Magic Sometimes Happens Part 14

'I was thinking I could get a cab.'

'I'll pick you up about half six to seven tomorrow evening. We can get a coffee and a sandwich at the airport. You have a great day.'

'Patrick, wait, I've changed my mind, I-'

But he had already disconnected.

I moped around the place all day, trying to work and mostly failing, sending emails, ringing f.a.n.n.y for advice, fiddling with my website and my blog and drinking pints of coffee.

I was almost on the ceiling by the evening. I didn't sleep at all that night, and I did my packing Friday morning in a coffeeholic haze. I don't remember getting in Pat's Honda or driving to the airport. I only knew I was with him, that's all, experiencing him.

We stood there at the barrier.

'It's been great to know you, Rosie Denham.'

He offered me his hand.

I almost took it. But then I decided it couldn't end like this. I had to taste him, feel him know if he was warm or cold and if his mouth was hard or soft. If I didn't grab this opportunity, I knew I would regret it all my life. So I took him by the shoulders, pulled him close to me and then I kissed him.

He didn't pull away from me. But that was probably because he couldn't quite believe what I was doing, that I'd grabbed him in a public place and started snogging him.

They called my flight.

He took no notice. He wrapped his arms around me and he kissed me. Almost hesitatingly at first, but very soon his kisses grew fierce and hard and hungry. I forgot the time, the place, for at that moment nothing else existed. The world was made of him.

They called my flight again.

I let him go. Stepping back a pace or two, I ran my fingers through my messed-up hair. Patrick Riley looked at me. What would he say now, if anything? I couldn't tell what he was thinking, could not read the expression in his eyes.

But that's the thing about brown eyes, of course. They don't give much away. My own are grey, transparent. So, when I was little, my mother always knew when I was fibbing. But I bet his mother never knew.

'You need to go.' He pushed his hand into his pocket, found a card and handed it to me. 'Let me know you got home safe?'

'I shall.'

I wasn't going to say goodbye. My lips still smarting from his kisses, I walked through the barrier and went to catch my plane.

A married man, a father of small children whatever was I thinking? But I couldn't regret what I had done. As I stood in the queue to board, I looked at Patrick's card plain black and white, no colours, frills or furbelows, but with all the details I would need to contact him again. It was the most precious thing I owned a holy relic, a magic talisman.

Let me know you got home safe, he'd said.

I remembered reading somewhere that there was no reason emails couldn't be the perfect conduits of the soul and spirit, as effective and direct as any written letters.

They were personal communications, after all.

FROM: Rosie Denham SUBJECT: Back in the UK TO: Patrick M Riley SENT: 29 September 18.47 Hi Pat I'm home again.

Many thanks for looking after me while Tess and Ben were out of town and for taking me to catch my flight.

You were very kind.

All best wishes Rosie X FROM: Patrick M Riley SUBJECT: Happy Landing TO: Rosie Denham SENT: September 30 16.26 Hi Rosie Good to hear you made it.

Pat That was all he said. How could he be so curt and so dismissive? Those kisses, had they meant precisely nothing? Yes, you idiot, I told myself, that's exactly what those kisses meant precisely nothing!

So now sort out your life.

October.

PATRICK.

I couldn't work. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep.

I took long walks downtown and sat in cafes daydreaming and trying to figure out what I was doing. Why was I behaving like a teenager? What was wrong with me? I never felt so happy, sad, upset, exhilarated or confused in all my life.

Everyone at JQA knew Lex was fooling round with Mr Wonderful and that the British b.a.s.t.a.r.d had my kids because I hadn't put up any fight when Lexie told me she was leaving and taking Joe and Polly.

She shared the details of her new relationship and posted pictures of her Limey lover on her Facebook page. I clicked through half a dozen photographs. I saw the British guy was just a guy no horns, no fangs, no obvious tail brown hair, medium build and height, blue eyes and dreadful British teeth.

Then I unfriended Lex and all our mutual friends as well because I didn't need to know them any more.

'Professor Riley, I'm so sorry about you and Mrs Riley.'

'Pat, Melissa's fixing pot roast Thursday. Why don't you come by and join the party?'

'Patrick, if you're ever in our neighbourhood, George and I would love to have you visit with us. Please come by for brunch one Sat.u.r.day?'

'Dr Riley, may I get you anything a Danish or a doughnut?'

So they p.u.s.s.yfooted round me, trying to be nice and not to startle me or worry me, I guess, and it was kindly meant.

Julianne, my fifty-something secretary, or whatever I'm supposed to call her nowadays aide, facilitator, PA, guard dog, she's all of those and more, she guards me like a dragon guards its h.o.a.rd brought me cream cheese bagels, salt beef sandwiches, crackers that she made herself.

'You need to eat,' she told me as she brushed some streaks of chalk dust off my sleeve and fussed like Henny Penny.

'Caroline and I, we're always having family on weekends,' said the dean. 'If you ever feel like joining us, we'll make you very welcome. If you got your kids, bring them along. As you know, our Rusty's great with children very playful.'

Yeah, last time I saw that dog, he played with me so hard he almost took my fingers off. I wouldn't trust him within half a mile of Joe and Polly.

ROSIE.

I had to forget I'd ever met him.

I also had to rent some office s.p.a.ce and build a client list. I had to get my business booming, which in a stop-go recession promised to be challenging.

It took me quite a while to find some office premises. I'd begun to wonder if I'd have to work from home, a shabby rented flat in a not-very-pretty part of Paddington. But then I found a tiny place in Camden, more or less convenient for town, but where it would be possible to park. That's if you were lucky and aggressive and could squeeze into the smallest s.p.a.ce.

I needed parking. My Fiesta doubled as my handbag. Pat had been embarra.s.sed by the mess inside his Honda. So, I thought, he'd probably have a heart attack if he could see my clutter-wagon, full of files and plastic bags and samples, sandwich boxes with half-eaten wraps rotting inside and empty coffee cups. The squealing noise I noticed when I braked maybe I had rats? Pat's SUV had squealed a bit, as well ...

But I mustn't think about Pat Riley. He had been a blip a wild, insane infatuation at a time when I was at my lowest and my most vulnerable. Now I had to get my life on track. Charlie would have hated to see me moping, pining, chasing after married men. I knew I had to start to live again.

I bought some office furniture. I got myself connected. I ordered business cards and stationery. Then I went to see my former boss at her palatial office in a Georgian house near Marble Arch.

'Darling, it's so wonderful to have you back in Blighty!' f.a.n.n.y Gregory embraced me in a scented, lace-and-silk-upholstered hug. 'It just hasn't been the same without you, has it, Caspar, angel?'

'Fan, it's great to see you.' I kissed f.a.n.n.y on her perfumed cheek, then said h.e.l.lo to Caspar. The big black greyhound rubbed his handsome head against my hand, gazing up at me with his enormous amber eyes. I do love dogs. They're faithful and they're kind and, unlike some human friends, they don't jerk you around. They don't mess with your head. They don't have wives and children. They don't make you fall in love with them ...

'Rosie, darling, what's the matter?'

'Sorry?'

'You're a million miles away. So who did you see, who did meet while you were in America?'

'I saw Tess and met her husband.'

'You're so silly, sweet.'

'What do you mean?'

'I think somebody's made off with your heart. So come on, my angel, tell Aunt f.a.n.n.y? I hope he's young and charming, smart and witty? You could do with someone smart and witty in your life, someone who could make you smile again.'

'f.a.n.n.y, no one's made off with my heart. I'm just preoccupied and jet-lagged.' This woman had to be a witch. I'd always sort of guessed and now I knew.

'I think you're in love,' persisted f.a.n.n.y.

'Well, you're wrong.'

'I'm never wrong, my darling, and you know it. What's he like? I hope he's handsome or at least attractive? I can't bear ugly men. Their looks always reflect their personalities grudging, warped and mean.'

'Let's get down to business, shall we, f.a.n.n.y?' I suggested. 'I know your time is precious and I don't want to impose.'

'Oh it's don't interrogate me, eh? p.r.i.c.kle, p.r.i.c.kle, p.r.i.c.kle, Mrs Tiggywinkle! But, my angel, I must ask you, how's your darling mother?'

'She's okay.' I shrugged. 'Well, of course, she's not okay. She's never going be okay again. But she's sort of coping, keeping busy, as is Dad. They loved the flowers you sent.'

'I wish there was something I could do. I feel so helpless. When I think of all your lovely mother's done for me-'

'f.a.n.n.y, please, not now?'

'I'm so sorry, sweetheart, clumsy me.' f.a.n.n.y Gregory came as close to blushing and embarra.s.sed as anyone as armour-plated and detached as f.a.n.n.y ever could. 'When you see her next, though, will you give her all my love?'

'Of course. So, Fan-'

'So, angel, I shall give you these accounts,' said f.a.n.n.y, handing me a USB stick and a dozen files. 'You've worked with all these people. So they know and trust you and they'll be very happy to transfer their business to your new company. They'll be more than happy, I imagine. You won't charge as much as me!'

'Thank you, f.a.n.n.y.' I was touched. I knew she would encourage and support me while I was getting going. But she didn't have to give me these accounts and we both knew it. 'This is really kind of you.'

'Oh, darling, it's my pleasure. While you've been in America, I've been recommending you to everyone I know. So now I'm going to have to watch my step or I shall do my lovely self out of a job. I'll be flogging The Big Issue outside Marks and Spencer. Caspar will be sleeping on a verminous old blanket underneath a railway arch. He won't like that at all. He's used to elegance and luxury.'

'It's never going to happen, Fan.'

'I hope you're right, my angel. So what did you do in Minnesota, darling girl, apart from meet somebody very nice?'

'f.a.n.n.y, please don't let's start that again.' But I knew I had to give her something, anything before she would shut up about who I had met or hadn't met. 'I met the famous novelist, Ben Fairfax.'

'I know you did, my love. But I meant men, of course.'

'Tess says Ben's a bloke and she should know.'

'But he's not available.' f.a.n.n.y glanced at me, her blue eyes narrowed. 'Or is he, darling heart?'

'Ben's not available.'

'So he and Tess are desperately in love?'

'I don't think Tess is desperately in love, at least with Ben. But she adores his Amex card.'

'I hope she's buying the right things. Rubies, diamonds, emeralds, they've always been a girl's best friends, you know. They'll come under personal chattels when she gets divorced.'

'You're such a cynic, f.a.n.n.y.'

'I'm a realist, darling. So you tell Tess from me earrings, bracelets, necklaces, the settings aren't important, but buy the biggest stones you can afford and always go for quality. The clarity and cut are more important than the size, unless we're talking rocks as big as hen's eggs, obviously.'

'Ben's already bought her a few diamonds, but I'll mention what you said about the cut and clarity for if she gets some more.'

'You mind you do,' said f.a.n.n.y. 'Personal accoutrements, that's what she should be buying. No judge in an American divorce court would make her give them back, no matter what. But darling, you look tired, are you well?'

'I've not been sleeping much.'

'It's not surprising.' f.a.n.n.y's gaze grew gentle. 'But you mustn't blame yourself, my love.'

'It was my fault.'

'It wasn't, and you know it. So you must stop beating yourself up, even though we always ought to do what we do best, and you're especially good at that. Darling, are you moisturising? You have crow's feet coming at the corners of your eyes.'

'I've been out in the sun. It was hot in Minnesota when I first arrived. I went for walks, did some exploring. I climbed up rocks and stuff.'

'It looks like you forgot the factor forty. Angel, I must let you have some samples. I've been sent this lovely range of wonderful new creams and serums. You shall try them out.'

'Thank you, Fan,' I said. 'It's very strange I've known you all my life, but you never look a minute older. What's your secret? Alchemy, black magic, a portrait in the attic?'

'Sun and water, angel keep away from both of them,' said f.a.n.n.y. 'I haven't washed my face since I was twelve.'