Tripping On Love Read online

  As much as I wanted to believe her and I had spent time encouraging her, I knew within my heart that the reality was simply that Edward couldn’t have been as interested in me as the impression he had given. Like many men before him that had shown me interest, I was a distant memory once out of their sight.

  ----------

  Ronnie was quick to pick up on my mood as soon as I walked into the office.

  'Good weekend Lizzie? Any special dates?' he asked smiling at me, causing his chubby cheeks to become more pronounced. He was referring to Edward.

  I had hoped I wouldn’t come to regret informing both Ronnie and Samantha of the events at Carl's party, but I had been carried away in the moment, telling them all about Edward. Except now it had backfired. Edward still hadn't been in contact and I was fast losing patience with both my work life and my love life.

  Walking straight past him, I headed towards the small kitchenette area.

  'No Ronnie, not a good weekend. Unless you classify a good weekend, as sitting at home alone for forty eight hours with nowhere to go, and no one to share it with?' My voice quivered. I was on the verge of bursting into tears. I desperately bit down on my lip, trying to pull myself together.

  My weekend had been hideous. Mel had been working for the majority of it and the remainder she had spent shacked up with the university professor type that she had met at Carl's party. Unlike Edward, he had had the manners to call and ask her out.

  I sat down at my desk and eyed up the double chocolate chip brownie Ronnie had left on a napkin. Even the sight of the gooey, warm centre wasn’t giving me its usual rush of lusciousness.

  Samantha set down a coffee in front of me and perched herself on the end of my desk. Dressed head to toe in black – perhaps it was a Goth day – she looked fiercely at Ronnie and shook her head in a desperate bid to stop him pursuing the matter further. I made a mental note to thank her later for her unusual display of female solidarity.

  I took a sip of the lukewarm coffee, trying to hide a grimace 'Mmm nice, thanks' I lied, nodding gratefully.

  Samantha stood up and grinned at Ronnie.

  'Tell Lizzie your news. That’s sure to put a smile on her face.'

  I couldn’t help but shoot daggers at Samantha who was now rubbing her arms excitedly in anticipation. It wasn’t natural to be so upbeat all of the time and it certainly didn’t work well with her morbid outfit.

  'What’s this news then?' I said turning to Ronnie and trying not to sound as uninterested as I felt.

  Ronnie's eyes lit up and suddenly I was intrigued. I picked up the chocolate brownie in preparation for some juicy gossip and took a bite.

  'Well, you know I have a son, Teddy' he began.

  'Yes?' I sighed. My spark of interest instantaneously diminished. I was bored of hearing about Teddy. It was enough that I had to be subjected to a photo of fourteen year old Teddy on a regular basis. He was the image of his father. Dark hair, a chunky build and not so fortunate looking. Poor boy. Although I would guess that judging by the aged, dog eared photo that Ronnie carried in his wallet, Teddy would be some unfortunate woman’s husband by now.

  The mystery and tragedy of the father and son estrangement had been dispelled a few weeks beforehand when Samantha had told me that the death of Teddy's mother had caused the great rift. No further details had been imparted, despite my subtle prodding and I'd eventually given up on the soap drama of it all.

  Ronnie took on a serious tone. 'Sources have confirmed that Teddy is involved in a new hotel development in Marbella, Southern Spain. Apparently it’s been under construction for the last two years but there'll be a grand opening in three months time' he stopped to scratch his upper lip.

  'My thoughts are that it would be a good idea for RJ Travel to do a feature in Time & Travel magazine putting forward Marbella as this summer’s top destination and incorporating the hotel as our recommendation and main focus' he was looking at me expectantly.

  'What do you think?'

  I nodded slowly. If I understood correctly, Ronnie was proposing spending a large sum of the marketing budget bribing the Travel Industry's largest publication to focus on a destination and hotel, purely because it had links to his estranged son. Undoubtedly he hoped it would bridge the gap in some small way.

  I swallowed my last piece of chocolate brownie and washed it down with a sip of cold coffee.

  'If you'd like it to be something RJ Travel is involved in, then I don’t see why we shouldn’t go ahead with the idea' I said tactfully.

  I knew only too well that mixing both personal life and business was a risky strategy. Mine had got me fired. Ronnie's could potentially lose him his son forever.

  Ronnie smiled encouraged. 'Actually Lizzie, I was hoping that as your mother already lives in Marbella, you might be interested in combining a visit with work, courtesy of the company?'

  My ears pricked up. As much as I loathed visiting my mother on a regular basis, it was something I couldn’t avoid. Given the chance to reflect on my travel expenditure over the years, I would likely come to the conclusion that I could have owned my dream sports car outright. Ronnie's proposal was more than generous. It would allow me to kill two birds with one stone and for the first time I wouldn’t be footing the expenses.

  'Yes, I'd happily combine a visit. It'll be a good opportunity.'

  'Brilliant' Ronnie said, pleased with himself. 'We can discuss details later today.'

  Samantha grinned at me and walked back towards her own desk. I smiled to myself; there could also be a possibility of convincing Ronnie to allow me to write the review for submission. I had always had a secret desire to become an aspiring writer and what better way to harness my creativity than getting a suntan thrown in for free? Already things were looking up and it was only nine o’clock.

  I spent much of the morning and afternoon using free time to surf the internet for suitable business and sunbathing attire. My new pinched waist khaki suit certainly wouldn’t be making the To Take list. From experience, I knew that late spring in Marbella meant tight white jeans and oversized sunglasses. It was time to invest in myself. After all, I had to blend into my surroundings if I was now to be an international business traveller.

  It was as I was shutting down my computer and getting ready to leave, that I heard the unmistakable sound of my mobile text service. Rummaging through my bag, my heart was pounding with excitement as I hastily opened the text.

  'Hun, just to let you know I won’t be home tonight - unexpected date with HUGO! Mel x'

  My heart sank in disappointment. Mel had been hankering after our next door neighbour Hugo since he’d moved into the area two months prior.

  We knew he was a keen guitar player, often hearing him strumming at obscene hours. What Mel saw in him I didn’t understand, but the flirtation between the pair had been building over the past week. He’d obviously worked up the courage to finally ask her out. Although knowing Mel, she’d probably knocked on his door and invited herself in.

  If only I knew where Edward lived, I could have tried the same strategy myself.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I spent the fifteen minute tube journey daydreaming of Edward and I, until I was rebuked by a vicious elbow courtesy of a stocky gentleman, fighting his way to a recently vacated seat.

  My love life was a complete disaster. For the last four months I’d been happy enough in my own little world of singledom. Yet Carl’s party and meeting Edward had reminded me just how rewarding being in a relationship could be. With no one on the horizon to plan ahead with, my future seemed destined towards growing old and mangy, alone.

  The supermarket food shop loomed in my thoughts, it couldn’t be put off any longer. My shelf in the fridge was looking particularly bare and unless I was willing to dine on the lonesome, shrivelled cherry tomato and a quarter jar of pickled beetroot, it had to be tackled.

  As I hurried from the tube station into the light rain that was just beginning to fall, I thought of a heart warming, c
reamy Italian recipe that Mel often made. I could afford to gain a little extra weight and the evening was laid out in front of me with nothing better to do than focus on self pitying thoughts. Cooking myself something indulgent would be the ideal distraction and a good excuse to buy a complimentary bottle of wine.

  By the time I reached the supermarket entrance doors, I was wet and frozen to the core. The thought of having to boil pasta, chop garlic or simmer white wine was long gone, discarded as too ambitious. Passing the leafy vegetable section, I headed for the aisle of refrigerated ready meals. Why spend an hour cooking and an hour cleaning up after myself, if it was already done for me? Albeit in modified atmosphere packaging and a considerably smaller portion than I would have chosen.

  I was deciding whether to choose the spicy chicken chow mien or the lamb madras with free bhaji accompaniment, when a hand firmly clasped my shoulder. Jumping in fright, I immediately span around and came face to face with bright blue eyes.

  ‘Will! Whatever are you playing at, making me jump like that?’ Annoyance coursed through me, partly for being caught unexpectedly off guard and partly because Will was standing grinning at me, as natural as daylight.

  He laughed softly, eyes creasing at their corners.

  ‘Sorry Miffy, I was just on my way to get in some beers as I’ve got the lads coming over tonight. The football’s on.’

  My heart skipped a beat and a lump rose into my throat threatening to choke me. He’d called me Miffy; his pet name for me ever since we’d first met and I’d reminded him of his favourite childhood rabbit.

  I had found it funny and endearing during our relationship but as I stared into his familiar handsome face, I suddenly wondered if it had any connotation towards my rather large front teeth. Coincidentally now a brilliant white thanks to the amazing Dr Sheeta of the whitening clinic.

  I stiffened, the anger and annoyance returning. ‘Amanda won’t be pleased when she catches you talking with me.’

  I lowered my eyes from his and settled on his basket, noticing that aside from the beer’s, there were half a dozen ready meals. For one.

  He followed my gaze.

  'I thought you might have heard about Amanda and I. She left me the day after the party. Told me she’d only ever seen our relationship as a refuelling period until she found someone that could give her what she wanted.’

  He gave a small laugh but his blushing cheeks and bitter tone indicated that it had come as a complete shock to him.

  I reached out to touch his arm in empathy. Then I remembered the cold winter morning that he had announced over breakfast, at our newly purchased dining table, that he was leaving me for Amanda. The pool of anger and humiliation I thought had long gone, resurfaced with full force, almost taking my breath away. I felt my voice come out in a strangled tone.

  ‘Well I’m sorry to hear that Will, but as they say, what goes around comes around. Let’s face it - you certainly had it coming.’ I raised one eyebrow at him challengingly, almost willing him to argue.

  He looked away sadly, unable to meet my eyes as his blonde hair flopped down across his forehead.

  ‘I think you’ve made yourself perfectly clear, Lizzie. I said hello for old times sake, not to try and gain sympathy. I know that would be a fruitless effort. The past is the past but I know one thing; I made a mistake with you, Lizzie' he reached out and took my hand in his.

  My mind desperately tried to stop my hand from cooperating, but my heart said otherwise. I felt his fingers entwine with my own and ached for his embrace.

  His voice became a whisper as tears threatened to form in his eyes.

  'You were the one for me, Lizzie and I pushed you away. You know my number; if you ever want some company, even as friends, then call me. I couldn’t think of a better person to spend my time with.’

  His eyes bore into mine pleading with me to say something. Behind him, a family fought over which cheese to put into their trolley, the mother reprimanding the older child, whilst the father winked in conspiracy. Something shifted in my heart strings as I looked back towards Will. Had he not been so selfish and mindless, that could have been our future together, as a family. Instead he had chosen to disrespect me and ruin the love that we had. Only a fool would go back for seconds. I snatched my hand from his.

  A static crackling filled the air and a harsh, high pitched voice boomed over the echoing speakers.

  ‘Customer Announcement, Customer Announcement. Please could Elizabeth Saunders come to the customer services desk, Elizabeth Saunders to the customer services desk.’

  Will stood speechless as I turned without words and walked away from him.

  Each step feeling lighter and freer than I had done in six years, the moment of clarity I had so desperately been searching for, all of a sudden so clear and obvious. Will had never truly been in love with me.

  At the beginning it had been lust and excitement. Love for each other had developed but never really on a deep, heart rendering level. We had become obsessed with one another, our lives gradually entwining and as we'd grown together it had become familiar and safe. Neither of us had resisted it, instead we'd let it carry us along thinking we were doing the right thing.

  All of the signs had been there that things weren’t right between us. Yet it had taken Will's affair to finally open the canyon that we'd been tight-rope walking across. A canyon that could never be filled. What we had hadn’t been worth saving. Which is why neither of us had fought to do so.

  ----------

  A small, heavy set ethnic lady sat behind the customer service desk looking grim and eyeing me suspiciously as I approached.

  'Hi, you just made an announcement for Elizabeth Saunders. I'm the one and only.' I said, half tempted to courtesy as I smiled at her.

  Her face remained impassive and grim.

  'Yes, there is some policeman upstairs in the main office waiting to talk to you' she replied in a strong Jamaican accent.

  My face froze. 'Policeman? Why? What’s going on?' I was aware my voice sounded desperate but I didn’t care.

  I looked down at my nearly empty basket. Did they think I had stolen something? Perhaps I had been looking too intently at the ready meal section. I had lingered in the aisle longer than necessary reading calorie content on all the offers. Perhaps they suspected me of planting a bomb?

  'All I know is that they need to speak with you – they don’t tell me anything more.' She raised her arms up crossly and continued 'I am nothing but a worker here. You understand?' her agitated voice was now ringing incredibly loud across the store.

  I lowered my head in embarrassment. Not only was I about to be arrested but the Jamaican lady was going to assault me first if I wasn’t too careful.

  'OK' was all I managed to mutter as I followed her towards the back door of the store.

  She led me through a staff only entrance and up a small flight of stairs. I felt a little like I was walking the death row, green mile. My last supper in the basket I was still holding on my arm.

  We arrived at a brightly lit room with two policemen and a man in a suit. The Jamaican woman spoke first.

  'Sir, I have brought you Ms Elizabeth Saunders.' She beckoned me forward. The man in the suit rose up and stepped forward.

  'Thank you, Marcia. You may go back to your duties now.'

  The Jamaican woman smiled brightly. ‘Thank you, Sir' and she walked out of the room with not so much as a nod in my direction.

  Well I certainly wouldn’t be sending her any letters from prison.

  I looked worriedly towards the man in front of me. He spoke before I had a chance to.

  'Ms Saunders, thank you for coming along. Please do not be alarmed' he said slowly.

  My eyes caught the sly look he gave to the police officers beside him. Heart pounding, I couldn’t bear the suspense any longer. They obviously had their wires crossed and were mistakenly accepting me as a criminal.

  I would have to make a run for it. It was my best chance of avoiding bein
g escorted off the premises in handcuffs and a police car. If I could make it to Stella's house she would know what to do.

  I looked down towards my feet. Although I was wearing my flat round toe pumps, I could probably make it as far as the car park. Then what?

  I looked up again at the two muscular policemen. They wouldn’t have any problem taking me down. I would have to try and grab a can of hairspray on the way out - sprayed in their eyes it could be very effective and would buy me at least another five minutes escape time. Those minutes would allow me just enough time to run across the road. Or maybe towards the disabled toilet? That would be a good hiding place.

  The man in the suit turned away from me and reached for something behind him. My thoughts jerked wildly. This was my chance to run. I hadn’t done anything wrong but there was no point arguing my innocence. Will had always warned me that the police were corrupt. They could plant evidence, forge signatures or even make me out to be a diplomatic spy if they so chose. I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

  He spun around quickly. 'Ms Saunders, do you recognise this item' he said, holding up a transparent plastic bag housing a beige leather purse, in front of him.

  Adrenalin buzzing through my veins, I managed to focus on the object he was showing me.

  'Yes, what are you doing with my purse?' I asked confused. Why was this man in possession of my purse?

  The taller of the policemen spoke.

  'Ms Saunders, we've detained a woman suspected of shop lifting. Upon inspection of her belongings we came across this' he gestured towards my purse.

  'I’ve been robbed?!' Shock rendered me speechless. How on earth had someone managed to take my purse out of my bag without me noticing? When had it happened? Will surely would have noticed had it taken place when we were speaking.

  I looked across at my purse. It was relatively new and had been a treat to myself after the split. Well aware that it had cost much more that the average woman spends on a purse, I had deliberately been keeping it safe. It was an investment in myself.

  'Is it OK?' I asked concerned.