Книга - Winter’s Fairytale

Winter's Fairytale
Maxine Morrey


The #1 Bestseller! ‘As a festive love story, this book has it all: romance, an engaging heroine you feel you could be friends with, a handsome caring hero…lots of warmth and humour and plenty of snow.’ – PortobelloBookBlogStep into a winter wonderland and fall in love in the snow this Christmas…Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…A few weeks before Christmas and a sudden blanketing of snow has closed the roads and brought public transport grinding to a halt, stranding Izzy miles from home and in desperate need of rescuing.That doesn’t mean she’s looking to bump into Rob and spend a cosy weekend holed up in his swanky flat watching London become a winter wonderland! Because Izzy and Rob have history…Six months ago, they were standing in the vestry of a beautiful country church, while best man Rob delivered the news that every bride dreads on their big day.But at the time of year when anything is possible, can Rob and Izzy let go of the past and let Christmas work its magic? Or will this be one holiday wish that Izzy lets walk right out of her life…Winner of the Carina UK #WriteChristmas competitionWhat reviewers are saying about Winter’s Fairytale‘One of my favourite Christmas reads. Maxine Morrey writes the most gorgeous heroes. – Jules Wake, author of Covent Garden in the Snow, on The Christmas Project‘This book was a real wintry treat, with all the snow nicely contrasting with all the warmth the story exuded. I couldn’t help but find myself laughing away or sighing with happiness and I’m so excited to read more from Maxine if this is the kind of feel-good novel she’s capable of. I just want to read it all over again and probably will do in Christmases to come.’ – Sophie at Reviewed the Book‘This is a beautiful fairytale for adults, set in and around Christmas, with a healthy helping of romance… this story draws you in and won't let you go. It is beautifully written, very easy and pleasurable to read.’ – Rachel’s Random Reads‘Fantastic strong characters, along with beautifully descriptive writing enabled me to immerse myself into their world and become a fly on the wall. I love books that transport me to Christmas and make me feel all festive and warm and Winter’s Fairytale certainly delivered for me.’ – Jill Loves to Read







Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…

A few weeks before Christmas and a sudden blanketing of snow has closed the roads and brought public transport grinding to a halt, stranding Izzy miles from home and in desperate need of rescuing.

But that doesn’t mean she’s looking to bump into Rob and spend a cosy weekend holed up in his swanky flat watching London become a winter wonderland! Because Izzy and Rob have history…

Six months ago, they were standing in the vestry of a beautiful country church, while best man Rob delivered the news that every bride dreads on their big day…

But at the time of year when anything is possible, can Rob and Izzy let go of the past and let Christmas work its magic? Or will this be one holiday wish that Izzy lets walk right out of her life…


Winter’s Fairytale

Maxine Morrey







Copyright (#ulink_14d383c9-3683-5c6f-8f82-44e43dda84b2)

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015

Copyright © Maxine Morrey 2015

Maxine Morrey asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474046817

Version date: 2018-07-23


MAXINE MORREY

has wanted to be a writer for as long as she can remember and wrote her first (very short) book for school when she was ten. Coming in first, she won a handful of book tokens – best prize ever at the time!

As time went by, she continued to write, but ‘normal’ work often got in the way. Finally though, she really decided to go for it, and wrote. Really wrote. And after a while she had a bunch of articles, and a non-fiction book to her name. But her first love is novels, which is where Carina come in.

In August 2015, Maxine got the call to say that she had won Carina UK’s ‘Write Christmas’ competition, with a publishing deal being offered as a result. Suffice to say, there was a whole lot of ‘can’t-stop-smiling’ going on for several days following this.

Maxine lives in Sussex in the UK, with her very supportive husband.



Her website is: www.scribblermaxi.co.uk (http://www.scribblermaxi.co.uk)

You can also find her on Twitter @Scribbler_Maxi

On Facebook www.facebook.com/MaxineMorreyAuthor (http://www.facebook.com/MaxineMorreyAuthor)

On Instagram @Scribbler_Maxi

On Pinterest @ScribblerMaxi


I would like to thank the team at HQ Digital UK/Harlequin, especially Victoria Oundjian, for their support and incredible enthusiasm for this book, and for the validation that this has given me.

I’d also like to say thanks to Emma Dellow for her continual support and wise words in my moments of panic and insecurity during the process of writing this book – they were very much appreciated.

And finally, I’d like to thank my husband, James, who always had complete faith that I’d get there and because without his support and belief in me, none of this would have happened.


For James


Contents

Cover (#ue0b3bb5c-f09d-512c-be14-c83324ef5561)

Blurb (#u8946d984-0f2a-5e1f-99cf-46d6c2e0d2d0)

Title Page (#uca9c0bc3-5ea5-504c-aecc-bc1e60825ef3)

Copyright (#ub89d3256-97fd-549b-ba72-9922cc00a353)

Author Bio (#ub05ca088-e69b-5ca4-a508-fe2f51c09200)

Acknowledgement (#uec34be92-ae76-5d90-bba8-3e1fda937db1)

Dedication (#uca3a91a0-3843-59a2-9961-d11eee8e3357)

Chapter One (#ub61d046b-426c-5810-bba6-653c51e4c452)

Chapter Two (#ud9baa563-fdf3-5cbf-b448-e27df7a457bd)

Chapter Three (#ub1c522f9-0f95-5d80-ae86-842415ebbd98)

Chapter Four (#u52f953b4-0cd6-5cd1-a444-b92c93631086)

Chapter Five (#u8a30a5be-dde4-5e6b-a8ea-a323d3332731)

Chapter Six (#u76cf80b9-4a3b-5b97-9e61-a248182d1200)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_33a8bcad-3a07-524d-8631-9b5945c18420)

There were whole chapters dedicated to the throwing of the bouquet in the very many books I had pored over in the run up to this day, all instructing me on How To Have The Perfect Wedding. Oddly enough, there wasn’t one sentence referring to the appropriate etiquette involved in throwing your first ever punch instead. In fact, there was also a conspicuously absent chapter on what to do if your spineless fiancé decides that the actual wedding day is the best time to tell you he doesn’t want to get married. Not that it mattered. It turned out I didn’t need tuition on how to punch – I was a natural, apparently. Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on whose perspective you were looking at it from – my ex Groom To Be hadn’t even had the guts to turn up to the church at all. Which is why Rob, the best man, a perfectly nice bloke, was sat on his backside on the vestry floor, holding a hastily acquired wodge of tissues to his now bleeding nose.

‘I’m so sorry!’ I held out my hand to help him up and he, understandably, looked at it warily before opting to push himself up. I let my hand fall back down to my side.

‘I don’t know what came over me. That obviously wasn’t really meant for you. But honestly? It was either you or the vicar.’

We both glanced over at the vicar who had paled and was now the same colour as his crisp white robe.

Rob nodded. ‘You probably made the right choice,’ he pulled the tissues away and looked at them briefly before shoving them back on his nose, ‘I think.’

An awkward silence settled on the three of us.

‘I really had no idea.’ Rob said, his voice muffled and thick through the barrier of tissues.

I looked up at him from where I’d been staring at the crystals on my dress. Each one painstakingly sewn on by hand. My own hand. Rob looked wretched. Almost as miserable as I did. Almost. If he was lying then he deserved an Oscar. I didn’t think he was that good of an actor.

‘No. Me neither.’ I smiled, sadly.

Again there was silence. Eventually the vicar gave a polite cough. We both looked at him. He was looking at me.

‘How would you like to proceed, my dear?’

He was a sweet man. Steven, my fiancé, and I had met with him several times, going over everything, confirming to him that we were serious about our intentions. We’d sworn (not literally) that this was what we wanted, and that both of us knew that it was not something to be undertaken lightly. And yet, here we were. Groom-less.

How did I want to proceed? I’m pretty sure that the vicar didn’t really want an honest answer to that question as, right now, it involved a pair of nutcrackers, Steven and a soundproof room.

‘I don’t know. How do you, I mean, what happens normally if…’ I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question.

‘Well, I can go out and make an announcement that there has been a change of plan, and request that everyone be kind enough to understand. Or if you wish, you can do it. But only if you want to.’

Oh God. What I wanted to do was throw up.

Rob answered before I could. ‘I’ll do it. It’s supposed to be the best man’s job to get the groom to the church. I seem to have failed spectacularly in that task, so it should be me that goes out there to explain.’

The vicar nodded sympathetically.

‘What will you say?’ I asked, quietly.

‘I don’t know yet,’ Rob shrugged his shoulders, ‘it’s not exactly the speech I had prepared.’

I nodded, feeling numb. It all felt weirdly unreal.

‘I’ll think of something. Don’t worry.’ He gave me a half smile, trying to lighten the moment. An almost impossible ask right now, but I appreciated the effort. The vicar moved towards the door and Rob followed. I touched Rob’s arm.

‘Thank you.’

His hand reached out to mine and took it, squeezing gently, ‘I’m so sorry.’

That was a phrase I was going to have to get used to hearing a lot…


Chapter Two (#ulink_d4c578a7-dd6d-54fa-9f56-bdef93bb2e5e)

‘I’m so sorry. How awful for you!’

The friend of an acquaintance of an acquaintance was passing on her condolences on my failed wedding. Even though I had absolutely no idea who she was.

‘And in front of all those people too!’

Yes. In front of pretty much everyone I know. Thanks for bringing that up. Again.

‘Mmm.’ I made a non-committal noise and tried to change the subject. ‘So, are you looking for a dress for yourself or someone else?’

‘A dress?’

‘Yes, I mean, I assume you’re looking for a dress. Is it for a wedding, a prom or another special occasion?’ I tried again.

‘Oh I’m not looking for a dress, dear. I just popped in to tell you how sorry I was when I heard he’d just left you standing at the altar.’

Why is it when someone makes a comment you’d rather no one else heard, absolutely everyone in the vicinity hears it? The three other customers turned and peered at me.

‘Oh right. Well, that was very kind of you. Now, I’d better see to my clients. Thank you for dropping in.’

I turned my back on her and did my best to find a confident stride and a happy smile with which to greet the other people in my studio, hoping that they had actually come to discuss occasion wear rather than my nuptials, or lack thereof.

***

I glanced up at the old-fashioned station clock hanging on the wall. Nine p.m. My assistant had gone home hours ago but I’d declined the offer to walk to the station together tonight in favour of catching up on some paperwork and social media updates. I’d actually finished everything over half an hour ago but still I stayed. I loved my studio but even I knew it wasn’t that healthy to be here quite as much as I was. Working had been my salvation after the whole wedding hoo-hah. It was the one thing I could rely on. Even with a ropey economy, there were still plenty of people in London with money, and weddings were still big business. Luckily.

My studio had been doing pretty well for a couple of years and I knew I wanted to do more, but with the planning of the wedding and having a relationship, I just hadn’t really had the time to sit and think about exactly what and how. Now, thanks to Steven, I didn’t have to commit time to either of those things – which is why, the day after everything had happened, or more precisely, not happened, I had lain on my studio floor surrounded by spreadsheets, brainstorm pictograms and a plethora of other paperwork. By the end of the day, I had created a five-year plan for my business. Amongst other things, I wanted to expand so that I could take on a couple more seamstresses – this would allow me not only to take on more commissions, but also to get those that I did take on, done quicker. Without the bother of a relationship to get in the way of things, I had spent the weeks following my non-nuptials burying myself in my work, and determined to follow my neatly planned out path.

‘Hello?’ a voice called out as the bells above my door tinkled. Damn. I thought I’d locked that after Tash had left. I got up and walked across the studio space, my one indulgent pair of Louboutins clicking hurriedly on the wooden floor.

‘Hi!’ I greeted Natayla as she turned back from closing the door against the wind that was once more howling down the street outside my cosy studio.

‘I’m sorry to bother you. I wasn’t sure you’d still be here at this time but we were passing.’

‘Oh I’m often here late.’ I smiled, ‘No bother at all. It’s lovely to see you! How was the honeymoon?’

‘Amazing!’ Natayla gushed, ‘Sunsets, sandy beaches, cocktails and relaxing by the pool. We didn’t really do much else.’ she said, then blushed and smiled shyly.

I smiled back at her and touched her arm gently. ‘I’m glad it all went so well, Natayla.’

‘Thank you again for making me look so beautiful.’

‘It was my pleasure.’ I answered, honestly.

‘I brought you something.’ she said, and handed me a large envelope.

Opening it, I pulled out a black and white eight-by-ten photograph of Natayla and her new husband. The photo not only screamed at me how much in love they were, but also showed her dress off perfectly.

‘Oh Natayla! That’s beautiful. Thank you so much. I shall put it up first thing tomorrow.’

My client smiled her shy little smile again and I wavered.

‘Only if you’re happy with that, of course.’

‘Yes! Yes, I am happy. Very happy.’

‘Wonderful. Thank you.’

We exchanged a hug and I walked her over to the door, pausing whilst she pulled on her gloves and hat before I opened it. She stepped out and waved again, before hurrying off to a waiting car and disappearing inside. I shut the door, this time throwing the bolt before turning back.

I looked at the clock once more, and once more thought that I really should be making a move to go home. That was the problem with living somewhere you didn’t like. You never really wanted to go there. Instead I picked up my tea and wandered over to the wall covered in beautifully framed pictures. Sipping at my drink, I let my gaze drift over the happy smiles and gorgeous dresses. I lay the latest acquisition on Tash’s desk. There was no need for a note. Tash would know what to do with it. She’d been a great find and she was excellent at all the admin side of the business, and with clients, but I still wanted to increase the number of staff. Part of my business plan was to accept an intern. I’d learned so much when I’d done the same thing after getting my degree – about all different aspects of the job, things you just can’t learn in college – and I wanted to give someone else the chance to have that same experience. The thought of going to watch Final Collection shows with the view to employing someone, and then helping to nurture and develop that talent, gave me something to look forward to. My gaze went back to the photograph lying on the desk of the happy couple. The look of joy and love on their faces radiated out of the picture. I touched it briefly, almost as if by doing that I could experience that same joy, just for a moment.

Taking a deep breath, I took my mug and rinsed it out in the little kitchenette at the back of the studio. I slipped on my coat and belted it before grabbing the oversized leather tote bag I carried everywhere, and headed to the door.

***

‘When’s it going to stop?’ I asked my best friend, Mags, as I relayed the surprise visit I’d had during the week, ‘Honestly, I feel like the prime exhibit at a zoo! I have absolutely no idea who this woman was. I didn’t even know any of the people she reeled off as having told her the “devastating news” of my being jilted at the altar.’

‘Just ignore the old bag.’ Mags said sagely as she refilled my empty wine glass.

‘She even pointed out the irony of someone who makes wedding dresses for a living being left at the altar on her own wedding day. I mean, seriously! I felt like suggesting that she should join Mensa because, of course, that thought hasn’t crossed my mind once!’

‘Have you heard anything more from him?’

‘What, since he left me that thoughtful note saying he was going to go on the honeymoon alone as it “seemed a shame to waste it” and it would be good to “have some space between us”?’ I’d definitely had too much wine as I was doing finger quotes in the air. I never did finger quotes.

‘Yes.’

‘No.’

That was the good thing about living in London. It was big. You were much less likely to bump into people you knew than if you lived in a village. Of course Steven knew all our old haunts, and seemed to be having the good sense to stay out of them. I imagine he’d heard about my reaction in the church. I knew Rob wouldn’t have said anything out of choice but announcing that the wedding was off whilst trying to stem a steady flow of blood from his nose, together with the obvious lack of a groom, had probably meant that there wasn’t a whole lot of explanation required. Steven was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d likely worked out pretty quickly that going to the places we used to frequent together may lead to the possibility of the term ‘regular haunt’ becoming more literal than figurative for him.

‘How are your parents doing?’ Mags asked.

Mags and I had been friends forever. We were both army brats with our fathers serving in the same battalion, and I couldn’t remember a time when Mags wasn’t my best friend. When it had become clear that Steven wasn’t going to make an appearance at the church, she’d automatically known that the last thing I wanted, or needed, was a crowd of people fussing around me. She’d gone over to my parents, tactfully explained the situation, then sat with them whilst my dad stared at the flower display – silently, likely imagining several different ways to kill Steven with a gerbera – and my mum repeatedly asked how Steven could do such a thing, intermittently dabbing at her eyes with an embroidered linen handkerchief. Of course, had Mags known I was about to deck the best man, she might have altered her strategy.

‘They’re ok. Devastated. Concerned. But ok,’ I took a swig of the crisp, cool wine, ‘I think so long as they know I’m all right, they’ll be fine.’

‘And are you?’ Mags asked, looking at me directly, knowing I could never give her anything but an honest answer.

I drained my glass and thought about it. Was I ok?

‘Yes. I think so. Now the shock’s worn off. I still have days when I don’t really want to get out of bed, but then my stubborn side kicks in and I think that I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing what a bloody mess he’s caused.’

Mags nodded. I knew there was another question coming.

‘Ok. But what about how you really are? That’s the “showing the world I’m ok” bit taken care of, but how are you inside. Really?’

I loved Mags to bits, but sometimes I wished she wasn’t quite so insightful. I fiddled with the wine bottle cork as I let out a sigh.

‘I’m not sure, to be honest. He hurt me. Totally humiliated me. But I am getting through it. And that sort of worries me in a way. I mean, shouldn’t I be sobbing and wailing and declaring that my broken heart will never mend? It’s made me question whether he was really The One after all. I mean, I thought he was, obviously. But now – I don’t know! As much as I hate to admit it, I’m secretly wondering if he actually did me a bit of a favour. Would the marriage even have lasted, seeing as I’m not pining away for him?’

I took another swig. ‘Of course, I’d rather he’d told me prior to the bloody wedding day!’ I said, my voice getting louder as I finished the sentence.

It was the truth though. I was seriously wondering if I had very nearly made a big mistake. But the anger at Steven for humiliating me, and my parents, as well as his own, still boiled away. I didn’t know how long that would take to go away. I hadn’t seen Rob since the wedding day either, so it was likely he wasn’t too sure about that aspect either, and, bearing in mind I’d punched him on the nose last time, he wasn’t taking any chances. I could hardly blame him.

As if reading my mind, Mags looked over from where she was studying the label on the wine bottle.

‘Have you seen Rob at all since then?’

I shook my head.

‘You do know you actually broke his nose, don’t you?

I whipped my head around to face her. Thanks to the copious amount of alcohol now thinning my blood, it took the world a moment or two to catch up. I blinked, and waited a few seconds for it all to settle down. Mags pushed her own cute little nose to the side, as if to illustrate the point.

‘I couldn’t have! He’s an ex-army, six-foot-three rugby player and I’m…’ I paused to look down at my own far less statuesque frame, ‘…not. I didn’t even hit him that hard!’

If I’m honest, I wasn’t entirely sure about the last bit. In the days following the incident, my hand, with its perfectly manicured nails, had turned a variety of shades, none of which were particularly attractive, as the whole thing became one massive bruise. And he had ended up on his bum.

‘Hard enough, it seems.’ Mags confirmed, a small smirk catching her lips.

I saw it.

‘Stop it! It’s not funny.’

Her smirk turned into a grin.

‘It’s not!’ I reiterated, ‘Anyway, how do you know?’

‘I saw him a few days ago. I was at Borough Market at lunchtime and he came into the pub with some colleagues.’

‘Oh.’

‘He was asking after you. He wanted to know if you were ok.’

‘Oh.’ I said again. ‘What did you tell him?’ I asked, after a couple more minutes.

‘I just said that you were doing ok, under the circumstances, and that you would be fine because you’re not about to let a lowlife piece of pond scum like Steven ruin your life.’

‘Right. Good. Ok. So long as you were subtle about it.’

‘Of course.’

And the funny thing was, that actually was subtle for Mags. It was lucky that it had been Rob and not Steven she’d run into. We’d been there for every good, and every awful, moment in each other’s lives and her fury at seeing her best friend hurt was probably more than my own could ever be. If Steven appeared in her line of vision any time within the next few months, there was every chance a trip to the casualty department would be in his very immediate future. I was just entertaining that idea in my head when Mags broke into my thoughts.

‘I think he’d like to see you.’

‘Who?’

‘Rob.’

‘Me? Why?’ My hand suddenly flew to my mouth, ‘Oh my God! He’s going to sue me for breaking his nose!’

Mags spurted out her wine over my kitchen table in laughter. ‘He does not want to sue you for breaking his nose!’

‘How do you know? Did he specifically say that? He is a lawyer! Why else would he want to see me?’

‘Izz, he specialises in company law, not ambulance chasing! Like I said, he’s just concerned as to how you are,’ she said, mopping up with a paper towel, ‘I think he feels some sort of odd sense of responsibility.’

‘Well, he shouldn’t.’

‘No, I told him that too.’

‘Good. Well, that’s that then.’

‘Excellent. Glad that’s settled. Is there any more wine?’


Chapter Three (#ulink_f84f02ca-8024-5e65-ba3e-e2c5f8d89843)

The screen on my phone lit up for the third time in an hour. I glanced over, read the name and pressed ‘Ignore’. Again. The bride-to-be whose dress I was working on noticed.

‘Do you want to get that? It’s ok. I have plenty of time.’ She almost bounced as she said it, her excitement palpable.

I loved this part of my job. I loved almost every bit of my job actually. It was one of the reasons I’d specialised in bridal wear after leaving Central St Martins, degree in hand. For the happiness, the joy and the excitement that came along with it all. Of course, there was the inevitable odd ‘Bridezilla’, but for the most part, the women that came in to my studio were wonderful and fun, and sometimes a little nervous, although the champagne I provided usually took care of that bit. I loved it. Even now.

It had been over six months since my own non-wedding debacle and the pain, and even the anger, were fading more and more each day. I had come to the conclusion that I’d actually been prevented from making one of the biggest mistakes of my life. A full-on, humiliating and very public prevention, but a prevention all the same. It had, dare I say it, been a good thing. I’d even managed to sell my dress. Time really was a healer in this instance. I was moving on. It wasn’t like I was about to start dating again or anything drastic like that just yet, but I was getting through it and doing ok.

I looked up at the bride, smiled, and shook my head, the mouthful of pins I was momentarily sporting a handy excuse for not giving a more informed answer.

‘I saw Rob again yesterday lunchtime. He said he’s tried calling you but you never answer your phone or reply to any of his texts.’

‘Well then, maybe he should take the hint. What does he even want anyway?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe you should answer the phone and find out.’ Mags smiled.

I rolled my eyes.

‘Didn’t he say what he wanted when you saw him?’

Mags shook her head and speared an olive from the antipasti platter in between us. ‘Nope. Just that he’d been trying to ring you.’

‘Did you tell him I don’t want to speak to him?’

‘I didn’t know if you’d been ignoring his calls on purpose or just genuinely missed them, so I didn’t like to say either way.’

‘Well, now you know for sure so feel free to pass on my wishes next time you bump into him.’

I aimed my cocktail stick at the last remaining olive. It glanced off, causing the olive to fly from the table, ricochet off the lovey-dovey couple’s table next to us, and bounce three times on the floor before finally rolling to a stop at the feet of the restaurant owner. He looked down at the offending fruit, then at us, then back at the olive.

‘Oh my God, he’s coming over!’ Mags was now the colour of a beetroot from trying to stifle her laughter in the hushed restaurant. We normally plumped for the noise and bustle of Carluccio’s, but Mags had seen an offer for this one online and the price was too good to miss trying it out. Right now though, I was wishing we’d resisted.

‘Signorina.’

I kicked Mags under the table and looked up at the man. ‘I’m so sorry, it just sort of flew off the plate!’

He nodded. ‘Indeed. You would be surprised how much it happens.’ He smiled, gave a sweet little bow and left, gesturing to a waiter to clear away the escaped food. Moments later he was back, placing another full dish of olives down on the table, and removing the previous, now empty, bowl.

‘On the house.’ He did the little bow again, smiled at both of us, then turned and left.

‘Excellent! Well done Izz,’ Mags dived in and stabbed another unsuspecting olive. She glanced over at the owner and returned his smile before turning back to assess which olive was next. ‘I think you’ve pulled there!’ she stated, spearing her chosen subject.

‘But we could eat for free!’

Mags was again putting forward her case for why I should call the Italian restaurant bloke, after he’d made a point of handing me a business card with his mobile number written on the back. She was right. There were definite benefits. And the guy seemed nice, and was certainly attractive. So what was the problem? Why didn’t I just go for it? Embrace the joys of being a single woman in the heady metropolis of London? Honestly, I couldn’t give her a reason. Instead I tucked my arm around hers and pulled her closer under the umbrella. The snow that had been gently fluttering down earlier had become heavier whilst we’d been devouring our delicious Italian nibbles.

‘He was gorgeous!’ She tried again.

‘I know, I know. I just don’t feel I’m ready to get back on that particular horse yet.’

Mags raised her eyebrows, pondering the connotations of what I just said.

I pulled a face. ‘You know what I mean.’

She sighed. ‘I do.’ She squeezed my arm with hers, ‘I just don’t want you to miss out on anything. But you’re right. You need to do it when you’re ready.’

I hugged her back. ‘Thanks. And I’m sorry about the free food.’

She laughed. ‘I’ll get over it. Probably better for my waistline this way anyway. Oh! There’s my bus. Are you sure you’re ok from here?’

‘Positive. I’m just going to nip in and pick something up from the studio, then go home. Here, take this,’ I said, handing her the umbrella, ‘I’ve got a spare one at work.’

‘Ok, thanks! Love you! Text me later.’ She gave me a quick hug and rushed off in the direction of the stop.

I sheltered under a shop’s overhang and watched to make sure she caught the bus, before turning down the road where my studio resided, the snow inflicting sharp little pinpricks on my cheeks. The silver bells I’d hung tinkled as I unlocked the front door and pushed it open. The notes I wanted were sat on my desk. I grabbed them and put the file in my bag. One of my current brides had some really interesting ideas and I wanted to try sketching out a few designs over the weekend. They were predicting heavy snow, even in the city, so staying in and keeping warm seemed like a good plan. Going back to the door, I lifted the spare umbrella from the coat rack, and stepped outside, the cold wind immediately whipping at my face. I turned the top lock, threw the deadlock, and dropped the keys into my bag before adjusting my scarf a little higher around my neck. The wind was picking up. The spare brolly I’d grabbed wasn’t going to last five minutes. It was just going to be a case of moving as fast as possible to the tube station. Belting my coat securely, ready for the headwind I was about to face, I turned back to the street, and came face to face with Rob.

‘Shit!’ I exclaimed, stumbling back a step and bumping into the door. The snow was settling faster now and beginning to muffle the noise of the city. Including footsteps, apparently.

Rob quickly reached forward, steadying me. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.’

‘I tend to do that when people creep up behind me!’ I snapped, heart still pounding.

‘I wasn’t creeping up on you, Izzy. I just got here and was about to say hello when you turned around.’

I cast my glance up the street to where strings of themed Christmas lights shimmered through the snowflakes. In fact I was looking everywhere but at Rob. I hadn’t seen him since he’d gone out to make the speech at the church. I’d taken the opportunity of the distraction to exit via the side door and grab the first taxi I saw.

When I didn’t say anything, Rob spoke again. ‘I had a meeting with a client…’ He indicated further down the road, explaining his presence in the area.

I nodded without looking at him.

‘How are you?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine. Thank you. You?’

‘Yep. Fine. Thanks.’

I waited, feeling cold and uncomfortable. ‘What do you want, Rob?’

‘To talk to you.’

‘About what?’

Rob let out a sigh and tipped his head forward. Little flurries of snow had settled on his hair, the intense blackness of it highlighting their sparkle. He shook his head gently and they disappeared. A resigned smile was on his lips as he looked back up at me.

‘I thought we were friends.’

‘You were Steven’s best man, not mine.’ I pointed out.

‘Only because you never asked me to be a bridesmaid.’

‘The shoes didn’t come in a size twelve.’

‘Well, at least you checked before discounting me.’

I finally smiled at him. Once again, he was attuned to the horrible awkwardness I was feeling and doing his best to dissipate it. Although, to be fair, the only reason I was feeling awkward was because he was standing there. So, technically, it was his fault anyway. But I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever. He was right. We were friends. Yes, Steven had introduced us, but we’d also become friends in our own right. Not close as such, but friends all the same. Until the wedding day. For some reason, I’d suddenly felt like there were sides. And Rob, with his best man title, automatically fell on Steven’s side. I knew in my heart that wasn’t fair – on him, or me, or our friendship. But it just sort of happened and the longer I went without speaking to him, the harder it got to get over the awkwardness that I knew would arise. And here I was, six months later, feeling awkward as hell.

‘Izzy, please. Can we just go for a drink, and talk?’

I shook my head, noticing that the dampness of the air was beginning to put the curl back into my carefully straightened hair.

‘Is there anything to say?’ I asked, looking directly at him for the first time since he’d turned up. Big mistake. The hurt in his eyes stabbed at my insides. He quickly covered it with a crooked smile.

‘If you have to ask, then no. I don’t suppose there is.’ He turned up the collar of his dark grey wool coat a little more, as the wind picked up again and funnelled itself down the street, ‘Come on, I’ll walk you to the tube.’

‘That’s all right. I… um… haven’t quite finished here, and–’

‘Izzy, for God’s sake!’

I snapped my head up. I’d never once seen Rob angry. He was so laidback, normally being in his company was like a hit of Valium – in a good way. But not tonight. Tonight it seemed I had managed to push the right button.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ he asked.

‘Nothing’s wrong with me!’

‘Then why are you being like this?’

‘Like what, exactly?’

‘Ignoring my calls, my texts. Just generally refusing to speak to me at all and looking at me like you’d wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole! It wasn’t me that left you at the altar, Izz, and I’m damned if I’m going to take the blame for it!’

Silence settled between us. And then, to my utter horror – and apparently Rob’s, judging by the look on his face – I started to cry.

‘Oh no, no no!’ Within a moment, Rob had moved and wrapped his arms around me.

‘Izzy, please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

I gave a reply to say that it wasn’t his fault, I didn’t mean to cry and that I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. That’s how the reply sounded in my head anyway. All that actually came out was a gurgle-y, mumble-y sort of noise.

‘Come on. Let’s get you out of this cold.’

Rob scanned the street and saw a black cab with its light on. He curled his lips and emitted a loud whistle, sticking his hand out to signal the taxi. Seeing the cab turn towards us, he replaced his arm, the warmth of him flooding against me again.

‘I don’t need a cab to the station. It’s not far.’ I said. I knew money wasn’t an issue for Rob, and there was no way he was going to let me pay, but still, I’d been brought up not to waste money. With the traffic crawling even more than usual thanks to the weather, I could probably walk there quicker to get my train anyway.

Rob didn’t reply, merely opened the door for me as the taxi pulled up and stepped in behind me. He gave the driver an address I recognised as his apartment building.

‘Rob,’ I started.

‘I know. You just want to go home.’

He had a knack of being able to do that. Suss out what I was thinking even before I knew I was thinking it.

I nodded.

‘I know,’ he said, ‘but the news alerts have been saying that a load of trains have been cancelled and stations closed. And that was earlier, so goodness knows what it’s like now. The snow’s even heavier further out. It might be worth checking that your train is actually running before you stand freezing on a station platform.’

‘Oh. Umm,’ I sniffed and rifled through my bag for a tissue, ‘good idea. Thanks.’

‘Not a problem. Maybe I should be thanking this weather. At least it’s forced you to talk to me.’

I looked down and studied our damp footprints mixing on the floor.

‘Although I really didn’t mean to make you cry. I sort of did want the ground to swallow me whole right at that moment.’

I glanced up, expecting to see one of his lazy smiles, but his face showed nothing but remorse and honesty. I moved my head on his chest where it still lay after he’d got in the cab and pulled me back into the hug.

‘That makes two of us.’ I replied. And then realised how that sounded. I sat up, pulling away from him, ‘I mean, I wanted the ground to swallow me, not you! Standing there blubbering like an idiot at you for no good reason.’

I felt the warmth of embarrassment start to creep up my neck and pulled my scarf up in the hope of disguising it a little longer. Just as the silence was about to tick over into awkward, the taxi indicated and pulled across to the side of the road. We were in front of Rob’s apartment complex. He handed over a note and told the cabbie to keep the change, before following me out onto the snowy pavement.

As he was paying, I’d gathered myself, standing back from the edge of the road to avoid splashing from passing traffic. I waited, back straight, feeling resolutely British and foolish for my earlier unexpected outburst. Rob looked at me, his gaze becoming quizzical before he turned away to pull open the heavy door that led into the foyer of the swanky address. I hesitated before entering. Really I just wanted to go home but, if the trains were as he said they were, then it really would be best to find out which ones were still running rather than just blindly hoping mine was one of them. The taxi driver who’d dropped us off had mentioned he was glad we’d not asked him to take us further outside the city as his colleagues had been reporting the roads were getting a lot worse. Calling one to get me home was looking less and less likely. I could ring Mags and see if I could at least get to her flat. It was still a journey but less so than getting to my own place.

‘I can see the cogs whirring.’ Rob’s words jolted me out of my thoughts.

‘Sorry?’

Rob smiled as he stood aside for the occupants of the lift to exit before inviting me to enter first.

‘I imagine your brain is currently working feverishly on how to get home?’

I blushed. It really was uncanny how he could read me. If I spent an evening with him and Mags, I don’t think I’d actually have to speak at all. They both had a knack of knowing what I was going to say anyway. Odd that Steven had never had a clue. Although, fair to say, that clearly went both ways as I’d had no idea he was going to ditch me at the altar either.

‘I wouldn’t say “feverishly” exactly,’ I lied, ‘But yes, I am considering what the best solution might be.’

Honestly, I was amazed my nose didn’t grow. And from the amused look Rob gave me, so was he.

‘Stop fretting, Izz. We’ll get you home.’

The lift pinged and the doors swished open. I exited and stood aside, not knowing which way to go. I knew which building Rob lived in, but had never actually been there before. Rob followed me out. He walked down the hall to the end apartment and put his key in the lock. Turning it, he pushed open the door and stepped in, holding the door for me as I caught up.

‘Wow, this is gorgeous!’ I said, walking past him down the hall, pulling off my heels as I did so. Before me, from a huge picture window, the beauty of London shimmered under electric light. Snowflakes glittered past the window in a rush, and the roofs below now had a distinct covering of snow.

‘Yes, I have to admit that the view really sold it to me.’

‘I can see why.’

I turned to look around at the rest of the apartment. It felt welcoming and homely, but in a modern way. It certainly didn’t have the macho, bachelor pad feel I’d been expecting. Rob even had scatter cushions on his sofas! It dawned on me that there was a definite hint of a woman’s touch here. At the thought, a feeling I couldn’t quite explain went through me. I shook it off and looked down at my feet, wiggling my toes. The floor was warm on them. It felt lovely, the soothing feel of the underfloor heating thawing out my frozen toes. In the corner stood a perfectly decorated Christmas tree, with silver and white decorations twinkling in the glow from the accompanying white fairy lights. There were more lights across the mantelpiece and adorning the balustrade of the three steps that separated the kitchen from the main floor. Cards were starting to fill the hangers created for them. It was all elegantly beautiful, like living pages torn from an upmarket décor magazine. I’d seen Rob with girls during the time I’d been engaged to Steven but I’d never heard of him getting particularly serious with anyone. But then again I hadn’t been in touch with him for months. Perhaps something had changed. I surreptitiously glanced around to see if I could spot any other signs of feminine presence. The last thing I needed right now was for a girlfriend to walk in and wonder why the hell her boyfriend had a strange woman, no doubt sporting spectacular panda eyes by this point, in their flat.

‘Would you like something to drink?’ Rob asked.

A hot drink sounded perfect right at that moment. The outside of me was thawing but inside, I still felt chilled to the bone after walking from the restaurant. But I needed to get home. My hesitation told on me.

‘I’m about to check the roads and weather to see about getting you home. But my ears are frozen and I’m pretty sure part of my brain is too. I also work better when I’ve got coffee inside me, so I’m making a drink anyway. You look half frozen and it won’t do you any good if you go down with a chill, will it?’

I thought of my clients. Rob had a point. He also saw me waiver.

‘One hot chocolate coming up. Take a seat, I’ll fire up the laptop in a minute and we can plan your escape route.’

‘Don’t put it like that. I’m not looking to escape from you!’

Rob busied himself at the fancy drinks machine he had on his counter top. His mouth had an amused curve to it as he snagged a couple of the little pots that slid into the machine from a shelf just beside it.

‘Actually I was referring to your escape from the city.’

‘Oh. Of course! Exactly.’

From the corner of my eye I saw Rob almost imperceptibly shake his head as he continued to concentrate on the task in hand. I knew I’d hurt his feelings. He’d been nothing but kind to me from the day of the non-nuptials and I hadn’t had the decency to act the same. It dawned on me that he was right with what he’d said earlier. I mean, he was wrong, but he was right. From where he stood, it probably did look like I was blaming him for the whole wedding debacle – even down to getting punched on the nose! And I didn’t blame him at all. In fact, I had been inordinately glad he’d been there that day, and not just because he’d indirectly saved me from getting arrested for decking a vicar. His presence, his calming demeanour and just the small squeeze of my hand he’d given during those horrible moments when he’d had to tell me Steven wasn’t coming – it had meant so much. Firmly stuck right in the middle, he’d acted with absolute kindness and consideration towards me. I’d never thought about it from his perspective before. How would I have felt if I’d had to deliver a message like that? And all I’d done since was ignore any attempt at contact. I knew the reasons for it – at least some of them. But looking at it now, I could see how confusing it would have been for Rob. Oh God! I was a horrible human being!

Rob put the drinks down on the coffee table, a laptop tucked under his arm.

‘One hot chocolate. Get that inside you and–’ He stopped as he caught a glance at my face, ‘Are you all right? You’ve gone really pale. Look, take this,’ he leant across, pulled a soft blanket from the other sofa and laid it around my shoulders, ‘Do you feel sick, or feverish? I’ve got a mate who’s a doctor. He only lives round the corner, I can give him–’

‘Rob, I’m fine.’ I said, although I didn’t shrug off the blanket. It was so beautifully soft and snuggly.

The look on his face showed he doubted my self-diagnosis and he placed the back of his hand on my forehead.

‘You don’t seem to have a temperature.’ he noted, his voice still sounding doubtful.

‘I don’t. I’m fine.’ I said, picking up one of the mugs from the table.

‘Then why do you look terrible?’

I looked up from my drink. ‘Gee, thanks!’ I laughed, ‘You certainly know how to make a girl feel good!’

Rob tilted his head and pulled a face. ‘You know what I mean. Although your colour does seem to be coming back a little now. Are you sure you’re all right?’

I set my drink back on its coaster and turned to face him. ‘Rob. I’m sorry.’

Confusion clouded his face.

‘For?’ he asked.

I took a deep breath. ‘Well, let’s see. For punching you on the nose–’

‘You already apologised for that at the time,’ he interrupted.

‘Yes, but I didn’t apologise for actually breaking it.’

‘To be fair, you didn’t know you had broken it.’

‘So it’s true? I did break it?’ I replied, a little horrified. I was still secretly hoping Mags had got her facts skewed on this. I don’t know why I thought not breaking his nose was any better than breaking it. I’d still punched him, for goodness’ sake. But in my own little twisted mess of logic, it made a semblance of sense.

‘You did.’

‘Oh my God.’ I covered my face with my hands, shame and embarrassment flooding over me again.

Rob laughed and gave me a quick squeeze around the shoulders. ‘Don’t even think about it, Izz. I’ve been playing rugby since I was six years old. It’s not the first time it’s been broken. I doubt it’ll be the last, either.’

I dropped my hands down to my lap and slid my glance to him.

‘Honestly. It’s ok. Frankly, I was kind of impressed.’

‘What? Why?’

Rob laughed. ‘Izzy, look at you! You’re this petite, waif-y, very feminine-looking little thing who looks like she’d blow over in a strong breeze and you knocked a six-foot-three, seventeen stone rugby playing bloke on his arse and broke his nose.’

‘And that’s impressive? I’m more inclined to call it mortifying! And I’m not sure how I feel about being called a “waif-y little thing” either.’

‘It wasn’t meant in a derogatory way. A lot of men find it very attractive – look at Kylie! So don’t knock it. And yes, it is impressive. I’m still getting jibes at the club about being decked by a girl. Either way, it certainly makes me worry less about you walking to the tube!’

‘Oh dear. I’m sorry you’re getting teased. I didn’t really think that whole thing through.’

‘Don’t worry. I give as good as I get.’

I grinned. ‘That I believe.’

‘That’s the first real smile I’ve seen from you all evening.’

At his words, the smile faded a little.

‘Uh oh. Looks like I should have kept quiet.’

I rolled my eyes at him and he chuckled, sipping his coffee.

‘Let’s have a look at this weather.’ he said, opening the laptop.

I put my hand on the lid and closed it again, gently. Rob looked up, the same expression of confusion on his face as he’d shown earlier. Poor Rob. I had a feeling he wished his meeting had been elsewhere this evening, which would have allowed him to avoid bumping into me and inadvertently boarding the Isabel Emotional Rollercoaster.

‘I need to apologise for some other things, and I need to do it now. I’ve already let it go on for far too long.’

Rob didn’t say anything so I carried on.

‘I’m sorry I walked out at the church. I should have stayed until you came back in from making the announcement, not least to thank you for doing that.’

I could see Rob was about to say something. I put my hand on his arm to stall him.

‘I never thought about the position that you were in. Having to come and tell me Steven wasn’t coming. I know you and I weren’t close but we were friends, and I’m pretty sure, from what I knew – know – of you, that it wasn’t an easy thing for you to have to do. I’m sorry that you were put in that position and I’m sorry that I didn’t handle it better.’

‘Izzy.’ Rob moved and took my hands in his. They practically disappeared within them. I never thought of myself as particularly petite. Mags was pretty dinky too so there was no big comparison usually. Now, sat next to Rob, my hands engulfed in his, I could see why he’d describe me as waif-like. And I realised that, from him, I didn’t mind it. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard a similar term, but from Rob it had seemed like a compliment. That was new. I looked up from our hands and into Rob’s gentle brown eyes, surrounded by ridiculously long, thick and jealousy-inducing dark lashes.

‘Izz?’ His voice sounded unsure.

‘Sorry, yes?’ I came back from the lash envy.

‘Please don’t ever blame yourself for what happened. None of it was your fault. And I really don’t like to think of you believing that any of it was.’

I pulled a face. ‘I’m pretty sure some of it was down to me. I mean, it was me that he didn’t want to marry, after all.’

‘And he’s a fool for that!’ There was an edge to Rob’s voice that I’d rarely heard. I tried to meet his eyes but he’d already turned away. Letting go of my hands, he pushed my mug towards me.

‘This is getting cold.’

I leant forward and picked up the mug, cradling it in my hands, enjoying the warmth.

‘I wanted to say sorry for ignoring all your calls and texts, too. I don’t know why I did. Well, I do, I suppose.’

Rob still wasn’t looking at me. I carried on.

‘I was just embarrassed. At having been stood up. At having punched you. At having fled like an overly dramatic heroine in a Barbara Cartland novel. Just at everything. And I suppose I thought that having contact with you was too close to having contact with Steven.’

I felt Rob stiffen next to me.

‘I understand.’ His voice was tight. ‘As I said, you shouldn’t feel responsible for anything that happened that day. Everything that went wrong was down to Steven being a twat. It’s as simple as that. And I can see now why you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. What was supposed to be the best day of your life turned out to be one of the worst. And as the messenger, you’re always going to associate me with that day, that moment. It’s understandable. I guess I never thought about it like that. I just wanted to know that you were ok. Mags had assured me that you were – at least that you were putting on a brave face, which I knew you would. But I suppose I needed to see for myself. I realise now that I should have just taken Mags’ word and not barrelled in.’

‘Rob…’

He looked at me for the first time since he’d started his speech. ‘There’s something I do need you to know though. I am nothing like Steven. I would never, ever have done that to you – to anyone,’ he corrected himself, ‘I went to see him straight after and told him exactly what I thought of his actions and his cowardice. We haven’t spoken since.’

‘Oh Rob, no! I never meant for you to fall out with Steven over this. What happened between us shouldn’t affect your friendship. One has nothing to do with the other.’

‘Yes, it does, Izzy. And of course it’s going to affect it. How could it not? He ensured that it would by dumping me right in the middle of it all. And he lied to me. I was supposed to stay over the night before. We were going to go out and get breakfast in the morning then go back to the flat and get ready. Steven cancelled the night before and said he had a really bad headache.’

‘He told me the same thing when I called to say goodnight. He does get bad headaches.’ I obviously wasn’t Steven’s biggest fan right now but I also had a streak of fair play running through me, which forced me to confirm his account and reasons. Annoyingly.

‘Yeah I know. And I know that the nerves might have kicked it off, which is why I didn’t think too much of it. But then he said that he wouldn’t be able to do breakfast the next day either. I asked him why and he just said that he thought it would be better to have a lie in. When I asked him if everything was ok, he said it was. That he just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to feel bad at the wedding. I took him at his word because I never had reason to doubt him.’

‘What is it that you’re saying?’

‘I’m saying that Steven knew the night before that he wasn’t going to be at that church.’

I looked at Rob. ‘You don’t know that.’ I said, my voice betraying my own uncertainty.

Rob ran a hand over his hair. ‘Yeah, Izz. I do. He told me.’

I couldn’t help the tears that pricked at my eyes, even though I willed them away. Rob noticed anyway.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

‘Yes. You should. Please. Just tell me what else you know.’

‘There isn’t much else to tell. He said he’d meet me at the church instead. So, on the day it was getting later and later, and he wasn’t answering his phone. I had all these visions that something awful had happened and was kicking myself for not going round. I was just about to drive over there when he finally picked up and told me that he couldn’t do it. That he just didn’t feel ready to get married.’

‘I never pressured him into getting engaged or setting a date. You have to know that.’

‘No. I know you didn’t.’ Rob took my hand, ‘It wasn’t your fault. None of it. Please don’t ever forget that.’

I smiled at his sincerity.

‘Ok. But you still don’t know that Steven didn’t just panic at the last minute.’ I had no idea whether I was trying to defend Steven – and if so, why. Or if it was that, somehow, being stood up at the last minute was better than the alternative Rob was hinting at.

‘I asked him outright. When I went round there after you’d left.’

I shook my head.

‘I’m sorry, Izz. I guess Steven had changed more than I thought over the years. The bloke I went to uni with would never have acted like that. He would have had the guts to sort it out earlier. And he would have had the guts to tell you himself.’

‘Thereby reducing the chance that you’d be the one to get a fist in the face.’

Rob gave me half a crooked grin, ‘I have to admit, I hadn’t even considered that was a remote possibility until it happened. Perhaps Steven was more canny than I thought. Although he did look pretty shocked when I turned up at his place suitably bloody.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘He thought your dad might have done it.’

‘Dad would never have hit you. He knew you had nothing to do with it. Though, I can’t guarantee he wouldn’t have floored Steven, given the opportunity.’

‘Good to know. But, like I said, maybe I shouldn’t have told you.’

‘No. I’m glad you did. I know this can’t have been easy for you, Rob. And I’m so sorry that it’s caused you to lose a friend.’

‘Yeah. Me too. But I asked him if everything was ok the night before. I gave him the opportunity to tell me then and there. If he had just told me then, I would have understood.’ He pulled a face, ‘Well, understood might be an overstatement. But dealt with it better, at least. There might have been a chance at salvaging the friendship. But not this way. He lied to me. He lied to you. He left you to face everyone. On your own.’

‘I wasn’t on my own.’ I said softly, touching my shoulder against his for a moment, but keeping my face turned away, just until I regained my composure a little more.

‘Izzy. I know it’ll always be hard for you to disassociate me from that day, and I can understand that. I understand if you don’t want to ever see me again but if you’ll permit me to ask one thing of you, it’s that you never lump me together with Steven just because, for one day, we were supposed to wear matching suits.’

I didn’t really know what to say. My throat felt like it was closing up, so even if I’d known what to say, I’m not sure I would have been able to voice it. Instead I just shook my head. I swallowed hard.

‘I promise.’ I replied, eventually.

A brief smile flashed on Rob’s face, not quite hitting his eyes.

‘Ok. Now that’s all sorted, let’s see about getting you home.’

I glanced up at the huge window. There were curtains hanging either side but I doubted Rob ever closed them. With a view like that, I certainly wouldn’t. The snow was still falling and if anything, had only got heavier. When I looked back, Rob had the laptop open and was looking at a couple of different pages showing weather, roads and live traffic updates. His teeth worried his bottom lip as he concentrated.

‘How’s it looking?’ I asked when I couldn’t bear the suspense any longer.

‘Yeah, umm, I think we can work something out.’ He threw me a smile before going back to the computer.

I burst out laughing. Rob turned, his expression a mixture of surprise and confusion.

‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, a smile forming on his face in response to mine.

‘You.’

‘I’m not sure I like the sound of that.’

I grinned again and bumped against his side in jest. ‘You are absolutely the world’s worst liar.’

He pulled a face. ‘I am?’

‘I’m afraid so. But don’t worry. That’s not a bad thing. Actually, it’s a pretty good thing in my book.’ I smiled, honestly. I’d had more than enough of being lied to. And I knew why Rob was trying to cover his fib in this case. He knew I wanted to get home, but I was guessing from his terrible lie that the roads and weather were pretty bad.

‘How do you ever win court cases?’

‘What?’ he asked, a completely bemused look on his face.

‘You do have court cases sometimes, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ he answered slowly, clearly having no idea where this conversation was going.

‘Well, don’t you have to be able to fool people, and stuff? If your attempt at telling me the roads were fine is anything to go by, I – and don’t take this the wrong way – I don’t think you can be very good at it.’

‘So what you’re saying is, not only do you count me in the same low level of humanity as your ex, but you also think I’m terrible at my job? Is that what you’re saying?’

I sat for a moment looking at him. His honest face had transformed into one with a completely unreadable expression. And put like that, it sort of did sound like that’s what I was saying. But I wasn’t! And then I caught it. The little smirk that was starting at the corner of his mouth.

‘Oh, you!’ I grabbed a scatter cushion and whacked him with it. ‘That wasn’t what I was saying at all. And you know it!’

‘Fair enough,’ he laughed, ‘and for your information, lying isn’t a part of my job. I have to go on what the facts say. And whilst I am apparently the “world’s worst liar”, I do have a pretty good poker face, which comes in far more handy in my job. Thank goodness.’

‘You certainly do.’ There was no denying that. Until I’d seen that grin start to sneak out, I’d had no idea as to what his reaction was to what he thought I was saying.

‘So,’ I started, replacing my weapon in the corner of the sofa, ‘I’m guessing that the roads are pretty bad.’

Rob pulled an apologetic face. ‘I’m afraid they’re not looking the best.’ He pulled the computer from the table onto his lap and pointed at the traffic page he had up, ‘I’ve looked at all the possible routes we could try. They’re all showing red at the moment.’

‘And red’s obviously not good.’

‘No. Red means traffic’s pretty much at a standstill. From what I can see, it looks like there’s been an accident on the main route out and, of course, everyone else has tried to find other ways, which, with the weather and increased volume of traffic, has just bunged them up too.’

‘Oh. That’s not good then, is it?’

‘Not really. I mean, we can try–’

‘We?’

‘Yes, we.’

‘You don’t need to do all this for me, you know,’ I said, ‘besides, I’m not sure I really deserve it with the way I’ve treated you,’ I paused. ‘And for the record, I’d hate it if I never saw you again.’

Rob looked up from the traffic website. ‘Why don’t we just forget all about that now? Start anew?’

I returned the gentle smile he was giving me. ‘Actually that sounds pretty good.’

‘Agreed. Now. Let’s have another look at this weather.’


Chapter Four (#ulink_e52a3cc0-5bbd-55a8-90d7-06a657007a94)

Rob grabbed the remote control, pressed a button and his TV came on with a little welcome message. He punched in some numbers with his thumb and BBC News 24 came up.

‘…with all main routes out of London currently extremely slow or blocked entirely.’

I looked at Rob and pulled a face. ‘That doesn’t sound too promising, does it?’

‘Don’t give up yet,’ Rob smiled, ‘let’s consult The Oracle.’

‘The Oracle?’

He grinned. ‘Twitter.’

He switched back to the main screen on his laptop and pressed the tile for the Twitter app. His timeline immediately filled the screen and I leant over a little to see what was trending. Sure enough #snow was right near the top. Rob tapped on it to see what opinions were being given out on the subject. Typically, there were various versions of ‘America gets tonnes more of the stuff and things don’t grind to a halt.’ Rob and I glanced at each other and rolled our eyes. ‘That old chestnut’ the exchange said silently. The fact that America got tonnes of the stuff was exactly the reason why things didn’t grind to a halt. I imagined that the same people who were moaning about the situation now would probably be the same ones moaning if a fleet of highly expensive snow ploughs were sat in a shed unused for ninety-nine per cent of the time because ‘it’s not like we get tonnes of the stuff very often.’ Rob skimmed over those tweets and looked for something more constructive.

He found a tag labelled #Londonsnow and touched it. Another stream opened up. Silently we scanned over the tweets. I glanced at Rob and could see that even his optimism was failing. From the television we heard the announcement that they were ‘…now going live to our reporter, Beth Sanders.’ Beth thanked the anchor and began her report, advising that she was standing on one of the main arteries in and out of London to the south, which was now entirely blocked due to the snow. Behind her we could see lines of cars, some off at an angle, clearly abandoned. The reporter began an interview with one driver who had chosen to stick with his car. Looking completely fed up and frozen to the bone, the man relayed how, even though he’d left work early, he’d still now been stuck in his current position for over five hours.

I groaned audibly. ‘Oh, that poor man.’ I looked over at Rob and could see him weighing something up in his mind. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘Ok, look,’ he turned to me, reducing the volume on the TV a little, ‘obviously those roads are pretty blocked up, but I know you want to get home. The Range Rover will go pretty much anywhere and I know a couple of short cuts–’

‘No! Absolutely not!’ I cut in.

Rob looked slightly taken aback at my vehemence.

‘I’m not getting home tonight and that’s that. There’s no way I’m going to ask you to put yourself at risk to get me there.’

‘You didn’t ask me and I wouldn’t put either of us at risk. You know me better than that.’

‘No. Final answer. I’ll just ring round and find a hotel–’

‘No! Absolutely not!’ Rob returned my own words to me.

‘Pardon?’

‘There’s no need for you to stay at a hotel. There’s a perfectly good guest bedroom here.’

‘Oh! No! I couldn’t… I…’

Rob tilted his head at me, waiting for me to finish.

I sat up a little straighter and tried again. ‘I couldn’t possibly do that, Rob. I mean, it’s very kind of you, but you’ve already done so much this evening, trying to get me home.’

‘Izzy, I’ve looked up a couple of websites and put the news on. That’s all.’

‘No, that’s not all. If it wasn’t for you, I’d likely still be standing at the station freezing my backside off!’

‘Well, then I’m glad I came along because that really would be a crime.’ He gave me a cheeky wink, closed the laptop and put it aside. Then he rose and jogged up the three steps to the kitchen, heading for the fridge. ‘Beer or wine?’

‘Hang on, I don’t think we finished discussing this.’ I said, following him into the kitchen.

‘Yes we did,’ he said, his head now practically entirely inside the fridge as he rooted around at the back. He popped back out and shut the door, two ready meals in his hands, ‘Which one of these do you want? Sorry it’s nothing grander, but I wasn’t expecting company tonight and I’m loathe to try and ask anyone to deliver tonight in this weather, even if they were prepared to.’

I put aside the fact that Rob was bossing me about for a moment to reflect on the fact that he was showing such consideration to takeaway delivery people, and thought again how sweet he could be. But then I was straight back to the matter in hand.

I glanced down at the meals in his hands. They both looked delicious. But I wasn’t used to being told when and where I was staying. Even though I knew it was all meant in the best and kindest way.

‘Rob. I really do appreciate the offer but I think it’s best if I just find a hotel. I’ve imposed on you enough. Besides, I’ve already eaten. Mags and I had dinner.’

‘No imposition.’ he stated, jiggling the boxes of food in his hands in question again, ‘And you can just have a bit of one to keep me company. Any preference?’

I let out a huff. He was obviously sweet but, by God, he was also clearly stubborn as hell when he wanted to be.

‘Thank you, but I’m not hungry.’ I said. At which point my mutinous stomach let out the most enormous growl.

‘No. I can tell.’ Rob was wearing his poker face, but it didn’t last long. I saw the corners of his eyes crinkle as my stomach rumbled again. He put the food on the counter and placed his hands on my upper arms.

‘Izzy. Come on. Clearly you’re hungry. I know I am.’

My traitorous body wasn’t letting me out of this one so I conceded. ‘Ok, yes I’m hungry. Mags is on a pre-Christmas diet so we both just had antipasti. Which is fine, by the way! But I missed lunch. So, yes, I am a bit hungry.’

‘And it would seem you get grouchy when you’re hungry.’ Rob smiled, somehow softening the blow of the extremely accurate observation.

‘Wow.’ I said, flatly, ‘You’ve really got this gracious host thing sussed.’

Rob laughed, letting go of me and poking holes with a knife in the plastic wrap coverings of the ready meals. He opened the microwave and shoved them both in, adjusting the timings so that they’d both be ready together. Pulling open the cutlery drawer, he handed me knives and forks, before going back to his original question.

‘So, beer or wine?’

A few minutes later, we were sat next to one another on the sofa, ready meals tipped out onto plates, with red wine filling our glasses. The TV was still on the news channel, and showing reports of increasingly miserable looking drivers stuck on various routes, in and around the south east. Reporter Beth was looking colder and colder by the minute. I knew that, but for the grace of Rob, there go I. Except I would have been in a far worse position because, unlike Beth, who was decked out from head to foot in North Face winter ready clothing and boots, I had set out this morning in a knee-length wool coat and four-inch heels. Both of these I knew looked fabulous but were definitely not up to the job of keeping me warm whilst I stood waiting for a train that was never going to come. But staying at Rob’s tonight? Why was I having such a hard time with that? We were friends – again – that obstacle, at least, thankfully seemed to have been surmounted. And I stayed over with Mags plenty of times when we’d been out on the town or had a movie night in with popcorn and jammies. Mags was a friend. Rob was a friend. So staying over here was just like staying over at Mags’. Wasn’t it?

‘Those cogs are whirring again.’ Rob broke into my thoughts.

I took a sip of my wine, and hoped I didn’t have Ribena smiles. Best to be honest. ‘I just feel a little awkward about staying here tonight.’

‘Why?’

Honestly, I had no idea.

‘I don’t really know. I suppose tonight’s just sort of taken me by surprise – I mean, I haven’t spoken to you in six months and then I bump into you, promptly cry all over you, and then you offer to risk life and limb to get me home, feed me and offer me a bed for the night because it turns out I have zero chance of getting home tonight. I just – I think it’d be better if I went to a hotel. I just think it’d be less awkward.’

Rob nodded slowly, then looked directly at me with those eyes the colour of a melting Galaxy chocolate bar.

‘Izzy. We’re friends, right? We established that?’

‘Yes. We are.’

‘Ok good. So if you’d got to Mags’ place and realised you couldn’t get home, would you be saying that you should go and find a hotel?’

‘No, of course not, but–’

‘But what?’

‘But…’ I didn’t actually know “but what”. Rob had once again delved into what I was thinking and laid it out there for us both to see. I really was going to have to keep closer control of my thoughts.

‘Is it because I’m a bloke and you’re not?’ He was grinning.

‘Oh I don’t know!’ I bumped my head down onto my knees, feeling just the tiniest bit idiotic.

Rob laughed and rubbed my back. ‘Come on, Izz. We’re friends. Nothing more. And no offence, I’m not looking for anything but friendship from you. If you were a great big hairy rugby player, I’d still have fed you and offered you a room rather than letting you freeze on a station platform. The fact that you’re…’

‘Waif-y?’ I filled in for him from my hunched over position.

‘I was going to say “not”,’ he laughed, ‘just means that I at least got to eat one of those meals.’

‘But I don’t have any spare clothes – or my toothbrush!’ I said, sitting up.

‘I can stick your stuff in the washing machine, and put it in the dryer. You can borrow something to sleep in, and I have spare toothbrushes.’

I rolled my lips inwards at the plural. ‘Toothbrushes, eh? That implies more than one.’

Rob waggled his eyebrows. ‘Cheaper in bulk.’

I rolled my eyes and he laughed.

‘Ok. Fine. Then thank you. If you’re sure I’m not imposing–’

‘You’re not imposing.’

‘Or my being here isn’t going to cause any…’

Rob frowned, but the smile remained on his lips. ‘Any what?’

‘Umm…’

‘Izzy, just tell me what on Earth you’ve thought of this time?’

‘I just don’t want you getting in trouble if your girlfriend walks in, and you’ve got another female here. I mean, not that we’re, you know… we’re just friends, but if she just walks in and there’s another woman here, and she doesn’t know then she might–’

‘She won’t.’ Rob said, shaking his head at me, a look of incredulousness fixing on his features, ‘She won’t, because she doesn’t exist. I don’t have a girlfriend to walk in unsuspectingly. And before your crazy mind goes off on yet another tangent, I don’t have a boyfriend either. Just for absolute clarification. Now that’s taken care of, are there any other scenarios you need to tell me about that might possibly happen, or can we please just sit and relax?’

‘No. I can’t think of anything else.’ I said.

‘Thank goodness.’ Rob said, with a little more feeling than I’d have liked.

‘At the minute.’ I added, just for that.

He looked at me for a long moment.

I pulled a face and half smiled. ‘Don’t tell me. Now you’re beginning to think that Steven might have been on the right track leaving me.’

I saw a shadow flit across Rob’s eyes, before he smiled. ‘Nope. Not even close. I still think he’s a twat. Now, switch that mind of yours to a slower speed, put your feet up and just relax.’

I smiled back at him. ‘I’m not sure it has a slower speed. But I can try.’

‘Great!’ Rob said happily as he let out a sigh and stuck his long legs out on the coffee table in front of us.

‘Do you want to watch a film?’ he asked.

‘Yep, sure.’ I answered. That actually sounded pretty nice. Wine, warmth, good company and something nice and inane on the telly. Although, oh dear, Rob was a really intelligent guy. I watched as he brought up the video streaming service and hoped he didn’t head to the ‘Foreign Films’ section. I couldn’t deal with subtitles tonight.

‘What do you fancy?’ he asked.

‘Me?’

He laughed. ‘Of course, you. You’re my guest.’

‘Oh! I really don’t mind.’ I snuggled into the sofa a little more, grabbing the blanket that Rob had put around my shoulders earlier. ‘Although nothing with subtitles.’ I decided to come clean because I knew he’d only fish out that thought from my brain anyway.

‘Subtitles?’

‘Yeah, you know. Something foreign with subtitles. Preferably not that. Although, of course, it is your house, so if you–’

‘Oh God, please don’t tell me you think I look like a hipster.’

I gave a hearty laugh. Hipster? Rob? Umm, that would be a no.

‘Hardly! You look like you might have eaten a hipster, but you definitely don’t look like one yourself.’

He laughed. ‘I don’t think there’s much meat on them, from what I’ve seen. So why do you think I would be watching foreign films?’

‘Because you’re intelligent and well-travelled and… stuff.’ I explained, articulately.

‘Well, thank you for the compliment. But whilst I’m sure there are plenty of very good foreign films out there, I’m afraid when it comes to movies I don’t like to have to think too hard. I want to just sit and watch, and shove popcorn in my mouth. That’s about all I need from a film. Not very deep and meaningful I’m afraid but that’s about the size of it.’

‘I couldn’t agree more!’ I grinned at him.

He seemed happy with that revelation and looked back at the television. ‘So, what’ll it be? There’s a “blow lots of stuff up” one here, or what about this one? I heard that’s supposed to be good.’

‘Rob?’

‘Umhmm?’ he asked, reading the description.

‘That’s a romantic comedy.’

‘Yeah. So? Don’t you like romantic comedies?’

‘I do. But do you?’

‘Sure. Some of them are pretty funny. And who doesn’t like a happy ending?’

‘Are you taking the wotsit out of me?’

‘Absolutely not. Ask my sister. I’ve watched enough with her. Actually she got me into them so if I’ve suddenly gone down in your estimation, then feel free to blame her.’

‘Down?’ I stated, surprise that he would think that clearly evident in my voice, ‘No, not at all. I just – I suppose I didn’t expect that of you. But, it’s a nice surprise. Don’t get me wrong. A lot of blokes just moan the whole way through. Sort of takes the edge off the enjoyment.’

Rob leant back against the sofa cushions as he pressed play on the movie. ‘By most blokes, you mean Steven?’ He rolled his head to the side to look at me.

I rolled my head in a similar fashion. ‘He wasn’t exactly a fan, no.’

‘Ok. Well, as I say. I like them. Blame my sister. And bonus for me, the women in them are usually pretty hot.’

‘Aha! I knew there had to be another reason!’

‘Oh,’ Rob scoffed at me, ‘and tell me you’re not going to be drooling over him five minutes in.’ he asked, pointing the remote at the admittedly suitably handsome male lead.

‘Ha!’ I said, ‘You see, that shows how little you really know me.’

Rob raised a disbelieving eyebrow at me. ‘Oh really?’

‘Yes, really.’ I said, leaning over to grab a handful of the popcorn he’d now tipped out into a bowl. ‘It will be at least ten minutes.’


Chapter Five (#ulink_d891e142-e61c-58e3-a773-9821af8239fe)

The credits rolled on the film and I stretched my legs out under the fuzzy blanket. The wine was all gone and Rob had gradually slouched right down during the movie until his legs were now almost hanging off the other edge of the coffee table.

‘Would you like some more wine?’ he asked, as he wriggled back up into a semi seated position.

‘Oh no, thanks! I’ve got some designs to work on tomorrow. Hangover Head would not be helpful.’

‘Fair enough. Can I get you a coffee or anything?’

He really was a great host, despite my dig at him earlier.

I smiled. ‘No, really. I’m fine. Thank you.’

‘Ok.’ He wriggled a bit more and pushed himself off the sofa. Leaning down he picked up the glasses and bottle in one hand and the popcorn bowl in the other. I made to help but he shook his head.

‘It’s all right. You look comfy. Stay there.’

I was comfy. I was beyond comfy. I picked up the remote and switched the TV off, then laid my head back on the sofa and looked out of the picture window. The lights in the room were low and offered little reflection on the glass. I sat and watched as London slowly covered with snow. Rob was scootling about in the kitchen, eventually coming to sit down on the table, next to my feet, a coffee cup in his hands. We sat there in companionable silence for a while, just watching the snow fall on the city. Eventually I looked up at him, without lifting my head.

‘Won’t that keep you awake?’ I indicated the coffee cup with my eyes.

‘Nope.’

‘Oh.’

‘Sure you don’t want one?’

I smiled. ‘Yep. Thanks. I’m ok.’

We turned our attention back to the window and then both jumped when my phone let out a noise that I recognised as Mags’ personal text tone.

I pushed myself up and pulled the phone off the table.

Just wanted to check you got home ok. Saw that trains being delayed/cancelled. Sorry I didn’t call earlier. Met someone!!!!

I frowned at the phone. Met someone? How could she have met someone? I saw her get on the bus and the stop was about a five-minute walk from her front door.

Where did you meet them?

I waited.

On bus. Normally drives to work but car in garage today. Went for drink. Gorgeous!!!!

I was pleased for her. Obviously I’d have to check him out. That was our unwritten rule. But if he’d got past the hurdle of getting Mags to have a drink with him in the first place, he was doing pretty well. Mags wasn’t one for wasting her time on people. I think it came as part of our peripatetic background. Moving around had meant we didn’t get the chance to form a lot of long term relationships. We got to sussing out pretty quickly whether people were worth us investing what would inevitably be our short time, or whether that time would be better spent with someone else. It sounded harsh but was really just a case of making the best of the situation. It was pretty clear I’d lost the knack over the years, having wasted four years of investment time with Steven. But Mags? She still had it.

‘Mags met someone.’ I said. For some reason, telling Rob seemed the most natural thing to be doing.

‘When?’

‘Tonight.’

‘I thought you were together tonight?’

‘She met him on the bus.’

Rob pulled a face that said ‘hmm, interesting’ and moved to the chair, putting his now empty cup on the table.

‘So, what’s she said about him?’

‘Not much. That she met him on the bus and went for a drink.’

‘Blimey. I’ve known you for four years and I still couldn’t get you to go for a drink with me tonight.’

‘Oh ha ha!’ I stuck my tongue out at him, ‘I’m here now, aren’t I? And we had food and drink. Anyway. Different situation.’ I stated.

‘How so?’

‘Because this bloke’s obviously got different interests in Mags than you have in me.’

Rob did a thing with his hand that indicated more explanation was required.

I gave him a look. ‘He asked her for a drink because he wanted to check her out, not check up on her.’

Rob did a small nod. My phone made its little noise again. I looked down at the screen.

So you got home ok?

Hmm.

Sort of. Train cancelled. Tree on line.

What does ‘sort of’ mean??? Are you ok? Where are you???

Mags loved a punctuation mark.

Here we go.

At Rob’s.

I pressed ‘Send’ and looked at Rob who was now peacefully resting his head on the back of the chair and watching the snow. He looked relaxed. And for some reason that made me smile. He turned his head and caught me watching him. Oh shit. That looked weird. I jumped in.

‘My phone is going to ring in a moment.’

A slow smile spread from one corner of his mouth. ‘Did you get psychic when I wasn’t looking?’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Nope. But Mags just asked if I was home. Which I’m not. So she asked where I was.’

‘And you’ve said here…which for some reason is going to make your phone ring?’

As if on cue, my phone lit up, and Mags’ ringtone jingled out, a cute picture of her appearing on the screen as it did so.

I flipped my hand out as if to say ‘Ta dah!’

Rob looked confused, laughed and went back to watching the snow as I picked up my phone. Unwillingly I unwrapped myself and got up from the sofa as I answered, touching Rob’s arm as I did so, handing him the blanket and pointing to indicate he should sit there instead of folding his huge frame into the armchair. He smiled at me, and nodded, his hand brushing mine as he took the blanket.

‘Hi.’ I answered, walking over towards the other side of the room.

‘Hi?’ Mags repeated, ‘You can’t just tell me that you’re at Rob’s flat in the middle of the night and then just say “hi” when you answer the phone!’

‘What?’ I laughed. Apparently, Gorgeous Bus Boy had bought my friend more than one drink. She sounded positively tipsy. ‘Then how am I supposed to answer the phone?’

‘What happened? How come you’re there? Did you kiss him yet? Oh my God! Are you in bed? Oh! I’m so sorry! I’ll call you–’

‘Mags! Mags!’ I raised my voice and jumped in front of her train of thought.

‘What?’

‘What are you on? It’s Rob! Of course I haven’t kissed him and oh my God, no! We’re not in bed! Why on Earth would you think that?’

‘I… just thought…’

‘No. Definitely not. It’s not like that.’ I was doing my best to try and keep the very awkward conversation as low in volume as possible, but casually. Without it seeming like I was bothered about Rob hearing. I had a feeling I was failing miserably.

‘I bumped into him outside my studio, they were cancelling trains all over the place, including mine, so I ended up coming back to his place so that we could take a look at the traffic and the weather. All the roads are blocked solid. We had a microwave meal and watched a film.’ I thought I may as well tell her everything in case something came up later and she read more into it because I hadn’t mentioned it.

‘And now?’ she asked.

‘And now what?’

She let out a sigh. ‘What. Happens. Now.’

‘Nothing. Happens. Now.’ I said, ‘I’m going to bed shortly.’

A squeak of excitement came from Mags’ end of the line.

‘On my own.’ I clarified, but couldn’t help laughing, ‘What’s got into you tonight?’

‘Nothing.’ she replied. ‘It’s just that Rob is nice. Really nice. He’s been so concerned about you, and now he’s shown up on your doorstep, like a white knight–’

‘Oh blimey! Bus Boy really sprinkled the love dust on you tonight, didn’t he?’

‘He did not!’ Mags said, but there wasn’t as much indignation in her voice as I would have expected. Wow. Bus Boy really had made an impression.

‘Ok. Well, I’m going to go to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Hopefully the snow will have gone then and I can get home.’

‘Ok. Sleep well!’ Mags said, her voice indicating that she thought that sleeping should be the last thing on my mind.

‘You’re potty. Love you. Night night.’ I said, and pressed ‘End’.

I walked back to the sofa, put the phone on the table and plopped back down next to Rob. He shooshed the blanket out so that it covered both of our legs. And for some reason, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt natural. I was just about to start wondering if that should worry me when Rob spoke.

‘Is Mags ok?’

‘Yep. I think Bus Boy got her a bit drunk. But yeah, she’s ok. I think she might actually really like this guy. She was acting a bit lovey-dovey.’

Rob didn’t look at me but out of the corner of my eye, I saw him raise his eyebrows. He’d know Mags long enough to know that was an unusual state of affairs for her.

‘I know.’ I agreed with his silent statement.

‘So, she knows you’re here then.’

‘Yes.’

‘She all right with that?’

I looked at him. ‘Why wouldn’t she be?’

‘I don’t know. I just didn’t want her thinking that I was, I don’t know, taking advantage of you, or something.’

A giggle burst up. ‘You’re frightened of her!’

‘I am not!’ Rob defended himself, ‘I’m just saying that I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea about us. About this.’

‘Afraid of another broken nose?’

Rob pulled a face. ‘Somehow I don’t think Mags would be that generous.’

He probably had a point. His nose might well be the last of his worries.

‘She won’t get the wrong idea, Rob. I promise. I put her straight on that.’

He looked at me. ‘So, she did suggest something?’

‘Why do I suddenly feel as if I’m in the witness box?’

He smiled at me.

‘You look like a shark about to attack,’ I laughed. ‘Is that what you do? Put people at ease with your easy manner and gorgeous smile before going straight for the jugular!’

Now it was his turn to laugh. ‘You’ve been watching too much Law and Order.’

I wobbled my head in a ‘maybe yes, maybe no’ sort of way.

‘And you didn’t answer my question.’

‘Oh my God!’ I laughed, resting my head on the back of the sofa, ‘You are not going to let this go, are you?’

‘I just don’t want Mags thinking I’m–’

‘Rob. She doesn’t. Ok? Don’t worry about it. She knows you’re just being a friend.’ I bumped against him in a gesture of reassurance. He smiled and nodded without looking at me.

‘Good.’ he said. ‘Yep, that’s good. Right. I’d better find you a toothbrush, hadn’t I?’ With that, he got up and headed off towards the bathroom.

Half an hour later I was sat ready for bed in Rob’s guest room. I stood up and looked at the image in the mirror. Rob had leant me a pyjama top that was still in its packet.

‘I only ever wear the bottoms.’ he’d explained, handing it over to me.

To say it was a little big was a mild understatement. Let’s just say, I probably didn’t actually need to stay in Rob’s flat – I could camp out just in this shirt. The top covered most of my thighs, the sleeves brushed my knees and there was about a mile of fabric each side of my body. Sweetly, he’d also included a pair of socks which again, although miles too big, were lovely and cosy.

Ever since I’d pulled an all-nighter at the studio a couple of years ago – a bride had come in for a final fitting having spent the previous three weeks on a clearly very effective crash diet – I now always made sure I was prepared for another. A flannel, toothbrush and travel sized toothpaste sat neatly in a cosmetic bag in my desk drawer. I preferred to keep the set of spare underwear closer to hand. The remote, yet still possible, chance that someone looking for something in my drawer may unwittingly plonk my undies out into full view gave me a twitch. Which is why they lived in a securely zipped pocket of my carry-everywhere tote. A fact I was extremely glad of at this precise moment. Rob might be sweet enough to lend me pyjamas and socks but I was pretty sure I’d be out of luck in the underwear department and there was no way on Earth I was going to go ‘commando’.

Rob said he’d left a new toothbrush out in the bathroom for me so I stuck my head out of the door and peered round. It had actually turned into a really lovely evening, just sitting and relaxing together. But I wasn’t quite ready to face up to him in my – or rather his – pyjamas just yet. I looked around. I could hear movement in his bedroom so I took the opportunity to scoot along to the bathroom and get my own ablutions taken care of before he was ready to. I went in, locked the door and picked up the toothbrush. As I peeled the packaging away, I thought back to what he’d said about buying in bulk, and wondered just how much of that was true. And then I wondered why it bothered me if it was.

I finished cleaning my teeth and, upturning one of the glasses on the counter, popped my toothbrush in it. I stared at the glass for a moment, it being there was yet more evidence at the hint that this place definitely had a woman’s touch to it. I mean, who has two glasses in their bathroom – unless you own a hotel. Or – the other thought barrelled back at me – you’re just used to having people stay over. A lot. We were back to the bulk buying of toothbrushes. And I was too tired to think about it all. Or think about why I was even thinking about it all. I unlocked the door and cracked it open a smidge, checking to see if I could make it back to the guest room undetected. All clear. I did a half walk, half run thing and made it to the door. Except the momentum from the ‘run’ part of the manoeuvre kept me going, and my cosy socks offered no purchase on the wood floor. And I kept right on going straight into the door. I grabbed at the handle in an attempt to stop the inevitable but it happened anyway and I landed hard on my backside in the hallway.

‘Izzy?’

Rob’s door flew open and he stood there in the matching bottoms to my enormous top. After a split second of just staring at me, he rushed over but I was already batting him away, embarrassed.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine.’ I said, trying to decide the best way to make an elegant recovery from the prone position I was now in. I decided there wasn’t one. I sat up and winced. Rob caught it. He bent down, hooked his arms underneath mine and stood me up.

‘Thanks.’

‘Are you all right?’ he asked again.

I did my best to erase the mortifying picture I had in my head of me sliding down the corridor that must have greeted Rob as he pulled open his door, and instead put on a big smile.

‘Absolutely.’ Not true. My backside was killing me. ‘Socks. Floor. Slippy.’ I explained. ‘But I’m fine. Really. Just a bit of a sore bum.’

A smirk fluttered across his mouth, albeit briefly.

‘And don’t think I didn’t see that.’

‘Sorry.’ he said, ‘I’d offer to rub it better for you, but that’d be such a cliché.’

‘It would.’

‘So I won’t.’

‘I’m so glad.’

He grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but return it. He took a couple of steps back towards his own room.

‘Sure you’re ok?’

‘I’m sure, Rob. Really.’

‘All right, but just let me know if anything hurts later, or tomorrow. As I said earlier, my mate’s only round the corner.’

‘If I’m not going to let you rub anything better, then what makes you think I’m going to let anyone else have a go?’

Rob looked happily puzzled. ‘My mate’s a doctor.’

‘Ohhhhh! Yes. Right. You did say that.’

Rob took a couple of steps back towards me again and leant over and opened the door. As it had apparently become clear I wasn’t to be trusted with these things myself.

‘Night, Izz.’

‘Night, Rob.’

He bent down and kissed me on the cheek.

‘Sleep well.’ he said before turning and heading towards the bathroom. I watched him go. It was kind of hard not to. He looked pretty gorgeous in a suit. In pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt he looked… I stopped myself. What on Earth was I doing? This was Rob. We were friends. And he’d even said earlier he wasn’t looking for anything from me, other than friendship. And I wasn’t looking for anything other than that right now either. If I was, I’d have jumped on the hot Italian from earlier. But I didn’t. Because I wasn’t ready for anything like that in my life right now. But I still couldn’t help watching Rob walk away. My eyes slid to his feet. No socks. Ha! I knew it. Sabotage.


Chapter Six (#ulink_b522381a-a91e-5972-867d-dc0177a55717)

I was sat on the floor of Rob’s living room the next morning, my papers spread all around me, when he wandered in, still dressed in his pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. His face had a sleepy look to it and his jaw showed a distinct hint of scruff.

‘Morning.’

‘Morning!’ I replied, my eyes going back to my work.

‘How’s your bum?’

‘Absolutely fine, thank you. Yours?’

He laughed and shoved a coffee pot sachet in his machine and pressed a button. Leaving it to run, he came over and crouched down to where I was sat with his lovely warm blanket around me. He pulled it back and peered around it, and the acres of pyjama top, to where I was sat on a large and, more importantly, soft cushion. He brought his gaze up to where I was purposefully avoiding meeting it.

‘Ok. So I bruised it a bit.’

He let the blanket fall back and stood up.

‘Did you get yourself coffee?’

‘No, I thought I’d wait for you.’ I glanced up.

He smiled at me and a few minutes later placed two cups of coffee and a pile of toast on the breakfast bar. I climbed up from my perch atop the cushion and padded over to one of the seats facing the window. Rob took the one next to me. I picked up one of the coffees. Wrapping my hands around it, I looked out at the snow.

‘Doesn’t look like it’s stopped all night.’

He shook his head. ‘Nope.’ he said, simply, snagging a piece of toast and leaning back in his chair to reach for a knife for the marmalade out of the drawer. I watched him for a moment and pictured the scene ending badly. Hopping up, I walked over the few steps to the cutlery drawer, pulled it out, took a knife and handed it to Rob.

‘Oh thanks.’ he said, oblivious to the scenario I’d run in my head.

I returned to my chair and hoisted myself back up onto it. It occurred to me that this was the perfect situation in which to find myself feeling self-conscious. I was sat in someone else’s kitchen, wearing someone else’s pyjamas and little else. But I didn’t. And it wasn’t just the fact that Rob’s top was about three times bigger than some of my dresses. It just felt comfortable with him. Talking. Not talking. Getting up to get cutlery for him so that we didn’t end up with matching bruised bums.

‘What are you working on?’ he asked, nodding his head to the side at the pile of stuff I’d left on the floor.

‘I have a bride who’s getting married in a castle, over in Ireland, and she wants a dress that reflects the history, but doesn’t look like a costume.’

Rob took another bite of toast and swallowed. ‘Can you do that?’

I nodded. ‘Of course.’

We sat for a few more moments.

‘Rob, I think I need to try and get over to Mags’ place today. It’s obvious I’m still not going to get home but I can’t stay here again–’

‘Why not?’ He wasn’t tetchy. He was just asking.

‘Well, because I’m sure you’ve got plenty of things to do and I just…’ have no idea what I’m trying to say.

‘Look out there, Izz. I don’t think anyone’s going to be doing much of anything today apart from staying in and keeping warm. Which is a plan that sounds pretty damn good to me. I know you’d probably prefer to be at Mags’ place right now, and if that’s what you really want, I’ll do my best to help you get there – but I can pretty much guarantee that those shoes you love so much will be completely ruined by the time you do.’

Oh yes. Right. Snow plus gorgeous new shoes which were certainly not made for navigating snowy pavements. Yep, he had a point. That was a bit of an issue.

‘This “Castle Bride”, is that something you have to get done this weekend?’

I nodded. ‘Well, yes, ideally. I said I’d send her something over, just some basic ideas to start with, by the end of tomorrow.’

‘Ok. Well, I’ve got some papers to look at too so if you’re happy that you have everything you need to get on with things here, then why don’t we just get our work done and reassess the situation later?’

‘Ok.’ I nodded.

‘Great! Oh, your dress should be dry. I put it in the machine last night.’

‘Oh, thanks!’ I hopped up from my seat and moved over to dishwasher where I began loading the breakfast plates in.

‘I’m just going to take a shower. Unless you want to go first?’ Rob hesitated at the doorway.

‘No, it’s fine,’ I said, now reaching in to the dryer to pull out my clothes, ‘I’ll just– oh no!’

‘What’s wrong?’ He frowned, padding back in slowly.

I pulled my dress out of the dryer and laid it over the back of the seat. Rob glanced at it.

‘Am I missing something because it looks – oh!’

I was holding up my beautiful designer cashmere cardigan. The colour of cornflowers in summer, I’d spent ages deciding whether to buy it, and had finally splashed out in celebration when my very first bride walked down the aisle. As soft and gorgeous as I’d imagined, and adding style and elegance to my outfit, it had been perfect. And it was still perfect. Assuming you were the size of a three-year-old.

I still hadn’t said anything and Rob still hadn’t moved any closer.

‘I’m guessing that label must say “Do Not Tumble”.’ he eventually volunteered.

A nod and a strangulated noise came from me as I laid my gorgeous, now tiny, cardi on the counter. There really was no rectifying this. It was gone.

‘I’m so sorry, Izzy. I’ll get you another one.’

I shook my head and finally looked at him. ‘It’s all right. Really. It’s just a jumper.’ Which was true. It was just a jumper. Just some wool all knitted up. That’s all. And I knew that Rob would want to replace it, whatever I said. It’s just that this one had such special memories attached to it – that first dress, all the way from design to completion. And the bride had been so insistent on having me there on the day because she was so happy with her dress and wanted to share that joy with me. And now I wouldn’t wear it again. I felt stupid at being upset over a bunch of wool, but there we are.

‘It’s not just a jumper though, is it?’ Rob asked.

I looked back up and shoved all the silliness aside. ‘Of course it is. Don’t worry about it! Thank you for drying the rest of my clothes, anyway,’ I hurried over in my head the fact that my underwear was also in there, and Rob would have had a good eyeful of that.

He held my gaze a moment then turned and headed back towards the bedrooms. ‘You can grab a shower first if you’d like. I’m going for a run.’

‘What, now?’ I called to him.

‘Yes,’ came the reply from behind the now closed bedroom door.

‘But it’s feet deep in snow! You’ll break your bloody neck!’

There was no reply. A few minutes later, Rob appeared wearing running leggings, thankfully with shorts over them. Lovely as any man in good shape looks, running leggings are not a good look. He was zipping up a breathable jacket and a hat was pulled down over his ears. He finished lacing his shoes then pulled on his gloves. All the time I was stood just watching. I knew this was something to do with me, and I didn’t like it.

‘Rob, this is ridiculous.’

‘What is?’

‘You, doing this.’

‘Izz, I go running most weekends.’

‘Yes, but five minutes ago, you weren’t going. Then we go have Cardi-Gate and the next minute you’re heading out in several feet of snow for a run.’

‘It’s nothing to do with that, Izzy. Really. Yes, I feel bad that I ruined your top. But as you said, it’s just a jumper, so I’ll replace it, and we’ll be all square. This? This is just about me feeling like going for a run.’

I didn’t believe it for a moment. And he knew I didn’t. We both knew that the jumper wasn’t just a jumper either and it was all raging out of control, and yet neither of us were prepared to say anything, just pretending everything was all absolutely fine. When clearly it wasn’t. I was upset and pretending I wasn’t. He was upset that I was upset but pretending that he didn’t know I was upset, so that we could both go on with this ridiculous charade. This was exactly why I should have gone to a hotel last night. Complications like this don’t happen at hotels. Yes, they might still have shrunk my cardigan but I could have happily yelled at them and asked them why they didn’t read the labels. Rob, on the other hand, I couldn’t even begin to be angry with because he’d just been trying to be helpful and had done so much to make the evening relaxed and pleasant. Oh God! Why hadn’t I just stood my ground and gone to a hotel!

Rob’s movements brought me back out of my trance. ‘Rob, really. This is just silly. Look at it out there!’ I pointed to the window where the snow was coming down again. ‘You’ll freeze!’

‘Thermals,’ was all he said.

I didn’t have a reply for that one.

‘Rob, please. Come on, it’s horrid out there.’

‘Izzy, stop worrying. I’ve been out in far worse conditions than this on manoeuvres in the past.’ He turned to fish his keys out of the bowl on the side.

‘Yes, but that was only because there was someone telling you you had to go! Probably someone quite short and shouty!’

Rob looked at me meaningfully but said nothing.

I threw my head back. ‘Argh! You’re impossible!’

‘Not the first time that’s been said.’ he replied, pulling open the door.

‘Apparently, you haven’t improved.’

‘Doesn’t look like it.’ he agreed, ‘See you in a bit.’ With that, he closed the door behind him and left me in the silence of the flat.

I felt a little better after a shower and hair wash but not a lot. Rob still wasn’t back and my mind kept racing off into scenarios where he was spread eagled on the pavement with his limbs pointing in positions that they really shouldn’t. I needed to focus my mind. I stepped into my dress and pulled on the socks that Rob had lent me last night instead of the lace topped stockings I’d had on in the day. Which also would have been in the washing machine. Oh flip. Oh well. He’d seen it all now. I was mostly warm but without my cardi, my arms were definitely on the chilly side. Wandering out into the main area, I noticed some laundry folded next to the dryer. Nosing through it, I found a Help For Heroes sweatshirt. Unfolding it, I pulled it over my head and waited for it to settle under my bum. Heading over to where I’d spread out my work this morning, I sat down gently on my cushion and began looking at the drawings.

An hour later I was just putting the last finishing strokes of colour to a design when I heard a key turn in the lock. I pushed myself up from where I had sprawled and watched as Rob walked through the door. His nose was shining as red and bright as the festive lights at Covent Garden Apple Market and he was rubbing his hands together in an effort to boost circulation.

‘Good run?’ I asked.

‘Yep.’ he replied, bending down to undo his laces.

‘How many times did you fall?’

‘Just the once.’

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yep.’

I shook my head and got up, padding across to where he was still bent over fighting with his laces. I watched for a second before bending down to the same level. I could see his frozen hands were struggling with the soaking laces.

‘Here.’ I pushed his hands out of the way.

‘No, it’s fine. Really, I can–’ He attempted to move my hands.

I didn’t reply. Just pushed his own back out of the way again and slid down on the floor so that my feet were either side of my hips. He’d made a right mess of the ties and I peered at them, before focussing in on the right end to start with.

Rob leant back and sat his bum on the floor, finally accepting he wasn’t going to win this one.

‘How do you even sit like that?’ he asked after a moment, a hint of amusement in his voice.

‘It’s comfy.’ I replied, concentration creasing my face, ‘I’m really quite bendy.’

‘Good to know.’ He laughed, softly.

I pulled a lace and it came free! ‘Ta dah!’

Rob pulled the other one, and I could see his hands were turning a bit more of a normal colour.

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome.’

He quickly pushed himself up from the floor and held down a hand for me to grab on to. I did so and was propelled upward into a standing position far quicker than I expected.

‘Ooh!’ I wobbled, ‘Headrush.’

‘Sorry,’ Rob was apologetic as he steadied me, ‘I’m used to heaving blokes up off the rugby field. You’re a bit lighter.’

I acknowledged the likelihood of that.

‘I’m going to take a shower. I picked up some lunch on the way back.’

‘Ok. Yes, go and warm up, for goodness’ sake. I’ll make us some drinks.’

I was just dishing up the soup and warm bread Rob had brought back with him when he walked back into the kitchen. He was dressed in a pair of well-worn cargo trousers with a loose t-shirt over the top. Rummaging in the same laundry pile I’d gone through earlier, he pulled out a hoody and slipped it on. He took the dishes, put them in place on the breakfast bar, and turned to take the plate of bread.

‘I like this look.’ he said, smiling at the, admittedly eclectic, style I’d ended up with today.





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