Chapter 2 #2
Then again, Jamie Hamilton was someone you couldn’t help noticing; he was never going to slip under the radar.
Even if he didn’t have those striking good looks, the body alone would be enough to attract anyone’s attention.
Fen wasn’t a fan of rugby, but she knew of him through his appearances on TV, on comedy panels and chat shows.
The first time she’d encountered him in the flesh – so to speak – he’d been standing behind her in the queue at the local deli as she waited to pay for her Scotch egg.
Unaccustomed to being inches away from someone off the telly, she’d been hyper aware of his presence, the just-showered smell of him and the mintiness of his breath on the back of her neck.
Paying the cashier, she’d wished she was buying something more exotic than a Scotch egg.
Then, taking a bit longer than entirely necessary to slide her credit card back into her purse while it was his turn to pay, she’d seen that he was buying two bundles of asparagus, a bottle of aged balsamic vinegar, a wedge of Brie and a ribbon-wrapped box of macarons that she knew for a fact had a price tag of twenty-six pounds fifty.
Loitering on the pavement outside, she’d watched as he emerged from the deli and strode across the street to the silver sports car parked directly opposite.
Evidently when you were Jamie Hamilton, parking spaces magically made themselves available, while she’d had to drive around Clifton for ages before finally managing to leave her car down a narrow side street nearly half a mile away.
It must be a nice skill to possess.
The second time she’d seen him, he’d done something that hadn’t been terrible, but it wasn’t great either, which was the downside of being recognisable.
She’d been at a friend-of-a-friend’s party at a bar on Whiteladies Road, and Amanda, the birthday girl, had been gleefully telling everyone that Jamie Hamilton would be arriving soon because she’d met him at a works event the other evening and invited him to join them tonight.
It was stiflingly hot in the bar, and after an hour, Fen slipped outside to get some fresh air. When a taxi drew up and a group of men emerged, she spotted Jamie Hamilton and felt relieved on Amanda’s behalf that he’d turned up.
The next moment, glancing at the brightly lit name of the bar above the entrance, Jamie said, ‘Hang on, I’ve just remembered something. We don’t want to go to this one.’
One of his friends said, ‘Why not? I was in there the other week. It’s fine.’
But Jamie was shaking his head. ‘There’s a party on tonight. I was invited to it by this girl. She was pretty full-on, and I know what it’ll be like if we go in.’
Another friend said, ‘No bother, there’s plenty more bars to choose from.’
Fen, leaning against the wall, hidden in the shadows, pictured Amanda’s disappointment and heard herself say, ‘She’s expecting you to be there.’
She was glad of the darkness enveloping her when they all turned to look in her direction.
The first friend laughed. ‘They always do.’
‘Look, I’m sorry.’ This was from Jamie. ‘But I can’t even remember her name. We’re out tonight for a few drinks and a catch-up.’
‘It’s her birthday,’ Fen reminded him.
‘I know, she kept telling me. She was quite . . . pushy.’
‘Come on,’ said his mate, ‘we’ll find somewhere else further up the road.
’ He clapped Jamie on the shoulder and made to leave, but Jamie turned back and looked at Fen, still in shadow.
‘I really am sorry about your friend. But it might be kinder if you don’t mention any of this. ’ He gestured vaguely.
It would be kinder if you popped in and wished her a happy birthday. Fen didn’t say it. At least he was feeling guilty. She shrugged. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell her you were here. Her name’s Amanda, by the way.’
‘That’s it.’ He nodded. ‘Thanks.’
When he’d left, she’d headed back inside to rejoin the party and hadn’t mentioned her brief encounter with Jamie Hamilton to anyone, either then or at any time since. Whereas he’d doubtless forgotten it completely, she’d remembered every detail of their brief exchange.
And now here he was again, grinning up at her unrepentantly from her phone, due to be on board the SS La Violetta the exact same week she’d be cruising on it with Disa.
What were the chances?
Still, at least he wouldn’t recognise her.
Here came her grandmother now, attracting attention from other diners as she threaded her way between the tables. When it came to slinking, Disa could out-slink Naomi Campbell. Taking her seat, she said, ‘All sorted. The travel agent’s booked everything, including the flights.’
‘There’s going to be a famous rugby player on board with us.’ Fen showed her the page on her phone.
‘I saw that. No idea who he is, though.’ Disa wasn’t a fan of the sport either.
‘He lives here in Bristol.’
‘Does he? Rugby’s so muddy, not my kind of thing. Quite pretty, though,’ Disa added with a mischievous smile. ‘You might like him.’
Fen briefly wondered how Jamie Hamilton would feel being called quite pretty. Firmly, she said, ‘Not my kind of thing either.’
‘We’ll have fun anyway.’ Disa caught the sommelier’s eye. ‘Now, shall we order some wine, darling? Maybe Prosecco to celebrate? And let’s take a look at this menu.’
Being taken out like this was a treat Fen always looked forward to.
Because she worked from home, as a remote PA, designated breaks weren’t a thing, and lunches consisted of whatever was left in the fridge being eaten in front of her laptop.
It was the self-employed way. But today there were seared scallops, shiitake mushrooms in a white wine sauce and a spring vegetable risotto on offer. She was definitely having those.
When they’d ordered, and their drinks had been poured, they clinked glasses. Fen said, ‘I’m so lucky to have you. And I can’t wait for us to explore Venice.’
‘I’m glad you’re coming with me. There’s something I need to do while we’re over there and it’ll be good to have your support.’
Fen raised her eyebrows. ‘What kind of something?’
But Disa was already shaking her head. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’ She took a tiny sip of Prosecco. ‘Let’s leave it until we get there.’
‘But . . . support? Is it something I should be worrying about?’
‘No, sweetheart. Not at all.’
‘Is it something nice?’
‘Until it happens, if it even happens, we won’t know. Maybe not, but hopefully yes. And that’s enough for now.’
Fen adored feel-good romantic movies. She gasped and exclaimed, ‘Oh my God, have you tracked down an old boyfriend from years ago? Or has one of them contacted you and wants to meet up? Disa, is that what this is all about?’
‘Shh.’ Disa was smiling her mysterious smile. ‘Not another word. You’ll have to wait and see.’