Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating (50 page)

A young woman, red-headed and beautiful, stood before her.

‘
You!
’ Audrey’s smile froze.

It was the woman who’d come to the agency: the one who’d barged in and demanded to see Alice. But what the hell was she doing here, in John’s house?

‘Where is he? Where’s John?’

‘He’s not in,’ the redhead answered curtly, looking Audrey up and down. Audrey had a sudden vision of herself, wild-haired with bloody tights. She puffed out her chest in defiance of the young woman’s neat figure and perfect skin.

But if this was the right place, then
who was she
? Why had she been at the agency? And why was she here now?

‘Who are you?’ she demanded.

The woman smirked. ‘John’s daughter.’

Audrey’s mouth fell open. ‘I didn’t know John had a daughter!’

‘Yeah, well, I expect there’s a lot you don’t know about him.’

Audrey was flummoxed. What should she say to this woman, this daughter – this future daughter-in-law?

‘Christ! You’re stalking him, aren’t you?’ The daughter suddenly laughed. ‘You’re
actually
stalking my dad!’

Audrey felt her neck flush.

‘Of course I’m not stalking him! What a ridiculous suggestion!’

‘So what are you doing here then? Clients aren’t supposed to come to the house.’

‘I’m not a client!’ Audrey bristled. ‘I’m . . . Your father and I are . . .’

‘. . . are nothing!’ the daughter said sternly. ‘You’re a business arrangement, that’s all.’

Her words stung Audrey’s cheeks. How dare she? The impudence of it! She drew back her shoulders; it was time to pull rank.

‘Look, young lady. I’m in a rush. It’s vitally important that I speak to John, without delay. Tell me where he is. He’ll be most displeased by your obstruction.’

‘I doubt that!’

Audrey nearly cried out in frustration. How could this daughter not see how important it was? She wanted to reach over the doorstep and shake her to make her understand.

‘This is urgent. Critical! I have to speak to him
now
. Everything depends on it.’ She couldn’t believe she’d got so far – to John’s very front door – still to be denied. ‘I have to see him. I
have
to!’

But the daughter didn’t move. She just stood on the doorstep with her arms crossed. And yet, something had changed in the way she was looking at her. She seemed to be weighing something up.

‘OK,’ she said suddenly. ‘This has gone on long enough. Someone has to put you out of your misery, and it might as well be me. He’s at Beckwith’s.’

‘The restaurant?’

‘The very same.’

Audrey hurtled back down the garden path. As she regained the pavement she remembered the daughter. It was probably best to keep on her good side; they’d be seeing a lot more of each other in the future.

‘Thank you, young lady,’ she called out.

But the front door was already closed.

Audrey ignored her painful heel and limped back into the city centre, her mind whirring. After the horror of the Dating Practitioners’ Society meeting, not only had she had the double bombshells of John giving up escorting
and
having a daughter, but she’d just found out he was dining
in the most romantic restaurant in town. But why would he do that if he wasn’t with a client? And why hadn’t he come to visit her now that he was free?

A bus whizzed past but she made no attempt to catch it. She’d made it this far on leg power and shoe leather, so she’d make it all the way.

She was close to the bright lights of the city centre now, only a few streets away from Beckwith’s. She tried to slow down so that her cheeks could return to their normal shade, but her feet wouldn’t let her. She felt the gravity of John pulling her in. It was as though he was her twin magnet and she was powerless to fight the strength of his attraction. She’d waited so many years for this; how could she delay a moment longer?

And then she was climbing the steps to Beckwith’s. The foyer was bright and busy, but Audrey didn’t notice. She didn’t see the receptionist approach to ask if she had a reservation. She just saw the archway into the dining area and she glided towards it, a bright light at the end of a long dark tunnel.

And then she was in the restaurant, her eyes sweeping across the diners in search of the man she loved.

And then she found him. Laughing. His beautiful blue eyes crinkling in the way they always did, making Audrey draw in her breath and buckle at the knees. And he was picking up a bottle – his hand so strong and familiar – and pouring a glass of wine. Somebody else’s glass of wine. And then Audrey’s eyes took in a figure seated opposite him. It was a woman. A woman in a backless dress.

‘Can I help you, madam?’

A waiter had stepped in front of her, blacking out her vision like an eclipse. Entranced, Audrey stepped aside and the lights came back on and John and the woman swam into focus again.

‘I’m looking for my husband,’ she murmured.

Silently, as though in a dream, Audrey moved towards John’s table. He hadn’t seen her yet, hadn’t sensed her presence. He was smiling at the woman in the backless dress, listening rapt to something she was saying. And as the woman spoke, she tucked her hair behind her ear, and a long, dangling earring glinted as it caressed the skin of her neck. Her bare back looked radiant, cashmere-soft in the candlelight. But still Audrey glided on.

And then John began to move. At first Audrey thought it was towards her, that he’d seen her at last. But he was gently leaning across the table, taking the face of the woman in his hands and slowly, ever so slowly, moving towards her to kiss her lips. As John’s lips touched the woman’s Audrey cried out, a high-pitched yelp of pain. John’s eyes flew towards her and he pulled back in surprise, his face full of shock. And as if in slow motion, the woman looked at John and then turned to see what he saw. And as she moved her earring sparkled, and then her eyes were on Audrey and Audrey’s eyes were on her.

Audrey gasped.

It was Alice.

The world went silent.

All she could hear was her own heart beating, and

then the slow arrival of John’s words, as though through water.

‘Audrey! What are you doing here?’

Audrey felt her mouth open and close, but no sound came out. She looked at John. She couldn’t look at Alice. She couldn’t look at the sophisticated beauty that mousy, cardiganed Alice had become. Alice the dreamer. Alice the waste of space. She couldn’t look at
this
Alice sitting here with
her
John.

‘I’m so, so sorry, Audrey.’ The words came from Alice’s direction.

But still Audrey couldn’t remove her eyes from John. His shock was subsiding now. His face was regaining its composure.

‘John?’ Audrey thought she heard her own voice ask.

His face softened, and his mouth began to take a shape of kindness. For a brief moment Audrey thought he was going to tell her that everything was OK, that this was just a horrible misunderstanding.

‘This isn’t how we planned to tell you,’ he said kindly. ‘But maybe it’s for the best.’

Audrey blinked. John’s face was swimming out of vision and she wasn’t sure why. Something was getting in the way of her seeing, flooding her eyes. It was getting harder to breathe. She’d been stabbed. Nobody had moved, but somebody, unseen, had taken a knife and plunged it between her ribs and was carving it up towards her heart.

And then her feet started to move and she was rushing through the foyer, down the steps and into the night. She
collided with someone at street level and briefly felt the heat of their body. She thought she heard someone call out her name. But then that too receded behind her as her bloodstained suedette shoes carried her off in the direction of home.

Kate was quietly thrilled by the small but regular contraception risks she and Tommy were now taking. She knew she should be sensible; it was still early days for their relationship. But she just couldn’t help herself. And neither, it seemed, could Tommy.

Take tonight, for instance, she told herself. They’d both been desperate to see the latest cop blockbuster at the cinema. But halfway through the movie, cuddled as closely as a chair arm and a jumbo box of popcorn would allow, Tommy had suddenly leaned in excitingly close and whispered hotly in her ear, ‘I want you.’

Exactly sixty seconds later Kate had found herself locked inside a toilet cubicle, pinned to the partition wall. The box of popcorn tumbled to the floor, spilling out its sugary cargo like a cliché in a steamy B-movie as Kate surrendered to the moment. She briefly wished Lou could see her. Her eyes would probably pop out of her head. The Kate that Lou knew – the old Kate – would never have had sex in the ladies’ loo at the local cinema, she thought deliciously. The old Kate wouldn’t have made it to the cinema at all; she’d
still be at her desk, writing and rewriting press releases until they reached the height of literary perfection.

‘I’m going to come,’ Tommy suddenly breathed in her ear.

Kate felt him begin to pull away from her. Firmly but gently she pushed his buttocks back into position and held them there.

‘It’s OK,’ she whispered, feeling a dangerous tingle of adrenalin.

‘You sure?’ Tommy paused, drawing back his head to check. ‘Isn’t it a risk?’

Kate resisted the temptation to answer him honestly: that the risk was the most exciting part of all, and that if she should suddenly find herself impregnated by this gorgeous, rebellious, rugged man who didn’t care about working his way up some pointless career ladder and who made her tummy flip and her breath go short every time she saw him, then that would be the sexiest thing imaginable.

‘It’s an OK time of the month,’ she panted. ‘Just fuck me!’ And she pulled him hard to her, barely registering that the old Kate would never have used the F-word like that.

Afterwards it was far too late to go back into the cinema and watch the rest of the film. Besides, car chases and explosions had lost their thrill.

‘I know what I want to do,’ Tommy said as they left the cinema and reached the cooler night air. He tucked Kate’s hand protectively under his arm.

‘What?’ she murmured dewily as she looked up at him.
Although she knew that technically she’d been truthful, it really was a safe part of the month (the old Kate still lived, and she’d scoured the NHS website that morning to look up which days in the cycle you couldn’t conceive), she still felt wonderfully reckless and unmistakably turned on by the significance of what had just happened. They’d wordlessly passed into new territory.

‘Go back to yours and pick up where we left off.’ He grinned mischievously. Kate felt herself squirm with delight. They set off in the direction of her flat.

‘We probably should get some condoms, just to be safe,’ she said sensibly, trying not to let the disappointment she felt at the prospect be audible in her voice.

‘Probably,’ agreed Tommy mildly. He stopped suddenly and took her in his arms. ‘Fuck it! You do know I’m crazy about you, don’t you, Kate?’

Kate’s heart leapt and time seemed to stand still. She looked up at him. He truly was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

They’d stopped outside an expensive-looking restaurant, and the soft lighting of the foyer spilled out into the street and lit up Tommy’s face.

‘What I’m trying to say is . . . I know we shouldn’t be stupid, but . . .’ And then he grinned. ‘You know me, Kate; I don’t like playing games – never fancied learning the rules. I know you’d tell me I’m supposed to wait a certain number of dates before I say this, and that the moon needs to be aligned with Jupiter and that you should be wearing emerald green, but sod it; I’m not a rules kind of guy. So
I’m just going to come out and say it. I love you, Kate. I love you, I love you, I love you!’

And so, in a place she’d never have selected, to a man she’d never have thought possible, and wearing something distinctly last season – but with a full four hundred and ninety-seven days to spare before her thirty-fifth birthday – Kate’s heart whizzed like a firework and she said those three magic words back. Well, eight, to be precise.

‘I love you, Tommy! I really, really do.’