How to Get a (Love) Life (27 page)

If it wasn’t so dark in the observatory, I’d swear my brother was blushing.

‘… I wanted to ask, whether, and I want your honest opinion, Nic, whether you think I should ask her to move in with me?’

There was a perfect silence and over our heads a star streaked across the sky.

I sat up slowly, blinked a few times and looked at my lovely brother.

‘That is a brilliant idea. Yes, you definitely should.’

And then, grinning, I threw myself into a hug and punched his arm so hard that he swore. I knew my brother had found the one person who could make him happy. And that made me happy too.

On the way home my feet became heavier and, climbing the stairs to the flat, I felt weary. The excitement of Mark’s news had worn off slightly by the time I closed the door on the outside world, and instead I felt lonely and tired.

As I poured myself a glass of wine I ranted inwardly at myself. What kind of person did this make me? My brother was having an epic romance and here I was feeling sorry for myself. I was ashamed of myself. I should have dragged him back to the flat and pulled out a bottle of champagne so we could toast this lovely moment in his life. I should have forced him to sit on the sofa and fed him lots of sisterly advice.

Maybe that was my problem. Who was I to advise him? What did I really know about relationships? Here I was, sitting in my pristine flat, alone, again. I’d spent the last two months on useless dates with hopeless men and had nothing to show for it.

The image of Alex with his wife popped into my head along with my brother’s face when he talked about Carol – they were incredibly lucky. What an amazing thing to have, to know that that kind of love was possible.

I sighed lightly and a little flame of hope stirred within. I had to keep up the search. It was worth it. I’d seen proof.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Struggling into the office just past eight thirty the next day, I was surprised to see the door ajar and Caroline, who normally wafted into the office just after 9 o’clock, rearranging the furniture and scattering any spare surface with shiny confetti pieces shaped like tiny balloons. She turned, mouth half-open, before putting a hand to her chest.

‘Nic! Oh, good you can help. I thought you were James arriving early.’

I put my bag down on my chair. ‘What are you doing?’

‘It’s James’ birthday! I thought we should make a fuss of him.’ She threw me a pack of unopened balloons. ‘Get to work.’

‘You know it’s not even 9 o’clock and I’ve had no caffeine as yet.’

She rolled her eyes and walking towards the office kitchen, said, ‘Coming right up, your majesty.’ She bowed in the doorway and I laughed, tearing open the bag and taking out a balloon in an alarming shade of yellow. By the time Caroline returned with a mug (that said ‘I Love Leeds’ for no discernible reason), I was surrounded by an assortment of balloons in varying sizes and had the onset of earache.

Caroline tapped at her computer and Lesley Gore’s ‘It’s my Party’ started up.

‘Just getting us in the groove,’ she called over the chorus.

I looked to the heavens in mock exasperation and reached for the mug.

The music was still blaring when James appeared. He laughed as he walked through the office. ‘You
have
been busy,’ he chuckled, looking around the room.

Caroline walked over and folded him into an enormous hug. He laughed again and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You’re both brilliant.’

He leant down to kiss me on the cheek. Our eyes met. ‘Thank you.’

I felt my whole face get hot. I looked away hurriedly, my insides screeching.

We ate
Ben 10
chocolate cake for breakfast off kitchen roll, crumbs scattered over the CVs on my desk, and drank tea with a drop of whisky. (‘It’s a special day,’ Caroline argued, pouring in a sizeable amount.) She was making us both laugh with her tales from the weekend. Apparently Ben had decided that clothes really inhibited people and he wanted to be ‘like Adam in the garden’. The trouble was that he decided to become Adam in the garden at one of her husband’s work dinner parties.

James was sitting on the floor, head resting against the wall, long legs stretched out. His tie had come loose and he clearly hadn’t shaved that morning. He would have looked devilishly attractive if Caroline hadn’t forced him into a cone-shaped hat emblazoned with ‘Birthday Boy’ in big cartoon letters.

A Meatloaf track played, and as I leant against the wall laughing at something Caroline said, James’ hand brushed against mine. My stomach lurched. I felt as if I were fourteen years old. Before I could look at him there was a cough from the doorway. There, dressed in an immaculate navy blue pencil skirt and silk cream blouse, stood Thalia. I snatched my hand away from James’ like I’d touched the hob. James struggled to his feet as Thalia tottered into the room, looking down at us, her height made more impressive by four-inch Louboutins.

‘Cosy,’ she sniffed.

I laughed, one ‘ha’: horribly forced. James had taken off his hat and I hastily brushed confetti pieces off my jumper into my hand, feeling foolish, seeing the scene through her eyes. Caroline remained sitting on her cushion, openly put out that the party appeared to have had its moment. She offered Thalia some cake.

Thalia replied, ‘Wheat free,’ and tapped her stomach, which made Caroline place a hand on hers protectively.

‘Er, this is a surprise,’ James cut across.

‘I just came to wish you a happy birthday.’ She smiled: it didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Shall we?’ she motioned with her head to his office and James took a moment to follow her train of thought.

‘Yes, okay.’ He turned around. ‘Caroline, Nic, thank you for the impromptu birthday party.’ He dabbed at the corner of his mouth, missing a chocolate smear that Thalia then reached out and wiped for him with her forefinger. James took a step back. The intimate gesture made the edges of my mouth turn down. They disappeared into his office. Caroline looked at me, head on one side as she searched my face. She didn’t say anything, just got up and started to clear away the empty mugs. I busily flicked the crumbs from my skirt with a piece of kitchen roll, feeling foolish that there was a lump in my throat.

Thalia left shortly after she arrived, a brief grunt of goodbye at Caroline, who rolled her eyes a fraction at me as we listened to her descending the stairs outside the office. Too kind to comment, Caroline continued to help me arrange auditions for a new voiceover campaign, sending over clips to the company and ensuring our artists were booked in and given all the right details. It was busy and the bustle and action worked as a distraction. Then Caroline received a call that made her face fall. She spoke into the phone. ‘No, well, you better, no, it’ll be too late for that, no, no he’s working now. I’ll come, they can wait here for me. No that’s fine. Okay, okay, thanks.’

She groaned as she put the receiver back. ‘Childminders are the bane of my life,’ she tutted. ‘Nic, would you mind? I’ve got two abandoned children this afternoon and a whole heap of work to get through. Can we bring them in here? They’ll be good. I’ll promise them McDonald’s and doughnuts for dinner.’

I waved a hand. ‘Of course,’ I said, pressing ‘Send’ on an email and looking back to the screen. ‘It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.’

Caroline grabbed her keys from her desk. ‘Great, I’ll go and get them now. Could you tell James? He’s less likely to shout at you.’

‘I’m less likely to do what?’ A voice came from the office. ‘Who is using my name in vain, Caroline Walker?’

‘Nic will explain,’ she called back to him, zipping out of the office door and down the stairs before I had a chance to refuse.

I sighed and got up, pushing open the door to James’ office. ‘She’s had a babysitter crisis and is bringing the kids in,’ I explained, turning to leave.

‘Nic … Nicola,’ he called after me. I looked back at him. He had a pen mark on his left cheek and his hair was a little dishevelled. ‘Thank you for this morning. It was sweet of you both and I’m sorry that, well, I’m sor—’

I cut him off. ‘It was Caroline,’ I explained, voice abrupt. I regretted the tone the moment I saw his face fall a fraction.

‘Yes, right. Anyway, it was a lovely thought and I just wanted to thank you.’

I replied in a quieter tone. ‘That’s fine, of course. Happy Birthday.’

He lifted a little out of his seat as if he was going to come over to me but just as quickly seemed to change his mind.

‘You know, Nicola, I think you might have the wrong idea about Tha—’

‘—I need to get on and work,’ I said, feeling silly, trying to regain the upper hand, behave professionally.

‘Yes, right. I have lots of work,’ he said, shuffling papers about.

I nodded at him curtly. ‘Best get on.’

Ben and Alice arrived in a whirlwind half an hour later. Caroline, climbing the stairs outside, called instructions of ‘calm’ as they rushed ahead. Ben ran over to my desk, grinning at me, and held something towards me.

Caroline appeared in the doorway, puffing and dabbing at her forehead as she entered the room, ‘Oh, this is going to be chaos, isn’t it?’

Alice was already upending the wastepaper basket. Caroline scooped her up and plonked her on her office chair to spin.

‘Come on, monkey,’ she said, making Alice squeal as the chair spun.

Ben was still holding up a little wooden item, a hexagonal-shaped piece of wood with legs.

‘He wanted to show you his cake stand,’ Caroline explained, laughing. ‘He made it at school and I told him you’d been doing carpentry too.’ She turned to Ben. ‘What did I tell you Nic made us in her class?’

‘A tray,’ Ben half-shouted.

‘Don’t shout, Ben. Do you want to see it?’ she asked.

‘Yee harrrrrr,’ he replied, which Caroline took to mean ‘Yes, Mother.’

‘I’ll get it,’ I laughed, pushing back my chair and already feeling a million times lighter as I took Ben’s stand from him and examined it. ‘Ben, this is really good,’ I said, ‘I love the way you’ve nailed the legs on.’

Ben grinned like he might burst.

I brought back the tray and he took hold of it with both hands, really carefully, like it might fall to pieces in his hands. ‘Cool,’ he said. Then he put it on the floor, loaded all his cars onto it and carried it around the room, nose in the air, like a butler.

Alice suddenly appeared at my side and was holding both her hands up to me.

‘She wants you to pick her up, Nic,’ said Caroline, looking at me a little nervously.

‘Oh,’ I said, startled. Then, without really thinking, bent down and picked Alice up, returning to my desk to sit with her on my lap. She was lighter than I expected and up close her skin was so smooth I nearly asked her what moisturiser she used. Then I remembered she was three years old and that that was the answer. I’d never liked being around children before but this was easy. It was nice. Alice sat quietly on my lap and I tapped out an email, talking her through the very boring job I was doing. She seemed happy to sit there and Caroline and I actually managed to achieve something, if only for a few minutes. Ben rolled his cars around the floor, seeming very focused on lining them all up into ‘one long traffic jam’.

‘That’s nice,’ Caroline muttered in response. ‘It looks just like the M5, darling, well done.’

Ben beamed and proceeded to make the queue longer.

Alice got bored and turned to look at me. She put both hands on either side of my face and squashed together. I puffed my cheeks out.

‘You’re very pretty,’ she announced.

I felt my cheeks getting hot under her little hands before she released them. ‘Thank you, Alice. You’re very pretty too,’ I said.

‘Can you brush my hair?’ she asked, running to grab a small hairbrush from Caroline’s bag.

‘I suppose so,’ I replied, taking the brush from her and slowly dragging it through her fine, strawberry-blonde hair.

James emerged from the office at just that moment and practically tripped over the M5 tailback. ‘Whoa there,’ he said, bending down to look at what Ben was doing.

‘It’s a traffic jam.’ Ben grinned proudly.

‘It certainly is,’ agreed James, ‘like on a Bank Holiday.’

Ben nodded.

James gave him a high-five and then stood up, looking over at me with Alice on my lap.

‘She’s pretty,’ Alice repeated pointing at me and looking at James.

‘She is, isn’t she,’ agreed James.

I squirmed in my seat but couldn’t turn away as I was pinned down by Alice.
Focus on the hair brushing
, I thought, feeling my whole body get hotter under the scrutiny. When I took a peek back up, James was still looking right at me, a small smile on his face.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Walking home at the end of the day, I thought about dinner. Lightly buttered asparagus with some Parma ham, a hot slab of ciabatta, maybe some melted Camembert for dipping. Before I started salivating onto the pavement, I fished in my bag for a stick of chewing gum, rooting around past stray receipts, loose coins and kirby grips. When did my handbag get this messy? How had I not noticed? My hand lighted on the gum and I pulled it out triumphantly. I was about to put it into my mouth when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I yelped and spun round, holding the gum out like a weapon. My attacker looked at me coolly and I nearly dropped the gum in surprise.

‘Thalia,’ I said, the shock apparent in my voice.

‘It’s Nicola, isn’t it?’

I frowned, questions swimming around my mind. ‘Can I help?’ I asked, noticing her usually tanned face looked paler than usual, and that her eyes, normally carefully ringed with kohl, were a little red-rimmed. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I wanted to talk to you,’ she stated.

‘Okay.’

‘There’s no need to be sarcastic,’ she snapped.

My mouth clamped up. I hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic. I felt a stirring of annoyance. What did she want? Couldn’t she take her glossy, Armani-clad body off and get out of here? I had lightly buttered asparagus to eat. I was definitely going to have the Camembert. I waited for her to say something else, both of us standing on the street as commuters steered round us.