‘Oh ye of little faith. I’m just writing down one or two predictions for you. You’ll be able to look at these a year down the line and think, “oh yes, that funny guy I met at that wedding, he did know what he was talking about after all.”’
‘Can’t I just read them now?’
‘Nope. What’s your surname?’ he asked. When he finished scribbling down whatever it was he was writing, he folded the paper in half before inserting it into the envelope. He then wrote on the outside.
‘For Jen Faraday – Not to be opened, in any circumstances, until 19th April 2016’
‘But that’s a whole year away! You do realise I’m going to go straight home after this and the first thing I’m going to do is rip open the envelope and read what you’ve said.’
‘No, you’re not,’ he said, removing the envelope from my hand. ‘Can’t you read what it says on the envelope? Not to be opened until 19th April 2016. And to save you from any temptation I’m going to give this to the waiter and ask him to put it behind the bar with strict instructions not to hand it to you until the designated date.’
‘Really? You’re mad, do you know that? Absolutely mad. I’ll have completely forgotten all about it by then. Memory like a sieve, me.’
‘Well if that’s the case then no harm done. But, if you do happen to remember, and you’re curious as to what’s in here,’ he waved the envelope in the air, ‘then you can always come and have a look. In one year’s time, that is.’
I laughed. Who knew where I might be then. Alex’s predictions were probably as good a guess as my best surmising, although I highly doubted I’d be married with four children!
‘Well thank you. You never know – if I’m in need of a bit of spiritual guidance in a year’s time, I’ll know where to come.’ Although I suspected the barman would probably bin the note just as soon as the crazy, giggling and clearly drunk couple had left the building.
Alex was looking at me intently, a lazy seductive smile on his lips.
‘Look, Jen. I don’t want this party to end.’ He reached across for my hand, but this time there was a very different intent in the action. ‘Why don’t you come back to mine for some coffee.’ He pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen. ‘Oh look, I’ve just had a text from the band.’
‘What?’
‘You know, the band who should have turned up at the wedding. They got their wires crossed apparently and turned up at my place instead.’
The breath caught in my throat as a tingle of anticipation ran down my arms.
A contented weariness spread along my body. It had been a lovely, but long and exhausting day. Weddings always affected me that way. Alex had been great company but I wasn’t the type of person to go home with someone on a first date. Only this wasn’t a first date and this wasn’t just someone. This was a charming, gorgeous, red-hot date. Six months of trawling internet dating sites hadn’t brought anyone of this deliciousness anywhere near my inbox. This was definitely the ideal opportunity to practice what my mum had preached and embrace my inner gorgeousness.
‘Bloody band, getting the details wrong,’ I said, leaning across to leave a small kiss of intent on his lips. ‘I suppose we ought to give them the benefit of the doubt and turn up for at least one dance. I mean, it would be rude not to.’
‘Oh shit!’ An arm hit me in the shoulder and a flurry of sheets and pillows and covers were tossed in the air as the slow realisation of where I was and what I had done filtered into my consciousness. ‘Sorry Jen, I’ve got an exhibition opening this morning. The artist is putting in an appearance and there’s a whole host of guests turning up. Well, that’s the plan anyway. I’ve got to go. I’m late as it is.’
Alex jumped out of bed without an inch of self-consciousness and I closed my eyes as though I hadn’t seen him in all his naked gloriousness the night before. Slowly I opened them again, my eyes adjusting to the light filtering in through white linen curtains, my brain adjusting to where I was and hoping to god Alex wouldn’t turn around again. Hoping that all of this was a product of my over-active imagination.
‘Take your time though.’ Oh god, there he went, doing exactly what I hadn’t wanted him to do. I quickly snapped my eyes shut again, trying to somehow un-see what had just been staring me in the face.
It wasn’t that I was a prude, it was just that I wasn’t that sort of girl. Or at least I thought I wasn’t until yesterday. I’d got to the ripe old age of twenty-seven and never had a one-night stand before. So lord knew what had possessed me to act so out of character last night and break a habit of a lifetime.
Possibly the champagne. Definitely the undeniable attraction of the man who was now running in and out of doorways, picking up and discarding various bits of clothing as though he was the lead character in a comedy farce.
What would Angie say if I told her? That despite all her warnings I’d ended up in bed with the groom’s best friend. Probably best not to tell her, I reckoned. By the time she returned from her honeymoon this would all be a hazy memory.
A pretty good memory admittedly. Alex had been the perfect companion, funny, charming and totally seductive, and it had been all too easy to fall for his charms. Oh, and the dancing, how could I have forgotten the dancing. I’d felt like Ginger Rogers to his Fred Astaire – gliding around Alex’s living room as though we could actually dance, laughing so much until we fell into an ungainly heap onto his sofa.
It had all felt so normal and natural, as if we’d known each forever, and now I sensed that late night easy familiarity was about to be replaced by an early morning awkwardness.
Alex was hopping about the bedroom looking less like the smooth operator of last night and more as though he had two left feet, pulling on a pair of black cotton boxers that only went a tiny way to making me feel any less embarrassed by being in close proximity to such a very naked man.
‘Help yourself to tea or coffee in the kitchen. It’s through there,’ he pointed helpfully. ‘There’s cereal in the cupboard or some bread in the tin if you want to make some toast.’ He disappeared for a few moments before poking his head round the door again, only thankfully this time he was fully dressed. ‘My phone’s not over there is it?’
I gave a cursory glance over the bedside cabinet. A radio/alarm clock, a pair of engraved cufflinks, a half dozen assorted coins but, more insistently, a pair of abandoned silver teardrop earrings that were flashing at me like a pair of Belisha beacons. I felt a wave of nausea. My gaze got stuck on those damn things until I realised Alex was waiting for an answer.
‘Yep, it’s here,’ I said, leaning over and grabbing it for him.
‘Cheers.’ He came and perched on the edge of the bed and stroked his thumb across my cheek, taking the phone from me. ‘I had a really great time yesterday, Jen. The wedding was fab, but sharing the day with you, getting to know you made it all the more special.’
I smiled, feeling vulnerable, naked under his bed covers while he was fully dressed. I resisted the urge to reach up and throw my arms around his neck, pulling him back into bed but I sensed a subtle shift in the atmosphere from last night. It was obvious he wanted to get away as quickly as possible.
‘I’ve got your number so I’ll give you a call. We can do it again, go out for dinner or something?’
I nodded, pulling the duvet up higher around my body.
‘Or you give me a call, yeah?’ he added.
‘Yes, sure. We’ll get something sorted,’ I said, breezily. Now I remembered why I’d never had a one-night stand before. Everything that seemed so romantic and magical last night