Lucy hesitated. “I don’t know what to say. Things have changed so much. I’ve changed.”
“I can see that,” he said, shooting her an appraising look. “You look great, Lucy.”
She should have felt flattered but she just felt embarrassed and she certainly didn’t feel great. “What’s made you decide to come here?” she repeated, determined not to be sidetracked by his charm.
“I just thought you might need a friend right now after this latest business in the newspaper. I’m sorry the way things have worked out with you and John.”
“His name’s Josh. And we never really got started. In fact, I’m just packing to come back to London.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Not staying to try and make a go of things with him?”
“No. The newspapers had everything out of proportion. He’s not my boyfriend or my partner. They made all of that up.”
“Ah. In that case, I really think you should let me come inside.”
When she still hesitated he gave the little-boy pout she’d once found so sexy.
“After all, whatever’s happened, it’s just me underneath. Just a humble sandwich maker, and he’s here asking you to bring him in out of the cold before he collapses on your lawn and is found eaten by crazed sheep,” he said. “They
do
have crazed sheep here, don’t they? Because there were a few over by that wall that seem slightly deranged.”
She followed his gaze to the lane where three woolly faces peered through the fence at a sleek sports car. “You’ll be OK. Most sheep are quite safe unless provoked.”
“Even so, I still don’t fancy being left alone in the wilds.” His face became serious. “Isn’t it time we had a proper grown-up conversation about what happened?”
“You’re right. It is. More than time.”
She made him a coffee while she tried to calm herself down and make sense of his reappearance. When she walked back into the sitting room, he was stretched out on the sofa, leafing through a copy of
Horse
& Hound
. He brushed at his trousers. “The dog hairs are Fiona’s, I take it?”
“Hengist’s. I’ve tried to clean them up but they stick to everything,” she said, handing him a mug. “Sorry, it’s instant coffee and I’ve no brownies either.”
“Sadly, I haven’t brought any with me. No time for hands-on stuff these days, I’m afraid.”
His eyes sparkled briefly and she waited for the flip, the once-familiar twist in her stomach, but there was nothing.
“Nick, you said we should have a proper conversation.”
“Yes. Of course. The thing is, we’ve both managed to make quite a mess of the past few months.”
“Apart from you winning
Hot
Shots
, that is…”
“Well, yes, of course,” said Nick, waving his hand dismissively. “But I’ve made a mess of
us
. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, mainly about what happened in the studio. Now I see that I just got carried away by the moment and that was unforgivable. Lucy, I really cared for you.”
“Then why wouldn’t you talk to me afterward? I was desperate to talk to you.”
He held up his hands. “
Mea
culpa
. I was just too hurt, Lucy. Too raw and, let’s face it, you made me look like a total jerk in front of millions of people. No man’s going to enjoy that kind of humiliation.”
“I just couldn’t lie to you, Nick, but I never meant to hurt or embarrass you either. I cared for you too. In fact, I cared way too much just to say yes for the sake of appearances. I didn’t want to lie. I hate lying… despite what the world may think. And you did put me in an impossible position.”
“I’d like to,” he said, winking.
Alarm bells rang in her head. He was still gorgeous, and now he was famous and successful too. Most women would fall into his arms. Most would think she was completely raving mad not to have accepted him, not to be melting now.
“How is your family?” she said, changing the subject and not even bothering to be subtle about it.
He frowned but took the hint. “They’re fine. Hattie’s engaged to a stockbroker so Mum and Dad are doubly happy. Both their offspring have finally made sensible career choices.”
That brought a smile. Same old Nick.
“Lucy, do you have a bathroom? It’s been a long drive from London and I don’t have hollow legs.”
“Upstairs on the right through the latch door. Don’t bump your head on the beam.”
“A beam and latch door, eh? And there’s me thinking this place might have an outside privy.”
“Not quite.”
When she was alone, she sat back in her chair. Nick turning up had knocked her for six. He was genuinely apologetic about the proposal and some of the guilt she’d felt about turning him down crept back into her mind. To come all this way to see how she was, to have finally faced up to talking over what had happened—well, he was a better, braver person than she was in that respect.
She heard the creaking of the floorboards above and the flush of the antiquated cistern. As his footsteps thudded on the stairs, her cell phone buzzed. Lucy picked it up from the table and was about to press the answer button when she realized that it wasn’t her phone. It was Nick’s phone. And she recognized the name on the screen. Just one word but unforgettable all the same:
Carmody
.
She pressed answer and held the phone just away from her ear, too afraid to listen too closely, yet hearing the voice loud and clear anyway.
“Nick? It’s Ross, mate. Any joy with the great reunion?”
Lucy’s throat was dry.
“Nick, are you all right? Not got her into bed already, have you, you jammy bastard?”
She was still holding the phone as Nick entered the lounge. Seeing her expression, his grin melted from his face.
“You’ve had a call,” she said, holding out the phone to him.
“I’m too busy to take it right now,” he said, almost smiling again.
“Yes, but it looks important. I think you should take it.”
As he reached for the phone and saw the screen, his mouth set into a hard line. He stabbed the
off
button and glared up at Lucy.
“Won’t your mate be expecting an answer?” she said quietly.
“Fuck him.”
Tossing the phone onto the sofa, he stepped forward and gripped her arms with his hands. Lucy flinched but stood firm.
“Things don’t have to be over, Lucy. We’ve made a mess of things, but I think there’s a way forward for both of us,” he said soothingly.
Her skin prickled where his fingers pressed into her flesh. “
Forward
?”
“Yeah. Onward and upward. People will understand that you had a fling, that we’ve both made a mistake. They’re desperate for us to get back together, don’t you see? It’s human nature to want a happy ending.”
Lucy felt faintly sick, unable to believe what he was proposing. “You can’t still want us to get married after all that’s happened?”
“Why not? We had a blast together and you know how good the sex was. It wouldn’t do either of us any harm. Your profile’s high and so is mine. The door is still wide open. What is so wrong with making the most of your opportunities? Why do you have to take everything so seriously?”
The phone buzzed from the sofa and Nick glanced down at the screen. “Don’t you want to answer that? It might be important,” she cut in smoothly.
“No. You’re more important.”
“Nick, I’d like you to leave now.”
“If you force me to walk away again you’ll be making a big mistake.”
“No. The only mistake I made was in ever letting you chase me down the street with that bagel. I should have carried on walking.”
He shook his head as if she was a disobedient and rather dim child. “Oh dear, Lucy. I really like you, but you know what? I’m not so sure you’d fit in my world.”
“I never wanted to fit into your world, Nick. I never want to fit into anyone’s world except my own. And now, I think you really should get out.”
Opening the door wide, she held it so that he could pass through. As he strode up the path toward the gate she half expected Josh to appear. If this was a TV drama, he would appear, and then there would be a fight for her honor.
“You really are mad. You won’t get another chance,” he called, flicking the remote on his car. The last she saw was him wrenching open the door, throwing his phone on the seat. Then he revved the engine and drove off, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.
No Josh had appeared. Lucy knew he was never going to fight for her again. But she wouldn’t cry. She’d wasted too many tears over Nick, then some over Josh. She was still telling herself not to waste any tears at two in the morning when, watching another rerun of
Brief
Encounter
on the old TV, they burst forth in great sobs and howls that soaked the cushion Fiona had bought specially for Hengist.
Six Months Later
“Lucy, I’m just off to lunch. Can I get you anything?” Lucy glanced up from the media proposal on her desk and smiled at Lorna, her assistant, hovering by the door of their office.
“I wouldn’t mind some soup and a sandwich, but only if it isn’t out of your way.”
“I’m going right past. It’s no problem. Shouldn’t you take a break yourself?”
Lucy shook her head. “Probably, but I want to make some changes to this proposal for Countryland Vacations.”
“I can stay, you know. I’ll just nip out for rations, then I’ll come back and help.”
“Thanks for the offer, but take a break and don’t worry about me. I’m going out for dinner tonight, so I can’t stay too late.”
Lorna raised her eyebrows. She opened her mouth then closed it before disappearing into the corridor. Lucy was amused. Lorna had only been working as her assistant for a few weeks, and Lucy could see that she was not quite sure whether she dared tease her boss yet. That was fine, thought Lucy, who had hardly got used to being boss to herself yet, let alone to anyone else.
When she’d first moved back to London from Cornwall the previous autumn, Able & Lawson had offered her her job back. She’d been touched but she’d said no. If there was one thing she’d learned after the events of the past year or so, it was that her independence meant more to her than almost anything. In fact, she’d decided that nothing would make her give it up now she’d tasted freedom. One of the campground resorts she’d worked for in Cornwall had given her their PR business and as a result of that, she’d picked up the account for the whole group. Clients were impressed by the fact that she’d had literal hands-on experience of the business, and after three months of running Gibson Marketing from her kitchen table, she’d picked up three more vacation accounts and some freelance bits and bobs from Able & Lawson. It was time to branch out and if that meant a tiny office above a podiatrist’s in the suburbs, so be it. Finding Lorna, an ex PR wanting a part-time job, had been a huge stroke of luck but Lucy thought she deserved a little luck right now.
By six thirty, Lorna was still doggedly researching prospects on the web and Lucy’s hand was beginning to ache from gripping the mouse. It was also freezing: the central heating in the office had already been switched off by the landlord, even though it was barely March.
“Time to call it a day, I think,” said Lucy, noticing Lorna’s red eyes and blue fingers.
“Are you sure? I only have a few more possibles on the list.”
“It’s Friday night. It’s minus two in here, and I’m sure you must have more interesting places to be than here.”
Lorna’s face went slightly pink.
“I can see you do,” said Lucy.
“It’s a guy I met at a day care, actually,” said Lorna. “My mum’s offered to babysit for Chloe so we can go for a meal together. To be honest, I haven’t been out with a guy for nearly a year and I’m as nervous as hell. What will we talk about? Toilet training? Who’s shagging who in the
Teletubbies
?”
“Why don’t you tell him how you helped your firm win the Countryland Vacations account? On second thought… just get out of here—and that’s an order from the boss.”
Five minutes later, the computer screens were dark. Lucy locked up the office and followed Lorna out into the street. Wrapping her scarf tighter around her neck, she waited as Lorna pulled on woolly gloves.
“Good night, Lorna, and thanks for staying late. Hope your date with Mr. Mum goes well.”
“No problem. Have a good evening and er…” Lorna hesitated then added slyly, “enjoy your date too. You look great.”
“See you Monday,” said Lucy, smiling yet feeling suddenly overwhelmed with nerves. There was still time to back out of tonight’s encounter, she told herself as Lorna headed in the opposite direction, leaving her alone in the shadows. There was still time to save herself from the pain, the awkwardness of the meeting she’d agreed to. No, she told herself as she gripped her briefcase. Been there, done that. She didn’t run away anymore.
She made her way toward the Tube station, surfacing twenty minutes later onto a quiet side street where the door to a bistro beckoned, its lights glowing. She stopped and took in a lungful of the cool night air. Would he be there? she wondered, or had he got cold feet like she almost had?