Just Haven't Met You Yet(88)

Jasper whispers in my ear, “You look gorgeous by the way.”

“Good afternoon to all you romantics out there.” Suki beams to the camera. “Now, our regular viewers will be used to hearing Laura Le Quesne’s voice hosting these interviews—she’s tracked down some of the most romantic meet-cutes out there. But today’s live broadcast is a little different—because this time, Laura finds herself on the other side of the camera. Laura, Jasper, tell us”—Suki leaves a dramatic pause—“how did you meet?”

Before I can speak, Jasper jumps in.

“Well, it all started when our eyes met across a crowded concourse at Gatwick Airport. I saw this beautiful creature, and I just knew.”

I frown, then try to stop frowning, aware of the camera picking up every expression I make. Jasper’s not telling it right. The whole reason it’s a great story is because I found the suitcase first, that the contents led me to him, not that our “eyes met across a crowded concourse.”

“Of course, being British, I didn’t know how to ask her out at the time, but destiny wasn’t going to let my reserve get the better of us.” Jasper shoots a smoldering look to the camera and smooths down his T-shirt to make sure the lettering of his website is fully visible.

“Right, yes, but really the story began when I picked up the wrong suitcase at the airport,” I say, attempting to get the narrative back on track. “I only realized it wasn’t mine when I got to my hotel room. At first, I was annoyed I didn’t have my case. But then I found all these things in the bag, these possessions that spoke to me. I thought it had to be a sign.”

Why did I agree to this? I thought it was going to be a few photos; speaking to a camera feels like much more of a commitment.

“What was in the Travella case, Laura?” asks Suki, wide-eyed, willing me to keep performing.

“Well, there was a book of piano music—Phil Collins, I’ve always loved Phil—and—”

Jasper starts singing “In the Air Tonight.” Out of frame, Suki flaps her hands at him angrily but says lightly, “Ha-ha, I don’t think we have clearance for song lyrics, Jasper. What else was in the case, Laura, tell us about the Colton Rouge?”

Saul is making a face at me from behind the camera, as though he’s watching his favorite cashmere jumper get tumble-dried. Dionne is leaning against the wall, watching Jasper as though he’s a box full of newborn puppies.

“Oh right.” My heart sinks down into a puddle inside of me, where it finds my soul squatting like a miserably deflated balloon animal. “I just love the smell of Colton Rouge, and I knew any man who had such great taste in toiletries had to be the man for me.”

Now I sound like a complete wally. Who goes for a guy based on their discerning taste in fragrances? Then I remember my checklist, all the things I thought were so important, like being well dressed, musical, having the same tastes as me. Jasper gives my arm a squeeze, as though he senses I’ve lost enthusiasm for the sales pitch and is nudging me to keep the energy up.

“I’ve also got great socks,” cuts in Jasper with a click of his fingers.

Suki is shooting daggers at me, probably because I’ve stopped smiling.

My hands ball into fists, a bead of sweat trickles down my back, my breathing grows shallow. All these years I’ve defended my job, focused on the positive elements and ignored the parts that made me uncomfortable. Suki says we’re all one big happy family, but now I see her scowling across at me, I know she doesn’t have a single motherly feeling toward me. Any loyalty I felt going through with this shoot for her sake was entirely misplaced.

To keep my hands still, I thrust them into the pockets of my trousers. My fingers find the blue sea glass, the mermaid’s tear Ted gave me on the beach. I rub the surface of the stone between my fingers.

“The moment Laura and I met to exchange our bags, right here, in this gorgeous Contessa Kitchen, with all these bespoke fixtures and fittings, I saw straightaway how much we had in common.” Jasper grins at me.

He really is lovely, and sweet and incredibly good-looking, in a Christian Bale, Ken doll sort of way.

But he is not Ted.

And “I like you” from Ted is enough.

Never mind the fact that Ted can’t promise me anything beyond today. I’d rather have one day with him, even if it leads nowhere, than spend my time with anyone else. And maybe I’ll lose my job, and I have no idea what to do next, but as the proverbial Gerry said—maybe that’s OK.

Suki coughs.

“What have you got there, Laura, what are you fiddling with?” Suki says in a trying-not-to-sound-furious-because-we’re-live-but-clearly-bloody-furious voice.

Everything is suddenly so clear to me, but how am I going to get out of this without hurting Jasper? He has gone along with all this; I cannot walk out or admit my doubts live on air. If anyone is going to be embarrassed here, it should be me, not him. So, I say the one thing I know will kill the interview dead, that will make Suki cut the live feed immediately.

“I’m sorry, I can’t in good conscience go along with this deceit. It isn’t true, it isn’t real,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Neither of us had Travella bags—they were John Lewis’s own label.”





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