A Hopeless Romantic Part 30

"Yes," said Yorky, more noncommittally.

"So," Laura said weakly. "Tell us all about it then...." She loved her brother, and she really did want to know how he'd got on, but Laura was generally bored rigid by tales of other people's holidays, especially of the four-month traveling variety.

"Try to contain your indifference a bit more successfully, sis," Simon said, leaning back in the sofa and sighing a deep sigh of pleasure. "Well, it was great. But it's really nice to be back now, I must say. I really wanted to see you all. I've got a lot to tell you."

"Oh, great," Laura said. "Highlights?"

Yorky nudged her. Simon smiled. "Highlights. Okay. Being attacked by a wolf. Nearly getting shot during a drug raid. Um-the mountains early in the morning. And dancing round a campfire with the girl of my dreams."

"Oh!" said Angela. "How lovely!"

"Eh?" said Yorky. "Who's that, mate?" He looked curious.

"Jorgia," Simon said, an expression of great serenity creeping across his tanned face. He turned to his parents and opened his arms wide. "I'm in love, Mum and Dad. She's the most wonderful girl, and I can't wait to bring her home to meet you."

"Are you being serious?" said Angela, whipping her head round. "Who is she, Simon darling?"

"Oh, Mum," said Simon, taking his mother's hand again. "She's just amazing. She's from a tiny village, high up in the mountains near Machu Picchu. She-she-well, I want you to meet her."

"Right!" said Angela, smiling slightly mechanically. "My goodness. Ha! She sounds wonderful." She winked significantly at her husband. "Doesn't she, George?"

"Er..." said George, twirling his winegla.s.s in his hand. "Great. Really great. So, what does she do?"

"She lives with her parents at the moment," Simon said, smiling broadly at them. "Her father's a doctor, in the village! Simeon Questodora. Jorgia is his only daughter, he has two sons. He's a good man, a wise man. He has welcomed me into their family." Simon nodded, half bowing, as if Dr. Questodora might be watching him via a secret camera hidden in the vase of dried flowers on the mantelpiece. "Anyway," he went on, "I'm going back there, Mum and Dad. I want to live there." He coughed as his parents gawped at him. "I want to marry her. Not now-I know it's all very sudden. I want to see if we can have a future together, the two of us, and how we can make it work."

"Eh?" said Yorky.

"It may not work," said Simon. "I'm fully aware of that." He cleared his throat again and said quietly, "But I've never been happier. You know me. I didn't used to believe in fairy tales. Well, now I do."

Sitting on the sofa, Laura could barely believe her ears. Yes, of course, this was happy news; but Simon was the man who had s.h.a.gged identical twins at university (Yorky had told her this), who had had an affair with his boss for a year and managed not to get fired, but promoted. Simon was kind, he was charming, always honest-but he had never wanted a serious relationship. This was incredible!

Besides which, setting aside Simon's historic aversion to falling in love, she thought, surely if you claim you're about to marry some random Peruvian villager you've known for three minutes, you must have gone mad. You shouldn't be talking about it in a mature, balanced way. She could see that this was affecting their parents deeply, and that instead of saying, "My G.o.d, have you gone completely mad," they were instead likely to-yes, there it was- "Congratulations, son," said George, striding across the room, clutching Simon's hand. "That sounds-er, wonderful."

"Oh, Simon," said Angela, tears in her eyes. "You're sure? Well, that's just, just lovely."

"I am sure," said Simon, standing up and putting his arm round his mother, as Laura watched in amazement, scowling at both of them. "I'm sure she's the one for me. I love her. But we have to think about what to do next. Jorgia-she..." He looked down and blushed, then smiled shyly at them. Laura felt slightly nauseated. "She wants to come over to meet you all, as soon as possible, but she is very proud. She won't let me pay. She is saving up herself for the flight."

"How long will that take?" said Laura waspishly. Yorky gave her a sharp look.

"A few months at least. She is very proud, like her father, like her family. So-until then"-he ground to a halt, rather uncertainly-"I'll be here, if that's okay. You see, you see-I've handed in my notice at the charity."

"Oh," said Angela and George together. Angela reached out and clutched the enamel box that stood on the mantelpiece for support. "That's great, dear," she said faintly, and looked at her husband.

"They wanted me to go to India next month, and I can't, if she's coming here. I had to say no, and when I did, well..." He held up his hands, rather helplessly. "I know it's a bit reckless-but it just seemed like the only thing to do. I couldn't let her get away, you know."

Reckless? Laura wanted to shout. I should say so! Jeez Louise, the world has gone mad!

Her father said, "Well. You had worked there for five years, it was probably time for a change, eh?"

"I'm pleased for you," said Yorky, nodding wildly.

"Yes," said Angela. "Well! Travel really does broaden the mind, doesn't it!"

"So, Laura, what do you think?" Simon said, sitting down next to her and putting his hand on her shoulder.

Good grief, thought Laura. The world has gone mad. Here am I being a sensible person, and what reward do I get? Whereas Simon has clearly got some brain disease, causing him to lose all grip on reality. No job! No home! A girlfriend halfway up a mountain on the other side of the world! And this is good news?

Simon was looking at her expectantly, and she found it hard to breathe all of a sudden, though she couldn't have said why. And she felt a bit sick. Well, she reasoned, it was a lot to take in, for anyone. She gripped his wrist with her hand, and said, "It's fantastic, Simon. Great. I just hope-you know, it's a big step."

"For f.u.c.k's sake!" Laura ranted to Yorky, when they were safely on the Tube heading back. "He's gone completely mad, and I'm the one they think's the bad guy! Jesus!"

Yorky said nothing. He looked up at the Tube map.

"Seriously!" said Laura, warming to her theme. "The hypocrisy! b.l.o.o.d.y Simon! He misses Gran's birthday, he's lost his job, he waltzes in after months away and announces he's shacked up with some Peruvian gypsy from the mountains, and Mum and Dad! G.o.d! They just smile and say, 'Wow, that's great!'"

"But it is great, isn't it?" said Yorky.

"No!" cried Laura. "Well, yes," she said, amending herself hurriedly. "Of course, it's fine, whatever. But really, has he lost his mind? He can't be in love with her, can he?"

Yorky looked at her, then turned away slowly. "Oh, just shut up, will you?"

Laura gaped at him. "What?"

"Yes!" Yorky said, and there was real disdain in his voice, disdain mixed with anger. "Just shut up! What's happened to you, Laura! I know you're on this No Romance kick, ever since Dan, and I know you hate men, and I know all of a sudden your job's the most important thing to you since-since sliced bread, but, G.o.d! Sometimes..." He trailed off.

Laura was completely bewildered. "Sometimes what?" she said, trying to make sense of what Yorky was talking about. She'd never seen him quite this cross.

"You're-you're just so-so weird about everything these days!" Yorky said. "G.o.d, you've been like this ever since you came back from Norfolk."

"What do you mean?" said Laura, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Well!" Yorky threw his hands in the air. "I thought it did you good, but you've changed, Laura, you're just..." He shook his head, bewildered. "You sit there in front of the TV and you don't concentrate, you're in a world of your own. You work all the time. You don't go out anymore. You're really negative about everything, you don't want to do anything. You won't look at another bloke-every time me or Jo mentions some guy you might like, you look as if we've just thrown up over you." Yorky twitched his nose and scratched it. "Look, mate. I know Dan hurt you, but what did he do to make you this f.u.c.ked up about everything?" he said sadly. "Here's your brother, okay, yeah, sure, he's gone a bit mad, and he thinks he's in love with some girl he met traveling. But you're his sister! Just support him, okay? Don't be snide, don't think you know it all. You don't."

"I know I don't," Laura whispered. "I know."

Yorky looked horrified. "Listen, I didn't mean-"

Laura said, "It's fine. You're completely right, I'm sure."

chapter thirty-seven.

T he Simon situation rankled Laura, though she didn't understand why. Over the next week, she kept thinking about what Yorky had said on the way back from Harrow. Sometimes she thought he was mad, totally out of order, and she would feel a calm within herself that she-was-right-he-was-wrong, and no action was required on her part. And sometimes, the peeling away of that layer beneath which lay all her insecurity made her numb with fear.

Perhaps Yorky had a point about not going out enough, though. She had been a bit of a hermit since she'd got back. And she should be trying to meet someone else, she knew. But where was she supposed to meet someone, even if she wanted to, which she didn't? Laura started thinking, How did I used to do it? Fall in love like that at the drop of a hat? How did I used to meet men so easily, so happily, be so relaxed about it all? It seemed completely alien to her now.

Still, she hated not having things right with Yorky, just hated it. The following Sat.u.r.day evening, she was in on her own when her flatmate returned from an afternoon out with Becky, walking along the ca.n.a.l by Regent's Park. He was mysteriously silent on the subject, which Laura a.s.sumed meant nothing had happened; instead he suggested a "casual" dinner the following Sat.u.r.day to welcome Simon back. Laura knew this was in reality a chance for Yorky to drop round and ask Becky if she wanted to swing by for supper (nothing special, just a few friends coming over, no pressure). She was glad, because it meant things were okay again, so she sounded enthusiastic about it, and waited for Yorky to talk about Becky for the next ten minutes. But he didn't. Again, this was strange.

"I'll cook," said Laura as she opened a bottle of wine.

"No, I'll cook," said Yorky firmly. "You call Simon, get him to come. And Jo and Chris are back next week, can you text her on her mobile, get them along?"

"Fine," said Laura, conceding defeat happily. "That'll be great. Have some wine."

"Love some," said Yorky. "You in tonight, then?"

"Yep," said Laura firmly. "Just a quiet one."

"Great," said Yorky. "Me too. Let's drink lots and tell each other sad stories of the sea."

"Er...okay," said Laura. "How's it going with the girl downstairs, then?"

"Great," said Yorky, nodding. "It's early days, you know. But-she's just fantastic. That's all there is to it." He shrugged, and simply smiled at her.

Laura felt panic shoot through her, and she didn't know why.

"Come on, Yorks," she said, struggling to find the joke in it. "Haven't you got some funny story about it to tell me?"

"Not really," said Yorky. He yawned, stretched his lanky body, and reached up to get two gla.s.ses out of the cupboard. "We had a good chat yesterday, you know. We're going to take it slowly. But-it's just going really well. That's all."

Laura watched him, amazed. "That's...great," she said, hating herself for not thinking it was great. "Wow. I'm really pleased."

At eight-thirty the next morning, Laura was-like most right-minded people at eight-thirty on a Sunday-fast asleep. But gradually she stirred, for something was ringing in her ear; it kept on ringing. It would stop, and then start again. It took a good few minutes before she realized that the sound was the phone in the hallway, ringing, then stopping when the answering machine kicked in, then ringing again.

"Shut up!" Yorky croaked from his room down the corridor.

Knowing that Yorky would happily ignore the phone while it rang for a good few hours yet, Laura fell out of bed, cursing, and shuffled down the corridor.

"Hallagh," she growled into the receiver.

"Laura? h.e.l.lo, dear. It's Annabel," came a voice down the phone, disconcertingly close by. "How are you, dear?"

"Er..." Laura coughed. "I'm fine. Are you-is everything okay?"

"Yes, of course," said Aunt Annabel, sounding astonished. "I rang to say h.e.l.lo. So-how are you, dear?"

Waking up more and more by the second, Laura shook her head and ran her free hand through her hair. "Yes, well, like I said. I'm fine. It's-it's a bit early for me, though. How are you?"

"Well, I'm fine, too," said Aunt Annabel. "Really very fine."

There was a rather tense silence for a few seconds. Laura waited for her aunt to speak, because she wasn't really sure what to say next.

"So, Laura. Have you seen the paper today?" said Aunt Annabel.

Laura wanted to yell, "It's eight-thirty in the morning, of course I haven't seen the paper today. Go away!" but instead she said, "No, why?"

"I think you should," said Aunt Annabel. "I was really ringing to say h.e.l.lo, of course. But I did just want to check you'd got a copy!" She cleared her throat, and said almost reverentially, "To see him in it. Number three, no less! My goodness."

"In what?" Laura asked, her mind beginning to whir.

"Britain's Most Eligible Bachelors," said Aunt Annabel. "You know who, dear!"

Annabel had never called her "dear" before, nor rung her at home before, nor indeed ever expressed much interest in any aspect of Laura's life before, and it was this that struck Laura first, before the mist cleared and she realized what her aunt was talking about. "Oh," she whispered, clutching the receiver with both hands. She leaned against the wall. "What is it?" she said, trying to keep her voice normal. "Nick?"

"Well, I think you should read it for yourself!" her aunt said gaily. "But we knew you'd want to see it, so we thought we'd better let you know."

"Right," said Laura, wondering who "we" was.

"I'm sure everyone else will be calling to say they've seen it, too, but it's quite something to say you're an item with the Marquis of Ranelagh, especially after this!" Annabel said in tones of delight. "And you were so mysterious about him in Norfolk, I didn't even say goodbye to you. Lulu and Fran were so sorry to have missed you, you know. So sorry!"

"Me too," said Laura, crossing her fingers. "How are they?"

"Good, fine, wonderful. Fran and Ludo are in Singapore at the moment! Having a wonderful time, back in a few days' time. And Lulu's in the south of France. It's just little old me and your uncle Robert, you know. On our own! Very lonely! So when your uncle saw the article this morning, he said, 'Annabel, you must call Laura.' And I thought, Gosh, yes, I must."

Since Uncle Robert was notorious for saying nothing and contributing nothing, Laura found quite a lot wrong with this a.s.sertion. But she merely replied, "Thanks, Aunt Annabel. Look, I'd better-"

"Yes, yes," said Annabel. "I'll let you go-you know, it's marvelous. That's all. And, Laura-do hope to see you soon. Both of you, maybe?" she said coyly.

"Both?"

"Well," said Annabel, "you...and the marquis, of course."

"Aunt Annabel," said Laura. "Really, there's nothing going on with me and Nick."

"Oh, really?"

"Really," Laura said firmly. She forced herself to sound blithely unconcerned. "In fact, I'm sure he's forgotten all about me. It was just a fling, seriously. I'm afraid if you're thinking we're an item..."

"Oh, no!" said Annabel, backtracking hastily. "Actually, it says, you know. In the article. It says he's got a girlfriend."

Laura's knees turned to water; she swayed against the right-minded. "Oh," she said. "Right, then."

"I just thought that was probably rubbish, you know these newspapers," said Annabel, blissfully unconscious of any irony. "And he did seem awfully-keen on you, you know...."

"Annabel!" came a voice gruffly in the background. "Any more tea?"

"Oh, there's Robert," Annabel called gaily. "Must go. Lovely to chat, Laura!"

"What?" said Laura, then hastily: "Of course, thanks, Aunt Annabel, sorry I'm not really awake...."

"Please, don't worry! Goodbye!" Annabel said, and the line went dead suddenly.

Laura shook her head, confused, and then she went into her room and pulled on some clothes. Was she going to buy the newspaper? Of course she was.