Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
A n hour and a half later, I drive out of the dealership parking lot in the convertible I just test drove. Deliriously happy, and unfazed by the seat squelching beneath me, I hoot with joy as I remember the look on Sleazy Steve’s face when Grant told him – having been briefed by me – that I wanted that car, there and then, or no sale. It seems Steve was fully convinced by my earlier threat to report him to his superiors, because he didn’t put across even the slightest objection. It was win-win, because I was able to help Grant improve his sales stats and cover up his faux pas – and I got an amazing deal on the car with it being a demonstrator model.
On arriving outside Cat’s apartment block, I park in one of the visitor’s spaces and run inside to change into some dry clothes. I then grab a towel and some plastic carrier bags, and head back out the car. I’m in the middle of mopping up the puddles in the leather seat seams when Cat arrives home from work. She rushes over to me, her face a conflicting mix of excitement and concern .
‘I thought you weren’t getting a sports car. What happened? That must have cost a packet.’
‘Au contraire…’ I give a sly smile. ‘It’s one of their demo cars, which knocks a whack off the price ticket, and I managed to negotiate an extra discount too. Oh, and it’s a hybrid engine, so I can kick about mainly on electric, saving myself money on petrol.’
‘ Amazing . Well done, you.’
‘Thanks… I have to admit, I’m feeling pretty pleased with myself. Anyway, I must go, or I’ll be late.’
‘You heading back to the hotel?’ she asks.
‘Nope. I’m taking Lottie out for dinner.’ I jump into the driver’s seat and start the ignition. ‘Not that she knows it yet.’
‘Oh, that’s lovely. Have a great time.’
I give her a little salute and pull out of the space.
A short time later, I pull into Lottie’s driveway in Ratho. She must hear the wheels on the gravel, because she comes to the front door, gaping in astonishment.
‘You’ve obviously had quite a day,’ she says as I’m getting out of the car.
‘Yup.’ My grin is so wide, it’s probably visible from the moon. ‘It was incredible . I’m so glad you suggested I do this.’
‘As am I. That’s quite a machine. You’ll need to take me for a drive in it sometime.’
‘How about now?’ I waggle my eyebrows mischievously. ‘I’ve booked us a table at McArthur’s Larder in Bruntsfield.’
Lottie looks a little taken aback. ‘You’ve booked a restaurant for dinner? My love, I didn’t even know you were coming. Have I forgotten? I know I’m getting old, but— ’
‘You haven’t forgotten anything.’ I usher her back inside. ‘I wanted to surprise you. Now go and put on something nice.’
‘Oh… all right. Give me a few minutes, then.’
I watch her slowly climb the stairs, using her stick to help her. It’s obvious that she’s finding it a challenge, but from the ticking off I’ve now had on several occasions, I know better than to try and help her. I wait patiently until she’s ready, and on opening the passenger door for her, Lottie clocks the plastic bags on the seat and regards me quizzically.
‘It’s a long story,’ I say. ‘One I’ll very much enjoy sharing with you over dinner.’
I help her into the car, and then get into the driver’s seat.
‘Emma, this is all very unnecessary. A FaceTime call would have been more than enough.’
‘Not for you, it wouldn’t.’ I help her with her seatbelt. ‘As you refused to join me on my little adventure, you can at least let me take you for a nice meal.’
‘I suppose it’s difficult to argue with that,’ she concedes with a light frown.
We leave Lottie’s cul-de-sac and drive to the edge of the village, where I pull over and apply the foot brake.
‘Watch this.’ I hit the button to retract the roof.
Lottie looks flabbergasted as it folds away behind us, and the early evening sun bathes us in a warm glow. ‘Good grief. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a car this smart.’
‘Well, hold on to your hair. Because it’s about to get windy.’
I pull out onto the open road, hit the accelerator and give Lottie the drive of her life. She laughs more than I’ve ever seen her, as we tear along the road, our hair flapping around our faces.
Later, as we’re eating, I fill Lottie in on my day and I can see that she’s enjoying this experience immensely. Having spent so many years physically and emotionally locked away in her makeshift prison, it warms my heart to see her finally getting some real enjoyment from life. Though it also tugs at me that she’s missed out on so much. I decide we need more outings together in the future, regardless of what she says.
‘That was very shrewd and kind of you negotiating that deal on the car,’ says Lottie, when we’ve finished our meal and she’s sipping her decaf coffee. ‘I’m sure that young man appreciated your support. You’re a good girl, Emma.’ She pauses reflectively. ‘You really have had quite a day.’
‘I have.’ I chew on one of the petit fours that’s been served with the coffee. ‘And it’s all thanks to you.’
‘Nonsense. I simply steered you in the right direction. It’s you who is creating the experiences and the memories.’
‘I suppose. Have you enjoyed your meal?’
‘I have indeed. Thank you ever so much.’ She dabs at the corners of her mouth with her napkin and pops it down on the table. ‘The food was quite exquisite. You’ve made an old woman very happy.’
‘Exactly what I was aiming for.’ I blow her a kiss and then signal for the bill.
After dropping Lottie off at home, I park in the hotel’s underground car park and return to my suite. I want to feel nice and refreshed ahead of tomorrow’s spa marathon to get maximum benefit from the experience, so an earlier night than usual is exactly what’s needed .
Just as I’m snuggling down under the feather duvet, my phone alerts me to a new message. Lifting it from the bedside table, I’m expecting it to be from my mum or one of the girls, but when I see the notification on the screen, I freeze. It’s from Dave.
Hey, Dimples. Long time no speak. I’ve been wondering how you’re doing. Meet me for a drink tomorrow after work? xx
I stare at the message, unable to form any rational thought, but it’s not long before the floodgates open.
What the hell? He made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me. What’s changed? Does he want to get back together? Does he know about my win? And what’s with the two kisses at the end of his message? That was our thing when we were together but it’s hardly appropriate for where we are now. I suddenly remember what Vivienne said – to be wary of people turning up unexpectedly. But how could Dave know? We don’t have any mutual friends and I’ve only shared my news with a handful of people. Has he bumped into one of the girls? Surely they wouldn’t give him the time of day.
My shock morphs into anger.
He has such a nerve. Not a peep out of him all this time. And now he’s messaging me like we’re old pals. Worse, he’s used my pet name. What makes him think I’m going to drop my plans and meet him at such short notice? After all that’s happened. He can get lost. I’m so over him.
Then my old habits take over.
Though, what if he’s recognised how badly he treated me? Maybe he wants to apologise. Or he’s realised that he’s made a mistake. People can change, especially when they have a wake-up call, like at the end of a relationship. I should at least meet him and hear what he has to say.
Conflicted, I decide I should sleep on it, so I wait half an hour before sending him a tentative reply, making sure I come across as happy and busy – which I am. I also add just one kiss, because two feels wrong, and I can’t bring myself to be so cold that I don’t add any at all.
Hey, I’m good thanks. Not sure about tomorrow. Got a lot on this week. Text you in the morning if I can. x
My phone buzzes almost immediately with his reply.
OK. Let me know. xx
I switch off the vibration mode on my phone to avoid any more unwanted interruptions and throw it onto the chair in the corner of the room in frustration. Then, I slide under the covers with the unfortunate knowledge that, despite my incredible surroundings, and this being the most comfortable bed ever, it’s now going to be a sleepless night. Dave has always had the knack of getting in my head at the worst times.