Jess was just belting out the chorus of ‘Last Christmas’ in her car when her mobile rang.
‘Hey, Jess, it’s Sam.’
‘Oh, hiya, Sam,’ she replied breezily. She was conscious that since that final day on the boat with Dan, she had not gone into Lemon Events once. She had cleverly avoided it by arranging conference calls or dealing with any issues on email.
‘Just wondered how you are doing really?’ Sam enquired. ‘Long time no see and all that. Was surprised you didn’t make our Christmas party last night, not like you?’
‘Sam, I’m so sorry I did get the invite but have been so tied up with AG’s Christmas event that I forgot all about it.’ This was a total lie. She still couldn’t face the thought of bumping into Dan.
‘Anyway’ how about lunch instead? I’m around this Friday, say one at the George & Dragon.’
‘Sam, that would be lovely, thanks. See you there,’ Jess replied openly. After the second half of her heart was broken by Dan, it had taken Jess a long time to get over him. She still thought about him daily but then pushed all thoughts to the back of her mind and put on a brave face. She had to face it – he wasn’t coming back, and if he did he really was wrong for her anyway. They had accepted they were in different places. She wondered what he was doing now and if he was seeing someone else. The thought of that still made her want to cry. She also missed Evie greatly. She almost sent a present on her third birthday and then thought against it. They all had to move on.
Urged on by her friends and family Jessica had joined a Writers Bureau home workshop, and she was actually beginning to enjoy writing articles and getting feedback on them. She also had bravely signed up to an internet dating site but it was a complete waste of money; she was so choosy to avoid getting hurt again that either none of them matched up to Dan or there was something wrong with them. Jessy had nearly worn out her delete key getting rid of unsuitable suitors. She was sure that there would be no one in the world who she would love as much as Dan anyway. So she decided that she would leave it to fate or forever be the spinster of the parish. Hope had laughed, saying that now she was doing this writing course she should dress head to toe in pink and get a fluffy white dog like Barbara Cartland. ‘I’d rather be like Joan Collins, thanks,’ Jess had replied. ‘She seems to have much more fun, plus she nabbed a toy boy who stayed with her.’