We screeched off like Thelma and Louise and a rather stunned but pretty pleased-with-herself third passenger.
‘Who was that man, Daryl?’
‘Was that Will, your hunky neighbour, Will?’
‘Why didn’t you take the flowers?’
‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Daryl!’
The car was whizzing round the corner, like a not-very-good getaway car. I leant forward and stuck my head in between the front seats.
‘Bloody hell, what a night! Thank you for rescuing me, you two! You’ve saved my life. I’ve got no idea how I would have got home otherwise.’
‘No problem!’ This was Peony. She looked all bright and fresh, in the passenger seat. She was wearing a chunky cream roll-neck and had her hair in a cute ponytail. ‘Who was the guy?’
‘Believe it or not, that was my neighbour, Will. He wanted to give me a bunch of flowers to apologise for kissing me and I’m rather proud I didn’t take them.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Peony.
‘So, it was that Will!’ Sam interrupted, navigating a cyclist and two London buses.
‘Don’t go in the bus lane, Sam,’ yelled Peony. ‘You’ll get nicked!’
‘Spoilsport,’ said Sam, pulling out of the bus lane again. She had a raincoat on and an Alice-band I’d never seen before. It was slipping off the back off her head and she was moving it back up again, with one hand. She turned to face me. ‘Daryl, that was Will. I told you he fancied you! Why didn’t you take the bloody flowers?’
‘He doesn’t fancy me! And I don’t want sympathy flowers,’ I said. ‘I don’t want apology flowers. I don’t want guilty-neighbour-regrets-Halloween-kiss flowers.’
‘Hang on, you kissed your neighbour!’ exclaimed Peony. ‘I presume he’s the hunky neighbour…’
‘Yep,’ I sighed. ‘I kissed him last night. Or he kissed me, or whatever. That was him. And, yes, gorgeous, isn’t he?’
‘Well, I couldn’t get a really good look at him…’ said Peony.
‘Oh, trust me, he’s gorgeous,’ I moaned. ‘Too bloody gorgeous. I was over at his for Halloween. We saw off all the neighbourhood kids, then we kissed, then he told me it was wrong, and I went home.’
‘Blimey,’ said Peony. ‘I have been out of the loop.’
‘Yes,’ scolded Sam. ‘The sooner you get married, the better. We need you back as a fully-functioning member of our gossip circle.’
‘Right, what else has been going on I don’t know about?’ Peony asked. ‘For god’s sake, Sam, use two hands!’
‘Sorry,’ said Sam. ‘It’s this bloody Alice-band.’ She pulled it off and hurled it onto the back seat.
‘Well, it’s been quite a week,’ I sighed. I had one hand on each headrest, for balance. I knew what Sam’s driving was like. ‘Here’s a potted summary: Sam did a love forecast for me on Sunday, which told me I had a ninety-nine percent chance of falling in love with someone by Friday – which has resulted in me, since Monday, kissing three different guys, going speed dating and cookery dating, attending a posh party in Richmond, and generally being out every night like some sort of dirty stop-out. It’s been exhausting.’ I was exhausted, and I was still reeling from my encounter with Will, to be honest. I leant my forehead against Sam’s headrest.
‘Oh right,’ nodded Peony, taking it all in. ‘Blimey… three guys, in a week..? So, was one of them the bloke from the speed dating? The one you went on a date with on Tuesday? Ben, wasn’t it?’
‘Yep, Ben,’ I said, sitting up again. ‘Too much of a party boy. Not for me. Number two was not-so-Sexy-Dex the slimeball, at Wednesday’s cookery singles night, who stuck his tongue down my throat without asking.’
‘Eew.’
‘And number three was Will.’ It was obvious to anyone that out of the three he was the best, by far. Especially to me. But nothing would never ever happen with him again. I almost had the flowers to prove it.
‘Right. That’s it,’ said Peony, folding her arms. ‘I’m so getting back in the loop. The wedding planning’s virtually done now. I promise we’re going to get back on track and get together loads more from now on.’
‘Good girl,’ I said, then I looked to Sam. ‘Sam, why did you say you hope I know what I’m doing? When I first got in the car?’
‘Because I hope you do.’
‘Well, what do you mean?’
‘Daryl,’ she sighed. ‘I know you think that forecast thing was a load of old hooey, but have you fallen in love this week? At all?’
‘No, of course I haven’t!’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Yes, of course I am! Hey, watch out for that man!’
Sam veered suddenly to the right and beeped the horn. A cyclist, in Lycra, gave her the finger from beyond Peony’s window.
‘Sorry!’ Sam shouted then she indicated to turn right. ‘Daryl, Daryl, Daryl,’ she exhaled. ‘You’re a bloody idiot!’
‘What?’
‘What?’ This came from Peony.
‘You’ve fallen in love with Will, haven’t you?’
‘No, I haven’t!
‘Yes, you have, and he’s in love with you.’
‘What the hell! What the hell are you going on about, Sam?’
‘Yes, Sam,’ said Peony turning to her with an amused look on her face. ‘Explain what the hell you’re going on about.’
‘Look,’ said Sam, ‘A man doesn’t just walk around in the rain, looking for a woman, when he’s not sure where she’ll be and when. He didn’t know you’d be outside Caspar’s at that exact time of night, did he–’
‘– well, no, I just told him I had the graduation and the dinner – I didn’t say where or when…’
‘So he came looking for you. A man doesn’t come looking for a woman at this time of night – in the pouring rain – with flowers unless he likes her. Really likes her’
‘But the flowers were an apology,’ I protested. ‘Because he made a mistake. He said so. He said–’
‘I heard what he said. I heard it all. Is it within the realms of possibility that he made a mistake because he stopped kissing you, because he let you go…?
‘No, not at all, not at all, Sam. I know he regretted that kiss. It was a bad idea, it…’
‘Do you regret that kiss?
‘No.’ I sat back against the seat and closed my eyes.
‘I saw how he looked at you, Daryl. He doesn’t regret it either.’
‘Oh, Sam,’ I said, opening my eyes again and shaking my head at her. ‘Are you sure you’ve not got your head in the clouds again? Are we venturing into mumbo jumbo territory? Are you going to start going on about the stars?’
‘No, I’m not. And I haven’t got my head in the clouds,’ said Sam. ‘My feet are firmly on the ground. But you, my friend, have got your head in the sand. He likes you, I’m telling you. The whole searching-in-the-rain-with-flowers thing would not have been happening otherwise.’
‘I must admit, I agree,’ said Peony. ‘Who would do that, otherwise?’
‘I don’t know…’ I said.
‘Oh, stop being so bloody obtuse,’ snapped Sam, but she was grinning. ‘You really like him, don’t you? Tell the truth, Daryl.’
I leant further back against the back seat and sighed. ‘Oh bloody hell, Sam, you’ve got me bang to rights.’ (And I did feel a bit like an American criminal, actually, in the back seat of a car like this, being driven by my two interrogators – good cop, bad cop; it was obvious who was who…) ‘Yes, I do bloody like him. I like him more than I’ve ever liked anyone for a very, very long time.’
‘Right, then…’ Sam indicated left and turned onto a road that seemed to have a million kebab shops, all with extremely bright lights. ‘…Stop being so bloody stupid and let’s get you home.’
It was still absolutely chucking it down when Sam pulled up outside my house. I’d done a lot of thinking on that journey. After my admission, Sam and Peony had chatted amongst themselves about work and I had stared out of the window into the rain and the streets flashing by. Was Sam right, did Will really like me? It did seem to make sort of sense what she said, about the flowers, and Will wandering the streets trying to find me, and it was a really nice bunch of flowers. Why had he gone to all that bother if he just wanted us to be friends and neighbours? I thought about it. I know he didn’t normally work on a Friday afternoon and evening, he’d told me so, so he could have been in that area specially. Especially for me. Then again, he could have been on call tonight, he could have got the flowers from a very glamorous petrol station, he could hate me and my kisses and the bouquet really was just an empty gesture to undermine the fact he’d made a huge mistake and felt bad about it… Could Sam really have determined all that romantic stuff by the flowers and the look on his face?
‘Do you really think he likes me, Sam?’ I’d asked her as we’d driven through Wimbledon and down towards my road.
‘Yes, I do,’ said Sam. ‘And if you’re still not convinced, why don’t you go and ask him? You could knock for him, when you get home.’
I laughed. ‘You’re full of it, tonight,’ I said. ‘And we’re not fifteen. God, I don’t know. I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t think I’m brave enough.’
‘Want us to come with you?’ Sam looked at Peony and grinned.
‘As I said, we’re not fifteen – but thanks for the offer.’
‘No worries.’
‘Will you be all right?’ asked Peony. ‘Tonight.’
‘Yes, I’ll be absolutely fine.’
‘We can come and tuck you in?’
‘No, I’ll be fine. You’ve done more than enough, really. You rescued me. Thank you so much.’ I really meant it. I loved these two. So I once had a friend who had betrayed me in the worst possible way, so what? I also had these two absolute gems in my life, who I knew would always be there for me and would always come through for me. I appreciated it more than they could ever know.
Sam turned into my street. We drove down it, past the Victorian semis, and all the cars parked outside. All was quiet. All was still. The rain continued to plummet down. The windscreen wipers were going like the clappers.
‘Oh, hello!’ she said. ‘There appears to be a man on your doorstep.’