Never Google Heartbreak (22 page)

‘God, I’ve missed you, Viv.’

‘Uh . . .’ I say. I try to ignore him, unlocking the door as my heart thumps in my throat.

‘Can I come up?’ he asks. I turn round. It is definitely him. He’s here. He wants to come into my home. What do I do? What do I do?

‘Okay,’ I reply.

As we climb the stairs I hear his expensive brogues swish on the cheap carpet. What does he want? Why’s he here? Does my bum look okay? I open the door and he takes a few steps inside as if entering a gallery, inspecting the shrine of my life. Then more steps, heel toe, heel toe across the wooden floor. He turns on one foot like an actor.

‘It’s nice, Viv. Very . . . shabby chic.’ His unasked-for verdict.

‘Thanks.’ I glance at his eyes, the sparkling blue of them. He’s watching me intently. ‘Did you want anything in particular?’ My voice seems tiny.

‘Yes,’ he says, ‘you.’ I put down the shopping, rubbing my hands together and waiting for a punchline and pain. ‘I realised it when you came over the other day – it struck me like a thunderbolt. I want her, I thought. I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I can’t bear to be without you. Let’s get married, Viv!’ Suddenly he’s on his knees, holding my old engagement ring, the solitaire diamond throwing shards of light. I always loved that ring and seeing it again feels like seeing an old friend. I want to snatch it and scuttle away like a sort of Gollum character. He walks on his knees towards me. I close my eyes and open them. He’s kneeling there before me, smiling, dazzling me. I wonder if I might be hallucinating, if I’ve overheated or something. I touch his hair. It’s real.

‘Please will you get up, Rob?’ I say. He stands now, holding the ring up like a hypnotist. I take two steps to the sofa and perch on the arm to steady myself. ‘What about Sam?’

‘It’s over. It’s you I want.’ He sits next to me and takes my hand. ‘I’m so sorry I hurt you.’ I stare at his handsome face. Maybe I’ve been hit by a taxi and I’ll wake up in twenty-four hours in A&E. Maybe it’s all a joke and Sam is giggling somewhere, watching via webcam.

‘Is this a joke?’

‘I’ve never been more serious in my life.’

‘Because it’s not funny. I won’t have you taking the piss out of me.’

‘Marry me, Vivienne.’ He waits. I stare.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Say yes!’ His face is alight, unnerving, with the white toothy smile and the perfect jaw. I take in the familiarity of this face I’ve loved and longed for and feel something shift in my heart.

‘It’s a bit sudden . . .’ I say.

He stands up and strides to the window. ‘Oh come on, Viv! What do you want? You said you wanted me back and here I am on bended knee! I really don’t know what else to do . . .’ He leans against the windowsill, ankles crossed.

‘You can’t just walk in here and say you want to marry me.’

‘But I just did.’

‘Well, it doesn’t work like that.’

He lifts his head, looking at the ceiling, and laughs. ‘Okay, I’m sorry, there I go again. You tell me, my darling. You tell me how it works, Viv.’

‘I don’t know.’ What the hell is going on? I feel my heart thundering.

‘You want me to beg? I’ll beg. I’d cut off my bollocks with a rusty bread knife if I thought that’s what you wanted.’

‘No! No need for that. I don’t know. I was trying to get over you just a minute ago.’

‘Don’t you see? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything and I’m here to make it all better.’

‘But you can’t really make it all better – not just like that.’ I snap my fingers. He just leans and smiles. I look at him, look away, look back, and in that glance I see all my dreams of a life with him. I see us when we first got together, when he wasn’t this big corporate guy, he was just Rob, my Rob, wearing jeans and trainers. He used to be funny. We had plans. We were getting a dog. We’d already named our four kids (although I was never sure about Horatio). We planned to learn gardening and grow our own salads. We even started a herb wheel on the patio, but they all died. Where did that guy go? I look at Rob now and hardly recognise him in his designer suit.

‘I’m real. I’m here. I’m not going away,’ he declares, patting himself.

‘I need a drink,’ I mutter, half to myself.

He reaches in his bag and pulls out a bottle of Bollinger. ‘Let’s open this. I had it chilled . . . I knew you’d say yes.’ He uncorks it expertly and I remember I smashed all my flutes. I slope off to fetch wine glasses.

What the hell is going on? If I drink his bubbly, am I accepting his proposal? And what about Max? I stand in the kitchen, frozen, clutching the glasses. ‘Shit!’ I whisper to the dishwasher. ‘What’s he doing here? Fucking hell!’ In the living room he clears his throat and I hurry back.

‘To us,’ he says, chinking his glass to mine. I look at the sparkling drink, then into his incredible eyes.

‘You think we can just go back to how we were?’ I ask.

He takes my hand and kisses it softly. ‘No, not like before. I didn’t love you properly before. This time I’m going to make you the happiest woman alive. I promise, Viv. Nearly losing you has changed me. I was wrong and I see that now.’ I’m motionless as he moves closer, stroking my hair. ‘I’m really sorry.’

I smell the familiar salt of his skin. He kisses my eyelids. His warm breath is on my mouth and he kisses me gently on the lips, then again. Light tender kisses. Kisses I’ve longed for.

‘You hurt me. I don’t know if . . .’

‘We hurt each other, babe. People in love do that.’ He kisses my mouth again and this time I respond, like an alcoholic falling off the wagon. I kiss him, feeling a twist in my stomach like swallowed acid. He holds my face. ‘Let’s go away somewhere. Let’s just hop on a plane and fly away.’

‘What, somewhere like Bali?’

‘Well, there are two first-class tickets going spare. Five-star hotel, with spa, for a fortnight – we might as well enjoy it.’ He smiles. I realise he’s serious.

‘Don’t think I fancy Bali, Rob.’

‘No. I suppose not. Well, we don’t have to decide now.’

I step back. ‘Don’t say “we”. Just slow down, will you?’

‘Sorry! Sorry, Viv. You’re right we need to talk it all through. I know. It’s just I want to make up for lost time.’ I stare at the darkening window. This is surreal. He sits down and puts his feet up. ‘You were right to leave me, darling. It was just the push I needed.’

I can’t believe it. How many times have I pictured him here? Lived this moment? Yet now I feel . . . a bit annoyed.

‘I’m just going to the loo,’ I announce, and scarper. I rummage in my bag, find my phone and call Max.

‘What’s up, sexy?’ he says.

‘Max. Listen, something’s happened, so don’t come over, okay?’

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Sure? You sound a bit . . . strange.’

‘No, no, I’m okay, it’s just . . . Listen, I’ll explain later. Don’t come – I won’t be in.’

‘Okay, whatever you say . . . but I miss you.’ I squeeze my eyes closed, listening. It will be all right; I’ll explain to Max later.

Rob taps on the door. ‘Viv! Who are you talking to? Come on, I have a surprise for you!’

I lean against the wall. ‘I miss you too,’ I whisper, and hang up as Rob hammers harder.

‘Viv!’ he shouts. I open the door. ‘Who were you talking to, darling?’

‘Just myself.’ He takes my hand and leads me back to the sofa. He’s arranged the deli food I bought on the coffee table and refilled the glasses. Next to my glass is a beautiful turquoise box tied with a white bow.

‘Open it,’ he says in an emotional voice. My hands tremble as I untie the bow. I lift the lid and inside find a soft drawstring pouch. I glance at him; his eyes are shining. He watches me loosen the strings. A filigree chain falls like liquid in my hand, an emerald-cut diamond pendant sparkles. I look at his stunning smile.

‘Put it on.’ I unclasp the chain and hold up my hair while he fastens it round my neck. The diamond falls heavy against my skin. His eyes flick from it to my face and an image flashes, of Max lying over me, his dark eyes and broad shoulders.

‘I can’t accept this . . .’

‘You have to: I got it for you. It’s one of the perks of being successful – I get to shower my girl with jewels.’

‘Your girl?’

‘Yes. Are you going to be my girl again?’

‘I can’t. I don’t know.’

‘Well, listen, just keep the necklace anyway, a token of my esteem. I insist.’

I look at the floor.

‘Thank you, Rob, but I . . .’

‘Kiss,’ he says, pouting.

I lean towards him and he’s pushing his tongue into my mouth. I feel his hand graze my breast. I back off and sit up, touching the cool weight of the stone with my fingers.

‘This diamond, it’s an emerald cut, isn’t it?’ I ask, and sip champagne.

He slumps back. ‘Probably.’

‘It’s very lovely.’

‘It’s two grand of lovely, Viv.’

I finger the chain. ‘Are you sure you want me to have it?’

‘That’s why I gave it to you.’ He takes my hand. ‘Viv, can I stay tonight?’ He looks into my eyes. ‘She’s moving out, you see, and it’s better if I’m not around.’

‘Oh.’ I think of the day I moved out and almost feel sorry for her. I look at this gorgeous man returned to me and search my heart, weighing up my feelings, willing them to be unchanged. But he seems smaller than I remember, diminished somehow. In my heart Rob was a god, but here is the flesh-and-blood person breaking up with his fiancée, like a stranger with the face of someone I loved. It can’t be that I don’t love him . . . It’s the shock, that’s all – after everything we’ve been through.

‘Actually, I need somewhere to crash for a couple of days. I mean, I could go to a hotel, but . . . Viv, I want to live the rest of my life with you, so why not start now?’ I look at his hand holding mine, remembering how I felt when he first proposed. I was bloody over the moon. I was the happiest I’d ever been. I wonder if I could feel like that again.

‘Rob, of course you can stay . . .’

‘You angel!’ He kisses me again. I try to feel something, kissing him back with my eyes open, looking at the perfection of his long lashes against his cheek, feeling his tongue pushing against mine . . . but I can only think of Max. I pull away.

‘What?’

‘We’ll have to take things slowly.’ He drops his head and my throat tightens with a familiar panic. He might leave! I might lose him again. ‘But I’m glad you’re here,’ I add quietly, and he smiles like a schoolboy who’s first in the queue at the tuck shop.

We eat with knives, forks and plates. With a pang of guilt I think of the sexy picnic I’d planned and find I have no appetite. He puts some love songs on to play on the computer, lights a few tealights as if this is his place and settles down to tell me about Sam, as if I’m an android who feels no pain. I stop him. I don’t want to know how he met her a week after I left, how she dazzled him or about her mung bean diet or her silly friends.

He talks about work – he’s due to make partner this year and is well on his way to becoming a millionaire before he’s forty. I watch the sun fade at the window and feel part of my soul fly out over the rooftops, straining towards Max, like an anchored kite. Rob’s phone rings, a sound like a buzzing gnat.

‘Sorry, I should take this,’ he says, flipping it open while putting it to his ear in a smooth and practised movement. ‘Rob Waters.’ I look around the dusk-darkening room, listening to his voice drop. ‘Okay, calm down.’ He walks out into the hall. I tidy up the plates, running water into the sink and sliding them in. I watch them float to the bottom and check my phone. There’s a message from Max.

‘
Can you call me? Are you okay? Are you being held in the rafters by a hairy gorilla? I think I should come over.
’

I reply quickly. ‘
I’m fine. Please don’t come. I’ll explain tomorrow.
’

I wander back into the living room where the computer is playing a soulful melody, a woman singing throatily about her lost lover. I turn her off and hear Rob arguing, hissing something. I think I catch ‘Don’t you even fucking try it!’ then ‘You wouldn’t dare.’ I walk slowly around the room, muttering to myself.

‘I can’t believe he’s here! He wants to get back together!’ I finger the diamond pendant, sliding it along its chain. I could just step back into the life I’d planned, a life of security, married to a gorgeous rich husband. I’d be hosting huge dinner parties in an enormous kitchen somewhere. There’d be children and dogs . . . and Max gazing adoringly . . . I mean Rob –
Rob
gazing adoringly. I rerun the image, replacing the children, realising they’d all looked like mini Maxes.

I look down at the alley, watching a cat that’s not unlike Dave with its tawny tiger markings. It pads along the brick wall, then stops and looks right at me, sending some spooky energy buzzing from its eyes, lasering me to the spot, before disappearing into shadow. What is Max doing right now? My mind keeps returning to him. I really miss him and obviously that’s because of the situation, isn’t it? It’s not exactly ordinary. He’s my lovely friend and we just slept together. Of course I’m going to be thinking about him a bit. But really, if I want my old life back, I should concentrate on Rob. Another circuit of the room; he’s talking urgently to someone. ‘If she thinks . . .’

I log on to nevergoogleheartbreak.com, getting a buzz as it appears. God, Michael did a great job! I check ‘What’s on your mind?’ Nothing new, but I read Max’s words twice over. I think I’ll send him a reply. My phone rings, the display flashing ‘Lucy’ just as Rob returns looking rattled. He motions for me to hang up. I shake my head and he rolls his eyes as I go to the bedroom.

‘Hello? Hello?’

‘I’m here, Luce.’

‘Fucking hell, you’re a hard girl to pin down! Where’ve you been?’

‘You wouldn’t believe it. Guess who’s in the other room right now?’

‘Uh, Father Christmas? Jesus?’

‘Rob!’

‘Oh.’

‘He’s asked me to marry him!’

‘Original.’

‘He’s left Sam and bought me a diamond necklace.’ I pause. There’s silence. ‘So I’m a bit shell-shocked! I’m all over the place . . . don’t know what to do.’

‘Say no. He’s had his chance. Kick him out.’