Just the Way You Are Page 9

  Just keep swimming/reading.

  20.

  Gemma felt even more nervous than she had before a first date, as she got ready to meet up with Daniel again. She first tried on a summer dress her sister had bought her with a plunging neckline, which she rarely wore. Hmm, it’s suggestive. And it promises even more. Maybe not. Gemma consigned the outfit to the back of the wardrobe again. The next dress she modelled in front of the mirror had a neckline which went up to her chin. Gemma recalled how she had once worn the outfit to a funeral. In the end Gemma settled for a sky-blue A-line dress from Hobbs which made her look neither too keen/desperate nor like a nun. She also decided to wear a pair of platinum droplet earrings that Daniel had once bought her. She put on some lipstick, but not too much. Gemma also dabbed her neck and wrists with the perfume she knew her ex liked.

  Daniel booked a table at the Canteen, next to the Royal Festival Hall.

  If her heart beat faster upon seeing him again then Gemma considered that there may still be a spark between them (if there had ever been a spark between them in the first place). Daniel was already sitting outside when Gemma arrived early. Unfortunately her heart was beating so fast from anxiety that she couldn’t tell if it was also pulsating from something else.

  He initially seemed as nervous as her. His hand was clammy as she shook it. They tentatively and awkwardly, almost comically so, leaned into one another and kissed each other on the cheek. Gemma noticed how Daniel’s figure and face had filled out during the time since she had last met him. Some might say he looked “healthy” for putting on a bit of weight. Victoria would probably say he looked “too healthy”, Gemma mused. Saving the world via Medal of Honour on Xbox was all well and good but it wasn’t exactly proper exercise. He was dressed in a lime green Ben Sherman shirt and freshly pressed chinos (Gemma suspected that Daniel’s mum still came over to do his ironing). The belt on his trousers was fastened into its last hole, she noticed. He had cut his hair shorter and looked better for it. His new glasses made him look younger and trendier.

  The sticky evening heat was tempered by an occasional breath of wind. The scene was awash with colour and sounds. Endless streams of theatre goers, tourists and people checking out the nearby food market flowed in various directions. They all faded into the background however as Gemma focused on the task of ordering a drink when she sat down. A Latvian waiter, who struggled as much with his English as he did from keeping a floppy fringe out of his face, attended to the couple. Gemma ordered a glass of white wine and a glass of water, whilst Daniel asked for another bottle of beer.

  Whilst waiting for their drinks Gemma felt compelled to pick up a menu and fan herself. The short, polite silence between them was now broken as they chatted about the weather. Gemma called the heat “languid” and commented that it was fitting for the Southbank centre to put on a season of Tennessee Williams plays. Daniel brought up the fact that he had heard on the radio that it was the second hottest day of the year. The drinks arrived and Gemma immediately took a gulp of wine and sip of water. Another brief silence ensued, although it seemed to stretch out between them like a yawn, before Daniel spoke again.

  “You’re looking good, Gem.”

  “You’re looking well too.”

  “Are those the earrings that I bought you?”

  “Yes.” Gemma blushed after she replied and tossed her hair back (flirtatiously?) to show the earrings off some more. She recalled when he had bought them for her, early in their relationship. Daniel had placed the earrings in a DVD copy of My Best Friend’s Wedding. It had been one of her favourite films, back then. He could surprise me, back then.

  Daniel left it for Gemma to decide whether they should have a starter or not. He was pleased when she said yes, as it meant she wanted a long evening with him – and she wasn’t regretting coming after seeing him again. Daniel was also pleased Gemma said yes as he was hungry. Aside from a large lunch and packet of crisps, he hadn’t eaten all day.

  Whilst they waited for their food to arrive Daniel asked about Gemma’s career. She refrained from saying anything about the current author she was trying to sell and the recent panic in the office. She gave a brief summary of what she thought was interesting and merely replied that all was well. More detail would have only confused or bored him, Gemma reasoned. She also suspected that he was just being polite and that he was pretending to listen to her blather on about her job. It was an improvement though on Daniel’s part. Just before they broke up he didn’t even pretend to listen to her nor did he seem to care when she spoke about her work. Daniel then asked after Abbie.

  “Is she seeing anyone?”

  Gemma was tempted to reply that her friend was seeing everyone, but she desisted. Gemma proceeded to ask about Daniel’s work.

  “Things are the same as usual. If I just keep things ticking over I should get a promotion by the end of the year. And I’ll get another one after two years there, all things being equal. I just need to stick it out,” the accountant remarked, before popping another piece of a bread roll in his mouth.

  Gemma ordered a bottle, rather than a glass, of white wine when the starters came. She didn’t think to order any more water. She asked after his friends and pretended to listen with avid interest accordingly.

  The food was fine, if unspectacular. Gemma ordered watercress and radish salad with orange dressing to start. And the cheddar tart for her main course. Daniel ordered the squid to start and rib-eye steak for main course, with a couple of side orders. The waiter’s broken English meant that it almost took a longer time to get the order in than it did to consume the food but Pietr was keen and polite, if even more gormless-looking than a Miliband. The drink flowed more freely than the conversation, though things were far from overly stilted. There was always going to be much that remained unsaid between them. After a pause, made slightly longer from Daniel taking a several swigs of beer, he finally brought up the past – and a prospective future.

  “I’m sorry how things ended Gemma – and that they ended… We probably needed time apart so as to realise that we missed each other… I know that I can be a bit self-absorbed… There’s not been anyone else since you… I’m glad you got in touch again…”

  The break-up had indeed granted Daniel time and space to realise how much he missed Gemma. He was a catch, he believed. But she was a catch too. A trophy girlfriend, almost. Gemma of course wasn’t in her sister’s league in terms of looks and style but she could still turn the heads of his friends and inspire envy if she accompanied him to a work event, he considered. He missed the sex too and the home cooked meals. He missed going away with her. He remembered their last holiday together in Lisbon. They would sit by the pool in their four star resort. She would read while he would be on the next sun lounger, topping up his tan. They were all but married back then. Perhaps he should have done more to put a ring on her finger. He could do a lot worse than her, Daniel thought in earnest. Should this night lead to something he would still casually see Jasmine, one of the secretaries in the office, for a while. But should things get serious and if he moved in with Gemma again then he would be willing to end the office romance. Jasmine would get over him by getting under someone else, he joked to himself.

  It was now night time. The flame from the recently lit candles danced in Gemma’sr eyes. The wine had dissolved most of her inhibitions and sense of apprehension. She listened on intently to her former boyfriend. Understanding. Flattered. Smiling.

  He seems to have changed. He was never this honest about his feelings before… I suppose I was just as self-absorbed as him during the relationship. But more than yourself, tell him that! Say sorry too… I should give him, me, a second chance… I’ve missed him also, I think, in some ways… I want to come home to someone. I don’t want to just go to bed with a good book for company any more… No more internet or speed dating… I want to be with someone, before it’s too late… When you reach your thirties all the men will be either married or deservedly divorced by then…
We may not be a perfect fit, but who is? There are more ill-suited couples out there who are able to stay together and who seem happy enough. And happy enough together is a preferable fate than being alone and unhappy…

  Daniel insisted on paying the bill, no arguments. Gemma argued a little, before the accountant explained that he could put the dinner on expenses and say that he had taken a client out.

  As they departed from the restaurant people also came pouring out the doors to the Royal Festival Hall. Their faces were flushed from the muggy heat and they were all gushing in their praise for the performance they had just seen. Despite the number of men and women of all ages around her Gemma couldn’t help but notice how uniform the comments were. The play and performances barely got beyond being “amazing”, “fantastic” or “unreal”.

  As the couple walked towards Waterloo Station they found themselves holding hands. Daniel offered to see Gemma all the way home to Battersea, despite it being out of his way. He also invited her back to his place. Gemma thanked him but replied that she would be fine – that she had a meeting to prepare for for work.

  They paused as they reached half way up the stairs to the station. The muggy air could have also been described as sultry. Daniel stood close to Gemma and breathed in her perfume. He liked her perfume more than she liked his aftershave. Desire, affection and attractiveness all hung within his tanned expression.

  “Thanks for getting in contact. And thanks for this evening. It was fun catching up. Let me know if you want to do it again soon. We can take things fast or slow, it’s up to you Gem… I should say that I’m going to be busy over the next couple of days though,” Daniel remarked, remembering how he had promised his cousin that he would spend some quality Halo time with him. Daniel had also arranged to take Jasmine out the night after that.

  “Let me think about things. I hope that’s okay,” Gemma replied. At best she wanted to take things slow. Between dessert and now she had suffered another wave of doubt. She didn’t know if she was swimming or drowning.

  What’s wrong with me? Am I just being too cowardly, difficult and snobby? Pick someone and settle… But I want something more, different and better… There are Tory politicians who flip-flop on Europe less than I do in regards to what, or who, I want…

  “Of course that’s understandable and okay. There’s no pressure. Let me give you something else to think about though.”

  Daniel leaned forward and pulled Gemma towards him. He kissed her. She let him – and she kissed him back. But something was wrong. The kiss wasn’t amazing, fantastic or unreal she realised. The kiss, the feeling, wasn’t like the one she had experienced the week before.

  Last week had felt like something more, different and better.

  21.

  When Gemma checked her phone on the train back to Battersea she noticed three missed calls from her sister, accompanied by two text messages asking her to call back. Gemma was too emotionally exhausted by her own problems to have to deal with anyone else’s and turned off her phone.

  As Gemma walked down the High Street, past a number of bars and restaurants, the sound of laughter from couples seemed to heckle her. Yet she was determined to tell Daniel tomorrow that it was best they just remained friends. I don’t love him. She was determined to prove that being alone didn’t necessary mean being unhappy. A storm rumbled in the distance as she walked from the station to her house. The temperature dropped a little and the air became damp. She quickened her pace to avoid the impending downpour. The shower would make her hair go frizzy almost immediately – but at the same Gemma felt the sudden desire to feel the rain upon her face. If nothing else, it would mask her tears.

  The more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love.

  *

  Gemma was not the only one to have been crying that night however. When she reached home she found her sister sitting in her living room, tears having cut scars through her make-up. Abbie had looked after Victoria as best she could, by opening a bottle of wine. When Gemma came into the room however Abbie excused herself to leave her flatmate to console Victoria alone.

  The rain thrummed on the windowpane and lightning jutted through the night sky. Victoria’s hair was out of place and she was wearing just a plain white (Alexander McQueen) summer dress and white pumps but she still looked annoyingly stylish.

  “What’s wrong?” Gemma asked, perching herself on the arm of the sofa which her sister was sitting on. She clasped Victoria’s hand, which seemed unnaturally cold and limp.

  “It’s over. Sorry for coming over like this but I had no one else to talk to.” With her free, slightly trembling hand, Victoria topped up her glass of wine. Gemma took Abbie’s glass and moved it to within pouring distance.

  “Don’t be silly. It’s fine. I’m sorry that I couldn’t reply earlier. I’ve been out – and the battery on my phone died.”

  “I’ve left Oliver. Or he left me. Not that we were even really together. We were supposed to have dinner tonight. He came over but then he got a call from his wife and he said he needed to go back home. We had a blazing row. I said that he was never going to leave his wife and he replied that I was right. He even then said that I was naïve to ever believe his promises that he would separate from her. Wives are wives and mistresses are mistresses, was his argument.”

  Victoria bowed down and rested her head on her hand. Gemma couldn’t remember the last time she had looked so vulnerable. Victoria drew breath. She had sobbed during the row and, recalling it, she commenced to sob again. Gemma moved closer to her sister and put an arm around her. She was now close to tears as well, seeing her sister so distressed.

  Victoria gained some semblance of control once more and continued. “I gave him an ultimatum that he needed to choose between his wife and his mistress. It wasn’t just that I realised I was being naïve to think he would chose to leave Lavinia for me, I realised that even if he picked me I wouldn’t want him. In my heart of hearts I know that I never loved him. Dad said, months ago, that I was more attracted to the people and life Oliver introduced me to rather than Oliver himself. At the time I denied it, but Dad was right I think – as usual. Years ago Dad also said something that I’ll always remember. He quoted Jane Austen, as usual. ‘A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of’. He was being sarcastic, I think, but I took the philosophy to heart… I’d always get on my high horse when anyone thought that I was just a trophy girlfriend. But the truth is it used to just be my ambition to be a trophy wife… Oliver told me plenty of lies but I told myself even more. In the end I was like an ornament to him – or a favourite outfit that he would wear on special occasions… I bet you saw through him like Dad though, too?”

  “I thought Oliver was too dense to be able to see through him,” Gemma joked, in an attempt to cheer her sister up. “But I thought that it wasn’t really my place to say anything. I just wanted you to be happy. There was always the chance that Oliver was your Mr Right.” There was sympathy in Gemma’s tone and, as she spoke, she held her sister’s face in her hand and brushed away a tear with her thumb, as though she were now an elder sister looking after a younger sibling.

  “And there is always a chance that Naomi Campbell could turn out to be a pleasant human being. Or that Kate McCann is innocent.”

  Gemma shook her head but also smiled – thinking that her sister was on the way to getting back to her old self.

  *

  The storm abated. Gemma and Victoria moved on to hot chocolate after their wine. Due to the late hour and alcohol Gemma invited her sister to stay. They both tucked their legs beneath them on the sofa and chatted long into the night.

  “So how was your evening? Better than mine I expect,” Victoria asked.

  “It was, but not by a huge margin unfortunately. I was out with Daniel. I suppose I was looking to see if there was any spark worth rekindling. But there wasn’t. It’s best we just stay friends – and friends that barely se
e each other.”

  Victoria widened her eyes in alarm that her sister had considered getting back with the dynamically dull accountant. Gemma shrugged her shoulders to convey that she was fine, although Victoria could see that her sister was hurting.

  “Perhaps we can get a spinster’s discount, two for one, at the bingo hall when we get old. I thought you might have been out with that author who I saw you with at the party last week. I noticed the way he looked at you. I also noticed the wedding ring on his finger though.”

  “I noticed that too. I also noticed how he said that he loved his wife, just after he kissed me.”

  “Ouch. A good, single, man is hard to find. They can’t all be bastards though, surely. We may have to bow to the inevitable and let Mum or Dad find husbands for us.”

  Gemma nearly choked on her hot chocolate before laughing. She laughed despite, or because, of the sense of doom. If Victoria could have anyone – but she still had no one – then what chance did Gemma have of finding her prince charming?

  “I’ll plump for the cricketer, whilst you can have the UKIP councillor,” Gemma said, fleetingly thinking that the scenario was not totally beyond the realms of possibility.

  “It’s a deal. Of course I’ll probably consider my husband far too left-wing still. But we shouldn’t abandon all hope of finding someone special. Did you get to meet George Fuller at your dinner, for instance?”

  “Yes. And one of the only things I can tell you is that he doesn’t like Oliver.”

  “Handsome and a good judge of character. Tick. Tick. But I heard he’s a bit of a player. I’m probably the only model in London who he hasn’t dated. Is he a bastard too?”

  “Maybe, but maybe not.” Gemma genuinely didn’t know, and she still couldn’t work out her feelings in regards to Thomas.