Читать книгу It's Now Or Never - Jill Steeples - Страница 17

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.

‘Help yourself to tea or coffee in the kitchen. It’s through there,’ he pointed helpfully. ‘There’s cereal in the cupboard or some bread in the tin if you want to make some toast.’ He disappeared for a few moments before poking his head round the door again, only thankfully this time he was fully dressed. ‘My phone’s not over there is it?’

I gave a cursory glance over the bedside cabinet. A radio/alarm clock, a pair of engraved cufflinks, a half dozen assorted coins but, more insistently, a pair of abandoned silver teardrop earrings that were flashing at me like a pair of Belisha beacons. I felt a wave of nausea. My gaze got stuck on those damn things until I realised Alex was waiting for an answer.

‘Yep, it’s here,’ I said, leaning over and grabbing it for him.

‘Cheers.’ He came and perched on the edge of the bed and stroked his thumb across my cheek, taking the phone from me. ‘I had a really great time yesterday, Jen. The wedding was fab, but sharing the day with you, getting to know you made it all the more special.’

I smiled, feeling vulnerable, naked under his bed covers while he was fully dressed. I resisted the urge to reach up and throw my arms around his neck, pulling him back into bed but I sensed a subtle shift in the atmosphere from last night. It was obvious he wanted to get away as quickly as possible.

‘I’ve got your number so I’ll give you a call. We can do it again, go out for dinner or something?’

I nodded, pulling the duvet up higher around my body.

‘Or you give me a call, yeah?’ he added.

‘Yes, sure. We’ll get something sorted,’ I said, breezily. Now I remembered why I’d never had a one-night stand before. Everything that seemed so romantic and magical last night now only appeared sordid and awkward. Alex was going through the motions, saying what he thought was the socially acceptable thing to say in these situations, something he’d probably had a lot of practice at in the past.

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 don’t you live…’ Alex screwed up his face, his brow furrowing. He pointed in the opposite direction to the way I was walking.

‘Yes, but I thought I’d take the scenic route,’ I said laughing, trying not to sound like a mad woman. ‘I needed a bit of exercise after yesterday.’

‘Look Jen,’ he said, laying his hand on my arm and looking as though he might have got the assessment of my character very wrong. ‘I’m sorry for not inviting you along to the exhibition, it just didn’t occur to me. You’re welcome to come in for a glass of wine now though if you’d like to.’

‘Ah, thanks, but no. I’m late as it is,’ I said, glancing at my watch. ‘Another pressing engagement beckons. I’ll just be on way.’

‘Great,’ said Alex, looking worried. ‘Good to see you again. And so soon too.’

‘Yep. Bye!’

I hurried off, my cheeks stinging an unbecoming beetroot colour, I felt sure. So now Alex would think I was a proper weirdo, stalking him out after only seeing him a couple of hours earlier. What an idiot. I sighed, determined not to look back at the shop or the events of the last twenty-four hours. None of it mattered any more. It would be fine. I would just have to spend the rest of my life avoiding Alex Fellows.