My heart picked up a pace as I found Bell Alley and I walked along the cobbles on one side of the thoroughfare, my gaze scanning the signs hanging above the shop frontages. When I saw Woodland Studios I felt a sense of relief. It was definitely a gallery and there were definitely people inside milling around and yes, I just managed to see from the corner of my eye that it looked to all intents and purposes like an art exhibition. Hooray! Alex hadn’t been lying to me after all. I could go home now with my dignity and honour intact. I wasn’t sure why it had felt so important to verify that information, but it had and now my curiosity had been sated I felt a whole lot better.
‘Excuse me.’ I was standing directly opposite the gallery when a large man in a straw hat with a camera around his neck stopped me. My eyes widened as I tried to circumnavigate his considerable girth, taking tiny little steps one way and then the other to try and hurry him along the path so that we were out of direct sight of Alex’s shop, but the American gentleman in the hat wasn’t picking up on my non-too-subtle hints.
‘Yes,’ I said impatiently.
‘Sorry to trouble you miss, but I wondered if you could tell me where I might be able to buy some candy. I hear there’s a shop around here somewhere, but I’ve not happened upon it yet.’
My gaze did an involuntary sweep down to his rotund tummy and I had to bite on my tongue to stop myself from suggesting that perhaps he’d already had one too many candies. Instead I smiled sweetly, and pointed him down the hill.
‘Go down to the bottom of this alley and then turn right onto Peacock Mews. The sweet shop is in the far corner.’
‘Well thank you ma’am,’ he said, tipping his hat towards me in gratitude. ‘You really are a perfect English rose, aren’t you?’
‘Thank you,’ I said blushing, using his considerable size to hide behind as I shuffled round his body and attempted to make my getaway.
‘Jen!’
I froze on the spot. Oh god no, please no.
‘Jen, is that you?’
I considered for a moment asking the American if I couldn’t hide beneath his jacket and go and buy candies with him, but it was too late. I’d already been spotted. I peered out from behind the man to find Alex looking at me, a bemused smile on his face.
‘Hey, I thought it was you. What are you doing here?’
I watched as the man sauntered off, a smile on his face and I wondered if it wasn’t too late to run after him.
‘Oh, me, I was, um, just walking home.’ Humiliatingly I was still wearing my wedding outfit from yesterday which was looking as tired and past its best as I was feeling.
‘But