The Wedding Diary (Choc Lit) (18 page)

‘But I didn’t mean—’

‘Adam, it’s okay, it’s not a problem.’ Cat closed her eyes and snuggled down beneath the fat, white duvet. ‘It’s late and we’re both tired. Let’s get some sleep.’

‘Cat, wake up!’ Adam shook her harder. ‘You misunderstood me. If you go shopping on a Saturday afternoon, I’ll come along. I’ll even push and shove my way down bloody Oxford Street. I’ll do couples stuff on Sunday mornings.’

‘You don’t have to, Adam,’ Cat assured him, hardly taking in what he was saying, anyway. ‘I don’t go shopping on Saturdays myself. Or not in Oxford Street, at any rate. Some Saturdays I’m at the salvage yard, flogging old Victorian skirting boards or stripped pine doors to DIY fanatics, or helping people find a garden ornament that isn’t made of concrete.’ She yawned in earnest then. ‘Some Sunday mornings, I go to see my parents. But if we’re going to stay in touch when we get back to England, I’d really like to learn about your work.’

‘I’ll learn you,’ promised Adam. ‘Cat, I’ll—’

‘—teach me, even?’

‘Learn you, teach you, anything!’

‘Good,’ said Cat. ‘So now we’ve got that sorted, we’re going to sleep, all right?’

The morning light came slanting through the dark green painted shutters. Adam had been awake all night, watching Cat as she lay sleeping peacefully and wondering what to say, how much to say, and when to say it.

He got up, pulled his jeans on and went to make some coffee.

He wasn’t very good at making coffee. It always seemed to come out far too weak or far too strong. Today it looked like treacle and there were some gritty speckles floating on the surface.

But it would have to do. As he stirred in milk for Cat and sugar for himself, he decided he would take it slowly. He’d get to know this girl and not go rushing into things. He wouldn’t make the mistakes he’d made with Maddy. He wouldn’t make assumptions, and he wouldn’t frighten Cat away.

After all, there wasn’t any hurry.

He carried the laden tray into the bedroom and put it on the nightstand. Then he stroked Cat’s hair back from her forehead until her green eyes opened and she smiled at him.

‘Buon giorno, caro mio,’
she began. She giggled as her hair tickled her face.
‘Come sta?’
she added doubtfully.

‘Good morning, Cat,’ said Adam. ‘It should be
come stai
, I think. But I don’t do Italian this early in the day.’

‘You don’t do Italian any time, according to Italians. Or that was what you told me, anyhow. Do I smell coffee, Adam?’

‘Yes, I made some – milk, no sugar, right?’

‘I think I’ll drink it later.’

‘Oh, why’s that?’

‘I want something else right now.’

Cat’s smile became seductive and, as she walked her fingers down his chest and reached the whorl of hair around his navel, he began to shiver with desire. ‘Adam, come to bed?’

Afterwards, he told her – this was the real thing.

‘You know what I’m saying, don’t you?’ he continued, as he tilted up her chin and as he made her look into his eyes. ‘I’m in love with you.’

‘I don’t think I believe you.’

‘Why?’

‘You told me, didn’t you? You said you don’t—’

‘Cat, I’ve met a lot of girls, but never one as gorgeous, as desirable, as smart, as sweet as you. Every single moment I’ve spent with you has been a perfect pleasure, an absolute delight.’

‘Stop it, Adam, I can’t deal with this.’ Cat looked away. ‘You’re only trying to make me say I love you.’

‘I don’t need to try. You’re the sort of person who can’t hide what you feel. Cat Aston, you’re in love with me.’

‘You sound very confident, but how can you be sure?’

‘I’m only
almost
sure – so tell me so yourself?’

‘I’m in love with you.’ Cat looked at him and sighed. She knew there wasn’t any point in arguing with Adam or in trying to deceive him. He was an enchanter who could see into your heart. ‘I think I fell in love with you when you were so kind to that old man. You changed his tyre. You called the breakdown lorry. You even paid the men to take him home.’

‘Anybody would have done it.’

‘No they wouldn’t, Adam. When did you decide you might like me?’

‘The evening you were crying in the pub.’ Adam looped Cat’s hair out of her eyes. ‘I wanted more than anything to see you smile again.’

‘You got what you wanted, then.’

‘I did.’

‘What are we going to do about it?’ Cat asked doubtfully. ‘I mean about this being in love?’

‘We’ll have to decide where we should live.’

‘We’re moving in together, are we?’

‘Yes, I think so,’ he replied.

‘Where do you live now?’

‘When I’m in London, I share a flat in Camden with Jules Devine and Gwennie Smith. They’re two of my best friends.’ Adam smiled reassuringly at Cat. ‘You’ll love them, they’ll love you. I know they will.’

‘What are they like?’

‘They’re fun, they’re generous and they’re kind. They buy coffees, cakes and sandwiches for street musicians, homeless people and
Big Issue
sellers. They stick fivers in collecting tins.’

‘What do they do – for work, I mean?’

‘Gwennie is a dental nurse and Jules is a rep for Bayer, Pfizer, Glaxo – one of those. He’s always changing jobs, so I lose track. The flat’s awash with pencils, ballpoints, notebooks, post-its, key-rings – all the promotions stuff he gives away to doctors. Cat, what are your favourite things? What’s your favourite food, your favourite colour, favourite scent?’

‘Pasta, purple, you,’ said Cat. She shook her head at him. ‘So you do have relationships with girls?’

‘I never said I didn’t.’

‘You implied it.’

‘You jumped to conclusions.’

‘Did I, Adam?’

‘Or you deliberately misunderstood me.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Cat insisted.

‘What’s so funny?’ he demanded as she grinned at him.

‘I believe we’re having our first row.’

‘No we’re not because I don’t do rows.’

‘What do you do?’

‘I do proposals.’

Adam had decided he would take it very slowly, but now he couldn’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out.

‘Cat Aston,’ he said softly as he gazed into her beautiful green eyes. ‘Cat, will you marry me?’

‘I—Adam, are you serious?’

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

‘We hardly know each other.’

‘We know all the important stuff.’

‘We do?’

‘Of course we do.’ Adam kissed her on the forehead then drew back to look at Cat again, to drink in her beauty, stamp her image on his heart. ‘I love you, Cat, and so what else is there to know?’

‘Well, nothing, I suppose.’ Cat gazed back at him. ‘Adam, are you really asking me to marry you?’

‘I’m asking you to marry me, to be my wife and have our children.’

‘Then – yes, I will.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure.’ Cat smiled at him. ‘You took me by surprise, that’s all. But you’ve also made me very happy.’

‘Good,’ said Adam. ‘You’ve made me happy, too.’

‘What time’s your flight?’ asked Adam, as they ate their breakfast in Pietro’s uncle’s restaurant.

‘Ten past eight this evening,’ Cat replied.

‘Mine’s not until tomorrow, but I’ll change it.’

‘There’s no need,’ said Cat. ‘I’m going to Heathrow, not Kazakhstan. I can get back to Leyton by myself.’

‘But I don’t want to be away from you.’

Adam leaned towards her, then he kissed her, and she smelled the wonderful, just-shaved-and-showered scent of him.

I’ve never been so happy in my life, she thought, as she tasted coffee, honey, buttered croissants, him, and decided this would always be the taste of happiness.

Then, glancing up, she saw Pietro’s uncle smirk. It was as if he said, I told you so.

‘What will you be doing this morning?’ she enquired.

‘I have two appointments then I’ve finished.’

‘Who are you going to meet?’

‘The manager of a quarry at eleven – I need to make some contacts here in Italy, you see, and get stuff shipped direct, rather than buy what I need from a supplier in London at an enormous mark-up. Then I’m calling on a master stonemason who has a yard a few miles out of Lucca. Pietro says he’s got some tools I’ll need and he’ll be happy to sell to me. I’ll be away for two, three hours, no more. I won’t be apart from you a minute longer than I have to be.’ Adam stirred his coffee. ‘You could look round the shops again, perhaps? Buy some of that glass you thought your mum and dad might like?’

‘Or I could come with you to the quarry?’

‘You’d probably be bored.’

‘I wouldn’t, Adam,’ Cat replied. ‘I work in an architectural salvage yard, remember? I often see Italian marble in an awful state, green and cracked and crumbling, ingrained with soot and dirt.’

‘Yes, I suppose you must.’

‘So, while I’m in Italy, I’d really like to see where marble comes from, find out how it’s quarried, how it’s carved, how Italian craftsmen repair it and restore it.’ Cat met Adam’s gaze. ‘I’m interested in what you do. I told you so last night.’

‘Okay, you come along,’ said Adam, nodding. ‘Then, after we’ve seen Ricardo Angeli and Giancarlo Russo, we’ll drive on to Pisa and have a look around.’

‘Maybe I’ll get to see a few more towers, then?’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised. We can’t leave Pisa, can we, without going to see the leaning tower and taking a photograph of you holding it up?’

‘Of course we can’t,’ said Cat, as she poured out more coffee. ‘Adam, do you know what stops the tower from falling down?’

‘It goes round in a circle, so it’s always moving. If it wasn’t moving, it would fall.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘It’s the truth.’ Adam took another croissant, buttered it and loaded it with honey. ‘It’s a very interesting theory, anyway.’

‘Go on – explain?’

‘When the sun heats up the marble on the south side of the tower, it expands and makes the tower lean even more.’

‘So why—’

‘But when it gets dark, the marble shrinks, and the whole building changes its position, completing a small circle. It’s to do with equilibrium – disturbing and restoring it.’

‘Adam, you’re amazing, you know everything,’ said Cat. ‘If I ever get to be on
Millionaire
, you’ll definitely be my phone-a-friend.’

I’ll never fall myself, she thought, as long as I have you.

The plane was late, and it was well past midnight before they left the burger-scented chaos of Heathrow.

‘We’ll get a cab,’ said Adam.

‘It will be expensive.’ Cat was rummaging in her bag and thinking, do I dare to use a cash machine, or will it spit my card back in my face? ‘Taxi drivers always stick it on for airport rides. They all think we’re stupid foreigners who can’t get the hang of British money. Why don’t we get the bus?’

‘Cat, it doesn’t matter about money,’ Adam said. ‘So please put your purse away, or somebody will snatch it.’

‘You can’t pay for everything,’ she said. ‘I owe you for my room, my meals, and how much did it cost to go up all those towers and into all those palaces and galleries and things?’

‘We’ll talk about it later. Now, we’re going to find a cab.’

‘Okay.’ Cat was very tired, and she could see that Adam was determined, so she stopped arguing.

Adam couldn’t wait to get back home to Camden Town.

He hoped Jules and Gwennie would be up. The chances were they would be. They sometimes lounged around and watched old movies starring Bette Davis or Clark Gable until well past two or three o’clock.

Gwennie was addicted, and Jules was always happy to stay up with Gwennie, provided there were also bacon sandwiches, a big bag of Doritos, a tub of Ben and Jerry’s Fossil Fuel and a pack of Heineken to ward off night starvation.

We’ll get another sofa, he decided, a big, fat squashy one with lots of cushions. Then all four of us can loll around, eat bacon sandwiches and watch Gwennie’s movies half the night.

Cat and Gwennie – they would get on fine, he knew they would. They’d like each other straight away. As for Jules – he’d take the piss a bit. He always did when Adam got involved with anybody new. But that was Jules for you, a wanker with a heart of gold.

So maybe getting a new place for just the two of them was not the way to do it, after all? Maybe Cat could move into the flat in Camden Town, where there was loads of room? Then they could save for a deposit on a house?

‘God, I’m so sleepy,’ murmured Cat as she climbed into the taxi cab. ‘It was all that exercise. I’m so not used to it.’

‘I’ll get you fit, you’ll see.’ Adam kissed her forehead. ‘But I’ve already told you, I’m not God.’

‘You’re so not funny, Adam.’ Cat could not stop yawning. It was as if she’d caught a yawning bug. ‘I need to go to bed.’

‘But in the meantime have a little doze.’ Adam put his arm around her shoulders so she could rest her head against his chest. He stroked her hair until she fell asleep. He stared out of the window at the bright lights of Heathrow, and realised he had never felt so blessed.

More prosaically – he hoped he hadn’t left his bedroom looking like a rubbish dump. But he was almost certain it was more or less respectable, that there would be no pizza boxes, Stella cans or rotting Chinese takeaways composting on the floor.

He might not be taking Cat back to a scented bower of summer roses, but hopefully there wouldn’t be a tangled mess of jeans and socks to kick through before they went to bed.

He’d changed the sheets before he’d gone to Italy. He definitely remembered doing that. He was almost sure he’d stuffed his washing in the basket which his mother bought for him last Christmas, probably more in hope than expectation – thank you, Mum.

Stop worrying, he told himself, everything is going to be all right. After all, there’s nothing to go wrong. We understand each other perfectly, and we’re in love.

He closed his eyes and slept.

‘Hey, mate, is this the place?’ the cabbie asked him, startling him awake.

He looked out of the window, and saw to his surprise that he was suddenly home again. He shoved a bunch of tenners at the driver and helped a sleepy Cat out of the cab.

‘The view’s not quite as special as the one we had in Lucca,’ he told Cat as he took out his keys.

‘It doesn’t matter, Adam,’ she assured him. ‘Anyway, I can always look at you.’

‘I need a shave.’

‘But I always think the Desperate Dan look’s very sexy, especially on a man.’

‘I need a shower, as well.’

‘Okay, shall I come back some other time?’

‘You’re not going anywhere tonight.’

They made their stumbling way upstairs, a laughing, hugging, whispering, kissing huddle of coats and carrier bags and other luggage.

Cat was already pulling grips and clips out of her hair – the gorgeous hair that curled in sinuous ringlets, wound itself around his fingers, just as Cat had wound her lovely self around his heart.

The heart he’d thought was broken and would never mend. But it obviously had, for these days it was singing.

The flat was dark and silent.

Jules’s and Gwennie’s bedroom door was open. So they must be out, he thought, and they might stay out all night if they’d gone somewhere miles away from home. They’d probably stay over with relatives or friends.

But perhaps that would be for the best, and maybe introductions could wait until the morning, anyway?

Or the following evening, if they went straight into work?

‘Do you want anything to eat?’ he asked, as he began to turn on lights – and turn some off again, because the kitchen was a tip. There were empty packets, cartons, bottles everywhere, and it looked like nobody had washed up for a week.

‘I’m not hungry,’ Cat replied, and smiled a feline smile. ‘Well, not for food, in any case.’ She slid her arms around his waist. ‘I’m shattered, though, aren’t you? Adam, I’ve been thinking – it would be so lovely to be under a duvet, curled up with someone nice.’

‘I was sort of thinking that, as well.’

‘We’d better go to bed, then, hadn’t we?’

Adam’s bedroom door was firmly closed. As he opened it, he realised there was something wrong.

The curtains were pulled tight – he’d left them open.

There was a burger box, some sandwich wrappers and a Coke can on his desk – he hated burgers and could not remember the last time he had bought a can of Coke.

There were piles of books and magazines and clothing scattered, jumbled, heaped up on the floor – he’d put almost everything away.

As his eyes adjusted, as light from the landing spilled in a white arc into his room, he saw there was someone in his bed.

Bloody Jules, he thought, he might have asked, he might have texted, before he let his bloody mate crash here.

Or maybe it was one of Gwennie’s friends? Or Gwennie’s sister Lauren, come to the big city for a week to do some serious shopping? There were lots of carrier bags from Topshop and Miss Selfridge littering the floor.

‘Excuse me,’ he said loudly, as he turned on the light.

Then he thought, why am I saying excuse me? It’s my bedroom and I need this bed. So whoever’s in it can doss down in the sitting room tonight.

As he was about to speak again – to tell this interloper to get up, get out, and sound as if he meant it – the body in his bed began to move.

It raised its head and stared at him, shielding its eyes against the light.

‘Adam?’ it said sleepily. ‘What a nice surprise! I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow at the earliest. But don’t just stand there, darling – come to bed?’

Then he was falling down a lift shaft, down and down into a pit of snakes. He tasted dread and panic like hot metal on his tongue, and smelled a sweet, familiar female scent.

He told himself he must be seeing, must be hearing things. But as he stood there staring at the person in the bed, he knew this was no vision from a nightmare.

‘Adam?’

As he tried to grope his way out of a fog of horror, he became aware that Cat was speaking, that her hand was on his arm.

‘Adam,’ she repeated, ‘who’s this woman?’

‘I’m his girlfriend,’ Maddy said. She yawned and stretched seductively. ‘I’m his fiancée, actually.’

‘You can’t be!’ Cat stared, shocked and horrified.

‘Oh, but I can,’ said Maddy. She smirked complacently. ‘Adam, darling, could you tell this person we’re engaged?’

‘We’re not engaged!’ cried Adam.

He turned to Cat and took her by the shoulders. ‘Cat, let me explain,’ he said. ‘Long before I met you, I asked Mads to marry me, but she turned me down. She went away, she left the country, she told me she was going—’

‘I’d better leave,’ said Cat, pulling away from him.

‘I’m coming, too,’ said Adam. ‘Mads, when I get back, I want you to have gone. By the way, who let you in?’

‘The fat girl who’s shacked up with Whatsisface.’

‘Where is Gwennie now?’

‘They’ve gone to see some friends. I didn’t catch their names. So anyway, I got myself some supper, had a shower, and then I came to bed.’

Maddy lay back against the heap of pillows, grinning like a vixen who had slaughtered a whole coop of chickens and meant to eat the lot.

‘Dear old Gwennie,’ she continued, looking at her nails, which Adam saw were long and painted red. ‘She was so pleased to see me. She gave me a big hug. She told me you’ve been absolutely miserable while I’ve been away.’

‘Maddy, that’s enough!’ snapped Adam.

‘Moping around the place, she said you’ve been, not eating properly and getting thinner every day. Jules has been quite worried. He thought you ought to go and see a doctor and get some medication, although of course he didn’t like to say. He knew you’d bite his head off.’

‘Mads, get up, get dressed and leave,’ said Adam. ‘Cat, could I come back to yours tonight?’

‘No, Adam, you could not.’ Cat’s expression was unreadable. ‘I think you should stay here, don’t you, and sort things out with Maddy?’

‘I can explain,’ cried Adam, as Cat turned on her heel and then went clattering down the stairs. ‘It’s not what it looks like!’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ muttered Cat. ‘It’s what you bastards always say.
It’s not what it looks like
. Or,
I can explain
. I can’t believe I almost fell for you.’

‘Cat, please listen!’ As she reached the hallway, Adam grabbed her arm and spun her round to face him. ‘I didn’t know Mads was coming home. I didn’t know she’d want to see me. I—’

‘So you do know her, then? She’s not a nutter who’s been turfed out of some bin? She’s not in the care of the community?’

‘No, she’s not a nutter.’

‘She said she’s your fiancée.’

‘I did ask her to marry me. But, as I explained, she turned me down.’

‘So you’re on the rebound and I’m a consolation prize – is that it?’

‘No!’ cried Adam, as he raked his fingers through his hair and tried to think, as he tried to put his words together so they’d make some sort of sense. ‘I don’t know what she’s doing here in London. She told me she was going to Uruguay.’

‘Why would she go to Uruguay? It looks to me as if she went to Topshop.’ As Cat glared at him, he could see her eyes were sparkling bright. If they had been a pair of lasers they’d have burned a hole in him. ‘You—you lied to me.’

‘I didn’t lie to you!’

‘Then you forgot to mention certain things, like you were still in a relationship, like you were living with a woman.’

‘Cat, it’s not like that – Mads and I split up before you and I met, I swear to God.’

‘Let’s leave God out of this, we don’t want him involved.’ Cat’s eyes grew hard as chips of Dartmoor granite. ‘Adam, in my admittedly non-professional opinion, you do need medication. You also need some psychiatric help.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You proposed to Maddy. You proposed to me. You’ve probably proposed to half a dozen other women, too. You said yourself you do proposals, plural. So you’re a serial proposer and you should see a shrink.’

‘I don’t need a bloody shrink!’ cried Adam desperately. ‘We can sort this whole thing out between us. It will take five minutes. If you’ll just hang on a moment, I’ll get Mads to tell you it’s all over between her and me.’

‘Get off me,’ Cat said coldly, trying to squirm out of Adam’s grasp. ‘Stop shouting, too. You’re going to wake your neighbours.’

‘Damn the neighbours! Maddy?’ shouted Adam. ‘Get down here this minute and help me to explain!’

‘I can’t, my love, I’m naked.’ Maddy’s voice came floating down the stairs like a carillon of silver bells. ‘Adam, are you coming up to bed?’

‘Cat, don’t leave!’ cried Adam desperately.

‘Oh, go and stuff yourself,’ snapped Cat. ‘Or go and stuff that woman in your bed. She’s obviously gagging for it.’

‘Cat, my darling, wait!’

‘Adam, don’t you
Cat, my darling
me!’ She slapped his hand away and, as he stood there helpless, willing her to believe him, she jerked the front door open.

She ran off up the road.

She hopped on to a bus which had appeared as if by magic and then she disappeared into the night.

Adam went back upstairs and glared at Maddy.

She was walking round his bedroom naked, grinning like a gargoyle and kicking clothes aside like someone paddling in a stream. ‘You took your time,’ she said. ‘Who was that common-looking trollop? Where did you pick her up?’

‘When did you get back from Uruguay?’

‘I didn’t go to Uruguay,’ said Maddy. ‘I flew to Mexico, and it was horrid. There were flies and dirt and filth and squalor everywhere. I went to work on an organic farm run by a couple from Seattle. It was full of beads-and-bangles hippies and soya-drinking vegans who were all backpacking around the world for free, or almost free.’