The One You Really Want (26 page)

Nodding, Nancy said, ‘Could be handy, couldn't it? Perfect timing. You can persuade Sven to come and take over my job.'

Zac was visibly shocked. ‘Are you leaving?'

‘No, I'm not. And don't look so disappointed.' Nancy blew him a kiss. ‘I'm staying here to make your life a misery, whether you like it or not.'

Nick, ambling into the kitchen at the shelter, said, ‘The trouble with playing chess against Albert is how do I
know
he's a Grand Master?'

‘OK, clue,' said Annie. ‘If you beat him, he probably isn't one.'

‘But that's what's so annoying.' Frustratedly, Nick pointed through the door to where Albert, a recent arrival at the shelter, was dozing peacefully in a tartan armchair. ‘We start playing, I
start
doing well, I start to think that this time I might actually win. Then the next thing I know, I hear the sound of snoring and when I look up, Albert's fallen asleep again. So I never
do
get to beat him. When he wakes up and I suggest we carry on, he says he can't because he's lost the thread of the game.'

‘That's Nick for you,' Annie told Carmen cheerfully. ‘They said he was gullible and he believed them. Face it, Albert is no Grand Master, Old Eamonn isn't really the son of God and Peg Leg Jack's real parents probably weren't Winston Churchill and Bette Davis.'

The older visitors to the shelter tended to make colourful claims regarding their family histories. Nick, picking up a potato peeler and joining Carmen at the sink, said conversationally, ‘I used to be married to Shirley Bassey, you know.'

‘That's nothing,' Annie airily retaliated as she chopped carrots. ‘My first husband was Sylvester Stallone.'

‘She's always had this thing for Sylvester Stallone.' Nick gave Carmen a complicit nudge. ‘Does that make any sense to you? I mean, what
is
the attraction there?'

Carmen smiled absently, struggling to pay attention to their banter. Last night she'd dreamt that Joe and Tina had invited her to their wedding and at the reception Joe had publicly announced that she was paying for the whole thing because she could afford it.

‘Miles away,' Nick tut-tutted, waving a hand in front of her face. ‘Please don't tell me you're fantasising over Sylvester Stallone's oiled biceps. Heyyy, payyy atten-shunn.' He mimicked the low-pitched Stallone drawl. ‘Whattaya doin' . . . starin' at my biceps?'

Distracted, Carmen said, ‘Hmm?'

‘Heyyy, she ain't even listenin' to meee,' Nick protested. ‘Like she don't even know who I aaaam.'

‘Oh, shut up, Nick, give it a rest, will you?' Annie rolled her eyes despairingly. ‘You're such a hopeless case.'

Mystified, Nick said in his normal voice, ‘Why am I hopeless? '

‘Because Carmen's not in the mood, OK? Honestly, why is it that men never notice
anything
?'

Gazing around the kitchen in search of clues, Nick said, ‘Notice
what
?'

Carmen turned and caught Annie silently mouthing something at him. Since Nick's talents didn't include lip-reading, he continued to look baffled.

‘It's OK,' said Carmen, because someone had to put him out of his misery. ‘I'm having a bit of an off day, that's all. Joe and I broke up.'

‘Oh. Hey, I'm sorry.' Nick looked accusingly at Annie. ‘How did you know?'

‘I'm a girl.' Annie was scornful. ‘We have this thing called intuition, otherwise known as common sense. I'm sorry too,' she told Carmen. ‘What a rotten thing to happen. Poor you.'

Touched by their concern, Carmen said, ‘Thanks. I'll live.'

‘His loss.' Nick's tone was bracing. ‘So what happened? Caught him with another woman, did you?
Hey
,' he dodged out of the way as Annie threw a carrot at his head. ‘What was that for? I'm not the one who cheated on Carmen.'

‘You don't ask questions like that, you big hopeless wazzock. It's not what people
do
.'

‘But if we don't ask, how are we supposed to find out?'

‘Really, it doesn't matter,' Carmen said hastily before another relationship could crumble before her very eyes. ‘I didn't catch him with another woman. I just found out he wasn't . . . well, as honest as I'd thought.'

‘Honesty. Honesty's important.' Annie was sympathetic. ‘You don't want to be involved with someone you can't trust.'

‘Nick, dear boy.' Albert, in his fifty-year-old dinner jacket and grubby brown corduroys, stood in the kitchen doorway. ‘Just finished the game without you.' His plummy tones emerged through his long untrimmed beard and his eyes sparkled with triumph.

‘Really, Albert? Did I win?'

‘Frightfully sorry, old thing. Checkmate in four. Still, better luck next time, eh?' Shuffling back out of the kitchen, Albert executed a regal wave. ‘Can't expect to beat a Grand Master.'

‘Like I was saying,' Annie whispered when the door had closed behind him. ‘Honesty's important.'

Nick winked at Carmen and said, ‘In that case, your bum looks enormous in those jeans.'

Carmen loved the way they bickered together, like a couple who'd been married for fifty years.

‘One other hint,' Annie told Nick. ‘Never say that to a girl with a sharp chopping knife in her hand. Or you could really live to regret it.'

 

The heavens opened as Carmen left the shelter at five thirty. Skulking in the doorway with hunched-shouldered commuters bustling past, she realised that her black wool coat would soak up the rain like a sponge, and that of course today was the day she'd forgotten her umbrella.

Well, what else could you expect?

Bugger it, thought Carmen, today was the day for a cab. But even the cab drivers, it turned out, were against her. Evidently they were less inclined to stop for someone huddled in an oversized coat on the steps of a shelter for the homeless.

‘Ugh,' shivered Nick, joining her five minutes later and shuddering as the icy rain hit him in the face. ‘What are you still doing here?'

‘Waiting for it to ease off before I head for the tube,' Carmen lied.

Nick shook his head. ‘It's not going to stop for ages. God, sometimes I hate this country.' Giving Carmen a nudge he said, ‘Come on, let's run off together.'

‘The Caribbean,' said Carmen through chattering teeth. ‘Or Sydney. Sydney would be nice. Or - ooh, I know, Capri.'

‘Damn, if only I'd thought to bring my passport today.' Pointing through the rainswept darkness down the street, Nick said, ‘How about a coffee at Giacomo's instead?'

Inside the warmth of the friendly Italian cafe, Carmen's coat began to steam gently. By the time Nick arrived at their table with two cappuccinos, her feet had begun to thaw out.

‘Proper coffee.' Nick inhaled appreciatively. ‘Nothing like it.'

Carmen said, ‘And the coffee at the shelter is definitely nothing like it.'

He grinned, because back at the shelter they got through catering-sized tins of horrible powdered instant stuff.

‘Hey, I'm sorry if I put my foot in it earlier. Annie told me off after lunch for being such a klutz. I didn't mean to be insensitive.'

‘You weren't,' Carmen assured him. ‘I'm fine, really. I thought Joe was special. Turns out he wasn't. That's all, no big deal. Happens to everyone.'

‘But it still hurts. When I was nineteen I was absolutely crazy about my girlfriend,' said Nick. ‘She was everything I'd ever wanted. I thought we were officially the happiest couple on the planet. Until I came home early one day and caught her in
our
bed with
my
sociology lecturer.'

Carmen knew she mustn't laugh. She mustn't, she really mustn't. But the look on Nick's face wasn't helping; his eyebrows were wounded but his eyes were bright with laughter.

‘That's . . . tragic,' Carmen managed finally. ‘Is it true?'

‘True?' Nick bristled with indignation. ‘I've got the anguished diaries to prove it. Go on, you can laugh, but I was destroyed at the time. And my friends, needless to say, were no help at all. They said it served me right for doing sociology in the first place. You've got cappuccino foam on your lip, by the way. No, don't wipe it off. A moustache suits you.'

Carmen wiped away her frothy moustache; she was feeling better already. This was why Nick was so popular at the shelter, he had the ability to make fun of himself, chat effortlessly to anyone and invariably cheer them up.

‘So how did you get over her?'

‘Hey, I was a student! I got legless in the union bar and persuaded my ex-girlfriend's less attractive best friend to come back to the flat for wild sex.'

‘Of course you did.' Carmen nodded solemnly. ‘And did that work?'

‘After nine pints of cheap cider and six shots of tequila? Are you kidding?
Nothing
worked,' said Nick. ‘I couldn't do a thing. Which was hugely embarrassing of course, because all I needed now was for this girl to spread the word that I was impotent and my life would be over, I'd have to leave the country. So I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances.'

‘Which was?'

‘Told her the reason I couldn't sleep with her was because she was too ugly.'

Carmen spluttered and grabbed a paper napkin. ‘You
didn't
.'

‘I did. Had to.' Nick shrugged soulfully. ‘My manhood, my university career,
everything
was at stake.'

‘And what did she do?'

‘Cried. Got dressed. Ran off down the street with her cardigan on inside out.'

‘I can't believe you did something so horrible,' Carmen protested.

‘It was important. Plus,' Nick went on, ‘I was drunker than I'd ever been before in my whole life.'

‘That poor girl. Whatever happened to her?'

‘Funnily enough, I saw her on TV not long ago. She's a Tory MP now.' Nick stirred his coffee. ‘So it clearly scarred her for life.'

‘She'll probably push through a bill to bring back hanging for drunken students who humiliate girls.'

‘And I'd deserve it. I know, but you did ask. At least I was honest with you.'

‘A bit
too
honest. But you managed to get over the break-up with your ex-girlfriend,' said Carmen. ‘How long ago did you meet Annie?'

‘Two years ago? Maybe a bit more than that.'

Annie had left work early that afternoon to visit her dentist and have a loose filling replaced. Glancing at her watch and realising that it was already gone six, Carmen said, ‘Should you give her a ring and let her know where you are? She'll be wondering why you're late.'

Nick shrugged, unconcerned. ‘She won't be. I'm old enough to be out on my own.'

Honestly, were all men as selfish as each other?

‘I know you're
old
enough.' Carmen rolled her eyes in despair. ‘But what if Annie's cooked dinner and is expecting you home by six? If you're going to be late, it's only polite to call and—'

‘Whoa, whoa, you're starting to sound like my mother. For a start,' Nick began counting on his fingers, ‘Annie's just been to the dentist, so all she'll be doing is slurping Cup-a-Soup through a straw. Second, she's the world's worst cook, so any opportunity to miss one of her terrible meals is a bonus. And third,' he said, dodging out of the way as Carmen took an indignant swipe at him on Annie's behalf, ‘she won't even be at home. She's gone out with her boyfriend.'

Carmen froze in mid-swipe.
Boyfriend?

‘Sorry?'

‘They've gone to the cinema to see the new Richard Curtis comedy. You know the one.' Nick waggled his hands in a Hugh Grantish kind of way. ‘Drives me insane, all those cute quirky characters with posh voices, pratting around doing cute quirky things. But Annie loves all that.'

Boyfriend?

Bemused, Carmen said, ‘Don't you . . . um, mind?'

‘You're joking. I'm more of a
Great Escape
man myself.'

‘I meant the thing about the boyfriend. Isn't that a bit . . . you know . . . unusual?'

Nick shrugged. ‘I suppose. Blokes don't go for that kind of film as a rule, do they? I should think he's hating every second but putting up with it for Annie's sake. Gets him some Brownie points,' he added wryly. ‘Probably hoping she'll sleep with him.'

‘And will she?' Carmen was astounded; it had never occurred to her that Nick and Annie might have an open relationship. Weren't they normally the preserve of permatanned women who wore plunging leopard-print dresses and men with too much aftershave and medallions round their necks?

‘Maybe. I don't know.' Nick drank his cappuccino. ‘He seems all right.'

Carmen was perplexed. ‘And you're OK with that?'

Half smiling, Nick ran his fingers through his messy hair. ‘Annie's a grown-up. She can do what she wants.'

‘Right. Of course she can. Gosh, I just . . . well, it's just a surprise. Sorry,' said Carmen. ‘I must sound like somebody's maiden aunt.'

Nick slowly finished his coffee, gazing at her over the rim of the cup as he did so. He looked as if he might be trying not to smile.

Finally he put down the empty cup and Carmen saw that his mouth was twitching at the corners.

‘Annie isn't my girlfriend.'

‘She isn't?' Carmen was confused. When had they broken up? Why hadn't they told her? How could they carry on laughing and joking together at work, as if nothing had happ—