Rory's Proposal (31 page)

‘If you change your mind about the hot chocolate I’ll be at Heroes. I’ll wait an hour.’

The next thing I know there is a tinkle and the door has closed behind him. I rush out the back and burst into tears, which then become hiccupping sobs. I don
’t know how long I’d been like it when I hear the bell tinkle again. I jump up hoping it is him.

Sandy stands in the salon and stares at me dumbstruck.

‘Jesus Flo, what the hell happened? You look bloody awful.’

I feel my whole body shake and allow her to lead me to a chair. She disappears into the kitchenette and I hear the kettle being filled. My head is thumping and I feel sick and to top it all my stomach is cramping. I hear the clatter of crockery and then Sandy returns with two mugs of camomile tea.

‘Here, drink this. Christ alive, what the hell …?’ she begins. ‘Let me put some geranium oil in the burner. That should calm you.’

I grab a tissue and blow my nose furiously.

‘The basin is leaking again and the tumble dryer blew up and I just cracked up. I phoned Tim, at least I thought I was phoning Tim but instead I phoned Tom and …’

She nods.

‘Ah, I see. Drink your tea.’

I watch as she tips two drops of oil into the burner, adds some water and lights a candle.

‘He came here, bold as brass, claiming everything was Grant Richard’s fault. He’ll say anything rather than take the blame. In fact …’

‘
Flo, hang on a minute …’

‘
I’m beginning to think he was behind those rioters yesterday. It’s going to make us look bad in the papers isn’t it? We’re going to lose all support and then he can get my salon. Although he’s still insisting he doesn’t want it and that Grant Richards is bitter and …’

‘
Flora, stop a minute,’ she says, placing her hand over mine.

I exhale heavily. She tells me to take a deep breath and exhale slowly before pulling a letter from her handbag.

‘I think you should read this,’ she says pushing it into my hand. ‘It was delivered this morning by special courier. It could be that you’ve been wrong about Tom Rory.’

I re-read the letter, trying to make sense of everything.

‘I don’t understand,’ I say finally.

Oh dear God, please don
’t tell me I’ve lost the one man I’ve truly loved and all because of my big mouth.

‘
He’s sold the two shops either side. He obviously didn’t want to take the salon from you.’

‘
It was Grant Richards all along?’ I say.

She shrugs.

‘I don’t know. It points to some kind of misunderstanding doesn’t it? The fact is people like Tom don’t do everything themselves do they? He’d never sleep. So, perhaps it was all Grant Richards. That would explain why suddenly that other guy is head of acquisitions wouldn’t it?’

I look at the letter again and read the offer.

‘But whoever now owns the shop is practically giving it away. Terence’s shop must be worth at least twice that amount,’ I say. ‘Who’s offering it to you?’

‘
I’ve no idea. The solicitors are the nominees for someone who wants to stay anonymous. I’m not going to argue the price. You know what Jeth thinks? He thinks Tom has bought it and this is his way of putting things right. He is offering to sell the shop to me at a knocked down price.’

I stare wide
-eyed at her.

‘
But how would he know you wanted the shop …?’

I break off at the memory.

‘I told him,’ I say simply.

‘
I wondered,’ she smiles.

‘
Over hot chocolate, I said how you’d wanted to buy the video shop and that we had been so excited about working together and …’

I lower my head into my hands.

‘What have I done?’ I moan. ‘I was so rude to him. Oh Sandy, what do I do?’

She puts an arm around me.

‘Why don’t you phone him? Ask if you can meet for a chat. Surely it’s never too late …’

‘
What’s the time?’ I say jumping up.

‘
What?’

‘
He said he would wait an hour for me at Heroes if I wanted to have a hot chocolate with him.’

‘
Go,’ she shouts.

I put a hand to my hair.

‘But look at me,’ I say, feeling suddenly deflated.

‘
You look the same as when I arrived. So if he invited you for a hot chocolate then, I don’t think he is going to mind very much now. Just go before you run out of time. Brush your hair on the way and put some lippy on.’

I kiss her on the cheek, grab my bag and fly out of the door.

Ten minutes later and I’m sitting in a horrendous traffic jam. I don’t believe this. Everything is conspiring against me. I’m destined not to put things right with Tom. I look at the clock on my dashboard. Ten more minutes and the hour will be up. I open the car door and strain to see what’s causing the hold up.

‘
Has there been an accident?’ I ask.

‘
A peaceful demonstration,’ says the man in front of me. ‘Let’s hope it stays that way. Something to do with pensions. A load of OAPs probably.’

Well, that
’s great isn’t it? A protest stops me getting to Tom. Now isn’t that ironic. I look at my car and ahead to the gridlock. Right, I’ve got no choice.

‘
I’ve got to run,’ I say, ‘it’s an emergency.’

‘
But your car,’ he shouts after me.

‘
They can tow it away,’ I shout back and start running like my life depends on it. I fumble for my BlackBerry and check the time. I’ve only got five minutes. I’ll never do it. I skirt around the OAPs and their zimmer frames, darting in and out of the crowd with their banners held high. Honestly, I’ve seen it all now. I pound the pavement like a professional runner, Luke would be proud of me and I find myself smiling at the thought. Then I remember why I’m running and feel my stomach lurch. Please be there, please. My throat burns and my heart is pumping madly. I’ve no idea what I’m going to say when I see him. I’ll most likely collapse at his feet. This is the most exercise I’ve had in months. I fly around the corner into Portobello Market and stop to catch my breath. What I wouldn’t do for Devon’s inhaler. I check the BlackBerry again. I’m five minutes past the hour now. Oh God, please make him wait. Finally I’m opposite Heroes. I’m sweating buckets and panting like an asthmatic. I grasp my knees and wait for the stitch in my side to pass. I then check my reflection in my handbag mirror and groan. I look awful. I’m red faced and sweaty. Bits of hair stick to my neck. He’ll take one look at me and regret ever inviting me. I run a comb through my hair, wipe some lipstick across my lips and walk towards the entrance. I open the door and look around. I can’t see him. I walk further into the coffee shop and scan the back. There is no sign of him. My shoulders slump and I fight back the tears. It serves me right. I should have trusted him. Perhaps he changed his mind. I wouldn’t blame him. I check my BlackBerry. I’m ten minutes over the hour. I don’t believe it. He didn’t wait one extra minute for me. I walk tiredly to the door and step aside for a couple as they squeeze through the door all arm in arm and over each other. As I do so, I turn and see him coming out of the loo. He sees me and raises his eyebrows and sits at the same table we had sat at only a few weeks ago. He meets my eyes. His face is serious. He’s probably regretting asking me already. He lifts a hand to the waitress.

‘
Two more hot chocolates,’ he says. ‘One with just white marshmallows, and can we have them on the side and not on the cream?’

She writes down the order and as she moves away he nods at the chair opposite him. I sit down gingerly, feeling my head thump.

‘I’m glad you came,’ he says softly.

‘
You are?’ I say, relief flooding my body. I almost sway off my seat.

‘
Of course.’

I take a deep breath.

‘I’m sorry I swore at you,’ I say quietly.

‘
You yelled at me too.’

‘
Yes, I’m sorry about that. I’m a bit …’

‘
Premenstrual?’ he smiles.

I nod.

‘As long as you left the screwdriver at the salon,’ he says with a grin.

I feel myself relax. The waitress returns with the hot chocolate and I sip it, grateful for some time to form my thoughts.

‘Sandy came by just after you left.’

He doesn
’t speak.

‘
She’s been given first refusal on the video shop. What you said about selling the shops was true.’

‘
Everything I’ve said is true.’

I bite my lip.

‘Did you buy the shops? Anonymously?’

He looks thoughtful. I wait patiently. He sips his hot chocolate before nodding.

‘It was the only way I could put things right Flo. I knew I’d lost you but I wanted you to be happy. There’s a letter, probably at your flat right now, offering you the newsagents, so you can extend the salon. I had hoped that was why you phoned me …’

His knee touches mine and my whole body jerks with the force of my emotions. I don
’t move my knee and neither does he.

‘
Why didn’t you tell me the truth?’ I ask.

‘I tried to, so many times. I didn’t want you to think badly of me. It’s funny that isn’t it? Considering how much you hate me now. I don’t play the victim very well, I’m afraid.’

‘
I don’t hate you,’ I say gently.

I so don
’t hate you, I think, wanting so much to touch him.

‘
I’d never have guessed,’ he smiles.

I lower my head and fiddle with a marshmallow.

‘It wasn’t me, you know, the riot…’

‘
I know that. That’s why you were arrested before the others. I didn’t want you to get hurt.’

‘
I’ve been stupid …’ I begin.

‘
I can’t argue with that,’ he says, deliberately brushing his knee against mine and looking into my eyes.

‘
The protest … I’m so sorry. It was meant to be peaceful.’

He nods solemnly.

‘Sounds like your mum needs tighter control.’

I look seriously at him.

‘No, she …’

He grins and I sigh with relief.

I reach my hand out across the table and he covers it with his. I feel the warmth of him and shiver.

‘
Are you cold?’ he asks.

I shake my head.

Me with a millionaire, who’d have thought it? My mum will be over the moon when I tell her. Someone clicks on the jukebox and suddenly
Tonight’s gonna be a good night
begins to play. His eyes light up.

‘
They’re playing our song,’ he says, helping himself to one of my marshmallows. ‘Fancy a game of cards?’

‘
What here?’ I smile.

‘
I’ve never shown you my house have I?’ he says, lifting my hand to his lips. ‘How about a game of gin rummy? The loser buys dinner.’

‘As long as your sheep-
shagging rugby boyos aren’t there,’ I laugh.

‘
Does this mean you’re surrendering?’ he asks huskily.

It
’s all I can do not to rip my clothes off there and then. I wonder if I have time to go back and get the flogger.

‘
Absolutely’ I say softly.

‘
Wonderful,’ he says.

He then rubs his foot up my thigh.

‘Let’s go home then,’ he says taking my hand.

I take it gratefully, thinking still time to be engaged before I
’m thirty-one.