A Twist of Fate (11 page)

‘No.' There was a slight pause. ‘You're more beautiful.'

I fell silent. So did he. I could hear his breaths down the phone. I wished they'd drop out of the earpiece and onto my skin.

‘Callie … it's so good to talk to you again.'

Yes, yes, it was. ‘Yes.'

‘Christ, I missed you.'

‘Did you?'

‘Aye. So fucking much, Cal.'

I barely hesitated. ‘Me too.'

‘Come and see me.' He didn't hesitate either.

My stomach flipped like it did when he smiled at me, but I reeled it in. ‘I can't.'

‘Why not?'

‘It wouldn't work.'

‘But you want to do an interview with me.'

‘That's different.'

‘I want to see you, Callie. You tell you don't want to see me but you want to go on TV with me. I don't get it.'

‘You know what I want.'

‘Not really.'

‘I want … to just … you know …'

‘No. I don't know.'

‘Oh, bloody hell, Paul, stop being so obtuse!'

‘There you go with your big words again. Look, I'm just asking a question.'

‘You're like a dog with a bone.'

‘We didn't argue like this on the island.'

‘Exactly!'

‘So?'

‘So it would never work, would it? You and me. I just want to get the press off our backs.'

‘They're not on my back.'

‘Ooh, you are infuriating!'

‘I'm not the one yelling down the phone.'

‘Look, please just do one show with me. That'll keep them happy and then we'll just go our separate ways again.'

Further silence, save for the regular in out murmur of his breath.

‘Which one do you reckon?' he said at length.

‘Is that a yes?'

‘Just the one, Callie. For you.'

I released my gratitude in a sighed, ‘Thank you.' I'd see him again. Oh God, I was happy. ‘Probably best to do the
Breakfast
one. They'll go easier on us.'

‘Alright. That host – what's his name … Bob Rhys-Jones – he seems like a decent bloke.'

‘And Dawn Turner – the other one – she's the nation's sweetheart ever since she won
Celebrity Big Brother
. They're very easy going on the show, it's not the sort of programme to stir things up. I'll let them know we'll do it.'

Silence.

‘Paul? You still there?'

‘Course I'm still here. I'm not going to hang up on you.'

No, don't hang up. Never hang up.

‘It'll be nice to see you again.' I meant it so bloody much.

‘Yeah.'

‘OK. I'll tell Anna.'

‘She that liaison woman?'

‘Yes. Hasn't she dealt with you too?'

‘Briefly. Told her I didn't need her.'

‘Are you OK?'

‘Yeah. Back at work. How about you?'

‘OK-ish. I'll be better when things calm down.'

‘Yeah, well, we'll do this as soon as possible.'

‘Thanks.'

‘It's all right.' Beat. ‘I miss you, Callie.'

‘Do you?'

‘You know I do. Miss all of you. The way you look, the way you smell, the way you feel. All of you.'

Genuine sigh. ‘Don't.'

‘I watched the press conference.'

‘What did you think?'

‘I didn't think anything. I was too busy staring at you on the screen. You looked incredible. You looked luminous.'

‘Please …'

‘Truth. I just tell it like it is.'

I fell silent. So did he. But I knew he was there. That was all I needed.

‘Look, I'd better go. I'll be in touch,' I finally said.

‘Right. See you then.'

‘See you.'

‘Bye.'

‘Bye.'

‘Take care.'

‘Yeah. You too.'

‘OK. Bye.'

‘Bye.'

I couldn't hang up. Luckily, he did, or else we'd have been there forever, bound irrevocably by a phone line.

Thirteen

Breakfast Time Britain
was delighted to have us the next day. A car would be sent for me at 6.30 a.m. and we'd be interviewed at 8.

It all happened so quickly that I barely had time to say hello to Paul when we arrived. I was immediately surrounded by the buzz of famous people, huge personalities, when all I wanted was him. He smiled briefly at me from a distance as I was hurried off to make-up and he to sign forms. He was wearing a dark blue shirt and jeans and looked as wonderful as he had that first time he'd sauntered down the plane, lugging his bag.

When we finally met up, he came up with that same smile on his face, the one that made me debate whether I should just cling onto him for dear life or snog him senseless. ‘All right then, Callie Frobisher?'

‘All right then, Paul Mason?'

‘Aye. I am now.'

He stood, still with that faint lopsided smile, staring hard at me.

‘This way then, you two!' The bright voice of a production assistant brought us out of the moment. Paul smirked at me and turned towards her. After a short briefing of what to expect, it was time to go live.

I was surprised that the bright lights of the studio and the unshakeable stares of the crew didn't put me off, but once we started, the intimacy you experience as a viewer seemed to transfer to us. I really did feel as if I was sitting in a friend's living room, having a nice chat. That was the problem. It was all too comfortable.

Bob Rhys-Jones was the most relaxed, affable man I'd met, putting me instantly at ease with his lilting Welsh tones, and giving the impression of relaxed insouciance. Dawn Turner sat benignly, a gentle smile on her face, not saying much. I was happy to talk. Paul sat back as if he was making himself at home. His manner surprised me. I was expecting him to be tense and awkward. He hadn't struck me as a media puppet, but his natural charm seemed more magnified than ever in the goldfish bowl of the studio.

After an item on the best places to buy back to school clothes, it would be us. As the minutes ticked away, nerves started to flutter inside me. I looked at Paul. He seemed completely relaxed. The seconds were counted down. We were on.

Bob launched into his introduction after the segment about children's clothing. ‘Luckily, I've got three daughters. I think we've only ever bought clothes for Lucy, our eldest, the rest just get hand-me-downs. Bit unfair on them, really. Anyway, welcome if you're just joining us. Now, we are so lucky to have with us today two remarkable people. We have all been deeply shocked and moved by the tragedy of the Maldives air crash. When it was discovered that two people had actually survived this horrific disaster, our hearts were fit to bursting with relief and joy for them. At least something could be salvaged from the horror. Joining me now are those two survivors, Paul Mason and Callie Frobisher. Paul, Callie, welcome.'

‘Thank you,' I muttered, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

‘Good to be here,' said Paul, smiling warmly.

Bob continued. ‘You two are being called the miracle duo. And I have to say, I can't quite believe I'm looking at two people who have survived what you've been through. Thank you so much for taking time to come and talk to us today.'

‘Pleasure.' Paul sounded completely at ease. He sat with his left arm stretched out across the back of the sofa, while one hand clutched the ankle of the opposing leg as it rested across his knee. A typical bloke-ish relaxed pose. And so sexy.

I was sitting awkwardly. I daren't lean back for fear I would sprawl and became acutely aware of every part of my body and what I was doing with it. Nothing seemed to be right. I just smiled and looked at Paul for guidance.

‘You've been back over a week now. How are you finding things?'

‘I'm back at work. It's all fine. I wanted to get back to normal really. It helps, I find. But, err … Callie's still on holiday.' Paul looked at me, indicating for me to speak.

‘Yes. We've been looked after very well. I'll be ready to go back to school in September.'

‘Of course, you're a teacher.' Dawn smiled briefly at my response but her eyes quickly moved back to Paul. ‘And you're a builder, Paul?'

‘I'm part-owner of a building contractor's, yes.'

She nodded as though he'd just told her he was an astronaut on a mission to Mars.

Bob took over. ‘Now, we won't press you on the details of the crash, but you said in your press conference, Callie, that it was Paul who unfastened your seat belt to let you swim to the surface.'

‘Yes, I was still strapped in when we hit the water, even though I could see the way out of the plane. I couldn't move. I was being dragged down as I was still in my seat, when I felt a sudden release around my waist. But I didn't think I'd make it. I lost consciousness in the water. Paul must have got me to the surface very quickly.'

‘Do you remember, Paul?'

‘Yeah. Callie was the one nearest me, the only one I could reach. Luckily, I managed to get her out. I wasn't sure she was going to pull through. Again, luckily, we weren't too far from this island. I managed to get us both onto some floating debris and make it to shore. I knew she was breathing and she was moaning and mumbling a bit. I did what I could for her but I'm not a medic. I had to wait and hope she came round, which she did.'

‘Didn't have to perform the kiss of life then?' Dawn asked.

‘That would be tellin' …' He glanced at me. I blushed scarlet.

Dawn laughed, a hand across her cleavage. ‘There you go, Callie. Given a life-giving kiss by a gorgeous Prince Charming and you don't even know it. I think every woman watching will be jealous – you're quite the hero, Paul.'

‘They haven't seen me first thing on a Monday morning before my Starbucks double espresso.'

Everyone laughed more than they should have. I did the same.

‘You've had survival training though, Paul – you were in the army,' prompted Bob.

‘Yeah.'

‘Did that reassure you, Callie? That you were with someone who knew what they were doing?'

I resented the implication that I knew nothing. ‘Yes, but I played my part too. I made the shelter, didn't I?'

‘Yeah,' said Paul, giving me a sidelong glance. ‘It were … interesting.'

I smiled. ‘It, err, fell down during … some high winds.' Actually, it fell down during a particularly athletic bout of reverse cowgirl. ‘But at least I tried.'

‘Some people would say it was very romantic, two gorgeous strangers stranded on a desert island. Moonlight, a beach all to yourself.' Dawn was milking it. I could see where this was going. I concentrated hard, focusing on the glass of water in front of me.

‘We were still in shock,' I mumbled, managing a condescending smile to try to deter the line of questioning. I heard a terse sigh from Paul.

‘Now come on, the nation wants to know, did anything happen between you?' asked Bob outright.

I laughed to cover it. Paul smirked and shook his head while looking at his shoes. He was rubbing his hands together distractedly, then glanced over his shoulder at me.

‘Nah. We're two very different people, aren't we, Callie?'

At a time I wanted to bury it as deep as possible, my desire for him suddenly surged, causing my insides to roll over tumultuously. I wished he'd stop rubbing his hands like that. I wanted to be in between them. I tightened my mouth and looked Dawn directly in the eyes.

‘That's right. Very different.'

‘Do you have a boyfriend?'

Rupert would be hanging off this. I scooted around a direct answer.

‘Well, I'm just sorting my life out again. No … Paul and I are just friends.'

‘And are you single, Paul?'

‘Aye, I s'pose I am.'

‘Hear that, ladies of Britain? He's single!' said Bob to camera with a grin. Paul chuckled good-humouredly, but he was now leaning forward, tension evident as his shirt strained across his back. If I reached up I could stroke it, feel those muscles again, smooth away his annoyance.

‘Don't advertise it, Bob. I'm first in line!' laughed Dawn, although her lingering gaze on Paul told me that she may not have been joking.

‘It's a shame though, in a way. You know what we're like in this country. You two are already national heroes. Just imagine if you ended up as a couple as well. You'd be great together.'

We were forced to turn to each other and laugh it off. ‘I don't reckon Friday nights down the pub watching me play snooker is Callie's idea of a good night out.'

‘Yeah … and I'd bore him silly droning on about the Wars of the Roses.'

There was embarrassed laughter all round, but as it died down, Paul muttered, ‘Edward III, remember, Cal?'

I made the mistake of meeting his eyes. ‘Oh yes. Edward III.'

‘What's that?'

‘Nothing,' I said softly, half to myself. I'd forgotten microphones pick up everything. ‘Something we said on the island. Something we have in common. An interest in the Plantagenets.'

‘Gosh. No wonder there was no romance between you – you were too busy discussing medieval history!' said Bob.

‘That's it,' said Paul in concurrence, tearing his eyes from me. ‘Too busy.'

I stared hard at Dawn and Bob for the rest of the time. If I looked at Paul I'd do something I would regret, I knew it. The conversation turned to what we'd eaten, whether the nights were cold or not (not that I'd noticed). We touched briefly on our fellow passengers who didn't make it and I felt a cold sweat prickling for release. Paul seemed to sense it. I felt him turn to look at me. Smoothly and imperceptibly, he steered the subject onto our rescue. Despite being so reluctant to do the interview, he was the ultimate in charm and courtesy. Dawn was eating out of his hand by the end. I got the distinct impression that wasn't the only part of him she'd like to taste.