Chapter 50

It was almost midnight and Joel had been right; the torrential rain and hail had fizzled out, leaving only an eerie stillness and wet roads. Not that she could see it from here but when a car drove past you could hear the liquid swoosh of tires on tarmac.

A voice in her ear murmured, “Falling asleep?”

Evie opened her eyes. “Nearly.”

“Lightweight.” He ran his fingers playfully over her rib cage, his bare legs nudging hers beneath the rumpled duvet.

“Hey, I’m out of practice. It’s been a while.”

Joel began dropping kisses along the curve of her collarbone. “Tell me about it.”

“Oh, come on, don’t even say that. You’ve slept with other girls since we broke up.”

He raised his head, his blond hair falling into his eyes as he regarded her intently. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? No reason not to. But I haven’t.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Evie.

“I suppose there’s no reason why you should. But it’s the truth. I’ve learned my lesson,” Joel said simply. “I only wanted you, no one else.”

She shook her head. “Still don’t believe you.”

“I know you don’t. So why else would I say it if it wasn’t true?”

Did that make sense? Kind of. Evie checked her watch and said, “It’s late. I need to get home.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“I do.”

“Stay.” Joel touched her face. “Please.”

She could feel herself weakening. It was cold outside. Here in his bed it was deliciously warm. She’d missed physical contact as much as she’d missed sex itself. And when Joel was being this irresistible, it was hard to say no.

“Can you get me my bag? It’s in the living room.”

He jumped out of bed, returning seconds later with her handbag. Evie checked her emergency toothbrush was in there, then took out her phone, and called Lara’s number.

“Hi, it’s me. Just to let you know I’m staying over at Ray and Bonnie’s tonight. Early start at work tomorrow…”

Thirty seconds later she hung up. There, done. Lara had taken the excuse at face value and the white lie had made saying it all the more exciting. For once she was the one being a little bit naughty, doing what was fun rather than what was right.

“You just told a fib,” Joel playfully admonished.

“She’d have nagged me if I hadn’t. Actually, I told two,” said Evie. “I don’t have an early start tomorrow.”

“Very glad to hear it.” He broke into a slow, complicit smile and pulled her closer. “Because I’m telling you now, you’re going to have a very late night tonight.”

***

Joel dropped her around the corner from his parents’ house on his way to work the next morning. More subterfuge, but Bonnie would be uncontrollable if she knew what had happened.

“Come here.” He kissed her once, twice, then once more for luck. “I love you. Can I see you tonight?”

Evie shook her head. “We’ve got the Massinghams’ party, remember? The one your mum was talking about, with the dance troupe and the conjurors. I won’t be able to get away before eleven.”

“Damn. How about after that?”

He looked so crestfallen, her heart melted. “Listen, we’ve had two hours’ sleep. Three at most. We’re both going to be shattered by this evening. Let’s leave it for tonight.”

Joel pulled a sad face. “OK. How about tomorrow then?”

Evie nodded, distracted by a bus trundling past; a bunch of schoolboys were mooning through the windows. That’s what happened when you drank cans of Red Bull before school.

“Hello?” Joel waved his hands in front of her face. “Tomorrow?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” Her brain was fizzing, in a state of confusion. Having sex again had been lovely; after all these months, of course it had. But she needed to sort out how she truly felt about the person she’d just had the lovely sex with. Evie gave herself a mental shake. “Yes, tomorrow. I’ll give you a call.”

***

The party was being held at the Massinghams’ sprawling country pile ten miles outside Bath, to celebrate their daughter’s birthday.

If there was a more spoiled seventeen-year-old within a hundred-mile radius, Evie really didn’t want to meet her. She was quite wishing she hadn’t had to meet this one. Foxie Massingham, grumpy, charmless, and accustomed to having her every whim catered for, had already thrown tantrums about her hair, false eyelashes, the caterers, the conjurors, and her boyfriend’s outfit. And the party hadn’t even started yet.

“Marvin’s wearing a green suit,” she ranted at her mother. “He looks like a dork. Mummy, make him go home and change into something less embarrassing.”

Which was ironic, seeing as Foxie was wearing fluorescent yellow micro shorts, silver thigh-high boots, and a silver-fringed bikini top complete with sewn-on twinkle lights that flashed on and off.

“Oh, baby, he can’t do that, it’s too late now.” Foxie’s devoted mother said apologetically to Marvin, “Don’t worry, she’ll calm down. You know how highly strung she is.”

“Not strung highly enough if you ask me,” muttered Marvin as he passed Evie in the doorway where she was pinning up more twinkle lights.

Oh dear, he wasn’t looking happy at all.

An hour later Foxie deemed it time to open her presents.

Her mum wrung her hands. “But I thought we were going to do it during the party, baby. That was the plan.”

“I don’t want to wait. I need to know what I’ve got. Daddy, bring them through now.”

Evie, watching from the other end of the room, saw Foxie accept as her due a diamond pendant, practically an entire shopful of designer clothes, three pairs of Louboutins, and—oh yes, of course—the keys to a brand new Volkswagen Golf.

Then Marvin gave her a small, nicely wrapped box and she opened it, her face falling as she unfolded the tissue paper and lifted out the bracelet inside.

“Is it real gold?” Foxie’s lip curled as she scrutinized it.

“Well, no…”

“Is it real anything? I mean, these stones.” She prodded at them with a turquoise acrylic nail. “What are they meant to be?”

“So you don’t like it,” Marvin said evenly.

“I thought you were going to get me something nice.”

“It was all the money I had. I’m a carpenter,” said Marvin, “not a millionaire. I told you I couldn’t afford much and you said it didn’t matter.”

“I didn’t mean it though!” Foxie’s voice rose. “Jeez! I thought you’d get me something better than this.”

Evie winced at the expression on Marvin’s face. Even Foxie’s adoring parents were looking embarrassed.

“Fine,” Marvin said eventually. He took a step back, shook his head, then turned and walked away. “Have a great night.”

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“No you’re not! You come back,” shrieked Foxie.

“Find yourself a professional footballer. You’ll be happier. He might not be,” Marvin added not quite under his breath.

Evie flattened herself against the wall as Foxie raced after him. There was a brief undignified tussle in the doorway, during which Foxie bellowed, “But you can’t go, it’s my party!”

“I am going. I’ve had enough.” Marvin’s voice was flat with resignation. “You’ve changed, you never used to be like this.” He peeled her fingers off his arms. “OK, I’m out of here. For good.”

And he left, precipitating the most almighty meltdown from his erstwhile girlfriend. It was six o’clock and the guests were due to start arriving in an hour. Foxie, evidently never having got her comeuppance before, screamed and sobbed at her parents while Evie and the rest of the hired help looked on. Marvin had gone and he’d switched his phone off. Foxie howled, “Right, that’s it, the party’s canceled.”

“Oh, Flora, no, don’t say that,” her father protested.

“I just did say it. And for fuck’s sake stop calling me Flora! We’re not having a party and it’s going to be ALL MARVIN’S FAULT.” As she yelled the words Foxie rubbed her hands over her face, deliberately smudging her makeup in all directions until she looked like a deranged clown. Then she started yanking at her elaborately arranged hair, ripping out the blonde extensions. Snatching up the bracelet Marvin had given her, she bent it in half until it snapped then flung the pieces wildly across the room.

“Baby, come on now, calm down.” Her mother made a tentative approach, shrinking back as Foxie turned on her.

“Jesus Christ, Mother, what part of NO PARTY don’t you understand?” Eyes blazing out from the smears of black shadow and half-off false lashes, Foxie snarled, “It’s canceled, it’s not happening. It’s OFF.”

***

Evie left the Massinghams at nine o’clock. Following Foxie’s refusal to change her mind, the poor parents had been forced to meet each of the arriving guests in turn and explain to them that the party was no more. Foxie had stormed off to her room. The caterers, the conjurors, and the DJ packed up their equipment and Evie took down the decorations. Calling a taxi once it was all done, she was interrupted by the DJ carrying a couple of amps out to his purple van. “Arlington Road, did you say? Don’t worry about a cab, I’ll drop you off. It’s on my way.”

“Really? Brilliant, thanks so much.” Not so brilliant for the taxi company but great for her.

“Don’t go getting any ideas, mind.” The DJ, who was scrawny and in no danger of being mistaken for a hunk, warned, “That wasn’t a chat-up line. I’m married.”

***

On the way back to Bath, Evie heard the story of how Dave—the DJ—had met and married his wife and, ten years on, how happy they still were. By the time they reached the outskirts of the city, she’d made up her mind about what to do.

“Actually, don’t worry about Arlington Road.” As they headed along the A4 she saw the sign for the right turn to Bannerdown looming up at them out of the darkness. “Could you drop me here instead?”

There came a time when you just knew something was right and there was no longer any point trying to deny it.