Don't Want To Miss A Thing (27 page)

‘I don’t mind.’
In fact, hooray
. ‘I’m Molly, by the way.’

His eyes glinted. ‘I know you’re Molly-by-the-way. Muriel told me.’ Solemnly he held out his hand. ‘My name’s Vince.’

‘Hi, Vince. Nice to meet you. And I agree with you about your grandmother. She’s an amazing lady.’

‘My parents weren’t too thrilled when she picked out that diamond necklace.’ Vince’s tone was rueful. ‘They like to save money, while Gran prefers to spend it. But as she pointed out, if my grandfather were still alive, he’d have bought it for her, so why shouldn’t she get it for herself?’

‘And how did you feel about that?’

‘I was the one who said she definitely should. In fact, I drove her to the auction rooms.’

‘Good for you.’ Molly was all in favour of that.

‘Not at all. It’s her money, she can do what she likes with it.’ Vince shook his head. ‘My mother thinks a diamond necklace is a ridiculous waste of money when Muriel might not have long left to wear it. As far as I’m concerned, all the more reason to buy it now.’

Molly swallowed a mouthful of smoked salmon blini. ‘I think so too. And what do you do?’

‘Guess.’

He looked so cool. ‘Musician.’

He smiled briefly. ‘Architect.’

‘
Really?
’

‘I know. It’s the clothes.’

‘And the hair.’

‘I’m sorry. I just put on whatever makes me feel comfortable. Most architects do wear proper clothes.’

‘Is there a proper uniform?’

‘There is.’ Vince nodded. ‘I sometimes have to wear a suit to work. I’m happier when I don’t.’

‘You’re making me wonder now,’ said Molly, ‘if there’s a caricaturist’s uniform I should have been wearing all these years.’

‘And what do you suppose that would look like?’ He sounded interested.

‘Big red clown shoes, probably. With baggy trousers and a spinning bow tie.’

Vince laughed and let her carry on eating. They chatted for a while longer and Molly found herself liking him more and more. Which, given her history, undoubtedly meant he had to be either gay, married or an extraterrestrial alien.

Eventually a middle-aged couple came over and begged her to draw them before they had to leave. She went back inside to
work for another hour. At ten o’clock in the evening, Muriel sailed across the parquet floor on her bright red mobility scooter and said, ‘Darling, can I ask you a few highly personal questions?’

‘Fire away.’

‘Are you single?’

Crikey. Molly nodded. ‘Yes I am.’

‘So does that mean you’d be open to the idea of going out on a date?’

‘Depends who with.’

‘OK, I’m going to let you in on a little secret.’ Muriel leaned forward and clasped her arm. ‘My grandson Vince, he’s a little shy. I have no idea where he gets it from. Certainly not me.’ The fabulous diamonds flashed under the light from the chandelier. ‘But there we go. He’s the loveliest boy – well, man. He just lacks confidence. I spoke to him earlier and it’s obvious he likes you and finds you attractive. Well, why wouldn’t he? Look at you! Anyway, I told him he should ask you out but he said you might not want to go. So I’m here to make discreet enquiries on his behalf, because being ninety-three can make you kind of impatient.’ Her eyes were birdlike as she scrutinised Molly’s face for a reaction. ‘So what d’you think, hmm?’

The hilarious thing was, Muriel’s head was tilted to one side and so was Wilbur’s, at exactly the same questioning angle. The difference between them was that Muriel was drinking a Manhattan and Wilbur was wagging his tail.

‘Well,’ said Molly, ‘this is a first.’

‘What can I tell you? More than anything, I just want my grandson to be happy. He deserves to be,’ said Muriel. ‘He’s a good person, I can promise you that. No nasty secrets. He’s intelligent, handsome, kind . . .’ She trailed away, waiting to see if she’d succeeded in her pitch.

Molly smiled. Basically, how could she refuse? ‘If he asked me out,’ she said, ‘I’d say yes.’

‘Good girl. You won’t regret it.’ Muriel triumphantly reversed her scooter and executed a tight turning circle in order to head off. ‘Have you drawn him yet?’

‘Er, no . . .’

‘Excellent, I’ll send him over. Bye-eee!’

Perhaps understandably, it took Vince a while to pluck up the courage to return. Personally Molly was amazed he hadn’t done a runner.

‘Hi again,’ he announced when she’d finished a caricature of one of Muriel’s neighbours. ‘I’m back. My turn now.’

‘No problem!’ Molly carried on as if everything was
fine
. ‘Take a seat!’

‘OK, so it’s pretty obvious my grandmother’s been meddling. I can tell by the look on your face.’ He nodded when she pretended to look mystified.

‘Oh.’

‘Look, I’m sorry. I love her to bits but she’s incorrigible. I begged her not to say anything but there’s just no telling her. She’s already forced you to agree to go out on a date with me, hasn’t she?’

‘I wouldn’t say forced.’ Molly realised she was going to have to put him out of his misery. ‘She wanted to know if you asked me out, would I say yes.’

‘And?’

‘I said yes.’

‘You don’t have to.’

He was a nice person. More to the point, this time it wasn’t just her own possibly flawed opinion; she had a cast-iron guarantee from Muriel.

Anyway, why shouldn’t she go? It would be an adventure. Work had taken over recently. Fishing-mad Graham had been her last boyfriend, which meant she’d been single for almost a year now.

Crikey, that was ages. How had she only just realised it had been so long? What had initially been a deliberate decision to steer clear of men for a bit had somehow stretched into twelve whole months.

At this rate she was in danger of turning into the village spinster.

Aloud, Molly said, ‘I’d really like to,’ and saw Vince exhale with relief.

‘Sure?’

‘Sure.’

‘You’re not just saying that?’

‘I’m really not.’ She began to sketch him as the smile spread across his face and he visibly relaxed. Goodness, he was
so
good-looking. He resembled a rock star, yet the stellar outer package concealed an inner, less confident personality. That was actually a very attractive quality in a man.

‘You’ve just made my night,’ said Vince. ‘My grandmother has her uses.’

‘She could come along with us if you like.’

He grimaced at this. ‘No, she couldn’t. Much as I love her, that would be weird. How about next Wednesday, are you free then?’

‘I am. But I live in Briarwood; it’s quite a way from here.’

‘Not a problem. Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at eight. We’ll go out to dinner.’

‘Where?’

‘Somewhere nice, don’t worry.’

Molly made him stop talking then, and swiftly completed the
caricature with his mouth in an exaggerated smile. As she was showing him the finished result, they heard the squeak of wheels on polished floorboards.

‘Very good. That nose is exactly right.’ Muriel studied the drawing with satisfaction then said loudly, ‘And how about the other thing?’

Molly kept a straight face.
So subtle, so deft
.

‘All I can think is, you must have paid her an awful lot of money,’ said Vince. ‘She said yes.’

‘I didn’t offer her a penny.’ Muriel looked smug. ‘This girl’s got her head screwed on the right way. All she had to do was meet you to know you were a good bet.’

Just before midnight there was a firework display on the Downs, in Muriel’s honour. ‘That’ll wake ’em all up,’ she chuckled as chrysanthemum bursts exploded into the sky. And to her delight it wasn’t long before a police car pulled up, the officers alerted by disgruntled neighbours who didn’t appreciate the disturbance.

‘Miserable sods,’ Muriel unrepentantly pronounced. ‘Some people just don’t know how to have fun.’

Molly left the party at one o’clock. Muriel and Wilbur went with her to the front door.

‘Darling, you won’t regret it.’ The diamond necklace reflected rainbow shards of light as she reached for Molly’s hands. ‘Vince would be any girl’s dream man. He’s a genuinely nice person . . . housetrained, charming, even knows how to cook. I’m telling you, he’s a catch.’

‘And you missed your vocation,’ said Molly. ‘You should have been a matchmaker.’

‘Darling, I’ve been matchmaking all my life. I have a talent for it.’ She patted Molly’s cheek. ‘And I have a good feeling about you.’

As she climbed into her car, Molly experienced a squiggle of excitement about her upcoming date. See? Dexter wasn’t the only one with a bit of romantic excitement in his life.

After a couple of alarmingly false starts, it appeared the time had finally come to start de-spinstering herself.

Chapter 33

Amber lay back, the long grass tickling her shoulders and the nape of her neck. The heat of the sun was melting over her closed eyelids. In the distance, over on the main stage, one of her favourite bands was playing. She’d been looking forward to seeing them but couldn’t be bothered now to get up and make her way over there. She was just too comfortable.

‘Hey. You OK?’ Doss gave her hip a nudge with his foot.

‘Yeah.’ Amber opened her eyes and saw him standing over her, his face advancing and receding like waves on the shore. She giggled and said, ‘Stay still.’

‘I am still. You’re stoned.’

‘Little bit, maybe.’ Bit drunk, bit stoned, whatever. A fly buzzing around her head landed on her left shoulder and she batted it away, missing and hitting herself in the chest instead. ‘Ow.’

‘Hahahaha.’ That was enough to set Doss off; he cracked up laughing and couldn’t stop. As the clouds swirled overhead, Amber joined in. The clouds were dancing along to the music from her favourite band. She might not be able to stand up but she could waggle her arms . . . ha ha, and make sure she didn’t whack herself in the face . . .

The band played on, the smell of frying onions drifted across from the burger stand and Amber’s stomach gave a rumble of hunger. She hadn’t eaten anything today, which was probably why the cider had gone to her head.

‘I’m starving,’ she told Doss.

‘Me too.’

‘I want a burger.’

‘I want a private helicopter and a holiday in Vegas.’

‘Not Vegas, that’s too far.’

‘Yeah. Ibiza, then.’

‘I’m still hungry. Shall we have a burger?’

He pulled a face. ‘Have you seen how much they cost? Rip-off.’

‘But we need to eat something.’ Amber dug in the pocket of her jeans and eased out her last ten-pound note; she already knew she’d have to pay for his too. ‘Will you go and get them?’

Doss looked over without enthusiasm at the snaking queue. ‘Why can’t you?’

‘Because my legs won’t work.’

‘You’re such a lightweight.’ He took the money from her and loped off. She lay back down again and watched a bird soar overhead, lazily changing direction as if it were writing its name in the sky. She was only a lightweight because smoking spliffs was new to her, unlike Doss who’d been doing it for years. Her stomach rumbled and she pressed her hand against it to make it stop . . . sshh . . . God, she couldn’t
wait
for him to come back with the burgers.

‘Hi, Amber.’

Amber’s eyelids, which had been drooping, snapped open. Two faces were gazing down at her. Shaun Corrigan and his friend Max.

‘Hi.’ If she said it with enough lack of enthusiasm, hopefully they’d get the message and go away, leave her in peace.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Just perfect, thanks.’

Shaun crouched down next to her. ‘Sure?’

‘Like you care.’

‘Don’t be like that. I do care. You’re my sister and you look pretty wasted.’

‘Thanks. You look like you work in a bank.’ He didn’t, not really, but he and Max certainly looked cleaner and shinier than most of the other festival-goers. ‘What are you doing here, anyway? Wouldn’t have thought it was your thing.’

‘Hey, we like music. And it’s free. We weren’t spying on you, by the way. We were just sitting over there and Max spotted you a while back. Was that your boyfriend with you?’

‘Yeah, he’s just gone to get a couple of burgers.’

‘So you’ve been smoking dope?’

Oh God
. Bored, she said, ‘Spare me the lecture.’

‘Dad said you’d always been really anti-drugs.’

‘Did he? Maybe that was back when he was
my
dad.’

‘He’s still your dad.’

Amber shook her head. ‘No no no, he’s all yours now.’

‘He really misses you,’ said Shaun.

A knot tightened in her chest. ‘Well, I don’t miss him.’

They sat there without speaking for a while, listening to the band playing on the faraway stage. Then the music stopped and Shaun said, ‘You must be in the middle of exams. How’s it going?’

‘Honestly? Really bad. I’m going to fail all of them. Haven’t done any revision. Can’t be bothered. And guess whose fault that is? Your father’s. You can tell him that too. When I don’t pass any of my AS levels, I hope he feels guilty.’ Amber gazed steadily at Shaun. ‘Because it’ll all be thanks to him.’

‘He’s so proud of you.’ Shaun looked shocked. ‘It’s going to really upset him.’

‘Oh no, how terrible, what a
shame
.’

‘Shall I tell him about the drugs too?’

Amber paused; that wouldn’t be such a great idea. ‘No, don’t say that. He’d only tell Mum and she’d get all stressy about it.’

‘OK. But take care, all right? Look after yourself.’

‘I always do.’

‘I’m glad we bumped into you.’ Shaun’s voice softened. ‘It’s nice to have a chat. Look, can we swap numbers? Then maybe we could text each other. You know, not loads, just every now and again.’

Her instinctive reaction was to say no. But actually it had been kind of nice to see him again. In a weird way. And she’d enjoyed telling him about her exams, knowing he’d be passing the information on. It was actually a neat way of worrying her dad, causing him a bit more pain. Which he
deserved
.

‘OK.’ Amber took out her phone and Shaun took out his, which was a newer model than hers. Who’d paid for that, hmm?

Once the numbers had been exchanged, Amber said, ‘How did your exams go, then?’

‘Good, thanks. I need two As and a B to get a place at Birmingham. I should be fine.’