Last Christmas (11 page)

Robbie decided to try a different tact. He had to remind her that she loved him still and that he loved her.

“Didn’t you miss me Ell?”

Ella sighed and looked at Robbie straight in the faces. There was no point in lying when the truth was so obvious. “Yes, I did,” she said soberly.

“Do you still love me?”

Ella looked down at her hands in her lap and played with the edge of her fur coat. He took her hands in his and held them tightly, offering them some much-needed warmth. Ella looked up at him. “How could I love somebody who left me?” she whispered wistfully.

“Oh Ella. I love you so much; I will spend the rest of my life loving you! I will spend the rest of my life making up this year to you! Can we go somewhere inside please? It’s doing us no good being out in the cold. Your hands are freezing. I understand why you don’t want to go anywhere with me but there’s still so much to say and you are going to freeze your beautiful bottom off if we sit here any longer.” He added the last comment with a cheeky chin. Ella had to hold back a smile. Robbie had always been obsessed with her bottom. When he saw that the comment momentarily melted her icy front he knew he couldn’t waste the opportunity. He needed to remind her how well he knew her, how good they were together. After all, he had knowledge of all her favourite theatres, restaurants, and landmarks on his side. That had to count for something.

“Let’s go and eat at
Sarastro
. Do you still love that place?”

Ella nodded involuntarily.

They walked to Drury Lane in silence. They took it in turns to look one another sheepishly and pretend that they hadn’t noticed each other’s stares. At one point Robbie had tried to hold Ella’s hand but she had cast it off quickly.

When they got to the restaurant, they were seated in a booth that was tucked away from other dinners.
Sarastro
was designed for after theatre dining; it described itself as
the
show
after
the
show
. The walls were lined with glittering props like Venetian masks and were painted with exuberant colours. The gold ceilings were adorned with low hanging lampshades and exotic music was being played live. Stepping inside was like stepping into an endless treasure cave of collected Venetian trinkets, or like walking onto the set of Phantom of the Opera. Ella, was glad that the maître d’ had placed them in a relatively intimate booth; she was thinking about the possibility of raising her voice with Robbie and she didn’t want it to be awkward if any other dinners were too close.

“You know, I’ve pictured your face every night before I go to sleep. But you are so much more striking in the flesh,” Robbie said, once they had sat down.

“Well I pictured your face every night and mentally stuck pins in it,” Ella said, the words escaping her before she had even noticed. “Sorry, that sounded gauche didn’t it? But as you can imagine, my thoughts about you haven’t exactly been very positive recently and I shouldn’t be the one apologising actually.”

“No, that’s fair enough.”

“So tell me Robbie, what was your new girlfriend like? You didn’t fancy bringing her back to England with you?” Ella asked with spite.

Robbie was shocked.

“I can see from your face that you didn’t think I knew about your yank. Word travels fast, even across the Atlantic Robert.”

Robert? Nobody but his mother calls him Robert!
Ella knew she was angry with him but saying Robert sounded so strange on her tongue. They had never been that formal together before. He had always been Robbie,
her
Robbie.

“Ella you must know that was just a distraction from the heartbreak,” he said as he pulled the menu towards him, pretending to read it.

“Mmhm and did that distraction help you figure out if you
wanted
the
same
things
as
me
?” she said quoting the words he used earlier.

He put the menu down. “Ella,” he said softly. “I can see how much I’ve hurt you and I’m sorry. The woman you’re referring to was never my girlfriend. She was just the tiniest of flings and it meant nothing. And yes, dating someone that wasn’t you did help me realise that I wanted the same things as you so …”

Her icy stare was back.

“Ella, you know I hate Americans! It was never anything serious!” he said trying to lighten the mood.

Just then, the waiter came over and recited the specials in his very best English accent. He smelt of salty onions and duck fat and he looked like he had used a little chip oil to slick back his greasy hair.

Ella ordered the
Confit
de
Canard
, not put off by his
odour
de
duck
, and Robbie ordered the Beef Bourguignon and a bottle of Rioja to accompany their meaty dishy. Robbie was very good with wine. Regrettably it was one of his many talents.

Before they had time to strike up the conversation again, the waiter had come back with their wine. He poured them two large glasses and Ella reminded herself not to drink too much, to stay in control.

It was Ella who spoke when the waiter left. She told Robbie what it was like when he had left her and how difficult it had been selling the house they owned together without him. She had liaised with his brother and the whole operation had been a nightmare. Robbie sat silently for the best part of forty minutes, listening patiently to Ella.

“The first six months were ghastly, the worst of my life. But, slowly the pain dulled and after six months the numbness disappeared. I started to do things for myself. I buried myself in my art and I bought my own flat.”

“Ella, that’s great you bought a house.”

“And now I’m seeing someone.”

“How long have you been together?”

Ella winced at the prospect of telling the truth. One week would sound ridiculous but she liked Fergus so much that saying
one
week
didn’t do their relationship justice. She felt so different when she was with Fergus and she didn’t want to belittle what had started between them.

“A while,” she replied. “He was at the exhibition.” They both took a swig of their wine and Ella realised that they had finished a bottle already. The main course still hadn’t come and Ella was started to feel flushed in her face.

Robbie called over the waiter, politely inquired to the whereabouts of their food and ordered another bottle of wine.

He turned back to Ella.

“Well, I’m happy for you.” Ella scrunched up her mouth and squinted her eyes. “Fuck it, of course I’m not happy for you. I want to be with you.”

“Ah, there’s that selfishness. It’s always about what
you
want. “

“Ella, I need to tell you more about the lead up to my decision to leave. That’s why I wanted to see you tonight. I wanted to apologise, then explain and then, well, we’ll get to the other reason later.” He edged a little closer to her in the booth so they were no longer on different edges of the table opposite each other but were on the same side, sitting side by side on the leather seat. Ella winced a little as he drew closer. Her physical reaction to his proximity didn’t go unnoticed but it was ignored. Robbie moved closer again and she could smell the fragrance of his Hugo Boss cologne. The scent filled her nose and reminded her of Italy, the Alps, the fishing village in Cornwall — all the places they had holidayed together.

She pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind and took a swig of the wine the waiter had just come over to pour.

She was flirting with the dangerous side of tipsy but she was not going to stop drinking now. She needed the magical liquid even if it was to act only as a prop she could pretend to play with and give her a focus point other than his hazel eyes.

“Ella, last Christmas I was planning to propose to you.”

Ella’s jaw dropped to the floor. She didn’t believe him. Was this a ploy to get her back?

“You remember the silver bracelet I gave you that had diamonds and sapphires on it?” Ella nodded silently, scared to hear what he was going to say next. “Well that was meant to be Part One of the present. Part Two was an engagement ring I was going to give to you on Christmas Day but when it came down to it ...” It was his turn to break for wine now. He took a massive gulp and continued when he saw the panic in Ella’s face.

“I had decided a few months before December, October maybe, and I was going to propose on Christmas morning in bed after you opened your stocking. But a few weeks before, doubts crept in. I started to panic about being too young, about being not ready and then it seemed everywhere I went, everyone was talking about marriage and why not to do it! You started to allude to it a lot and while I know you did so in jest and sweetly, every little mention of it started to weigh me down a little bit more.”

Ella couldn’t believe what her ex-boyfriend was telling her. So she had been right. She had seen the signs and she hadn’t been making the whole thing up in her head!

She could feel the full effect of the alcohol now. She felt that the volume of wine she had just consumed was about to flow straight out of her eyes.

Ella felt a tear escape her right eye and she saw Robbie move to wipe it for her. His hand lingered on her face and he tucked one of her curls behind her ear.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

He was so close now she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

“My darling Ella. I was a fool not to go through with it. I should never have listened to anybody else. I should have ignored their prejudiced and biased comments about how marriage changed everything. But, I’m here now.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I will spend the rest of my days making up what I did to you, I promise.”

Ella was a wreck. She was crying profusely and looking from Robbie’s eyes to the floor and back again. Finally he was saying all the things she had hoped to hear for so long. For months after he left she had imagined him storming back through their front door and telling her he made a mistake. He
wanted
her, he
loved
her. Now it was actually happening and she didn’t know what to do. He was looking longingly at her and started to push the table away from them slightly.

Ella didn’t know why he was creating a gap between the table and the leather seat but when he dropped onto one knee she understood instantly. He took out a small box from his pocket and opened it. There starring at her was an elegant ring with spectacular diamonds sitting either side of an enormous sapphire. It matched the bracelet he had given her last Christmas.

She was lost for words. She felt a lump in her throat rising and all parts of her body screamed different things to her.
No
.
Yes
.
No
.
Yes
.
Run
.
Stay
.
Kiss
him
.
Slap
him
.

“Ella Moore, will you marry me? This is something I should have asked you a long time ago. I love you endlessly and there would be no greater pleasure in life than being your husband.”

Ella was still in shock. She was shaking her head from left to right in disbelief. Robbie, wasn’t sure if she was saying no or if she was just overwhelmed by the situation. He took the ring from the box, slid it onto her ring finger and sat back down next to her. He sat so close to her that his soft lips were brushing her face. Ella looked at him with confusion and he kissed her. His lips were just as she had remembered them; cool, smooth and oh so familiar. She felt her heart explode in her chest as he pressed against her lips and his tongue slid into her mouth. She had dreamed of this for so long and her body had ached for him. She kissed him passionately for a moment, but then something niggled at her. This felt strange and she drew back from him. Although her she had dreamt of this regularly when she had been heartbroken, it felt bizarre to kiss him now, alien even.

Straight away Ella was now wracked with guilt. What was she doing? She didn’t want this. She suddenly realised that she didn’t feel the same for Robbie anymore. She didn’t want him. She wanted Fergus. She wanted to run home and find Fergus waiting for her. She stood up suddenly.

“Robbie!” she bellowed. “I cannot marry you!”

Robbie’s face flooded with panic as she took off the ring and laid it on the table. She slid clumsily between the table and the seat until she was freed of the booth. She turned to look at him, this gorgeous man who had once been the love of her life but was now the love of her past.

“I will never marry you. You are one year too late Robbie.”

She turned her back on him and headed to the door, noticing on her way the waiter carrying a Beef Bourguignon and a
Confit
de
Canard
in the direction of their table. Her walk turned into a jog and she sped quickly through the restaurant until she was in the street. She ran all the way to the nearest tube station in her heels, feeling liberated by what had just happened. She sat down on the underground seat and began to laugh.