All I Want Series Boxset, Books 1-3: All I Want for Christmas, All I Want for Valentine's, All I Want for Spring (4 page)

CHAPTER 6

Friday December 2nd

I worked for an online marketing company in central London, and I loved the buzz of working in the capital. Based in a team of 30, I was a solid performer, a big fish in a small pond. The owner, Sal, trusted my judgement, there was a fantastic coffee machine and free pastries daily. It’s amazing what such small stuff can do for staff morale.

I was sitting at the staff room table, working out some figures for a quote when Sal walked in. Sal used to have long, flowing red hair, but last year she’d been diagnosed with cancer and had lost it all to chemo. Now, she wore it short and it really suited her. She was also mistaken for a lesbian far more these days, but told me she quite enjoyed the added attention.

“Morning, No. 1 Lesbian.” That’s what she called me. Honestly, without any prompting. “How’s the dating game?” Sal made herself an espresso, then came and sat opposite me at the table.

“Painful.” I turned down both sides of my mouth in a comedy frown.

“Oh dear, what happened?”

“Let’s see,” I said, counting on my fingers. “Date one was with a drunk Christian, and date two was with an uptight banker who called time on our date after a single coffee — like I’m the worst catch of the century.”

“Ouch,” Sal said. “Some people just don’t know when they strike it lucky. What was her problem?”

I shrugged. “No idea, but Anna did not like what she saw when confronted with me, so she bailed sharpish. Holly was so sure it would work too. I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about it — am I that bad she had to run when the froth on her flat white was still warm?”

“And there was me going to start moaning about my life. Sounds like you need a coffee.” 

“So long as it’s not a flat white,” I said, laughing despite myself. “But let’s see what date three brings tonight.”

“Tonight? You’re packing them in.”

I laughed. “That’s what Holly said. She reminded me I had a duty to go out with her too. So we’re doing that tomorrow — a date-free Saturday.”

“Good. I don’t want you turning into one of those serial daters who struggle to cope with the real world.” Sal took a sip of her coffee and sighed. She looked tired, but that’s what having two-year-old twins will do.

“I promise I’ll get out before I turn too weird.” I paused. “Besides, I can’t do this for a prolonged period of time. I think my body might have a breakdown and I know my wallet would. Dating is an expensive pastime and I’m already exhausted. Can’t you see the amount of make-up I’m wearing today?” I circled my face and jutted out my chin.

“You’ll get no sympathy here with tales of sleep woe. Sleep is something I fondly remember, like something from another, simpler life. Only my lack of sleep is due to two little rascals, rather than burning the candle at both ends.” A smile crossed Sal’s face as she spoke about her daughters. Then she leaned over the table and fixed me with her gaze. “But the question is, have you had a snog out of it yet?”

I gave her a rueful smile. “Not last night, she bailed before I’d finished stirring my drink. And Ruby? Well, she tried to kiss me as we left, but she only got my cheek. Nothing passionate.”

“But tonight could be the passionate one?”

I shrugged. “We’ll see. She might be a raving lunatic or she might be the woman of my dreams.”

Sal laughed. “What’s her name?”

“Sienna,” I replied.

Sal gave a slow nod. “Sienna — sounds like a bit of posh totty to me.” She smiled, before raising her espresso cup. “Here’s to you and Sienna — may you have a night filled with passionate kisses.”

I clinked my imaginary coffee cup to hers.

***

December 2nd and I was already on date three — even I was impressed at the speed of my progress. Holly had already told me I had to be more choosy, but being choosy was what had got me here in the first place.

I was still exhausted, as today had been a busy day with three external meetings. I’d tramped across half of London, and my face felt like it needed to be put on a hot wash after miles of Tube travel. About the last thing I wanted to do right now was go on a date. My ideal date for tonight would be my duvet and my bed.

I headed to the Thai restaurant where I was meeting Sienna, which was decorated in suitably chintzy shades of gold and pink. I’d wanted to try out this restaurant for a while now as it’d been getting stellar reviews. Tonight it was packed with customers all chowing down on Thai classics with a modern twist, and the scent of coriander, garlic and chilli made my mouth water. I spruced up my make-up in the toilets before taking a seat.

Sienna worked in the charity sector, which immediately put her on the moral high ground. She was from East London, had a cockney accent that curled at the edges and a definite orange hue. She arrived half an hour late which didn’t endear her to me, causing me to drink a glass of wine before she arrived. Couple that with my extreme tiredness and I could feel my eyelids getting heavy before she sat down.

“Sorry I’m late, I got stuck at work.” A waft of cigarette smoke sailed across my nostrils as she unwound her massive rainbow scarf and sat down, eagerly perusing the menu. “Have you ordered already?”

“Only a glass of wine while I waited.” I indicated my empty glass.

“Fab — I’ll get a bottle. Was it red?”

I nodded and she got the attention of a nearby waiter.

So, Sienna looked like her profile picture — tick. After all the scary stories I’d heard about online dating, I half-expected one of my dates to turn up and be a man. However, Sienna was very much a woman, her low-cut top providing an invitation to her breasts — double tick. She had short, black hair and was dressed casually in trousers and a red top. She was promising.

“So sorry about my time-keeping again. Our American office decided they wanted to chat just as I was walking out the door.” She threw me an apologetic smile as she shifted in her seat to get comfortable.

“American office? Sounds like you’re in banking and not the charity sector.”

She shook her head. “A lot of people think that — but the charity sector is a big, global business these days. We’re always on the lookout for donations and ways to spend the money best. Nobody sleeps, believe me.”

Mention of sleep deprivation made me open my eyes wider. I wanted to appear as alert as possible, even though I was
this
close to slumping on the table.

The wine arrived a few minutes later and we ordered our food, then settled back to get to know each other. It turned out that Sienna was born and raised in London and her parents still lived within a ten-minute walk of her front door.

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who didn’t move
to
London. I can’t imagine being raised here.” I shook my head. “That means you’ve been riding the Tube your whole life.”

Sienna laughed. “I have. I used to take the Tube into town with my mates at the weekend and cause havoc. Still do, but I’m an adult now, so it’s overlooked.”

I grinned at her. “Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

“How about you? I can’t detect an accent.”

I shook my head. “Oxford, no accent required. My mum’s a professor there.”

“Does that mean you’re posh?” Sienna poured wine into my glass with a reassuring glug.

“People tend to think so, but no, it doesn’t just rub off like gold dust. Besides, being a professor is a grand title with poor pay. At least, that’s what my mum always tells me when I try to tap her up for a loan.”

We chatted for another half an hour with no sign of food. With another glass of wine in my empty stomach, I kept having to shake my head to snap myself awake. Falling asleep at the table was definitely bad manners, but I desperately needed some food to sustain me.

A few minutes later, I excused myself to go to the loo — all the liquid had taken its toll. I sat down, sighing with tiredness, closed my eyes and leaned my head on the cool, white tiles of the toilet stall. Against my hot, red cheek they were wonderfully soothing.

Date number three wasn’t going so bad. First, she’d ordered a bottle of wine which meant she had no intention of running away any time soon. Second, she hadn’t tried to convert me to Jesus yet. What’s more, she was attractive and seemed on my wavelength. This could be the start of something, so perhaps Sienna would be my Christmas girlfriend? Plus, Sienna was a beautiful name — I could well get used to going out with a Sienna.

I let my mind drift off as I rested my head heavier against the reassuring toilet wall. Perhaps we’d kiss outside the restaurant later, then go on to a bar and sit closer than necessary to each other. Then perhaps we’d brush each other’s hands under the table. Kiss at the bus stop on the way home and send each other soppy messages tomorrow as we made plans for our second date and beyond. Perhaps…

However, when I woke up 35 minutes later, those were not the thoughts I was thinking. On opening my eyes, I squinted into the bright light of the cubicle, clutched the toilet seat and steadied myself. I peeled my head off the wall, wincing as my neck screeched at me for leaving it at such an awkward angle for over half an hour.

Where the hell was I? I rolled my shoulder and tried to loosen my upper body, which was stiff from lack of movement. I winced at the pain, while wiping up dribble from my chin and my shoulder with some toilet tissue.

I clung on to the toilet roll dispenser while my brain tried to make sense of the situation. Why was I asleep on a toilet? A toilet that wasn’t even mine? And since when did I fall asleep on toilets?

And then it came to me.

I was on a date. I was on a
ruddy date
.

But instead of sitting opposite my date, being charming and laughing at all of her jokes, I was dribbling on a toilet with my trousers around my ankles.

I closed my eyes and exhaled. I was the world’s worst date, in widescreen technicolour. With a cherry on the top.

And it had all been going
so
well.

The last thing I wanted to do right now was get up off the toilet and face my mistake. But it was the one thing I had to do, especially if I wanted the kissing, drinking and soppy text messages to take place. All of which had seemed a pretty sure bet 40 minutes ago. But now? Not so much.

I rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes to wake myself up, then swore lightly under my breath as I remembered too late I’d applied extra mascara before the date. I was now pretty sure that extra mascara was smeared down my cheeks. I wiped dribble from my mouth again and got myself upright, pulling up my trousers and crashing into the toilet wall as I did. I stopped and steadied myself again, breathing deeply through a blurred haze. My head was foggy, like I was shipwrecked.

I hurled myself out of the stall, staggering left, then right. I slowed my movements, allowing my body a chance to wake up — it was clearly still asleep and who could blame it? I clutched the sink in front of me, and sure enough, when I surveyed my face, I looked like a drunk, mascara-obsessed panda. Triffic.

I splashed some water on my face and frantically tried to use some tissue to clean it up, but I only managed to smear the mascara over a wider area. I shook my head and laughed at my reflection, mild hysteria swelling inside. If Sienna hadn’t already left, she was certain to run like the wind when she saw the horror story walking towards her.

I straightened my hair the best I could, already composing my apologies in my head. But what exactly did you say to someone when you’d left them sitting alone for over half an hour? Did you admit to falling asleep, or make up some emergency? I decided to go with the emergency option.

I drew myself up to my full height, pulling my shoulders back as my mother always told me to. Then I pushed open the door and strode back into the restaurant with as much swagger as I could muster, only to be greeted by an empty table and a half-drunk glass of wine. I spun my gaze around the room but I had to face facts — Sienna had gone and I can’t say I blamed her.

I sat down and exhaled, before getting the waiter’s attention as my stomach rumbled.

“The other woman — has she left?”

The waiter gave me a sad smile and a nod. “She go,” he said, turning his head towards the door. “And she cancel your food too.”

Shit. This was not going to be good for my dating reputation. I put my head in my hands as my stomach rumbled again. Then I reached into my bag and grabbed my phone, pulling up Sienna’s number. I paused, my fingers hovering over the keys. Now I had the phone in my hand, what exactly was I supposed to say? ‘So sorry, I fell asleep in the toilet’? Try as I might, I couldn’t come up with a better plan. I decided to sleep on it.

I put my phone on the table and glanced at my watch: just gone 9pm. There was still wine left, and I’d wanted to try this restaurant for a while now. Plus, I was starving as my stomach kept reminding me. I needed something to soak up the alcohol.

I signalled to the waiter again.

“Could I still get some food?”

He nodded.

I consulted the menu again, ordered and sat back. At least if the food was as good as the reviews, this night wouldn’t turn out to be a total disaster. Best to look on the bright side.

Just then, ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham! began to flow from the restaurant speakers, presumably to rub salt in my wounds. I had nobody special to give my heart to. I was a sad, sleepy loser.

I poured Sienna’s wine into my glass and saw someone waving out of the corner of my eye. I turned to my left.

It was Melanie Taylor, a smile breaking out on her face as she saw me. She was sitting with what I could only assume was her new fiancée, just two tables along from me.

Oh no, not now.
Not when I looked like a starved raccoon.

Before I could react, Melanie was on the move, reaching my table in seconds. Her closely cropped hair was sitting just-so on her head, and I wasn’t sure her smile could get any wider. Clearly, Melanie was loved up.

“How
are
you?” Melanie already had her arms wide open, and her smile had changed to a concerned, pitiful expression that said ‘eating out alone again?’ I wanted to sink under the table. On top of everything, I didn’t need Melanie Taylor to rub her happiness in my face. However, I was out of luck.