She was reading another post that promised to zap her belly fat in five days when the phone started ringing. Lizzy picked it up, one eye still on the screen. The ‘after’ picture was so doctored the woman’s belly button was headbutting her nipples.
‘Hello …’
Where am I?
‘Er, hello, Haven.’
‘Ken Dennings here!’
‘Ken! How are you?’
‘Pretty good, pretty good! I’ve had some more thoughts on changing the name. I still think we can make constipation sound a bit more
fun
, Lizzy.’
It had become like a little game between them. ‘Go on then,’ she said.
‘Bum and Dad?’
‘It’s inventive, Ken, I’ll give you that.’
‘How about this then: A Sense of Release. Do you get it? It’s a play on “a sense of relief”, combines the two elements.’
‘You’re nearly there, Ken. Keep ’em coming.’
Lizzy put the phone down and looked at the card on her desk. After they’d finally made it back from Dorset on Sunday evening Lizzy had sent Cassandra a thank-you note for their impromptu stay. She hadn’t expected a reply back, but this morning a beautifully hand-painted card had arrived in the post. She re-read the message for the umpteenth time.
Dear Lizzy
It was so lovely to meet you and your friends. Thank you for trying to talk to Elliot. I’m still desperately worried about him. I know it’s a big ask, but could you try to keep an eye on him? I’m sure you must run around in the same circles in London. It would really help put my mind at rest.
Do come and visit me any time you like.
Best wishes,
Cassie Beeston
She’d added her email address, asking Lizzy to keep in touch.
Lizzy groaned inwardly. How was she meant to keep an eye on someone who she barely knew and who’d already told her in no uncertain terms he didn’t want her help? As much as she felt for his mother, Lizzy wasn’t the patron saint of the dumped and heartbroken. Elliot Anderson was not her problem.
Two days later something unexpected happened. Lizzy got an email from the man himself. It was short and to the point.
If it’s not too late, I’d like to take you up on your offer. I’ll come to you. E.
Lizzy was about to send a non-committal reply with a link to the Samaritans when Cassandra’s face flashed into her mind.
I know it’s a big ask, but could you try to keep an eye on him? It would really help put my mind at rest.
‘This better earn me brownie points in heaven,’ she muttered and pressed ‘reply’.
That’s fine. When do you want to meet up?
Two hours went past. Lizzy was starting to think Elliot had had second thoughts when she got a reply.
Tomorrow? I’ve got a meeting near your office.
Lizzy quickly checked her work diary.
There’s a place round the corner from me called Café Crème. See you there at 12?
Fine. See you then.
There was no thank you.
When she got to the café the next day Elliot was already there, his tall frame wedged uncomfortably under one of the low tables. He looked completely out of place amongst the yummy mummies trying to calm their squalling babies.
He got up awkwardly. ‘What can I get you?’
‘Latte please.’
‘Skinny or full-fat?’
‘Skinny, please.’
‘Oh. You look like the kind of person who drinks full-fat milk.’
Lizzy stared at him. Elliot’s cheeks turned ever so slightly pink.
‘I’ll go and order,’ he muttered.
She took her jacket off and asked herself again what the hell she was doing.
‘Thank you for seeing me,’ he said stiffly when he sat down again.
The woman at the next table kept giving them curious glances. She probably thought they’d formed some kind of Z-list Lonely Hearts Club.
‘How are you doing?’ Lizzy asked.
Elliot shot her an irritated look. ‘What do you mean, how am I doing?’
‘You emailed saying you wanted to meet up,’ Lizzy flashed back. ‘So I’m asking you how you are.’
‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
Five minutes later they were both still sitting there staring into space. Despite the premise of meeting to talk, Elliot had said only three sentences since she’d got here.
She decided to try one last time. ‘Have you heard anything from Amber?’
He muttered something under his breath.
‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that,’ she said.
Elliot looked at her hotly. ‘I said this was a ridiculous idea.’ He threw a load of coins down on the table and stood up. ‘Sorry I wasted your time.’
Lizzy was left watching open-mouthed as he strode out. The woman on the next table smiled sympathetically.
‘Hard dating them when they’re on the rebound, isn’t it? If I were you, I’d get out now.’
The next day Lizzy had booked the afternoon off and went to meet her mother for their annual lunch in Selfridges.
‘Your father’s started going to Pilates,’ Mrs Spellman announced over a glass of fizzing Prosecco. ‘He’s worried about his expanding waistband.’
She reached into her handbag for her diary. ‘Do you know what time you’ll be coming home on Christmas Eve?’
They were barely into September. ‘Mum, I don’t know what time I’ll be getting home tonight yet, let alone in three months’ time.’
Her mother tutted. ‘You sound just like your brother. Speaking of which, have you heard from him recently?’
‘Not for a while.’ Robbie had always been notoriously rubbish at keeping in touch. These days Lizzy would have to send five text messages before she got one back from him.
‘It’s like getting blood out of a stone trying to get an invitation over there. Apparently Hayley is very,’ Mrs Spellman made quote marks with her fingers, “territorial”.’
‘She’s certainly territorial over Robbie,’ Lizzy sighed.
‘I suppose I should be thankful that at least he’s with someone.’ Her mother had that look she got whenever she was about to start interrogating Lizzy about her love life. ‘What’s going on with you? Are there any nice boys on the scene?’
‘I don’t like it when you use the word “boys”, Mum. It feels a bit weird.’
‘All right then, chaps, beaus, studs, shag-buddies, whatever you young people call them these days.’
‘Mum! Eww!’
The waiter arrived with their food. Lizzy waited until he’d gone. ‘At this current time, Mother, there is no one on the scene.’
‘You live in London! There are men everywhere!’ Mrs Spellman waved her hand round the restaurant. ‘Look at all of them!’
‘It’s not that easy. You don’t just walk out of your front door and bump into the love of your life.’
‘Have you thought about becoming a lesbian?’
Lizzy nearly choked on her Prosecco. ‘Mum!’
‘Don’t look so wide-eyed, darling, it’s perfectly acceptable these days. Carol-from-down-the-road’s-sister’s-daughter has just “come out”.’ Her mother made quote marks again. ‘Set up a “love nest” in Brighton with her girlfriend.’ She squeezed a slice of lemon over her smoked salmon. ‘You know, I thought about becoming a lesbian once.’
‘What?!’
‘It was only briefly. Your father was really annoying me at the time.’
It took a few moments for Lizzy to recover from
that
bombshell. ‘Mum, I’m not about to turn gay.’
‘How do you know until you try?’ Her mother shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s the reason you’ve never been able to find lasting happiness with a man. Your father and I often wonder.’
‘Oh great!’ Lizzy lowered her voice as a waiter walked past. ‘So you spend hours round the dinner table discussing my sexuality?’
‘We don’t just discuss that, darling. I know it’s hard to fathom, but Dad and I have got a life outside you and your brother and sister.’ Her mother forked up a mouthful of rocket. ‘Anyway, I think you’d make a very nice lesbian. I’ve always liked you with shorter hair.’
‘Not all lesbians have short hair, Mum. Look at Portia de Rossi.’
‘Who? All I’m saying, darling, is that if you do want to “come out”’ – at this point there were more quote marks – ‘you’ve got nothing to feel ashamed or worried about. Your father and I are very open-minded. I think we’d even let you share a bed with your girlfriend when you came to stay.’
‘Mum! No one is sharing my bed when I bring them home! For the last time – I’m not gay!’
‘Shame.’ Mrs Spellman picked up her glass. ‘It would give those bitches down at the tennis club something to choke on their cappuccinos about.’
After their disastrous meet-up Lizzy hadn’t expected to hear from Elliot again, but two days later there was another email. It was as friendly as ever.
Free tomorrow?
‘You know your problem?’ Nic said when Lizzy rang her to ask what she should do. ‘You’re suffering from a severe case of “Lame Duck Syndrome”. Any creature that’s suffering or in distress, you want to help.’
‘Would you go?’
‘No, I’d have had him put down by now.’
It sounded very tinny wherever she was. ‘Are you in a lift?’ Lizzy asked.
‘No, I’m in Tokyo.’ There was another voice in the background. ‘Simon’s here. I’ve got to go.’
Post-breakup, people often feel sad, lost, empty, alone, and angry. Having an outlet to express the pain, discomfort, fears, and sadness, such as a therapist’s office, can reduce the sense of guilt and shame a person may feel for not ‘getting over’ it yet.
‘What are you doing?’
Antonia was doing one of her unnerving walkabouts round the office. For someone with such a large bottom she could move with the stealth of a cat. Sometimes she’d be standing over Lizzy’s shoulder for five minutes before Lizzy realized she was there.
‘Nothing.’ Lizzy quickly closed down the Google page on ‘How to deal with a person suffering from heartbreak.’
‘You haven’t been dumped AGAIN?’ Antonia announced.
Everyone looked up. ‘Oh Lizzy!’ one of the other account managers cried. ‘You poor thing.’
‘Sweets, I am sorry,’ Bianca told her. ‘I’m going to this party tonight, do you want to come along? You’ll be a lot older than everyone else, but it might take your mind off things.’
‘I haven’t been dumped!’ Lizzy protested. ‘I’m looking for a friend,’ she told Antonia.
‘Course you are. My heart bleeds and all that, but would you mind doing it on your own time, darling? We are trying to run a business here.’
Lizzy walked into Café Crème full of dread. Elliot was there before her again at the same table they’d sat at last time.
‘Hi.’ He did the same awkward hovering thing. ‘What can I get you to drink?’
At least he was slightly more welcoming than last time. ‘I’ll have a double gin and tonic please. And maybe a flaming sambuca to start.’
Elliot stared at her uncomprehendingly. ‘I don’t think they’ve got an alcohol licence here.’
‘I was joking,’ Lizzy said feebly. ‘Coffee would be great.’
You could have cut the atmosphere round the table with a cake knife. ‘Skinny latte?’ the waitress asked.
Lizzy seized on it gratefully. ‘Here thank you.’
The girl gave Lizzy a sympathetic look and walked off.
‘Thanks again for the coffee,’ she said.
Elliot gave a non-committal nod and picked up his phone again. He must have checked it ten times in the last five minutes.
‘What did you want to talk about?’ Lizzy asked him.
He gazed at the tablecloth, avoiding her gaze. ‘I don’t know. What do you want to talk about?’
Lizzy heard her BlackBerry buzz with another email. She really had better things to be doing than this.
‘If you don’t actually talk about how you’re feeling, then there’s absolutely no point me being here.’
‘I don’t know how I’m feeling,’ he snapped. ‘I’m sorry if I can’t just open my heart on request.’
‘I’ll tell you how I’m feeling!’ she snapped back. ‘Pissed off with being spoken to like a piece of shit!’
They sat there in a furious silence, looking anywhere but at each other. ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he said eventually.
Lizzy nearly fell out of her seat. Was that an actual apology?
Elliot put his hands on the table and then took them off again. ‘I just find this kind of … stuff really difficult.’
That was an understatement. ‘Look, let’s have one last go,’ Lizzy said. ‘Why don’t I ask questions and you just answer them? If you want to, that is.’
He shrugged reluctantly. ‘Go on then.’
Lizzy crossed her arms and sat back. ‘Elliot, on the happiness index, where are you today on a scale of one to ten?’
‘Are you being serious?’
‘Don’t push your luck, mate,’ she warned him. ‘I’m about a nanosecond from walking.’
‘I just don’t see the point in validating your feelings against a hypothetical index. One person’s idea of happiness could be completely different from another’s.’
‘It was just an idea,’ she sighed. ‘OK. When did you and Amber first meet?’
‘Why do you want to know that?’ he said suspiciously.
‘I don’t know, because it might be cathartic? And right now I’m pretty much running out of other options.’
They stared each other out across the table.
‘Look, this isn’t working,’ Lizzy told him. She started to get her things together. ‘I’m not really qualified for this. I think you need to speak to a professional.’
‘She came to our school in the lower sixth,’ Elliot suddenly blurted out. ‘I was sixteen and I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.’
Lizzy looked up from her handbag. Elliot was smiling desperately at her. ‘Five hundred boys stuck at boarding school in the middle of a windswept moor. You can imagine the reaction when Amber turned up.’
Lizzy sat back. She remembered Cassandra’s comment about Elliot falling in love with Amber from the off. ‘Did you start going out together then?’
He shook his head. ‘We were best friends for years. We both had our own things going on romantically, but I guess there was always this unspoken agreement that we’d get together in the end.’
‘The old: “If we haven’t met anyone else by the age of thirty, we might as well end up together,”’ Lizzy said dryly.
‘It wasn’t quite like that,’ Elliot said, equally dryly. ‘Amber is an incredible woman, the kind of person every man dreams of ending up with. I would have been a fool not to want to be with her.’