Wild About You

Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

I was up early, but Jamie was even earlier. I found him making tea in the kitchen, dressed in black jeans and his copper-coloured sweater. He waved his phone at me and I caught a glimpse of a disconsolate Hugo staring out.

‘He ate one of my hiking boots,’ he said. ‘Or a bit of it, at least. Callum is taking him to the vet.’

‘Oh, poor Hugo,’ I said, taking the phone and staring at the large-eyed, I’m sorry look that was emanating from the screen. ‘I hope he’s alright.’

‘Apparently he’s wagging his tail and barking for his breakfast,’ said Jamie. ‘I’m told this picture captures his entire millisecond of remorse.’

‘Love it,’ I said.

‘Ready for our meetings?’

I poured milk into my coffee. ‘Born ready.’

‘Roshni says only city wankers say things like that.’

I snorted into my mug as I headed back to my room. ‘And she’s absolutely right.’

My corporate persona clicked back into place as easily as it had left me. I took extra time over my hair and make-up (war paint was important), re-ironed my navy peplum dress, and painted my nails a classic taupe that indicated I meant business. I saw Jamie take a breath when I emerged from my room. ‘I feel underdressed,’ he said, but the content of his look made excitement bubble in my chest.

‘You’re an earl,’ I said. ‘As a rule, you don’t need to dress up.’

‘So you’ve learned posh people’s rules now, have you?’ he said.

‘If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,’ I said.

We stared at each other for a dangerously long minute. I wanted to kiss him so much I could hardly breathe. Luckily, this was the moment that Fi crashed out of her bedroom door.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said brightly. ‘I was just chatting to Richard. He said he might pop down this evening.’

‘Pop down?’ I said. ‘It’s a seven-hour drive.’

‘Mm,’ she said. ‘Any coffee in that pot?’

‘My friend Mike says beavers are destructive,’ said the man who had looked me up and down when he walked into the room and was still periodically glancing in the direction of my breasts. ‘What next, wolves? Lions?’

‘I’d be on board with wolves,’ I said, raising an eyebrow. ‘But to address your first point – or should I say, Mike’s point – beavers are a keystone species in our isles. They engineer their surroundings, certainly, but only in positive ways. Their dams increase wildlife diversity, improve the water, and act to prevent flooding.’

He curled his lip and folded his arms across his chest. I offered to show him the film of our beavers taken by the local wildlife trust, but he cut me off.

Jamie sat forward and fixed him with his coldest gaze. ‘It’s clear you’re not listening to my colleague,’ he said, in a rough voice. ‘Perhaps you’d clear the slot for someone who’s serious about conservation.’

The man scrambled to his feet and exited so quickly, I thought he was going to trip over his feet.

Meanwhile, I fought the urge to fan myself.

‘Well, he was a waste of time,’ said Jamie.

‘We never had a chance,’ I said. ‘His board has told him to come and meet us because they’re upping their green credentials, but he’s a dinosaur. He’ll just go back and say we’re certified tree huggers, or something similar.’

Luckily, the next three meetings went well, and one possible sponsor lit up when Jamie incidentally mentioned the beagle sanctuary. ‘My son loves Snoopy,’ she said. ‘He’s into retro cartoons.’

‘If he loves Snoopy, he’ll really love Hugo,’ said Jamie. ‘I can offer a complimentary visit to the beagle sanctuary for sponsors who commit for eighteen months.’

‘She actually wrote that down,’ I said to him after she’d gone.

‘You do beavers, I’ll do beagles,’ he said, and we grinned at each other.

‘Am I imagining this,’ he said, ‘or are these meetings going really well?’

‘They are,’ I said. ‘I certainly think we’ve got a chance to get some sponsorship for our pine marten project, or some of the smaller regeneration plans. In the end you can never tell until they sign on the dotted line, but it feels positive.’

He was nodding, his gaze catching mine.

‘I like this,’ he said quietly, then closed his eyes with a little shake of his head, which was the cue for me to stare at the table and slightly move my chair away.

‘Who’s next?’ I said brightly.

He consulted the list. ‘A seedbomb provider.’

I relaxed. ‘Brilliant. At least they’ll be on our side.’

‘Am I doing enough?’ he said.

‘I’d be disappointed if you were chatty,’ I said. ‘There’s nothing quite like a strong, silent earl glowering in the corner of the room to put pompous corporate guys off their stride. That “my friend Mike” guy would have mentioned wolves in the first sentence if you hadn’t been here.’

I saw a glint in his eye but luckily, before he had the chance to reply, the door opened and admitted representatives of the biggest seedbomb company in the United Kingdom.

We arrived back at the apartment to the smell of burning toast. Richard was making Fi her favourite comfort food: cindery toast with butter and jam. ‘She’s lying down,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, she’s fine. I guess she wasn’t prepared to feel rough two months out, after having such an easy ride for the last seven. I’ll stay the night, if that’s okay?’

‘Of course,’ said Jamie. ‘And she’s been a star. She hasn’t stopped sending me emails all day.’

Richard grinned. ‘I think she’s most annoyed that she won’t get to go dancing with Anna.’ He disappeared off into Fi’s room bearing his toasty treasure.

Jamie’s phone chimed and he looked at it. ‘Hugo’s fine, it seems,’ he said. ‘Apparently his beagle digestion has coped with the boot. We could open the champagne?’

We stood and looked at each other. ‘Although that’s probably not a good idea,’ he said. Neither of us looked away.

There was a knock at the door. Irritation flickered over Jamie’s face, then he looked at his watch and swore under his breath. ‘I forgot. Press.’

‘Bloody hell.’ I levered my feet back into my high heels as he went to the door.

The journalist was a petite, classically styled redhead with highly labelled jewellery, clothes and handbag that she wore with slightly dishevelled carelessness. She was authentically Sloaney and introduced herself perkily as ‘Juliet, from Country House magazine.’ She was accompanied by Jack, a faintly scruffy photographer who looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else than here. They seemed a tight enough pair though, with relaxed, sibling-like body language, and they brought a faint miasma of cigarette smoke with them.

‘Anna,’ I said, shaking their hands. ‘I was just about to put the kettle on. What would you like?’

‘Coffee please,’ said Juliet. ‘Mine’s black. Jack likes milk and two sugars.’

The photographer grinned. ‘Any posh biscuits?’

Juliet elbowed him in the ribs.

‘We’re all out, I’m afraid,’ I said. It was true; Fi had been going through them like a forest fire through dry tinder. ‘I’ll be back with the drinks in a minute.’

Jamie gave me a grateful look as I passed him. As I put the kettle on, I could hear Juliet chatting to him. Jamie was bringing up the rewilding plan, talking about the beavers, the work we were doing to diversify the woodland, and the plans he had for young people from disadvantaged backgrounds to get work experience in land management. We had talked about this plan a lot in the last day; I heard the pride in his voice as he described it, without a hint of uncertainty or trademark grumpiness. He sounded… hopeful.

‘Wonderful, wonderful,’ Juliet was saying. ‘But also, I wanted to do a kind of personal viewpoint, too. What does Stonemore mean to you – how do you feel about it?’

Silence fell. I left the kettle boiling and stepped into the living room. I could see Jamie’s face. He was temporarily frozen, lost for words. His smile had faded to nothing. I remembered his words about boarding school: he’d been trained not to express his feelings, not to show them. Vulnerability equalled death .

‘I think the rewilding is wonderful,’ he said, catching on the word she’d been using. ‘I think it can only be a good thing.’

Juliet tilted her head and frowned. ‘Um, well, yes…’ she said.

I couldn’t bear the look on Jamie’s face. Like a schoolboy called out by a teacher; as though he knew things were going wrong, but he didn’t know how to fix it.

‘The earl thinks of his ancestors every day,’ I said, loudly enough to make everyone turn. Satisfied I’d got Juliet’s attention, I continued. ‘He knows he’s the custodian of something far greater than him. Stonemore is a jewel in the crown of Northumberland. It’s been a fortress, then a family home, for centuries. But now, Jamie’s in a position to ensure it’s much more than that. It can give back to the land and the people who have nourished it. What we’re doing is new, but if the first earl woke up and walked out into Stonemore’s acres, he would still recognise it. We’re taking care of the present for the sake of the future, but also to honour the past.’

Juliet had directed her mobile’s microphone towards me and was scribbling notes, smiling. After a minute we all looked at each other.

‘Yeah, what she said,’ said Jamie, and we all laughed.

‘Teamwork,’ said Juliet, making another note. ‘And I understand congratulations are in order.’ She looked up and smiled. ‘When’s the wedding?’

‘Oh.’ It was my turn to freeze; the shock of it gut-punched me. I looked at Jamie for help.

‘This isn’t…’ He paused. ‘This isn’t my fiancée.’

Jack looked up from adjusting his camera, a slow smile dawning on his face as he looked at Juliet’s stricken expression.

‘Oh…’ Juliet looked backwards and forwards between us. ‘I’m so sorry. I just assumed—’

‘My fault entirely,’ said Jamie. ‘I didn’t introduce you properly. Anna is our rewilding manager at Stonemore.’

‘Pleased to meet you again,’ Juliet said with a smile. ‘But – is your fiancée here at all, Lord Roxdale? We’d love to get a picture of the two of you. Our readers would love the romantic angle.’

‘No, she’s not,’ said Jamie. And, as if to fill the resulting silence, ‘She’s not really a city person.’

‘I’d best be getting ready for this evening,’ I said, and left them to it.

As I freshened my make-up and got changed into jeans and a cotton Oxford shirt, I heard the soft click click of the camera and the perky voice of Juliet as she directed Jack. Then the door slammed as they left.

I sat on the edge of the bed. The day had taken it out of me. Being with Jamie all day had been harder than I’d imagined. Every so often, the atmosphere had crackled between us like the air before a storm, and my desire for him – a desire so strong it felt like a physical force – had come in waves. I’d had to adult very hard to resist doing something unwise; I knew the slightest thing might trip that hair trigger. I’d had the sense that even if I’d just brushed his hand with my own, it would have been game over for both of us. I sensed it in him too: a certain rigidity to the way he held himself, the way compliments had slipped from him as though he hardly intended to say them. The steely, just-breakable toughness of his blue eyes.

I closed my eyes against the thoughts in my head, stood up, and sprayed on some perfume.

I came out to find Jamie inspecting a slice of cold pizza he’d just extracted from the fridge. ‘This looks less than appetising. Shall we go out for dinner?’

God, that sounded good. Dinner with Jamie as opposed to coffee with Sean. I realised I’d been dreading it. ‘Sorry, I’m meeting someone.’

‘Oh, right.’ He put the pizza back and looked at his feet, seemingly to avoid my gaze. ‘I forgot, London is your natural territory, isn’t it?’

I shrugged. ‘A bit. Have a good evening.’

‘You too. Take care out there.’

I smiled. ‘There aren’t any wolves.’

‘If you aren’t back by midnight, I’ll come looking for you.’

‘Thanks, Dad.’

He smiled, but when I got to the door I turned and looked back at him. He was turned away from me, fists clenched, staring at the floor.

In the lift I checked my phone again.

TOBIAS Lucinda is driving me mad. MAD!s She’s in here every five minutes. She actually made Tally cry .

ANNA What?!

TOBIAS Yep. Tally’s gone home. I doubt she’ll be in tomorrow .

ANNA Cripes. Well done for hanging on in there. You haven’t used our code word so I assume you’re not at your limit .

We’d decided on the codeword ‘banana’ to signal if things were getting out of hand and Fi or me had to get involved.

TOBIAS Believe me, I’m almost there. BTW that Darren bloke’s been in to look at one of the pictures. He tried to flirt with Tally and Lucinda at the same time. He’s unexpectedly creepy.

I sent a nauseous emoji as the lift doors opened. He sent me a 100 per cent emoji.

Chandos was a coffee bar on a small street near Pimlico, halfway between Sean’s workplace and where I used to work. As I neared it, the familiarity of the streets worked its way into me and I felt a veil of sadness-tinged nostalgia fall over everything. There was the tapas bar we’d gone to on our second date, and there was the near derelict house we used to wonder about – OMG, there was the tabby cat we nicknamed Arthur!

I stood to look at the cat. He was lying on the wall in a patch of fading sunlight. He looked at me with a distinct air of disdain.

‘I see you’ve found Arthur.’

I turned. Sean. It was surreal to see him in real life, so close. Over the past few months he’d morphed into a voice on a phone, a series of text messages. In my mind he’d grown smaller, like a picture on a TV screen, thanks to all my meditation exercises. But now he was beside me, and the overwhelming feeling was one of familiarity. I knew that look on his face – that mixture of gladness and uncertainty. I knew the type of pomade on his hair. Why he’d chosen that tie to go with that suit.

‘Hello, you,’ he said.

We embraced lightly, like friends. There was the scent of him. The number of times in the days after our break-up when I’d pressed my face into a sweatshirt of his, to get a hint of that familiar smell. But now I felt – nothing. Was this shock? Was this the numbness of those terrible months after the break-up, reasserting itself, warning me to protect myself?

As we walked into the coffee bar, he was talking, talking. Somehow his voice kept fading out as I focused on putting one foot in front of the other. But it was fine, because he didn’t seem to need my input.

‘… so I said to Kelly, there’s no way I’m working on that project…’

‘… to that restaurant, but it was an awful evening, not like when we were there…’

Had he always been like this? I thought, sipping the strong black coffee I ordered. Had he always used me as a sounding board, not caring whether I replied or not?

‘Anna?’

I focused on his face.

‘It’s so good to see you again. I’ve missed you so much.’

I smiled weakly. He waited, his eyes questioning.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ I said. It seemed simpler just to say it. And it was partly true. I’d missed him a lot – so much – at the beginning. I’d obsessively thought over our relationship, my brain bathed in a cocktail of sorrow and anger. But, gradually, that had lessened. With every plant I’d put in the ground, every joke of Tobias’s I’d laughed at, every time I’d been booped by Hugo, that cocktail had lessened in strength. And there was Jamie.

Jamie had been something entirely new. Grumpy, maddening, hilarious, and so utterly gorgeous just the thought of him tumbled me into delirium. Yes, I’d rejected him – for his own sake. But in this moment, I was homesick for him.

I looked down to see Sean tracing the outline of my fingers on the table.

‘How’s things with you?’ he said.

Finally, a question about me ! I thought, and realised I would have said that out loud to Jamie with a fair dose of sarcasm. But not to Sean. I edited myself with Sean. I always had.

‘Fine,’ I said, and took another sip of my coffee.

He nodded, as though I’d said something profound. I could tell he was holding something back; he was excited about something. Weirdly, this made me even calmer.

‘Hasn’t changed much in here, has it?’ I said, looking around at the retro banquettes, all red leather, chrome and Formica.

I needed a therapist. This man, this love of my life, was positively boring me, and was making me boring too. I was boring myself.

‘Anna,’ he said, in his gentlest voice. ‘I’m ready.’

And with that, he took a small box from his jacket pocket and put it on the table.

I swallowed hard. ‘What’s that?’ I said.

The thing is, I knew what it was. I knew it because I recognised the box: blue leather, gold tooling, and with a small chunk knocked out of the leather where I’d thrown it across the room.

The box contained my engagement ring. Our engagement ring.

He was smiling; I was sinking. Couldn’t he see it on my face? How could he misread this situation so completely?

‘I’m ready for us to move on,’ he said, putting his hand over mine. ‘Together.’

I cleared my throat. ‘Can I have some water please?’ I called to the nearby waiter. He nodded and went off to the kitchen.

I started coughing. It was as though my throat had closed up. Sean rubbed my back and I stifled the urge to elbow him in the face.

Why so angry, Anna?

This would need next-level journalling when I got home. It would need craft supplies: glitter, watercolours, possibly even papier maché.

The water came, I drank and descended into silence.

‘What d’you say?’ he said, as though we were joking around. He opened the box, and at the sight of the familiar diamond cluster I felt sick to my stomach. I slammed the box shut.

‘Hey…’ He looked wounded.

‘Explain,’ I croaked, and had to take another sip of water. ‘Explain what you mean by move on.’

‘Oh.’ He hadn’t prepared for this. Lord, he really had me down as a pushover. But then he had known yes-girl-Anna, three-bags-full-Anna, embrace-the-power-of-yes-Anna.

‘It’s been difficult,’ he said. ‘For both of us. I know. Processing what happened. The fact is, I thought I could move on, but I can’t. I’m in love with you, Anna. I’m ready to accept you – as you are. I can live without kids. As long as I’ve got you.’

I swallowed hard. ‘So,’ I said, ‘let me get this right. You’ve road-tested a hundred other women but they’re just not quite right. So you’ve decided to forgive me for something that was never my fault in the first place.’

I could see him processing the words, and it was taking a long time. He was a smart guy, but something wasn’t computing.

‘I never said forgive,’ he said. ‘That’s not what I meant. And I thought this was what you wanted? You wanted us to stay together.’

I realised I was tapping my foot. I was sitting on a bubbling cauldron of emotion that was threatening to erupt at any moment.

‘It was,’ I said. ‘But I’m not so sure now. You’re fine with it now, in this precise moment, but what about in five years? Ten? Every Christmas, when the TV is showing ads with little kids and perfect families? I reckon you’ll milk it for everything it’s worth.’ I adopted a whiny, high-pitched voice that I didn’t recognise. ‘Ooh, Anna, I’m so sad about not having babies, you’d better buy me a Porsche to make me feel better!’

He flinched. ‘Why are you being so horrible?’

‘Maybe I am horrible, Sean. Or maybe honesty hurts sometimes. Anyway, this is me, the real Anna, nice to meet you. You were pretty horrible back in the day too. Turns out humans often are. You say you’re ready to accept me, like some consolation prize. I tell you what, why don’t you pop yourself back on Tinder and try out some more laydeez , give yourself a real run at finding happiness?’

‘This isn’t you. You’re hurt, I get it. I’ve been hurting too. But we can get over this.’

‘Okay.’ I took a breath. ‘You say you want me as I am. What is that, exactly?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What do you love about me?’

‘Um…’ He sat and thought for so long I thought I was going to have to order another coffee.

‘Your eyes,’ he said. ‘I love how they shine when you’re happy.’

‘And?’

‘You’re a great hostess. You have lovely skin. You like cooking. You’re clever. You’re kind.’ There were actual tears in his eyes. ‘You always pick me up when I fall.’ He nodded. ‘Metaphorically speaking.’

I nodded back. ‘That’s nice. It’s not quite right, though. You missed a few key qualities out. I’m sarcastic, Sean, really sarcastic.’

He frowned. ‘No, you’re not.’

‘Trust me, I am. I’m a narky cow. I don’t like cooking nearly as much as you think I do. I don’t naturally have clear skin, I just wear make-up. I swear a lot even if it’s only in my head. Some days, I don’t shower. I prefer dogs to people.’ I looked at him, whirled my hand. ‘The list goes on, and on. All the things you don’t know about me. And that’s not all your fault. It’s partly mine. When we were together, I lost myself. No, I gave myself up – hands in the air.’

‘I never—’

‘I know you never asked me to. I just – did it. From day one. Saw what you wanted, and gave it to you. First date: Mexican food. I don’t really like Mexican food, but I wanted to please you so much I convinced myself I liked it.’ I handed him a napkin. His eyes were getting moist. He’d need to blow his nose in thirty seconds.

‘You got one thing right though,’ I said. ‘I did pick you up when you fell. But what happened when I fell?’

He blew his nose.

‘And it was my first fall, Sean. When we found out I couldn’t have children. I’d worked so hard to keep things the way you liked them. Always to be strong, happy Anna – great at work, fun to be with, effortlessly efficient. Then I fell. It was a big fall, I get that. Huge. But you let go of me, the minute it happened.’ I had to pause, take a breath. ‘You let me fall into the gutter.’

‘It was hard for me too,’ he said.

That was the line I’d always played in my head – poor lad, imagine. But now something in me had hardened.

‘Not as hard as it was for me,’ I said, drinking the rest of my water. ‘You had options. One hundred of them, as it turned out. I didn’t.’

‘So you’re saying there’s no way back for us?’ His tears had dried. A tiny voice in the back of my brain noted how quickly his tears had dried. I could have wept for England when we split. I looked at him, taking in every detail of his face. He looked so – ordinary.

‘That’s the thing,’ I said. ‘I don’t think there is a way back.’

‘I see,’ he said flatly.

I stood up as he put the ring box in his pocket. I kissed him on the forehead as though he was a child – our child. Who would that child have been? I thought. Then I blinked away the tears that sprung into my eyes. And I left the Chandos coffee bar, and the life we had built together, him sitting there, looking at his empty cup. Until that moment, our life had still been waiting for us, an empty but furnished apartment, lights on, waiting for us to walk back in the door. But now, I turned the lights off, and the vans were coming, to empty it.