But it didn’t. He might’ve been a good-looking man, but he was an arsehole. How could it have taken me so long to see it?
‘What an utterly dickish move Peter. You know how important this guitar is to me, how could you leave it out there on the street for anyone to steal?’
‘Stop being so dramatic, Beth. I only just put it there. We agreed half past eight, didn’t we? I was hoping to spare us having to talk to each other.’ He smirked at me, speaking with that well-pronounced drawl that implied he was so above it all. Except I knew the truth. I heard the soft rolls and lilts he couldn’t hide once he’d had a drink. Listening to his efforts to eradicate his Welsh accent from his voice had once made me feel special, like I was in on a secret, because he would only let it slip when he was a little tipsy, or tired, or at – ahem – other times. Now, I was more inclined to berate myself for ignoring the sign that Peter was a pretentious snob who thought he was better than his small mining-town upbringing and wasn’t above putting on a front nearly every minute of the day.
‘Please don’t flatter yourself that I was hoping for a heart to heart. I just figured we could be civil adults towards each other for the space of two minutes.’
‘Yes, but that would require both parties to be able to act like adults wouldn’t it?’ He raised an eyebrow and let his gaze drop meaningfully towards my guitar, as though that was the proof I acted like a child.
‘Do you actually believe that’s true or is it just easier to feel better about your own mistakes if you keep making out I’m some dumb bimbo who can’t survive without you?’
‘I don’t even know what you’re talking about.’ He fiddled with his watch strap, straightening the chunky gold links, and then checked the time like I was boring him.
‘Sure, of course you don’t.’ I shook my head and turned my back. ‘Have a good life, Peter,’ I called over my shoulder.
He didn’t even answer. The door slammed shut behind me before I reached street level again and despite the extra weight I was now carrying in the shape of my guitar, I felt like I was floating down the pavement towards the bus stop. I was well rid of that man and it was time to go and party.
In the space of the last half hour the roads had become busier with people heading out to wherever they were planning to see in the New Year. The bus was full of commuters dressed in their best threads and many a toe was getting crushed beneath a stiletto heel as we all shuffled further and further in, trying to accommodate more passengers. Needless to say, I was extremely unpopular with my bulky guitar case, but I did my best not to pay too much attention. It was amazing how easy it was to slip back into that city habit of not meeting anyone’s eye.
My phone vibrated and I pissed off the couple to my right as I took up two inches more elbow room to fish it out of my pocket.
Noelle: Apartment 2a, Gratton House, Eaton Square.
Me: ??? Did you mean to send that to me?
Noelle: Let a woman finish typing. Nick is staying at his brother’s, that’s the address. You are welcome.
I froze, in shock and then bounced around like a rubber ball against the people nearest me, because I was completely unprepared for the bus slamming on its brakes and the inevitable pendulum swing in everyone’s balance. Much tutting ensued around me, but I just needed to make sure I had my phone and guitar intact and then try to process Noelle’s message. People were still squeezing out of the doors, and I made the split-second decision to join them.
As soon as everyone had filtered off from the bus stop, I put my guitar between my legs and focused all my attention on my phone.
Me: How do you know that?
Noelle: I have been sneaky and mean but Stephen totally deserves it IMHO.
Me: Spill it. What’s going on?
Noelle: Mr Smooth gave me his number at Christmas. ‘If you’re ever in London and want a tour guide, blah, blah’, you know the line. Well, I decided to pretend I am in London. Been texting him most of the day, like I’m bored in a hotel. Found out what he’s up to, who he’s with (that’s how I know Nick is there), and then I suggested I pop by for a visit this evening. He sent me his address, voila.
Me: Noelle, I could kiss you! You are an evil genius!
Noelle: He thinks he’s going to get lucky!! Lol!
Me: He does totally deserve it. How long is Nick going to be there?
Noelle: I dunno, I couldn’t ask too many questions about his brother, I had to be subtle. I’ve been working on that man’s ego all day for you.
Me: Thank you so much! I should go now shouldn’t I?
Noelle: Yes! Do it. And then you better get your pilot boyfriend to fly you over here to visit me.
Me: Oh no, I don’t think that’s going to happen, but I need to say sorry to him.
And I’ll come visit you as soon as I can afford to.
Noelle: I have faith in you. Go get that man!
Chapter Twenty-Three
