His Irresistible Darling - Sarah Randall Page 0,89
to listen to him bad-mouth her. She left the room rather than cause a scene. A kid would have just screamed abuse right back at him and probably slapped him—” he looked up at his friend “—which he would have deserved.” He took a gulp from his beer.
“Yeah but she annoyed the hell out of you,” Malik continued, undeterred.
Jumal’s head shot up again. His friend was really starting to piss him off. “I loved it—loved her,” he spat back at his friend before realising what he’d confessed.
Malik grinned triumphantly at him before he cocked his head to one side. “About bloody time. So what are you going to do about it?”
Jumal took a deep breath. “I need to go and see my parents.”
Chapter Thirteen
Oh what hideous aptness, she thought, rolling her eyes at the random choice on her iPod playlist, before pressing the shuffle button. “Leaving on a Jet Plane”. Nope. Next. “Ever Fallen in Love with Someone?” Not on your life. Next. Fate was clearly a premenstrual bitch with a terrible sense of humour.
“Miss. Excuse me, miss.”
Pip dragged out her earphones and apologised to the young chap who was anxious to finish boarding her flight.
She took one last look around at the now empty gate. “Oh right, here you go,” she said, handing him the boarding card and showing him her passport as she took one last hopeless look over her shoulder. Nope. No Jumal running desperately down the corridor shouting her name, ala Ross and Rachel. She checked her phone. No desperate last-minute calls from him begging her to stay. No happy romcom ending like the one she’d watched all those weeks ago, lying on Jumal’s bed. She closed her eyes and told herself to keep it together as she accepted the small torn boarding card and picked up her carry-on bag.
Fate clearly hadn’t finished with her yet as she found herself sitting next to a honeymooning couple…but at least they spent most of the long flight wrapped around each other and ignoring her. Once in the air, she flipped through her iPod until she finally found something appropriate. It irritated her immensely that most of her music catalogue somehow now reminded her of Jumal or something that they’d done together. Eventually she landed on the Arctic Monkeys. Ah, men from Yorkshire… Perfect antidote to the exotic Jumal, she thought as she scrolled through the pictures on her in-flight-mode phone: random shots of Dubain scenery, she and Melina at her birthday party, the Bedouin camp, camels, she and Jake at the summit, a sleeping Shrek… Her fingers hovered over the buttons for a brief moment until she could no longer see the picture through the glare of her tear-filled eyes. She pressed “delete”.
Pip reached for the pack of tissues with one hand and grabbed a handful of Haribos with the other. Times were very desperate and she was peeved that she could no longer eat Smarties without collapsing into floods of tears at the memories they caused. Bastard had a lot to answer for.
She blew her nose and quickly cut off the thought that if Jumal could see her now he’d probably run away with horror… Nope. Not going down that rabbit hole again.
She wiped her eyes behind her glasses and heard a gentle knock on her door. She discarded the used tissues on the floor at her side to join the growing pile.
She sniffed before shouting, “Yep. Come in.”
Ana popped her head around the door before opening it widely. “Oh, honey,” she said, all motherly, before closing the door quickly behind her. “Don’t cry,” she beseeched, joining Pip on the bed and grabbing her hand.
“I’m not crying about him, well not right now. I’m watching a film,” she told her, nodding towards the wall-mounted television on the far wall. Ana followed her gaze.
“Marley and Me?” she asked stunned. “You better not let George see this. You know how sensitive he is. So,” Ana continued, flopping down on Pip’s bed. “Feel like hitting Leeds this weekend? We can celebrate your new job.” She smiled mischievously. “Plus, Alix is coming up and I need you to help me keep him under control. You know what he’s like when his fans recognise him. Plus, I can’t keep up with his dancing on my own. You have to share the load with me!” she begged, holding her hands together in prayer, beseeching.
“Okay, okay,” Pip agreed. “Sounds like fun.” God she hated that word. FUN.