Million Love Songs(84)

‘There’s something else too.’

When I hesitate, he says, ‘I’m all ears.’

I guess there’s no point beating about the bush. ‘Joe, the bloke I was seeing? Well, it’s more serious now. Sort of,’ I tell him, frankly, and am surprised to see his face fall.

‘Since when?’

‘For a little while now. On and off. It’s complicated.’

‘Ah, that old chestnut.’

I decide to be honest with him. ‘I really like you, Mason. Sometimes I like you a lot. I simply don’t have the energy for all your sexual hijinks. I’m too old for it. Swinging from the chandeliers is all very well for a short time. You’re young and full of fun, which is lovely, and I thought it was what I needed to get over my broken heart. But it’s not. I’m looking to settle down and I might have a good chance with this man.’

Mason doesn’t look that impressed by my candid assessment of the situation. ‘So, who is he?’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ I say. ‘You don’t know him.’

‘You love him?’

‘I think so.’ This is the first time that I’ve admitted it to myself. But I might do. I might just love Joe.

Mason blows out an unhappy breath. ‘God, Brown. I thought you and I were going to get it on.’

I never know with Mason whether he’s joking or not. I decide to play it as if he’s not. ‘I need someone to rely on,’ I tell him, sincerely, even though I probably don’t owe him this level of openness. ‘There are some nights that I just want to be held.’

‘I can do that,’ Mason says earnestly and, for a moment, I believe that he really means it. There’s a catch in his voice when he adds, ‘I can be that person. Give me a chance.’

I shake my head as I pick up my bag. ‘We’ve had fun together, Mason. That’s all it was, though. I thought I could do that, but I can’t. When it comes down to it, I’m not in love with you and you’re not in love with me.’

‘I could be,’ he says.

‘I don’t think so.’ I push open the door to the bar.

‘Don’t go now! I’m baring my soul to you. Don’t walk out on me, Brown,’ he says. ‘Let’s talk about it. Let me hold you, for fuck’s sake!’

Smiling, I head for the door. ‘Nice try, Mason. But it will never work for us.’

So I go home, drink two big glasses of wine and lie down in bed next to cardboard cut-out Gary Barlow and cry myself to sleep.





Chapter Seventy-Six





I don’t hear from Joe. All week. Not a sausage.

Monday – nothing

Tuesday – nothing. Though I fully expected a call.

Wednesday – still nothing. I could call him, but I’m not going to. It’s a point of principle. He should have called me. Preferably as soon as Gina left. Isn’t that the done thing?

Thursday – more nothing. Despite chanting all day ‘He will ring’ – a mantra that I read in a clearly flipping useless self-help book.

Friday – even more nothing. You’d have thought, at least, he could have phoned me to let me know how Tom was getting on after all I did for him. Bastard.

Saturday – acres and acres of bloody nothing. He’s not a bastard. I really like him. I might love him.

Sunday – nothing. I have a good cry. A properly good cry.

That’s it. I’m done with men. No more Mason. No more Joe. Like Charlie, it’s only Gary Barlow from now on.





Chapter Seventy-Seven





If Joe doesn’t call by tomorrow, I’m going to ring him. Something might be horribly wrong.





Chapter Seventy-Eight





Joe calls me. My heart soars. I try not to run round the living room doing a happy dance when he does. Instead, I say, ‘Hi,’ too brightly as if he’s some kind of long-lost friend rather than a boyfriend who hasn’t phoned when he maybe should have.

‘I’m sorry I’ve not been in touch,’ he says and he sounds so weary that I want to rush to him and give him the biggest hug there is.

‘Are you OK?’

Long pause. ‘I’ve had a lot going on.’

When there’s nothing more forthcoming, I try to stay upbeat and ask, ‘How’s Tom doing? Recovering from his ordeal?’

‘Getting there,’ Joe says.

‘That’s good to hear. Give him and Daisy my love.’

‘Can we meet up for a coffee tomorrow?’ It’s clear that he doesn’t want small talk today. ‘If you’re free.’

‘I start work at twelve, but I could do ten-ish.’

‘I’ll be working, but do you want to come up to the café at Sunshine Meadows?’

‘Yeah, that’s fine.’ It means it will be a bit of a snatched meeting, but that’s better than nothing. ‘Look forward to it.’

‘See you tomorrow, Ruby.’

When he hangs up, I do run round the living room doing a happy dance.





Chapter Seventy-Nine





I fly up to Sunshine Meadows with wings on my feet. Well, I drive, in my clapped-out Mazda, but that doesn’t sound nearly as wonderful. It’s a glorious day. The sort of day that we should all stop what we’re doing and head to the beach. The sort of day where we should eat fish and chips and ice-cream and drink Pinot Grigio by the pint. Perhaps Joe and I can take the kids somewhere by the coast one weekend before the summer is over. It would be nice to get away for a few days together if we can. Finances are tight for both of us, but a couple of nights in a basic B&B shouldn’t break the bank. It’s a long time since I’ve felt sand in my toes and I can just visualise long romantic walks on the shore, hand-in-hand with Joe.