Little Lady Agency and The Prince (47 page)

‘Online. In some internet war game. She was playing the role of a biological warfare specialist in his invasion force, and Roger was being an embedded journalist with unexpected hand-to-hand martial arts skills.’

‘And romance blossomed over the grenade fire?’ I said, trying to picture it.

‘Apparently so. Got to the point where Zara wouldn’t go into battle without Roger – or, Troy Absolom, as I suppose we should call him – at her side.’

‘Right . . .’

‘Anyway, they got chatting while that night’s raid was held up after the troop commander was stuck in detention in Idaho Falls, and it turned out she lived in Kennington. So they met up one evening, and the rest, as they say, is history.’

‘That’s amazing,’ I said, turning in my seat. Nelson was parking the Range Rover now outside the house, with heartbreaking precision. He scorned parking sensors. I opened and shut my mouth like a goldfish.

‘Means there’s hope for me yet, eh?’ he joked.

Like an idiot, I leaped into the opening. ‘You’re a wonderful, eligible man,’ I gushed. ‘You’re bound to find someone, someone who’ll really make you happy. That’s what you
deserve
. A friend, and a lover, and a . . .’

He gave me a funny look. ‘Steady on, Mel. Anyone would think you were applying for the position yourself.’

I braced myself. ‘I am.’

The engine ticked as it cooled down. Nelson’s brow furrowed. ‘Sorry?’

‘I want to make you happy. I’ve been so stupid, not realising until now how I really felt about you, but now I
know
. I want to be more than just your friend, Nelson – I want to—’

‘Don’t,’ he said, holding up a hand. ‘Don’t say anything else.’

I thought he meant ‘there’s no need for words’, as in ‘let me sweep you soundlessly into my arms for a Hollywood kiss’, and closed my eyes, ready.

But apparently he didn’t mean that.

At all.

‘I know it’s been a bit of a fantasy weekend, Mel, but we’re back in London now,’ he said awkwardly, and then laughed, even more awkwardly.

My eyes snapped open. ‘What? Quite the opposite,’ I stammered. ‘It’s as if everything’s suddenly really clear. I saw you on the boat and I realised that I’ve been completely blind – you and I . . . we’re meant to be together. You’re the perfect man for me!’

Nelson said nothing, but he pressed his lips together, which was the first sign of polite annoyance.

‘What?’ I demanded. ‘You might say something.’

‘What do you want me to say? What
can
I say – you
suddenly realised
, after splitting up with your fiancé, who you still haven’t properly got over, while on the
yacht of the playboy
who’s been flirting outrageously with you for the past few months, that actually, scrub those two, it was
me
you really wanted?’

‘There’s no need to make it sound so . . .’

Nelson undid his seat belt. ‘I’m not some kind of comfy crash mat you can rebound onto, you know.’

‘It’s not rebound!’ I insisted. ‘It’s just . . . delayed realisation!’

‘Come on, Mel,’ he sighed. ‘We’ve been here before, remember? When you thought Jonathan didn’t fancy you, except when you were dressed up as Honey? You can’t just use me as someone to take your mind off feelings you should be dealing with!’

‘I’m not!’

‘How do you think that makes me feel?’ he went on. ‘I’ve got feelings too, you know.’

‘I know! That’s just it!’ I struggled to find the words. ‘I always saw you as a teddy bear, not as a man with real feelings and now I do it’s . . .’

‘Teddy bear,’ said Nelson flatly. ‘Cheers.’

I stared at him in horror. This was going so badly awry I had no idea how to get it back on track. Whatever I said now was going to sound wrong, even though it was absolutely right in my head. Hot tears of shock and embarrassment and mortification sprang into my eyes.

Nelson saw them, and –
because he was such a nice man
– he softened, and patted me on the knee. Like you would your sister. ‘Look, Melissa, you know you mean the world to me. And, actually . . . it’s very flattering. You’re a charming, beautiful woman, and I’d walk over hot coals for you. But what sort of bastard would I be if I took advantage of you when you’re obviously still getting over Jonathan?’

‘I’m
over
Jonathan!’ I wailed. ‘The reason I could never have made things work with him is because I wanted him to be you! Because you are
every single thing
that he’s not!’

He grimaced and stared out of the windscreen. The hot summer had frazzled the leaves on the tree next to the flat. Everything looked very grey and dirty after the ice-cream-coloured extravagance of Monaco.

‘Melissa, you’ve spent the past year trying to fit me up with your friends. If that’s reverse psychology or something, it’s a lot of game-playing I just don’t want to get into. I’ve lived with you and your awful magazines in the loo long enough to know that you have to give yourself time to get over little hitches like broken engagements. Come on,’ he said, opening his door. ‘Let’s get in and have a cup of tea. It’s been quite a weekend, what with one thing and another.’

I stared after him, my stomach feeling as if I’d swallowed a lead weight.

Nelson leaned back into the car. He looked like the familiar, cheerful Nelson I’d grown up with, and yet not. I wasn’t sure if he could ever be that Nelson again to me now.

‘Come on,’ he said gently. ‘We’re old enough friends to have the occasional brain fade. I won’t hold it against you. Fancy a curry for supper?’

I forced a smile onto my face. ‘I think I’ll pop round to Gabi’s actually,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Gabi’s advice was straightforward.

‘You’ll just have to make him see you as a woman, not his flatmate,’ she said.

My expression must have looked suitably aghast, because she topped up my glass without even asking.

‘You were shocked when you suddenly saw him as a potential date – Nelson’ll just have to be shocked too,’ she elaborated. ‘I don’t see why it should be such a big deal – everyone else seems to fall in love with you easily enough when you put on that tight skirt and start bossing them around.’

‘It’s not as easy as that,’ I moaned. ‘He
has
seen me all dolled up – Nelson’s seen me at work often enough.’ I downed half the wine in my glass, and glared at her balefully. ‘
You
said he was in love with me all along.
You
said . . . More wine, please.’

Gabi gently removed the glass from my hands. ‘Mel, hon, don’t you think he might have a point about you giving yourself some time to get over Jonathan? It’s only been a few months.’

‘Oh . . . I suppose so. But, to be honest, Gabi, I’m not half as miserable about Jonathan as I thought I would be.’ I looked up at her. ‘I do miss him, but it’s more “I wonder what he’s up to?” Or “Wouldn’t it be great to try that restaurant?” Not “My life is now completely rubbish and it’s because he’s not here with me!” Like I’d miss a really good friend. I did
mean
it when I said I hoped we’d be friends.’

‘Have you heard from him since you . . . since you and Nelson went over to collect your things?’ she asked carefully.

‘Not really. We’ve decided to give each other some space, you know, to move on a bit.’ Not that I’d managed to move very far. ‘I rang him last week, actually, to ask if he’d found some jewellery I left, but I got Solange. He must have been out with a client. She was pretty frosty with me,’ I added. ‘She’s probably taken agin me, like a good PA. But then, I suppose I have been pretty mean to Jonathan. I’ve been pretty stupid all round . . .’

Gabi grabbed my hands, but I couldn’t stop the tears pouring out, even when she wrapped her arms round me and pressed my head into her chest.

I couldn’t distract myself any more, and the events of the past few months replayed themselves in my head, crashing into each other like runaway train carriages; Jonathan, Paris, arguing with Daddy, messing things up with Nelson . . . It was as if everything I’d managed to build up in the last few years had never happened, and I was right back to where I’d started: single, stressed out, being made a fool of by everyone, but most of all, by myself.

All I had was Nelson, but he didn’t see me the way I saw him, and probably never would now. How on earth had I missed an own goal like that?

‘Poor Mel,’ soothed Gabi, as my tears dripped onto her new velvet sofa (engagement present from Aaron). ‘You’ve had a rotten few months. Can’t you just cancel your appointments this week and go off somewhere? I’ll come with you, if you want. You need some time away from everyone else, to concentrate on you, and what you want.’

It wasn’t such a bad idea, and for a moment I did briefly toy with the notion of me and Gabi jetting off to Vegas, or Disneyworld, somewhere I’d only have to eat, not think. But wasn’t there was a reason I couldn’t just pull a sickie? What was it?

Bertie’s christening – and nanny-related issues arising.

I really
was
back where I started.

‘I bloody can’t!’ I wailed. ‘I’ve got to help Emery organise this christening, if she doesn’t decide to cancel it again.
And
help her get shot of Nanny Adolf.
And
help Nicky sort out his stupid blackmail problems.’

‘Blackmail problems?’ Gabi’s eyes widened.

Sniffing, I gestured towards my handbag, out of reach by Gabi’s foot. She passed it to me and I reached into its depths and pulled out a huge white hanky. It was one of Nelson’s, and it smelled of him: Pears soap, and shirt-collar starch, and a hint of old Range Rover. That set off my crying again.

Gabi hugged me. ‘Sometimes, Mel, I think you need a PA of your own, you know. Someone who’ll say no for you. If you don’t start saying no, I’m going to.’ She lifted my head. ‘Give me your Rolodex and I’ll cancel all your clients
and
your family.’

There was something in her fierce expression that warmed my heart. OK, so at least I had a friend like Gabi. That was one positive thing, out of three. I’d find another two.

I don’t know how I got through the next few days, really. Nelson was making a determined effort to act as if nothing had happened, but it was impossible. Now my eyes had been opened, I realised I’d never wanted anyone more. And the fact that he was behaving so decently about it only rubbed that in further.

Even working didn’t help. Emery called, after I spent three days sourcing ‘the right kind of fruit cake’, to tell me Bertie’s christening had moved dates again, because William’s mother had found out Princes Alexander and Nicolas of Hollenberg would be attending and had booked herself in for some emergency lipo.

Good job, really, since Emery hadn’t got round to doing much more than writing out the invitations I’d sent her. When I phoned round to finalise the numbers, she’d only done half and wanted to recall ten of those.

‘Emery,’ I said, when I called her to check how things were going, ‘are you sure you haven’t changed your invite list? Uncle Gilbert didn’t even know you’d
had
a baby.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Pretty sure. Unless Daddy’s been nicking the invitations to invite extra people. I did think the pile had got a bit low, you know. Has he told you he’s asked his publishers to come? They think it’s going to be a Cheese Diet reception!’

‘How many?’ I asked, looking aghast at the catering quote. It was for fifty people, tops, and didn’t feature cheese that heavily. If Daddy wanted cheese and pineapple hedgehogs he’d have to make them himself.

‘I don’t know . . . ten? And there’s the WI too.’

‘What?’

‘Mummy’s asked the WI. To say thank you for helping her knit her animals for that last big exhibition. I think they’re going to bring some cakes, if that helps . . .’

‘You know she’ll be in trouble if the press discover she’s tendering out her artworks,’ I said, jabbing at my calculator to see how far fifteen plates of sandwiches could go. Not far enough, unless Jesus was in the Little Swillbridge WI. ‘I’m going to have to ring the caterers, Em. So you’d better tell me right now if there’s any advance on eighty people.’

She paused.

‘Come on,’ I said testily. ‘Remember what happened at your wedding, when you forgot to count in Uncle Tybalt’s wife and kids and they had to sit on the stage with the band?’

‘It’s not that, I just thought I heard that bloody woman,’ she hissed. ‘She keeps that breast pump in her apron. I never know when she’s going to barge in and stick me with it! When are you going to deal with her, Mel? Because if you don’t do something soon, I swear I really am going to take matters into my own hands.’

In all the fuss, I’d almost forgotten about Nanny Ag.

‘Soon,’ I sighed. ‘Just let’s get the christening out of the way first. Any advance on October the fifteenth?’

‘Definitely October the fifteenth,’ Emery confirmed.

I wasn’t so sure. At this rate, Bertie would be christened shortly before his gap year.

24

The atmosphere in Nelson’s flat was now so strained that I knew something had to be done. We were both acting self-consciously, and I had only myself to blame. It was as though there was a gas leak in the flat, slowly poisoning us both and making us behave weirdly.

Besides, as Gabi counselled me, the best way for him to stop seeing me as his flatmate was to stop
being
his flatmate.

And so, with a heavy heart, I cleared out all the junk from my spare room at the office, and prepared to camp out there, until I could find a place of my own to rent. That was another good thing, I reminded myself: I was now officially a property owner, plus for once I had some cash in the bank. A massive cheque had arrived from Alexander’s office, accompanied by an even more humungous bouquet of flowers, thanking me for my efforts with Nicky, which had apparently greatly pleased the Hollenberg powers-that-be, with the Act due to be passed any day now.

I just prayed it would happen before I could think of a way to get Piglet talked round about those photos of Nicky.

I chose an evening when I was heading home for christening negotiations to break the news of my move to Nelson.