23. SEA BREEZES
TWENTY-THREE
SEA brEEZES
When Tess woke up on Friday morning the rain was lashing with fury against her bedroom window, and there was a definite chill in the air. She looked mournfully at the T-shirt and cotton trousers she’d planned to wear. Perhaps the weather would improve? It was, after all, only seven thirty, and everything could change within the next couple of hours. However, according to the cheerful weather forecaster on the TV, this weather was set for most of the day, the unseasonal Atlantic gales driving the rain horizontally into every nook and cranny. He looked amused, standing there in a nice warm studio, as well he might.
Perhaps Sanjeev would postpone the outing? Perhaps they could settle instead for a nice cosy pub and then a movie. Perhaps, perhaps. Tess found a warm sweater to wear over her T-shirt and swapped the cotton trousers for jeans. That blue, blue Aegean was but a memory.
She fed Dylan and made herself some porridge. Just over a week to go to the wedding! Surely summer would return by then, as she hadn’t planned to wear any kind of jacket or coat over the beautiful emerald dress. Then she fiddled with her hair, knowing full well it would be a wasted effort if she had to squash it all day under a hood. And she’d also planned to wear sandals, so that was another no-no. She’d have to wear the trainers. This was not the look she’d been planning.
Sanjeev hadn’t been to her house before, and she had no idea what he might be driving. When he arrived promptly at half past nine he was wearing a long waterproof over his jeans, with sturdy boots.
‘This is nice,’ he said, looking round Tess’s lounge. ‘Very homely.’
Good, she thought; perhaps he’ll want to come here often to unwind.
‘But what a day!’ he added.
‘Are we still planning on going to the seaside?’ Tess asked.
‘Of course!’ Sanjeev replied. ‘I need to get some good clean sea air into my London lungs!’
‘Oh yes, absolutely,’ Tess said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
‘I thought, perhaps Brighton?’
‘Fine.’ Tess thought of the Lanes, the shops and the great restaurants. ‘Would you like a coffee before we go?’
He glanced at his watch. ‘That’s kind of you, but would you mind if we get on our way? Perhaps we can stop for a coffee en route.’
Tess put on her hooded raincoat and followed him out to his smart car. Just as well she wasn’t planning any major shopping, as there wouldn’t be a great deal of space in Sanjeev’s small Mercedes.
‘It’s small,’ Sanjeev said as they strapped themselves in, ‘but ideal for London. Easy to park.’
Off they went, windscreen wipers at full speed, de-misters on, sloshing their way through the deep puddles that had already formed .
‘Perhaps we should have postponed this?’ Tess said, peering through the windscreen.
Sanjeev laughed. ‘But how can you rely on British weather? It could be worse tomorrow!’
‘Could it?’ She gazed out at shoppers battling against the elements, umbrellas blown inside out, huddling in doorways.
They didn’t stop for coffee or anything else until they got to an equally rainswept Brighton just over an hour later. They took the best part of another half hour trying to find somewhere to park, while Tess continued to dream of a cosy pub and a good movie.
‘Right!’ said Sanjeev as they finally found a space, ‘make sure you’re well buttoned and belted up – Brighton beach, here we come!’
Was he kidding ? No, he wasn’t. He took her hand and led her down a narrow street where, at the end, she could see the raging grey sea.
‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Tess asked, struggling to keep her hood on. Why had she bothered with her hair? Or her make-up, as the rain lashed against her face.
Sanjeev laughed. ‘Of course! We have come all this way to the seaside, so we must see the sea!’
‘We must?’
‘Tess, we are British. This is British summer weather! We can’t let some rain stop us from getting the sea air. I want to feel the spray, taste the salt, blow the dust of London away!’
As he spoke, a truck went by and doused them liberally with water from a giant puddle.
‘I’ve just felt the spray,’ Tess muttered, her right leg now soaked by wet denim .
They reached the deserted seafront. ‘Let’s turn right,’ he said brightly, ‘into the storm. Get the worst over with first, and then it’ll be behind us on the way back.’
They were the only people on the beach and for a brief moment she wondered if he might be joking, but he wasn’t. They struggled along the pebbles against the rain and the wind, hand in hand, water streaming down their fronts. I should have worn that waterproof mascara I bought for the wedding, Tess thought.
‘Not like Greece, is it?’ he laughed.
‘No, it damned well isn’t,’ she said, wiping her eyes so she could see where she was going. They battled on a little further before she said, ‘I don’t know about you, Sanjeev, but I’ve had more than enough!’
‘OK, OK,’ he said, chuckling. ‘Let’s turn round. It’ll be easier going back.’
It was, and now her back was soaked as well as her front. Tess began to see the funny side of it.
‘It’s due to clear up later,’ Sanjeev said, ‘but look, fish and chips!’ They’d got back to where they started. ‘I’ve just seen a sign over there.’ He pointed up a lane opposite.
‘Aren’t you vegetarian?’ Tess asked, visions of a nice glass of Merlot in a characterful pub rapidly dissipating.
‘Yes, but I do eat fish,’ he replied, steering her across the road and dodging the traffic.
The fish and chip shop was called Wanda’s. The sign on the counter, alongside the salt shakers and vinegar bottles, said ‘The fish isn’t called Wanda but the fish fryer is!’ Behind, with an arrow pointing to some tables and chairs, was another sign, which said ‘Wanda in for Waitress Service! ’
So in they wandered, Tess intent on finding a toilet to inspect her ruined hair and make-up. She stared at her dishevelled locks and panda eyes in the mirror, and tried to do some repairs. She finally emerged to find Sanjeev sitting at a table near the steamed-up window. It was warm, with a smell of fried food and wet clothes.
He grinned at her as she sat down. ‘I know this doesn’t exactly compete with the White Rose restaurant,’ he said, ‘but I just thought it might be fun to have a typical day’s outing to the seaside, British style.’
‘Hope you weren’t planning on a visit to the funfair after this,’ Tess joked, but nevertheless was aware that he just might be.
‘No, even I don’t fancy the Big Dipper in this weather! Ah, here’s the waitress – shall we have a pot of tea?’
Tess studied the menu. The place wasn’t licensed, so no Merlot. ‘Yes, tea’s fine,’ she said.
They both ordered haddock and chips. Did they want mushy peas? Tess thought of Orla’s feast on the way back from Birmingham. And a pickled onion? Pickled egg? Yes, yes, yes!
‘Such sophistication!’ laughed Sanjeev. Then, looking into her eyes, he said, ‘You don’t mind coming here, do you?’
‘No, of course I don’t mind,’ Tess said truthfully. She was beginning to find the whole thing charming in a strange sort of way; almost like a teenager’s romantic antics.
‘Then I’ll just need to find some candy-floss to round off the day,’ he said.
‘Are you serious, Sanjeev?’
‘No, I just wanted to see your face!’
They both exploded with laughter .
The fish and chips were delicious; Wanda had excelled herself.
‘How are the wedding plans coming along?’ he asked out of the blue.
‘Oh, fine, I think. Well, they’d better be, because the wedding’s only eight days away. But everything’s booked, I’ve finished Amber’s dress and also Ellie’s – she’s my little granddaughter, who’s going to be a flower girl.’
‘And have you had time to buy yourself something to wear?’ he asked with a smile.
‘Yes. I’ve found a lovely dress.’ Tess thought for a moment. ‘But I’ve still to find a hat !’
‘Have you found a date yet?’
Tess sighed. ‘No, I haven’t, but I’ve decided not to bother. I’m quite happy on my own.’
‘Are you sure? I’d be delighted to do the honours if you change your mind and can’t find anyone more suitable.’
‘You would ? You? ’
‘What’s wrong with me?’
‘Nothing, nothing at all! Oh my God, Sanjeev, that would be terrific! Are you really serious?’
‘Of course I am! Let me make a note of the date. Goodness only knows I’ve put in enough overtime, so they can’t deny me a day off.’
‘I can’t thank you enough!’ Tess hoped she didn’t sound too desperately grateful. But suddenly, bells were ringing, lights were flashing, fireworks were exploding in her head! This tall, handsome, successful man! She’d tell Gerry and Ursula that they’d met on a cruise , that he was a consultant and had gone to a great deal of trouble to get a day off from the Royal Marsden. Put that in your pipes and smoke it, Gerry and Arsula! she thought.
Tess no longer cared about the rain, the wind, the wet clothes, her ruined hair, the spilt vinegar on the Formica table. When they left Wanda’s, Tess had a peek into several shops before Sanjeev said, ‘Do you mind if we go back soon?’
It was only three o’clock and she’d been going to suggest a visit to the Royal Pavilion.
‘There’s a few calls I need to make this evening,’ he said, ‘before I have to attend a fundraising do at the Savoy. Not that I’ll be eating much!’ He patted his tummy.
‘No, no, that’s fine,’ Tess said. She was rapidly finding out that his work would always dominate. That was the way he was.
The wind had died down, the rain had lessened and, by the time they got back to Milbury, the sun had come out. All was fast becoming right with the world, Tess thought. Wait till I tell Orla!
‘Sanjeev’s going to escort me to the wedding,’ Tess said, ‘and I didn’t have to ask him, he actually offered.’
Orla rolled her eyes. ‘Last I heard, you were going to show the world how independent you were. Who needs a man, you said, in this day and age?’
‘Well, I’ve changed my mind.’
‘Has he kissed you yet?’ Orla asked. ‘I mean, really kissed you, not a peck on the cheek.’
‘Not really, no, but he’s not gay or anything. We’ve just had our dates cut short for one reason or another. ’
‘And do you mind?’ Orla persisted.
‘Mind what?’
‘Mind that he hasn’t snogged you, had a little grope or something.’
‘ Orla! ’
‘Because it doesn’t seem normal to me.’
‘Well, it’s fine by me, Orla. He’s just devoted to his work.’
‘And he always will be, by the sound of it. He’s the dedicated type, so let’s hope some emergency doesn’t keep him from being at the wedding.’
‘Of course it won’t. He said they owe him time off.’
‘So, when are you seeing him again?’
‘Probably not before the wedding now, but he’s going to phone.’
‘Hmm,’ said Orla. ‘Do you think you could fall in love with him?’
‘I don’t know. But he’s such a nice man…’
‘I do know,’ retorted Orla. ‘You’re not in love with him, you’re just attracted by his looks and his profession.’
‘Love comes in time,’ Tess quoted, trying to remember what Sanjeev had said. Something about respect and shared interests.
‘Not for you it doesn’t,’ Orla went on. ‘I know you better than anyone, and I’m telling you that if you were in love with him you’d know by now.’
‘Rubbish!’ said Tess.
‘You mark my words. But he’ll make a very nice escort for the wedding. Now, what are you going to do about getting your money back from MMM?’
‘Funny you should ask. I’m composing an email at the moment and here’s the draft of what I’ve written. What do you think?’
Tess passed Orla a sheet of paper .
I am writing to claim back my ￡150 MMM Hearts Club membership fee. I have met six males, as listed below, none of which has resulted in a relationship. Furthermore, they were plainly not all vetted for their eligibility, as you advertise. They are:
Benedict Leblanc – who is in a homosexual relationship. I was dated to pacify his mother.
James Jarvis – eligible but not compatible.
Andrew Barrymore – collects several women a week from MMM purely for sex.
Walter Watson – eligible but not compatible.
Douglas Morrison – after an overnight camping trip he had a heart attack and I discovered he was a married man.
George Barratt – eligible but not compatible.
There was also a William Appleton of the so-called Appleton Catering Services. This date I cancelled, having discovered that not only did he have a wife, but also the ‘catering empire’ describe in his MMM profile consisted of one shabby hamburger van.
Bearing in mind that at least three of these men were plainly not vetted by you, and that I have not found my ‘Ace of Hearts’, I expect my ￡150 to be reimbursed as soon as possible .
Orla snorted. ‘My God, you did meet a weird bunch, didn’t you? Well, good luck with that, but I expect they’ll have some excuse lined up to wriggle out of paying. ’
‘I shall keep at them until they do pay,’ Tess said firmly. ‘I need that money to cover the cost of a hat.’
‘ What! You haven’t bought a hat yet? The wedding’s on Saturday!’
‘I’ll buy one in Kingston tomorrow.’
‘What colour have you finally decided on?’
‘I haven’t. I’ll find something.’
The following morning Tess sent off the email to MMM, then took a photograph on her phone of the emerald green dress and set off for Kingston.
There were big hats, little hats, frothy hats, frilly hats, feathery hats and fascinators. None of them cut the mustard with Tess, until she was almost ready to go home and then, in a tiny boutique she’d never spotted before, there was The Hat. It was wide brimmed and frothy, and made of silks and ribbons in emerald green and turquoise. She hadn’t even considered turquoise as a colour that could be coordinated with emerald green, but it looked amazing. And different. And ￡125.
‘I’d never have considered these colours together,’ she told the saleslady, holding the phone next to the hat.
‘Well, you can see for yourself how stunning the combination is,’ was the reply. ‘And I have a bag too!’
The bag was small and made of narrow leather strips in exactly the same colours. It had a long gold chain, so she could wear it over her shoulder, and it would match the gold sandals she planned to wear.
‘It’s been reduced to just ￡50.’ Just ￡50, was she kidding? Tess was now spending ￡175, but never mind – the outfit would be perfect because this hat and bag were stunning, the dress was stunning and her escort was stunning. She’d lost nearly two and a half stone and she had a suntan. It had taken months of hard work. And, OK, she hadn’t met a soulmate, but deep down she hadn’t really expected to. And perhaps her friendship with Sanjeev would develop into something special.
When she got home with her purchases she checked her emails. And there it was:
Dear Mrs Templar,
Thank you for your communication, and we are sorry you were unable to find a suitable partner in our Hearts Club.
However, the rules specifically state that, after one date you must decide there and then not to progress the relationship further . You yourself have stated that you camped overnight with Mr Douglas Morrison.
We regret, therefore, that we are unable to refund your money.
Yours sincerely,
The MMM Team
Tess fumed. How dare they try to get out of repaying her! Yes, she had seen one or two of these men more than once, but MMM’s vetting procedures were dodgy; there was no denying that! She was going to win this battle, not least because of all the money she’d spent this afternoon. They might not be able to supply a suitable man, but they sure as hell were going to pay for the hat and the bag. She was not going to let the matter rest there.