Jill Mansell - Chapter 1

‘So you’re off then.’

‘I should be getting back.’ Thank God she wasn’t crying. ‘Sure you don’t have a chirpy ex-nun and seven caterwauling kids waiting for you at home?’

Gabe smiled briefly. ‘Trust me, all I have is a stroppy invalid waiting to give me an earful because she asked me to pick up a box of tea bags before I left the flat last night and I forgot.’

‘And you really don’t have another girlfriend waiting on the horizon?’

‘I really don’t.’

‘I just wasn’t right for you, is that it?’

‘Hey, you’ll be perfect for someone else. You know that.’ Gabe folded her into his arms and she clung to him.

Against his chest Savannah mumbled, ‘I just have to find someone who likes bald girls. Mr Spock, maybe:

‘Don’t think like that.’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘You’re beautiful with hair or without it. Be proud.’

She smiled. ‘I’ll do my best. And if I ever decide to go public, you can be the one to take the photos.’

Gabe gave her one last kiss. One last hug. ‘Sweetheart, it’d be an honour.’

Chapter

’I don’t believe it,’ cried Sally. ‘Another living breathing human being! After months of being marooned up here all alone, I finally have the chance to speak to someone – that’s if I can remember how to speak ...’

‘You’re doing just fine.’ Nick grinned up at her from the pavement. ‘Want to buzz me in?’

Did she want to buzz him in? Was he kidding? Hastily clonking through to the bathroom and slapping on a bit of powder and lipgloss, Sally clonked her way back through the flat and pressed the buzzer. Somewhat embarrassingly – but at the same time rather excitingly – she’d had a dream about Nick last night in which he’d taken her to the Summer Exhibition at the Royal Academy, flirted with her endlessly and ended up showing her into a room containing a stunning sculpture of two life-sized bodies intertwined. Then, in front of all the other visitors milling about, he had begun to demonstrate exactly how the bodies were intertwined, whispering into her ear as he did so, ‘You bend your left leg like this and put your right arm around my waist like this ...’

Tap tap tap.

Nick was now knocking on the door. All of a fluster, Sally fast-forwarded through the rest of the dream, where he’d started kissing her and running his hands over her body and a stroppy uniformed security guard had stomped up and announced that they couldn’t do that sort of thing here and Nick had said, ‘But, it’s art ...’

‘Sally? Have you fallen over in there?’

‘Sorry.’ She opened the door, let him in. ‘I was just having a quick tidy-up.’

Which was so ragingly obviously untrue, it was a wonder a thunderbolt didn’t strike her dead on the spot. But Nick, ever the gentleman, simply greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and said cheerfully, ‘How are you?’

‘Fed up. I feel like Robinson Crusoe. Gabe buggered off Yesterday, God only knows where because he won’t tell me, and Lola’s gone out for the day with EJ. Gabe was supposed to pick up some tea bags yesterday but he didn’t, so I went all the way to the corner shop on my crutches ...

and when I got there they were shut! So then I had to hobble what felt like fifty miles down the road to the next shop and when I finally got there, they didn’t even sell PG Tips, only horrible cheap tea bags that taste of dust. I tell you, I’m so fed up with this stupid leg of mine I just want to chop it off.

‘Oh dear.’ Nick was doing his best to keep a straight face.

‘And I’ve got blisters on my hands from using the stupid crutches.’ He was wearing his navy cashmere crew-neck sweater over a white shirt and cream chinos. With a jolt Sally realised that he’d been wearing the same sweater last night in her dream ... well, until she’d pulled it off over his head.

‘So, not the best of days.’

‘You could say that.’ She broke into a smile to show she wasn’t a complete grump. ‘Not the best of weeks. See that?’

‘See what?’ Nick followed the direction of her gesturing hand.

‘That empty mantelpiece.’

He frowned. ‘It’s not empty. There’s loads of things on it. Fairy lights, photos, candles ...’

‘But no Valentine’s cards,’ said Sally. ‘That’s where I’d put my Valentine’s cards if I’d been sent any. But I haven’t been, so I couldn’t put them there. Because nobody sent me any. Not even one.’

‘I didn’t get any either.’

‘Didn’t you?’ Hooray for that. Mischievously she said, ‘Not even from Lola’s mum?’

Nick laughed. ‘Especially not from Blythe. It’s OK, I think Lola’s come round at last to the idea that she’s not going to get us back together. Sweet of her to try, but let’s face it, we’re poles apart. That Disney happy ending was never going to happen?

Better and better. Sally began joyfully concocting an alternative happy ending starring ... ta daa! ... herself.

‘Anyway, this is the reason I dropped by.’ Nick took a couple of rolled-up leaflets from his pocket. ‘Lola’s got it into her head that we should be taking up badminton, so I’ve been to look at a couple of sports centres. I can leave these with you or slide them under her door.’

All this way just to drop off a couple of leaflets? Was that true, or was he using it as an excuse to see her when he knew Lola wouldn’t be here?

‘Leave them with me. I’ll give them to her when she gets home. Where are you off to this afternoon? Somewhere nice, I expect. Having fun, meeting friends ...’

‘The truth? There’s an account I should be doing some work on, but to be honest I’m not in the mood.’ Pausing to study her for a moment, Nick said, ‘How about if I invited you out to lunch, would that cheer you up?’

‘Really? Are you sure?’ Sally was barely able to conceal her delight.

‘Why not? Decent food, a few drinks and good company.’ Nick’s grey eyes crinkled with amusement. ‘What could be nicer than that?’

This was everything she’d hoped for and more. Every nerve ending zinging with possibilities, Sally said, ‘I can be ready in ten minutes.’ God, talk about fate bringing together two people who were perfect for each other. What a fantastic day this was turning out to be.

Nick grew better and better looking as lunch progressed. By the time coffee arrived he was irresistible. The food had probably been good too but what with all the excitement and batting back and forth of scintillating one-liners interspersed with more deep and meaningful conversation, Sally hadn’t actually got around to eating much of it. Her stomach had shrunk to the size of a thimble and adrenaline production was in overdrive. It no longer mattered that Nick was Lola’s father because – thank God – he and Blythe had no intention whatsoever of getting back together. The hurdle had been removed as deftly as Paul Daniels might whisk away a card during a magic trick. And along with the hurdle, Sally felt her inhibitions disappearing too, possibly helped along by the bottle of wine she appeared to have played a large part in demolishing. Every time Nick topped up her glass and she half-heartedly protested, he reminded her that he was driving and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Which it most certainly would have been. And now she was bathed in a delicious, warm top-to-toe glow. Semi-accidentallybrushing her hand against his, Sally said, ‘So did you not want any more children or did it just never happen?’

Nick looked momentarily startled at this about-turn. OK, they had been in the middle of a conversation about killing time at airports when your flight’s been delayed, but she was interested. It was always a nice thing to know