Читать книгу Probably the Best Kiss in the World - Pernille Hughes - Страница 10

Jen’s finely-tuned nose was almost exploding with all the scents. Re:Love, Alice and Max’s florist-cum-salvage shop was a riot of blooms and a joyful assault on her senses. Jen often dropped in after work for a chat, today however it was an emergency. The shop was situated at the end of The Arches, adjacent to the arch Jen’s dad had worked in. Alice and her girlfriend Max had made the most of the exposed brick walls and concrete floor with Max showcasing select pieces around the shop – fireplaces, old furniture and some up-cycled items – while Alice’s flowers brought a sea of colour to the space.

“They’ll let you buy in?” Alice asked, incredulous. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, the pair of them are nutters.” She sat on the front desk, legs swinging as she chomped on a stack of chocolate digestives. She wore her staple of a homemade tea-dress, bobby socks and saddle shoes, which she only ever changed up by adding a cardy and Doc Martens with opaque tights in the winter. Other than the fabrics, Alice’s sole variables were her bright lipsticks and her hair styles, which ranged widely from a fully-spherical afro, to two Bjork sprouts when it was hot. Opposite, Jen was taking the opportunity to lie down along the length of an old church pew.

“I know,” Jen groaned, unsure how she had managed to get to this stage in her life. Four days ago she was happily tapping her beer, minding her own business and here she was being press-ganged into being part of someone else’s. And she hadn’t told Alice about the engagement yet. It didn’t quite seem like the right time, not when she’d come storming in, mouthing off about Ava’s offer-slash-decree. It felt like one of those double-edged honours dictators bestowed on people which invariably lead to a difficult demise. “It’s bad enough with the inco pads, but crocheted tampons? I keep asking myself if this is what I got a degree for?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t,” Alice agreed. She’d always been a good ear for Jen, but normally for Jen letting off steam about Lydia’s teenage antics. As the eldest of four girls Alice understood. “And good of them to decide how you want to spend your savings.”

“Which is ridiculous, because there are none. The house is paid for, sure, and there’s this place, but the rents are supposed to fund Lydia’s future prosthetics, not to mention a pension for her.” Jen felt her pulse beginning to race. This was the stuff of her 4 a.m. worries.

“Lydia’s got her head screwed on. She’ll be fine in her job, and she’ll get her own pension.”

“But what if she doesn’t?” Jen whispered, “what if the leg holds her back? People can be so mean and judgey and dismissive.”

“Jen? Stop. There isn’t much to hold Lyds back. Trust me. You’re too close to see it, but she’ll go a long way.” Jen wished she could be so sure. Alice didn’t see the worst days, when things became too much and Lydia retreated to her bed. Her tenacity was impressive, but she was still only human, not a superhero. Not that Lydia remembered this either sometimes; she would make all sorts of mad decisions if Jen didn’t keep a rein on her. She’d even mentioned skydiving some months ago, but Jen had put the kibosh on that. Some things were way too dangerous. “Besides, missy,” Alice fixed her with a beady eye, “haven’t you got something of your own to be worrying about?”

Jen sighed. “The bloody tampons. Ugh. No pun intended.”

“Gross,” Alice said with a grimace. “But no, something of a more personal nature that should have been the thing you came to tell me about, maybe yesterday?”

Jen looked at her blankly, until Alice picked up a posy from the counter and waved it at her.

Oh.

“How do you know about that?”

“That? Your impending nuptials? Because Robert paid for a skywriter and told the whole town.” Alice looked at her po-faced.

“What?! Really?” She hadn’t seen it. Oh crap.

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” guffawed Alice. “Could you see Robert doing that?” Fair point. “Lyds texted me Sunday night, ranting. Believes you’re making a mahoosive mistake.”

“She may have shared that sentiment with me. I think she’s worried about me leaving her.”

“Yeah, no.” Alice seemed sure of this, but then she didn’t live with Lydia. “She’s definitely convinced there’s someone better suited out there for you.”

“She’s been watching too many rom-coms, Alice,” Jen said with a sigh. “She’s a sucker for those.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Sorry,” said Jen, “I forgot you’re an enabler.” Alice and Lydia regularly saw the chick-flicks together because Jen refused. “They’re fun – fluffy fun – but they aren’t real, Alice. Life doesn’t work like that. They give people unrealistic ideas. Either the set-up is ridiculous, or when the characters do get together, the relationship will never sustain itself. All film romance is idealistic and improbable.”

“You really think that?” Alice looked appalled, her current digestive frozen halfway to her face.

“Sure,” said Jen, looking back to the ceiling, totally clear on this. “It’s a life partnership. You have to think rationally and long term, you have to make compromises and be practical, and I don’t think meeting on the Titanic or during an impossible mission is a sound basis for that. Those intense scenarios make people overlook the realities and the enormous flashing warning signs that their relationship is doomed.”

Jen stopped to look back at Alice, who was still looking at her aghast.

“That’s your honest belief?” Her tone was a blend of dismay and moral outrage.

“Deffo,” Jen said, nodding along with her own argument. “I mean, I like a good Mills & Boon now and again – who doesn’t? – but you know it’s as much fantasy as Game of Thrones or Star Wars. I just think, because they’re set in real life, people confuse fantasy with reality.”

“Jen!” Alice was fuming. “I should wash your mouth out with soap. This is a haven of romance and dreams. Shame on you. I’m going to fill this space with old romance novels to ward off your bad vibes.” Alice was small but she was feisty and right now Jen was aware she’d riled her, but she stuck to her guns.

“Doesn’t make it less true.” Jen’s mind was set.

“But what does that say about you and Robert then? Why are you apparently engaged?” Alice thought she’d nailed the flaw in Jen’s argument here, but Jen was ready for her.

“Because we’re going to be a sound partnership. That’s what Lydia can’t get her head around. We’re very compatible, like a good business partnership. I’ve known him since my teens and we’ve had a steady six years to see that we meander along at the same pace in the same direction, which in business is a good plan. Lydia seems to think that’s wrong, that we should be bouncing off each other with mad sparks flying. Where’s the harmony in that? Equally, basing a lifetime on someone you met for a mad moment, be it in a pub, on holiday or in a high-octane, life or death scenario, well that’s a madness. Lydia just isn’t old enough to see it.”

“Lydia is twenty-two, Jen, you forget that sometimes.”

“Lyds is a special case, Alice. The leg makes it different.” People didn’t always get this, but Jen knew better.

“Only in your eyes.”

“Well, I know her best. That’s my job.” Jen’s voice had become harder. She bristled when she perceived anyone criticising her parenting. She’d done okay, all things considered.

Alice knew to back off. “Well, coming back to your surprise wedding, Lydia thinks we need to stage an intervention.”

Jen pulled herself up to sitting, so Alice could see she was clearly of sound mind.

“I do not need intervening.”

Alice gave her a long hard stare. “If you say so.” Jen didn’t get the feeling Alice was convinced. That was rom-com fans for you. “Not everyone’s like Danny, Jen,” Alice said, gently.

Danny. There was the most humiliating event of Jen’s life to date and one which generally lived under a universally accepted seal of Don’t Go There. She, Alice and Max had taken a week’s holiday to Ibiza right after her finals, where she’d fallen for fellow traveller Danny, who’d immediately whisked her off her feet, straight from the transfer bus. They’d even had a meet-cute where she’d mistakenly tried to walk off with his matching suitcase, until he twirled a pair of her knickers at her. He came from her uni town and obviously this had been a cosmic sign to forgo all sightseeing and live in his bed for the week. He was a DJ, booked solid around the Balearic clubs for the following week apparently, he’d even waved his Facebook page past her, giving her a quick glimpse of him at various decks, sweaty in the strobe lights, fans’ hands stretching for him in the edges of the numerous grainy shots.

He said he’d never felt this way about anyone before and lulled by the warmth and the sun and the sex, she’d believed him. And yet, once home, her texts and WhatsApps went unanswered. She’d tried to call him, but the number went nowhere. She took a closer look at the Facebook page, a pretty poor marketing job if she was being professionally critical, but also fake when she took a closer squiz at the DJs who, with the benefit of daylight, weren’t quite the same man in each pic. Only then did it dawn on her she’d been duped. The realisation that he’d tapped a false number into her phone was a breath-taking blow.

“You weren’t to know, Jen. We all thought he was for real,” Alice said, seeing Jen running through it all. But Jen was less lenient with herself, because she’d been a clichéd idiot, falling for a holiday fling and believing his invented persona. She was one of those girls who fell for a “shark trainer” only to find out he was a call centre operative from Croydon.

That blow had only been the starter course however. On top of feeling so foolish at the time, all hell had then come at her. While the news of a job in a brewery had briefly buoyed her, the loss of her family had taken her far, far deeper into the pit of grief shortly after. She might have properly dealt with the feelings of being ghosted, had she not had ghosts of her own and saving a sister to contend with. She remembered the humiliation and hurt later, but by then pain was a relative thing and instead it steeled her against getting carried away ever again. Some people just didn’t turn out to be who you thought they were. It wasn’t a mistake she’d make again.

Alice tactfully changed the subject. “How’s your list coming then?” she asked.

“What list?”

“Ha! Don’t give me that, Attison,” Alice’s eyes narrowed at Jen’s deceitful attempt.

“There’s no way you haven’t started a project list for this. What’s the app called?”

Dammit they knew her too well.

“ChAPPel,” she mumbled, faintly annoyed at being so predictable.

“Show me.” Alice did a karate kid “come hither” hand gesture.

“It’s a surprise,” Jen said, her blush adding a useful, if fake, bashfulness to her bride’s plans.

“Hmmm.” Alice let her off. “There’s your get-out with the sister-in-laws. Tell them you can’t buy in as you’re throwing all your savings at this wedding.” Ooh now there was an idea. “And don’t worry, you can put ‘mates rates’ next to my name for the flowers on your app list there.”

Jen made a grand show of gratefully doing exactly that, keeping the screen close to her chest – supposedly to keep her “surprises” to herself, but really so Alice couldn’t see there wasn’t a single other item listed.