Hating Valentine's Day Read online

  We start up again and do the one-two-three trick a few more times until I’m satisfied I’ve captured a few good shots at least. One thing I know for sure—Kirsty’s beautiful red-gold hair is going to come up a treat. The sun’s just moved through the tree perfectly, leaving some dappled light on the ground, and that combined with the green patch of grass under the tree, spotted with white clover, looks fantastic. I’m going to have to move fast, though, to get the last few shots. I glance around to my left, then to my right, and then up the tree.

  ‘Oh, no. No higher.’ Shaun sees what I’m looking at.

  I grin. ‘Just one branch.’

  ‘You’re nuts,’ Kirsty says. ‘Are you covered for this?’

  I think about this for a moment. ‘The camera is.’ Before they can argue further, I sling it around my neck, push myself up and turn carefully, clinging to the branch above. It’s then, right at the critical moment, that I see him.

  Mike…

  And Toby. On the swings.

  I stay right where I am and stare at them both.

  Mike.

  I get the exact same nauseous feeling I had yesterday in the bathroom. Now I wish I hadn’t eaten breakfast after all. I grip on even tighter to the branch in front of me and will my poached egg to stay down, watching as Mike pushes Toby higher and higher and Toby squeals with delight—the noise carrying right across the park. My eyes quickly scan the grounds, looking for a third person. But there’s no one in sight. I wonder where she is—Amanda. At work, I guess.

  I’m still watching the two of them, staring at them, when something catches my eye off to the right. A flash of something pink. I turn my head quickly, trying to see what it is and completely forget where I am (up a tree) and what I’m doing (balancing precariously), and one of my feet slides out from under me.

  ‘Shit!’

  ‘Liv!’ Kirsty yells out as I right myself and sit back down. I glance back over at Mike and Toby.

  They’re both looking over in our direction. Mike at Kirsty and Shaun and then, as they look at me, he starts to follow their gaze up the tree. But Toby—Toby’s been staring directly at me the whole time.

  I hold my breath as I watch him and wait for Mike to spot me.

  But then, with perfect timing, Toby turns back around and squeals to be pushed again. Mike’s attention returns to the swings. He hasn’t seen me.

  ‘Liv, are you OK?’ Kirsty tries again.

  I look down at her. ‘Sorry, sorry. I’m fine.’ I push myself up to the next branch and sit myself down. Work. Work. Think about work. ‘Right. Let’s go. The leaning thing again. And turn away, one, two…three and smile. That’s it. And again. One, two…three and smile. Now look at each other. Great. Perfect. And again. Once more. OK, I lied. Once more…’

  A few minutes later I decide I have all the shots I need. ‘All finished.’ I look down at them.

  ‘Good,’ Kirsty says. ‘Because I don’t think my neck is going to take much more modelling.’

  Shaun comes over to give me a hand down out of the tree. I glance at Mike again, to see if he’s watching, but he and Toby have moved over to the see-saw now, further away.

  When I’m back on solid ground, I sit on the grass with Shaun and Kirsty for a few minutes and run them through what’s going to happen on Sunday, their wedding day, one more time. Then, when we’re done, I try not to be too obvious about slinking back to the car using the happy couple as a shield against Mike and Toby. After I’ve waved them off, and put all my equipment in the boot, I get in the car, wriggle down in my seat and stare a bit longer at the guys I used to call the ‘terrible twosome’. As I watch, I wonder again where Amanda is, and the whole time I ache, ache, ache to go over and see Toby, who’s got so big I can hardly believe my eyes…

  But Mike. Mike I’m not so sure about.

  And then, a few minutes later, I become sure. I tear my eyes away, start the car and speed off in a cloud of dust before I can change my mind.

  Y Y Y Y

  I pull my car into its spot at the studio and Sally comes rushing out through the front door to greet me. ‘And about time too,’ she says, hands on hips, as I open the car door and swing my legs out.

  ‘What? What have I done? Am I late for something?’ I freeze, knowing I don’t have any appointments down in my diary, but with a sudden fear that I forgot to write one down.

  ‘I’m desperate for a fag. Desperate.’

  ‘Oh, is that all?’ I breathe a sigh of relief and reach behind me onto the passenger seat for my handbag.

  ‘Is that all?’ she says loudly.

  ‘Yes—is that all?’ I look up again. ‘Why don’t you steal one from your stash in the car if you need one so badly?’ I realise as the words come out of my mouth they’re too harsh. Sally’s just being her usual over-the-top self.

  ‘The car’s at the garage. What’s up, buttercup?’

  As I open the door and get out I sigh one of those big fatalistic Russian novel ‘life’s shit and then you die’ sighs. ‘I just saw Mike and Toby. In the park across the road from my old apartment.’

  ‘Oh, dear. Now I get it.’ Sally closes the car door and then leans up against it. ‘And Ms Indecisive?’

  ‘No, she wasn’t around.’

  ‘Did you talk to him?’

  ‘No.’ I shake my head.

  ‘Did he see you?’

  I shake my head again. ‘I don’t think so. I guess I just thought it was better if I didn’t go over…’

  Sally nods.

  There’s a long silence.

  I bite my lip. ‘You think I should have gone over?’

  She looks up the street, away from me, for a second. ‘No, I think you were right,’ she says slowly. ‘Sometimes it’s better not to know. There’s no point forcing yourself when you don’t want to, is there?’

  I shake my head, realising Sally’s right. I didn’t want to go over, and, as much as I wanted to see Toby, I know that at this point in time I still can’t face talking to Mike in one of those jolly five-minute supermarket ‘I didn’t expect to see you here’ encounters. I smile a small smile, knowing that for once I’ve done the right thing by myself. ‘You’re so wise, Yoda.’

  She laughs. ‘It’s called learning by experience. And if there’s one thing I have it’s relationship experience.’ There’s a pause. ‘So, um, are you going to be all right?’

  ‘Haven’t I been for the past two years?’

  ‘Um…’

  ‘Oh, shut up.’

  ‘OK!’ Sally looks like this is a good idea. ‘About those fags, then…’

  I cave and pick my handbag up off the ground, fishing around inside for the packet. I open it up to see there are two left. ‘Here.’ I pass the packet over to her. ‘Knock yourself out.’

  ‘Two! All my Christmases have come at once!’

  It doesn’t take Sally long to light up—about three seconds, actually. Then she takes a very long drag, closing her eyes, and, finally, exhales. ‘Oh, boy. That’s better.’ Her eyes flick open then. ‘Bugger.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There’s someone inside. Waiting for you. I totally forgot.’

  ‘For me?’ My mind works through my appointments again. There shouldn’t be anyone here for me.

  ‘Andrew? No—Drew. That’s it.’ Her eyebrows rise. ‘A bit dishy too. Where’d you find him?’

  Oh. Drew. I’d forgotten about our appointment. ‘Um, Justine found him.’

  ‘That’d be right. The competition. I should have known.’ She nods her head in the direction of the studio. ‘I set him up with some albums to look at. He’s only been here ten minutes or so.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, heading inside. Through the window Drew sees me coming and stands up.

  ‘Hi,’ I say as I open the front door and then let it close behind me. Immediately the air-conditioning hits my face. ‘Oh, that’s beautiful.’ I drop my bag to the floor. ‘Much better.’

  ‘I know.’ Drew comes over. ‘If I worked here, I’d never
go home in summer.’

  ‘You’d take that back fast enough if you worked with Her Highness.’ I look out at Sally, who’s watching us. She waves at us encouragingly, like we’re two shy sixteen-year-olds on a first date.

  Drew and I look at each other and laugh.

  ‘Sorry if my timing’s bad,’ he says then. ‘Do you want me to go?’

  ‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘Of course not. It’s fine.’ I motion towards the lounge area. ‘Come and sit back down and we’ll have a chat about the packages we offer.’

  Just as we’re getting settled, the door opens and Sally comes back into the office.

  Drew stands up again.

  ‘Oh!’ She stops halfway across the room and stares at him. ‘A gentleman! I declare, I do so like a gentleman.’ She does her best Scarlett O’Hara fluttering of the eyelashes impersonation and I wonder if I should offer her a mint julep.

  ‘Sally…’ I start, giving her a warning look, then stand up as well. ‘Have you met properly? Um, Drew, this is Sally Bliss, my boss. Sally, this is Drew Thomas, a friend of Justine’s. He’s probably told you, he’s best-manning for a friend and wants me to take him through a few packages.’

  ‘Nice to meet you properly, Drew.’ Sally comes over to shake his hand. She heads off for her computer then, passing me and giving me a look that says, quite blatantly, ‘Husband number four, do you think?’. I give her a look back and a quick ‘keep your claws out of him you hussy’ shake of the head. Drew’s too nice—she’d eat him alive and line up his friends for dessert.

  ‘OK.’ Sally out of the way, I sit back down again and Drew follows suit. ‘You’ve had a look through the albums?’

  Drew nods. ‘Yeah, they’re great. I think they’d really like this sort of thing.’ He points to one of the more informal albums, which he then picks up and starts flicking through one more time.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Sally get up again. She starts to saunter over towards the kitchen. ‘Coffee, Drew? Liv?’

  ‘No thanks, Sally,’ Drew says, looking up from the album.

  ‘Not for me.’ I watch as Sally minces her way across the room, showing off her behind to best effect. She just can’t help herself. Thankfully, Drew’s attention is focused back on the album. But right when I’m about to turn my eyes heavenwards at her strutting, Sally turns and gives me a quick ‘are you going to be OK, kiddo?’ glance. I nod, knowing she’s referring to me seeing Mike before. She may have a better butt than I’ll ever have, twelve years down what should be the sag track, but I can’t hate her for it—I don’t know where I’d be without her.

  I get up and locate another album and take it over, sitting beside Drew this time. We flick through together and I explain what the packages do and don’t include, and finally walk him through our pricing system. ‘Of course I’ll cut you a bit of a better deal than that,’ I add.

  ‘Will you just?’ Sally calls out from the kitchen.

  ‘Yes!’ I say to the wall.

  When I turn back, Drew has a worried expression on his face. He stands up and starts for the kitchen. ‘No, it’s OK. I didn’t mean…’

  Sally pops her head around the corner. ‘I was only kidding.’

  I stand up as well. ‘She’s always kidding,’ I say to Drew with a roll of my eyes.

  He looks from one of us to the other.

  ‘You’re confusing him, poor boy.’ Sally shakes her head at me before she disappears again.

  ‘I’m confusing him!’

  ‘No, I…’ Drew starts, his head still moving from one side to the other, Wimbledon fashion.

  ‘It’s all right.’ I laugh at his now truly confused state. I take the costing papers I’ve given him from his hand and put them together with the ones he’s left on the table. Then I grab one of our clear plastic advertising folders and pack everything inside it. ‘She really is joking. We’ll be able to do anything from ten to fifteen per cent off, depending on the package they choose. Don’t worry about it. It’s less than she tips her Ferrari’s mechanic.’

  Sally pops her head around the wall for the second time. ‘I have to tip him to keep him on side. A girl needs a good servicing from time to time, you know.’

  ‘Sally!’

  ‘What?’ She tries to look innocent, but isn’t all that successful at pulling the expression off, her facial muscles being unfamiliar with the position. ‘Fine.’ She disappears again. ‘There’s just no good conversation to be had these days.’

  I turn to Drew. ‘If double entendres about her car’s servicing is good conversation, civilisation as we know it is in trouble.’

  He laughs and looks at his watch. ‘Have you got time for some lunch?’

  ‘Yes, she does.’ Sally comes back into the room for good this time, with a mug of her favourite strawberry and mango tea. So that’s what she’s been up to in there.

  Before I say yes, I think about my schedule. I’ve got an engagement shoot this afternoon, but not until four-thirty. Frankly, a distraction sounds like a good idea. It might help me to stop thinking about Mike. And about the other thing that I’m not supposed to be thinking about at all, but somehow keeps popping into my head at the oddest times—Mrs Batty-Smith. ‘OK. That’d be nice.’

  Drew turns to Sally. ‘Lunch?’

  She shakes her head. ‘Thanks, but I can’t. Stacks of work.’

  ‘Want me to bring you something back?’ I ask her.

  ‘No, I’ll be right. I’ve got some red curry leftovers in the fridge from last night.’

  ‘OK, then.’ I shuffle Drew out towards the door. ‘I’ll be back in an hour or so.’

  ‘Take your time!’ Sally sings out, and gives me a wink that makes me herd Drew out through the door even faster. You just can’t let a single guy in that studio, I think as I close the door firmly behind us. It’s like lambs to the slaughter.

  Y Y Y Y

  As Drew and I start off down the road, he asks me if I know anywhere good to eat and I suggest the nearby café Sally and I usually go to. We chat as we stroll down towards the row of shops. On entering, I spot the specials board and notice the baked berry cheesecake that Sally and I shared on our last trip is on again.

  There’s just something about baked berry cheesecake…

  We decide to take a seat inside in the air-conditioning as the day’s another scorcher. ‘Turkey, cranberry, avocado and camembert focaccia for me, I think,’ Drew says, looking at the menu. ‘And a mineral water. A large one.’

  Perusing the menu myself, I decide to up my food intake quota a tad more now my stomach is feeling fine again. ‘I’ll have the Vietnamese prawn rolls. And an orange juice.’

  When we’ve ordered, we both sit back in our chairs.

  ‘So,’ Drew says, looking straight at me.

  ‘So,’ I say back.

  He leans forward then, arms resting on the table. And suddenly I don’t quite know where to look.

  ‘You know, I can’t believe you and Justine live together.’

  ‘Why? Lots of people have flatmates.’

  Drew shakes his head. ‘Let me rephrase that. I can’t believe you and Justine live together and haven’t killed each other yet.’

  ‘Ah. Well, I have to admit we have our The Odd Couple moments.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I give him a strange look.

  ‘Sorry!’ Drew says. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it. I’ve just been thinking about it the last couple of days, that’s all.’

  There’s a pause in the conversation as the waiter delivers our drinks, taking them off the tray one at a time to set them in front of us. Watching him, I wonder absent-mindedly why Drew’s been thinking about Justine and me, and just what he’s been thinking about.

  ‘So, how’s work going?’ he asks when the waiter leaves, changing the topic. ‘Busy today? You mentioned you had something on this afternoon…’

  I forget about Justine then, and fill Drew in on what’s going on in my work life.
I’m telling him all about the absolutely hideous wedding I’m shooting first thing Saturday when our meals come. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,’ I say with a wave of my hand as the waiter places our meals before us. ‘It must be boring. I’m surprised you haven’t fallen asleep over there.’

  Drew shakes his head. ‘No, it’s interesting. It certainly sounds more exciting than my line of work at times.’

  I ask Drew about his architecture then, questioning him about what kind of area he hopes to end up in.

  He puts his focaccia down when I ask this, and wipes his hands on his napkin. ‘I want to specialise in designing museums.’

  I watch him, noting how his eyes light up as he starts to speak about it. ‘A worthy cause,’ I say.

  Drew nods, and we chat about it for a while longer, until he turns the subject back to me again.

  ‘And you’re going to set up on your own next year, Justine says?’

  I nod as well.

  Drew asks some more about this, and I relax and tell him what he wants to know as we devour our meals and finish off our drinks. But after a while, as Drew talks, I remember what he said before—that he’d been thinking about Justine and my differences over the last couple of days—and my curiosity gets the better of me. I hesitate for a moment, wondering whether I should bring it up again.

  ‘It’s OK. You can tell me,’ he says. ‘Do I have a big piece of avocado in my teeth or something?’

  I laugh. ‘No, I was just wondering about what you said before—that you’d been thinking about Justine and my differences. What did you mean?’

  ‘Nothing.’ He waves one hand. ‘Really, I didn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘Too late! You’ve got to tell me now.’

  Drew takes his time finishing off his mineral water. ‘Well…’ He looks cagey.

  ‘Come on. You can’t start to say something like that then back out. I hate it when people do that!’

  ‘All right.’ But then he stops. ‘I guess…I don’t know. It’s just that you know what Justine’s like…’

  ‘What’s she like?’

  Drew stops, looks at the ceiling, then back down at the table, frowning. ‘This is going to sound weird, but she’s rather like one of those tiny super-bouncy rubber balls bounced too hard in a squash court.’