The Accidental Proposal (37 page)

‘Jesus, Dan. For someone who’s been out with as many women as you have, you don’t actually know a lot about how we really work.’

‘Which is why I need your help,’ pleads Dan.

Wendy looks at him levelly for a moment or two. ‘Okay. Well, as far as we’re concerned, you need to let us know you’re interested in us. Does Polly have any idea?’

‘I dunno.’

‘When was the last time you saw her?’

Dan shrugs. ‘About a year ago. I went to say sorry. For the way I treated her.’

‘And?’

‘And nothing. We had lunch, she had a boyfriend. So I left it at that.’

‘And you haven’t seen her since?’

Dan shakes his head. ‘What was the point? She was with someone else, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her happiness.’

Wendy makes a face that could mean she’s either surprised or impressed, either of which would be a rarity as far as she and Dan are concerned. ‘That was very caring of you, Dan. And now?’

‘She’s coming to old numb nuts’ wedding tomorrow,’ he says, nodding towards me. ‘On her own. Which would indicate she’s single again. So how do I, you know, get her interested?’

‘You need to make her feel like she’s the only girl in the world,’ says Wendy. ‘For you, I mean.’

‘Right.’ Dan nods thoughtfully. ‘So, if I tell her that I could have any woman I wanted, but in fact I want her, she’s bound to be a pushover?’

Wendy stares at him in disbelief. ‘Quite the opposite. I mean, she has to feel that as far as you’re concerned, there aren’t any other women in the world.’

‘But there are.’

‘No there aren’t.’

‘But . . . Ow.’

‘Sorry, Dan,’ I say, as he scowls at me for poking him with my cue again, although with the pointy end this time. ‘But I’m supposed to be getting married tomorrow afternoon, and I didn’t want to be late.’

‘Think about it,’ says Wendy. ‘The moment you let someone know you’re interested in them, it’s really flattering, and they look at you in a new light. So for you to be telling them that not only are you interested in them, but you’re prepared to forsake everyone else . . .’

‘And how do I do that, exactly?’

Wendy shrugs. ‘Make a big gesture, maybe.’

‘But I am making a big gesture. By giving up all other women.’

‘What I mean is, make a big gesture that she’ll appreciate.’

‘Well, if she doesn’t appreciate something like that, then . . . Ow.’

As Dan recoils from where Wendy’s hit him this time, she smiles. ‘Dan, Polly doesn’t want to think you’re making some sort of sacrifice by being with her, or you’re doing her a favour. She needs you to make her feel you’re lucky to have her. Not the other way round.’

Dan inches out of arm’s – and cue’s – reach, and thinks about this for a second or two. ‘So, let me get this straight. In order to convince her I’m worth taking a chance on, I’ve actually got to get her to believe I think she’s the only girl in the world for me.’

I sit down next to Wendy. ‘By Jove, I think he’s got it.’

‘But isn’t that rather, well, desperate?’

Wendy nods. ‘Of course it is. We need to see you’re helpless. Because then we know we’ve got you where we want you. Desperate, Dan.’

‘Very funny.’

‘She doesn’t want to be holding the tiger by the tail,’ continues Wendy. ‘In fact,
she
should be the tiger. And she wants to see you value her highly, and appreciate the sacrifice
she’s
making.’

Dan makes a face. ‘What sacrifice is she making, exactly?’

Wendy raises one eyebrow. ‘Where do you want me to start? And this is all the more important because you’ve got history. I mean, you ran out on her once before, don’t forget.’

‘Yes, well that was a mistake.’

‘You know that now,’ I say. ‘And actually, telling her that might just give you a chance to win her back.’

‘No, an
actual
mistake,’ says Dan. ‘I think I might have got the wrong end of the stick, and by the time I realized that, it was too late.’ He puts an arm round my shoulder. ‘You see, Ed? It happens to the best of us. Anyway, thank you, Wendy. I’ll give what you’ve said some thought.’

Wendy peers back at him, unused to this kind of reaction. ‘You’re, er, welcome,’ she says, jumping off her stool and making her way back towards the bar.

As Dan watches her go, I nudge him out of the way, then walk round to where the white ball is and lean down to line up my next shot. ‘And just remember how lucky you are.’

‘Lucky?’ Dan stares at me across the table. ‘How do you mean, lucky?’

‘Not everyone gets a second chance. This is yours. So don’t mess it up.’

‘I won’t. I’ve been to a thousand auditions. I know what to do.’

‘But was the part ever this important?’

As Dan sniggers at the word “part”, I draw my cue back, then hit the white ball down towards the far end of the table, where the eight-ball is perched precariously over the pocket.

‘Missed,’ says Dan.

‘Not so fast,’ I say, as the cue ball bounces off the far cushion, does the same off the one closest to me, before making its way back towards where I was originally aiming. ‘I think I might get it on the rebound.’

And as the eight-ball drops into the pocket, I can tell that Dan is hoping for the same thing tomorrow.

6.21 a.m.

When I wake up on Dan’s sofa after a restless night’s sleep, the first thing I think about is the goodbye kiss Sam planted on my lips yesterday, and wonder whether the next thing she’ll plant on me will be a right hook. I still haven’t worked out how, when, or even what to tell her, but with the two of us due at the registry office in just under ten hours, I’d better think of something, and fast.

My gut feeling is that I am going to have to come clean before the wedding, but when I think about what her reaction is likely to be, my other gut feeling is extreme nausea.

7.44 a.m.

I’m on my second cup of coffee, staring at the hand-written notice Dan Sellotaped to his bedroom door last night that says ‘keep out’, wondering when’s safe to wake him. To be honest, I’m tempted to let him have a lie in, because while he’s the last person to need any beauty sleep, what he is going to need if he wants to win Polly back are his wits about him this afternoon. Even if the wedding turns into a disaster, there might as well be one happy ending today.

11.12 a.m.

Dan and I are back in the Admiral Jim for something to calm our nerves. On his insistence, we’ve called in at the local oriental supermarket on the way here to try and find some
“Thai cheese”, which Dan says he’s heard is good for relaxation, despite me and the chap behind the counter insisting that Dan must mean Tai Chi.

In spite of this amusing interlude, I’m still not sure I can go through with the wedding, and Dan is trying to help in his own way, but as usual, Dan’s way isn’t mine.

‘Listen,’ he says, sitting down at the bar next to me. ‘If you want my advice, just put it down to experience. Brush it under the carpet and move on. If anything happened at all, it was a mistake, that’s all. An accident, even.’

‘That’s easy for you to say. You weren’t the one driving.’

‘No,’ says Dan. ‘But neither were you, by the sound of things.’

‘Don’t you see? That makes it worse.’

By the look on his face, Dan evidently doesn’t think so. ‘I still don’t see why you’re so hung up about it.’

‘Because I don’t want to hurt Sam.’

‘So don’t. By not telling her.’ Dan waves to Wendy, and indicates our empty glasses. ‘Besides, remember you’re worried about something you’re not actually sure you did.’

‘Yes, but what if I
did
, and she finds out.’

‘Finds out? You haven’t been able to, and you were there. And if you couldn’t, how’s Sam ever going to?’

‘How’s Sam ever going to what?’ asks Wendy, materializing behind the bar with a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses.

As I start to blush furiously, Dan grins at her. ‘Just a surprise Ed’s thinking about giving Sam later.’

‘Ooh, lovely,’ says Wendy, popping the cork out of the bottle and pouring us both a drink. ‘Girls love surprises.’

‘Not this kind, they don’t,’ whispers Dan.

‘But don’t you understand?’ I say, once Wendy’s out of earshot. ‘These things always have a way of coming out. Far better that I tell her about it now, rather than have it look like I was trying to keep it from her. I mean, what happens if someone announces it at the wedding?’

‘Trust me. Anyone who’s slept with you is hardly going to want to boast about it. And certainly not in public.’

I stare at him, tight-lipped. ‘And that’s supposed to make me feel better, is it?’

‘Listen,’ says Dan. ‘If – and it’s a big “if” – there
was
someone else, chances are, whoever this person is was as drunk as you, so there’s a good chance she doesn’t remember it either. Or maybe she’s embarrassed because she got off with some fat bloke – I mean, let’s face it, she was out of there so quickly the next morning you’d have thought the fire alarm had gone off.’

‘What’s your point, Dan?’

‘And so she probably wants to forget about it too. Which makes two of you. Problem solved.’

‘I’m sorry. I simply can’t risk Sam finding out from someone else.’

Dan sighs. ‘So tell her then. I mean, you didn’t dump Jane when she did the dirty on you, did you? So maybe Sam will be the same.’

I stare at him for a second, wondering whether to explain that Jane had already decided we were finished the moment she snogged someone else. And although she’d defended her actions, telling me they were just a cry for attention, in reality, as Natasha pointed out, they were a cry for attention from someone else. The reason I hadn’t dumped her there and then wasn’t anything to do with how much I wanted to be with her, but just how much I didn’t want to be on my own.

And the problem with my current situation, given that the roles are reversed, is this: because however much Sam might love me – at the moment, at least – I know she doesn’t have a problem being on her own. Which is why I’m so scared to tell her.

‘I
can’t
. I just know if I tell Sam what happened, she’ll leave me. But equally, I can’t not tell her.’ I put my head in my hands. ‘What am I going to do?’

Dan swivels round to face me. ‘You’re forgetting something. The one simple reason why you can’t tell her what happened.’

‘Which is?’

‘You. Don’t. Know.’ he says, punctuating each word with a poke in my chest. ‘Or rather, you can’t remember.’

‘But how can I remember?’

Dan thinks for a moment. ‘You could always try some of that hypnosis bollocks.’

‘Does it work?’

Dan nods. ‘I tried it once. The guy took me back to my childhood.’

‘That can’t have taken long.’

‘I’m serious. Tell you what, I’ll give it a go if you like. I think I can remember what he did.’

‘Just listening to you talk about your career is usually enough to send me to sleep. And besides, the last time I dozed off in front of you, you drew a moustache on my face with a permanent marker. So there’s no way.’

‘Suit yourself.’ Dan smiles to himself at the memory. ‘But just bear in mind if you do spill your guts to her, then the only woman you’ll be seeing every night is the receptionist at whatever hotel you end up having to go and live in when Sam kicks you out.’

I pick my glass up, get it halfway to my mouth, then put it straight back down again. ‘Dan, you’re a genius,’ I say, grabbing his head with both hands and planting a kiss on his forehead.

For a second he doesn’t know how to react, torn between being flattered that I’ve complimented him on his intelligence – although he obviously can’t work out why – and the fact that I’ve just done something that is way off the scale on his gay-o-meter.

‘What?’

‘You’re a genius.’

‘I am?’

‘Yes. What if we ask the receptionist? At the Grand.’

‘To hypnotize you?’ Dan frowns. ‘Why would she be any better at it than me?’

‘No, dummy. If she saw anything. That night, I mean.’ I jump off my stool, convinced I’ve sussed it. ‘There must have been someone on duty that night. And I’m bound to have walked past reception.’

‘Or stumbled. Or been carried.’

‘Even better. Because that would have been more noticeable.’ I leap off my stool, then head towards the door. ‘Come on.’

Dan gazes longingly at his half-full champagne glass, then climbs reluctantly down from his stool. ‘We don’t have a lot of time, you know.’

I stride purposefully back to the bar, grab his arm, then physically drag him towards the doorway, ignoring Wendy’s enquiring shout from the other side of the pub.

‘Which is exactly why we need to get a move on.’