Doing the Right Thing (27 page)

Ed looked at her in shock. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, and I haven’t even got a TV. It’s Lisa’s. She knocks the amount off my rent.”

“But you get something else?”

“Er, no. Well, chocolates from my aunt. Dark ones I don’t like. Hugh eats those.”

Addie handed the wrap to the stall holder and pulled her purse from her bag.

“Hi, there. Let me ask you something,” Ed said, spotting one of the passengers off the coach. “Would you like to receive one of these as a present from your daughter?”

Addie spun round. “Ed, no.”

“Addie reckons her mother will hate it. What do you think?”

“Why is she buying it if she thinks that?” the woman asked.

“She’s someone very difficult to please, so nothing like you I’m sure.” Ed flicked on his beam.

“I think she’d prefer the blue one,” the woman said.

“Right, Addie, swap it for the blue one.” Ed grabbed the other wrap.

“Ed, I’d like you to meet my mother, Joan Winter,” Addie said.

Ed laughed and when he realized Addie wasn’t joking, he didn’t miss a blink. “Do you think you could buy Addie Sky Sports as well as the TV license? Oh no, you won’t need to bother if—”

“Ed, no.” Addie clapped her hand over his mouth.

“Adelina, what do you think you’re doing? What a way to behave in public.”

Ed fell about laughing as he tried to get rid of Addie’s hand. Joan poked Addie hard in the ribs with her umbrella.

“What did you want to say?” Joan asked as Addie let go of Ed to clutch her side.

“Addie won’t need a TV if she’s off to New Zealand.”

“New Zealand?” Her mother’s eyes hardened. “You must come for lunch on Sunday and tell us all about it.”

“I bet Addie would like one of the pink ones,” he shouted over his shoulder as Addie dragged him away.

As they reached the edge of the market, Ed realized Addie was shaking.

“Oh God, what’s the matter? What have I done?” he asked. When he lifted her face, he saw she was laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“You are. But my mother is going to kill me.”

“She did seem to take things a bit seriously.”

“I’m going to have little black dots all over my ribs where she poked me with that umbrella.”

“She doesn’t know about New Zealand then?”

Addie sighed. “She didn’t. You know the mere fact that you’ve been seen with me means you’ll be in the Christmas letter, penciled in as my future husband.”

“You said the H-word.” Ed stepped back, making the sign of the cross with his fingers.

“My mother said the L-word. Lunch.”

“I’ll come. I like a nice roast.”

“If it was that simple, I’d invite you, but it isn’t, so I won’t.”

“Why?” Ed put his arm over Addie’s shoulder as they walked, thrilled she didn’t pull away.

“It’s bad enough I always end up humiliated without letting someone else see it happen.”

“Why?” Ed repeated.

“Because I’m a disappointment in so many ways, I’ve lost count.”

“I hate to sound repetitive, but why?”

“Awful clothes. Wrong job. Bad attitude.”

“Sounds like my mother.”

“You always look smart,” Addie said.

“You haven’t seen my collection of rude t-shirts.”

“Was ‘Idaho No Udaho’ one of yours by any chance?”

“Rumbled. Will borrowed it. So why didn’t you ask me for a drink at the gym?” He really wanted to know why.

“You were fair-haired and you were smiling.”

He frowned. “That’s why women like me.”

“Didn’t Will tell you what I wanted?”

Ed shook his head.

“I needed someone tall, dark and handsome to pretend to be the man I’d been going out with for six months. That way my family would apologize for thinking he was either married with children or he didn’t exist. And before you ask, no, he didn’t exist.”

Ed was bewildered. “Why was it so important your family thought you had a boyfriend?”

“Because…because I wanted to show them I could be happy,” Addie whispered.

Ed stopped walking and stood in front of her. “And can you be happy?”

Addie shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I wish you’d asked me.” He gave her a little smile. “I’d have dyed my hair.”

Addie stared at him. Time seemed to hang between them as she wondered what he was thinking. He’d pushed her toward Will, so what was happening now? She didn’t know how long they stood there, but suddenly snow swirled around their heads and Addie turned her face to the sky and let the moment go. She felt a shift in the air as if a chance had been lost.

Ed brushed a flake from her nose. “You’re cute.”

“So are you.”

He chuckled and they began walking again.

“Why does your mother think you’re in the wrong job?” Addie asked.

“Because I went into business with Will instead of doing something for myself.”

“What would you like to do?”

Ed pursed his lips. “I’ve always fancied crewing on a yacht.”

Addie laughed. “How would your mother feel about that?”

“Not happy. She’s desperate I settle down and get married in the local church, so she can do the flowers. Then I’m expected to have children. Not personally, I should add.”

“Why haven’t you settled down? Charlotte, Beth and Daisy have practically come to blows. You have women falling at your feet.”

Ed looked down and then looked at her. “Not today.”

Addie’s face went hot.

“I get bored,” he said, grabbing her hand and walking on. “I like variety.”

Ed seemed the type who wanted an easy life. Short-term relationships were less trouble. Yet Addie sensed something hidden in what he was saying. Why did he always go for the same sort of woman if he ended up bored?

“Despite the clichés about men not understanding women, I think I do. I know exactly what they want,” he said.

“You to sleep with them?”

He turned to look at her. “Maybe. Why should I say no? But I’m not…”

“Not what?”

Ed sighed. “Why am I telling you this?”

“Because you don’t want to go out with me, so I’m easier to talk to. We’re friends.”

Addie watched his face, but he didn’t look at her.

“I don’t have many friends,” Ed said in a quiet voice. “Women throw themselves at me and men are jealous. If I talk to their wives or girlfriends they assume I’m trying to get them into bed. Consequently, men don’t like me. The women I’d like to know don’t show any interest in me because they think there’s no point. The ones I go out with tend to be—of a type. I keep relationships short, otherwise I find I have a limpet attached to me and no matter how beautiful a limpet, it’s not what I want. That wasn’t a hint, Addie, so don’t you dare try to let go of my hand. You’re keeping my fingers warm.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right limpet.”

“Maybe I never will.” Ed squeezed her fingers.

“What’s wrong with women?” Addie asked with a smile.

“You’re rarely satisfied, always going on about something that in the grand scale of things doesn’t matter one bit, like whether you should hang blue or red baubles on your Christmas tree. You don’t want solutions, instead you want to discuss things. If you feel ill, you don’t want me to say go to the doctor, just offer sympathy and make ‘significant’

gestures. Meaning flowers or chocolate or jewelry.”

“Ah, but when a woman’s ill, she really is ill, unlike a man who only has to catch a cold to think he has pneumonia.”

“Not me,” said Ed and then coughed. “Does that sound serious?”

Addie laughed.

“I have to remind myself never to make negative comments about a woman’s body or clothes and if they criticize themselves, I must never agree. The words ‘diet’ and

‘weight’ are not in my vocabulary. The words ‘bottom’ and ‘big’ never appear in the same sentence.”

“You’re almost perfect.”

Ed slipped his fingers around her wrist, stroking her skin with his thumb. “I am perfect. I’m brilliant in bed and hung like a cobra.”

Addie smothered a smile. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You don’t need to.”

Addie grinned openly now. “So which limpet should I ask to verify that?”

“Don’t you want to find out for yourself?”

Addie blushed.

“I like you,” he said. “I like making you blush.”

“I like you too. I like stepping on your toes.”

Ed did a quick side step as Addie’s foot moved toward his. He didn’t know when he’d last enjoyed himself so much. Addie was easy to talk to. She listened when he spoke and she was funny. He knew he’d let his guard down. When she’d made that comment about being friends and not wanting to go out with her, he had to bite his tongue. She was Will’s, or as good as, so he had to leave her alone. But they’d spent the day flirting and maybe she’d got the hint that he was interested.

“So how do you feel about going to bed with me?” he asked.

Addie headed straight for the pavement. Ed caught her before she hit the ground and pulled her upright. Her mouth was inches from his. He cupped his hands over her cold, red cheeks. He’d meant to make her laugh, now he didn’t want her to. Just one kiss, he told himself, but she pulled away.

“What did you trip on?” Ed glanced back.

“A crack. You’re not supposed to step on the cracks. You get eaten by bears. You’ll be the one they go for. You’ve not been paying attention to where you’re going.”

Yeah, he had. Down a dangerous path. He could tell Addie about the baby. He could just drop it out now and give himself a chance. If he did she wouldn’t even think about Will again.

“I like you, Ed,” Addie said. “Despite the fact that your brother promised to come today and has let me down, I’ve enjoyed myself.”

“Will’s a prat sometimes. I want to kick him. Maybe I should.”

“Do the two of you argue much?”

“Only over the remote.”

Never over women. Not until now, Ed thought.

Will sat in his car watching the coach disgorge its passengers. Once he’d realized Ed had fucked off to Lincoln, he’d been monumentally pissed off. The fact that Will had already decided not to go was beside the point. He didn’t want his brother anywhere near Addie.

She and Ed were the last ones off. Cars pulled out while they stood talking. Addie had put her bags on the ground and was waving her arms around and laughing. The coach pulled away and Addie blew a kiss at the driver, but she and Ed still stood there, talking, smiling. Will got out of his Lexus and headed toward them. He knew Ed had seen him and he guessed that explained what happened next.

Ed grabbed Addie’s head and pressed his lips hard against hers. He pulled back before she had a chance to react, to kiss him harder or slap his face. She was stunned.

“Thanks for a great day,” he said. “I enjoyed being with you.”

His tone made Addie think the kiss was just a tease. “I enjoyed the day too.”

“Let’s hope the customers did,” Will snapped as he reached them.

When Addie saw the expression on Will’s face, her smile blinked out like a dead bulb.

“No one complained,” she said. “Not even Doreen Wilberforce, but don’t hold your breath.”

“Do you want to go and have something to eat?” Ed ignored Will.

“No, she doesn’t,” Will said. “I need to talk to her.”

“You could let Addie answer.”

Will sighed. “Ed, please.”

Ed hovered for a moment and then gave in. “See you, Addie.” He walked to his car.

Addie pushed her hands deeper into her pockets. She was cold. Maybe Will wanted to take her for a meal. Maybe he’d take her home. She smiled.

“I can’t see you anymore.” Will almost spat out the words.

For a moment Addie didn’t understand what he’d said.

“W-what have I done?” she stuttered. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing. You haven’t done anything. It’s me, not you.”

“Oh.” So it was her, not him.

“It’s not as if it was going anywhere,” he said more gently. “A few weeks and I’ll be back in London. You’ll be up here. I feel like I’m using you. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Too late. Yet she still wanted him. Addie knew she was supposed to look for commitment and loyalty. Her mother had hammered that message into her brain, but she didn’t care. She’d spent too long not being touched, watching other people having happy lives while she stood on the sidelines. Will had shown her what she was missing and she didn’t want to let it go. She’d settle for sex. She wanted him to touch her. If he touched her, he’d want her. She didn’t believe he wouldn’t want her.

“We—we could—we—” Addie could barely speak. She took a step toward him and when he moved back, she felt as though he’d stabbed her in the chest.

“You need someone who can offer you more than I can. You’re sweet and kind and I’ve messed you around. You deserve better. I’m sorry, Addie.”

How many times had she said “sorry” to try to make things right? It didn’t help. It hurt. If Will looked at her, she told herself she’d believe him, but Addie didn’t want him to look. Then his eyes met hers and held her gaze, and she broke into pieces, pain radiating from her heart to all parts of her body, spreading like a crack in the ice.

She knew what to do. Walk away. She picked up her bags, turned and her feet led her away from the one person in the world she’d thought had wanted her.

“How are you getting home? Do you want me to give you a lift?” he called.

She shook her head. No meaning yes, but he didn’t understand. He’d never understood her. He hadn’t listened. As Addie walked out of the car park, tears rolled down her cheeks. She clung to her plastic bags full of Christmas presents and tried to think about the happy day she’d had with Ed, but the memory had been poisoned. She didn’t understand. One minute, Will couldn’t keep his hands off her and the next he didn’t want anything to do with her. A wind sprang up from nowhere and she was enveloped in a cloud of swirling dead leaves, a rotten snow globe.

When he said he wanted her, she’d believed him, but three times he’d pushed her away and she had to understand the message in that. He was attracted to her. He liked touching her, fucking her, but his conscience was troubling him because he wasn’t like Ed. He didn’t sleep around. Will had a wife and even if they were separated, he was still tied to her. Maybe if the divorce had gone through, things would have been different. Maybe. Addie wanted to forget she’d ever met him, yet knew if he’d asked her to go to London, she’d have crawled on glass to get there.