Rory's Proposal (13 page)

‘You never mention anyone.’

He nods.

‘This is true. We broke up about nine months ago.’

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry.’

I feel a little surge of pleasure. He’s available, handsome, stinking rich and according to Rosalind wanting to give me as well as my car a bang. No, don’t think about it, don’t think about it but how can I not think about it? I’ll be engaged to Luke in a few days and that will be that. He places his laptop onto the table and looks at me.

‘It was on the cards, she rather liked money too much. I prefer to be with someone who wants to be with me rather than be romantically involved with my money.’

‘I wouldn’t mind your money,’ I say impulsively.

God, where did that come from? It just kind of flew out of my mouth.

He widens his eyes.

‘That’s honesty.’

Now I sound like just another money-hungry female.

‘I didn’t mean I would prefer the money to you …’ I stutter.

He continues to look at me. This is becoming uncomfortable. The only word going through my head is
bang
. Honestly I could kill Rosalind. I turn to the window to avoid his eyes and enjoy the views of green fields and countryside. The sun is shining and I feel the heat of it on my cheek.

‘What I meant was, I’d like to have money but not necessarily your money. I’d obviously be happy to have you without it …’

Oh God, what am I saying? Do shut up Flora.

‘Not that I’m saying I want you, of course.’

Not much. Oh, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

‘It’s just money from anywhere would help right now,’ I say with a sigh.

He smiles and stands up. Oh no, he isn’t going to make a pass at me is he? I’ve probably asked for it.

‘Fancy a game of cards?’ he asks.

‘A game of cards?’ I repeat.

‘That’s what I said.’

‘As long as it’s not strip poker,’ I say, and bite my lip.

What’s wrong with me? I’m openly flirting with him.

‘I’m game if you are,’ he smiles, sending shivers down my spine.

‘I wasn’t serious,’ I laugh.

He places a pack of cards onto the table.

‘Whoever loses buys dinner,’ he says.

‘I can cope with that,’ I say.

‘So how about we play gin rummy? After all you have more clothes to take off than me so I’d probably end up naked first,’ he says with another wink. ‘So, maybe best not to play strip poker.’

Is he flirting with me?

‘Dinner it is. I never thought I’d meet anyone who thought about food as much as me,’ I laugh.

It is a relief to talk about food without the threat of recrimination. Not that Luke is that bad. I don’t want you to think he is. I just wish he would be a bit more relaxed when it comes to food.

‘Who’s talking about food?’ he says, in a tone so sexual that my breath catches in my throat. I’ll have to stop wearing Womanity around him if this is what it does. Or maybe I should dab a bit more on. No, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

‘You’re wearing that perfume again aren’t you?’ he says, reading my mind. He has an uncanny habit of doing that.

‘I might be,’ I reply, aware that we are blatantly flirting.

I don’t believe this. He surely must have better taste. I can’t believe I am that fanciable to someone like him. He surely goes for the blonde bombshell types. You know, those women smelling of Chanel and dripping in pearls, their lips a rosy red, and glossed like no tomorrow. I’ve never glossed in my life. I chew it off in five seconds. They always have thick wavy locks too, don’t they? Or I should say long wavy extensions? I always imagine they spend half their life in a Chanel bubble bath and the other half between silk sheets getting shagged for all they’re worth. I don’t think I have ever been shagged for all I’m worth, but then again I don’t think I’m worth much so perhaps Luke is giving me the shag I do deserve. How depressing is that?

‘We should have music while we play. What would you like?’

He turns his laptop around to show me his playlist.

‘I’d like …’ I begin.

‘Let me guess. You like Black Eyed Peas?’

I stare at him aghast.

‘How did you know that?

‘A calculated guess.’

I shake my head.

‘I don’t believe that.’

‘No you’re right. I played a wild card. I saw it on the music player in the salon when you went to change. Anyway, we have Black Eyed Peas.’

He clicks the music player and
Tonight’s gonna be a good night
belts out.

‘Gin rummy, whoever wins chooses what the other has to do as a forfeit. Agreed?’

‘I thought the loser bought dinner,’ I say, crossing my arms.

‘I just changed the rules,’ he grins.

‘Okay,’ I agree dubiously.

‘Gin rummy isn’t gin rummy without gin is it?’ he says searching through the mini bar.

‘No mother’s ruin so Moet it is I’m afraid.’

He returns with a bottle of Moet and two glasses.

‘Every time I take your cards you have to drink half a glass and vice versa. I hope you’re good at this game.’

‘I can drink you under the table,’ I say confidently.

‘You think you can?’ he grins.

I nod.

‘Okay, let’s see how you do.’

Twenty minutes into the game and I’m beginning to feel sure he has cheated. I’m already on my third glass of champagne while he’s still on his first.

‘Nuts,’ he says jumping up.

He returns with a bag of salted peanuts.

‘Or are you not allowed because of the salt?’ he asks.

Oh dear. Champagne and salted peanuts, something Luke abhors.

‘Never drink while eating peanuts,’ he says. ‘It’s the quickest way to get drunk.’

‘Do we have any Coke?’

His eyes widen.

‘Wow, you are letting your hair down, champagne, drugs and peanuts.’

‘I meant Coke the drink.’

He laughs.

‘That’s a relief. We do, but that’s cheating isn’t it?’

‘Talking of cheating, I think there is a slip of the hand going on here.’

‘You’re getting dirty with me now,’ he laughs.

He puts his cards down and I squeal with delight.

‘Yes, I’m taking those.’

‘Why don’t you let Luke propose to you?’ he asks. ‘Instead of the other way around.’

I lift my head and feel it spin. I can’t say because Luke may never propose. That’s the truth though isn’t it? I’m good enough to live with but not good enough to marry. I should never drink champagne. It always makes me maudlin and negative.

‘Because I don’t think he will,’ I say honestly and gulp some more champagne.

‘Then he’s a fool,’ he says.

I suppose I could have a last bang before the wedding couldn’t I? Then again maybe not. I wouldn’t want Luke doing it. I know I could never do something like that, not really. He knocks back half a glass of champagne and pops a handful of nuts into his mouth. Forty-five minutes later and we are on the second bottle and I’m feeling very tipsy. The passing scenery rushes by, making me even dizzier. He taps his fingers on the table in time to the music. I play my hand and he takes my cards and puts his down.

‘Right, I’m laying everything out,’ he says.

‘You are?’ I say, somewhat drunkenly.

He smiles.

‘Not literally.’

‘That’s a shame.’

He raises his eyebrows.

‘Although it could be arranged,’ he says softly.

I blush furiously. Oh God, I must stop drinking. He looks at me over the rim of his glass and laughs. He totals up the scores and says triumphantly.

‘I won.’

Why am I not surprised?

‘Fix,’ I say giggling.

He removes the glass from my hand.

‘Your forfeit is to dance with me. You can choose the song. But it has to be slow. Anything too fast and I think we’ll both be throwing up.’

I look at the playlist.

‘
These Foolish Things
,’ I say. ‘It’s a tempo I can just about cope with.’

‘
These Foolish Things
it is,’ he says, scrolling down the music.

The song begins and he puts his hand out. I take it and it feels warm in mine. He pulls me gently towards him and I lay my hand softly on his shoulder. I shudder as his arm wraps around my waist and I am pulled into his chest. His heart beats against mine as we twirl slowly around the carriage.

‘Come here often?’ he whispers.

‘Hardly ever,’ I respond.

‘You should. The food and company are excellent.’

I should pull away but it feels so perfect to be in his arms. I try to think of Luke but my fuddled brain struggles to do so. He is singing the song softly into my ear and it feels like a lullaby. One hand is clasped tightly in mine and I feel his breath whisper across my neck as he moves in closer. I attempt to move back but he is holding me tightly.

‘Flo, I …’ he begins.

Pull away now. Pull away now Flora. Think of Luke, think of the engagement. More importantly think of the wedding. Think of …

‘I really need to explain something to you. I …’ he continues.

At that moment the train screeches to a
halt and we are thrown onto the seat. He falls on top of me, his face so close that I can now feel his breath on my cheek. Before I have time to think his lips are on mine and I’m surrendering to the warmth and passion in them. I can hear noises around us but it seems so far away. I am only aware of the deliciousness of his kiss and the saltiness of his tongue. I feel myself drift into the kiss and my arms wrap themselves around his body. There is a knock on the door and he backs away, leaving me bereft and suddenly guilty.

‘Sorry sir,’ says the waiter. He looks harassed and anxious.

‘What’s happened?’ Tom asks.

I straighten my clothes with trembling hands.

‘There is a tree on the track. We’re
getting it moved but it may be some time.’

What? He’s surely joking. I’ve heard of leaves on the line and the wrong kind of snow, but a tree on the track, I don’t believe this. Only something like this could happen to me when I’m trying to get to my boyfriend to propose. Tom turns off the music.

‘Will we still get to Dublin on time?’ I ask, trying not to look at Tom. How can I propose to Luke now after kissing another man? This is awful, what was I thinking of?

‘I can only tell you that we’re trying to get the tree moved as soon as possible, but things are out of our control I’m afraid.’

‘Thank you for letting us know,’ says Tom.

‘There is a hotel in the village nearby and they are offering food. If you wish to stay on the train we will be serving dinner as usual. We obviously won’t catch our ferry crossing but we will get going again as soon as we can.’

The door closes and I avoid looking at Tom.

‘Flo …’ he begins.

‘It was the champagne,’ I say quickly. ‘I’ve drunk far too much and so have you.’

Although I’m not so sure he has drunk as much as me. I lean out of the window and strain to see the fallen tree. I don’t believe this. I turn to face him.

‘I’m starting to wonder if you’re behind this,’ I say stupidly.

‘You think I made a tree fall down? And how did I manage that?’

‘You don’t seem to want me to get to Dublin,’ I say angrily, grabbing a handful of nuts.

‘Luke won’t like that,’ he says, pointing to the nuts and collecting up the cards.

‘You don’t know what Luke does or doesn’t like and if you think I’m sleeping in those bunk beds with you then you can think again.’

‘Why are you taking this out on me?’ he asks.

I feel my body flush at the memory of his kiss. How dare he kiss me? I’m on my way to Dublin. I’m as good as married aren’t I? What was I thinking of? How dare he put me in such a position? He’s nothing but a gigolo. He probably preys on soon-to-be-married women. I feel my legs tremble at the memory of his kiss and shake my head to push it away. He walks towards me and I struggle to get him into focus. Oh God, I’ve gone blind in one eye. What the hell. Did he put something strange in my drink? I knew it. He’s drugged me.

‘Flo …’ he begins.

‘I’ve gone blind in one eye,’ I say dramatically.

‘No you haven’t,’ he says, leaning down.

‘What are you doing?’ I say nervously.

‘Picking up your
contact lens,’ he says, dropping it into my hand. ‘You’re so dramatic.’

I look into his eyes and laugh.

‘I need to change them,’ I say, heading for the loo.

‘Flo, about earlier, I’m sorry. It was the champagne.’