Chapter 24
‘Do what?’ Cal’s attention was still fixed on the road ahead.
‘I opened the message! Completely by mistake! It was an accident!’
‘OK.’ He grimaced slightly. ‘What does it say?’
It had all happened in a split second. Mimi’s scalp was still prickling with mortification, her palms damp with sweat. ‘Um . . . she misses you and can’t wait to . . . er, see you tonight.’
Cal nodded. ‘Well that’s OK. No need to be embarrassed.’
‘I shouldn’t have opened it, though.’ Because he was going to find out anyway, Mimi said, ‘There was a photo too.’
‘Ah.’ A brief pause. ‘Thought there might be.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Me too. Was she naked?’
‘No!’
He looked relieved. ‘Well that’s something.’
‘But she wasn’t wearing a sweater and jeans either.’
‘OK, I can guess.’ Cal heaved a long sigh. ‘Look, I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but I don’t know who else to ask. Della keeps sending me these photos of herself and I wish she wouldn’t, but I have no idea how to stop her without making things awkward. If I tell her not to do it any more, she’s going to be offended.’ He gestured helplessly. ‘This is going to make me sound a hundred years old, but it’s never happened to me before. Stacey and I didn’t . . . go in for stuff like that. So for it to be happening now . . . God, it just seems so weird. But I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Della thinks it’s a fantastic thing she’s doing for me. It’s not her fault I’m finding it a bit cringey.’
Mimi’s heart went out to him, at the same time as giving a secret squeeze of Schadenfreude because Della’s efforts evidently weren’t as welcome as she thought they were.
‘You aren’t a dinosaur, you’ve just been off the market for over a decade. That’s the equivalent of a century in olden-days dating. Technology’s changed everything,’ Mimi reminded him. ‘People used to snigger at the idea of dating agencies and personal ads in the paper. Now everyone’s on Tinder.’
‘Paddy told me I should give Tinder a go.’ Cal shook his head. ‘I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.’ He looked at her. ‘Are you on Tinder?’
‘No point, not while I’m out in Puerto Pollensa. Anyway,’ she swerved the subject back around to him, ‘I think you should tell Della that someone accidentally saw her photo and just say it was a bit embarrassing so maybe she shouldn’t send any more. Don’t tell her it was me,’ Mimi added hastily. ‘Pretend it was the vicar, or Henrietta, or someone like that. And explain how awkward it was.’
‘I could try that.’ Cal nodded, but he was sounding doubtful. ‘Although she’ll probably just tell me to put a lock on my phone.’ Another pause, while he signalled and took the turning off the motorway. ‘Does everyone do it now? Send photos like that? Is it just . . . normal?’
‘I think probably a lot of people do . . . I don’t really know. They have cameras on their phones, so they use them. But not everyone does it.’ Seeing that Cal was glancing sideways at her, she added, ‘I never have.’
He visibly relaxed. ‘That makes me feel a lot better.’
‘Good.’ And now it was the turn of Mimi’s phone to burst into life. She saw the name and pulled a face. ‘Hi, CJ, how are you?’
‘How am I? Sick of people expecting me to arrange things that it isn’t my bloody job to arrange. Have you landed yet?’
Oh joy.
‘No, I haven’t landed yet because it’s only ten o’clock and my flight doesn’t leave until midday. Are you picking me up from the airport?’
He snorted. ‘What am I, your personal taxi service? You can get the bus.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Mimi said brightly. ‘I’ve had a lovely break.’
‘What?’
‘Oh sorry, I thought you were asking me if I’d had a nice time.’
‘You’re hilarious,’ CJ growled. ‘Also, I emailed you two hours ago and you haven’t replied yet.’
‘Marcus’s car wouldn’t start.’ Mimi marvelled at his impatience. ‘The rescue services weren’t able to come out. Someone else is kindly giving me a lift to the airport and when I get through to departures I’ll deal with my emails. I’m sure it can wait until then.’
‘I suppose it’ll have to. Who’s giving you a lift?’
‘A friend. His name’s Cal.’
‘Cal, Cal. Dead wife.’
For God’s sake. Mimi squashed the phone hard against her ear, but CJ’s booming voice was still audible; Cal must have heard it. ‘He’s driving the car,’ she said.
‘And is he the one you’ve got a crush on?’
What? Where had that even come from? ‘No, definitely not. Not at all.’ Clammy with horror, Mimi repeated firmly, ‘No.’
‘I’ll see you later.’ CJ barked with laughter. ‘Bye.’
Mimi hung up and closed her eyes. He was an absolute nightmare.
‘What did he say?’
She looked across at Cal, unable to tell for the life of her whether or not he knew.
‘Couldn’t you hear him?’
Cal shook his head. ‘No.’
Was this true? Or a double bluff to see if she’d say it?
‘He wanted me to write a Q&A on his behalf for the New York Times. Because he can’t be bothered to do it himself.’ The lie sounded convincing, as well it might; it was a favour he’d asked her to do for him last month. ‘Well he can take a running jump.’
‘Right.’ Cal nodded. ‘So he’s still a pain to work for, but you’re going to stick it out.’
‘It’s a job and it pays well. It’ll look good on my CV.’ Mimi corrected herself. ‘It’s going to look miraculous on my CV. And it’s only for a few more months. I can cope with CJ for that long.’
‘Good for you.’ After a moment Cal said, ‘And when it’s over, I suppose you could go anywhere, London, abroad . . . anywhere at all . . .’
How was she supposed to respond to this? She imagined saying: may as well, seeing as I’d kind of hoped something might happen between you and me, but clearly that now isn’t going to happen . . .
No, no. No way.
‘I’ll go wherever I get the best offer.’ Mimi plastered her confident-career-girl smile firmly in place. ‘And once those agencies see how long I’ve survived working for CJ, they’re all going to want me. Trust me, I’ll be in demand.’
Cal half smiled. ‘I’m sure you will.’
They reached the airport and parked up in the express drop-off area.
‘Honestly, thank you so much for this, you saved the day,’ said Mimi as Cal hauled her carry-on case out of the boot and locked the car. ‘Oh, you don’t have to come in with me.’
‘Let’s just make sure the plane hasn’t been delayed. The last time I dropped someone here, the flight was cancelled. Come on, it won’t take two minutes to check.’
They had to walk single-file along the covered walkway. Cal was in front, pulling her case, and Mimi followed just behind him. Because she was only human – and how often did you get this kind of opportunity? – she studied his rear view. The ends of his blonde hair curved over the collar of his brown suede jacket, which tapered from his broad shoulders to hip level. Then there was the back of his faded jeans with the outline of his wallet visible through the worn right-hand pocket. He truly did have the best backside she’d ever seen, and his long legs as he strode along were just . . . well, equally hypnotic to watch. Some men were just able to walk in that particular way; it was mesmerising to witness—
‘All right?’ Cal paused to glance over his shoulder and Mimi almost cannoned right into him. ‘Sorry, just checking I hadn’t lost you.’
And the easy way he said it, coupled with the expression in his eyes, sent a rush of adrenalin through her body. Because he had lost her.
Worse still, he’d never had her.
She nodded, hiding the tangled emotions behind a bright smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’m here.’
Then they reached the main concourse – no delays on the board – and it was time for Mimi to head up to departures. It was sheer bad timing that she and Cal found themselves at the foot of the escalator, launched into what felt like the end credits of Love Actually. To her left, an Italian couple in their thirties were superglued to each other; to the right, a French girl and her boyfriend were enthusiastically kissing and murmuring endearments, whilst just behind them an older man was clutching his partner, saying tearfully, ‘I’m going to be counting the minutes until I see you again.’
And now a teenage couple were exchanging final frantic kisses whilst a middle-aged woman ascending the escalator bellowed, ‘Stop it now, Victoria, for goodness’ sake. That’s quite enough.’
More kissing, then Victoria peeled herself away from the love of her life and sulkily followed her mother up to Departures. Which was something to be grateful for, but still left the other couples competing for most romantic goodbye of the year.
Mimi, standing in front of Cal, said, ‘Well, thanks again for the lift.’
Oh God, could I sound any more British?
‘My pleasure,’ murmured Cal.
His pleasure. Just the way he said it was bringing the little hairs up on her arms. Surveying him from this angle was even more breathtaking than viewing him from behind. Plus, the smell of his aftershave was so delicious that the moment she reached duty-free, Mimi knew she was going to have to find some and spray it all over herself.
Oh, he’d been saying something. Flustered, she said, ‘Sorry, missed that. Couldn’t hear you over the sound of all the kissing.’
‘I said, when are we likely to see you again, any idea? Will you be back for Christmas?’
‘I don’t know, hopefully I’ll get a few days off.’ It was distracting to say the least, having the French girl to the right of her exclaiming, ‘Oh mon ange, je t’aime, je t’aime beaucoup!’
‘Well, let’s hope you do. Right, I’ll let you go.’ Cal inclined his head slightly towards her and Mimi froze, realising he was about to kiss her. Sensing her reaction, he promptly froze too, and for a split second they stood there suspended in time, before Mimi tilted her cheek up to his and he responded, his lips brushing against the side of her face, and this time it wasn’t completely anaesthetised so at least she was able to feel it.
Even if it was possibly the world’s clunkiest cheek-kiss, followed by that awkward moment when you both tried to pretend it hadn’t been clunky at all.
‘OK! Bye, lifesaver!’ Mimi grabbed the handle of her case.
‘Bye.’ Cal’s answering smile made her long to try again but get the kiss right this time.
She couldn’t do that, though.
Halfway up the escalator, after twenty seconds of imagining Cal’s eyes lingering on her rear view just as hers had earlier been fixed on his, Mimi twisted round to smile and do a tiny farewell wave.
But he wasn’t watching her. Instead he was turned away, fishing in his jeans pocket, hurrying to answer his ringing phone.
Which kind of told her all she needed to know.
Moments later, as they queued to go through security, the jovial man next to Mimi said, ‘Cheer up, love, might never happen.’
Except it had.