Tripping on Love (18 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY

Passport control was heaving as I made my way towards it, heart heavy at the sight of hundreds of nationalities impatiently queuing for entry into
London. Joining the shortest queue behind an Italian woman and her small child, I noticed my skin looked tanned in comparison to the airport ground staff. I hoped Edward would appreciate my healthy glow.    

My stomach flipped at the thought of him. I'd spent most of the night tossing and tur
ning thinking about our meeting, terrified at the outcome. It was far from ideal meeting at an airport café but I was intrigued to hear his explanation for not being in contact. 

My holdall began to weigh heavily on my arm. Placing it on the floor in front of me, I noticed that both queues either side of me were moving a lot quicker than my own. I glanced down to the front of the queue, frowning as I spotted a policeman assisting the passport clerk.
 

A shady looking male in dark clothing and glasses was being questioned intently as the policeman stepped forward to secure the man’s arm. I jumped with a start as the male broke free of his grip and sprinted forward, past the passport clerk.
 

Security personnel rushed from all angles as alarms sounded loudly overhead. Those queuing alongside me began to look around wildly, the child in front of me starting to cry hysterically at the commotion. I groa
ned. This couldn’t be happening - a possible illegal attempt to enter the UK on the same day of my important meeting with Edward.

My mind began to race as I tried valiantly to block out the alarm klaxon and chaos around me. Would this mean a security alert on flights that were arriving into the airport within the next hour?
 

By my calculation Edward's flight from
Abu Dhabi was due to land in approximately forty five minutes. Heart pounding, I crossed my fingers tightly in the hope he wouldn’t be diverted to another airport, our planned meet up becoming another unfulfilled promise. A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed back disappointment. Why couldn’t life ever seem to go in my favour? 

A few of the international tourists around me began to crouch down against the floor, worried expressions on their faces. What were these people doing? A bomb hadn’t gone off and neither was there sign of fire, so why crouch against the dirty, grey carpeted floor?
 

I glanced towards my white linen skirt, totally inappropriate for
UK spring weather but showing off my tanned legs to their full potential. There was no chance I would risk ruining my clean appearance by allowing my skirt within inches of the grubby carpet. I crossed my arms defiantly and remained standing, feeling ridiculously like a goddess amongst worshippers. 

The klaxon abruptly stopped and a burly man in a luminous orange visor took to a platform nearby. Static blasted from speakers around me.

'Ladies and Gentlemen we apologise for any distress caused to you at this time. Please be advised there is no, I repeat no, imminent threat at this airport. The situation has been resolved and is now under the instruction of the Metropolitan Police. We thank you for your co-operation and kindly ask you to continue with your journey.'

A great wave of relief and applause swept through the hall, as people rose up and began dusting off their clothing and chatting with neighbouring strangers. My heart fluttered as I bit down nervously on my lip. So I would be seeing Edward as planned. Grinning to myself excitedly, I picked up my holdall.

The queue started to filter forward as the Italian woman in front of me turned around and patted down her child's head. 

'Grazie Dio!' she exclaimed, breathing out dramatically.
 

I politely shrugged, replying 'Si.'

Did she think I was Italian? Over the past two weeks I had been mistaken on almost every occasion for being Spanish. Although it frustrated me as my skill of the language was limited, I had quite enjoyed the prospect of appearing Mediterranean. It was complimentary that I hadn’t fallen into the pasty skinned, lager lout Briton bracket. 

Glancing at my mobile, the screen remained blank. No calls yet from Edward. He'd be landing within the next half an hour and I still had to collect my luggage and find a place to freshen up.

Ten minutes later I had finally made it to the front of the queue. I cautiously stepped towards the clerk desk.

'Passport please' said a thin, tired looking man who clearly disliked his job.
 

I handed over my passport on the correct page, grimacing at the sight of the small photo. Taken six years previous, it had been during a stage that pencilled eyebrows and a large pencilled mole had been a fashionable look.
  Whoever had decided to term a mole a 'beauty spot', had unwittingly caused me to spend the best part of five months looking like a bug had flown into my face, and splattered itself above my lip.

'OK' the man said handing me back my passport and gesturing me past.
  

Heading straight towards baggage reclaim to collect my case, my palms were sweaty at the knowledge that Edward's flight was due to land soon. I had less than twenty minutes to make myself look presentable.

I found an unoccupied toilet as soon as I entered the arrivals lounge and set about my transformation. The soap dispenser was unsurprisingly empty but a quick rummage in my hand luggage produced a small bottle of travel shampoo. Not ideal but better than only water.

Stripping off my top that smelt distinctly of aeroplane, I leaned over the sink in my bra to shampoo my upper half. The tiny Chinese cleaner mop
ping the floor of the far cubicle eyed me peculiarly as I soaped my armpits. Ignoring her, I rinsed and dried myself before removing my make-up with a wipe. 

Knowing that I’d have to be quick in order to wash and change outfits before my meeting with Edward, I had pre packed clean jeans and a white fitted t shirt on the top of my hand luggage. Enough to look sexy but also simple enough to appear that I had spent a plane journey wearing it.
  

I lightly applied fresh make-up and liberally sprayed myself with a delicate perfume. Finally I let down my hair, tying it back again carefully in a neater manner.

Standing back, I observed myself in the mirror. I looked fresh and pretty. I most certainly did not look as if I had spent three torturous hours squashed into a cattle class flight, with no replenishment other than a powdery coffee and finger sized malt biscuit. 

'Look nice. Better' the tiny Chinese lady said, appearing from behind me, nodding her head fast and giving me a much needed confidence boost.
Uncharacteristically I leaned forward and hugged her.

'Thank you.' I gushed sincerely, as she once again eyed me peculiarly and backed away awkwardly from my embrace.
 

By my calculation, Edward would have landed ten minutes ago, which gave me just enough time to make my way to Café Zero and secure a table. My heart started to pound hard with every step I took towards my destination. He'd be calling anytime soon to say he's landed.

I looked down at my handbag incredulously as my phone started to ring from deep inside. Fishing around quickly for my mobile, my mouth became dry as his name flashed across the screen. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the answer key.

'Hey.' I said brightly and a little too zealously. What had happened to my plan to play my cards close to my chest? At this rate I'd be declaring my love to him by the time we'd sat down. His voice sounded tired and rushed through the phone.
 

'Hey babe, I'm here. Awful flight. I'm just about to collect my bag and will be with you in ten – OK?'

'Yes OK, I’m here already, I’ll have you a coffee waiting.' I was careful to sound normal, my overenthusiastic tone replaced with reserved caution.

'Thanks babe, see you in a bit.' We rang off and I stared at the phone screen. The moment I'd been waiting for had arrived.

A strange calmness and sense of peace had been restored within me. Whatever fate had in store, I was prepared for it. Be it with Edward or without him.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Café Zero was ideal for a chat. It had comfortable secluded leather booths and a menu filled with Italian delights. I ordered two coffees and chose a free booth in the corner, sitting down anxiously.
 

In my heart I knew the feelings I had for Edward were far from a crush. I was on a slippery slope. If the outcome of our chat over coffee meant that I wouldn’t be seeing him again, it would be hard not to feel crushed.

Through a throng of people, I spotted him walking towards the café, my stomach doing its usual flip and my heartbeat picking up pace. Messy hair, dark circles around his eyes and a thinner appearance gave him an unkempt look. His creased, incorrectly buttoned shirt flapped open at the bottom as he walked towards me. His usual perfectionist self, a far cry from the unruly image I was studying. He glanced around the booths and finally his eyes rested on where I was sat. His face breaking into a luminous smile, he bounded over as I stood up to greet him.

'Hello gorgeous' he said immediately
, pulling me towards him and kissing me passionately. I didn’t have time to hesitate as he wrapped his strong arms around me tightly and his lips locked onto mine. A wave of electric coursed through my body as my eyes closed and we kissed, every nerve ending going into overdrive. Seconds passed and he gently broke free from me and still holding me, stared down at my face.

'I've been waiting over two weeks to do that' he said smiling. I was spellbound. Unable to move my eyes away from his or remove the tell tale grin
on my face. The Edward drug was overflowing within me. I bit down hard on my lip, hoping to snap myself out of it. 

'Sit down' he ordered, his smile just as luminous as his eyes swept across me in delight. I did as I was told and watched as he stacked his bags neatly out of the way and slid into the booth facing me.
 

The waitress approached with our coffees.
Grateful for the distraction, I waited for the flushed feeling that was still lingering through me, to subside.

'Perfect timing -
I haven’t had a decent cup of coffee since I left Spain this morning.' The waitress set down the steaming cup in front of me and I felt a great sense of contentment. Here I was with Edward and a hot cup of mocha latte. Life was good.

Edward was watching me intently. Reaching across the table for my hand, he took it gently within his.

'Babe, I'm sorry I've not been in touch. I've had a hell of a few weeks and I didn’t want to drag you into it all. I thought it best it I stayed away until things calmed down.' He was searching my eyes, a pleading look in his own. 

I s
hifted uncomfortably in my seat, so enraptured by his look of pleading that I didn’t dare speak; I needed to hear what he had to say, not trusting myself to be critical enough.

'As I had to be abroad for a couple of weeks, and knowing you were in Spain with no chance of us meeting, I thought it would be best to explain in person, when things were clearer' his eyes looked pained. I was aware of his hand sweating against mine. My stomach began to knot. This didn’t sound good. I pushed my coffee away, uneasy.

'Edward, what's going on? You're making me nervous. I won’t pretend I'm happy that you just vanished and didn’t get in contact. But you look different. You look tired - are you ill?' I asked concerned. 

Things were starting to add up; the conversation, his appearance.... I silently prayed that it wasn’t anything life threatening. I had only just met him. How cruel could life be to take him away so soon. He put down his cup and shook his head.

'Lizzie, I have a daughter.' He said it slowly, waiting for my reaction. I stared at him blankly waiting for him to continue. His voice cracked slightly.

'Well, I’ve only just found out I have a daughter. She's six. Her name is Maddie.'
  

I sat transfixed, shocked for him.
 

'You mean to tell me that you didn’t know until a few weeks ago that Maddie existed?' I said, my eyes widening and my grip on his hand tightening in support. He looked crestfallen. My heart went out to him.

'No. I had no idea. Her mother was someone I dated briefly whilst I was working in Manchester on a temporary project. It wasn’t anything serious. She was the one that ended it. She told me she wasn’t ready for commitment. How ironic' his tone was bitter. He was clearly hurt and baffled by the situation.

'She rang me out of the blue shortly after my picnic with you. Said she needed to meet me urgently. It was something in her voice that made me take notice. We met and she told me I have a daughter. Said she didn’t feel it necessary to tell me until now.' He snarled as he spoke the words. I could feel his anger. How selfish of this woman to deny a father the existence of his own child.

'Have you met her - Maddie?' I asked tentatively. Edward’s eyes softened immediately, his face lighting up. 

'Yes
, she's perfect. A real little princess. She even called me Daddy.' He smiled as he recalled aloud the two days he had spent with her before his trip.

'It’s funny, I’ve only known her for eighteen days, but now I couldn’t imagine my life without her.' He shook his head in disbelief.
 

I squeezed his hand reassuringly, my heart swelling with love. This man had spent two weeks in turmoil having just found out he had a six year old daughter. I had spent the very same two weeks thinking the worst of him for not calling me. Feeling ashamed of myself, I apologised.

'I'm sorry I doubted you. I thought you didn’t want to know me.' 

He smiled softly, reassuringly. 'It's not your fault
, Lizzie. I should have contacted you to explain the situation but I couldn’t find the words to talk about it over the telephone. I’m so relieved at your reaction' he said, leaning himself across to kiss me gently again on the lips.

'What do you mean by relieved? Did you expect me to walk away purely because you have a daughter now?'
 

I heard myself say the words and realised their significance. Edward had a daughter. Any relationship that developed between us would now include a third party. I mentally wondered if I could handle the situation. Someone else's child, perhaps becoming partly my responsibility. Maddie was six though. That meant no nappy changes, bottle feeds or sleepless nights. Surely a six year old girl would love dolls, make-up and clothes. I could do this. I could easily do this. Edward spoke and my attention was averted back to our conversation.

‘I just didn’t know if it would be too much to expect of you. Thanks for being so supportive, babe.’ I could tell from the way he was looking at me, I wasn’t the only one to feel my stomach flip.

We sat for another hour, ordering food and chatting about Maddie, before moving on to Edward's trip to the Middle East and
Asia. I wasn’t that interested in most of what he was saying about acquisition and restructuring out there. Yet looking at how animated he became when he talked of his work, was enough for me.

I was careful not to mention the hotel launch in
Spain, as I didn’t want Edward knowing the full details of my work. Especially since he was falsely under the impression I worked as Marketing Manager for one of the UK's largest travel companies. It would be embarrassing to have to put him straight. It would also mean explaining about my being sacked from my banking role. Not to mention spending four months finding a new job so basic it barely paid my bills. There had to be a more appropriate time to be honest. Now wasn't that moment.

Instead I filled him in on the personal side of my trip, explaining about my mother and Sampson. Bringing Mark into the conversation accidentally, I noticed Edward's face cloud over questioningly. I smiled reassuringly. There was no need for Edward to know about my recent interactions with Mark. I felt my face flash a sudden hot deep red at this memory. Edward stopped talking.

'Are you OK? You're really flushed' he asked concerned, his eyebrows furrowing.

Waving my hand in front of my face to cool myself down, I laughed lightly.

‘Hot flush - must be the coffee. So where are you off to this afternoon?' I said, changing the subject, cross with myself.

Despite the briefness of our meet up, I felt relieved our travel plans had coincided or else I wouldn’t have seen him for at least another couple of days.

'I’ve got to head to Dublin for a meeting with a potential investor. It's only a short two day trip. To be honest, I'm looking forward to it being over and getting back to London.' I looked at his face as he said this, registering his tiredness, and agreed.

'
Dublin is supposed to be lovely' I said, thinking of the glossy brochure we had in the office on Ireland getaways. Edward looked at me strangely and his eyes twinkled. 

'Come with me' he said excitedly. I looked up in shock.
 

'Come with you?' Are you mad, I’ve only just got back myself. Work is busy. I can’t just swan off to
Ireland for a couple of days' I said laughing. 

He had invited me to go to
Ireland with him. My mind was racing with questions. What did this mean? Should I go? Would we sleep together? His voice interrupted my thoughts.

'Just ring in work and tell them you're ill. It's Thursday anyway. You'll only be missing tomorrow and by Monday you'll be back. Come on Lizzie, live a little' he joked looking at me hopefully, anticipation written across his face.

My insides were dancing. I couldn’t think of anything I’d like more than to spend a weekend with Edward.  I had to play it cool though. I didn’t want him to think I wasn't used to men randomly whisking me away on the spur of the moment. 

'Oh
, OK I suppose I could then.' I kept my voice even, trying to appear as unfazed as possible. ‘I need a flight though and I don’t really have appropriate clothing with me.’ Ireland wasn’t exactly Spain.  Even at a push I was doubtful I could get away with diamanté flats and white linen shorts. 

Edward looked over at my extra large suitcase propped up against the next booth.

'Lizzie, I think you have more than enough clothes. Leave the flight with me. Give me your passport and I’ll be back in a bit' he said standing up and holding out his hand. 

Eagerly I searched in my bag and produced by passport, squirming with embarrassment as he checked the photo page, smiling to himself.

As soon as he was out of sight, I excitedly called Mel. She'd already texted me twice since I'd landed and was desperate to know the outcome of my meeting. 

Mel answered on the first ring. I briefed her quickly on the situation trying to ignore the elaborate gasps and shocked intakes of breath.
 

'He's taking you to
Ireland with him?!' My goodness Lizzie, he's keen. Let me know how he is in bed. Don't forget, reserve all judgement until the deed is done. That has to be the catch with him, a small one. Remember though, it's not the size, it's what they do with it that counts' she said in a serious tone. I laughed.

'Well you'd know all about that
, wouldn’t you?' I retorted, referring to our private joke about her relationship with 'Little Liam'. She huffed sarcastically.

'Ha-bloody-ha
, funny woman. Right, I’ll let you go as I am meeting a client now. Have fun honey and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.' She blew kisses down the phone and hung up.

Edward had been gone five minutes already and I didn’t want to waste time beating about the bush.
It was time to call Ronnie.

Hands shaking, I dialled his direct line. As the phone began to ring, I desperately hoped it would go to voicemail so I could leave a message. It
was always so much easier to feign illness to the voicemail than the boss. Ronnie answered on the third ring and my heart sank. 

Putting on my best sick voice, I explained the holdup at passport control whilst Ronnie listened sympathetically, before beginning to talk work. Trying to sound engaged in the conversation, I allowed myself to add the odd cough and sniffle throughout.
 

Five minutes into the call he finally picked up on my supposed illness and despite my reassurances that I would be OK, insisted I take a long weekend to rest.
My weak attempt to argue 'no' was cut short as I heard him beginning to falter. I quickly agreed that it was best I return to work on the Monday in optimum health, before wrapping up the conversation.

I hesitantly placed my mobile on the table in front of me. Was I doing the right thing? Lying to my boss and involving myself with a man that had everything a woman could ask for.

My mother had always warned me of men that appeared too good to be true. She often said they were the ones who would not only break a woman's heart, but break her soul. Then again, this was the same woman that had told me never to trust a man with brown shoes. If her track record was anything to go by, then I was probably best to ignore any advice she gave.

Stopping myself from over thinking the situation, I signalled to the waitress for another drink. She brought me the freshly squeezed orange within minutes of my request and I sipped the refreshing liquid and thought about two whole days with Edward.
 

Strangely, the fact I didn’t have appropriate clothing, underwear or hair supplies for Irish weather didn’t bother me. All I could think about was getting to know Edward better.