Always Mr. Wrong (5 page)

My father gave me his ‘proud of you’ smile.
“Yes, Clare, that’s all your mother needed to hear.” He turned to
my mother. “Sit down, Glenda. You’re making yourself look a
complete ass,” he said in his authoritative tone, only used when
someone really pissed him off.

“May I just say a few words?” Marjorie
timidly raised her hand, picking up her handbag with the other. “I
would just like to say, Doctor Foreman, how thankful I am that I am
aware of your..., situation. It could have been very embarrassing
indeed.” She fidgeted around inside her handbag, everyone straining
their necks to see what she had slid onto her lap under the
tablecloth. “I was tidying your office the other day, after
you’d...what is the word you used? Worked out, and I came upon
something ... something that was, should we say, misplaced?”

“Marjorie,
” said the firm tone from my
father. “I told you earlier, this is neither the time nor the
place.”

Ignoring my father’s request, she continued.
“Clare, I think this must belong to you.” She held up my black lace
thong.

* * * *

Christmas came around, full of joy and cheer,
and so did my mother about Guy and me. Marjorie, on the other hand,
was still as frosty as a snowman towards Guy. I had made sure that
I kept enough distance between Marjorie and myself, not that I was
the least bit embarrassed. Quite the opposite. In fact, if we had
happened to bump into each other I’d have probably smacked her in
the chops. Thanks to Marjorie spreading the seasonal message,
co-workers’ innuendoes about misplaced lingerie had been rather
embarrassing.

New Year, new resolutions and Guy, the new
man in my life. My life just seemed to be getting better and
better. I’d forgotten how exciting a new relationship was. Firstly
the ‘can’t keep your hands off each other stage’. Followed by the
‘discovery stage’. Finding out how much you have in common. The
quirks about each other that all go hand-in-hand with falling head
over heels in love. Then lastly ‘commitment’. The stage when you
begin to share your future together, when you know that no matter
what, you want to spend the rest of your life with this person,
even the quirks.

Okay, I’d be a liar if I said Mum’s comments
about having a baby had not lingered in the back of my
subconscious. Yes, I’m thirty-six, in a few months thirty-seven,
and let’s face it, good old Mother Nature is not on my side. You
see, my problem is I have fallen head over heels in love for the
very first time. Yet I’m stuck in the discovery stage, still bloody
discovering where Guy and I are heading.

“Just ask him straight out,” said my sister
as cool as a cucumber.

“It’s not something you ask though, is it?
‘Guy, where is this relationship going, and does it include
children?’” I replied.

“Clare, are you out of your head just
thinking this?” Jess slopped three mugs of coffee down on the
table.

Oh, sweet baby Jesus, I can tell by the dewy
look in Jess’s eyes she is about to embark on a chick lit, cum
chick flick moment.

“From the moment I saw you in my kitchen
together I said to Martin they are like strawberries and cream. You
could never imagine one without the other. Just like Wendy and
Walter...a match made in heaven, but no one ever thought it would
work.”

I dropped my head into my hands. “Please, for
the love of God, let Wendy and Walter be real people.”

Jess gave me a haughty glare. “You may mock,
Clare, but these people write about real life experiences.”

“As I was saying,” Eleanor interjected and
not soon enough. “If you never ask you’ll never be able to move
forward, will you?” For once, my sister was actually speaking some
sense. “Look at Hema and me.”

Jess and I both groaned. Eleanor’s new yoga,
vegan, Buddhist boyfriend, whose real name was Dwain, worked at Pet
City and lived with his granny in Palmers Green. He was actually
very sweet and had spent the last three weeks cleansing my sister’s
aura, not that my family, Guy or I had a bloody clue what cleansing
her aura entailed. But we all admitted she was a lot calmer. Okay,
he may have cleansed her aura, but her physical needs needed a
little more work. When Hema was around, she didn’t eat meat or
drink wine and coffee. Instead, she had oats, nuts and his homemade
nettle tea, as Hema sat, flexing, meditating and prophesizing
crossed legged on my living room floor.

“He says true love comes from opening up your
heart. If feelings are kept inside how will we truly know each
other. Something about a sunflower needing sun. Oh, I’m not sure
about the sunflower thing.”

Neither was I but the first bit seemed
logical. But by the sudden beam on Jess’s face I knew she knew what
Eleanor was saying.
“Strike while the iron’s hot, Clare. You
have to admit Guy’s a catch. And have you ever been this
happy?”

Bursting with excitement, Jess jigged around
in her seat. “Oh, Clare, do it tonight. Just do it. I can see it
now...a July wedding, you in oyster with peach flowers in your hair
and Olivia in peach, throwing flower petals down the aisle. You
could book a country manor. God, Guy would look so sexy in a
tuxedo.”

That’s all I need...advice from my ex-nympho
party-going sister who has suddenly become a relationship guru and
Jess who is the chick lit queen and thinks every real life
relationship is a Jane Green Novel.

“With Olivia at home this weekend, I hardly
think so. Unless you would like me to broach the subject, while
standing at the salad cart in Harvester tonight. Or Sunday lunch at
Mum’s seems to be the norm for discussing our relationship.”

* * * *

That night Guy came down from putting Olivia
to bed. He breezed into the living room, the biggest smile on his
face, and kissed me on the top of my head. “I’d forgotten how much
I loved The Famous Five stories when I was a boy. I hope when she
is a little older, she’ll let me read her Sherlock Holmes.”

Well, I don’t think I would have been so
shocked if he had slapped me around the face with a wet fish.

“But I expect she’ll be into.... What do
girls read when they get to twelve?” he shouted from the
kitchen.

My pulse began to race.

I looked at Eleanor’s lucky Buddha she had
left on the fireplace and then to the other trivia of fen shui she
had decorated my living room with, she and Hema saying it would
increase positive vibes and love.

Bloody hell, this crap must be working.
Well, that has answered my question on where we are going. I mean,
he’s not talking five weeks or five months. He’s talking five
years. Are those the words of a man who wants a commitment?
I
looked to the little Buddha, almost expecting him to give me a wink
or wave a hand, confirming I was right.

In a shear act of anticipation that maybe
there was something in all this junk, I jumped up and lit a handful
of yin and yang joss sticks and began wafting them around the room,
feeling a complete fool, performing this stupid ritual that earlier
I had refused point blank to do in front of my sister and
boyfriend. Nevertheless, just to make sure, I wafted them around
the cheeky little Buddha, reciting. “Let him say yes. Let him say
yes.” I was now ready for the next stage.

Commitment
. Asking Guy to move in with
me.

Bounding back to the sofa, I quickly cleared
my head and focused on loving and positive thoughts. Well actually,
I was thinking how best to seduce Guy and then ask him to move in.
No time to dash upstairs and slip into something sexy and
seductive,

I quickly pulled off my sweater, pulled down
my vest to reveal more cleavage, congratulating myself for
remembering to put on my Wonder Bra. My 34As now looked perky and
full over the scoop neck. I then heard what I thought was the pop
of a cork.
Bloody hell! Was our karma or auras working as one?
Was Guy going to ask to move in with us?

“You never said what she would like?” Guy
walked back into the living room, taken by surprise at my lack of
clothes, and me lying seductively across the sofa. “Are you hot? Or
feeling un-well? Would you like the heating turned down?”

Pouting my lips, I purred in my best sexy
husky voice. “Only hot for you. I thought I heard champagne. Are we
celebrating?” My sexy husky voice didn’t come over as Greta Gabo or
Eartha Kit, as I imagined, more like I had a sixty-day Marlborough
habit.

“Sorry to disappoint you, it’s a bottle of
sparkling wine a patient gave me. I’d left it in the car. I popped
it in the fridge when you were bathing Olivia.” He returned to the
kitchen to fetch the wine.

“So you think a lot about the future, do
you?” I wanted to shout. “I mean me and Olivia?” I looked at the
laughing Buddha on the fireplace.
I may as well ask the question
myself. You, my little fat friend laughing at me from the
fireplace, are a useless piece of crap.

“When I’m not working I think of nothing
else.” He returned placing our drinks on the coffee table.

“So, what do you think about?”
God, this
is like pulling teeth.

“Well, actually, oh God I wish I had brought
the champagne now. I’ve wanted to ask you something for a few days
now, and tonight after reading to Olivia I thought just do it.”
Sitting beside me, he took my hands softly began stroking them. He
seemed hesitant to ask.
Come on, come on spit it out. It’s just
five simple words. Shall we move in together.

“After the house fell through in Hampstead I
saw this house in Knightsbridge. I know it’s in the city, but it’s
not a million miles away from Southgate. It’s a shorter tube ride
to the hospital, and there are some great schools around there I
checked. I suppose what I am trying to say is...” Taking my hand
and gently kissing it, he slid off the sofa onto one knee. “Clare,
will you marry me?”

For some bizarre reason I began to giggle,
not quite the reaction Guy was expecting, I am sure. Yet all I
could think was who I wanted to fling my arms around first...Guy or
the fat little man who sat looking at me now with what seemed a
look of triumph on his cute, round face, who had worked more than
his magic. “I’m so sorry, Guy. I am just so surprised. I thought
you were going to ask to move in with me,” I flung my arms around
him. “Yes, yes.” I squealed in excitement. “I’ll marry you.”

He reached into his trouser pocket.

Oh, my god he already has a ring.
I
composed myself, wiped the stray tears of joy from my cheeks and
held out my hand in anticipation. Instead, he pulled out a sheet of
paper.
What the hell is that, for the love of God!! Not a ring
he has found on E-bay, printed off a picture, waiting to know if I
like it before he starts bidding? On the other hand, a bloody
credit note. He’s paid the money up front. I’ve got to go in myself
and choose it? No, Guy would never ever do either of those, would
he?

With a sigh of relief, as I looked at the
paper it was details of the house.

“No rush. Take your time. If you don’t like
it, fine. We can look at more. I perfectly understand.”

Holy shit, Knightsbridge, that’s like mega
posh. Who cares a flying fuck about Southgate? Wait until I drop
this little beauty at the school gates to those mothers who think
they are so better than me, sneering at me because Guy is over
fifty. “Yes, I’m marrying Guy, haven’t
y
ou heard? We
are moving to Knightsbridge.”
I would flash my rock as big as
my fist in front of their noses.

Clare, just be cool, be calm, sound
interested, at the same time thrilled, but for pity’s sake not like
a bloody child on Christmas morning opening its presents. Or,
better still, I could look at the paper later and seal the deal by
taking Guy right here on the sofa. No! Look at the house first,
then sex.

“Knightsbridge—that sounds nice,” desperate
to keep the excitement out of my voice.

With shaking hands, I looked at the paper.
The house was beyond my wildest dreams. I read the details aloud,
my voice sounding more excited as I spoke. “Lounge, kitchen,
utility room and a breakfast room, as well as a dining room. FOUR
BEDROOMS, ALL WITH EN-SUITE AND DOMESTIC ACCOMMODATION.” I looked
at Guy in disbelief. “Do we need that many rooms?”

“Well, one room for us, one for Olivia, a
guest room, the au pair would stay in domestic accommodation, and
the other I thought....

“Sorry, Guy,” I interrupted. “An au pair? For
Olivia? Or,” I laughed. “Will the other bedroom be for Eleanor? I
know she needs looking after, but I think an au pair a little
OTT.”

Guy took the paper out of my hands, took my
shoulders and turned me around to face him. “I’d hoped we’d make
the other into a nursery.”

My heart seemed to stop beating, no oxygen
flowing through my veins. I felt light headed. I needed air. Things
started to fade away.

“Clare, Clare! Are you alright? Breathe!” Guy
still on his knees in front of me was seconds away from
administering mouth to mouth as I let out a sudden gasp.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what came over
me.”

“It’s all a little overwhelming, I know,
asking you to marry me, the house and a baby. I assume most women
would react that way. I hope that nearly passing out on me like
that was because you were delighted?”

“And I am. I’m the happiest woman in the
world.” I flung my arms around him, hoping that as we held each
other tight that my trembling perceived as elation of soon to be
Mrs Foreman from Kensington with their new baby.

* * * *

Two weeks had passed since Guy’s proposal. Of
course I was ecstatic. Who wouldn’t be, planning a new life with
the most handsome, cleverest and talented man, not to mention a
sensational lover? Looking at a house that I only ever dreamed of
living in. But you know when you get that feeling in the pit of
your stomach, when you know that something is not quite right?
Well, I had that every time nurseries, au pairs or babies came into
a conversation.