Plus, coming from a military family that moved from house to house, country to country, Floz found it hard to trust and keep friends, having grown accustomed early on to being ripped away from
them. But here at Blackberry Court, Juliet felt like the first friend in her life who would be a constant – and as such, her opinion mattered.
‘That’s lovely,’ said Floz, taking a long sip and trying not to think of what Nick’s reaction would be to her email, and if he would reply. Her emotions were so raw, it
was as if the top layer of her skin had been ripped right away, and it hurt for even breath to brush past.
‘I’ve got something that will cheer you up a bit,’ said Juliet. ‘I had a text from Guy. He’s cooking Sunday lunch at Mum’s for us – his flat is far too
poky.
Steve
will be there as well, alas.’ Again she huffed on that name.
‘Lovely,’ said Floz, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Food was the last thing on her mind. And the re-emergence of Nick Vermeer had driven all thoughts of
the hunky, Heathcliff-like Guy Miller from her head.
She began to feign tiredness early on so she could make a legitimate break for her computer and write another email. It had started to play on her mind that the one she’d written was
pitched wrong. Juliet had plans of her own too, and bade Floz goodnight.
Dearest Nick
I knew as soon as I hit that send button this afternoon that I’d be reprimanding myself all day – have I said
too much, have I said enough, have I said the right thing?
I pray I read your email wrong and there is more hope than you can see. And if it makes it easier for you to contact me again, do. Likewise if it
doesn’t – don’t. I understand.
I just wanted to say that my affection for and fascination with you stays with me. Despite the fact that we didn’t meet, I feel I know you so well. You
were always a hard act to follow. No one even came close, to be honest.
I hope your sisters and your family are giving you comfort and love – I’m sure they are. And I am, of course, just at the end of an email or a
phone if there is anything that I can do for you.
Love, Cherrylips xxx
Floz only hoped that the walls were thick enough in the flat for Juliet not to hear her sobbing. Or her heart breaking, because she was sure she had
just felt it crack loudly within her chest.
Juliet logged straight onto
singlebods.com
when Floz turned in. She thought she might have a trawl through the site and see if there was anyone living within a ten-mile
radius who didn’t have two heads.
There were a few messages waiting for her in her ‘contact centre’. The first was succinct:
Life is to short, so let’s do it alnight
. And accompanying this was the
topless profile pic of a grubby-looking man with a face like a pickled, deformed walnut. Juliet grimaced and blocked him from contacting her again. She felt as if she needed a shower simply from
looking at his photo. The second was from the sci-fi fan who liked romantic walks and sofa-snogging.
So, did you liked what you saw when you checked me out then I have a supreme package
(Juliet doubted that)
so I can see whose viewed me, so I can return the favuor and say hello to
them and if I like what I see I can say would you like to come out for a coffee with me we can meet somewere pubic
(she hoped he meant public)
and see were we go from there what about it
then hon?
Apart from the fact that he had never heard of a full-stop, she said to the screen: ‘Thanks but no thanks.’ She had no intention of dignifying it with a written reply.
The third email was from Ralph.
Hi, just wondered if you were around for a natter. If so, I’ll probably be on my computer working this evening so let’s hook up on MSN? Here’s my email . . .
It was either a crime documentary about the Great Train Robbers on the TV or an evening forging a link with a potential lover. Juliet typed in her request to hook up with Ralph on the net. Two
hours later, after a very pleasant virtual chat, she found herself looking forward to dinner with him the following evening.
Floz awoke late the next morning and could tell she must have been crying in her sleep because her cheek and the pillow beneath it were wet. It was a bitter-sweet experience
for the lines of communication between Nick and herself to be open again. As she typed her next email to him, her mind tried to fill in the blanks of the last eighteen months: what he had suffered.
The timing was so tragic. Floz thought that if she had been so poorly, she would have wanted to reach out instead, not pull back. But wouldn’t that have been selfish and grasping of her
– to take a relationship one step further when it had no future? She didn’t know. To do what Nick had done required strength that she obviously didn’t have. All she did know was
that she was grateful Nick had come back into her life and that she doubted she would get any rest until he left it again – for the final time.
Juliet was so excited about the prospect of a real live date that she almost forgot to swoon when Piers Winstanley-Black sauntered into the office. Coco rang from his Perfume
Palace just before the clock touched 9 a.m., as was his usual habit.
‘Well, how did it go? I’ve been dying for you to ring me. You must have at least five missed calls from me,’ said Juliet excitedly.
‘I’ve only just got in!’ said Coco. ‘I’ve been up all night talking!’
‘Only talking?’
‘Well, and snogging a bit,’ said Coco with a blush in his voice.
‘Yuk, two men snogging – I’m going to be sick.’
‘Oy, cheeky. And he paid for me.’
‘What – you charged him to snog you?’ teased Juliet.
‘Silly. I mean he paid for everything. Wouldn’t let me put my hand in my wallet at all. There’s a first, I can tell you,’ tutted Coco.
‘Ooh, that’s impressive,’ said Juliet, who had never been out on a date with anyone as generous.
‘He. Is. Gorgeous. I’m in love.’
‘Oh God, here we go again,’ said Juliet. ‘Anyway, you’re not the only one with a date. I’ve got one as well. Tonight. I’m going shopping at lunchtime if you
want to meet me and help me pick a new frock.’
‘I can’t,’ said Coco. ‘I’ve got a delivery coming from the warehouse. I just hope they remember to put that new Beckham perfume in the consignment. I’ll go
spare if they don’t. Anyway, I digress – who’s your date with then?’
‘Ralph, forty, own house, own printing business and own everything else. Very nice-looking too.’
‘Where are you meeting?’
‘He’s cooking me dinner at his.’
‘Oh Ju—’
Juliet had anticipated this and cut him off. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I leave a trail in case he’s a serial killer. I’ll give you his full name and address and
ring you and Floz when I arrive.’
‘Do you have it now? I have a pen and paper handy.’
‘Okay, hang on.’ Juliet got her diary out of her handbag. ‘His name is Ralph Green and his address is ten, Riffington Place.’
‘Ten, Riffington Place . . . why does that ring a bell?’ mused Coco, scribbling it down.
‘Haven’t a clue, but he’s in the directory because I checked. If that makes you feel any better.’
‘This is so not sensible, going to someone’s house, you know,’ said Coco, his voice weighted with concern. ‘There you are telling me to meet a date somewhere safe and
then you go and walk into a spider’s parlour like a stupid fly.’
‘Yes, but I’m a damn big fly who you wouldn’t mess with. Plus I’ve got a good vibe about him. And it was Ralph who said that I should make sure a good friend knew where
I’m going.’
‘Well, okay then. But we’ll have a code and if you’re in any trouble at all when I ring to check on you, say the word . . .’ He thought hard. ‘Ripper.’
‘That’s going to be a bit obvious, isn’t it?’ laughed Juliet. ‘I’ll say “fab”, okay?’
‘I’m not happy, Ju.’
‘Bugger off, you big fairy. I’ll be fine.’
Juliet couldn’t wait until 7 p.m. She took a long lunch-hour and hit the shops because she was going to buy something clingy and gorgeous for tonight. Sex on a first – blind –
date wouldn’t be on the cards, but she and Ralph might get carried away and go a little down the foreplay path. Really it was a bit wanton of her going to his house, but she had no doubt that
he was a decent guy (she just hoped he wasn’t
too
decent). Plus Ralph had told her to make sure her friends knew exactly where she was. Or rather he had ‘written’ that
because they hadn’t actually spoken other than on MSN. But how could his voice be anything other than sultry, after looking at that profile picture?
She bought a short satiny shift dress in dark purple and colour-matching wedge shoes in suede. She rang Floz when she got back to the office to tell her about the date, as Floz had still –
unusually for her – been asleep when Juliet left for work.
‘Floz, I’ll be home at five-thirty on the dot and I need some serious time in the bathroom, so if you were thinking of having a bath, will you do me a favour and not?’
‘Of course,’ said Floz. ‘I’ll make sure the decks are clear for you. What’s he like? Where did you meet him? And where is he taking you?’
‘I found him on Singlebods,’ said Juliet, anticipating what would come next when she told Floz that she was going to dinner at his house. ‘And yes, I’ll be careful, and
yes, I’ll give you his address and phone number and I promise I won’t get murdered.’
‘Okay,’ said Floz, trying to sound a little bit more cheerful and positive than she felt. Because Juliet was at least doing the right thing in moving a cyber-relationship into real
life as soon as humanly possible. Cyber-relationships had the potential to wound just as much as real-life ones. Maybe more so because cyber-partners were tailor-made for each other, their faults
smoothed out by imaginations hell-bent on wanting to create the perfect being.
Coco rang Juliet mid-afternoon. He wasn’t in the best of moods.
‘Gideon hasn’t rung me.’
‘It’s only half-past two,’ chided Juliet. ‘Be patient.’
‘He said he would ring me and he hasn’t. I can’t understand it – we had a lovely night.’ Coco was almost in tears.
‘Chill, my love,’ said Juliet kindly. ‘He might be busy or driving. Go and do some work and put him out of your mind.’
‘Okay,’ said Coco, ringing off.
‘Was that Raymond on the phone again?’ laughed Daphne, delivering a cup of coffee to Juliet’s desk. She had lived on the same street as Coco’s family for thirty years and
was privy to his real name. She, like Grainne and Perry, had never been able to comfortably think of him as Coco.
‘Yep,’ said Juliet. ‘He’s in a flap. He had a date and the guy hasn’t phoned him yet.’
‘Patience never was his best virtue,’ nodded Daphne. ‘Harry didn’t contact me for two weeks after our first date. Mind you, he soon bucked up his ideas when he found out
that another lad had taken me dancing. He moved like a bloody express train then.’
‘How long have you been married now, Daphne?’ asked Amanda, taking off her typing headset and joining in the coffee break.
‘Twenty-nine years. Pearl celebration on November the twelfth. We’re having a do at our Linda’s house and you’re both invited. She’s had a party room extension
built,’ Daphne added proudly.
‘Ooh lovely,’ squealed Amanda. ‘What made you get married in November though? Wasn’t it freezing?’
Daphne shook her head. ‘It was the most beautiful late-autumn day. The leaves were blowing in the air like confetti and the sun was like a big scoop of Cream of Cornish. I’ve always
thought autumn was the loveliest season.’
‘I suppose it is,’ Juliet agreed. She’d never considered how pretty an autumn wedding could be.
Juliet’s office phone rang again and interrupted Daphne’s trip down a leafy Memory Lane.
‘Gideon still hasn’t rung,’ wailed Coco. ‘Why? What’s wrong with me? Should I ring him?’
Juliet sighed. She had
sooo
missed Coco’s relationship dramatics. Not.
‘We got on so well.’ There was a tidal wave of sobs building in Coco’s voice. ‘He can’t be another one who just buggers off without warning, can he?’
Juliet bit her tongue because had she said what was on her mind, Coco would have probably been suicidal.
‘Darling, if you ring, you’ll look intense. You’re worth chasing, so let him chase you. You shouldn’t have to remind him of your presence because if you’re not on
his mind, then he’s no good for you.’
‘But—’
‘Just be patient. If he wants to ring you, he will. If he doesn’t want to ring you, then he’s not the man for you.’
‘Bastard!’ snapped Coco. ‘I’m so cross I could spit.’
‘Then go spit,’ laughed Juliet gently. ‘And keep the faith because someone out there will not let you down.’
As she said the words to Coco, she hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt. Since the betrayal of Hattie and Roger, Juliet had begun to wonder more and more if there was anyone out there
to whom she would be able to trust her heart.
Coco rang Juliet half an hour later to say that even if Gideon did ring now, he could stuff off as he had erased his mobile number from his phone. He rang again just as Juliet
was pushing the door open to her flat to say that Gideon had been in touch and explained that he’d been out with a customer all day. Coco was in raptures and Gideon was once again added to
his contact list.
‘Oh God, it just does not get any easier, this courtship lark,’ groaned Juliet, plonking herself next to Floz on the sofa for five minutes before she began the great
getting-ready-for-a-date ceremony. ‘Coco has been doing my head in all day.’ And she went on to explain why Coco had his Calvins in such a twist.
‘Poor Coco,’ said Floz. ‘It’s hard opening yourself up and becoming all vulnerable again.’
Juliet sniffed. ‘Personally, I don’t get the problem. If you have a good time but your date doesn’t contact you the next day, they’re obviously not interested enough to
see you again – simple. If you’re worth chasing, they chase.’ She raised her hands to gesture how stupidly obvious it was.