Don't Want To Miss A Thing (24 page)

Was this how it felt to live here, or did you stop noticing, after
a while, the endless bustle, the busyness and anonymity of it all?

Frankie, evidently thinking the same, said, ‘You could walk these streets for weeks and never bump into anyone you know.’

Molly nodded in agreement and the next moment was knocked sideways by a man hurrying past with headphones in his ears. ‘But you can bump into lots of people you don’t.’

Not everyone, though, was unfriendly.

‘Sorry, I can’t stop looking at you. You just have the most amazing eyes.’

The trouble with being paid compliments like that was Molly never knew how you were supposed to react. They’d been in this club on Charlotte Street for a couple of hours now and Adam had been talking to her for the last forty minutes. Chatting her up, actually. Quite charmingly, too. He was easy to talk to, an advertising executive who lived in Notting Hill and owned a chocolate Labrador called Fredo.

‘He’s the love of my life, my best friend.’ His grey eyes creased at the corners as he talked fondly about Fredo. ‘Such a character. Do you like dogs?’

‘Oh yes.’ Molly nodded.

‘I knew you would.’ His smile broadened as he rested his hand on hers. ‘I could never be attracted to a girl who didn’t love dogs. Here, let me get you another drink . . .’

‘Let me just check my friend’s all right.’ Swivelling round, Molly searched the crowds and saw that Frankie was on the dance floor with the man she’d been talking to earlier. Frankie wasn’t out on the pull but she’d decided earlier to pretend to be. They were in London where no one knew them; for one night only she had the chance to be whoever she wanted, rather than poor old Frankie whose husband had been cheating on her for the last twenty years. When this one had asked her if she was divorced
she’d simply said yes as if it had all happened years ago and couldn’t matter less. And now she was laughing and chatting as they danced together. She was learning how to be single again, practising the long-forgotten art of flirtation.

Although to be honest the dancing could probably do with a bit of work.

‘Here you go.’ Adam pressed another drink into her hand and said, ‘Cheers.’

‘Cheers,’ said Molly.

They clinked glasses and he smiled at her again. ‘You’re amazing. I’m so glad this happened tonight. Imagine if one of us had gone to a different bar.’

‘You don’t mean that.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s just another line.’

‘You think?’ The smile became a grin. ‘But am I saying it well?’

‘Saying it very well.’

‘Well, maybe that’s because it’s true.’

‘Smooth,’ said Molly. ‘Very smooth.’

‘I also like that perfume you’re wearing.’ Moving closer, Adam inhaled. ‘What is it?’

They’d gone mad in Harrods’ perfume hall this afternoon, squirting themselves with dozens of different scents with names they’d never encountered before. It had been hard not to.

Molly said, ‘It’s kind of a mish-mash,’ and he laughed again.

‘See, how many girls would say that? I like everything about you. Come on, let’s have a dance.’

The music had slowed down. Where was the harm? She let him draw her on to the dance floor and slide his arms round her waist. OK, this was promising. Adam was a good dancer, he had rhythm, he was fun and easy to talk to. The last thing she’d expected to happen tonight was encountering someone she
might actually want to get involved with, but maybe the universe had other plans. Every couple had to meet each other for the first time somewhere. What if this was their first time? Imagine if they were to get married and have children and live happily together for decades to come and one day their granddaughter would sit on her knee and say, ‘Come on then, Granny, tell us how you and Grandpa got together, did you know straight away that he was the one for you?’ And Adam would laugh and say, ‘It was for me, but your gran played it very cool and pretended not to find me irresistible. We met in a club in North London and—’

‘Hey.’ Adam’s voice cut in, interrupting her fantasy. ‘What are you thinking?’

As if she was going to tell him
that
.

‘I’m thinking how much my feet hurt.’

‘That’s so romantic.’

‘True though.’

‘And there’s me, marvelling that you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.’

Yeah, right. ‘
Okaaaaaay
.’

‘And a perfect nose.’

‘Ha.’ Molly shook her head. ‘Are these your best chat-up lines?’

‘As for your mouth,’ Adam murmured, ‘it’s just so . . . kissable.’

‘You don’t actually know that for a fact though.’ He was a smoothie, but a playful one. It was a bit of fun, nothing more. Entering into the spirit, Molly said, ‘It’s just a guess.’

‘But an educated one. I’m not just a pretty face, you know. I bet you’re a fantastic kisser.’

‘I’m not. I’m terrible, completely disastrous. Like a camel.’

Adam laughed and stopped dancing for a moment. ‘I’ll bet cold hard cash that isn’t true.’

‘Ah, but what if it is?’ Molly resumed dancing, her arms around his waist.

He said, ‘OK, this is killing me now. I have to know.’

She pretended not to hear him.

‘If you’re playing a game with me,’ Adam breathed in her ear, ‘it’s working. I’m liking you more and more. My God, you’re
dangerous
.’

And then he was tilting her chin, turning her face up to meet his. For a split second Molly considered making the kiss comically disastrous to make him laugh. Oh, but she didn’t want to. Imagine if they did end up getting married; the very first kiss should be a thing of beauty, shouldn’t it? Something to be remembered with fondness, rather than for its similarity to being attacked by a rabid camel . . .

Their lips made contact and Adam pulled her closer. Hmm, this was nice, although the way his other hand was wandering over her bottom was a bit presumptuous. Molly reached down to move it away and—

‘You bastard, you complete BASTARD!’ shrieked a woman two inches from her ear.

‘Oh shit, no,’ Adam groaned as a pair of furious arms came between them, yanking them apart like a pair of mating dogs.

Which they definitely
weren’t
.

‘What’s going on?’ said Molly, although it was pretty obvious.

‘Well, hello, Adam’s
granny
, you’re looking incredibly well,’ sneered a woman with super-thick false lashes and a mane of waist-length white-blond extensions. ‘Considering you’re eighty-five and at death’s door.’

Oh God, everyone around them had stopped dancing and was staring avidly. Molly said, ‘Maybe he lied to you, but it’s nothing to do with me. I don’t even know him!’

‘Ha, I’ll bet. Girls like you make me
sick
, you should be ashamed of yourself. Sleep with someone else’s boyfriend, then go running off to the papers, that’s all your sort do—’

‘Will you tell her?’ Stunned, Molly appealed to Adam who was keeping well out of it. ‘Seriously, this isn’t
fair
.’

‘Shut up shut up SHUT UP,’ the blonde bellowed in her face. ‘And keep away from my boyfriend!’

‘But I wasn’t—’ Molly gasped and failed to jump out of the way in time as the contents of a wine glass scored a direct hit on the front of her dress.

Chapter 29

Molly froze.

Her white dress.

Red wine.

All over
.

‘Oh fuck.’ Adam grabbed hold of his girlfriend’s arms. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’

‘Ha!’ White-blond extensions flying, his girlfriend jabbed a finger at Molly and shrieked back at him, ‘And
you
shouldn’t have been doing
that
!’

Molly stared down, aghast at the state of herself. She looked like a murder scene and red wine was dripping from the ends of her hair.

‘Maybe that’ll teach you to keep your filthy hands off my boyfriend,’ the blonde yelled as Adam hauled her away. Aiming a wild slap at his head she added, ‘And I bloody hate you too!’

Adam snapped back, ‘You stupid bitch, look what you did to her dress.’

‘Oh my God.’ Back from the ladies’ loo, Frankie stopped dead at the edge of the dance floor. ‘What
happened
?’

Cat fights weren’t Molly’s scene. This was a nightmare. She
turned and headed for the exit, dripping red wine all the way out of the club. On the pavement, yet more people turned to stare. One of the bar staff came after her.

‘Adam sent me out to say sorry and give you this.’ The boy handed her a wad of notes.

On closer inspection it turned out to be less of a wad, more a select few; he’d evidently valued her dress at sixty pounds.

Luckily she’d found it in the Top Shop sale reduced to thirty.
Win
.

‘Tell Adam he and his girlfriend deserve each other.’ As Molly folded the notes, a flash went off and she saw the barman had just snapped her on his phone. ‘Hey. What was that for?’

‘Sorry. I just like taking photos to show my mum. Bye.’

He disappeared back inside the club and seconds later Frankie came rushing out with her jacket slung over her arm.

‘I had to get it back from the cloakroom. Are you OK? I can’t believe she did that to you.’

‘He lied to her, told her he was visiting his grandmother in hospital. Come on, let’s go.’ Fed up with the attention they were getting, Molly crossed her arms across her drenched chest.

As they made their way back to the hotel, Frankie said, ‘Honestly, and to think I’d wondered if we’d see any celebrities in London.’

Molly’s footsteps slowed. ‘What does that mean? Was there someone famous at the club? Damn, I didn’t even see them.’

‘Are you joking?’ Frankie was giving her an odd look.

‘Why? No. Who did I miss?’

‘Are you serious? Don’t you ever watch
Mortimer Way
?’

Molly shook her head;
Mortimer Way
was one of the soaps she’d never got hooked into.

‘The one who chucked wine over you,’ said Frankie. ‘She plays the hairdresser in it, the one who’s married to a transvestite.’

‘Oh, great.’

‘She just got out of prison for kidnapping her husband’s boyfriend.’

‘In real life?’

‘No, on the show. I don’t often watch it,’ Frankie said hastily. ‘Just catch it every now and again.’

Back at the hotel, Molly filled the bathroom sink, attempted without success to scrub the wine stains out – well, you always have to try, don’t you? – and chucked the ruined dress in the bin.

The signal wasn’t brilliant on her phone but a spot of Googling eventually informed them that the actress’s name was Layla Vitti. She was in her early thirties with a string – if not a tug-of-war rope – of disastrous romances behind her. She infamously fell for men who treated her badly and broke her heart. And now Adam appeared to be another one she could add to the list.

‘Why did she have to ruin
our
evening?’ Molly grumbled. ‘Why couldn’t she chuck red wine over her cheating boyfriend?’

‘Some women are like that. Never blame the man. What was he like, anyway?’ Having kicked off her shoes, Frankie began unzipping her own dress. ‘You looked as if the two of you were getting on so well.’

‘We were.’ Molly grimaced. ‘That’s because he forgot to mention he was a lying scumbag. Oh look, this was supposed to be your big weekend. It’s only one o’clock and there’s plenty of other clubs still open. Why don’t I change into something else and we’ll go out again?’

‘Honestly, I don’t think I can be bothered. What’s the point?’ Reaching for her pyjamas, Frankie said drily, ‘Knowing our luck, if we tried it we’d only end up meeting someone worse.’

‘Oh no, are you off?’ Lois looked desolate.

Henry didn’t want to leave either, but it was eight o’clock on Sunday evening and there was still no sign of Frankie from the café. The situation was getting ridiculous now. He and Dex had spent last night here at the Saucy Swan while Amber and her boyfriend had babysat Delphi. This afternoon they’d come over to the pub again, this time bringing Delphi with them, and had eaten one of Lois’s stupendous Sunday roasts.

‘I am.’ Henry took out his car keys and realised she was going to kiss him. Since there was no escape, he braced himself and prepared to submit with good grace.

‘Well, make sure you come back and see us again.
Soon
.’ Earrings jangling and rose perfume wafting, Lois clasped his head in her hands and planted a smacker on his mouth. ‘Ha, your face! Sorry about that, couldn’t resist. Your fault for being so damn gorgeous. Did you enjoy the food?’

‘Very much.’ He nodded; this much was true.

‘She’s a fantastic cook,’ Dex said appreciatively. ‘That’s why we come here every week.’

‘Just one of my many talents.’ She winked at Henry.

Lois was definitely a character. She was also terrifying. Covering his embarrassment, Henry turned to Delphi, who didn’t terrify him.

‘Bye, gorgeous. See you soon.’

‘Hear that?’ Lois beamed. ‘He’s missing me already.’

‘WawawawaWAAA.’ Delphi, babbling away on Dex’s lap, reached up for a kiss from Henry.

‘Wawawa to you too.’ Henry scooped her into his arms and allowed her to grab hold of his ears –
ow
– while she planted a kiss on his cheek.

‘Ah, look at you two.’ Lois was watching them fondly. ‘You’d
make a lovely daddy.’ Her eyes glinting with mischief, she said, ‘I’d be up for it if you wanted. I’m only thirty-seven, in case you’re wondering. Still got plenty of eggs left.’

Fifteen minutes later, in his car, Henry was considering the last two days. They’d been great, and he’d really enjoyed seeing Dex and Delphi again, but his mission had been ultimately unsuccessful. He hadn’t achieved what he’d set out to do this weekend.

Oh well, too late now. Couldn’t be helped.

The traffic lights at the junction ahead turned red and he slowed to a halt. In the opposite direction, a yellow Fiesta also stopped. As Henry sat waiting for the lights to change, he saw a small creature amble into the road in front of the Fiesta. Was it a rat? A hamster? A hedgehog, maybe? He was a townie, he didn’t know. More importantly, had the people in the other car spotted it? Because if they hadn’t, they could be about to run over whatever it was.