Always Mr. Wrong Page 4

  New Year, new resolutions and Guy, the new man in my life. My life just seemed to be getting better and better. I’d forgotten how exciting a new relationship was. Firstly the ‘can’t keep your hands off each other stage’. Followed by the ‘discovery stage’. Finding out how much you have in common. The quirks about each other that all go hand-in-hand with falling head over heels in love. Then lastly ‘commitment’. The stage when you begin to share your future together, when you know that no matter what, you want to spend the rest of your life with this person, even the quirks.

  Okay, I’d be a liar if I said Mum’s comments about having a baby had not lingered in the back of my subconscious. Yes, I’m thirty-six, in a few months thirty-seven, and let’s face it, good old Mother Nature is not on my side. You see, my problem is I have fallen head over heels in love for the very first time. Yet I’m stuck in the discovery stage, still bloody discovering where Guy and I are heading.

  “Just ask him straight out,” said my sister as cool as a cucumber.

  “It’s not something you ask though, is it? ‘Guy, where is this relationship going, and does it include children?’” I replied.

  “Clare, are you out of your head just thinking this?” Jess slopped three mugs of coffee down on the table.

  Oh, sweet baby Jesus, I can tell by the dewy look in Jess’s eyes she is about to embark on a chick lit, cum chick flick moment.

  “From the moment I saw you in my kitchen together I said to Martin they are like strawberries and cream. You could never imagine one without the other. Just like Wendy and Walter...a match made in heaven, but no one ever thought it would work.”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “Please, for the love of God, let Wendy and Walter be real people.”

  Jess gave me a haughty glare. “You may mock, Clare, but these people write about real life experiences.”

  “As I was saying,” Eleanor interjected and not soon enough. “If you never ask you’ll never be able to move forward, will you?” For once, my sister was actually speaking some sense. “Look at Hema and me.”

  Jess and I both groaned. Eleanor’s new yoga, vegan, Buddhist boyfriend, whose real name was Dwain, worked at Pet City and lived with his granny in Palmers Green. He was actually very sweet and had spent the last three weeks cleansing my sister’s aura, not that my family, Guy or I had a bloody clue what cleansing her aura entailed. But we all admitted she was a lot calmer. Okay, he may have cleansed her aura, but her physical needs needed a little more work. When Hema was around, she didn’t eat meat or drink wine and coffee. Instead, she had oats, nuts and his homemade nettle tea, as Hema sat, flexing, meditating and prophesizing crossed legged on my living room floor.

  “He says true love comes from opening up your heart. If feelings are kept inside how will we truly know each other. Something about a sunflower needing sun. Oh, I’m not sure about the sunflower thing.”

  Neither was I but the first bit seemed logical. But by the sudden beam on Jess’s face I knew she knew what Eleanor was saying. “Strike while the iron’s hot, Clare. You have to admit Guy’s a catch. And have you ever been this happy?”

  Bursting with excitement, Jess jigged around in her seat. “Oh, Clare, do it tonight. Just do it. I can see it now...a July wedding, you in oyster with peach flowers in your hair and Olivia in peach, throwing flower petals down the aisle. You could book a country manor. God, Guy would look so sexy in a tuxedo.”

  That’s all I need...advice from my ex-nympho party-going sister who has suddenly become a relationship guru and Jess who is the chick lit queen and thinks every real life relationship is a Jane Green Novel.

  “With Olivia at home this weekend, I hardly think so. Unless you would like me to broach the subject, while standing at the salad cart in Harvester tonight. Or Sunday lunch at Mum’s seems to be the norm for discussing our relationship.”

  * * * *

  That night Guy came down from putting Olivia to bed. He breezed into the living room, the biggest smile on his face, and kissed me on the top of my head. “I’d forgotten how much I loved The Famous Five stories when I was a boy. I hope when she is a little older, she’ll let me read her Sherlock Holmes.”

  Well, I don’t think I would have been so shocked if he had slapped me around the face with a wet fish.

  “But I expect she’ll be into.... What do girls read when they get to twelve?” he shouted from the kitchen.

  My pulse began to race.

  I looked at Eleanor’s lucky Buddha she had left on the fireplace and then to the other trivia of fen shui she had decorated my living room with, she and Hema saying it would increase positive vibes and love.

  Bloody hell, this crap must be working. Well, that has answered my question on where we are going. I mean, he’s not talking five weeks or five months. He’s talking five years. Are those the words of a man who wants a commitment? I looked to the little Buddha, almost expecting him to give me a wink or wave a hand, confirming I was right.

  In a shear act of anticipation that maybe there was something in all this junk, I jumped up and lit a handful of yin and yang joss sticks and began wafting them around the room, feeling a complete fool, performing this stupid ritual that earlier I had refused point blank to do in front of my sister and boyfriend. Nevertheless, just to make sure, I wafted them around the cheeky little Buddha, reciting. “Let him say yes. Let him say yes.” I was now ready for the next stage.

  Commitment. Asking Guy to move in with me.

  Bounding back to the sofa, I quickly cleared my head and focused on loving and positive thoughts. Well actually, I was thinking how best to seduce Guy and then ask him to move in. No time to dash upstairs and slip into something sexy and seductive,

  I quickly pulled off my sweater, pulled down my vest to reveal more cleavage, congratulating myself for remembering to put on my Wonder Bra. My 34As now looked perky and full over the scoop neck. I then heard what I thought was the pop of a cork. Bloody hell! Was our karma or auras working as one? Was Guy going to ask to move in with us?

  “You never said what she would like?” Guy walked back into the living room, taken by surprise at my lack of clothes, and me lying seductively across the sofa. “Are you hot? Or feeling un-well? Would you like the heating turned down?”

  Pouting my lips, I purred in my best sexy husky voice. “Only hot for you. I thought I heard champagne. Are we celebrating?” My sexy husky voice didn’t come over as Greta Gabo or Eartha Kit, as I imagined, more like I had a sixty-day Marlborough habit.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, it’s a bottle of sparkling wine a patient gave me. I’d left it in the car. I popped it in the fridge when you were bathing Olivia.” He returned to the kitchen to fetch the wine.

  “So you think a lot about the future, do you?” I wanted to shout. “I mean me and Olivia?” I looked at the laughing Buddha on the fireplace. I may as well ask the question myself. You, my little fat friend laughing at me from the fireplace, are a useless piece of crap.

  “When I’m not working I think of nothing else.” He returned placing our drinks on the coffee table.

  “So, what do you think about?” God, this is like pulling teeth.

  “Well, actually, oh God I wish I had brought the champagne now. I’ve wanted to ask you something for a few days now, and tonight after reading to Olivia I thought just do it.” Sitting beside me, he took my hands softly began stroking them. He seemed hesitant to ask. Come on, come on spit it out. It’s just five simple words. Shall we move in together.

  “After the house fell through in Hampstead I saw this house in Knightsbridge. I know it’s in the city, but it’s not a million miles away from Southgate. It’s a shorter tube ride to the hospital, and there are some great schools around there I checked. I suppose what I am trying to say is...” Taking my hand and gently kissing it, he slid off the sofa onto one knee. “Clare, will you marry me?”

  For some bizarre reason I began to giggle, not quite the reaction Guy was expecting, I am sure. Yet all I could t
hink was who I wanted to fling my arms around first...Guy or the fat little man who sat looking at me now with what seemed a look of triumph on his cute, round face, who had worked more than his magic. “I’m so sorry, Guy. I am just so surprised. I thought you were going to ask to move in with me,” I flung my arms around him. “Yes, yes.” I squealed in excitement. “I’ll marry you.”

  He reached into his trouser pocket.

  Oh, my god he already has a ring. I composed myself, wiped the stray tears of joy from my cheeks and held out my hand in anticipation. Instead, he pulled out a sheet of paper. What the hell is that, for the love of God!! Not a ring he has found on E-bay, printed off a picture, waiting to know if I like it before he starts bidding? On the other hand, a bloody credit note. He’s paid the money up front. I’ve got to go in myself and choose it? No, Guy would never ever do either of those, would he?

  With a sigh of relief, as I looked at the paper it was details of the house.

  “No rush. Take your time. If you don’t like it, fine. We can look at more. I perfectly understand.”

  Holy shit, Knightsbridge, that’s like mega posh. Who cares a flying fuck about Southgate? Wait until I drop this little beauty at the school gates to those mothers who think they are so better than me, sneering at me because Guy is over fifty. “Yes, I’m marrying Guy, haven’t you heard? We are moving to Knightsbridge.” I would flash my rock as big as my fist in front of their noses.

  Clare, just be cool, be calm, sound interested, at the same time thrilled, but for pity’s sake not like a bloody child on Christmas morning opening its presents. Or, better still, I could look at the paper later and seal the deal by taking Guy right here on the sofa. No! Look at the house first, then sex.

  “Knightsbridge—that sounds nice,” desperate to keep the excitement out of my voice.

  With shaking hands, I looked at the paper. The house was beyond my wildest dreams. I read the details aloud, my voice sounding more excited as I spoke. “Lounge, kitchen, utility room and a breakfast room, as well as a dining room. FOUR BEDROOMS, ALL WITH EN-SUITE AND DOMESTIC ACCOMMODATION.” I looked at Guy in disbelief. “Do we need that many rooms?”

  “Well, one room for us, one for Olivia, a guest room, the au pair would stay in domestic accommodation, and the other I thought....

  “Sorry, Guy,” I interrupted. “An au pair? For Olivia? Or,” I laughed. “Will the other bedroom be for Eleanor? I know she needs looking after, but I think an au pair a little OTT.”

  Guy took the paper out of my hands, took my shoulders and turned me around to face him. “I’d hoped we’d make the other into a nursery.”

  My heart seemed to stop beating, no oxygen flowing through my veins. I felt light headed. I needed air. Things started to fade away.

  “Clare, Clare! Are you alright? Breathe!” Guy still on his knees in front of me was seconds away from administering mouth to mouth as I let out a sudden gasp.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what came over me.”

  “It’s all a little overwhelming, I know, asking you to marry me, the house and a baby. I assume most women would react that way. I hope that nearly passing out on me like that was because you were delighted?”

  “And I am. I’m the happiest woman in the world.” I flung my arms around him, hoping that as we held each other tight that my trembling perceived as elation of soon to be Mrs Foreman from Kensington with their new baby.

  * * * *

  Two weeks had passed since Guy’s proposal. Of course I was ecstatic. Who wouldn’t be, planning a new life with the most handsome, cleverest and talented man, not to mention a sensational lover? Looking at a house that I only ever dreamed of living in. But you know when you get that feeling in the pit of your stomach, when you know that something is not quite right? Well, I had that every time nurseries, au pairs or babies came into a conversation.

  The last couple of weeks, I had done my utmost to keep our engagement as low key as possible. Low key? That was a laugh. Dad had demanded he take an official engagement picture of us both. Then when I opened the Times the following Sunday, I squealed in horror. There was Guy, sitting at my dad’s desk, I stood behind him, my diamond-clad hand resting on his shoulder. Outside through the French windows the snow covered garden made a romantic backdrop. We looked like a member of the sodding Royal Family, announcing their forthcoming nuptials. And it seemed that half of London thought the same, as hundreds of cards and e-mails from well-wishers flooded through our letterboxes and inboxes.

  Fabric swatches, paint colour charts and home improvement magazines littered the kitchen table. I personally thought this a little premature as we had only put in an offer on the house, and by all accounts, there had been three other offers. However, Guy thought we should think positive and start planning.

  And in retrospect, he was right.

  * * * *

  Jess had brought every Bride Magazine she could lay her hands on, complete with little post-it markers and scribbled notes of things she thought would interest me. Funnily enough, I had seen a wonderful simple calf length, off the shoulder dress in pale blue floating chiffon that I fell instantly in love with. I rang my Mum’s dressmaker without a second thought to Jess’s girly, fun-filled day of wedding dress shopping.

  The front door slammed. I waited to hear Guy’s keys clatter into the little china bowl that now was home for both sets of our house and car keys. It had become a welcoming action, that the love of my life was home safe and sound, making a mental note when we had our new house we needed a table by the front door.

  I couldn’t contain my excitement, leaping from the chair, I ran to greet Guy. Shouting as I ran into the living room “Have you heard? Did the estate agent call you? Two of the bidders for the house have dropped out. Guy, that means there are now only us and one other.” Knowing right away that he knew, with his arms already outstretched a massive grin on his handsome face.

  “I know, I know.” We hugged each other. Holding me tight, he lifted me up off the floor, swinging me around. “I can feel it, Clare. I just know that house is for us.” Placing me carefully back down, I could see the twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t be mad with me, but I was passing the store on the way home, and in expectation I brought this.”

  Grabbing my hand he led me back to the sofa. Sticking out of a huge carrier bag I saw two floppy, gold fur ears. I stood staring at it, knowing very well what was inside the bag. “Come on, pull it out.” With shaking hands, I pulled out the toddler-sized teddy bear. “It’s for the nursery.”

  My heart froze. I felt sick to the stomach. It was no good. I had to say something. Guy had been so honest with me right from his proposal of marriage, of how he saw our life together. It was now time, for both our sakes, for me to be honest with him.

  “Do you really need a nursery?”

  “I see what you mean. I must admit that I have been reading some of those mother and baby magazines on your ward while waiting for you, and some do suggest that a baby is better sleeping with its parents.”

  Throwing the teddy bear onto the chair, I grabbed his hands, pulled him closer to me, I knew what I was about to say would turn his world upside down. “No, what I mean is, Guy do you really need a baby?”

  “Are you saying you don’t want a baby?”

  “I’m not saying no, maybe in time, yes, but....” I pulled my hands away and covered my face. “Oh, Guy, please don’t hate me for saying this. There has never been a man that I have loved as much as you, and I know this sounds selfish, and I should have said from the start... Phil and I had Olivia so early in the marriage, and we spent all our time and efforts caring for her that we never had time for each other. I just want time for us. I want us to enjoy our life together.” Suddenly the emotions I had been holding back for the last few weeks opened up a bursting dam. I could not help the tears streaming down my face.

  Taking me in his arms Guy held me tight, soothingly rubbing my back, planting kisses on my forehead, he softly said, “Hey, hey, there is no p
ressure here. We can put this on hold. Talk about it another time. Okay?”

  Through the sobbing I managed a muffled, “Yes.”

  * * * *

  It had been a difficult few weeks. Our offer on the house had been declined. We had put offers in on two others in Southgate, Guy feeling we would be better living nearer Olivia’s school, family and friends. Guy’s small apartment was still up for sale, but as of yet no interest had been shown.

  But what was more challenging was how Guy and I seemed to avoid mentioning the B word, which made talking about my shift at the hospital very hard in deed. Guy had always been thrilled to talk about my work, yet since my outburst, his interest had somewhat dissipated. I did, however, notice how much more time than before he spent looking through the nursery window rather than chatting at the nurses’ station when he came to pick me up.

  Waking in the early hours of the morning, I rolled over to cuddle Guy only to find his side of the bed empty. Leaping out of bed, I began to panic he had left. Noticing his work clothes still hanging on the wardrobe door the panic subsided. In the hallway, he was just closing Olivia’s bedroom door.

  “Is she okay?”

  Hearing me, he turned and put his fingers to his lips. “Yes,” he whispered. “She had a bad dream. I sat with her for a bit. She’s sound asleep now.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I never heard her.”

  “I couldn’t sleep. Too many things going around in my head.” Taking my hand, he led me back to the bedroom.

  In silence, we got back into bed. For a few moments we both lay looking up at the ceiling.

  “Okay, if you want me to I’ll do the baby. If you want me to I’ll give up work or take an au pair...if you want me to.”

  He stretched out his arm, pulled me to him, wrapping his arm around me. “I don’t want you to have to want to for me. I want you to want to for you.”