Forget Me Knot (25 page)

“What?”

“Firing all their hopeless clothes designers and bringing in new ones who actually know something about high street fashion. He needs to get rid of all these money men he surrounds himself with who have convinced him that constant
sales and price reductions are the way to go. He should start listening to the customers. They all want the store to modernize. If you want my opinion, S&M ignores their customers at their peril.”

“That it?”

“Oh, they need to change the mirrors in the fitting rooms. The ones they’ve got make you look fat.”

“Anything else?” He grinned.

“Nope. I think that’s all.”

They bought coffee and muffins from one of the park cafés and went to find a bench by the Serpentine.

“By the way,” she said, “I still haven’t looked over the contract. I’ll do it as soon as I get back to the shop and put it straight in the post.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I was thinking about going ice-skating tonight.”

She started to giggle. “You’re saying that I shouldn’t post the contract because you’re planning to go ice-skating tonight? OK, that sounds logical.”

“Sorry, I’m not explaining myself. I happened to be passing the rink in Queensway this morning. I haven’t been skating since I was a kid and it occurred to me that it might be a laugh.”

“Dan, are you asking me to come ice-skating with you?”

“Yes. I know it’s a mad idea, but I thought it might cheer you up. Plus you could give me the contract rather than putting it in the post. That way we save time. C’mon. What do you say?”

“I say, I can’t skate,” she said.

“Well, if it helps, I was always rubbish at it, so we’ll both be in good company.”

“I don’t know. I’ve got so much to do. I’m behind with all my paperwork. My tax return’s late. They’re bound to fine me—”

“So do it tomorrow night. If it’s this late, another day isn’t going to make much difference.”

A smile began to form on her face. “You’re right. You know what? I’d love to go ice-skating. I shut up shop at six. You could pick me up at half past.”

“You’re on,” he said.

SOPH POPPED
in just after five—a few minutes after Abby arrived back from her afternoon meeting. She had a dentist’s appointment and had stopped by on her way to find out how Abby was bearing up.

“Oh, you know. I’m getting there.”

“And how are things going with Mr. Takahashi?”

“Oh, fine. He has this pretty, übercamp assistant named Ichiro, and I think he and Scozz might be in love.”

Soph chuckled. “Good for Scozz. He deserves a bit of fun.”

“Talking of fun. I’m going ice-skating tonight. With Dan.”

Soph was in no doubt as to the nature of Dan’s invitation. “I’m telling you, he’s moving in on you.”

Abby blushed. “You think?”

“Oh, like it hasn’t occurred to you.”

“OK, I admit the possibility did cross my mind, but even if you’re right and he is interested in me, he’s not going to get very far.”

“You don’t fancy him?”

“I’m not saying that. I have to admit I do find him
attractive, but I’m not one of those women who comes out of one relationship only to glide seamlessly into the next because she can’t bear the thought of being alone. I know I need to take time to get over Toby. I’m not ready to get involved with somebody else.”

Soph shrugged. “I dunno. I know it isn’t the conventional wisdom, but it might be just what you need—you know, somebody who really fancies you. Think how fantastic it would be for your morale.”

“Perhaps, but I’m just not ready.” Abby decided to change the subject. “So, have you told your parents about Lamar being black?”

“Not as such.”

Abby laughed. “What does that mean?”

“It means I still haven’t found the right moment. But I will. I’m just so scared that they won’t accept him and I’ll have to choose between them and Lamar. This whole thing could turn into a complete disaster.”

Just then Martin appeared. He’d been out making some deliveries. When he heard that Abby had agreed to go out with Dan, he took the same line as Soph. “A new man in your life is just what you need.”

Abby told him what she had told Soph—that she wasn’t ready to start dating. “Plus, rebound relationships always end in disaster.”

Martin shook his head. “God, when did the pair of you get to be such harbingers of doom? First there’s Soph convinced that her parents are going to make her choose between them and Lamar. Now you’re convinced that starting a relationship with the gorgeous Dan could only end in disaster.”

Soph grinned. “For my part at least, it comes from being Jewish. After five thousand years of pain, misery and persecution, what do you expect? You want a harbinger of joy and delight, be best friends with Big Bird.” She looked at her watch and said she had to get going or she would be late for her dentist appointment. “By the way,” she said to Martin, “good luck with Mr. T’s assistant. Abby tells me he’s a real cutie.” With that she winked at Martin and headed toward the door.

DAN ARRIVED
a few minutes before six-thirty—just as Martin was getting ready to leave. Martin told Dan how he was jazzed at the thought of Fabulous Flowers being used in his film. “Plus I get to meet Lucinda Wallace. I just adore her. She’s so unstarry. Always really natural when she’s interviewed. Reminds me of Kate Winslet in that respect.” He picked up his shoulder bag and lifted the strap over his head. “Anyway, you kids have a fantastic time.” He turned to Abby. “See you tomorrow,” he whispered. “You can tell me how it all went. I will want details.”

With that he said “bye” to Dan and took his leave.

Praying that Dan hadn’t heard Martin’s last remark, Abby opened her bag, took out the signed contract and handed it to Dan. At the same time she noticed the edgy khaki bomber jacket he was wearing and couldn’t help thinking how cute he looked in it. “All seems fine,” she said. “So, when do we start shooting?”

He told her that he was aiming toward the middle of the following week.

As Abby flitted about, checking that the back door was
securely locked and gathering up her keys and jacket, Dan wandered round the shop.

“You know, I really love coming here,” he said.

“You do? Why?”

“I dunno. It’s something about walking in off a noisy city street and entering this very calm, tranquil world full of perfume and color. It’s soothing, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t have said that if you’d been here the other day when Scozza and his ex were screaming at each other.” She explained about Debbie Harry and the custody battle.

Dan listened in amused disbelief. “Don’t get me wrong, I love animals, but it beats me how two adults could declare war over a dog.”

By now Dan had wandered into the middle of the shop and was gazing at the containers of flowers arranged on the circular plinth. “I don’t know how you work out what goes with what,” he said, carefully removing a bird-of-paradise stem from one of the zinc vases. He moved to the next container and did the same to a long twig of pussy willow. He held this next to the dazzling orange bloom.

Abby wrinkled her nose. “Doesn’t work. You’re mixing your metaphors.” She put down her jacket and bag and went over to him. “Pussy willow says traditional English country house in spring. Birds-of-paradise are bright, angular and much more contemporary. They’re also so vibrant they don’t really need much else with them, apart from some outsize leaves or tall grass.”

She put the pussy willow back in water and took out two more bird-of-paradise stems. “Come over to the counter,”
she said. Clearly intrigued, he followed her. She found a tall, fairly narrow square glass vase and stood it in front of him. Then she handed him a florist’s knife.

“Would I be right in thinking that, like most men, you’ve never arranged flowers?”

“OK, there was this one time,” he said. “I try not to think about it. You have to understand, I was young. I wasn’t sure who I was… and those daffodils were so beautiful… so seductive. They were just calling out to me.”

She bashed him playfully on the arm. “God, why do heterosexual men feel so threatened by the idea of arranging a few flowers?”

“Easy—we think our penises will drop off.”

She shook her head and smiled. “Well, I’m going to prove you wrong. You are going to create your very first flower arrangement.”

“I am?” he said, frowning. “But shouldn’t we be getting to the ice rink?”

“Come on. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“O-kay.”

“Off you go, then.”

He placed the three stems in the vase and stood back. “Quick, simple and effective, I think. Don’t you?”

“Well… first, you haven’t used the knife. You need to trim the stems—otherwise they won’t take up any water. Second, what you’ve done is just a tad…”

“Boring?”

“Let’s just say predictable. Try cutting the stems to different heights. That way you make the arrangement more interesting.” By now she had located a bunch of not-too-large monstera leaves, which she laid down on the counter,
next to the vase. “And these will set it off but without being overpowering.”

She meant for him to cut the flower stems in such a way that they would stand in the vase and form an even, downward slant. What he ended up with was one massively tall stem, one a tiny bit shorter and another so short that its head disappeared below the rim of the vase. Finally he picked up the leaves and shoved them behind the stems.

“Ta-da. What do you reckon?”

“Hmm,” she said, producing a watering can and filling the vase with water. “Well, it’s certainly creative.” She tilted her head to one side. “The way the third stem completely disappears is actually rather inventive.”

“Really?” He stood back and considered his effort. “No it’s not. You’re just being kind. It’s terrible. I got the heights all wrong. It looks like a gorilla did it.”

“No, it doesn’t.” She paused and felt her mouth twitching with laughter. “All right. Maybe it does—just a bit.”

Determined not to be defeated, he got busy with the knife, cutting and recutting the stems, trying to make the arrangement work, but each time he only made it worse. After each hopeless attempt, they would shake with laughter. In the end he had taken so much off the stems that all three flowers had their heads below the rim of the vase.

“Oh, my God,” he said, still laughing, “now, that really does look like the work of a gorilla.”

She folded her arms. “OK, maybe you shouldn’t give up the day job.”

THEY DROVE
to the indoor ice rink in Queensway in Dan’s elderly VW Golf. The backseat was covered in piles
of paper and odds and ends of camera equipment. There were a couple of empty Starbucks cups and some sandwich-wrapper remains lying on the floor. “Excuse the mess,” he said, as they got in. “We were filming outside last week, and the car became my office.”

“Please, don’t worry,” she said. She wanted to say that she rather liked the shambles. It was such a contrast to the interior of Toby’s Mercedes, which was always immaculate. Eating in the car was strictly verboten in case the upholstery got stained, and if he spied so much as a speck of dust on the dashboard he would be right there with one of the antistatic dusters he always kept in the glove compartment. It was impossible to unwrap so much as a toffee without him tensing up.

“So,” he said, slowing down at traffic lights, “how are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“No … I mean how are you—
really.”

She looked down at her hands. “Oh, you know… being busy helps.”

He nodded. “I know that feeling.”

“Dan, please don’t take this the wrong way, but would you mind if we didn’t talk about Toby and the breakup? I just feel like forgetting it tonight.”

She tried to work out why she was holding back. She liked this man. He cared. He was a great listener and she knew she could trust him. But she’d been thinking about what Soph had said about him moving in on her. She couldn’t let this happen. Even though she was attracted to Dan, she wasn’t remotely ready to start a new relationship. In order to prevent it, she had to set boundaries and keep him at arm’s length.

“I completely understand,” Dan said. “Of course we don’t have to talk about the breakup.”

Their eyes met for a few seconds, and she smiled her thanks.

IT TURNED
out that Dan was being modest when he said he couldn’t skate. In fact, he was rather accomplished on the ice. He had perfect balance and could skate forward and backward, quite fast. Most important, he could stop at will. Abby could do none of these things. At first she clung to the barrier, and no amount of gentle coaxing from Dan could prize her away. Then, when she finally did let go and attempted to put one skate in front of another, she fell backward onto the ice and lay there, arms and legs waving like a marooned beetle.

She was hugely embarrassed by her incompetence. It didn’t help that the ice rink was full of dexterous teenagers, speed skating and performing highly complicated maneuvers.

“You must think I’m a complete wimp,” she said. “In my defense I have to tell you that my elevator phobia’s practically gone. I took the elevator to the twenty-third floor the other day.”

“Hey, that’s brilliant news. Why didn’t you tell me before? The rappelling at Covent Garden really paid off, then.” He moved forward, as if he were about to give her a hug. Then suddenly he pulled back. Maybe he didn’t want to give the impression that he was making a pass at her. This made her think that maybe Dan wanted nothing more than to be her friend. Perhaps he wasn’t moving in on her after all.

Incompetent on the ice as she was, Dan refused to let
her give up. She lost count of how many times she fell over, but after each tumble Dan eased her back onto her feet and tried to demonstrate where she was going wrong. She did her best to copy him but only ended up falling over again.

It must have taken an hour or so, but finally she started to get the measure of it. Soon she was gliding, albeit hesitantly, over the ice.

“Brilliant,” Dan cried. He skated over to her and she felt his arm round her waist. “I’ll guide you round the rink,” he said. “That way you can go a bit faster.”