She turned her head in what felt like slow motion and there he was. Those dark, dark eyes, thickly lashed and as bright as coal, were watching her reaction. The tangled black curls were damp from the rain. He was wearing a dark grey sweater and faded jeans and he smelled exactly the same as he always had in her dreams.
Poppy wondered if she was dreaming, but no, she was fairly sure this was real.
Oh damn, she thought vainly, why didn’t I listen to Jake? What kind of a gormless Gertie do I look like with my mouth hanging open and my chewing gum on show?
But it was no good wishing she’d got make-up on, or that her hair could be looking a bit more glam, a bit less as if it had been given a brief going over with an egg whisk. This was the day the extraordinary coincidence she had waited for for so long had actually happened. She was wearing a battered sweatshirt and her least flattering leggings—the ones with the exhausted Lycra, that gave her wrinkled knees like an elephant’s—but it was no good panicking because there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
By some miracle, at least Tom had still recognized her.
Hastily, before it fell out of her open mouth and put him off completely, Poppy swallowed her gum.
‘My God, it’s you! How amazing… Jake, this is someone I haven’t seen for ages… his name’s Tom… and this… this is Jake…’
Poppy’s voice trailed away. Introductions always floored her; she could never remember the proper way, which had something to do with age, but how were you supposed to go about it if you didn’t know who was the eldest, ask to see their driving licenses before you began?
‘I think she’s in shock,’ said Jake. ‘Poppy, are you okay? Do you want to sit down?’
‘I really wish I’d thrown these leggings away now,’ said Poppy. She gripped the sides of the cashbox until her fingers ached and forced herself to concentrate. She needed to pull herself together, fast. What must Tom think?
‘It’s—it’s great to see you again,’ she heard herself stammer idiotically. ‘Is there something you’re in-in-interested in, or are you just having a browse?’
Tom said, ‘Oh no, there’s definitely something I’m in-in-interested in.’
He was teasing her. It struck Poppy that he didn’t seem nearly as astounded to see her as she was seeing him. She tried to say something sensible, without stammering, but her chewing gum had got itself wedged at epiglottis level. This time all that came out was a mousy squeak.
‘Lost for words,’ observed Jake. ‘Now there’s a first.’
‘And here we are, making fun of her.’ Tom grinned and ran a finger lightly over her knuckles, white where they still clutched the cashbox. ‘I suppose we aren’t being very fair. Poppy, this isn’t a coincidence. I didn’t just happen to be passing. Jake found me.’
This was getting more bizarre by the minute. Behind Tom, an old dear in an ochre trench coat was hissing crossly, ‘If you’d move out of my way, young man, I’d quite like to have a look at that Staffordshire pig.’
Poppy swallowed again. This time the chewing gum went down and stayed down.
‘Jake what? What d’you mean, found you?’
With some pride, Jake said, ‘I advertised.’
Was this how it felt to be electrocuted? Poppy shook her head.
‘Advertised how?’
‘In all the papers. But that didn’t work.’ Jake was beaming like a new father. ‘So we tried newsstands’ windows. And bingo.’
She knew she was parroting everything they said, but it was all she was capable of just now.
‘You put an advert in a newsstand’s window,’ Poppy said carefully. She turned to Tom. ‘And you saw it?’
‘Well, the girl who lives in the flat downstairs saw it, and remembered me telling her about the night we met.’
He’d told other people about her…
‘And it wasn’t actually me who put the ad in that window,’ said Jake, not to be outdone. ‘It was Claudia.’
Tom took Poppy to a tiny restaurant just off Kensington High Street. Like a sleepwalker, Poppy allowed herself to be helped into her seat.
‘Jake was right, by the way, about me being lost for words. I’m not usually like this.’
‘Look,’ said Tom, ‘maybe there’s something we should get straight before we go any further. Is my turning up out of the blue a nice surprise or a bloody awful shock? Are you happy about it or not?’
‘God yes, of course I’m happy.’ Flustered, Poppy realized she sounded like some hopeless lovestruck groupie. ‘I mean… I mean…’
‘Good.’ Beneath the table, Tom’s foot touched hers. His smile reassured her. ‘Seeing as Jake’s been to all this trouble. Imagine how offended he’d be if we took one look at each other and went Ugh!’
‘Dina told me she’d bumped into you. She lost your address. I wanted to kill her!’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll do it when we next see her.’ He lit a cigarette and exhaled with relief. ‘It’ll make up for all those weeks afterwards, twitching every time the phone rang and being disappointed when it wasn’t you.’
‘I saw you, just before Christmas.’ The words began tumbling out. ‘At a petrol station. I tried to get your attention but you disappeared so fast—’
‘What I don’t understand,’ said Tom, ‘is why you didn’t turn up at Delgado’s that night. Did you think I wouldn’t be there?’
‘I knew you would be there. I did turn up. I saw you at that table in the window.’ There was so much to say, so many things to explain. A waitress was hovering behind them. Poppy glanced at the menu in her hand, knowing she wouldn’t be able to eat.
‘It’s okay, you choose,’ Tom told the waitress. ‘Anything you like. And a bottle of something to go with it.’
‘I panicked,’ Poppy admitted when they were alone once more. ‘I was meant to be getting married. Meeting you wasn’t supposed to happen.’
Tom grinned. ‘I think it was. Anyway, you didn’t get married.’
‘I couldn’t.’
‘Can’t have been easy.’
‘It was awful. Like the end bit of The Graduate, but without anyone to jump on the bus with. In the end, I jumped on by myself,’ Poppy said dryly, ‘and came to London. Before I could be burned at the stake.’
‘What about your family?’ Tom stubbed out his cigarette, half-smoked. ‘Were they okay about it? Did you ever regret calling off the wedding?’
‘Not for an instant.’ He was running an index finger idly over the veins on the inside of her wrist. Distracted, Poppy trembled with pleasure. ‘As for my family… I would never have found my real father if it hadn’t been for you.’
Tom frowned. ‘You’ve lost me.’
‘It’s a long story. And no, I haven’t lost you,’ said Poppy, realizing that there was simply no point in being coy. ‘I’ve found you. God, that sounds cheesy.’ Laughing, she buried her face in her hands. ‘I can’t believe I just said it.’
‘Here comes the food. We’re going to have to pretend to eat.’
Their eyes locked. Over the worst of the shock now, Poppy had begun to relax. The last time they had met, it had been the middle of the night, pitch-black, and tropically warm. Ever since, trying to conjure up a mental image of Tom, she had only been able to picture him in darkness.
Now, almost a year later, it was daylight. Unforgiving drizzly grey daylight at that. It was a huge relief to discover he was as breathtakingly handsome as she remembered. The sight of him still made her stomach disappear.
The magic was still there. Remembering her elephant-kneed leggings and out-of-control hair, Poppy amended that. It was still there, on her side at least.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Tom.
‘I wish I wasn’t wearing these clothes.’
‘You look fine.’
‘I can look better.’
‘I know.’ That knee-trembling grin reappeared. Heavens, he was gorgeous.
‘Everything all right?’ inquired the waitress, who evidently thought so too. She was addressing Tom. Poppy, watching the way she looked at him, spotted the quick glance down at his left hand. The ring-check, every single girl’s reflexive response to a good-looking man…
Poppy followed the waitress’s gaze.
‘Oh bloody hell, I don’t believe it,’ she wailed. ‘You’re married!’