Welcome to My World (32 page)

Next morning, Harri could bear the suspense no longer. She decided to call in at Wātea before work and face Alex. After such a dreadful date, he was bound to have plenty to say to her – good or bad – so this, Harri concluded, as the coffee shop came into view through the heavy rain that had been pummelling Stone Yardley since the early hours, was the sensible option.

The red and white delivery van from Hickson & Butler was just pulling away when Harri arrived, revealing Alex hastily stacking boxes on the pavement. He looked up but didn’t smile when he saw her.

‘Hi, Al.’

‘Hey, do me a favour and grab these, would you? I need to get them out of the rain.’

Harri accepted three boxes from his outstretched hands and followed him into the coffee lounge. She could feel anticipation tingling through her as she watched him placing boxes in the storeroom, the muscles in his broad back flexing beneath his rain-splattered pale blue T-shirt. She waited in the doorway to the work kitchen with the boxes in her arms, trying to gauge his mood from the hunch of his shoulders. Finally, he turned back and relieved her of them.

‘I’m glad you came,’ Alex said, after a long time. ‘We need to talk.’

He’s mad, thought Harri. She flashed a bright smile at him. ‘The date was a mistake, wasn’t it?’

He closed the storeroom door and turned to face her – and for the first time she could see a vulnerability in his expression that she wasn’t expecting. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, at the time I thought Chelsea would be different for you. But I have to admit, last night I realised I’d made a
terrible
mistake. I’m just so sorry that I realised too late to stop it.’ She could feel a rush of satisfaction as she saw the confusion on his face.
And now you know how you made me feel, Alex
. . . ‘But I’ll find someone really nice for your next date, I promise.’

His eyes fell away. ‘There’s no point . . .’

This was more fun than she’d imagined. ‘Oh, come on, Al. Was the date really that bad? I’m sure the next one will be amazing.’

Slowly, he lifted his head, his chocolate eyes meeting hers. ‘No, Harri,’ he said softly. ‘There really
is
no point . . . because I’m in love.’

‘
What?
’

An enormous smile appeared on his face. ‘Completely, utterly, totally in love!’

Shock robbed her mouth of words, leaving her gawping.

‘I
know
! Mad or what! She’s amazing, H – and it’s just like you said: she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. Everything about her fascinates me. I couldn’t stop staring at her all night.’ His eyes searched her face. ‘Well, come on – say something!’

‘You – you can’t be serious?’

‘I can and I am. I love her.’

‘But – but she’s not your type!’

‘Type
schmype
, H! I know it isn’t logical, but then when was love ever ruled by logic? I’m telling you, she’s the one I’ve been looking for. And I have
you
to thank for it!’ He gathered Harri up in an enthusiastic bear hug, holding on to her for longer than she expected. Unable to break free, she remained helpless with her face pressed against his chest, his thumping heart beating furiously by her ear.

Her thoughts raced at high speed as she tried to make sense of what Alex was saying. Surely he couldn’t be serious? Everything about Chelsea screamed against every quality Alex had said he wanted in a woman: she was only interested in Alex’s bank balance and couldn’t care less about the man behind it, his hopes, his dreams or his character.

Or maybe – Harri’s mind made a handbrake turn as another explanation took to the floor for a spin – maybe he’d rumbled her plan to set him up with the worst possible date and all this was merely an elaborate double bluff to place the joke firmly on her. Alex the joker, getting his own back on her for the date to end all dates.

‘OK, very funny. You win.’

Alex broke the hug and stared at her. ‘I win what?’

Harri shook her head. ‘You know, you really had me going for a moment there. Very clever.’

‘H, what are you talking about?’

‘You got me back – for setting you up with a terrible date. And I almost believed you. But come on, I mean,
seriously
, you were never going to fall in love with someone like Chelsea, were you?’

Alex was looking at Harri like she had just accused him of murder. His smile was gone, his face frozen in disbelief. Suddenly, Harri’s shiny new theory began to shatter into a million fragments.

‘I’m not joking, H. You didn’t set me up with a terrible date. I’m in
love
. And it’s all your fault.’

It is becoming scarily clear that Viv has no intention of leaving anytime soon.

‘Are you cold in there? You must be cold in there – it’s freezing.’ Harri shivers. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Well, anyway, you might need this.’

A plum-coloured pashmina flops over the top of the door to Harri’s cubicle. She takes it gratefully and wraps it around her shoulders. ‘Thank you, Viv.’

‘You’re welcome. Have you eaten?’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘No, well, neither would I be if I was sitting in a toilet cubicle. Won’t you come out, darling? You being in here isn’t doing anyone any good.’

Harri’s head is beginning to pound. She rests her elbows on her lap and massages her temples with slow, circular movements. ‘I’m not ready. Not yet.’

‘But most people have gone now, Harriet. And those that are left probably didn’t even notice you leave.’

‘Viv,
everyone
saw me leave, remember? They all watched the humiliating spectacle right before all hell broke loose.’

‘That’s as maybe, but the fact remains you can’t stay in there indefinitely.’

She’s right, of course. Harri knows she has inadvertently backed herself into a corner by her choice of sanctuary and she wishes she had just walked out of the village hall instead. But she wasn’t thinking clearly: all that mattered was getting away from the pitying eyes of Stone Yardley’s finest. If
only
she’d never confided in Stella . . .

Harri read and reread the email. She had convinced herself by now that she was unlikely to hear from Stella. While the granite lump of hurt still refused to budge inside her at Stella’s sudden departure, Harri found herself needing to confide in someone so, unusually for Stella, her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

It was early November and any hopes Harri had entertained of Alex becoming tired of Chelsea had faded into obscurity. It was worse than she could ever have imagined: her spur-ofthe-moment decision had led to a relationship that threatened to steal her best friend away forever.

Chelsea was
everywhere
, making her orange-hued presence felt in all areas of Alex’s life – her influence seeping in like an insipid flood, silently intoxicating him and imperceptibly moving him away from everyone else. He seemed to spend every available minute with his new girlfriend, much to the frustration of his mates. Even his once regular attendance at the Star and Highwayman’s Sunday night pub quiz began to wane. He started to dress differently, his vintage T-shirts, faded jeans and hoodies began to disappear in favour of a smarter, if less original GAP and French Connection wardrobe. In an effort to involve Chelsea with his business he had let her change the décor, so some of his travel photographs had been removed in favour of contrived IKEA ‘art’. He was every inch the man in love and clearly very happy, but to Harri it seemed as if his identity was slowly being eroded away.

Unfortunately for Harri, Alex and Chelsea’s splendid isolation from his friends didn’t extend to her. Quite the opposite, in fact: Alex’s thankfulness at her introducing him to Chelsea knew no bounds, so he was constantly looking for opportunit ies to invite her to spend time with them. Worst of all, he happily informed Harri that Chelsea
liked
her and tried to encourage the friendship of ‘my two favourite ladies’.

Chelsea
liked
her. The phrase made Harri shudder whenever she heard it. She had nothing in common with the woman and found very little endearing about her, yet she couldn’t bring herself to be rude to Chelsea. After all, she was Alex’s girlfriend now and, whatever she might think, Harri wanted to support her best friend.

As far as Chelsea was concerned, however, the situation was slightly different from the picture she presented to Alex. When Harri was in the room it was an opportunity for Chelsea to compete – to make sure that Alex could see how superior she was to any other woman. No matter what Harri talked about, Chelsea could top it. Whatever Harri had done, Chelsea had done it better; whatever Harri had experienced, Chelsea had experienced it ten times more. In fact, it was quickly getting to the stage where Harri was choosing increasingly random topics of conversation just to see what Chelsea would come up with to challenge them. Of course, Alex couldn’t see it. Alex couldn’t see anything other than the woman who had stolen his heart.

Harri ended up confiding in Emily about it all, after a chance remark led to a full-blown conversation.

Since Emily had handed in her resignation, the wheels had been put in motion for establishing her new holiday business and she had enlisted Harri’s help with the mountain of tasks she faced. In return, she had offered meals at her lovely farmhouse home – something Harri was glad to accept, especially as Wednesday evening at Alex’s had turned into cringe-worthy Chelsea worship sessions. It was during dinner at Emily’s house, a couple of weeks before Stella made contact, that the topic of Chelsea had come up.

‘I popped into Wātea yesterday,’ Emily said, bringing a freshly brewed pot of coffee to the large, pine kitchen table as Fly padded around her feet. ‘It’s changed a bit in there recently, hasn’t it?’

Harri grimaced. ‘Yes, it has. But then so has Alex.’

Emily’s dark green eyes saw more than Harri had intended. ‘Really? How come?’

Normally, Harri would have laughed the question off, or changed the subject, but she found the opportunity to discuss the situation too inviting to decline. Emily listened intently, stroking Fly’s head as it rested on her knee, and when Harri had finished she reached across to place her hand on Harri’s arm.

‘Poor you. That’s a toughie, for sure.’

Harri sipped her coffee. ‘The worst thing is, I just feel so hypocritical. I don’t like Chelsea and I especially don’t like how Al is changing, but I care about him and I don’t want him to feel like he can’t share that part of his life with me.’

‘Isn’t there any way you can tell him how you feel?’ Emily asked, passing a plate of home-made white chocolate and walnut cookies to Harri.

‘No, because then I’d have to admit why I introduced him to Chelsea in the first place. If he knew the truth it would end our friendship for good.’

‘Well, for what it’s worth, I admire you for sticking in there. She sounds absolutely horrendous.’

It was nice to have someone who understood, but Emily’s reassuring words did little to quell the storm inside. So when Stella’s email arrived, it seemed a gift too good to ignore. In her lunchbreak, checking that George, Tom and Nus weren’t looking, she quickly typed a reply.