Valentine (10 page)

'What are you two talking about?' Lauren demanded,
walking over to them. She was a little the worse for wear;
her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glinted dangerously.
She'd taken off her gold sandals – her long vintage green
silk dress trailed on the floor and was already a little
grubby, but she still looked stunning.

'Tamara was just updating me about Finn,' Valentine
said, trying to keep her voice steady. 'Apparently he's
engaged.' She felt utterly miserable now and just wanted
to go home.

'That was nice of her,' Lauren said insincerely. She
turned to Tamara. 'Thanks for a lovely party, Tamara.
Good luck with getting that part in
Chicago
. Spanx can
do wonders with big arses nowadays.' And not giving
Tamara the chance to answer back, Lauren took
Valentine's arm and practically frogmarched her out of
the room. In the hall she muttered, 'I'll go and round up
the boys. Meet me outside. You need to get away from
Toxic Tamara.'

Valentine grabbed her coat. Outside the cold March
air was like a slap in the face.
I must not think about Finn
,
she told herself, digging her fingernails into her palms
and shivering in her fake fur. A few minutes later the
others emerged from the house. As Lauren ran down the
steps she gleefully opened her coat and revealed two
bottles of champagne, which she'd lifted from the party.
'Come on, let's get a taxi back home and we can crack
this open.'

'You're very quiet,' Jack said to Valentine halfway
through the taxi ride home. He had quickly realised that
Valentine was in no mood to come back to his. While
Lauren had been chatting away about the people she'd
met, laughing about the actress who wouldn't even eat
the olive in her Martini for fear of putting on weight,
and about Tamara's mother, who'd tried to chat up
Nathan, Valentine hadn't said a word. In her head she'd
gone back a year ago to the night Finn had chosen his
girlfriend over her, despite telling her that he loved her.
She suddenly felt as vulnerable and raw as if it had been
yesterday. The confident, teasing, flirtatious persona she
had adopted with Jack lay in ruins.

'I'm just tired,' she lied.

'Not too tired to drink Tamara fucking Moore's champagne!'
Lauren interrupted, brandishing the bottles of
Dom Perignon in the air.

'Actually too tired even for that,' Valentine replied and
she saw Jack look at her, clearly wondering what had
happened to change her mood so dramatically. He was
perceptive, she had to give him that, and when they drove
past Paddington station Jack asked the taxi to stop, saying
that he was going to call in on some friends.

He hesitated at the door and Valentine wondered if
he expected her to go with him. Then he simply said,
'See you on Monday, Valentine. Cheers for inviting me
tonight,' and waved to Lauren and Nathan.

Back home Lauren, sensing her friend's mood, tried to
get Valentine to have a drink with them, but Valentine
refused and shut herself up in her bedroom. Champagne
was not going to make her feel better. The memory of
kissing Jack and of the feel of his body against hers did
not make her feel better. As soon as she was alone she
reached for her phone and texted Finn, her resolve not
to contact him overtaken by events. She had to know if
he really was engaged.
Please call me, I really need to speak
to you. Vx.
She suddenly thought of Piers – he hadn't
wanted her and now Finn didn't want her either. She felt
completely worthless. She switched on her laptop,
convinced that the SGF would have posted up a message
about such dramatic news. She was trembling as she
logged on and took several attempts to type in her
Facebook password.
Please don't let it be true,
she thought,
biting her nails as she went first to Finn's page, where
there was no mention, and then on to Eva's. There was
nothing. But that wasn't enough for Valentine.

She paced round her room, wishing she had some
cigarettes. She had to speak to him. She jumped when
her phone beeped with a text message; it had to be Finn.
But she was bitterly disappointed when it was from Jack,
asking her if she was OK. Fuck, this was no good; she
couldn't stand it. She had to speak to him and if he wasn't
going to call, she was going to have to go to his house.
She didn't stop to consider that Eva was bound to be with
him, as she grabbed her coat and tiptoed out of the flat.

Outside, the temperature had fallen even lower and it
had started snowing. Valentine shivered as she walked
briskly to Westbourne Park Tube station. She sat on the
train in a perfect cocoon of misery, oblivious to the other
passengers. She had been feeling slightly drunk from all
the champagne, but Tamara's words had sobered her up.
At Richmond she got a taxi to Finn's place. He owned
the top-floor flat in a Victorian house. She hesitated for
a few seconds as the taxi pulled up. Did she really want
to do this? But the thought of not knowing drove her
forward. She paid the fare and positioned herself on the
opposite side of the road to Finn's flat, in the shadow of
a large horse chestnut tree. The lights were still on and
she could see people sitting round the dining table in the
bay window. Finn was entertaining. It was probably his
fucking engagement party. Once more she reached for
her phone and texted him:
I am outside, I have to see you
now. Vx.

God knew if he would even get the text that night.
She shoved her hands into her pocket wishing she was
wearing gloves; she was freezing and the snow was falling
more heavily. But after a few minutes her phone rang.

'V, where the hell are you?' he was whispering and
sounded like he was walking down a flight of stairs.

Valentine told him where she was and watched as he
emerged from the flat and quickly crossed the road.
He looked angry as he approached her.

'Christ, we can't talk here! Eva mustn't see you. Come
on, my car's round the corner; we'll go and sit in that.'

He swiftly strode down the street, not bothering to wait
for Valentine, and unlocked his pride and joy – a silver
Audi TT convertible that had been a twenty-first birthday
present from his doting mother. Valentine had zero interest
in cars and only knew what model Finn's was because
he'd gone on about it enough times when they were
together.

'You pick your moments, V,' he said as she slid into
the seat next to him.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drop you in it. It's just that
I saw Tamara Moore tonight and she told me.' Valentine
paused; she really didn't think she could bear it if what
Tamara had said was true. She had been living in the
hope that one day soon she and Finn would be together.

'What?' Finn said impatiently.

'That you're engaged,' Valentine said quietly.

Finn burst out laughing. 'No fucking way! That woman
is a complete fantasist!'

'So you're definitely not?' Valentine asked, feeling a
small glimmer of hope force its way through the misery.
'Tamara said Eva told her you had proposed the day after
Valentine's Day.'

'V, I swear I didn't. Come here.' He put his arm round
her and pulled her towards him, even though it meant
the handbrake was digging painfully into her thigh. Then
he kissed her. She had always thought Finn was a great
kisser, but somewhere in the back of her mind came the
thought that he wasn't actually as good as Jack and unlike
Jack, whose eyes had stayed open, Finn's were closed.
Valentine suddenly felt as if she could have been anyone.
He slipped his hand inside her dress and began caressing
her breasts, not particularly gently. Then he murmured,
'Do you remember the last time we were in this car
together? How about it? They think I've gone to the off-licence,
so I've got a few minutes.' Valentine did
remember; she had nearly put her back out.

'It was so good, V. I always think of you when I'm in
the car. I've really missed you, baby. Take your knickers
off.' What followed was apparently very good for Finn,
judging by the groans he made, and not quite so good
for Valentine, who was in a very uncomfortable position,
and kept banging her head against the car roof. She was
paranoid that someone would see them and think they
were dogging and that really was not Valentine's scene.
And then because they didn't have a condom Finn had
to withdraw, and came all over her silk dress, which was
dry-clean only. It was too cold in the car to stay and chat.
Valentine had at least hoped for one 'I love you', but Finn
was clearly anxious about getting back to the party.

'V, I'll see you soon,' he said, slamming the car door.
'It would be better if you went ahead.'

She should have been glad that Tamara's little bombshell
had turned out to be a lie, and happy that Finn still
wanted her. Instead, as she curled up in bed later that
night, she felt used. Jack had texted her again:
Are you
okay? Jx.
She didn't want to lie so she ignored it. She so
wished she hadn't gone to Tamara's party and been
poisoned by her. Jack must think that she was a complete
mentalist – kissing him passionately one minute then
pushing him away. Thank God she didn't have to face
him tomorrow as it was Sunday. Maybe by rehearsals on
Monday she would have worked out how to explain her
behaviour – and worked out her feelings for him.

She was all set to brood the following day, but at half
eight (after just four hours' sleep) Frank knocked
smartly on the flat door. 'Sorry to wake you,' he said
cheerfully, 'But I wondered if you wanted to come
and help out on the stall. It's going to be a nice day and
there should be plenty of tourists. There'll be thirty
quid in it for you.'

Valentine was about to refuse, but then the thought of
spending a day obsessing over Finn and Jack prompted her
to agree. At first as they set up the stall she still felt under
a dark cloud, lethargic and miserable, but Frank's good
humour and good nature was infectious. He sold a mixture
of jewellery, some total tat and some quality on his stall,
which occupied a prime location on the Portabello Road
outside a row of antique shops. He knew everyone as he'd
had his stall for years, so she was forced out of herself, to
chat and joke with Frank's friends. Frank was a fantastic
salesman, bantering with the customers, telling the girls
they were beautiful, while trying to strike a deal with them.

As if sensing Valentine's mood he gave her plenty to do
so she couldn't brood, sending her off to get bacon rolls,
getting her to display the jewellery and then to hold it up
for the customers and take the money as his arthritis was
particularly painful that morning. Valentine felt chastened
next to him. She could tell that he was in pain, but he kept
going; his good spirits never faltered. By lunchtime some of
the dark cloud was lifting from her and she realised that
she was enjoying herself. It was a cold, crisp day but the
sun was shining – she loved these sorts of days.

'Hello!' trilled a familiar voice. Valentine looked up
from the tray of silver rings she was busy arranging to
see Lily, arm in arm with Jack. Her heart skipped and
the sun seemed to shine brighter. 'This young man called
round for you and I thought I'd bring him to you,' Lily
continued. She looked very glam in her full-length black
sheepskin coat and white fur hat. It was mink, though
she always pretended it was fake. She refused to get rid
of it, saying it had sentimental value as it had been her
mother's, and it was better to keep her head warm than
clog up a landfill site and add to global warming. Valentine
doubted that anti-fur protestors would see it like that, but
she had given up trying to argue with Lily.

'Hi Valentine,' Jack said. 'I was in your area and I
thought I'd drop by. You don't mind, do you?'

Valentine smiled and shook her head, aware that Lily
and Frank were watching her like a pair of hawks –
subtlety was not the old timers' forte.

'In your area?' Lily sniffed. 'How unromantic! Why
don't you just admit that you wanted to see her?'

'And why wouldn't you want to see her, a lovely girl
like Valentine?' Frank put in loyally.

Valentine shrugged. 'My number-one fans,' she said
ruefully.

Jack smiled, 'OK, I wanted to see you.'

'That's more like it!' Frank said gleefully. 'Life's too
short to go beating round the bush! You like a girl, you
tell her! Now who wants some coffee? It's brass monkey
weather and I for one could do with some warming up.'

As Lily and Frank fussed over the cups, Valentine finally
felt able to talk to Jack. 'I'm sorry about last night,' she
said quietly. 'It was something Tamara said, something
to do with my past, and it sent me on a bit of a downer.'

'Something you want to tell me about?' Jack asked
sympathetically.

Valentine shook her head and fiddled with the tray of
silver rings, 'Not just yet if that's OK.'

'That's OK.' Jack replied.

Valentine expected Jack would simply have coffee and
leave; instead he spent the afternoon with them and proved
himself to be a master salesman, especially with the ladies.
No surprise there
, Valentine thought, watching a couple of
young girls buying far more than they had intended as
Jack told them how good the necklaces looked on them.
He was such a charmer. Frank was delighted as he cleared
far more stock than usual, and insisted that Jack and
Valentine come round for supper that evening.

'You don't have to if you don't want to,' Valentine told
him as they walked the short distance back to the house,
each lugging a large wooden jewellery case. Lily and Frank
were walking ahead and safely out of earshot.

'No, I'd like to,' Jack replied. 'Frank and Lily are great
and anyway, I want to see you.'

'So you don't think I'm a mentalist?' Valentine asked.