Chapter 29
FRANKIE
‘I want to say “Cheer up; it might never happen”,’ says Simon, ‘but clearly it already has.’
‘Yeah.’ I stare morosely into my hot chocolate.
It’s Monday morning and we’ve just finished making a shortlist of people to interview to fill my position in the café.
‘None of them will be as good as you,’ Simon tells me.
‘I’m sure they will,’ I say, still morose.
‘You don’t have to leave?’
‘I do. I want to live somewhere where I don’t feel as though I’m avoiding someone.
And, honestly, it’s going to take me a long time to be happy around Marcus.
And, also, how else are we going to tell Gran and Roderick that we’ve fizzled out if I don’t move back to London?
I’m going to tell them I’ve had a great job offer that I couldn’t refuse but not to worry on the relationship front, Marcus and I will do long distance.
And then, like many long-distance things, our romance will fall apart.
And Gran and Roderick will be a bit sad for us but they’ll see that we’re both very happy with our single lives. ’ I sniff.
The bell on the door tinkles as someone opens the door and I vaguely look up, only to immediately stiffen. The person who has walked in is Marcus.
‘Hi,’ he says, looking straight at me. ‘I wondered if there was a moment when you’d be free to go for a walk this afternoon.’
‘Erm, I’m very busy today,’ I say. ‘And generally, actually.’ I really don’t want to have another miserable conversation and go back to square one Marcus-related-despair-wise.
‘No you aren’t,’ Simon says. ‘She’s extremely free this afternoon. Is half two at the stile good? I’ll cover here.’
I give him a death stare and whisper-hiss, ‘Sorry, why are you betraying me?’
‘Great,’ says Marcus, and turns to leave.
I can’t really think why he would want to talk. Oh. Maybe, in fact probably, he wants to formally end our fake romance now instead of fizzling it out in due course. That is not an in-person conversation I want to have.
When the door’s closed behind him, I say, ‘I don’t want to talk to him.’
‘Mm.’ Simon’s phone has buzzed and he’s busy texting. He puts it down. ‘Sorry, sorry. Business message. Right. Let’s decide what you’re going to wear.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, come on,’ he tsks. ‘You obviously want to look your absolute best.’
‘In order to be made even more miserable?’
Simon shakes his head. ‘Frankie. You do have to do the classic “remind him what he’s missing”. You can’t not.’
‘No,’ I say.
* * *
Four hours later, wearing my most flattering jeans and a very nice new jumper under my favourite coat, my hair and make-up done to Simon’s satisfaction, I’m trudging towards the stile to meet Marcus, thinking he could just have texted me.
He’s there before me and, as always, even that very first time in the café, when I thoroughly disliked him, my breath catches at his handsomeness.
He’s in dark jeans and a navy jumper under a wool blazer, surprisingly formal for a country walk.
He’s probably on his way to a meeting and doesn’t have much time to spare.
We walk up the hill behind the High Street, not speaking as we go.
‘A beautiful day,’ I observe eventually. It is. It’s chilly in the shade but warm in the sun, and the almost bare trees are very striking against the clear sky. I’d rather think about the weather than about Marcus.
‘Lovely,’ he agrees, before we revert to silence.
Halfway up the hill, Marcus stops walking and says, ‘So.’
‘So?’ I stop too.
‘I love you,’ he says. ‘Thank you for helping with Ruby last week.’
‘Anyone would have helped,’ I say, eyes narrowed at the unnecessary I love you, which I’m going to ignore. ‘And, also, no need to thank me again. Thank you for the lovely card and flowers.’ He sent them the day after.
‘Thank you for talking to her about your mum.’
‘I thought I should. I hope I didn’t overstep the mark. I feel like there are parallels and I didn’t want her to grow up feeling as though it was her fault her mother didn’t want to live with her. Better to work things out at fourteen than thirty-five.’
‘Well, it was very kind of you.’
‘Honestly no problem. Why did you want to go for a walk?’
‘Because I love you.’
I don’t reply, because, honestly, what a stupid thing to say in this situation.
‘What I mean is…’ He takes a step forward and I cross my arms over my chest and take a step backwards. ‘Ruby told me that she was being selfish and she understands that me loving you doesn’t take away from me loving her and Sam.’
‘Oh-kay,’ I say slowly. I can’t totally process what’s happening here, because I’m not exactly sure what he’s saying.
‘I feel,’ he says, ‘as though I’m on the brink of really, really messing this up.’
I nod. I feel that too, although I don’t actually know why he even brought me here.
Marcus clears his throat.
‘We have had what felt to me quite an intense relationship, and we did it entirely upside down. Like we started by announcing it, and… yeah. I mean, obviously I don’t need to summarise it for you.’
I nod.
‘Yep,’ he says. ‘Still on the messing-up brink.’
I nod again.
‘Okay. Really, all I want to say is: would you like to go out on a real date with me? Not a fake one? A real one. A not-for-show one. A real, private one, just for us. And see where we go from there? With – I have to be honest – a very big hope on my side that we will end up in a very serious, long-term relationship, because, as I might have mentioned before, I love you very, very much.’
I frown. This is everything I wanted from Marcus. Except… I don’t know.
What if it happens again, him splitting up with me? What if… Well, I don’t know. What if, really, I’m not that lovable and he won’t want to stay in a relationship with me? If we start one.
Marcus interrupts my thoughts.
‘I’ve done this all wrong. Could we just go round here?’ He leads me through some trees into a little clearing and I gasp.
There’s a check-cloth-covered table with a chair on each side of it, and in the middle of the table is one of Simon’s carrot cakes, with two plates, plus a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
‘Oh my goodness,’ I say.
‘I wanted to make an effort. Full disclosure: Simon helped. I texted him straight after I left the café.’
I nod, pleased at the explanation; that’s why Simon was on his phone in my hour of need.
Marcus leads me over to the table and pulls my chair out for me to sit down, before taking a napkin from the table and laying it on my lap with a flourish.
‘First things first,’ he says, seating himself opposite me. ‘I was entirely in the wrong with carrot-cake-gate. This is all for you.’
‘Finally,’ I say, beginning to smile. I look at the cake. ‘I’d like to share it with you.’
‘I’m honoured.’ He cuts two pieces and lays them on our plates.
‘I love you,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry that I hurt you.’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ I know that’s true.
‘Most importantly—’ he has a heartrendingly earnest expression on his face ‘—you are lovable. So indescribably wonderful. I adore your company. Everything about you. I would never leave you by choice.’
‘I love you too,’ I say. This suddenly all seems very straightforward. ‘I’d love to go on a proper date with you.’
Marcus takes my hands in his across the table. ‘Thank you for understanding about the kids. I love you so very much.’
Then he stands up and walks round the table and we kiss and kiss, until I remember the cake and champagne and the effort Simon put into helping and point out that we should have some.
‘Sharing carrot cake with you is a lot more fun than arguing over it,’ Marcus says later, after we’ve eaten and drunk and done al fresco things I never thought I’d do.
‘Mmm.’ I kiss him again. ‘I love you.’