A Funny Thing About Love (37 page)

‘More Barolo, anyone?' was Carmen's reply, as Will winked at her.

The meal got underway with plenty of laughter, then Sadie said she had an announcement to make. There was an expectant hush.
Please, please, please don't say that you're going to marry him
, Carmen thought. Cohabiting with Dom was surely punishment enough, and she had never expected that Dom would last this long. Maybe there were hidden depths to his shallowness? Maybe he had actually paid for something?

‘I no longer have to recite the shipping forecast in bed,' Sadie declared.

‘Damn!' Marcus exclaimed. ‘I've been dining out on that for ages, it's been comedy gold. You'll have to give me something else, Dom. Surely you've another sexual peccadillo you could share with me?'

Anyone else might have been offended by Marcus taking the piss out of their bedtime activities, but Dom was so thick-skinned and so in awe of Marcus, as a successful comedian at the top of his game, while he languished somewhere in the foothills, that he took it all in his stride. ‘I'm afraid not, Marcus,' and his tone was apologetic. ‘But there is a chance that Sadie might land a role in
Holby City
as a nurse.'

‘Really?' Will had perked up at this. ‘Sadie, with that voice you'll give all the male patients heart attacks. It'll be carnage on the ward!'

‘I predict a whole new role-play for you two,' Marcus said drily. ‘But alas, it's not as good as the shipping
forecast; the whole nurse–patient dynamic is very well-charted territory. You know the sort of thing: Nurse, “It's only a little prick.” Patient, “That's what my wife says!” Boom boom! It just doesn't work for me in the same way, I'm not that kind of comedian.'

Now Dom visibly wilted as he took on board the bitter knowledge that there is only one thing worse than being talked about by a celebrity, and that is not being talked about by one. ‘Perhaps we could have a monthly shipping forecast?' he said, looking at Sadie hopefully.

She shook her head and snapped a breadstick for emphasis. At last, Sadie seemed to be learning to say no.

‘D'you remember when we came here for
my
birthday?' Will said quietly while Sadie and Dom chatted to Marcus.

‘Of course I remember – Dirty Sam nearly dropped his trousers, it quite put me off my tiramisu.'

Will shook his head. ‘I was going to say that I remember looking at you across the table and thinking I wanted you so much, and that when we kissed it was one of the best kisses of my life. But I knew then that you were holding something back from me and you still are, aren't you?'

Not this, not now. Carmen shrugged. ‘I don't know what you mean.'

Will was prevented from pressing his case further as suddenly the lights were dimmed and Mamma Mia's twelve-year-old grandson, dressed in a smart black
suit, with a severe side parting, marched proudly into the restaurant playing ‘Happy Birthday' on his accordion. Marcus glared at Carmen, who in turn pretended to be captivated by the little boy's performance. She was never more grateful for the distraction. Then Mamma Mia strode triumphantly into the room bearing the cake in her arms as it blazed with sparklers. ‘Happy Birthday to you!' her voice boomed out as she indicated to the diners that they should join in. Everyone present knew that Mamma Mia was not to be trifled with if they wanted to dine there again and gave it their best shot.

Marcus had a fixed smile on his face and a glazed look in his eyes as he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, ‘I'll pay you back for this, Carmen, maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but one day in the future.'

As the cake drew nearer he stared at it in appalled fascination. ‘Why's Dale Winton on my cake?'

‘It's not Dale Winton, it's supposed to be you.' She and Marcus were getting very good at this talking-out-of-the-side-of-their-mouths.

‘Shoot me now.'

‘Happy Birthday, dear Marcus!' Mamma Mia had reached her destination. The cake looked like a fire hazard and the sparklers were beginning to melt the gold icing, causing the face to take on a most macabre appearance, as first one eye disintegrated then the mouth. Marcus flashed his best always-look-on-the-bright-side-of-life smile at Mamma Mia. ‘Thank you, Carla, this is spectacular.'

‘I'm so glad you like it!' Mamma Mia swooped down on him and plastered him with kisses.

‘And now we must toast Marcus with Strega!' she declared.

‘The night just gets better!' Marcus replied, visibly wilting under the Mamma Mia experience. Carmen bet he didn't get this treatment in the Four Seasons. ‘I know Carmen has been looking forward to the Strega all night, make sure you pour her an extra large measure.'

Somehow they all managed to finish their glasses of the liqueur, watched over tenderly by Mamma Mia, who also insisted that Marcus have two pieces of birthday cake. Will wasn't able to say anything else personal to Carmen, who fully intended to whisk him back to his place and get him into bed before he knew what had hit him.

Will had just asked for the bill and there was a general feeling of contentment around the table when there was a chorus of beeps from Carmen's mobile, Marcus's mobile and Sadie's, which seemed odd.

Marcus was first to access his. Instantly he frowned. ‘Was it from Leo?' Carmen asked, poised to check hers. She was expecting to hear from Jess.

Marcus shook his head and looked over at Sadie, who had just read hers and appeared equally troubled.

‘Don't look at the message,' Marcus said quietly. ‘I think it's been sent to you by mistake. I'm sure he didn't mean to.'

‘Why not? Is it porn? I bet it's Dirty Sam.' Ignoring his advice, Carmen opened her inbox. And then froze.

The message was from Nick. It was a picture message of him with his arm round Marian, who was holding a tiny newborn baby. ‘Introducing the wonderful Noah, born a month early, we're all doing great but knackered!!' was the accompanying message.

‘He must have done one of those group text things,' Sadie said. ‘Marcus is right, I'm sure he didn't mean to send it to you.'

Carmen was falling down one of those cracks again, falling, falling, falling. She stared down at the red-and-white tablecloth, not even registering that Will had put his arm round her. ‘Well, it doesn't matter,' she said, ‘I'm impressed that anyone can do a group text message, I've never worked out how to.' When in doubt make them laugh. No one was laughing. ‘I'm really happy for them,' Carmen went on, ‘I just need to go to the bathroom.' And without looking at anyone, she got up, but instead of going to the Ladies she ran up the steep stairs, pushed open the door and rushed into the street.

It was a bitterly cold February night – the forecasters had kept saying it was going to snow – but Carmen was oblivious to the cold as she walked blindly along Great Portland Street without an idea of where she was going. She just knew that she couldn't sit there and pretend everything was alright. She could hear Will calling her name but she kept on walking.

‘Carmen, wait, please!' He had caught up with her. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. Carmen looked down at the icy pavement and her shoulders sagged. She suddenly felt incredibly weary, resigned;
this would be it, the moment she said goodbye to Will. It had been bad enough telling Daniel, it would be a thousand times worse telling Will.

‘Before you tell me what's going on, I just want to say that I love you. And there is nothing you could say to me that could ever change that,' Will said passionately.

Carmen still couldn't look at him. ‘If only I could freeze time to half an hour ago when we were all so happy,' she said.

‘You can't do that, Carmen, and I wouldn't want to. I want us to move forward together. It's time to go beyond the banter, don't you think? I've been very patient while you've continued to do your distance thing. You've never quite let me in, have you?'

‘Because you wouldn't want to be let in if you really knew me.' Carmen's voice was flat, as flat as her flat-lined spirits. There was no hope.

‘I do really know you, Carmen,' Will insisted.

‘I can't have children.' There, she'd blurted it out, quickly ripped that plaster off the wound.

She felt him slip his jacket round her and she realised she was shivering. She continued to look at the pavement.
On Great Portland Street I sat down and wept
– that almost had the right poetic ring to it.

‘I know,' Will said quietly. ‘I've known for ages. I guessed that's why your marriage must have broken up and then I saw Nick at a gig and he told me. I know, and it doesn't make any difference. I love you. I don't even want children, why did you ever think I did? I've
got loads of nieces and nephews and I've got an adopted child in Africa.'

Still Carmen stared at the ground. ‘You only say that because you're thirty-five. I bet when you turn forty, when all your friends have got children, you'll be desperate for them and then you'll start resenting me, and then finally leave me or I'll leave you because I can't bear to see you so unhappy.'

‘Oh, and you know everything, do you, Carmen? Well, do you know that you have made me happier than anyone else, ever, that the days I don't see you are the days that don't feel as bright? That you make it all mean something?'

‘I can't do it again, Will, really can't. I can't open myself up only to be rejected.' She was crying now. Why did the most wonderful thing in the world, Will telling her he loved her, seem like the saddest?

Will wiped away the tears with his thumb, so, so gently. ‘Then you won't be living, Carmen, you'll just be existing. I promise you that I will never reject you because you can't have children. Maybe,' and here his tone became lighter, ‘because of your mutton tendencies and your relentless teasing of me, and because you so far have refused to tell me you love me.'

He had his arms round her now and had pulled her close to him. He was so warm against her.

‘I want to be with you, and maybe one day if things change and we did both want children we could adopt. Anything's possible; you've just got to be open.'

Finally Carmen looked at him. Something gave inside
her and she did the bravest thing she had done in a very long time. ‘I do love you, Will.'

She gazed into those blue eyes and he said, ‘We're even, then.'

For a while they just held each other until Will said, ‘Now please, can we go back to the restaurant? I'm freezing. And look, it's snowing!' All around them tiny snowflakes were swirling down.

Downstairs in Rico's they were met with cheers and applause from the diners and from their friends. ‘What's going on?' Will asked, bemused by the attention.

‘Mamma Mia was watching you on her CCTV screens and reporting to us what you were doing,' Marcus told them. ‘It was very exciting, and also disturbing as I know it was a terrible invasion of your privacy, but we take it she's finally said it.'

Will nodded.

‘About bloody time, Carmen.' Marcus's tone was teasing but his brown eyes were warm.

Mamma Mia came over and enfolded both Will and Carmen in a hug. ‘Oh my darlings, you are the perfect couple. How would you feel about having your wedding reception here, and I could make you a wonderful cake?'

Carmen and Will just looked at each other, knowing that where Mamma Mia was concerned resistance was futile.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Version 1.0

Epub ISBN 9781407071503

www.randomhouse.co.uk

Published by Arrow Books in 2010

2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

Copyright © Rebecca Farnworth 2010

Rebecca Farnworth has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

First published in Great Britain in 2010 by Arrow Books The Random House Group Limited 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London, SW1V 2SA

www.rbooks.co.uk

Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at:
www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm

The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 0 099 52718 3