Love Me Or Leave Me (30 page)

‘The young girl with the long red hair and Arson Boy?’ he asks, catching me completely off guard.

‘That’s them.’

‘So what do you think went wrong there?’ he asks, looking at me keenly.

‘Well, they married far too young for a start. But … without breaking a confidence, there’s a helluva lot more to it than that.’

‘When it comes to relationships, there always is, at least in my experience. So come on, fill me in.’ Then with a wry smile, he adds, ‘After all, if they’re about to start ripping up furniture under my roof, I think I’ve a right to know.’

‘You mean … you’re not annoyed, because I should have spotted long before they even checked in here that they possibly weren’t suitable?’

‘You think I’m here to haul you over the coals for not being a mind-reader?’

‘Emm … well …’

And suddenly he’s grinning again.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Chloe, come on. If there’s a human being alive who has the ability to X-ray the exact state of any couple’s relationship at any given time, then I’d really love to meet them. So come on then, back to Dawn and Arson Boy. Tell me more.’

I have to take a second for a quick sigh of relief, before answering.

‘Well,’ I think, choosing my words carefully on account of I gave Dawn my word I’d keep the real truth of it to myself. ‘She did tell me Kirk’s been having an ongoing affair and apparently it’s not one he’s any intention of giving up anytime soon.’

Rob shakes his head.

‘But if that’s the case, then rough and all as that is for her, surely she’d at least be glad to get rid of him? Better all round in the long run, wouldn’t you say?’

I just nod, but say nothing. Because there’s much more to it than that, considerably more. But I gave my word to say no more, so I won’t, simple as that. To be brutally honest though and particularly in light of last night’s shenanigans, I’m not all that bothered about what’ll become of Kirk, but I do so badly want a happy ending for Dawn. The girl deserves no less, after the horrors she’s been through.

Then I fill Rob in about Jo and Dave too and how Dave was almost battering her door down, the minute he’d got a lorry load of drinks into him.

‘So why do you think that one went belly-up, then?’ Rob asks me directly, all interested.

‘Well, that’s a bit of a mystery, to be honest. Jo hinted to me that she’s having a lot of medical issues at the minute, but she stopped short of saying any more. She just said everyone assumed she was to blame but that there was a whole other side to her story.’

‘Always is,’ he says, nodding. ‘Certainly in my experience.’ Then, bagel finished, he sits right back against the bench and faces the sun, like a man with all the time in the world to sit here and lap up every UV ray going. ‘Though you said you’d three couples giving you a headache? Come on, tell me more. Who’s the third?’

So I fill him in about Lucy’s antics the previous evening and he just nods.

‘The tall blonde?’

‘That’s her.’ But then in all fairness, Lucy’s hard to miss. ‘And to be honest, they’re the one couple staying with us who I figured would find the whole process relatively straightforward. Andrew, that’s her ex, is so protective of her, you just wouldn’t believe it. His only concern after I’d finally got her to bed last night was that she’d be okay.’

But again though, some instinct tells me that there’s an awful lot more to Lucy and Andrew’s break-up than meets the eye. What though? Try as I might, I just can’t fathom it. When we first met, Lucy mentioned it was something to do with his adult kids having a lot to do with it, and yet what could they have done to bring this about?

A pause, while Rob stretches out on the bench a bit more, luxuriating in the morning sunshine.

‘Exes,’ he eventually says, shaking his head a bit. ‘We all have them, don’t we? And as the saying goes, there’s always three sides to every story. Your side, the other person’s side and then usually somewhere in the middle, there’s the truth. So I’ve always found at least.’

I take a sip of coffee, while he just stares off into the middle distance, miles away.

‘And were you ever married?’ I ask him eventually. I don’t even know why, the moment just sort of feels right. He doesn’t wear a wedding ring and even with all the press his work generates, I don’t ever remember reading any mention of a wife.

‘No,’ he says. ‘At least, not yet.’

I nod and turn away to disguise a smile, remembering back to when he was here a few weeks ago. Rob taking a very personal phone call and littering the chat with ‘love’ and ‘darling’ and ‘can’t wait to see you!’

Stands to reason really, I figure. A catch like this fella? Rich, successful and attractive? I mean, as long as you could handle all the constant globe-hopping and the mobile ringing day and night, you’d be well and truly laughing. Whoever his mystery lady is though, I’d safely hazard a guess that now she has her claws in him, she ain’t about to quit anytime soon.

‘Course I don’t need to ask whether you’ve ever been married or not,’ he says, turning his head towards me and looking at me keenly now, the grey eyes focused directly on me.

‘Why’s that?’ I say defensively, caught completely off guard.

‘Chloe, it’s okay,’ he says simply. ‘I know.’

And after the relaxed, easy chat we’d been having, suddenly it’s like no air moves between us.

‘You do?’ I say, sounding a lot more staccato than I’d have liked.

‘When I interviewed you first, remember? It struck me as odd that you’d left the Merrion Hotel as abruptly as you did, two years ago. You’d impressed me and I was pretty certain I wanted to hire you, but I needed to run a background check on you first, just to make sure you weren’t the type to leave me high and dry. So I made a few phone calls over to the Merrion …’

He doesn’t need to say another word though. I can see it written all over his face. No doubt my manager there told him everything. About my aborted fiasco of a wedding day. The whole reason why I hightailed it to London in the first place and only called my old boss to explain once I’d safely got there. And yet how understanding they’d all been. Particularly when I explained that there was just no way on earth I could ever show my face in this town again. Not after what I’d been through, and certainly not after the ultimate humiliation.

And now, here I am, back again, surrounded by broken hearts that make what I went through almost pale into insignificance.

‘Oh,’ is all I can manage to get out though, suddenly aware that I’m flushing to my roots. ‘That.’

‘Of course your personal life is absolutely none of my business,’ Rob says, ‘but back when I first interviewed you, you told me that if anyone was qualified to run a hotel where broken-hearted people came to fix themselves, to put their lives back together and move on, then you were the girl.’

‘I remember.’

‘I really saw something in you that day, Chloe,’ he goes on, surprising me by actually sounding quite gentle now. A million miles from his usual brisk, businesslike self. ‘I knew that if I was looking for the kind of woman well qualified to try and fix other couples, then you were certainly the perfect person for the job. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing fine work here and I know you won’t let me down.’

Our eyes lock for a moment and somehow I don’t know what to say to him. I’m touched and staggered and overwhelmed all at the same time.

‘I’ll certainly give it a try,’ I manage to say, wrapped in thought at just how wrongly pegged I had this guy. And how the public Rob and the actual guy himself seem so completely different.

‘Do you mind my asking you something personal?’ he goes on.

‘Of course not.’ Jeez, I think, we’re chatting about so many personal things right now, sure what’s left?

‘That ex of yours. Now that you’re back on your home turf, ever hear from him?’

Frank. And suddenly I think back. The flowers. That ludicrously overpriced bouquet that landed in here yesterday to wish me luck. Frank’s suggestion that he and I ‘might meet up soon’.

What with all last night’s shenanigans, I’d managed to completely blank it out, but now it’s back fresh and uppermost in my mind. And the killer is, it still has the power to stab a little. Even after all this time. Unbe-fecking-lievable.

‘Yes, as it happens,’ I tell Rob, looking straight ahead of me. There’s a father in the distance who’s teaching his son how to ride a bike without stabilizers. Poor kid keeps falling off, but his Dad is encouraging him to persist, saying he’s almost there and it’ll be well worth it in the end.

‘Yes, just yesterday, would you believe. Frank got in touch to wish me luck.’

‘That’s his name? Frank?’

‘Yup.’

‘I see,’ and suddenly Rob’s face is back to being all blank and unreadable.

Another lengthy pause and after such an unexpected heart to heart between us, all of a sudden, it seems not much else needs to be said, so I stand up and busy myself clearing away wrappers and paper coffee cups. He jumps to his feet and helps me, but then, just as we’re both heading back towards Hope Street, he stops me in my tracks.

‘But just for what it’s worth, Chloe?’ he says, looking right at me now.

‘Yeah?’

‘What that Frank guy did to you on your wedding day? No offence, but what a total arse.’

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lucy.

A ‘conflict resolution’ meeting, that was where Lucy now found herself, if you could even believe it. Nine in the morning, and here she was, hung-over as a dog and feeling as though she’d rather have hurled herself out the window rather than have to face into this right now, this morning. Alongside Andrew, to make matters even worse.

He was sitting in an armchair just opposite her, but the few sneaky glances Lucy had stolen over in his direction had frankly made her worry a bit. Because he didn’t look one bit well, not his usual tanned, vigorous looking self at all. He was wearing a green cashmere jumper she’d given him a few years ago, one she usually loved on him; it brought out the colour of his eyes so perfectly. But today, he just looked pale and strained, which was so unlike him. Did he hate this just as much as she did, she wondered?

Bloody hard to imagine otherwise.

‘Now, here’s what I’d like you both to do for me,’ a lovely, smiley women with a sweet face called Kate said, crossing her legs and putting aside a very authoritative looking notepad for the moment. ‘As an exercise, I’d like you to tell me all of the things that you still love and respect about each other. Each other’s best qualities. The things that made you both fall in love and marry in the first place. Just tell me, stream of consciousness. Let’s start from there and then we can move forward. So, who’d like to kick things off?’

‘Ladies first,’ said Andrew politely, giving Lucy a tiny nod.

‘Each other’s
good
qualities?’ Lucy blurted out. ‘Did I just hear you right? Because believe me, that’s not what I thought we were here to talk about. Andrew’s good qualities aren’t and never were the issue here!’

‘Trust me Lucy,’ Kate persisted. ‘Remember, conflict resolution is a process. Not just a Band-Aid temporary measure.’

‘Oh. Well … okay then, if you insist,’ she said reluctantly, aware that Andrew’s eyes were full on her. So she forced herself to sit back against the plush leather couch, stare out the window and take a nice deep, soothing breath.

Shite anyway
. She’d have been so much more comfortable talking about what his bloody family had put them through. Why couldn’t they have started off with that? You wouldn’t have been able to shut her up on that particular topic. Each other’s good qualities, my arse, she sighed.

‘And try to relax,’ Kate added encouragingly.

Relax? That was a right laugh. Lucy had never felt like such a ball of tension in her life. And having to go through all this conflict resolution malarkey wasn’t made easier by the fact she’d been on the bender to end all benders down in the bar the previous night. So now of course, she just felt muggy-headed, tired and in absolutely no bloody humour for any kind of deep probing. The bright lights overhead were actually stinging her eyes and half of her wondered if it would be rude to go through this whole session with her sunglasses on. Would that make her look a bit like a Soprano?

‘Anytime you’re ready, Lucy,’ Kate smiled patiently.

‘Well … up until … what happened recently …’ she began tentatively, trying to pick her words. But no sooner had she started than she’d had to break off to reach for the glass of water that was thoughtfully placed in front of her when they’d first arrived.

No choice. This was a lot harder than she could ever have imagined.

‘Sorry, Kate,’ she suddenly broke off. ‘But do you mind if I take a few paracetamol?’

‘Of course not. Are you feeling okay?’

‘Migraine,’ she lied, whipping a strip of painkillers out of her handbag and gulping back two.

She caught Andrew’s eye and because he knew right well what was really wrong with her, she felt a flush of gratitude towards him for not saying anything.

‘Ready now?’ Kate gently prompted.

‘Yeah. Well … Andrew is … that is … well, he certainly was – at least back in our early days –’

But she had to struggle a bit, to find the right words here. Tough sentence that particular one, to have to finish without choking up. Mainly because when Andrew had been good, God, but he’d been amazing.

All kinds of memories started to resurface. How thoughtful he was in small ways. How kind he’d always been to her mother and all her family. Even insisted on whisking her Mum off to Marbella on holiday with them twice a year, knowing the poor woman would never have been able to afford it otherwise.

But then, Lucy’s family were what his side would snobbishly have called blue collar, compared with someone as classy as Andrew. Yet it was touching how hard he’d worked to try and fit in with them all. He was forever inviting the whole lot of them round for dinner, or else hosting her entire extended family – seventeen of them in total, in-laws included – at expensive restaurants in town. Then he’d discreetly take care of the bill when no one was watching, so as not to embarrass anyone.