I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,97
soldier on a mission. Mary had made his job easy for him because the red diary he had given her was on the dressing table. He opened it, and scribbled, ‘Dinner with Jack, Firenze’ against January 11. His mouth was dry with anxiety and his heart had migrated into his eardrums and was keeping pace with the William Tell Overture. Firenze was the most fabulous restaurant in the whole of Yorkshire; there was nothing subtle about this move. Then he put the diary back in the place he had found it, and returned downstairs with no one any the wiser that he had taken the first step out of the prison of his own making. Maybe Mary would ignore it, save them both a pie in the face moment, or maybe she wouldn’t.
Jack felt the ship in his comfort-zone harbour jerk upwards on the anchor.
Chapter 29
‘I can do these by myself,’ said Bridge, filling up the bowl with water and Fairy Liquid. ‘Why don’t you go and rest by the fire, Charlie.’
‘I insist,’ he said. ‘Now, do you want to wash or dry?’
‘I’ll dry,’ said Bridge, going over to the drawer for a clean tea towel. A ‘Yorkshire Dictionary’ one this time. It was like a different language, she thought, reading it until Charlie had given her something to dry.
‘So when are you going to tell Luke that you’re still in love with him?’ Charlie asked, sponging potato from the first plate.
Bridge’s attention snapped to him. ‘What?’
‘You heard. When are you—’
‘You’re right, I did hear,’ said Bridge, her tone almost defensive, ‘but I’m not.’
‘I can spot a fake a mile off,’ said Charlie with a soft, knowing smile.
‘Sorry?’
Charlie reached for Bridge’s left hand, lifted it as if he were a prince about to kiss it.
‘I can spot a fake a mile off. I can smell one in fact, I’m that good,’ he said, tapping her engagement ring. ‘That’s not a diamond. It didn’t fool me and you don’t either. Now you’re not the type to wear a fake diamond on your hand, so what does that tell me? That you’re here to sign divorce papers but you don’t want to, and so you’re hiding behind this ring.’
Bridge snatched her hand away. ‘Come on, Charlie. Let’s get these plates done.’
Charlie dunked another plate into the water, put it on the draining board and Bridge picked it up and began to dry it. Another plate and another. Then Bridge broke the silence.
‘Ben’s my neighbour. He’s a wonderful man. He’s in his late fifties, unmarried, writes Midnight Moon romances under the pen name Benita Summers for a living and he writes them surprisingly well considering he’s never been romantically interested in women, or men for that matter. He considers himself quite lucky, being oddly free of that complication, he says. He’s beyond kind, a true friend and I adore him. That’s his happy place in life: friendship. He shops for pensioners, he looks after people’s cats if they’re on holiday and he makes cottage pies for his screwed-up neighbour when he thinks she’s too thin.’
‘Ah,’ said Charlie, not missing a beat as he rinsed the suds from a mug.
‘I haven’t gone into a lot of detail about him, so I don’t trip myself up with any lies. Most of what I’ve told Luke is true; that he’s clever and funny and caring, and he is. Sadly Ben and I will break off our “engagement” soon, before our wedding plans get too much underway.’
‘But, my dear Bridge, why even invent a fiancé?’ asked Charlie.
‘I don’t know, pride I suppose. Luke had someone serious and I hadn’t. I didn’t want him to think I was unlovable.’ She smiled, a sad smile, kept her eyes lowered.
‘You’re very lovable, Bridge. If I weren’t a married gay man, I should be courting you with diamonds.’
Bridge hiccupped a laugh, wiped a rogue tear from the corner of her eye with the heel of her hand.
‘Luke is too,’ said Charlie. ‘I imagine once you have loved him, it would be very hard to unlove him, wouldn’t it?’
‘Luke and I aren’t good for each other. We don’t work. We had great sex but it came at too high a price. He and Carmen sound amazing together.’
Charlie nudged her shoulder.
‘Cupid’s a little bastard sometimes, isn’t he?’
Bridge laughed. ‘Yes, he’s a total wanker.’
‘You and Luke, Jack and Mary. One of you with a golden arrow stuck in you, the other one he’s pinged full of lead.’