Rory's Proposal (19 page)

I look at my empty plate and dab at the crumbs, She’s absolutely right of course. Luke is not my Mr Right and never has been. I hate vegetarian food, and as for his health fads, I swear my colon will never be the same after the colonic clean out diet. I love chocolate and always have. It would be so wonderful if just once I could take it from a cupboard like everyone else. I ask you, who has Crunchies in Tampax boxes? It’s not natural is it?

‘Tart?’ says a voice.

I turn to see Tom standing behind the bench holding two plates.

‘I think the word is floosie in these parts,’ I say bitterly.

‘You know what I meant. I thought the bittersweet tart kind of reflected us,’ he says with a wry smile. ‘You look beautiful by the way, and smell fabulous. I hope Luke appreciated it.’

Yes he did actually. He was actually proud to have me on his arm. I don’t say that of course. I feel my mouth turn dry and my heart flutter as it always does at just the sight of him and hate him for making me feel like this. I stand up
and make to walk past him but he
blocks my way.

‘Let me explain,’ he says softly, placing the plates on the bench.

‘I don’t want to hear any more of your lies, please let me pass.’

A smiling waitress wanders out with a tray of champagne and he grabs two glasses.

‘Have a drink with me, just one drink.’

‘The last time I had a drink with you and your wanking Welsh friends I ended up in the newspapers,’ I say angrily.

‘I’m sorry. It was Gareth. It was suggested that
we contact the papers and make some kind of statement. I said I think we should just let it die a natural death. I did what I could for tonight. I didn’t want you or Luke to be embarrassed. If you want me to contact the press …’

I shake my head. How uncanny that he said the same thing as I said to Luke, to not contact the papers and to let it die a natural death?

‘Listen Flo,’ he says,
moving closer. ‘Don’t marry Luke. You’re making a mistake.’

I scoff.

‘I don’t need your advice thank you very much.’

‘Flo,’ he says putting a hand on my arm.

‘Don’t touch me, please,’ I say, struggling to fight back my tears. ‘And stop calling me Flo.’

He sighs heavily.

‘Just tell me what I’ve done wrong?’

I gape at him.

‘You’re a bastard,’ I say, stunned he even has the cheek to ask.

‘But what have I done that is so awful? I’m happy to offer more money if that is the issue. I’m happy to look at sites with you but you say no. What do you want from me?’ he looks questioningly into my eyes.

What a pig and to think I feel something for this man.

‘I don’t want to sell my salon and all you keep doing is bullying me.’

‘Flora, no one is bullying anyone. You’re the one who changed your mind and for some reason it’s
all my fault.’

I don’t believe I’m hearing this.

‘What?’

‘If it’s about money which I think it is, just tell me how much you want. You have me in a catch-22 situation here and you know it.’

I stare at him. I have
him
in a catch-22 situation. What the hell. Before I know what I’m doing I’ve thrown the glass of champagne in his face. I hear gasps from some guests behind me and watch as he reels back in shock. Oh Jesus, I’ve never done anything like that in my
life but how dare he blame me for this. I’m the innocent party here.

‘You scheming bastard. You bought the two shops at the side of me before approaching me and you say I put you in the catch-22 situation. How dare you.’

He pulls a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and mops at his face.

‘What did you say?’ he asks, softly.

‘You heard me and then you did the lowest thing of all,’ I snap. ‘You stole our idea about the prescriptions. You and Grant Richards are nothing but lowlife.’

I stare at him, breathing hard.

‘No, in fact you’re worse than a lowlife. You’re just a no good scum bug.’

I see pain and confusion cross his face. I turn angrily on my heels but his hand on my arm stops me.

‘Flo …’

‘I never want to see you ever again,’ I say, fighting back my tears.

‘Take your hand off my fiancée please,’ says Luke from behind me.

I feel my anger increase even more. I’m not his fiancée yet. I’m seriously wondering if Luke only wants to get engaged to me so he can have one over on Tom. How ironic all this is? I was the one desperate to get engaged and now I don’t want to be engaged to anyone.

‘Are you okay?’ Luke asks, taking my hand.

I nod while feeling far from okay. I can see from Luke’s face that he is not happy. He hates drawing attention to himself and no doubt he will blame me for this when we are alone.

‘Flo …’ Tom says softly.

‘It’s Flora to you,’ says Luke. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us.’

‘Is everything okay Luke?’

I turn to see Tom’s father. It’s becoming a whole family affair now. I’ve seriously had it with the Rory’s.

‘Everything is fine,’ Luke says with a smile.

‘Actually it isn’t,’ I say, storming from the patio and into the packed ballroom where all eyes seem to follow me. I rush into the ladies and slam the cubicle door and burst
into tears.

Don’t you just hate pregnant women? Maybe you don’t. Generally I don’t either as a rule, but when they decide to go into labour just as you’re going through the biggest crisis of your life it’s a whole other ball game. I’d barely been home an hour when a screaming Rosalind bellows down the phone,

‘Get your fucking arse over here now and for pity’s sake bring a cocktail of drugs. Jeremy won’t even give me a fucking paracetamol, the bastard.’

So, that’s what I did, I got my arse over there, without the cocktail of drugs bit. Even I have to agree with Jeremy on that one. Well, I couldn’t
say,
do you mind awfully if I’m not your birthing partner after all. It’s just I’ve had a shit few days,
could I? Although breaking up with your fiancé is more than a bit shitty isn’t it? Although in theory I suppose Luke wasn’t my fiancé as we never exchanged rings, all the same it’s still pretty shitty to break up with anyone. Not to mention that I told the man I actually do love that I never wanted to see him
again. Only I could fall in love with such a lowlife as Thomas Rory. And to make things even shittier I am now homeless or at least I soon will be. Luke has agreed to stay in a hotel for a week while I find somewhere else.

I reach Rosalind’s flat and one look at her face and contorted body is enough to put me off childbirth for ever.

‘Is it early?’ I ask.

‘I don’t give a shit. I didn’t book a
time with the little bugger. I just want it out and … oh Christ, here comes another one,’ she yells.

‘Breathe,’ I say, while panting in sympathy like a mad woman.

We make a dash for the car between contractions.

‘I wonder if we should get a taxi?’ Jeremy asks.

‘But she’s in the car now,’ I say.

‘Are you taking me to the hospital or am I giving birth here?’ Rosalind yells.

‘It’s just …’ he leans towards me and whispers, ‘It’s the company car.’

For Christ’s sake.

‘Oh God, bollocking Christ,’ cries Rosalind, panting for all she’s worth.

‘Just breathe,’ I say stupidly.

‘Well I don’t intend to stop do I?’ she snaps.

Oh dear.

‘We can’t move her again,’ I say. ‘Besides it could take a while to get a cab.’

‘Yes, quite right. Sorry, just being a dick.’

Yes, well you are a man. The contraction passes and Rosalind falls back onto the seat.

‘Sorry,’ she mumbles. ‘Bad timing. I told you he was a sadistic little bugger didn’t I? So, did you propose?’

Jeremy speeds through London like a crazy bank robber with a siren-wailing police car in hot pursuit. I’ve never been so scared. He takes two turnings at breakneck speed and shoots through a red light. I begin to worry my assed out colon won’t be able to take the stress. We approach a roundabout and I close my eyes as Rosalind has another contraction.

‘Jeremy, for God’s sake will you slow down. At this rate I won’t live to give birth.’

He swerves into the hospital car park and brings the car to an abrupt halt.

‘For Christ’s sake,’ she snaps. ‘I swear that’s broken my waters.’

‘Oh shit,’ he mumbles. ‘Not the upholstery, it’s the company car.’

I shake my head. God, I’m so going off men. We bundle her out of the car and Jeremy quickly checks the seats.

‘I’ll get a wheelchair,’ he yells.

‘I didn’t have to propose,’ I say. ‘Luke got there before me.’

‘That’s great,’ she smiles, before grimacing as another contraction kicks in. ‘Christ, here we go again.’

Jeremy gives Rosalind the white knuckle ride of her life while shouting,

‘It’s my wife … she’s in labour … her water’s broken.’

Rosalind rolls her eyes and I bend over to catch my breath. A nurse leans over me and taps my shoulder.

‘Are you alright my love?’ she asks.

‘No,’ says an irritable Jeremy. ‘This is my wife.’

‘This way,’ says the nurse. ‘How frequent are the contractions?’

‘About every five minutes,’ says Jeremy.

We all follow.

‘So, did you get a ring, show me?’ asks Rosalind.

‘I broke it off?’

‘Broke what off?’ she asks.

‘The engagement,’ I say calmly.

The smell of antiseptic and all this sympathetic panting is making me dizzy.

‘That’s it,’ I say. ‘Just breathe, you’re doing great.’

We pant together
while a pale-faced Jeremy looks on.

‘Let’s get you into a robe shall we. Is daddy staying for the birth?’ asks the nurse in a sing-song voice.

‘Well … I … the thing …’ mumbles Jeremy,

‘No he isn’t,’ groans Rosalind. ‘Bloody coward started all this but he can’t see it through to the bitter end.’

She moans and grabs my arm as another contraction starts. I wince as her grip tightens. Jesus, if she squeezes any harder my arm will turn blue.

‘Shit and bollocks, why didn’t someone warn me about this nine months ago?’

‘Think of nice things,’ chirps the nurse, helping Rosalind onto the bed and lifting the gown, exposing her vagina for all to see.

‘Oh God,’ says Jeremy, making a quick exit.

‘Anyone would think he’d never seen it before,’ grins Rosalind.

‘Dilating nicely,’ says the nurse.

‘I want everything. Epidurals, morphine, crack, whatever you’ve got, inject me with it. Just give me the forms and … oh shit.’

She grabs my hand and squeezes again. Bloody hell, I won’t be able to work for a week at this rate. It’s my scissor cutting hand too.

‘Think of calm things, go to your happy place,’ says the nurse.

I wish I could go to my happy place. It certainly isn’t here.

‘I don’t get it?’ pants Rosalind. ‘How can you get engaged and then break it off in the space of forty-eight hours?’

‘Less actually, I think it was more like three.’

‘Jesus, three, how did you manage that? Oh God,’ she says clutching her stomach. ‘I swear I’m going to divorce Jeremy after this. I’ll take the bastard for every penny he’s got. Not that the bugger’s got much.’

‘Breathe, breathe,’ I say, trying not to scream as her hand squeezes even tighter. Note to self, never agree to be a birthing partner again.

‘And to make matters even worse,’ I say, trying to take her mind off things while feeling tears prick my eyes, ‘that guy, the one who banged my car …’

‘Ooh yes,’ she says, wiping the perspiration from her forehead.

‘He’s the guy who’s trying to get my salon. He’s a lying, deceiving, pissing little …’

‘Oh my God, what an arse,’ she exclaims. ‘Oh Flo, I’m so sorry.’

I nod.

‘A lying, deceiving, pissing …’

‘I get your drift. He’s a fuckwit to top all fuckwits right?’

I nod.

‘And you’ve fallen for him,’ she says blandly.

‘Not any more,’ I say resolutely. ‘From this moment on we are enemies. It’s war. I’m not giving up my salon and he is now stuck with two properties both sides and no way to build a supermarket.’

She looks closely at me and releases her grip.

‘So you hate him?’

‘With my every fibre, I’m going to fight tooth and nail to keep my salon. I’ll need as much support as I can get.’

‘We’re all with you chick. Just let me push this little sod out of me and I’ll be there with you. We’ll make sure you keep the salon, don’t worry and … oh fuck here we go.’

I give her my other hand and begin panting. The nurse looks closely at her vagina and invites me to do the same. It’s a shocking sight. I never for one minute imagined I would get up close and personal to Rosalind’s vagina. Still, that’s what girlfriends are for isn’t it? I don’t mean getting up close and personal to each other’s vaginas, obviously not. I mean supporting each other in moments of crisis. Thirty minutes later and Rosalind is screaming like a banshee. The air is blue and I’m privy to just a little more of her vagina than I’d like to be.

‘Give me the fucking epidural you bitch,’ she screams at the midwife.

‘Sorry about this,’ I say.

‘Oh, I’ve heard worse,’ she smiles.

I can’t imagine anyone having a worse mouth than Rosalind. Two hours and an almost broken wrist later Rosalind sits contentedly holding her little sadistic sod. I kiss her on the cheek. I swear I’m more exhausted than she is.

‘He’s a sadistic little bugger but you’ve got to admit a cute one,’ says Rosalind proudly.

She’s changed her tune. Two hours ago she was giving it up for adoption. I smile and let him clasp my little finger in his tiny grasp.

‘Right, I’ll get off. I’ve got plans to make about dealing with my own little sadistic sod,’ I say.

‘Don’t be too rash Flo.
Give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he …’

‘He had hundreds of chances to tell me,’ I say angrily.

She cuddles up closer to her little sadist.

‘Perhaps he liked you too much to tell you.’

I laugh. Now that is a joke.

‘Have you looked at me lately?’ I say. ‘I’m a wreck. I’m totally unfit, fat and my hair is a mess and …’

‘I’d give anything for your gorgeous auburn hair. It’s lovely and thick. And you’re not fat. So what if you’re not sodding fit. It’s not Luke you want is it? I know I wouldn’t. Christ, if Jeremy started telling me what I could and couldn’t eat I’d start divorce proceedings. You’re lovely, Flo. You’ve got a complexion to die for, beautiful eyes and a smile that lights up a whole room.’

I gape at her.

‘And no I don’t fancy you,’ she laughs. ‘I just think Luke has made you see yourself in a bad light.’

‘Tom Rory is a dream catch and …’

‘Did it ever occur to you that perhaps he thinks you are too?’

‘He used me Rosalind. I can’t let him think that’s okay. And you’re right, I have let men allow me to think badly of myself but it’s time to stop that now.’

I kiss her fondly on the cheek. Thomas Rory, let the war begin.