The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man Page 9

  And look. Ah ha. We were right. Agnes and Beamish, looking very much a couple. She’s holding his arm in a most proprietorial manner and their heads are bent towards each other as they talk quietly. For whose benefit is that, I wonder, as Emma and I exchange glances. Is this to fob Sylvie off or is there something going on? Goodness, Agnes does look glam - so does Beamish – and they really seem quite at home.

  It’s a perfect evening, the air balmy with the scents of jasmine and honeysuckle. A lilac-tinted sky hints at a glorious sunset to follow. No doubt Sylvie arranged that too. Invisible lighting shows off the garden like a film set, except I know with certainty that it’s utterly real, that this is how she lives and no-one will come in tomorrow and dismantle it.

  A handsome young waiter offers me and Emma champagne. He winks at us, which makes me think he’s probably enjoying this as much as we are. And it’s turning out to be such fun.

  Emma and I amuse ourselves by watching the throngs of guests and it’s not long before we find ourselves being chatted up by two very public school types. They’re tall and dark and not my type at all, but Emma is loving the attention, so I sneak away and leave her to it. Only I don’t get far before a familiar voice says quietly behind me, ‘Louisa, you look lovely.’

  Marcus. That was funny. For a split second, I had a delicious warm feeling when I first heard his voice. Until I remembered how I feel about him, that is. Champagne does odd things to me. I must pace myself. I turn around to find him looking quite James Bond-ish in his dinner jacket and bow tie. I wonder which floozy’s with him tonight?

  ‘How’s Horace?’

  ‘He’s fine, thanks. And I didn’t thank you earlier, did I, for coming to find us this morning. I think I panicked a bit. But I really appreciated it.’

  He smiles at me. Properly.

  We’re still standing there, smiling back and forth at each other, when Beamish joins us. And of course, it’s only a matter of time before Sylvie’s there too. She’s probably been planning this moment for months, if not years. Oh my golly gosh… Where on earth is Agnes when she’s needed?

  I can see Beamish looking around agitatedly, before making his excuses and bumbling off again. But Sylvie seems remarkably reconciled to the idea that he’s not available and barely even looks in his direction, as instead she turns towards me.

  ‘I’m so glad to see you,’ she says, most surprisingly. ‘I particularly wanted to introduce you, and Emma too…’ we both look around but Emma’s nowhere in sight, ‘… to my daughter. You see she’s only recently moved back here, and doesn’t really know many people.’

  Goodness, I’m not at all sure about this. Going on past experience, when a stranger thinks you’d be the perfect friend for their daughter/son/niece/cousin, generally it’s a terrible idea and doomed before you even meet.

  Then Sylvie nods towards a girl walking toward us. She’s not at all what I expect. More understated than her mother, she looks as though she’d rather be anywhere than here. It isn’t helped either, by the beautifully cut dress she’s wearing which looks a couple of sizes too small.

  Sylvie looks at me. ‘Er...’

  ‘Louisa,’ I chip in helpfully.

  ‘Sorry. Of course it is. Louisa. Karina’s probably a similar age to you...’

  As the girl pauses to talk to someone, my mind does a double back flip. Suddenly I feel extremely dizzy. Karina. Oh. My. God.

  Because I can see immediately from her slender frame and delicate cheekbones that Karina isn’t plump at all. Without any shadow of a doubt I know she’s pregnant. I feel very short of breath all of a sudden, and then horribly light-headed, as everything spins around me and a moment later, my legs give way.

  13

  When I come round, I’m slumped on the ground with a most concerned Marcus on his knees beside me. Apparently Sylvie’s gone to get me a glass of water.

  I’ve been out for several minutes, Marcus tells me, looking most anxious.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I try to smile reassuringly at him, then at Agnes, who’s materialised beside him. Though actually I do feel a little odd. ‘I just had a little bit of a shock.’

  And then I remember. Karina... Oh bollocks. Not a little shock, at all. My mind obviously just decided it couldn’t cope and zoned out.

  Five minutes later, though wobbly, I’m back on my feet and Agnes and Marcus between them lead me to a cushioned bench in a quiet corner of the garden. Mercifully Sylvie doesn’t find us. I’ve no wish to explain what her daughter’s been up to.

  ‘I’m going to get you some tea.’ Marcus strides off, leaving me with Agnes. How does he know that bizarrely, that at this party with free-flowing champagne, all I want is a hot cup of tea.

  ‘It’s her, Agnes,’ I tell her urgently, when he’s gone. ‘The Karina Arian’s having an affair with. I know it is...’

  I try to stand up again, but my legs are feeling shaky. All I want is to go home.

  ‘Sit down Louisa,’ says Agnes, calmly as ever. ‘You’ve had quite a shock. But how can you be sure it’s the same Karina?’

  She has a point, but nevertheless I’m absolutely certain it is. It’s an unusual name, ‘Karina’. And she’s pregnant. And just moved back home. And she didn’t exactly look like a radiant mother-to-be, as though something wasn’t quite right and I’d convinced myself that it was simply a matter of time before she saw Arian for the selfish tosser that he is. I know I’m right.

  Agnes waits with me until Marcus comes back carrying a bone china mug, then she goes off to find Beamish. Marcus sits down, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him against me.

  ‘To my rescue for the second time today...’ I joke feebly, still a little shaky.

  ‘Are you sure you’re alright? Only for a moment there, you had me worried,’ he says looking anxious still. No hint of cockiness or arrogance. Just kind concern.

  ‘I’m fine. I just had a shock.’ I sip my tea, which is strong and sweet, feeling calmer and less light-headed. ‘I mean, you don’t expect to meet the woman you’re husband’s left you for, not at a party…’

  Marcus stares at me, trying to work out whether I’m joking.

  ‘She’s called Karina,’ I explain. ‘His bit on the side is, I mean.’

  ‘You know,’ he frowns. ‘It’s possible it’s not the same one.’

  I give him a look. Honestly. Men have absolutely no sixth sense where such things are concerned. Can’t he just see that I know she is?

  ‘Okay,’ he says soothingly. ‘So let’s say you’re right. Now what? Would you like me to give you a lift home?’

  It’s tempting. Collapsing into my warm, comfortable bed seems very appealing at this moment, but hold on just a cotton-picking moment. I’ve been looking forward to this party for too long.

  I decide that I’m not letting anyone ruin this evening. That I can handle this little inconvenience and that ‘Karina’ might live here but as it happens, I’m still a guest.

  ‘You know what? I’m going to stay, Marcus. I’m fine now.’ Marcus is looking a bit unsure as I get up. ‘Come on,’ I add with more certainty. ‘Let’s go and join the party.’

  Marcus glues himself to my side as we circulate. Not entirely relaxed, as we take care to avoid Karina. At one point, Sylvie sees me and immediately comes to check that I’ve recovered.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say, losing count of how many times I’ve said that.

  ‘Really. I think she was just a little, erm, overcome...’ adds Marcus.

  Nice choice of words Marcus. Now she just thinks I’m a pisshead.

  ‘Well, as long as you’re sure... I don’t know where Karina’s gone, but I’ll try and find her…’

  ‘Don’t worry now - we’ll look out for her,’ says Marcus.

  Sylvie looks doubtfully from me to Marcus, who gives her a reassuring nod and then disappears into the multitude of dazzling guests again.

  I have quite a good time after that. Marcus and I dance for a bit, then he takes my hand and leads me off th
e dance floor. I’m feeling odd again, but not at all like earlier when I fainted. No. This time it’s more like a lovely warm, floaty feeling, from my heart pounding a little faster Somehow my hand ends up in Marcus’s and we walk across the garden, which in the darkness has an ambiance of pure romance.

  There’s a silence between us, but for once it’s comfortable rather than awkward. I’m just about to tell Marcus that actually, in spite of what went on earlier, I’m having a lovely evening, when out of the corner of my eye, among the hundreds of people that are here, I spot Karina again. The opposite side of the garden this time, over by the bar. She’s definitely looking unhappy. And she’s talking to someone I can’t quite see because his back is towards us. But then he turns and his face is caught in the uplighting, so that I can make out his profile, perfectly silhouetted against the house. Unfortunately it’s one I know well and for the second time this evening, a dizziness comes over me.

  It’s Arian.

  14

  At that point, I grasp Marcus’ hand and march him agitatedly in the opposite direction. I’m sure he must be thinking I’ve gone mad.

  ‘I have to go home,’ I tell him, more than a hint of desperation in my voice. There are limits after all, and I’m really not ready to confront my ex-husband and his squeeze, particularly in front of all my work colleagues and an entire party of hundreds of posh guests. Gosh, wouldn’t that give them all something to talk about.

  Ooh, see that girl over there, the one that got pissed and fainted? She’s only gone and given Sylvie’s daughter a piece of her mind, and at Sylvie’s party too…I ask you…You’ll never guess what, but she says she used to be married to Sylvie’s daughter’s boyfriend…I think she’s a bit mad, or maybe it’s the champagne, you know, gives some people delusions…can’t think why Sylvie invited her…

  I don’t think so. On this occasion, I would utterly prefer not to be the topic of people’s gossip, and it would most definitely be more dignified to slink home quietly, unnoticed.

  ‘Louisa? Louisa? Are you okay?’ Marcus is sounding worried again.

  No, I’m not okay at all.

  ‘Can you tell Emma for me?’

  ‘Look, I’ll text her. I’ll drive you. You look terrible.’

  It’s not what I want to hear. But he’s probably referring to the ashen whiteness that I can feel stealing over my face. For once, I don’t fob him off. I’m actually very glad to allow him to propel me in the direction of the Land Cruiser, where I sit quietly while he drives me home. It turns out he’s hardly had a thing to drink. Mostly my fault, I suppose, because he’s spent most of the evening babysitting me.

  ‘So, Cinderella,’ says Marcus, once we’re away from Sylvie’s. ‘What was all that about?’

  I sigh. Having dragged him away like that, the least I owe him is an explanation.

  ‘It was my ex. Definitely. With Karina.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘And don’t ask me if I’m sure,’ I snap rattily at him. ‘Because I am. I could hardly mistake him could I? We were married for five years.’

  ‘Hey Lou. It’s okay, I believe you.’ He says calmingly, as if to one of the horses that he’s about to stick a big needle into.

  We drive the rest of the way in silence.

  Marcus comes inside with me and I make us tea. Not really a night bird, Elmer staggers out of bed to greet us and then collapses snoring on my feet.

  ‘I’m so sorry I ruined your evening,’ I say guiltily to Marcus, as we sit down on my sofa.

  ‘You haven’t,’ he says firmly. ‘And anyway, these things happen. You’re getting over your marriage breaking up. It’s hardly an easy time for you.’

  ‘But I’m fine,’ I wail pathetically. ‘At least I thought I was. I definitely don’t want Arian back. I don’t know why I feel like this,’ and then once I start, the tears won’t stop.

  I don’t know how much later it is when Marcus hands me a neatly ironed handkerchief. ‘Here.’

  I blow my snotty nose and wipe my eyes, and look at him. He takes the handkerchief from me and gently wipes under my eyes, where no doubt my redistributed mascara has made me look as if I’m impersonating a panda. Then gives it back.

  ‘Look,’ he says gently. ‘I know you think you’re fine, as you keep saying. But it takes a little longer than a few weeks to get such a huge betrayal out of your system. One thing I do know though, is that next time you see either of them, the shock will be less. The first time was always going to be the worst. Louisa, you really will be fine, you know.’

  I’ve never heard a man say anything like that before. And so masterfully… I’m flabbergasted. How does he know all that stuff? I look at him quizzically.

  ‘Did something like this happen to you?’

  He laughs. Sort of. ‘Kind of. But we were never married, thank God. My girlfriend shacked up with the bloke I thought was my best friend - after we’d been living together for three years. I’d been about to ask her to marry me. I’d even bought the ring.’ He laughs again, more hollowly.

  ‘Oh.’ I’m shocked. That’s almost as bad as what’s happened to me. I’m nosy too, and then I realise. ‘So that’s why you came to work with us.’

  ‘I’m afraid it is. I needed a change of scene. Laura and I worked together. I didn’t have much choice in the matter. I couldn’t see the point in giving myself a daily reminder that she preferred my mate to me.’

  I put my hand on his arm. Poor Marcus. I know exactly how that one feels.

  ‘Anyway,’ he continues. ‘It was months ago, and I really am okay now. Fine, in fact, to use your favourite word. But I’m also tired.’ Looking at the simple, heavy watch he wears, he yawns. I like the watch. It’s classy. Far more tasteful than the mobile phone type contraption that Arian used to strap on his wrist.

  I look at my clock and realise we’ve been talking for ages. It’s nearly three o’clock in the morning.

  He gets to his feet and I walk with him to the door. Just before he leaves, he turns and looks at me, before kissing me on the cheek, taking me completely by surprise. He lingers slightly, as if wondering whether to do it again -then obviously thinks better of it and walks away.

  15

  I wake up late the next morning. My bedroom is bright with sunlight and my watch says ten thirty. I’m about to leap up when I realise that actually, it’s Sunday and I don’t have to. So I lie there for a bit, and go over the events of last night.

  So Karina is Sylvie’s daughter! What were the chances of that? Marcus is right though. Even today, the thought is less upsetting. And Arian was there too. It was the last thing I’d been prepared for, though the shock has worn off and I’m okay with it. At least, I think I am.

  Then I remember Marcus again and how nice he was to me. And the kiss goodnight. Okay. I have to admit it. Louisa Mulholland, you made a mistake. Marcus is not the arrogant womaniser you had him down as at all. He’s really nice.

  Eventually I get up and go to see Horace whose foot needs rebandaging, so I sort him out first and then Elmer and I go for a lovely relaxing walk by the river, the sun beating down on us. Well, it’s relaxing until we pass a scruffy-looking teenage boy loitering along in the opposite direction, with a rather mothy looking dog in a bling-encrusted collar. At that precise moment, Elmer goes into savage-attack-trained-pit-bull mode, nearly pulling me over in the process. She can really be a pain in the arse.

  The boy glares at me malevolently.

  ‘Oy Mrs, you ortta train that effing dog a yours...’ he shouts aggressively at me, as he reassures his trembling mutt. Cheeky bugger.

  ‘Sorry,’ I yell back, knowing it was all Elmer’s fault and dragging my vile dog away, before she does anything else.

  When I get home, Emma’s there, talking to Horace. We have loads to gossip about. It’ll take us hours to get through everything.

  I lock a disgraced Elmer up in solitary confinement. Then we sit outside in the warm sun with cold drinks, and Emma tells me everything that happened with Ben.
It doesn’t take much to work out that this girl is in lurve... Apparently they drank champagne and danced until sunrise, and then he came home with her… Wow. Did he? Sleepover? I mean did they... Emma’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.

  ‘Oh Lou, it was just amazing! Incredible! He is the sexiest guy…’

  Oh. Well. Of course I’m happy for her, but it’s too much information for me today. Especially after last night.

  I tell her that I too had a memorable evening and that I almost met Karina and collapsed in an undignified heap on the grass in a dead faint, and then, after I’d seen Arian was there, Marcus took me home. But he didn’t stay, I say pointedly. He went home. Her smile vanishes.

  ‘Karina? Not Arian’s Karina? What was she doing there?’ she says incredulously. ‘I’m so sorry I abandoned you… What a nightmare.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I assure her. ‘Marcus was with me all evening, actually. He was great.’ Emma does a double take. She’s used to me slagging him off, not singing his praises.

  ‘You,’ she says, ‘and Marcus...’ and a grin slowly spreads across her face.

  ‘It’s not like that,’ I say crossly. ‘Focus, Emma. I’d just been told that the tart my ex-husband is shagging is to be my new best friend. By the way, I forgot to tell you this bit, Karina just happens to be Sylvie’s daughter...’

  That shuts her up. I tell her how Marcus took me home. I omit to tell her about him kissing me.

  ‘I’ve arranged to meet Ben in the pub tonight. Do you fancy coming along too?’ Emma says to me.

  I think about it and how I’d quite like to see Marcus, who’s usually there on a Sunday evening.

  ‘Okay,’ I say, in spite of feeling exhausted. ‘I’ll be there.’

  It turns out that for once, Marcus isn’t. He’s on call. Of course. I think I knew that. Emma and Ben are like two lovebirds, so I quickly down my drink and leave them to it. There’s a Land Cruiser pulling away from my cottage as I round the last bend in the lane. Ah ha, I know who that is. I wave at it.