A Year of Chasing Love Page 10

  ‘Cooking Porn’, Matteo called it.

  Her mind wandered to the flirty emails she had received from Niko in the weeks since she’d got back from Malta, asking whether she planned to return, suggesting a possible visit to London in August. Yes, they had a great deal in common, had connected in a way she hadn’t expected, and his vibrant company had pierced her desolation – his liberal scattering of tiny nuggets of affection had definitely caused a beginning thaw in her frozen emotions, delivering the hope that, one day, her battle scars would heal.

  She pulled her mobile from her bag now, and offered Hollie a chance to drool.

  ‘Wow, Liv, I’m surprised you came home! He’s George Clooney twenty years ago. Do you think you could introduce me to his brother, or his cousin, or maybe even his uncle? And he fulfils the criteria of No 3 and No 4 on your list for a long and happy marriage! Drive us over to Gatwick now, Matt!’

  ‘Don’t talk to me about that stupid list!’ grumbled Matteo, leaning back into his seat and crossing his ankle over his thigh. ‘Liv, you have no idea what you and Rachel have created here! From the way Hollie’s been going on – and Pippa, and Harriet, and Jodie, and everyone else who’s been reading your bulletins of balderdash – it’s as if you’re writing the definitive tome on relationship nirvana!’

  Olivia laughed at the belligerent expression on Matteo’s face and decided that attack was the best form of defence.

  ‘No date tonight, Matteo? What’s happened? Run out of willing participants?’

  ‘Funny lady. As it happens, I’m meeting someone in here later on. It’ll be our third date, so you might say we’re going steady!’

  Olivia heard the hint of sarcasm in Matteo’s voice as he ostentatiously picked a speck of cotton from his shirt cuff. She took in his polished good looks, the black Armani jeans, the hand-sewn Italian-leather loafers, the pink gingham shirt, immaculately laundered and open at the neck to reveal a tuft of mahogany hair. His skin glowed from the Clarins facial he’d indulged in that Saturday afternoon, and a whiff of his favourite spice-infused aftershave drifted in the air between them. Clearly his Italian heritage had blessed him with a genetic predisposition for effortless elegance and sartorial style, and next to him she felt a little dishevelled.

  ‘Well, Niko certainly is movie-star handsome, Liv, but you’re right, it’s not the ideal time to start a new relationship – and he does live a three-hour flight away. Sadly.’

  Hollie reluctantly handed Olivia’s mobile back to her, curling her lower lip in regret before resettling herself on the sofa and raising her eyebrows in Matteo’s direction, sending him a silent signal that caused Olivia’s caution radar to start squealing.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked, swinging her head from one friend to the other.

  ‘Well …’

  ‘Come on. You two have been exchanging meaningful glances all night.’

  ‘It’s probably just vindictive gossip, bearing in mind the source is Ralph Carlton.’

  ‘Oh God, something tells me I’m not going to like this. Come on, just get it over with.’

  Just as she did every time the anxiety demons circled, Olivia reached up to select a coil of hair to twist between her fingers, her eyes fixed on Hollie, trying to read her expression for a clue as to what she was about to reveal.

  ‘I bumped into Ralph at court yesterday, schmoozing with one of his wealthy clients. He joyfully regaled me with fairy stories about Miles undergoing a complete personality transplant over the last six weeks. He couldn’t wait to declare his delight that, at last, Edwards & Co has “seen the light” in the way they conduct their matrimonial cases.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means that Miles has morphed from pampered poodle into rampant rottweiler and has ditched the softly-softly approach to divorce. Apparently, his correspondence is abrasive and threatening and he’s taken to issuing proceedings without any prior negotiation or mediation.’

  ‘Oh, the devious little—’

  ‘Hang on,’ interrupted Matteo, placing his hand on her arm.

  ‘What? There’s more?’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Liv, he’s been bad-mouthing you, too. He’s been preaching to anyone who’ll listen that the way you practise is a sign of a weak negotiator, and that, in your enforced absence, Edwards & Co is now a firm to be reckoned with.’

  ‘Oh my God, this is exactly what I thought would happen.’ Olivia reached down to grab her mobile from her bag, her heart pounding as her trembling fingers mishit the screen. ‘I’m calling Henry. He has to let me come back now! I’ve spent ten years building our reputation and it’s taken Moronic Miles just a few weeks to destroy it!’

  Matteo gently removed the phone from Olivia’s hand, his forehead creased with concern.

  ‘Unlike Hollie, I only know Miles from the golf club where Dan gave us some coaching over the winter. What I do know is that those with a mediocrity of talent – and I’ve no doubt you could squeeze Miles’s natural attributes into a thimble – often possess a well-honed skill and a vindictive penchant for belittling the achievements of others. However, we can’t overlook the fact that it was Ralph Carlton who said these things.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Firstly, we have no evidence that Ralph was telling the truth – he’s an arrogant piss-taker at the best of times, and he loves conflict and stirring up bad karma. It’s just malicious prodding, Liv, and Hollie promises to check out the truth with James first thing on Monday morning, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, absolutely!’

  ‘And secondly, if you’re still not convinced, it’s Saturday night. You know Henry and Jean have dined with their friends at the tennis club every Saturday night for the last twenty years and he wouldn’t thank you for interrupting that tradition with a call about work. Anyway, Miles can’t have done that much damage over six weeks, can he?’

  Matteo’s attempt to reassure Olivia provided scant comfort, but she shook her head.

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Great, because your break from the grindstone seems to have done you the world of good. There’s a glow in your cheeks and a little more flesh on those bones, but even so, you’re still working that “haunted ghost” look, which will only give credence to the rumours Miles is spreading about you personally.’

  ‘About me personally? What about me personally?’

  ‘Ahhhh. Ooops.’

  Now it was Hollie’s turn to roll her eyes at Matteo before leaning forward to lace her fingers through Olivia’s and meet her gaze.

  ‘Now don’t go ballistic, but Ralph also hinted that Miles is telling Edwards & Co clients that you had a sort of breakdown after being served with your divorce papers, and that you’ve gone off “to search for the meaning of life”.’

  ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God!’ she gasped, struggling to speak because her breath had suddenly been whipped from her lungs as she tried and failed to douse her rising anger. ‘Wait until I get my hands on that scrawny little—’

  ‘Hi! I hope I’m not late. Matteo?’

  A young woman, with hair the colour of dark espresso, had materialised at their table, flicking her enhanced sapphire eyes from Hollie to Olivia before resting her gaze on Matteo with a question that clearly asked why there were two other girls on their date.

  ‘Hi, Jess. Meet Olivia and Hollie, my two BFFs. Girls, this is the super-gorgeous Jessica Simmons. Isn’t she delicious?’ Matteo leapt from the couch to sling his arm around Jessica’s slender frame.

  Good grief, I’d hate to be labelled ‘delicious’, thought Olivia shooting Jessica a sympathetic grimace.

  However, Jessica ignored Olivia’s attempt at friendship and simply tossed her locks over her shoulder in a practised gesture, then hooked her carefully bronzed arm through Matteo’s, and gifted the two seated women with a possessive glare, her heavily kohled eyes narrowing in a blatant warning to back off from her guy.

  Olivia suddenly understood why Matteo never got beyond the first few dates if thi
s was the type of jealousy he attracted. Nevertheless, she rose from the sofa to air-kiss Matteo’s new girlfriend, whilst Hollie remained seated and just nodded a welcome. Olivia was also anxious to continue with their conversation about the rat-bag that was Miles Morrison, but Jessica’s presence had usurped her command of her audience.

  ‘Didn’t you say we had a table booked for eight o’clock at Pierre’s, Matteo sweetheart?’

  ‘Yes, but I was just …’

  ‘Well, it’s seven forty-five and it’ll take us a good twenty minutes to get there. We don’t want to lose our booking, do we?’

  Jessica placed her bejewelled hand on her hip, her lips forming a perfect pout and her demeanour signalling to anyone watching that she couldn’t wait to get out of there and have Matteo all to herself. When Olivia had arrived at the wine bar, Matteo had told her that he had pulled in a couple of favours with a friend who was the sommelier at Pierre’s to get a reservation at the hottest restaurant in town in return for a discount on their wine order, so it wouldn’t be polite to be fashionably late.

  With an apologetic smile on his face, Matteo shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his silk-lined jacket, bending forward to deposit noisy farewell kisses on their cheeks.

  ‘Bye, girls. Be good. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

  ‘Gives us lots of scope,’ muttered Hollie.

  Olivia stared after them as they drifted towards the door, stopping occasionally for Matteo to exchange a few words with other regulars in the wine bar, much to Jessica’s annoyance as she waited, clutching on to his arm as if she expected him to do a runner. However, Olivia had more pressing things on her mind than Matteo’s love life.

  ‘Hollie, I can’t just sit back and let Miles trash my reputation. It’s taken me years to build up my practice and get the message out about our approach to litigation.’

  ‘Look, Liv, you should try to put it out of your mind. Why don’t you come down to Surrey and watch me play in the Ladies’ County Golf Competition tomorrow? My trip down to Royal Birkdale last month has reinvigorated my ambition to win another trophy for the cabinet. Dan says that if I put my mind to it, I might be in with a chance of qualifying for the Ladies’ Amateur Open next year!’

  ‘That sounds great, Hollie, but no thanks.’

  ‘What about next weekend? Can I tempt you with a train journey down to see my parents in Cornwall for Elliot’s farewell dinner at the restaurant before he jets off to Singapore?’

  ‘Can I take a rain check?’

  ‘If it’s really bothering you that much, why don’t you wait until tomorrow and talk to Kat about Miles at the barbecue?’

  ‘Yes, I think I will. But if that toad—’

  ‘Hi! Great to see you, Olivia.’

  Good grief, not another interruption, thought Olivia, but she knew that’s what happened when you were practically a fixture at the local wine bar. However, when she turned her head, she was relieved to see that the dulcet tones belonged to Grace, Hollie’s ever-cheerful flatmate, who was leaning forward to envelop her in a warm hug.

  ‘Sorry to hear about you and Nathan. I thought if any couple could make it to their golden wedding anniversary, it would be you two.’

  ‘Thanks, Grace,’ muttered Olivia, swallowing down on a sudden surge of emotion as she saw the genuine sadness in her friend’s piercing blue eyes.

  Olivia knew that raven-haired Grace, a set designer at the Theatre Royal, adored Nathan. She was thrilled by his keen interest in her work, evidenced by his life-long love of all things theatre, and was a willing plus-one whenever Olivia had cried off due to work commitments and Hollie, Nathan’s usual ‘first-reserve’, was away playing her clarinet in a concert. She had to smile when she recalled Nathan’s delight the previous November when, after being stood up once again, Grace had wangled it for him to have a guided tour backstage, and he had even met a few of the cast members.

  ‘Look, it’s my night off – and heaven knows I owe you for all those tickets Nathan has shared with me over the last few years. Why don’t I treat us all to dinner? Oh, that’s if you’re not waiting for dates?’

  ‘Well, my dinner date tonight is with the “delicious” Prince Pepperoni from the Principality of Pizza Hut,’ announced Hollie, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. ‘If either of you fancy double-dating with the Duke of Dominos or the Count of Carluccio, I’d be happy for you to tag along?’

  Olivia caught Hollie’s eye and her brief dalliance with melancholy was replaced by an unexpected fit of giggles. Through the ensuing laughter another item for her lengthening list of lessons in love appeared fully formed.

  Olivia Hamilton’s Lessons in Love: No 6. “In order to have a long-lasting relationship, you have to first of all find a date!”

  Chapter 10

  The following day, clutching a bottle of champagne, Olivia gingerly navigated the paraphernalia of modern toddlerhood that was scattered along the path leading to the sunflower-yellow front door of Katrina and Will’s renovated Victorian terrace house. As she waited for the door to open, she took in the discarded prams, naked Barbies, bikes, wheelbarrows and variously shaped balls – the place looked like a battleground of heroically fallen toys. She drew in a deep breath and savoured her last moments of calm in the tiny oasis of the front garden before the onslaught of noise and boisterous banter that invariably engulfed any visitor to the Windwood household.

  A faint tinkle of music, punctuated by high-pitched screams, informed her that the Saturday afternoon barbecue was already in full swing, and when a waft of smoke, mingled with the aroma of charcoaled meat, floated on the early May breeze to her waiting nostrils, her stomach growled in complaint at the lack of breakfast.

  Looking down at her attire she felt slightly ridiculous jiggling on the doormat in her stilettos and neat scarlet shift dress. Why hadn’t she chosen something more practical for a garden party colonised by excited toddlers? She hugged the bottle of chilled Moët to her chest as she continued to wait on the Welcome doormat, wondering if she should spin round and head for the hills. After few seconds of serious deliberation, she decided that Katrina would be disappointed if she didn’t show her face and jabbed again on the doorbell, letting it buzz until she heard a loud shriek from behind the door, accompanied by a low reassuring tone belonging to Will.

  ‘Yay! Auntie Livvie! Auntie Livvie! Auntie Livvie!’

  Katrina’s eldest daughter flung her whole body at Olivia. The little girl, in full-on ‘Disney-Princess-and-tiara’ mode, wrapped her slender arms around Olivia’s waist and rested her cheek on her abdomen whilst Olivia stroked her hair, an identical shade to Katrina’s. In fact, Olivia was prepared to bet her pension on this mini-person developing into a carbon copy of Katrina.

  ‘Hi, Ruby, it’s great to see you. I love your dress! Which Princess are you today?’

  Ruby stared at Olivia as if she had just landed from Planet Mars. ‘I’m Elsa, of course!’

  Will laughed at his daughter’s indignation, his moss-green eyes crinkling at the corners.

  ‘You can let go of Aunt Olivia now, Rubes. Great to see you, Liv. Come through, I’ll get you a drink.’

  Will leaned forward to deposit a kiss on Olivia’s cheek before she was unceremoniously dragged by the hand down the hallway, through the light and airy kitchen that was currently strewn with culinary chaos, and out to the rear garden where a brand-new trampoline presided over the proceedings.

  ‘Yay, Auntie Livvie, Auntie Livvie! Come on the trampoline with us,’ cried Imogen, Katrina and Will’s four-year-old, the blonde curls inherited from her father bouncing into the air like a mad mini-Medusa.

  ‘I’ll join you later, Immie. Just need to say hello to your mum.’

  Beyond the rectangle of lawn, this little oasis in the suburbs that Katrina called home was ablaze with spring colour, the teal-and-cream summerhouse had been festooned with home-made bunting and balloons, and the place was packed with the Windwood family’s guests. As Katrina and Will had been
together since university, and had then produced three children in quick succession, their circle of friends had blossomed to include not only their respective families but colleagues, neighbours and the parents of their children’s friends from the local primary school.

  Unaccustomed to the cacophonous turmoil of family life, the high-pitched chatter scratched at Olivia’s delicate senses. Of course, the fuzzy feeling in her brain could also have something to do with the amount of prosecco she had consumed with Hollie and Matteo the previous evening. She reached out to steady herself on a garden bench, painted blue-grey to match the shed, to gather her strength and survey the gathering. Every guest seemed to be part of a pair or the dual nucleus of a family unit around which their offspring circulated like satellites. Olivia suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable, abandoned to the periphery of the happy throng and an unexpected stab of loneliness invaded her chest.

  ‘Liv! I didn’t know you’d arrived. Here, take this.’

  The Welsh lilt of Katrina’s familiar voice broke through Olivia’s tumbling contemplations, but despite engaging tremendous effort, she was unable to hide her discomfort from her friend. She accepted the proffered crystal flute with a grateful smile and took a sip.

  ‘Thanks, Kat, I needed that. Great turnout!’

  ‘I think it’s because the sun’s decided to grace us with its presence at last! I have no idea what we would have done if it had rained. The house is a mess, and now we’ve got to find room for another new arrival!’

  Katrina’s eyes sparkled with happiness and Olivia’s heart skipped a beat before ballooning with delight as she drew her friend and colleague into a warm embrace, tears smarting at the corners of her eyes.