Who's That Girl (22 page)

'Though personally I think we should go for a nice full-bodied red.'

'What about a Merlot?' suggests Vanessa, tearing off a chunk of bread.

'A
Merlot
?' repeats Miles, pulling a face.

'Oh, please, what is this?
Sideways
?' quips Vanessa, rolling her eyes.

'There's nothing wrong with trying to develop a palate,' he replies, a little rankled.

'She's only teasing,' I say, rubbing his arm and shooting a glance at Vanessa, who's burying her face in a bread roll.

Actually, I know she's not. Vanessa and Miles have never seen eye to eye. They're like the human equivalent of oil and water.

'Not drinking yet?'

I look up to see Julian striding towards us. Carrying his briefcase and wearing a smart navy blue suit, he looks every inch the suave, successful lawyer.

'Happy birthday, Charlotte.' He leans across the table to give me a kiss.

'We're still figuring it out,' replies Miles, a little tightly.

'Well, as long as it's wet.' He grins, lightly kissing Vanessa on the forehead with a 'Hello, hon', before sitting down. 'Sorry, work was insane.'

'As always,' mutters Vanessa, but if Julian hears her, he doesn't react.

'I know, why don't we ask the waiter?' I suggest as a compromise, and closing the menu, I turn round to attract his attention.

Finishing up at another table, he looks over. 'Yes?'

Oh God. My heart sinks as I realise it's the same barman who served us on Monday night. The one who thought my allergies were just hilarious.

'We'd like to order some wine, please,' smiles Julian.

'What would you like?'

'I was thinking about a Pinot—' Miles begins, but is interrupted by Vanessa.

'But we can't decide,' she finishes, throwing him a look.

'Well, I'd suggest the Rioja if you want a red, or the Sancerre if you'd prefer white.'

I'm skulking down in my chair, trying to hide behind my menu. Hopefully he won't remember me.

'They both sound great,' smiles Julian. 'Why don't we have one of each?'

'Excellent.' He nods, then motions to the empty breadbasket, most of which has been gobbled up by Vanessa. 'More bread?'

'Um, no, not for me,' mutters Vanessa guiltily. 'Charlotte?'

'Charlotte doesn't eat bread,' pipes up Miles before I can answer. 'She has a wheat intolerance.'

'Ah, yes, now I remember. The lady with the food allergies.'

I catch the barman's eyes and see they're twinkling with amusement.

'So, what's new Miles?' asks Julian as the barman leaves. Thankfully.

'Well, Charlotte and I put an offer in on a house yesterday.'

'You did?' Vanessa looks at me agog. 'You never told me, Charlotte!'

'Didn't I? Oh, er… I was going to.' Suddenly reminded, I feel an anxious twinge. 'It must have slipped my mind.'

'Wow, that's exciting,' nods Julian, raising his eyebrows as if he's impressed.

'Yes, isn't it?' beams Miles.

'I bet Mrs M. was beside herself,' grins Vanessa, referring to my mum. She's known me long enough to know what my mother's like.

'I haven't told her.'

'
You haven't
?' Miles rounds on me, shocked.

'Well, we don't know if we've got it yet, do we?' I say quickly.

'When do you find out if your offer's been accepted?' asks Julian evenly.

'Soon, I hope,' replies Miles, turning to him. 'It went straight to sealed bids, so we're just waiting to hear.'

'Shall we order?' I suggest, trying to sound nonchalant and to change the subject. All this house talk is making me nervous.

'Not until I've given you your present,' bosses Vanessa, pulling out an envelope from her handbag. She hands it to me across the table. 'And I don't want to hear any excuses about you being too busy.'

I look at her quizzically and open my mouth to say something, but I'm shooed by her hand, so I tear it open instead. Out fall two Eurostar tickets to Paris.

'Oh, wow, you shouldn't have!'

'I know.' She grins teasingly. 'But now you
have
to go away for the weekend and relax, otherwise you'll feel very guilty for wasting my money.'

I smile back. She knows me so well. That's exactly what I would do.

'Well, Julian's money,' she adds tersely. I know Vanessa hates the fact that now she's given up working, she doesn't have her own money to spend any more. 'And anyway, now I can live vicariously through you.' She glances at Julian. 'I can't remember the last time we went away for a weekend.'

'We will,' he says, looking uncomfortable. 'It's just that work's crazy at the moment. In fact that reminds me - I'm going to have to go into the office on Sunday.'

Vanessa's face drops. 'But we were going to take the kids to the aquarium.'

'I know. I'm sorry, darling. We'll have to do it another weekend.'

'OK, now my turn.' Seemingly unaware of the tension across the table, Miles jovially interrupts. Vanessa and Julian fall silent, and all eyes are upon him as he reaches inside his breast pocket and produces a small black velvet box.

A small black velvet
jewellery
box.

My heart starts thudding loudly in my ears. Oh my God, is that what I
think
it is? Is he going to do what I
think
he's going to do? I keep my eyes glued to the box in Miles's hand, too scared to look at his face. What am I going to say, in front of all these people? Well, yes, obviously. I'll say yes, right?

'Charlotte?'

His voice snaps me back as he hands me the box. His expression is serious, yet uncertain. I swallow hard. This is it.

This is it.

I take a deep breath, my fingers fumbling with the catch. My heart is racing. I suddenly feel light-headed, as if time's slowed right down and the chatter and hum of the pub have gone all muffled, like watching a movie in slow motion with the sound turned down. The catch releases, and with the breath caught in the back of my throat, I slowly open the lid.
Pearl earrings?

I stare blankly at them, nestling white and shiny on the black velvet, and almost want to laugh with giddy relief. Abruptly I feel completely ridiculous. What on earth was I thinking? Of course he wasn't going to propose. Honestly, Charlotte, talk about getting carried away.

'Do you like them?'

I snap my focus back to the earrings.

Um… yes… they're lovely,' I murmur, looking at them properly for the first time.

'I thought you would,' Miles is saying, his face suffused with pleasure. 'They're just so you.'

'You think so?' I feel a tiny voice of protest. I don't feel like someone who'd wear pearl earrings. Don't you have to be over fifty? Or be the Queen or something?

'Absolutely! Try them on,' he encourages.

Taking them out of the box, I slide them into my ears. I hold back my hair to murmurs of approval round the table. 'Thank you, Miles, they're wonderful.' I smile, ignoring my doubts and give him a kiss.

So what if they're not me? It's the thought that counts, isn't it?

The rest of the evening slips away over plates of delicious food, several bottles of wine and the familiar conversations about careers, the housing market and what current antics Ruby and Sam have got up to.

'I had to buy a new phone because Ruby was worried that he was lonely,' sighs Julian, finishing telling a story about how Ruby decided to drop his mobile into the goldfish bowl so that Boris the goldfish could call his friends.

'I think it was her way of getting you off the phone,' remarks Vanessa dryly, as Miles laughs in consolation. 'And pretty effective too,' she adds, before making her excuses to go to the ladies' as the dessert menus are brought out.

'I'll come with you,' I say, pushing back my chair.

'What is it with women going in pairs to the toilet?' wonders Julian aloud as we leave the table.

'So we can talk about you, sweetie,' jokes Vanessa.

At least, I think she's joking, but when we get into the ladies' and I thank her once again for my present, she instructs, 'Just make sure you eat lots of pastries and have lots of sex in Paris. Someone has to.'

'Oh, come on,' I protest. 'I know what you and Julian are up to.' Nudging her in the ribs, I smile knowingly, thinking of the contents of Julian's shopping basket.

'Up to?' she huffs derisively. 'I don't have the energy to be up to anything. I'm exhausted. The only thing we're up to is arguing over who's going to get up and see to Sam when he wakes up crying for the third time in the middle of the night.'

'But I thought…' I trail off as I flash back to yesterday. Now I think about it, Julian did seem kind of jumpy. Nervous, almost. As if he didn't want me to see him. My mind cuts back to Vanessa's comment about him having an affair with his secretary.

'Thought what?' asks Vanessa, and I see her looking at me quizzically.

'Oh… um… you looked closer, that's all.' Quickly I scrub that image from my mind. I'm being totally ridiculous, just like Vanessa was.

'I don't think so.' She smiles wanly. 'I've barely seen him this week. He's always at work. It's almost like we're two strangers, like we don't know each other any more,' she finishes, her shoulders slumping defeatedly.

God, I hate to see Vanessa looking so sad.

'I know what you need,' I say cheerfully, changing the subject.

'A new husband?' She smiles ruefully.

'No, silly, a new lip gloss,' I chivvy, digging a handful out of my handbag. Vanessa's eyes light up. Since having Sam, she seems to have stopped wearing make-up. She says it takes too long to apply. It's the same with her hair. Instead of blow-drying it straight, she now ties it up in a knot. 'Ooh, where did you get this?' she says, pulling off the top.

'One of the perks of working in PR.'

'By the way, I meant to say…' She pauses to wand her bottom lip. 'Isn't that the barman we saw in the shop?'

At the mention of him all the cells in my body jerk to attention. It catches me by surprise. Why is it that someone so annoying can have this effect on me? 'Unfortunately.' I grimace, quickly brushing the thought away.

'Mmm.' Pressing her lips together, Vanessa smiles wickedly. 'I wonder what he's offering for dessert.'

'Whatever it is, it'll be too many points.' I smile back, and then cower as she punches me playfully on the arm.

Five minutes later and a newly lip-glossed Vanessa and I make our way back to the table.

'Ah! Just in time,' says Julian as we reappear.

'For what?' I ask, glancing around.

'Champagne!' announces Miles as the barman appears with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and four champagne flutes and sets them down on the table.

'Ooh, is this the bit where we start singing "Happy Birthday" really loudly and embarrass Charlotte in front of everyone?' grins Vanessa.

'No, it's not,' replies Miles, shooting her a look.

'Spoilsport.'

Next to me, the barman is deftly easing the cork from the neck of the bottle, and as he starts pouring the champagne, I notice a small tattoo etched on the underside of his wrist. I stare at it for a moment, trying to make it out.

'It's a frog.'

I snatch my eyes away, only to meet those of the barman staring at me, staring at him. 'Oh, right.'

I nod, feeling a hot flash of embarrassment.

'My mother's French,' he explains, a small smile playing on his lips. Is he making fun of me again? Is that supposed to be a joke?

'Isn't that offensive to French people?' I reply a little stiffly.

'You haven't met my mother,' he responds evenly.

A look flashes between us and I suddenly feel all jittery. 'No…' I manage, struggling for a witty comeback, but my mind's a total blank. 'Obviously,' I add lamely.

'I want to propose a toast…'

Miles's voice snaps me back and I turn to see him raising his champagne flute.

'…to Charlotte on her birthday.'

Julian and Vanessa raise their glasses. 'To Charlotte,' they both chorus.

'And to our new house.'

'Our house?' I swivel round to face him.

'I've been saving the best till last. The estate agent called earlier, but I wanted to keep it as a surprise,' he explains, grinning delightedly. 'They accepted our offer. It's ours!'

'Ours?' I repeat, taken aback. So taken aback, it seems, that I've turned into an echo.

'Here you go,' says a voice close to my ear, and I glance up to see the barman passing me a champagne flute. 'You're not allergic to bubbles, are you?' He throws me a look.

'Um… no… I'm not… thanks,' I mumble, meeting those pale grey eyes of his, before quickly averting my gaze. 'I mean, wow, that's great!' I enthuse, turning back to Miles, who's still grinning from ear to ear.

Raising his champagne flute, he clinks it against mine. 'Here's to us!'

I smile dazedly. 'To us.'

Chapter Twenty-one

We leave early.

'Babysitters,' grumbles Vanessa, pulling a face in apology as we stand outside on the pavement.

'If we're not home by ten, it goes into triple time,' adds Julian, raising a rueful eyebrow.

'Crikey, I'm in the wrong job,' chortles Miles, slightly flushed from too much champagne.

'No worries.' I smile, giving Vanessa a hug. 'I need an early night anyway.'

Which is true. I do. Especially after last night. And it doesn't matter that it's my birthday, does it?

I mean, so what? It's just another birthday. It's not like I'm disappointed or anything silly like that, I think, as we all say our goodbyes.

Waving them off in a black cab, Miles and I walk to my car.

'Are you OK to drive?' he asks as I beep the lock and slide into the driver's seat. Miles doesn't own a car. He says having one in London is like throwing money down the drain and is always nagging me to use public transport: 'Just think,' he always says, 'with all cash you save you could invest in an ISA.'

Which is true. I could.

Then again, I could also buy a fabulous new handbag.

'Because the number seventy-two goes straight from here.'

Miles has the bus timetable ingrained on his brain. On our first date he took me out for dinner, but he refused to take a cab to the restaurant - even though it was raining and I was wearing a new pair of shoes. A pair of nude suede strappy sandals.