Ten
‘I think I might’ve blown it,’ I told Madi after I’d drunk all the hot chocolate, and eaten four of the cinnamon biscuits, having thrown the half-eaten one in the bin.
‘What are we talking about?’ Madi asked, giggling like a schoolgirl. ‘I need to get some context.’
‘Marcus and Adele, and my matchmaking skills. Or to be precise, failed matchmaking skills.’
‘Ah right. Is this going to be a long call?’
‘Am I boring you already?’
‘You could never bore me. I just wanted to ascertain if I should get myself a drink or not.’
‘That depends on your response to what I tell you.’
‘Hold on. Tristan! If you’re in the kitchen, would you be a darling and make me a cup of tea, please?’
‘Of course, sweetheart,’ Tristan yelled back, although I could only just hear him on my end of the call. ‘Say hello to Noelle.’
‘How did he know it was me?’
‘No one else calls me,’ she laughed.
I knew that wasn’t true, and I laughed too. ‘I do keep calling rather a lot recently, don’t I?’
‘I love our chats. Call me as often as you like.’
‘Thanks for being such a wonderful friend.’
‘Thank you for being such a wonderful friend too. Now let’s move on. What’s happened?’
I told her about biscuitgate, as I was going to think of it. All failed plans had to have a name.
‘I see. That was a cunning plan, but I know where you went wrong. His wife lied. His best friend lied. He probably still believes Adele lied in some way. And now you’ve lied too, as far as he’s concerned. I would say he’s had enough of liars, wouldn’t you?’
‘I suppose so. I didn’t think of that.’
‘What I think you should’ve done was to have said that Adele gave them to you, and that although they’re delicious, you’re watching your weight because you’re going on a date with the man of your dreams, and that he … Marcus, I mean, not your dream man, would be doing you a favour if he took the biscuits, because you’re not the sort of person who would throw away such yummy food, or who would ever want to upset someone, or hurt their feelings.’
‘Where were you when I needed you? I should’ve called you first. But he came home unexpectedly and I acted on the spur of the moment.’
‘Which is probably what Cara said two years ago,’ Madi quipped. ‘Sorry. Poor taste.’
‘But probably true. How can I make this better?’
‘Well … he doesn’t know that you know about his past, does he? You could go round right now and bang on the door and demand an explanation. But in a friendly way. Say you don’t understand his reaction or his comments and that if you have upset him in some way, you’re very sorry. Because you’re not the sort of person … etc., etc., and give him a Christmas decoration as well. One of those snowmen ones that are holding out their hearts. Everyone goes all gooey over those.’
‘You’re a genius. But wait. Isn’t that lying? What if he then finds out I did know about his past?’
‘Worry about that when the time comes. You could tell him you found out the same day from Adele.’
‘So still lie, you mean?’
‘It’s a white lie, not a bad lie. And it’s only a lie if someone finds out it’s not the truth.’
‘Should I be worried?’ Tristan asked, laughing in the background.
‘I would never lie to you, darling,’ Madi said, and I could hear lips meeting lips in a kiss. ‘Thanks for the tea.’
‘Thanks for the kiss,’ said Tristan. ‘Catch you later, Noelle.’
‘Bye, Tristan.’
‘I love that man to bits,’ said Madi, swooning loudly.
‘And he loves you to bits too. Right. I’m going round to see Marcus. Wish me luck.’
‘Good luck. Call me after.’
‘Bye After,’ I joked.
Madi groaned in an amused fashion and rang off.
I slid the remaining biscuits into one of the transparent plastic bags I used for my Christmas decorations, found one of the snowmen Madi had suggested, and, after putting on my coat and boots, I headed to End Cottage and rang the doorbell.
‘Oh. It’s you.’ Marcus didn’t seem pleased to see me.
‘I come bearing gifts. And an apology. Although I think you owe me an apology too. I just offered you some biscuits and they weren’t poisoned or anything so I don’t understand your comments or your reaction. Adele made the biscuits and they’re absolutely delicious, but the thing is, I need to watch my weight because I’m going on a date and I’m not the sort of person who would throw away such yummy food, or who would ever want to upset someone, or hurt their feelings. So I offered them to you. That’s it. I’ve tried my hardest to be your friend. Your friend and nothing more. I don’t fancy you or anything, so don’t worry about that, but I would like to know why you feel it’s okay to be rude and unpleasant and frankly, unkind.’
He raised his brows and his mouth dropped open.
‘Oh, and I also brought you this,’ I added, holding out the snowman decoration. ‘I did make this one. I have my own small business making Christmas decorations. I think I told you that. Anyway. I don’t know if you have a tree. I don’t have mine yet. But this goes on a tree. Or a door handle. Or anywhere, really. Or you can give it to someone else if it’s not your thing.’
We stared at one another for what felt like for ever, and then to my astonishment, he laughed. It was just a quick burst, but again that lovely light popped into his eyes.
He took a deep breath and smiled. ‘I’ve just made some tea. Would you like a cup?’
‘Oh yes please! My boiler’s playing up, and so is my tap in the kitchen, so I’m all over the place right now. Sorry. Tea would be lovely.’
He stepped aside to let me in and I gasped as I walked along the hall. Again, End Cottage was, or would’ve once been, a similar layout to mine, and to Adele’s, but they couldn’t be more different style-wise, if they tried.
Apart from the hall, the downstairs of End Cottage was all open plan, sleek lines, expensive furniture and furnishings, artwork on the walls, a designer kitchen I would’ve died for, and glass, sliding doors the width of the back wall. There was also a TV the size of a spaceship on one wall, with surround sound speakers as stylish as the rest of the furniture.
‘Crikey. This is posh.’
‘Erm. Thanks. I think.’
I laughed at his uncertainty. ‘That was a compliment. It’s gorgeous. But I’m surprised by the sliding doors. Sorry. That’s not a criticism. I meant no offence.’
‘None taken. We … I was going to have bifolds, but our … my architect suggested sliding doors instead.’ He gave a small cough and took a breath as though he was resetting himself. ‘Apparently bifolding doors let out more heat and aren’t as good as everyone seems to believe. That was his opinion, but he was a friend. A friend I trust. So I went with his suggestion. One of the many things that infuriated my ex-wife. Before she was my ex. Please take a seat.’
He pointed at a sumptuous looking chair and I sank into the comfy cushions while he poured me a cup of tea from an expensive looking porcelain teapot.
‘Have you lived here long?’ I asked before realising that I hadn’t aired my surprise that he had been married. Oh well. That ship had sailed.
‘Yes. Possibly too long. But I love this cottage and I always have. At least, for most of the time I’ve lived here. Milk?’ A matching milk jug hovered in his hand over the cup.’
‘Yes please. No sugar. I’m sweet enough.’
He raised his brows. ‘That speech wasn’t terribly sweet. And I’m not convinced all of it was true. But the snowman is delightful. I believe you mean well and you’re a genuine person. I apologise for my bad manners but you hit a nerve, I’m afraid. Just tell me the truth. How much do you know about my past?’
I could’ve lied. But as he handed me the porcelain cup and saucer, I decided complete honesty was the way to go.
‘Thanks for the tea. I love this porcelain tea set.’
He sat in the chair opposite me and gave me a strange look.
‘A wedding gift from my parents. One I decided not to smash to smithereens when I discovered my wife was shagging my best friend.’
I choked on the sip I’d taken and had to cough to clear my throat.
‘Too honest for you?’ he asked with the hint of a sardonic smile.
I shook my head. ‘Brutal honesty is sometimes best. So I’ll be honest with you. I had absolutely no idea about anything in your past. I didn’t even know you were once a solicitor until today. And the only reason I found out any of it was because Adele was upset when I arrived back here this morning and she invited me in for coffee. She’s been unwell and she’s clearly run down, although she said she feels better today. But I think she’s been holding it all in for so long that once we started talking, it all came pouring out.’
His expression changed to one I couldn’t quite fathom.
‘Today? You only heard about it all today?’
‘Yes. Well let’s be honest again. Neither you or Adele have been brimming over with friendship and welcome, have you? And neither of you have been keen to chat, or to open up about yourselves. Now I think I understand why. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.’
He snorted another sardonic laugh. ‘I bet my name was mud. Adele hates me. But I suppose I can’t blame her.’
‘Actually, she didn’t say anything bad about you, really. But she was upset that you didn’t believe her. It’s none of my business, I know, but you two seem to have so much in common and it’s so sad that you were once good friends but now you don’t speak to one another.’
His face hardened and his jaw tightened and I wondered if he might throw me out, but then that light came back into his eyes and his smile was wistful, as was the small sigh that escaped him.
‘We were good friends once. Really close friends. I almost asked her out. But Jeff said he thought it might ruin our friendship, so I didn’t. And then I met Cara.’ His fingers turned white as he gripped the handle of his cup so tightly, I thought it might break. ‘Too much information. Sorry. But I shouldn’t have listened to Jeff, should I? Things might be so different now if I’d followed my … but it’s too late for that. Would you like to hear my side of this sordid little tale? Or did Adele tell you everything you want to know?’
‘I’d like to hear your side too, if you want to tell me. But that’s entirely up to you. It won’t change anything as far as I’m concerned. I want to be friends with both you and Adele, if that’s possible. And what’s in the past is in the past as far as I’m concerned. Unless it affects the present and the future. But I feel I must say one thing. Two things actually. I do genuinely believe that Adele only had your interests and your happiness at heart when she told you about your wife and your best friend. Those aren’t her words, they’re mine. She said she had feelings for you and admitted she was jealous of Cara, but I think it was Cara who was the bitch, not Adele. And the second thing is, it’s never too late to do anything. Whether that’s to follow your heart, or to follow your dreams, or to fly to the moon and back. Okay that last one might not be so easy. But if there is breath in your body and hope in your heart, then it’s not too late.’
He eyed me over his cup and remained silent for several seconds.
‘Thank you for that. I will tell you my side of it all one day. But not today, I think. I know I should probably be over it by now, but the cold hard truth is, I’m not. My ex-wife is marrying my former best friend this Christmas and to say I’m a little upset is possibly an understatement.’
‘These things take as long as they take. Is that why you don’t like Christmas?’
‘Who said I don’t like Christmas? Surely not Adele?’
‘No! But … well, you didn’t put any decorations up last year, and you didn’t thank me for my card, or send me one, so I sort of assumed.’
He nodded. ‘I see. Yes. I apologise for not doing that. The card thing, I mean. That was rude. I loved Christmas. So did Adele. Jeff and my ex could take it or leave it. But Jeff took my wife instead. Two years ago at Christmas. She moved into your cottage with him on Christmas Eve, so that Christmas was fun, as you can imagine. I did have decorations up that year, but I tore them all down on New Year’s Eve. Last Christmas, she sent me divorce papers, so that was another fun Christmas. I didn’t bother to buy new decorations, as you noticed. And this year, when I thought things might start to get better, I heard she and Jeff are getting married on Christmas Eve. Who, in their right mind, gets married on Christmas Eve? So, I think we’ve established that’s it’s highly unlikely that End Cottage will be decked in boughs of holly and twinkling lights this year either. Hmm. I think I might need something stronger than tea. Several somethings in fact. Luckily I have the afternoon off. Want to join me?’
I could hear Mum’s voice saying, ‘Drinking alcohol at lunchtime? And on a Monday? Surely not?’
‘Absolutely,’ I said. ‘I haven’t been drunk since Saturday night. Oh wait. I also had a few too many yesterday afternoon. Although I wasn’t drunk. But I’ll only have one.’
Where had I heard that before?
He raised a brow and reminded me a little of my dad.
‘Do you have a drink problem?’
‘No. It’s no problem at all. It slides down rather nicely. Sorry. I shouldn’t joke about that. I have been drinking a little more than usual over the last few months, but I don’t think I have a problem.’
‘Isn’t that what people with a problem would say?’
‘Yep. Probably. But seriously, I don’t. And I will just have one drink with you. A glass of wine if you have some, please.’
‘One glass of wine coming up.’ He opened the biggest wine fridge I’d ever seen outside of a restaurant. ‘Any preference?’
‘Cold, white, and wet.’
He grinned. ‘A true connoisseur.’
‘You’d better believe it.’
He poured a large glass and handed it to me. ‘Only one,’ he said. ‘I’ll drink the rest.’
‘Only one,’ I replied and took a large mouthful. ‘Oh my god! That’s like the nectar of the gods.’
‘It’s not a bad year.’ He sat opposite me again and leant forward in his chair. ‘That was the year I got married. As you can tell, I like to wallow in self-pity and literally, drown my sorrows. Or maybe drown in my sorrows. Cheers,’ he said, clinking my glass with his.
‘Cheers,’ I replied, sipping my wine and savouring the deliciousness of it, as he knocked his back in three large gulps and then refilled his glass.
‘Was that bit about you going on a date, true?’ He grinned at me over the rim of his glass. ‘Asking for a friend. The bit about you needing to watch your weight clearly isn’t.’
I shifted uncomfortably. ‘I do need to watch my weight. I’ve been stuffing my face with Adele’s biscuits. Now those I could get addicted to.’
‘There’re certainly delicious, I agree. I knew as soon as I took that first bite that they were her biscuits. No one makes cinnamon biscuits – or any biscuits, like Adele. And the date?’
‘The date? Oh, the date! Erm. Not entirely. There is a guy I really like and I think he likes me too. But he’s just split up from his girlfriend. Literally, on Saturday night, and he’s also the older brother of a good friend of mine, so I don’t know if it’s going to be a bit weird, or even if he’ll ask me out.’
‘He’ll ask you out. Unless my friend does first.’
I gave a little gasp. ‘Erm. Please don’t take this the wrong way. And please don’t take it personally, but as lovely as you are, and as much as I want to be your friend, I … I don’t think we would work. You’re not my type and I’m not yours. Not that I know what your type is. But I’m sure it’s not me. Is that okay? Are we good?’
He was trying to hide his laughter. I could see it in his face. Was the man teasing me? The more I said, the more he struggled to hide it, until he finally let rip and roared with laughter.
‘I apologise,’ he said when I glared at him. ‘Seriously I do. But oh, Noelle, you’re the best. You really are. You’ve cheered me up no end. As for you being my type, well, I think you could be, because you’re beautiful. You’re funny. You’re witty and intelligent. You have your own business and you own your own home. I love all those things about you. But I was genuinely asking for a friend. Do you like kids?’
I raised my brows in mock horror, delighted that he’d said such lovely things about me but equally delighted that he wasn’t asking me out.
‘I’ve never dated anyone more than a few years younger than me, so if that’s what you’re suggesting, it’s a hard no from me.’
He roared again and his body shook with laughter. ‘No. My friend is thirty-nine but he has a daughter who is eight. He’s a widower. He has his own business and he’s in high demand, so he doesn’t get a chance to go out and meet women, what with working long hours and then wanting to spend all his free time with his daughter.’
‘Oh I see. You’re serious?’
‘I’m serious. I’m not his pimp or anything, and he’d kill me if he knew I was telling you this. But you and he would be perfect for one another. If I could find a way to arrange a casual meeting, would you be interested? Or has this other man already stolen your heart? Because my friend wouldn’t date a woman who was also seeing someone else.’
‘Erm. I’m not sure. Can I think about it? Paul is – that’s the man I like – gorgeous and I know him fairly well. I’m not sure I’d be up for a blind date. Do you have a photo of him?’
‘Yes. I carry one close to my heart at all times.’ He threw me a playful look. ‘No. I don’t think I do. We’re not the sort of guys who pose for photos. And he’s not on social media. As you can see, there are no photos on my walls. Not even of my parents. Although there is a room upstairs that has several photos of my ex and I throw darts at them every night before I go to bed.’ He emptied his glass again and refilled it. ‘Can I tempt you?’
‘With another glass? Or to throw darts at the photos of your ex? Because that sounds like fun. But I think I’ll say no to both. Thanks.’
He grinned. ‘Are looks important to you?’
‘Not that important, no. But I like to see a man’s eyes. You can tell a lot about a person from their eyes.’
‘I agree. And in case there is any doubt in your mind, I don’t have a room filled with photos of my ex, and I don’t throw darts at them because they don’t exist. I will admit I did burn them all though. The night she moved into your cottage.’
‘I know you said you’re not completely over her yet, but I think you’re in better shape than you believe you are.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘And having said that, I think it might be weird going on a date with a friend of yours. Thanks for the offer, but if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll say no. This has been fun. But I really must get back because I’m supposed to be making Christmas decorations for my business. Plus, I need to phone my plumber to see if he can come any sooner than tomorrow. I’ve got problems with my boiler, and the tap in my kitchen thinks it’s a shower. Don’t ask.’ I got to my feet and he did so too. ‘Anyway, the wine was heavenly and I’d love to know what it is.’ I handed him the glass and he took it. ‘Oh, and before I go, would you mind if I gave you a piece of advice?’
He turned and walked away, but he glanced over his shoulder and said, ‘Please do,’ as he put the glass on the counter and then walked towards the wine fridge once again, returning moments later with two bottles of chilled white wine. ‘For you. And possibly to drink with your date.’
‘Are you sure?’
He nodded and smiled.
‘Thank you.’ I glanced down at the labels and gave a little gasp. ‘I … I can’t accept these. I may not be a connoisseur but I know that this is bloody expensive wine. Eye-wateringly expensive, in fact.’
Even my Mum had heard of Montrachet. A white burgundy considered to be one of the best white wines in the world. And these were aged Premier Cru wines. I had once been in a restaurant when someone had ordered an aged bottle of a Montrachet Premier Cru, and a friend who worked there told me prices ranged from the hundreds to the thousands depending on the year.
‘No. Not eye-wateringly so, and not really bloody, either. Not for what they are. But I’ll agree they’re not cheap. Isn’t that what money is for though? To spend it on nice things and to make ourselves happy. And you did give me a wonderful gift, so please accept the wine in the spirit in which it’s offered. One of friendship.’
‘I gave you biscuits made by someone else and a snowman to hang on a Christmas tree that you don’t even have, and probably won’t be getting. It’s hardly the same, is it?’
‘Gifts shouldn’t be about how much they cost. It’s about the sentiment, not the price. And besides, those weren’t the only gifts you’ve given me. You might not realise this but you’ve made me laugh more today than I have done for some time. Plus, you’ve made me see the light on a matter that has only been dark until now. Sometimes it takes someone new to come into your life to make you see what a prat you’ve been. Thank you for making me see I’m a prat.’
‘Oh, you’re very welcome. And now for that advice. Adele is not your enemy. But you were in the wrong when you accused her of lying and I think you should apologise for that. I don’t know if you can be friends again but I hope that you can. You said yourself you were close. A true friend, like true love, is hard to come by and it’s worth making an effort to keep that friendship, or to reignite it. Apologise for what you said and did. I’m pretty sure she’ll apologise to you for causing you the hurt that she did, but she was being honest. Right that’s it. Do I still get to keep both bottles of this exorbitantly expensive, posh white wine? Or do you want them back?’
He had been staring at me as I spoke but now he smiled and to my surprise he leant forward and kissed me on the cheek.
‘You get to keep them both. And you might find you get some more between now and Christmas. ’Tis the season, after all.’ He winked at me. ‘Now get out of here and let me get drunk. I’m going to stalk my ex on social media for the very last time and then I’m going to man up and get over her, once and for all. I’m sure I must have some darts somewhere.’