Million Love Songs(104)

You’ll be pleased to know that Charlie’s still with Nice Paul and it’s all going swimmingly there. Thank goodness. There’s even tentative talk about them moving in together. I know! I do hope so as they seem very happy. I spent Christmas holed up with my parents, eating too much and watching rubbish telly, then let my hair down with Charlie and Paul at New Year. I was both melancholy and optimistic. Last year was quite the year. My annus horribilis. Well, parts of it. At midnight, as everyone was dancing and celebrating around us, I did think about ringing Joe and wishing him all the best for the coming year, but I didn’t. Probably just as well.

My social life isn’t exactly a giddy whirl, but I’m cool with that too. I mainly hang out with Charlie and Paul. They’re kind and treat me gently. We all go to Take That concerts and sundry events together and that’s the only threesome you’ll find me in these days.

‘What’s that dreamy look on your face for?’ Charlie asks as she scrapes leftover sandwich into the bin.

‘Nothing. Just thinking.’

‘Flo’s nipped out for an hour. Get that music changed over, chummie,’ she instructs. ‘Let’s have a bit of the lads to get us in the mood.’

‘For what?’

‘Life,’ Charlie says over her shoulder as she goes off to find more bread.

I change the music as instructed rather than face Charlie’s wrath and go old skool with a playlist of their greatest hits. ‘Patience’ drifts out over the café – one of my favourites.

Singing along, I take a J-cloth to wipe down the tables during a momentary lull. As I’m leaning over table two trying to eradicate a particularly sticky patch of jam that a messy toddler has smeared into every crevice, the doorbell sounds and I wonder if we’re in for another onslaught that will take us through to the lunch rush.

When I turn round, Joe and the kids are standing there.





Chapter One Hundred





The sight of Joe, in our little café, as large as life, momentarily takes my breath away. He freezes too and we both stare at each other.

My heart clearly recognises him as well as it sets up an erratic and all-too-fast beat. They’re all wrapped up against the cold, cheeks pinched to pink by the wind. Joe’s in a dark jacket and gloves, his curls hidden by a beanie hat.

If he’s even thinking about retreating, then he can’t now. He’s trapped.

‘Ruby!’ Daisy shouts and comes to hug me.

I squeeze her back. ‘You are looking fab-u-lous,’ I tell her.

‘We miss you,’ she says. ‘I want another unicorn and fairy party.’

‘That was fun, wasn’t it?’

‘The coolest! All the girls still talk about it.’ She unwraps her long stripy scarf and slides into one of the seats. ‘Mummy told us the cakes here were amazing, but we’ve never been before.’

At the mention of her mother my throat closes tightly. Perhaps she’s left her boyfriend and is back in the family home once again, in Joe’s bed. I try not to think of it.

Tom raises a hand in greeting. ‘Hey.’

‘Hi, Tom. How are you doing?’

He shrugs. ‘OK.’

‘Ever get your bike back?’

‘Nah,’ he says. ‘The case goes to court soon though.’

It seems like a lifetime ago that all that happened, but I also remember it as if it was yesterday. That was the first night that Joe and I spent together. The only one, too, as it turned out. ‘I hope it goes well.’

Then, clearly taxed by so much conversation, Tom goes back to studying his phone.

I can feel Joe’s eyes on me and, when I regain my composure, I say as calmly as I can manage, ‘Hi, Joe. This is an unexpected surprise. It’s good to see you all.’

Joe looks as if he’s struggling to find words too, but eventually comes up with, ‘I had no idea you were working here.’

‘I’ve been here a little while now,’ I tell him. ‘I left the pub ages ago.’ I risk a wry smile. ‘It’s much less … complicated … here.’

‘Ah,’ he says and I hope that means he understands that I’m no longer with Mason either.

I’d like to tell him that I ‘found’ myself in Paris – but that sounds too ridiculous for words – that I’m a different person now, that I’m happy, that I’ve stopped bouncing around like a bloody rubber ball, that I might have found out what contentment is. I have to accept, though, that he might not be the slightest bit interested in my revelation.

Pulling off his beanie hat, he stands there looking dishevelled. He tries to ruffle his hair into some kind of tidiness and fails. I’ve never seen him look more handsome.

‘Take a seat,’ I say, brightly, as they strip off their coats. I whip them away and, as I hang them up, I’m sure I can feel Joe’s eyes following me, but it could be my imagination. ‘I’ll bring some menus over.’ Which I do in my most professional manner, despite the fact that my knees are shaking. I even manage to reel off the specials with a flourish. ‘I’ll come back in a moment to take your order.’

Then I bolt into the kitchen, close the door and lean heavily against it. ‘Fuckfuckfuck.’

Charlie looks round. ‘What?’