‘Hi! How was your trip?’ I aim for bright and breezy. Do I care that you chose to go to my favourite place with someone else instead? Of course I don’t!
‘Yeah. Good.’ He nods. ‘I’ll show you the photos. Great city, New York.’
The mention of photos – no doubt of a happy, smiling stick insect - twangs at my heartstrings.
‘Yeah,’ he adds, a little awkwardly. ‘It was a very…productive trip.’
‘Well, that’s great.’ Productive? Strange word to use. I was bracing myself for ‘amazing’, ‘incredible’ or worst of all, ‘so romantic’. And I do not want to see the photos, thank you very much! If it looks like he’s getting his phone out, I’ll invent a sudden allergic reaction to sultana scones or something…
‘Your hair’s different again. It’s nice.’
‘Oh. Thanks.’ I pat my shining new locks, remembering that fateful hair appointment. Coming out and seeing Jo getting into Jack’s taxi.
Why is it everything seems to remind me I’ve lost the best man I’ve ever known? And all because of my own stupid insecurities…
There’s a brief silence, then we both start talking at once.
‘What can I get you? Coffee? Danish pastry?’
‘I…wish you’d been there.’
I freeze, staring at him. Did he just say…or was I imagining it? Say it again! Don’t make me ask you to repeat it!
He gives a sheepish shrug and looks down at the counter. ‘I miss you, Maddy. There, I’ve said it.’
‘Well…I miss you, too.’ My voice sounds croaky.
He looks up and then I’m drowning in his gorgeous amber eyes, and my heart is turning joyful, ecstatic somersaults.
‘But…’ He shrugs helplessly, his eyes sliding away, and my heart hits the ground.
One tiny word, but powerful enough to crush my hopes and dreams to dust all over again.
‘But what?’ I sound like I’m desperate but I don’t care. I’m past pretending. ‘If we care about each other, we should be together, shouldn’t we? I’ve changed, Jack. I won’t be so careless about us next time. You have to believe me.’
He gazes at me and I can see he’s wavering.
‘You have to trust me. It’ll be so different next time. I’ll be…everything you want me to be. Absolutely everything!’ I’m really sounding desperate now, but I don’t care.
Tears prick my eyes as we gaze at each other. ‘You have to believe me.’
His lips twist into a sad smile. ‘I wish I could. I really wish I could.’
I stare at him as the lump in my throat swells to epic proportions. How I’m holding myself together, I just don’t know. I smile forlornly. ‘Perhaps a slice of lemon drizzle will change your mind?’
His mouth lifts at one corner. ‘Not hungry. Just a coffee, please.’
‘I’ll bring it over.’
As it turns out, I’m tied up in the kitchen breaking down in tears, so Carrie has to take him his latte. And by the time I’ve washed my face and reapplied my mascara, he’s gone…
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I drift through the following few days in a daze.
I can’t seem to get my head around Jack coming into the café and telling me he misses me but then point blank refusing to give our relationship another try. I know I hurt him, and reminded him horribly of Lucy with my careless behaviour towards him, but can’t he see that I’m not the same insecure girl any more? (Well, I am. It’s just I’m wise enough now to know that if you love someone, you have to be honest and open with them.)
I think the final straw was him finding Jake and me in a clinch. Just like when he pitched up at Lucy’s flat and discovered her in bed with his best friend, Tom…
Bumping into Katja on the high street the day after does nothing to improve my mood. I tell her I’ve finally spoken to Mum and Dad about Marcus, and she seems pleased, but then I go and ruin it all by telling her I’ve decided to go and live in London with Marcus.
She stares at me as if I’ve just told her the earth will explode in three seconds.
‘Have you lost your mind?’ she gasps. ‘You barely know him, Maddy. You can’t up and go, just like that.’
‘Yes, I can.’
She shakes her head slowly, in despair, and I feel like I’m standing in front of the teacher, getting a telling off.
‘Well, whatever,’ she says at last. ‘It’s your life, Madison.’
Her use of my full first name provokes a deep twinge of sadness. I’m definitely not forgiven, then.
‘Do you still want Marcus to sing at the charity do?’ I ask defensively.
‘Definitely. Is he on for it?’
I nod. ‘Oh, and by the way, I’ve decided to do a sponsored dog snorkel in aid of Fen’s new van. I’ve got some sponsors but I could do with some more.’
‘Great. The more we can raise, the better. I’ll get the customers in the café on board. Have you got the sponsorship form?’
I delve in my bag and give it to her.
She frowns. ‘What did you say you’re doing? A sponsored dog snorkel?’
‘Yes. Apparently, it’s great fun. Dog snorkelling.’
She laughs. ‘Don’t you mean bog snorkelling? Where they dress up in funny costumes and swim the length of a muddy water channel?’
‘What?’ I stare at her in horror, my life flashing before me. ‘I can’t do that!’
She gives a tight little smile. ‘Well, it looks like you’ll have to now.’ She taps the form. ‘You’ve already got sponsors on here.’
‘Bog snorkelling?’ I murmur, wondering how I’m going to get out of doing it. ‘Is Marcus having a laugh? I’ll get my hair wet.’
‘Right. I’d better be going.’
‘Okay. Well, see you…’ I stare after her miserably as she walks away.
She turns with a curious grin. ‘Maddy?’
‘Yes?’ I gasp eagerly, like a puppy anticipating a treat.
‘What on earth did you think dog snorkelling was?’
I shrug. ‘Dunno. Pooches wearing little snorkels and doing doggy paddle in the duck pond?’
She laughs and shakes her head. And when she walks away, she’s still chuckling.
Oh, well, I think to myself, at least I made her laugh…
*****
I’m so down about everything that when I arrive for work on Friday morning, I’m taken aback when Carrie asks if I’ve got a costume for the ‘dog snorkelling’ event the next day.
‘Oh, my God. It’s Saturday tomorrow?’ I stare at her, trying to work out how I could have got the days wrong. ‘But I haven’t even thought about costumes. I was going to try and make some, but…’
And just then, my mobile rings – and of course, it’s Marcus!
‘Hi! I was just talking to Carrie about the costumes.’ I grimace at her and she makes a face back.
‘Don’t say we haven’t got anything to wear?’ He sounds dismayed. ‘I was counting on you, Maddy. It’s always the whackiest costumes that get photographed for the newspaper.’