Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating (45 page)

She stopped. The stairs had run out and there was a heavy mahogany door in front of her. She felt John at her shoulder and tried to ignore how her body tingled at his closeness. He leant around her and opened the door.

‘John!’ a woman’s voice called out in cheery welcome.

Alice blinked and found herself being gently propelled into the room. A woman was walking towards them with a beaming smile. She was in her fifties and exuded matronly kindness. With her curly grey hair, crumpled linen suit and laughing eyes she looked like somebody’s mum.

‘I see you’ve brought a guest!’ She smiled at Alice.

‘Geraldine, may I introduce Alice?’ John said calmly. ‘Alice, this is my friend and agent, Geraldine.’

Wordlessly Alice let her hand be shaken. She looked at Geraldine. She must be the G. Ashby of G. Ashby Appointments. But she didn’t look like a pimp; she actually looked . . . well,
nice
.

Geraldine smiled and ushered them over to a sunken-looking sofa that had seen better days. Alice noticed a curling paperback copy of
Polo
hooked over the arm.

‘Glass of wine?’ Geraldine called from her desk. ‘It’s gone six, after all!’

‘Definitely for me,’ John replied. ‘Alice?’

Alice nodded dumbly and watched Geraldine conjure three wine glasses and a bottle of red from her messy desk. She then pulled up an old, battered chair and joined them at the sofa.

‘Cheers!’ Geraldine toasted merrily.

Alice mechanically sipped her drink. What on earth was going on?

‘So,’ John said, ‘I’m afraid this isn’t a social visit.’

‘Well, I did wonder,’ replied Geraldine cautiously.

There was a pause. Despite her confusion, Alice noticed John become tense beside her.

‘Do you remember a few weeks ago?’ he asked carefully. ‘When I told you I no longer wanted Audrey Cracknell as my client?’

‘Of course.’ Geraldine nodded. ‘I asked you if there was anything wrong.’

‘I lied,’ John said awkwardly. ‘There
was
something wrong. Well, not wrong exactly. Something very right, actually.’

‘OK,’ said Geraldine slowly, glancing at Alice. Alice stared at John, struggling to keep up with the day’s ever-changing turn of events.

John cleared his throat and pulled at his collar to loosen his bow tie.

‘Well, the thing is, I’ve been doing this for a long time. Escorting, I mean. Eleven years, give or take. And for a while now I’ve been thinking maybe it’s not the job for me any more.’

Alice took a silent intake of breath. Her mind was whirring. What was John saying?

‘I’ve been thinking: maybe I’ve been hiding in my job a bit. Using it as an excuse not to, well, meet people,’ John said awkwardly. ‘I know I meet people for a living, but it’s not the same. I should meet people for myself.
As
myself. I’ve been thinking maybe it was time for me to stop trying to save everyone else from their loneliness and, well – ’ he paused, suddenly looking lost – ‘work on doing something about my own.’

Alice was shocked. Was John lonely? He’d never said. She shot a look at Geraldine, who was wearing a strange expression. It seemed to be saying ‘at last’.

‘And then I met Alice.’ John suddenly grasped Alice’s hand. She almost gasped out loud at the warmth of his skin. Touching John –
being touched
by John – felt amazing.

‘Meeting Alice made me realize that all the thoughts I’d been having were right,’ John continued. ‘I need to break away from the – I don’t know –
prison
I’ve built myself. I need to have a go at life, jump in. Let myself be happy.’

He turned and looked at Alice, his eyes filled with something she hadn’t seen before.

‘And so you’re quitting escorting,’ Geraldine said gently. It was a statement, not a question.

‘Yes. I’d like tonight to be my last night. I was hoping you wouldn’t make me work my notice.’ He cracked a watery smile.

Geraldine beamed.

‘Don’t be daft, you old softie! As your agent I’m obviously sorry to lose you, but as your friend I’m cock-a-hoop!’

‘Really?’

‘Of course!’ she laughed. ‘Eleven years of penance is enough for anyone! Eve wouldn’t have wanted you to be lonely for the rest of your life. It’s about bloody time you fell in love again. I was beginning to worry it would only be me and Emily visiting you in the nursing home!’

John lunged forward and enveloped Geraldine in a giant bear hug. He then returned to the sofa and looked at Alice.

‘So, that’s it!’ he said happily. ‘Alice, do you think you’d consider going out with a
former
male escort? One who swears on his life that he never slept with any of his clients?’

‘Too bloody right he didn’t!’ Geraldine harrumphed. ‘I’m not running a knocking shop!’

‘So he’s definitely not a . . . ?’ Alice started to ask Geraldine. They were the first words she’d said since she’d arrived.

‘Goodness, no!’ Geraldine exclaimed. ‘Do I look like a pimp?’

‘No!’ Alice said hurriedly. She suddenly felt stupid. Why had she assumed the worst? Wasn’t she supposed to be
hard-wired for happy endings? ‘But I don’t get it,’ she puzzled. ‘What do you mean, eleven years of penance?’ She turned to John. ‘And what was that stuff about building yourself a prison?’

‘Hasn’t he told you?’ asked Geraldine.

Alice looked blankly at John, but he was looking deep into his wine glass.

‘John’s wife died fifteen years ago,’ Geraldine explained.

Alice looked at John. He was sitting as still as stone.

‘He blamed himself. He was late picking her up from work one night, so she decided to walk home and got hit by a car on the way.’

‘Oh! That’s awful!’ Impulsively Alice took John’s hand.

‘I’d been . . . I’d been having an affair,’ John admitted awkwardly, his face stricken. ‘I was late picking up my wife because I was with another woman.’

‘Oh!’ Alice’s hand went rigid in his.

‘It’s the only thing I’ve ever done that I’m ashamed of,’ John said quietly, unable to bring himself to look at Alice. ‘And I’ve spent the rest of my life regretting it. I didn’t tell you before, because I didn’t want you to think less of me. It was a terrible thing I did, and I would never, ever do it again.’

John looked into the distance miserably for a moment. Alice didn’t know what to think or say.

‘Eve and I married very young,’ John said eventually. ‘We hadn’t intended to, but she fell pregnant and we wanted to do the right thing. I loved her, but looking back, I wasn’t ready. And having Emily, well . . . Don’t get me wrong: I
love my daughter, but having a child takes its toll on a relationship. It’s hard, especially when you’re practically a child yourself. I was eighteen. The problem was, the years passed but I still thought I was eighteen. I wasn’t the best of husbands.’

Alice opened her mouth, but couldn’t find any words.

‘After Eve died I hid from the world,’ he continued. ‘I just looked after Emily during the day, and sat on my sofa at night. I didn’t feel I deserved to go out and be happy.’

‘Well, the affair was obviously very bad, but it wasn’t your fault Eve died.
You
didn’t run her over,’ Alice reasoned.

‘Try telling him that every day for fifteen years . . .’ Geraldine muttered.

‘I know that now.’ John smiled weakly. ‘But it took a while. I just kept thinking “what if?” What if I’d been a better husband, a better man?’

‘After a few years I staged an intervention!’ said Geraldine. ‘I’d just set up this business, and I needed more escorts on my books. John was the best-looking man I knew, and he was no good to anyone stagnating on his sofa. I knew he wasn’t ready to meet anyone new or find himself a girlfriend. But I also knew he must be lonely. Just as lonely as my clients.’

‘So she persuaded me to join,’ John continued. ‘She told me I’d be helping lonely women face their demons and feel better about themselves.’

‘I told him he’d be making amends,’ Geraldine interrupted, ‘that Eve wouldn’t want him rotting away at home. And that I’d babysit Emily whilst he was working.’

‘Oh!’ Alice said

‘He still hasn’t had a proper relationship since Eve, you know,’ Geraldine told her.

‘Ah, but I have my clients.’ John smiled sadly.

‘Emily calls them his surrogate girlfriends,’ Geraldine laughed. ‘She says he’s dysfunctional with a capital “D”.’

‘Emily knows about all this,’ Alice said, remembering back to their chat at the office.

‘Every last bit,’ John replied. ‘Miraculously she forgave me for cheating on her mother. And she’s known about the escorting for years.’

He looked at Alice and smiled.

‘I’ve made mistakes,’ he said. ‘Big mistakes that I truly regret. But escorting isn’t one of them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘I know,’ said Alice. And she did.

John squeezed her hand. ‘Alice, you’re the first person who’s made me want to have a girlfriend again. Who’s made me feel like I deserve one.’

His eyes met hers. Alice felt her breath leave her body.

‘I’m not the same man as I was back then,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve tried to help women, not sleep with them. I’ve learnt my lesson; I’ve done my time.’

He smiled at her hopefully.

‘Do you believe me?’ he asked. ‘Do I get a second chance?’

‘Yes!’ she cried. ‘Yes, yes!’ and she threw her arms around him.

‘Well, congratulations to you both!’ Geraldine grinned. ‘You’ve got yourself a good man there, Alice.’

‘I know!’ replied Alice happily.

‘And you!’ Geraldine mock-scolded John. ‘You’d better get out and give Lady Denham the date of her life! I’m not having a half-hearted job just because you’ve got one foot out of the door!’

‘
Lady
Denham?’ Alice echoed.

‘No riff-raff for John!’ Geraldine replied. ‘Only the choicest lady clients for the most popular gentleman on my books. They all seem to be under the illusion that the man’s got class, the poor devils.’

Moments later John and Alice were at the bottom of the stairs on the private side of the black door.

‘You’re really giving it up?’ Alice asked. ‘For me?’

‘I should have done it long ago!’ John grinned, suddenly looking drunk with happiness. ‘I’m a one-woman man from now on!’ he declared. ‘John Marlowe is retiring! Long live John Smith!’

‘John
Smith
?’

‘Smith; that’s my real name! You didn’t think I’d escort under my own name, did you? It was bad enough Emily knowing what I did for a living whilst she was still at school. I wasn’t going to open her up to ridicule from her friends by making it more likely they’d find out that Emily Smith’s dad was the same Mr Smith who’d taken their divorced mum out to dinner last Saturday.’

‘But what will you do for money?’

‘Don’t worry about that!’ John wrapped her into a tight, warm embrace. ‘I’m a good escort, but not that good! I do have a day job as well, you know! I’m a nude model.’

He laughed at Alice’s stricken face. ‘I’m joking! I’m a business adviser.’ He leaned close to kiss her.

‘Good!’ Alice said in relief. ‘Because I’m not sure I want to go out with a man who’s retired. It makes you sound really old.’

‘Yeah?’ John murmured. ‘But I’m not the one wearing a cardy!’ he teased. And he kissed her for a very long time.

Eventually John managed to stop kissing Alice, open the black door and re-enter the real world – a world where appointments had to be kept and business needed to be finished. After hugging Alice goodbye he straightened his dinner jacket, ran his fingers through his hair and rushed off for dinner at The Privet with Lady Denham. For the first time in his professional career he was late for a date with a client.

The maître d’ ushered him to where Lady Denham was waiting, a large champagne cocktail before her, and her jewellery sparkling in the candlelight.

‘Oh, there you are!’ she said in mock annoyance. ‘You’re so late I thought you must have been run over. I was imagining a hit-and-run by a crazed, jealous client. The last words on your lips had been my name.’

John laughed, kissed her cheek and sat down. He liked Lady Denham. Rich and posh though she was, she was always good company. She’d been one of his regulars for years and he’d never seen her without an inordinate amount of jewellery dripping from every available surface
of skin. He’d once asked whether she was worried about being mugged.

‘Darling!’ she’d exclaimed in her exaggerated, camp way. ‘What’s the point in having the pudding if you don’t over-egg it?’

Lady Denham was an unusual client in that she never
needed
to see John. He was booked purely for her amusement. Her third divorce in her late fifties had finally left her so fabulously wealthy she couldn’t give a fig who knew she was single. Well groomed, with a neat figure and a face that was still captivating, she firmly believed that having a merry-go-round of younger men on her arm was as good for her image as it was for her soul. John enjoyed escorting her enormously.

He settled into his seat, accepted a champagne cocktail from the waiter and allowed Lady Denham to order for them both. As the waiter turned to leave, John noticed Lady Denham check out his backside.

‘Hungry?’ he asked mischievously.