‘You’re quite small, really, which means I can easily catch you… I’m… I’m prettysureI can.’
Juliette scowled down at him, and with a distinct wobble to her voice, she said, ‘In spite of your positive assertion, the delivery of it leads me to believe the contrary.’
He squared his broad shoulders and took a wide, arms-open stance beneath her. ‘No, no, Icando it. Just be sure to pushoffthe shelf so you don’t hit yourself on the way down. I’m ready when you are.’
She gulped. ‘If anything… you know…badhappens, my diary and my phone are in my bag, which is under the main desk. My emergency contacts are in both.’
‘Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.’
She peered down at him and saw sincerity in his beautiful eyes. Eyes that she had longed to gaze into ever since she first laidherson him.
He smiled. ‘I promise I won’t tell everyone you fell for me.’ His smile turned into a grin, but it quickly disappeared as if he realised he had been rather inappropriate. ‘I mean… I didn’t…’ He appeared to be scrabbling around his mind for the words to undo his comment and blurted, ‘I’ll take you to the refectory for a cake when you’re down here, shall I?’ His colour drained, telling her he felt he’d made the situation worse. ‘I-I only mean because sugar helps with shock, I-I’ve been led to believe.’
Her heart melted at his awkwardness and she thought to herself.You can tell everyone I’ve fallen for you… it is the truth, after all. Instead, she said, ‘I’m holding you to that offer of cake,’ in the hope it would let him know she wasn’t offended.
‘Great. I’m quite partial to death by chocolate.’ He cringed again and she guessed it was at his mention of death. He clearly chose not to dwell on his faux pas. ‘Now, come on, before they run out.’
She nodded with determination. ‘Okay. I’m letting go now.’ She took a deep breath and released her grip on the shelves…
1
Eight years later
Why the hell didn’t I drive into town? Why the hell did I come in the first place? Stupid, stupid woman. Why didn’t I realise going on a date was a mistake of epic proportions?Juliette pondered the answers to these and many other questions as she hid in the alleyway beside the upmarket restaurant.
She’d given up wiping at her eyes now. The icy rain that battered against her skin mingled with her tears so no one would even realise she was crying. Not that anyone could see her. The walls surrounding her were shielding her from public view but doing nothing to protect her from the deluge. For goodness sake, she couldn’t evenhideproperly.
Every time she thought of the confused expression on Peter’s face, and the way he glanced around in embarrassment as she completely lost it, her own face crumpled again. What the hell must he have thought? The poor,poorman. He hadn’t asked to date a neurotic, snivelling loony. He hadn’t asked for his date to freak out before the food was even ordered. But, then again, Juliette hadn’t asked to be a widow at the age of thirty-four.
A breeze whipped its way down the alley, curling around her bare legs, causing her to wrap her arms tighter around her body and ruffling her freshly straightened, mousy brown hair.
So much for spring.
Earlier in the evening, she had stood before her full-length mirror, but the reflection staring back was one she hardly recognised. Gone were the curves she had owned proudly when Laurie was with her. Gone were the bright eyes filled with hope and happiness. Now she was gaunt, pale and clothing that had once clung in all the right places hung shapelessly from her fragile-looking frame.
As she had riffled through her wardrobe, the only thing that had seemed suitable for a night out was her little flimsy summer dress. It hadn’t appeared to be such a problem when the sunshine had cast a merry gleam over everything outside her bedroom window. Her long, natural waves had been tamed with a straightening iron and she had even applied a little blush and lip gloss to detract from the bizarre glow her almost translucent skin cast.
‘I look like a bloody vampire,’ she had whinged as she stared into the eyes of the woman in the mirror.
Her best friend, Millie, was having none of her negativity. ‘You look absolutely stunning, Jules. Peter will almost certainly fall for you. And if he doesn’t, he’s gay and in serious denial.’
Now, though, standing outside in the alley in the pouring rain, Juliette felt like a complete and utter arse. Not only was her dress inappropriate for the inclement weather that had descended, but she had made a total fool of herself on her first date since Laurie had died two years ago.
Who the hell has a meltdown over the bloody wine list?
Of course, it was nothing whatsoever to do with the wine list, but Peter wasn’t to know that. Nor were the nosey buggers sitting on the other tables. Oh, the judgment in their eyes; the pity and the amusement too. She’d be the talk of Mistford, no doubt, when the news reached there.
Her whole body juddered as she dialled Millie’s number. She wasn’t sure if the shaking was due to the Icelandic blast surrounding her, or the utter shock of what had just happened. Or, more to the point, what she hadallowedto happen. She was crazy to think she could make such a bold step. In fact, she was verging on idiotic to think she was anywhere near ready to do such a thing.
More tears fell as Millie answered her call. ‘Hey, honey. Why are you calling so early? I thought you’d be—’
‘Please, Millie, can you c-come and g-get me? I just can’t… He was…’ she sobbed and her words became inaudible blubs and mumbles.
‘Juliette, why are you crying?’ Millie only ever used her full name when she was peed off or worried. ‘You’re at Alessandro’s, right?’
‘Yes,’ Juliette managed to reply, and she prepared to explain as briefly as possible. ‘You see—’
‘Stay there. I’ll get to you as soon as I can.’ The words rushed out and Juliette could hear the urgency in her best friend’s voice. There was definitely conclusion-jumping afoot.
