Chapter 5
FREYA
Six evenings after the TV interview, I’m on my way into London’s Savoy hotel, to meet Jake and Sonja in the bar here.
I wasn’t that keen to come – I really didn’t want to see Jake again and I really don’t want to join in with whatever challenge Sonja’s talking about – but she promised me the autograph for Maud if I did come.
So here I am. Once I have the autograph, I will politely decline the challenge and leave.
I think Jake was quite obstructive when it came to finding a date for this meeting; it’s nine o’clock on a Tuesday evening, a time when I would definitely rather be watching a box set or meeting a friend locally. But here we are.
They’ve both already arrived before me, I see when I enter the bar. Jake’s looking drop-dead, suck-your-breath-in-on-sight-of-him gorgeous in dark jeans and a navy crew-neck jumper, and Sonja’s a vision in a fluffy long lilac dress, which she pulls off amazingly.
Sonja hugs me at arm’s length (I’m guessing she doesn’t want to crease the dress) and aims dramatic air kisses in my direction.
Jake nods, says, ‘Hello,’ and does not get up from his stool to greet me.
‘Bubbles to celebrate the beginning of the challenge,’ Sonja says. ‘Champagne.’ She peers at the wine list. ‘God, that’s expensive. TV production budgets aren’t what they were. We’ll have the house prosecco.’
Soon we’re all sipping prosecco. I do love prosecco. Jake, however, looks as though he’s wishing his was a beer.
‘I hope you both had lovely weekends,’ Sonja says, before carrying straight on with: ‘So. The challenge. Exciting!’
I decide that I need to get the autograph before I decline to join in with whatever the challenge might be, and open my bag to take out Maud’s autograph book.
‘Later.’ Sonja waves her hand dismissively in the direction of the book. ‘Now. Credit where credit is due. It was Mandy, our producer, who came up with the fantastic idea of the challenge. Just so that you know that everyone on the show is behind it.’
Oh-kay. I know that I will not want to do this challenge. I glance at Jake and see that he’s glancing at me too and looking very frowny.
‘So basically—’ Sonja takes a long slug of her prosecco ‘—the challenge is like a wager. You bet each other that you’ll win, prove the other wrong. You have three months. And, obviously, report back, come back on the show. We’re announcing it on the show tomorrow, exactly a week after you came on.’
‘What?’ Jake asks.
Sonja’s beaming. ‘You have to prove to Freya that there is romance for her. And she has to prove to you that…’ She looks at both of us and then continues, ‘Well, not to be too harsh, but that romance is just a fairy tale.’
Jake shakes his head, like he’s stunned. ‘Why would we do that?’
He’s right (for once). Why would we do that? I did not enjoy going on TV last week. It’s one thing doing a nice quick chat about one of my books; it’s entirely another talking about my views on things, and myself. I do not want to be interviewed on air by Sonja again.
Although… my editor and agent have both told me that appearing on the show was a good thing. It caused a big spike in sales, which currently isn’t showing any sign of tailing off. I can hear both their voices in my ear now: No publicity is bad publicity.
Hmmm.
‘I’ll give you the autograph after you’ve agreed,’ Sonja tells me.
I gasp.
‘Yes.’ She nods, very seriously, like she’s making an acceptable point. ‘That’s how much we believe in this.’
As in, she believes in it so much she’ll stoop to blackmail? Lovely.
‘Ridiculous,’ says Jake, very decisively.
As though he has the right to reply on my behalf as well as his own, speak for me as well as himself. Arrogant. Annoying. Irritating.
‘Are you worried about losing?’ I hear myself asking, widening my eyes in fake innocence as I speak. If nothing else, I would love to prove Jake wrong.
‘Certainly not,’ he says.
There’s a long pause, into which Sonja, to my confusion, says, ‘Laura Darke.’
There’s another long pause, and then Jake – looking as though he’s just agreed to have teeth extracted without an anaesthetic – says, ‘Fine. I’m in. Under duress.’
‘Great. It’ll be fun!’ Sonja’s beaming and it wouldn’t surprise me if she clapped her hands in glee any minute now. ‘How exciting! We’ve thought of prizes too for the winner.’
I nod, a little miserably, because, even though I know my agent would advise me to do it, I strongly doubt that I’m going to enjoy whatever’s in store for us. ‘Yay, yes. Exciting!’
Jake shoots me an if-looks-could-kill glare, which immediately cheers me up.
‘So. We have a legal contract.’ Sonja’s voice is suddenly steely.
Jake lifts a lawyerly eyebrow and Sonja says, ‘We have witnesses.’ She points at the table nearest to the bar, and the two people there both wave at us.
Jake and I both gasp. ‘We all know what happens when things go viral. I wouldn’t like to think what would happen to your reputations if the nation thought you’d reneged.
Jake, I’ll let Laura know how much I like you.
Freya, I’ll sign that autograph in a minute. ’
‘Yeah, I might be too busy to join in.’ Jake’s lips have gone very straight and a muscle is twitching in his jaw area.
‘Mr Stone,’ I say, just because I can’t resist. ‘Are you scared?’
‘Of…?’ he asks, and I realise, because he did this during the interview too, that this is a thing he does. Encourages you to finish your own sentence and often land yourself in a quagmire.
‘Of losing,’ I say, not – I am pleased to say – in any kind of a quagmire. I’m beginning to feel like I don’t really mind if we do the challenge or not. The downside would be having to speak to Jake again. The upside would be more publicity. And beating him.
And I do know that I will win. I’ve lived through every romance trope under the sun and it just isn’t happening for me.
I used to be a hopeless romantic but now I know better.
It’s probably something about me, if I’m honest. My parents got divorced when I was twelve.
There was no amicable conscious uncoupling; it was full-on hatred (which persisted beyond my father’s funeral); and they both had several further disastrous relationships before ending up alone.
I feel like it’s a genetic thing, like I’m not capable of a happy romantic relationship.
I’m not lovable and I don’t fall in love with people properly either.
And I’m pretty sure that I can convince Jake that romance isn’t for him.
My mind’s already whirring with the possibilities of all the awful dates I can set him up on.
I can go through every single trope for him (can I actually organise an enemies-to-lovers snow-in for him?
Hmm) and then he’ll have to admit defeat.
It would be a lot of effort, though. Practically speaking, it would be a lot easier to walk away and never see this man again and say goodbye to the extra publicity.
‘I think you’re going to have to do it,’ says Sonja. ‘Because if you don’t, it might become known who pulled out, and why.’
‘I won’t pull out,’ I rush to say (pathetically, I know, but threats do scare me, and I’m worried that my pulling out would go down badly with my readers).
‘Outrageous,’ says Jake.
Sonja smiles at him.
He glares at both of us and then, after a very long pause, says, ‘Well, fun times. When do we start?’
‘We need some rules first.’ Sonja takes her phone out of her bag and consults it.
‘Here we go. To clarify: Freya, your task is to prove to Jake that he’s never going to find lasting love.
’ She ignores my audible choke at how mean that sounds.
‘And Jake, your task is to prove to Freya that she is going to find love. To further clarify: you do both have to join in, in good faith. We considered sending cameras with you on each date, but we don’t want this to look too much like reality TV, so you’re going to take selfie videos during the dates and send them over, and we’ll do ninety-second montages once or twice a week on the show to keep viewers up to date with how things are going.
We’ll send written instructions but basically we’ll need to see footage of the venue, footage of you and your date, if they consent, otherwise just you, and a debrief from you afterwards. ’
She finally pauses for breath, while we both stare at her, speechless, before continuing, ‘Now, prizes. Freya, if you win, Jake will spend a weekend on a learn-to-write-romance course. He will then come back on the show to read us his romantic short story. Jake, if you win, Freya will spend a weekend on a love-therapy-for-singles course. She will then come back on the show to tell us what she’s learnt.
If it’s a draw, you spend a weekend together on a team-building weekend to try to overcome the mutual antipathy the nation has seen you fall into.
There might be camera crews involved on the final weekend. ’
She smiles at us while we both continue to stare slightly open-mouthed at her, before continuing, ‘The production team and I have discussed and we think the best way is for you to spend one evening a week on this. You take it in turns to set the other up on a date or do whatever it takes to prove your point. And you do both have to be honest.’
She looks me hard in the eye, and I nod, feeling about six years old. Then she switches her gimlet gaze to Jake, who also nods.
‘Wonderful, then.’ Sonja slaps her card on top of the bar, signals to the bartender, downs the rest of her glass, refills it, waves her card over the paying machine, and downs her second glass, all in the space of about a minute and a half.
‘Excellent.’ She slides off her bar stool.
‘Enjoy your evening. I’ll be checking in with you regularly. ’
And off she goes. Leaving me to realise just after she’s disappeared out of the door in a lilac whirl that I still don’t have the autograph. Well, next time.
I can’t actually believe that two grown adults have just been manoeuvred into accepting a ridiculous challenge. It’s such a bizarre turn of events.
At least I know I’m going to win. There is no possibility that anyone can convince me there’s romance out there for me.