If You're Not the One (17 page)

January 2000

At long last the most anticipated New Year's Eve in history was finally out of the way and Jennifer couldn't have been happier. It was enormously comforting to know she'd never be required to suffer the question ‘what are you doing for the millennium' ever again. Well, not unless she planned on living for another thousand years. And in the unlikely event she did, at least by that point she'd be perfectly within her rights to answer, ‘Nothing. I'm not doing anything. I don't get out much these days because by rights I should be
dead.'

The pressure to do something ‘amaaazing' had bored the pants off her. At work, what everyone was going to ‘do' for the big night had been all anyone could talk about for months. Inevitably of course there had been a handful of smug people with bigger pay packets than her who had been able to say things like ‘We're off to the Pyrenees', or ‘I'm going dolphin watching in San Diego' and even ‘we're just going to a small bash for five thousand, in
Paris, with fireworks'. It goes without saying that these people didn't just earn more than her but also must have been stupidly organised. She and Karen hadn't been able to find even a local restaurant for them and their friends to go to, that wasn't either fully booked or extortionate, so as far as they could work out this lot must have booked these ‘experiences of a lifetime' events when they were toddlers.

In the end, Pete and Karen had hosted the night at theirs. Dinner for twelve with lots of music and, if that had been that, it might have been a pretty enjoyable evening. As it was however, some bright spark had thought it would be a good idea to splash out on a couple of grams of cocaine, given the hugeness of the occasion. Only it was cut with laxative, so all taking it really achieved was to make everybody in desperate need for the toilet. Unsurprisingly it wasn't long before the evening had taken a slightly grim turn for the worse. The bathroom had been permanently occupied, either because people were inside talking incoherent babble while preparing to shove some more powder up their noses or, because they were about to soil themselves. At times there'd even been a queue. Those who finally made it into the bathroom, after a buttock clenching wait, ventured out again looking sheepish and despite it being minus five outside, the window was required to remain open for the entirety of the evening. Not massively pleasant.

Karen had invited Pete's cousin David to the dinner,
purely so she could try and match-make him with Jennifer. David was relatively good looking but had been excruciatingly dull even before he'd got a line of crap cocaine up his nose. Mainly due to the drugs, his mouth had gone incredibly dry (unlike his sense of humour), to the extent that his tongue kept getting stuck to the roof of his mouth as he talked. Only to Jennifer's horrified fascination, instead of deciding that talking therefore probably wasn't worth the effort, he'd battled on regardless, waffling away and only trying to combat his startlingly bad dry mouth by glugging back litres of red wine. This did nothing to solve the problem but everything to ensure that over time his teeth were stained red and his breath became properly vile. Jennifer would honestly rather have slept with a member of her immediate family than have sex with David.

The final nail in that possible date coffin was delivered once and for all, hard and severely, when he proceeded to talk at length about how reUNIon was such a great invention and how his sister had reunited with her now fiancée on it…

By this stage Jennifer was seriously considering getting a cab home despite the fact it wasn't even midnight yet.

The next morning she woke up to the first day of the new millennium feeling not only hung-over and rancid, but also horribly anxious. Dumping Tim may have been
a huge mistake. For a start she hadn't met anybody else even remotely worth seeing since they'd split up and to make matters far worse, he was now a bloody millionaire, a fact that seemed to be rammed down her throat wherever she went.

Deep down she knew she'd done the ‘right' thing because she didn't really miss him. However, what she worried about was that if no one else came along she might always regret leaving him. Ending up with a clever, multi-millionaire would have been far better than nothing.

On the upside, the millennium New Year was over and for that she was both grateful and relieved.

So frankly the greyness and general frugality of January was very welcome, until Wednesday 7
^th
January when her boiler broke down. And then it was just shit.

‘Coming,' called Jennifer, rushing to answer the door, wishing she had slippers on as the floor tiles were so cold underfoot, even with tights on. Her tiny one bedroom flat in Tooting, which was hers and hers alone, and therefore a space she usually adored, was completely freezing. Last night she'd slept in a tracksuit and a coat but when she'd woken up, her nose, the only thing that hadn't been submerged under the covers, had been cold like a dog's. Unable to have a hot shower, her hair resembled a bird's
nest and was far greasier than she'd normally ever allow it to be. Getting ready for work this morning she'd tried to solve this dilemma by scraping it all back into a ponytail and had compensated with extra make-up, which on her pale, winter-worn face, made her look a bit like a drag queen. She was cold to the bone and simply couldn't warm up.

‘Hi,' said the affable looking plumber, who was standing on her doorstep and who was hopefully going to be the answer to her prayers.

‘Oh my gosh, thank you so much for coming. I'm literally desperate,' she said, pulling her coat even further around her. Underneath she was wearing a suit, ready for the day ahead. ‘I don't suppose there's any chance you could have it fixed sooner rather than later, it's just I've actually got a massive day at work and should really be there right now but didn't think I could cope returning to this ice block again.'

‘Er, well, give us a chance to at least have a look at what's happening and I'll let you know. But if I can, I shall get it sorted for you asap.'

He had an Essex accent.

‘Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, you must think I'm insane. I think the cold may have actually frozen my brain.' said Jennifer, standing back to let him in, a good start in terms of him being able to fix anything. ‘Then again I may have just got confused because I think it might actually be warmer outside than it is in here.'

‘No worries,' said the plumber politely.

‘Sorry, I'm Jennifer,' she said, starting again.

‘Pleased to meet you, I'm Steve.'

Forty-five minutes later and the boiler had clunked into action, hot water was swooshing round the pipes and Jennifer was free to escape to work, unwashed, but confident that when she returned she wouldn't have to sleep in a coat.

‘Thank you so much,' she gushed.

‘No worries,' said Steve. ‘Glad I could get it sorted and thanks for the tea.'

She was struck by what a nice face he had. During all the time they'd been chatting away, he'd been on his knees half inside the cupboard where the boiler lived so all she'd really been able to examine so far had been his backside. It was a nice backside but it was rather heart-warming to discover that he had a face to match. It was an open face which wasn't dazzlingly good looking but was really pleasant. He had a good even smile and blue eyes. He smiled back at her. ‘So, you off to work now then, you said you're in marketing but what does that actually involve?'

‘Er, well, basically it's all about identifying who your customer is, then creating value for them and making sure you keep them,' said Jennifer. She really did have to get going, so went to get her bag so she could write Steve a cheque and leave.

‘Yeah I know that,' he said, rolling his eyes. ‘What do you take me for? What I mean is who do you do marketing for? Or, if you like, who's your market?'

‘Oh right,' she said, surprised. She grinned at him, though as she did, her teeth almost chattered together she was still so cold. She honestly felt like she might never be warm again.

‘Big questions,' she said, deflecting them, mainly because she was in a rush and her mind at this point was now fully focused on the meeting she desperately needed to get to.

‘Sorry. You've got to go haven't you?' he said, taking the hint.

‘I do I'm afraid,' she replied, rooting around in her bag until she finally came across a biro at the bottom. ‘How much is that then?'

‘Eighty,' said Steve.

‘O-K,' said Jennifer, trying to mask her disappointment as she scribbled down the amount. There was no way she'd be getting the shoes she'd been lusting after this month. She should have been a plumber. She ripped the cheque out and handed it over.

‘Thanks a lot. So anyway, sorry, because I know you're in a rush but I don't suppose, and I promise I never usually do this, but do you fancy going for a drink one night?' asked Steve suddenly. As Jennifer looked up to check she'd heard right his cheeks flamed red. ‘And I promise, no more dull questions about work.'

‘Er…I don't know,' replied Jennifer honestly.

‘OK, no worries, I shouldn't have put you on the spot,' said Steve, turning away and bending back down to rummage in his tool bag as if he suddenly needed to find something when really he was obviously just masking his embarrassment.

Jennifer regarded him. He seemed like a perfectly decent bloke and he had just fixed her boiler. Plus, who else did she think she had lined up exactly? Pete's cousin David? Her last meaningful relationship had been with Tim and that had ended over two years ago. She'd had a couple of terrible dates, thanks to being forced by Karen to give online dating a go, and a one-night stand she could hardly bear to think about it had been so unbearably clunky.

So why would she now turn down a date with a man who had all his own teeth, four limbs, was seemingly nice and who had just saved her, definitely from hypothermia, if not death by frostbite? Was she insane?

‘Actually…I'd love to go for a drink,' she said shyly.

‘Really?' He looked pleasingly delighted and flashed her a wide grin.

‘Yeah,' she grinned back. His smile was infectious. He had lovely teeth.

‘Great, that's really good then,' he said. ‘OK, well I've got your number, I'll give you a call and perhaps we could go for dinner after or something?'

‘That would be very nice,' she said. They both stood
there, still grinning but now also feeling mildly awkward.

‘So…anyway…' she said, reaching for the front door at the exact same time he did.

‘Oh sorry,' he said.

‘No, no, after you,' she said as he went to grab his tool-bag, realising they were now going to have to cope with leaving the flat at the same time and therefore continuing the conversation even though really it was clearly time for it to end.

Feeling gauche they shuffled out of the door together.

‘OK, well I'll see you soon then,' said Steve once they were both outside and Jennifer had locked the door behind her. ‘I'm just going this way, to the van.'

‘Oh…er right,' said Jennifer, now wondering whether to pretend she was headed the other way but knowing it would only make her even more late ‘Um…I'm going that way too actually, towards the tube.'

‘Oh cool,' he said, his face colouring a little.

They ended up strolling down the road, together but not, both smiling manfully despite the awkwardness of the situation. Eventually Jennifer decided to do them both a favour by saying something. ‘So where do you live then, Steve?' she said at the precise moment he decided to say, ‘Well, this is me, my van's parked here.'

Their sentences collided awkwardly.

‘Oh right…well…not to worry then,' said Jennifer, cringing and feeling unbelievably self-conscious by this
point yet also really hoping he would definitely ring her. There was something about him that appealed to her more and more by the second.

‘At the moment I'm staying with a mate in Mitcham though…'

‘Oh great, not too far then I suppose,' she said. ‘O-K …well…see you. Give me a ring.'

‘Will do,' he said watching her go up the street. And although he knew it hadn't been the smoothest of meetings and that he wasn't going to win any points for his chatting up technique, Steve drove away feeling chuffed and had a little spring in his step for the rest of the day. You see, underneath all that make-up and that huge coat he could tell that Jennifer Drew was cute. More than cute. She was gorgeous. His cup of tea. Strong and sweet.

‘Jen, I don't know if you can hear me, but it's me, Max…'

Jennifer waited for him to continue but when silence followed she assumed she'd imagined what she thought she'd just heard. But then he spoke again.

‘….anyway, the doctor's think it's worth a go. Talking to you that is, so I'm going to sit and chat anyway, just in case.'

It was strange. She kind of understood what he was saying on the surface and yet at the same time it was as if he were speaking a foreign language. She strongly suspected her brain couldn't really cope with the task of listening and understanding at the same time. Instead the words were just noise really.

‘We're all really missing you. It's very quiet at home without you. The girls are fine. They know Mummy's having a long sleep and they say a little prayer for you every night. I'm keeping close tabs on them and the school have been brilliant actually, especially Miss Kelly who's really been keeping an eye on Pol. So that's all OK.
Think they might be getting a bit fed up with my cooking though…'

Max's voice cracked and he stopped talking for a moment, though Jennifer had no clue that the pause was necessary so he could regain his composure. She was still numb to reality. He cleared his throat.

‘For that matter I am too. Anyway, I've brought a paper with me so I thought I might just read some of it out to you.'

But Jennifer had tuned out again; had slipped back to where she'd come from, with intent, for the last time she'd emerged from a portal she'd noticed that the one to the left, the one marked Aidan was growing faint. She'd had a strong inkling at the time that if she wanted to find out anything else from that parallel universe that she'd have to do it quickly, while it still existed. She'd even considered what might happen if it closed while she was inside. Would she be trapped? Would she remain Jennifer from that life forever? She hoped that wasn't a possibility. There was nothing about that life that made her feel proud or happy particularly. Had she gone with Aidan it seemed she'd have had a forlorn existence compared to the one she enjoyed with Max. In her real life she'd got her education, stayed in touch with her friends and family and ultimately gone on to create a safe, secure and largely happy family unit of her own. In the world of Aidan she
felt sorry for Nathan. Sorry for her own son. The son she might have had…

As the drop began she was suddenly desperate to know that there was some form of resolution, if not for her then for the boy. He needed his extended family she decided. Not just a worn-out mum and a lazy, workshy dad.

She arrived. The portal was weaker than ever and as she glided towards it she felt more nervous than she had about anything in the whole of her thirty-eight years.