‘Hi.’ He was doing a very attractive lopsided smile, one eyebrow raised combo. An ‘I’m pleased to see you but a little surprised’ look. She should say something instead of standing here smiling foolishly at him.
‘So, I was wondering—’ she’d never actually asked anyone out before ‘—would you like to go out this evening? If you’re free? I mean I know it’s the Saturday before Christmas so you’re probably busy.’ She was actually busy herself this evening, but she’d cancel. This was more important. But maybe Sam had plans he couldn’t cancel. ‘Or tomorrow evening? I mean any time you’re free? I owe you for the bacon. And, also, it would be nice to go out? If you’re free?’ Okay, she was sounding ridiculously desperate. But this was important. And when you were asking The One out, who cared about sounding desperate. They’d laugh about this when they were in their eighties and reminiscing. Izzy suddenly had an image of herself in a wedding dress and Sam in a suit in a gorgeous country church. Maybe in a couple of years’ time. Maybe a winter wedding.
‘Izzy, thank you so much but I’m afraid I can’t. I’m getting married today.’ Sam’s dark eyes were serious, looking into hers. Izzy sensed him move his hands towards hers and then drop them back to his sides.
She couldn’t speak. She was stunned. This was just awful. She couldn’t work out what was worse, the mortification or the misery. How could she have been stupid enough to read the signs so badly that she’d asked someone out on their wedding day? And also, he was her One. Except he obviously wasn’t. He was getting married to someone else. Today. He loved someone else. It was actually really hard to process the information. It was so wrong. She took a deep breath and wrinkled her face, trying to get her mouth to work and form some words.
‘It’s my wedding day.’ He said it very gently. ‘The wedding’s this afternoon. I was having a pre-wedding, calm-the-nerves, greasy spoon breakfast moment to myself. You know.’
Izzy nodded. She didn’t know. But she could imagine. Ish.
‘Congratulations.’ It was surprising that she was managing to work her voice now. ‘I hope it goes really well. Nice weather for it. No rain forecast.’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
‘Okay. Well.’ Weirdly, she didn’t want to end the conversation, even though it was truly gut-wrenching and embarrassing. She didn’t want to break the contact. But obviously she should. She shivered, suddenly aware that it was really bloody freezing and she had no coat on, just her tiny elf costume. ‘Congratulations again.’
‘Thank you.’ He was looking at her like he knew what a terrible moment this was. Tears were pushing hard against her eyelids. She needed to walk away right now.
She nodded and, with a big effort, turned round and started to re-trace her steps back to the café. This was so bad. So wrong. So awful. In the same way that she’d known that he was The One, she knew it was going to take far longer than it should do to recover from this. And not just the humiliation. Which was ridiculous. She’d ‘known’ him for the length of time it took to be served and eat a large breakfast at normal speed and walk the length of an averagely long road. She knew no actual facts about him other than his name. But she honestly felt truly bereft.
Terry was yelling and gesticulating at her from the door of the café. Izzy bent down and picked up her elf hat from the pavement. It must have fallen off as she ran. She plonked it back on her head and carried on trudging towards Terry.
Two
Izzy
Eleven months later
Izzy looked at her watch. Yep, just about time to grab a Pret sandwich before her first afternoon appointment. The last one had run on beyond its scheduled finish time but when you were helping someone with a stammer, hurrying them was obviously not the way forward. Wow, the temperature had dropped since this morning. She wrapped her scarf more tightly, huddled into her coat and pulled her gloves out. And then stopped dead in the middle of the pavement and dropped the gloves. Someone behind her bumped into her and she apologised on autopilot.
Sam, actual Sam, was walking up the steps into Chelsea Old Town Hall maybe fifteen feet in front of her. So close to her. She’d be able to cover the distance between them in seconds. It was definitely him. She’d thought about him so much, fantasised, compared – negatively – every man she’d met since then to him. She’d imagined several times over the past few months that she’d seen him in the flesh, but it had never actually been him. But this time it was. No question. He was dressed a lot more smartly than he had been for his wedding day greasy spoon breakfast: charcoal grey overcoat, suit and tie, smart shoes. Presumably his working uniform. She wondered what job he did.
Izzy’s heart was going unbelievably fast, thundering in her ears, and her scarf was suddenly scratching her neck and making her feel claustrophobic. She’d been imagining this moment for so long. She should do something. Say something. Go and speak to him.
No. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t.
He obviously hadn’t been fantasising about her, measuring every other woman, unfavourably, against her, wondering about her for eleven months. He was married. Probably very happily. He probably didn’t even remember her. Actually, he might do. It probably wasn’t normal for a girl you didn’t know to ask you out on your wedding day. But he certainly wouldn’t have remembered Izzy’s name, or thought about her again.
Yup, she should just walk on past. He was nearly at the top of the steps now, about to go through the double doors at the top.
And then he turned round. And looked right at her. Properly at her. They locked eyes for a second or two. Sam hesitated for a fraction of a moment. Izzy was sure that he recognised her. And then he dropped his eyes, turned his back on her, pushed open one of the doors and took a step forward.
And he was gone. Just like that. Either he hadn’t recognised her, or he had and he had no interest in talking to her. Well, of course he hadn’t. They didn’t know each other and he was married. Izzy was, frankly, a complete loser to have been hung up on him, on an idea, for nearly a year.
Okay. This was it. She needed to move on. It was beyond sad to have been thinking for so long about someone she didn’t even know. It was worse if that person was married and utterly, utterly off limits. And even worse if thinking about him prevented her from living her own life properly. She needed to become a new woman. A new woman who dated properly, fell in love, lived her life.
Izzy took one step inside the club and immediately wanted to turn right back round and walk out again. It was your classic sticky-floor, sweat-dripping-off-the-ceiling, dive venue. Total meat market. It looked like everyone was already pairing up with strangers, and it was barely 10 p.m. She could murder a good night’s sleep. If she left now, she could get the bus and wouldn’t even have to fork out for a taxi.
‘Remember—’ her best friend Emma spoke very firmly into her ear ‘—you’re a new woman. Goodbye Sam, hello the rest of your life.’
Izzy sighed and then nodded. Emma was right. As of this lunchtime outside the town hall, she was a new woman.