Croissants and Jam (19 page)

    ‘He just likes to do things properly,’ I say defending him.

    ‘Did he buy you that stupid converter thing?’ he asks with disdain.

Oh for goodness sake.

    ‘It is not stupid, in fact…’

    ‘Oh come on, either you are spending the money or you’re not. What is the point of converting it, either you can afford it or you can’t?’

Oh really, that is the limit.

    ‘Ha, you can talk. In the past couple of days you have spent so much money I dread to think what your credit card bill looks like. The Lemon alone was an extravagance, and the wine, I mean that was just ridiculous. You are a fine one to talk… and the house in France,’ I snarl, feeling very angry but not sure why.

    ‘For your information, not that it is your business, I never buy anything I can’t afford, and I would not hire a string quartet if my fiancée did not want one. I would hope to start married life making her happy. Anyway, I am going to take a dip in the river down there and freshen up.’

For a moment I wonder if I have really hurt his feelings. I have never heard him so harsh before. He leans over me. My skin seems to come alive and my heart thumps. His finger gently touches my lips.

    ‘I expect you not to peep.’

    ‘As if I could be bothered,’ I say biting my lip, knowing damn well I certainly would be bothered and am already wishing I had a pair of binoculars. Minutes later I am straining to see him in the river at the bottom of the field, but of course, it is impossible and I do not have the courage to go any nearer. I look curiously at his hand luggage. Was he serious about not buying anything he could not afford? That would mean that he could afford the house in France and its renovation. Oh bloody hell, what am I doing even wondering about him? I pour more whisky into my cup and throw it back quickly and let out a shudder. Shit, the stuff is strong. Gingerly I pull the leather bag towards me and gently push my hand in, but guilt makes me quickly pull it out again. Damn it. Spotting the Nikon camera, I quickly grab it and focus the telephoto lens onto the river and gasp when I see him floating on his back. With shaking hands I lower the camera and knock back the remainder of my drink and pour more. I feel more courageous and push my hand back in his bag and this time I manage to remove a bulging blue folder. I quickly focus the camera again, sigh at his naked body and then open the folder. For a moment I cannot make out what the papers are and then I realise they are plans for a house. There are numerous diagrams which I push to one side. I go through the rest of the papers quickly and feel disappointment when I realise he is a builder just like I thought. I replace the folder and grab the camera again and check that he is still by the river. He is standing up now and I gasp at the sight of his bum. I strain to get a better look, but I am already slightly tipsy and everything seems blurry. Carefully, I focus in further and hold my breath. Jesus, what am I doing, in a matter of days I will be marrying Simon. For God’s sake get a grip. Distracted by a buzzing, I turn to see a bumblebee the size of a golf ball. I jolt back, trying not to spill the whisky I am holding in my left hand. Balancing Christian’s camera in my right, I shoo the beast away from my face while shaking my head to keep the insect out of my hair. There is a click from the camera and shit, shit, I have taken a photo of Christian’s backside. I dive back down onto the blanket and peer to see if he is looking back at me but without the bloody camera I can’t see bugger all. I replace the lens cap and take a deep breath. Hastily I wash my face and underarms with the wet wipes I had bought and release my hair from the scrunch. He returns with his hair wet and his face slightly pink. I feel my legs go weak. He puts on a short-sleeved top and flops down on to the blanket.

    ‘You peeped,’ he says, taking me by surprise. I feel my face flush. He leans across me for the whisky bottle and his arm brushes my breast and I gasp.

    ‘Blimey, steady on Bels, you’ve had almost half a bottle.’

I shrug innocently.

    ‘Is he older than you or younger?’ he asks, offering me a paprika-flavoured crisp.

    ‘Will you stop offering me bloody food, I never normally eat this much and, yes, he is older than me,’ I reply pushing his hand away.

    ‘You’re not fat, you worry too much. Does he tell you you’re fat then? I bet he wouldn’t play twister like we did last night.’

I jump up. This is too much. I really cannot take much more. I have that horrid anxious feeling that you get when you to go to the dentist, that feeling when you are sitting in the waiting room and you hear the sound of the drill. Christ, this is terrible. I am dreading my wedding just like I dread a visit to the dentist. This is awful.

    ‘God, I can’t stand this, I am so nervous.’ I take a deep breath.

    ‘Here,’ he pours more whisky into my cup. ‘Why don’t you take those Silent Life things?’

    ‘Quiet Life,’ I correct, taking the drink.

    ‘Yes, those and that rescue stuff.’

I stare at him.

    ‘What are you trying to do to me?’

He laughs.

    ‘Nothing, just trying to calm you down. You seem to be getting a bit tense. You usually love taking those tranquilliser things,’ he says calmly.

I exhale loudly.

    ‘They are not a tranquilliser, they are just herbal.’

He nods.

    ‘Oh, I see. That makes them safe does it?’

    ‘They calm me down,’ I snap angrily.

    ‘So they are a tranquilliser?’ he insists.

    ‘Oh shut up will you.’

He shrugs as I grab the whisky bottle.

    ‘Okay, just thinking of you. I suppose
he
approves of you taking drugs does he?’

I sigh heavily and knock back a gulp of the whisky.

    ‘So, what kind of builder are you?’ I ask, falling back onto the blanket, feeling a bit heady and grabbing a handful of crisps.

    ‘You don’t want to discuss your drug habit I see.’ He is wagging a finger at me.

    ‘Anyway, for your information I am not a builder. I design houses and have them built. I designed Robin’s house for example. I designed the set for Olivia’s big photo shoot for
Vogue
last year. Would you like a list of my clients so you can be absolutely certain that I really could afford that wine we just bought?’

I stare wide-eyed at him. He pulls the folder from his bag.

    ‘This is the house I have designed for the footballer Bryan Marshall.’

I stare at the plans. Bryan Marshall? Oh holy fuck. He’s only a bloody upper-class architect. He’s only sodding rich. He’s only successful and I’m only sodding speechless and staring at him with my mouth open.

    ‘I am going to check on his house while I am in Rome. You could come and see it but I expect you will be busy honeymooning. Where has he decided to have the honeymoon by the way?’

I force myself to ignore his sarcasm and glance at the plans. Even if I don’t know much about houses it is not hard to see that this will be a beautiful one. Oh my God, how could I have been so stupid? I pull a face.

    ‘I thought you were…’ I begin.

He nods knowingly and sucks in his breath.

    ‘Can’t do that for less than five hundred mate, and to be honest you might need a new guttering, but I will keep the price as low as I can. I should be able to do it for you next week providing I’ve got the materials. You really thought I was one of them. What a cheek.’

I nod shamefaced.

    ‘Literally, with your bum cheeks on show,’ I laugh.

He pushes me playfully onto my back and forces a crisp into my mouth.

    ‘Ve vill make you fat for your vedding.’

The word wedding reminds me again of why I am going to Rome and I jump up and pour more whisky.

    ‘You need more food,’ he offers, getting up.

I glance at my phone and, to my relief see that I have no signal still. I seriously wonder if I can call the wedding off. Visions of Alex going into premature labour from the shock make me cringe, and then of course, my mother would have a fit and mourn my spinsterhood. Dad would probably take it with a pinch of salt and Kaz would just swallow more Valium than usual. Then, there is Simon and his parents. I imagine the three of them already want to kill me anyway, so I couldn’t make things much worse could I? But there is the new flat and my things and oh, it is all so complicated. And of course by the time I get home I will be one half of a joint bank account and a joint mortgage and oh God, nightmare of nightmares, I now have a Tesco Clubcard as part of our joint grocery shopping plan. Then to make things worse there is Christian, and I have no idea how he feels about me. One minute I feel convinced he is not in the least bit interested in me and the next he is deliberately brushing my breast with his hand. Buggety bugger what am I to do? I take the hand he offers and allow him to pull me up. He has produced apples, olives a slab of cheese and some salami from his secret stash.

He pours more whisky into our cups and smiles. I take a sip and feel the warmth of the liquid run down my throat and hit my stomach.

    ‘So, what actually is the situation with you and Claudine then?’ I ask boldly, thinking I might as well find out just how available he is just in case. In case of what, I am not too sure.

    ‘Whoa, Claudine, what can I tell you?’

He breaks off a piece of cheese and looks thoughtful. I bite into an apple and wait.

    ‘It was our anniversary a week ago and I didn’t completely forget. I had arranged dinner, but I got waylaid by a client and it didn’t happen. So she went and bought herself a very expensive bracelet, and I mean expensive, with my credit card. It’s my fault for giving her a credit card in the first place. It’s the second time she has done something like that when she has not got what she wanted…’ He shrugs and gives a weak smile.

I attempt not to look shocked but fail miserably. His smile widens.

    ‘She will probably have bought up half of Rome by the time I arrive.’

I exhale loudly.

    ‘Can’t you do something?’ I say stupidly.

He holds out a piece of cheese and I take it as if in a dream. Jesus Christ, is there anything else I can eat while I am at it? He throws an olive in the air and leans forward to catch it in his open mouth. I pull a face in disgust.

    ‘I have, and she is probably ready to kill me. I cancelled the credit card the day after she checked into an expensive hotel in Rome. I imagine they have thrown her out by now, and my name is most likely mud. So I think the wedding will be off, mine that is, not yours, unless you are calling yours off too?’

I choke on a piece of apple and splutter. Why did he say that? Does he want me to? He hands me the whisky and I take a large gulp which only makes me choke more and break into a sneezing fit. I struggle to focus through my watery eyes and blow my nose frantically, only to sneeze again.

    ‘Would you like a carrier bag?’ he offers, grinning.

What a bastard. I wipe my face with a wet wipe and fall onto the blanket and realise I am feeling quite drunk, and it dawns on me that he is deliberately plying me with whisky. Oh my God, I must hold onto my wits and not let anything happen.

    ‘I think you should hire a karaoke machine for your wedding and do a turn yourself. You’re brilliant at karaoke,’ he says flopping beside me.

I squint at him. Oh this is terrible. I should not be enjoying my time with him. I take another sip of my drink.

    ‘You said I was terrible,’ I remind him.

    ‘Did I? Oh, maybe you were then.’

I giggle, although I am not sure what is funny. We finish the cheese and olives and share the last of his chocolate.

    ‘So we won’t see each other again will we. The taxi will take us to Rome and then we will say goodbye, forever,’ he says looking straight at me. Of course, he is right. This is the last time I will see the Lemon, the last time I will rummage through the back seat for a bag of crisps, the very last time I will see his smiling handsome face. The last time I will hear his mocking voice. This is terrible. Now, he fits Kaz’s essential credential check list, responsible, reliable, and obviously rich and now it seems, probably eligible and he is indeed handsome. Oh sod a dog, why now? Oh God, am I leaning towards him? Pull back Bels, you are drunk. His face is suddenly very close and his eyes are closed. Oh God, pull back Bels. But I don’t and his lips lightly touch mine before he pushes me back.

    ‘Your phone is ringing, again,’ he says quietly. ‘It’s good at that.’

I turn too quickly and my head spins. He hands me the phone and walks away. Shit and double shit, it is Simon. With trembling hands I answer it.

    ‘Hi baby, are you all right? ‘

Oh God, he sounds so loving. I do love him, I do love him, I repeat in my head. I have known him for seven months, God, it seems such a long time now. I have known Christian for two days. I cannot possibly really know Christian at all. Guilt consumes me.

    ‘Yes, yes,’ I reply stupidly.

Obviously he is used to me sounding stupid for he makes no comment on my silly reply.

    ‘Good, I just wanted to say that I hope you get here for dinner and that I didn’t hire that quartet. I know you wanted a jazz band and I have found a good one and provisionally booked it. You can see what you think of them when you get here. I just miss you and so much want to see you.’

Buggety bugger, talk about great timing. I avoid looking at Christian.

    ‘That is great and I really will try and make it for dinner.’

    ‘Text when you are near and I will be waiting in the lounge.’

I smooth down my dress and pull my cardigan around me. I barely hear what Simon is saying as I am watching Christian fold away the blanket. At one point he waves to me and I wonder what he is thinking. I assure Simon that I will be with him very soon and hang up. I sway unsteadily towards the lake and when I am out of sight quickly change into the skirt and top. Please, please Christian, I find myself praying. If you really feel anything for me, say so. Just give me a sign that you would like to see me again, that you really wished I wouldn’t go ahead with my wedding. I am so confused. Help me make some kind of sensible decision. I slowly walk towards the Lemon where he is still packing things away. The sun is in my eyes and I cannot see his face clearly but I see he is pointing down the road.