Read Year of Being Single Online
Authors: Fiona Collins
Imogen felt faint. ‘Go on,’ she said weakly.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘For months now Sarah’s been emailing, calling, asking me to hook up with her again. Pleading for another chance. Saying that she loves me.’ He grimaced. ‘She hardly knows me. I didn’t tell her I was coming to England, but she called the New York office and they told her. Then, God knows what she said to her, but Veronica told her I was going to be at Ascot.’
‘Who’s Veronica?’ asked Frankie.
‘Hot PA,’ muttered Imogen.
‘Do you think so?’ said Richard, looking surprised. ‘Not enough spark for me.’ He stared at Imogen. She stared right back at him.
‘
Please
go on,’ she said. She was beginning to feel the stirrings of real hope.
‘So, Sarah came to Ascot with her girlfriends. She got drunk. She found me and asked me to reconsider.’ He gave an apologetic smile. ‘I said no. I was very sorry, I didn’t want to hurt her, but
no
.’ He said the ‘no’ very firmly. ‘I hope that face-to-face she finally believed me.’
‘I think she did,’ Imogen said quietly, ‘I saw her crying as she came out of the box. Then Carolyn Boot emailed me to say you were in a relationship and had a child together.’
‘Right,’ said Richard coldly. ‘
Carolyn Boot
. So that’s who stirred all this up. God knows how she even knew Sarah had a child!’ He looked furious.
‘She said she saw the three of you in Central Park.’ Imogen was fiddling with the bow on her silk blouse. Did she dare believe him, dare expose her heart again?
‘Ah,’ Richard said, with a slow nod. ‘Now I get it. The Boot got the wrong end of the stick, as you Brits say.’ He sighed. ‘I hope Sarah’s okay. I tried to let her down gently… I swear to God, Imogen, what I’ve told you is the truth.’ He took her hand. She felt helpless with desire. ‘I’m single and I have been for a while.’
The pianist was now playing ‘Wonderwall’. Had Richard told him to do a whole 90s Britpop repertoire? Imogen looked over and spotted Nigel at a far table, tucking into a plate of food, his napkin stuffed into his collar.
Richard reached across and took her other hand.
‘Although I don’t want to be single.’ His beautiful eyes were locked onto hers. His eyebrows were perfect. His face was – heaven. ‘Oh God, I’m nervous as hell,’ he said, and he actually swallowed. Out of the corner of her eye, Imogen could see Grace’s ‘Aw’ face coming on and she halted it with a glare. ‘I want to be with you,’ he said.
Now she could speak.
‘I don’t know,’ stammered Imogen. ‘I don’t know if I can trust you. I don’t think I can believe in any man. I’m not sure I can do it.’
‘I can’t give you up.’
‘I don’t know, Richard.’
‘When have you ever been so uncertain, Imogen?’ His eyebrows knotted together and he actually looked tormented. His voice was strangled. ‘Never, I bet! Dammit, Imogen, will you just let me date you? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.’
‘She does look good tonight,’ interjected Frankie.
‘Shut up, Frankie!’ said Imogen. A smile was spreading across her face.
‘She really does,’ said Richard, catching her smile. ‘She’s the most crazy, infuriating, brilliant, perfect woman I’ve ever met.’ He was grinning and it was infectious. They were all grinning round the table. Marcia looked like the Cheshire cat. Tarquin’s tombstone teeth were studded with sesame seeds. His chair was tipping back at an alarming angle. Richard caught it and set it level.
‘Hang on,’ he then said. ‘I can do better than this.’
He levered one muscly arm on the table and lowered himself to the floor. ‘I’ve a funny feeling one day I’ll be doing this again,’ he muttered. He steadied himself on one knee and looked up at Imogen’s startled face. ‘Imogen, will you do me the honour of being my girlfriend? My one and
only
girlfriend. Exclusive, we call it where I’m from. Going steady?’ he said, with a wink.
‘Yes, yes,
going steady
. We do that here.’ It was Marcia. Richard didn’t take his gaze from Imogen.
‘You make me not want to return to my New York apartment. You make me not fussed about seeing The Mets play ever again.’ His whole face was lit up and his eyes were fixed on hers. ‘You make me want to live in a garret in Belsize Park and listen to Blur.’
Imogen smiled, her eyes filling with happy tears.
‘
Imogen
.’
‘
Yes
.’
‘I’m not going back to the States. I’ve been offered a permanent post here. I want to ask you for your hand in dating. No more secrets, no more lies. Proper dating, out in the open. What do you say?’ Imogen looked into that gorgeous face. He looked so serious. So earnest. So delicious. ‘Imogen Henderson, I love you, will you date me?’
Her heart soared. Her stomach somersaulted, did a couple of backflips and finished off with a do-si-do. Then she grinned. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Frankie?’
Frankie considered for a moment, her head on one side, then slurred, ‘Is he a loser, or do you think at any moment in time in the future, he could become a loser?’
‘He’s not a loser,’ said Imogen. ‘I’m pretty much sure he’s not a loser. As for being a loser in the future, I really don’t know. There’s no guarantee, is there?’
‘No,’ said Frankie. ‘I’ve a further confession. Rob moved back in last night.’
‘I’m happy for you,’ said Imogen.
‘Thanks,’ grinned Frankie. ‘So, take a chance.’
‘Grace? Be my voice of reason. This would be a mistake, right?’
‘I’m happy for you too, Frankie,’ said Grace. ‘And, by the law of probability, Imogen, they can’t
all
be bad,’ she added. ‘If you think this man is amazing, then go for it. I’ve been seeing a male escort by the way.’
‘What!’ shouted Imogen and Frankie in unison.
‘That’s your mystery man?’ said Frankie.
‘The guy at Ascot!’ said Imogen.
‘Oh God, is he
Michael
?’ said Frankie.
‘Who the hell’s Michael?’ said Imogen.
‘It’s a long story, but yes,’ said Grace. ‘He was all of those people. But he’s gone now. I’m single and I’m determined to be single for a long time. No more frying pans, no more fires… I’ll tell you later.’
‘I think you should go for it,’ trilled Marcia.
‘Me too,’ squeaked Tarquin.
There was a slight cough. ‘Do you have an answer for me?’ asked Richard. Imogen turned her gaze back to him. He was still on the floor. He looked worried and slightly pained.
‘Oh, sod it,’ said Imogen. She could
do
single with style. She was brilliant at it. But she chose this man. She chose not to be afraid. She took a really deep breath and looked into Richard’s eyes. ‘Yes, I do, Richard. I want to date you. I would
love
to date you… But you better make them bloody good dates.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Richard, with a wink. ‘I can do good dates.’
‘I love you,’ said Imogen. It was as simple as that. She loved him. She’d loved being single but she loved Richard more. ‘Now get up off that knee, you silly bugger, before you do yourself a permanent injury.’
They all stood in the lobby. Imogen and Richard were wrapped round each other. Frankie and Grace were giggling together and lolling against a pillar. And Marcia and Tarquin were attempting some kind of waltz around the lobby. Tarquin was wearing Marcia’s cape and prancing like a flamboyant Batman.
Imogen pulled her face out of Richard’s warm neck. ‘Can you give me a minute?’
She squeezed his hand, moved away from him with a smile and walked over to Frankie and Grace.
‘Group hug?’ she asked.
They circled their arms round each other and squeezed each other tight until they were laughing and hopping round in a mad circle.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t manage a year of being single,’ Imogen said, as they came to a stop. ‘But now you’ve seen what I was up against.’
‘He’s amazing,’ said Frankie. ‘Nor me. I couldn’t manage it either. But I know I’m doing the right thing.’
‘That just leaves me,’ said Grace. ‘And I reckon I can do it.’
‘Good for you, Gracie,’ said Imogen. ‘You carry that single flag with pride. And it
is
something to be really proud of.’
‘We’re going to be okay,’ said Frankie.
‘We are,’ said Grace.
‘We really are,’ said Imogen. And they circled their arms round each other again and grinned happily in each other’s faces.
Carina UK
An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by Carina UK in 2016
Copyright © Fiona Collins 2016
Fiona Collins asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental
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Ebook Edition © April 2016 ISBN: 9780008189891