Three Amazing Things About You (17 page)

Do the unexpected, be amazing and surprise yourself. Set yourself free.

Then move on triumphantly with your new life!

Love,

Rose xxx

‘Spot on. Couldn’t agree more,’ announced Margot, having finished reading. ‘What a snake. Get your own back on him, girl!’ Her dark eyes were glittering. ‘Can’t beat a bit of closure.’

‘I hope we get an update.’ Flo was watering the house plants lined up along the windowsill of Margot’s apartment; sometimes people got back in touch to let Rose and her readers know what was now happening in their lives.

‘Sooner rather than later, preferably. Don’t want to pop my clogs and still be waiting to hear how she’s doing.’ Margot tilted her head to one side like a bird, surveying Flo with interest. ‘Have you had a haircut?’

‘Just a trim.’

‘And a colour?’

‘Semi-permanent. It’s called Autumn Leaves.’ Pleased, Flo swished her ringlets from side to side. ‘D’you like it?’

‘I do, very much. And you’ve had your eyebrows tinted too.’

‘It was the hairdresser’s idea.’

‘Nice. This is for a special occasion, I take it.’

‘Possibly.’ Flo smiled and put down the watering can.

‘Your chap back from Toronto at last, is he?’

My chap
. . .

‘His plane landed this morning. I’m seeing him tonight.’

Margot said, ‘D’you suppose he’ll have had his eyebrows tinted to impress you too?’

‘His are black already.’ Unable to help herself, Flo said, ‘Honestly, you should see them. He has amazing eyebrows.’

‘Ah, look at you. You’re glowing.’ Margot added cheerfully, ‘And you’re lovely too, never forget that. He’s a lucky chap.’

‘Hi,’ said Zander when Flo pulled open the front door.

‘Hi.’ Was she beaming like an idiot? Oh, but it was so wonderful to see him again.

‘I’m back.’

‘I noticed.’

He was nodding admiringly. ‘You look great.’

‘Thanks. I had my eyebrows tinted and I’m still getting used to them. Every time I catch sight of myself in the mirror I get a shock.’ OK, babbling now, time to stop before she heard herself blurting out that she’d had her legs waxed too.

‘I like your eyebrows.’ Zander was smiling. ‘I like you. I’ve missed you.’

His words made her quiver; it was the perfect thing to say. Her skin prickling with anticipation, she breathed in the scent of Zander’s body, his aftershave, his leather jacket. And then he kissed her and all was right with the world . . .

Well, almost all.

Drawing away a minute later, she rested her hands on his shoulders. ‘Sorry, but I have to ask. Have you spoken to Lena yet?’

‘Yes. She told me what happened last week. Was it awful?’

‘Put it this way, she’s not happy with me. Is Giles her new boyfriend?’

Zander looked resigned. ‘Seems like it.’

‘He’s pretty ghastly.’

‘Ah well, that’s my sister for you. Line up a row of potential men and you can guarantee Lena’ll go for the most obnoxious one. It’s like a moth to a flame.’

‘Did she manage to lock herself out of the flat while you were away?’

Zander grimaced. ‘A couple of times. I had to leave spare keys with all the neighbours. Anyway, can we not talk about my sister just now? I’ve been looking forward to this evening. Let’s not spoil it.’

When the clock struck midnight, they were lying wrapped in each other’s arms in Flo’s bed. Was this too soon? It probably was, but it didn’t feel too soon. This had been one of the most magical evenings of her life.

‘What are you thinking?’ said Zander.

‘I’m thinking I’m really glad I had my legs waxed.’

He laughed. ‘Most girls wouldn’t say that.’

‘I know. It’s why I’m still single.’

Still laughing, Zander pulled her to him and kissed her on the nose. ‘They wouldn’t say that either.’

At that moment they heard a peremptory scratching at the door, followed by a series of miaows.

‘It’s Jeremy’s bedtime,’ said Flo. ‘He won’t give up until we let him in.’

She watched as Zander got out of bed, crossed the room and opened the door.
Nice body
.

Jeremy stalked past him, jumped up on to the end of the bed and settled himself down, facing Flo and radiating disapproval.

‘Looks like our time’s up,’ Zander observed as he climbed back in.

Jeremy blinked and slowly swished his tail.

Flo said, ‘It’s like having Ann Widdecombe sitting on your bed, making sure there’s no hanky-panky going on.’

‘He’s spent his whole life living with my grandmother. He doesn’t know what hanky-panky is.’

Beneath the duvet, Flo jiggled her foot and gave the cat a playful nudge. ‘Come on, Jeremy, cheer up, no need to be so grumpy.’

Jeremy’s baleful gaze was unwavering. He clearly had no intention of forgiving her.

‘We’ll work something out,’ said Zander.

‘It may involve moving into the spare room.’

‘Well we can’t go to my flat, that’s for sure. If it’s a toss-up between having to cope with Jeremy’s disapproval or Lena’s, I know which I’d prefer.’

‘Are you going to tell her about . . . us?’ Oh help, was that horrifically presumptuous? Was there even an
us
? Who knew, maybe now that he’d effortlessly seduced her, she wouldn’t see him for dust.

‘Don’t look like that. I’m not going anywhere.’ Reading her mind, Zander lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. ‘This is just the beginning. But we both know what Lena’s like. When she finds out, she isn’t going to make things easy. For now, I’d rather keep it just between us. Trust me, it’ll be more relaxed all round.’

Flo nodded and said fervently, ‘I think so too.’

But inside her chest, happiness was bubbling up like a garden fountain.
Look, it’s me and Zander, we’re a couple . . . we’re an us!

When making yourself a bacon sandwich really took it out of you, you knew you were in a bad way.

Although Hallie was already aware of that. Last week she’d gone into hospital for yet another routine check-up and had seen her figures. Full blood count, oxygen saturation and lung function tests, X-rays and IV assessments . . . basically, all the results were worse.

At least it hadn’t come as a surprise. When you lived with cystic fibrosis, you knew you were never going to wake up in the morning miraculously cured.

But to see the numbers and understand the degree to which you’d deteriorated wasn’t a cheery experience. Her exercise tolerance was markedly reduced. Her sats were 90 per cent. Extra physio had been less effective than before. The insides of her lungs felt spiky and sore, and the stealthy, depressing inevitability of it all caused her to be ambushed, sometimes, by great waves of sadness.

Don’t be a whiner,
she told herself.
Concentrate on the good things in life, even if there don’t seem to be too many of them left.

Luckily, a bacon sandwich definitely counted as a good thing. Disconnecting herself from the oxygen supply in the kitchen, Hallie carried the plate through to the living room, reconnected her nasal specs to the oxygen supply in there and sat down on the sofa to watch the rest of
Starter for 10
.

The heat from the crispy bacon had melted the butter, giving the fresh white bread just the right amount of squidginess. Oh yes, this was a world-class sandwich. As she picked it up and prepared to take that heavenly first bite, the doorbell rang.

Oh please. Did people like to spy on her with binoculars and do it on purpose?

Just ignore the door and eat the sandwich
.

But the moment would be spoiled, Hallie knew; she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it if all she was doing was waiting for the bell to ring a second time.

Ooh, and it might be the postman with those new ankle boots she’d ordered from ASOS.

She put the sandwich down, disconnected the oxygen tubing once more and got slowly to her feet.

The doorbell rang again.

OK, after all this it had
better
be her ankle boots.

It wasn’t.

It was even browner than the ankle boots.

It was Nick.

He was grinning, holding his arms out to her, his teeth dazzling white in contrast with his ridiculously deep tan. In an over-the-top stab at an Australian accent he said, ‘Hey, sport, how ya doin’? Ya got a face on ya like a wallaby on a tightrope.’

Amazed, Hallie said, ‘I don’t believe it.’

‘It’s true! Have ya never
seen
a wallaby on a tightrope?’ Dropping the accent, he stepped forward and enveloped her in a hug. ‘How are you? Surprised to see me?’

‘Just a bit. And you want to watch it; I’m an invalid, you know. I could drop dead from this kind of shock.’

‘Sorry, I wanted to see the look on your face. Oh Hal . . .’ Ushering her inside, out of the cold, he touched her cheek and stroked an index finger along the line of her jaw. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’

‘Well I’m still here. Just about. Come on, I need my oxygen.’ Hallie led the way into the living room and plugged herself back in. ‘What are you doing back in the UK?’

It was six years since they’d broken up, two years since she’d last seen him.

‘Flying visit to the parents. Dad’s had a gall bladder op and Mum wanted me to come back for a few days. But I flew into Birmingham so I thought I’d swing by and see you before shooting on up to Manchester.’

‘It’s out of your way.’ He was going to have to double back to Birmingham before heading home.

‘Hey, I’ve hired a fast car. And once you’ve lived in Australia, you get used to long journeys. Anything less than a six-hour drive is nothing at all . . . Jesus, what is
that
thing out there?’

He was pointing at something through the window. By the time Hallie realised she’d succumbed to the oldest trick in the book, the bacon sandwich was in his hand.

‘I can’t believe you fell for it.’ Nick shook his head pityingly.

‘Me neither.’ Distraction followed by food theft had always been a game they’d played. ‘I’m out of practice.’

‘Here.’ He offered her the sandwich back. ‘To be honest, if you were about to eat this, I’m amazed you even came to the door.’

‘I nearly didn’t. It’s OK, you can have a bite. Seeing as you’ve come all the way from Australia.’

Nick shook his head. ‘You have first bite. It’s your sandwich.’

‘Correct answer.’ Hallie bit into it with relish whilst Nick watched her with a smile on his face. And maybe the bacon was no longer as hot as it might have been, but it was still delicious.

When it was time for Nick to eat his share, she sat and watched him in turn. His lean, rangy limbs were the same, his blond hair as messy as it had always been. He’d just flown from the other side of the world, but you wouldn’t know it; in his white T-shirt, soft grey sweater and battered old jeans he looked just as he always had. Only the smell of him was different.

Aware of her gaze, Nick said, ‘What?’

‘You’ve changed your aftershave.’

‘This?’ He sniffed his wrist and pulled a face. ‘I tried it in duty-free. Makes me smell like a used car salesman. Seems like it’s got stronger since I put it on.’

‘That’s what happens. The more you don’t like it, the stronger it smells.’ Hallie smiled. ‘But you look just the same.’

‘So do you.’ Having finished off the sandwich, he put down the empty plate and gave her hand a squeeze.

‘Thanks.’ Touched, Hallie added, ‘But we both know that’s not true.’

‘OK, maybe not, but when I look at you, I just see . . .
you
.’ He reached up and lightly touched her nose. ‘I see your freckles, the shape of your cheeks, the way your eyelashes curl at the corners, the way your mouth moves when you smile. And as for your eyes . . . they’re never going to change. You still have the best eyes I’ve ever seen.’

‘If this is your way of telling me you’d like another bacon sandwich,’ said Hallie, ‘you’re going to have to make it yourself.’

‘That’s not why I said those things.’ He winked at her. ‘But now you come to mention it . . .’

In the kitchen, she sat at the table while Nick made them both mugs of tea and fried up the rest of the bacon. He told her stories about his adventures in Australia. She told him less exciting ones about her life in Carranford. Nick called home and told his parents he’d be with them by nine o’clock.

At two thirty, Hallie said, ‘It’s time for me to do my meds and physio.’

‘No problem.’ He sniffed his wrist and the sleeve of his sweater again. ‘Actually, can I ask a favour? Would it be OK if I had a shower while I’m here? Clean myself up a bit and get rid of this bloody awful aftershave?’

‘No problem. You know where the bathroom is,’ said Hallie. ‘Help yourself.’

Nick went out to the car, collected his wash bag and a change of clothes from his suitcase and disappeared upstairs while Hallie set out her meds. She also made the discovery that once an idea had worked its way into your brain, it was next to impossible to think about anything else.

It was like being haunted by the catchiest tune ever.

OK, stop thinking about it
.

But I just caaaaan’t
.

It was, she knew, partly to do with the last letter she’d replied to on the website. Poor rejected Julia, abandoned by her husband and in need of closure.

And sex.

And revenge.

But mainly closure.

And sex.

Hallie got on with doing her meds, but the idea was still refusing to go away. Who knew how long she had left to live? Not long, the way things were going and if time ran out before a suitable donor could be found.

For the last year, the only man she could have imagined sleeping with was the one man she couldn’t have a relationship with. Basically she’d kind of assumed that, given her situation, that was it on the sex front. There wouldn’t be any more. The window of opportunity had passed her by without her even realising that the last time had indeed been
the
last time.

Sad, but it couldn’t be helped.

Except, except . . . what if the window of opportunity had just unexpectedly opened again?

Upstairs, the shower was still running. A handsome man was currently standing under it naked, shampoo and soap suds sliding down his beautiful tanned body.