Marsh stepped into the flat and shook Polly's hand. He was wearing a big overcoat
that made his shoulders look broader than usual. Underneath, he was wearing a suit, but with
no tie. His shirt, a green one that somehow made his hair and eyes look browner than usual,
was open at the neck. This little touch had the effect of making him look laid back and made
Jane think very naughty thoughts.
When Marsh caught sight of her, his eyes widened. For a moment, he looked
completely frozen, as though he'd stopped breathing.
Jane felt a rush of satisfaction at getting such a reaction. "Hi."
"Wow! You look...amazing." He seemed to have forgotten Polly was there. His eyes
were sparkling when he kissed her cheek.
"Have you heard anything about the partnership?" she said, trying to sound
casual.
"I'm not thinking about that this evening." He offered her his arm.
"You kids have fun," said Polly.
"It was really nice to meet you, Polly," Marsh said. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Likewise." Polly gave Jane a quick glance. "It's nice to put a face to the name."
"I think we should get going." Jane steered Marsh out of the door before Polly could
embarrass her with any suggestive comments.
* * * *
The restaurant was only a few minutes' walk from the flat, but in a street she hadn't
yet explored. It looked chic and upmarket, making Jane grateful she'd borrowed something
nice instead of wearing a work dress. She glanced sideways at Marsh. He managed to look
formal, yet relaxed at the same time.
He caught her looking at him and squeezed her hand.
Everything about the meal was perfect. The food, the wine, the candlelight. The
conscious decision not to talk about work meant that they ended up talking about all manner
of things: politics, art, the differences between London and Manchester. Jane was pleased to
find that Marsh kept up with current affairs, something Ashby had never managed to do. Even
better, she and Marsh agreed on a lot of things.
Jane liked the way his face lit up whenever he looked at her. She loved the way her
appearance had struck him speechless; the way he listened to her opinion and considered it
before replying; the way her body responded to his kisses.
The more she spent time with Marsh, the more she realised how Ashby had used her.
To him, she had been a pretty social decoration and not much else. With Marsh, she felt she
had met an intellectual equal. Talking to him made her feel as though she were sparkling.
Before dessert, Jane went to the bathroom to touch up her makeup and check her
phone. Predictably, there was a message from Polly.
* * * *
From: Polly
To: Jane
You were right, he IS gorgeous. And the dress
works. That was EXACTLY the same expression Andy had when he first saw
it. Have a great night. A little jealous. Polly.
##
Jane smiled to herself and turned off her phone. She checked her hair and
twisted a few errant strands together so that they fell more neatly around her
neck. She reapplied her lip gloss.
The wine had given her a slight glow. Her eyes sparkled. She realised that
she was the happiest she'd been in weeks. Contented. As though she'd finally
come home.
* * * *
Text from: Louise
To:
Marshall
Have a good time on your date and
try not to worry about the partner's meeting. Don't do anything Jim wouldn't
do!
Love
Lou x
##
Text from: Marsh
To: Louise phone>
Since there isn't much Jim wouldn't do...
She's amazing
Lou. The world could come to an end this minute and I'd die the happiest man
on it.
M
* * * *
When Jane returned to the table, Marsh was busy texting. She paused before sitting
down and watched. He was frowning slightly and chewing his bottom lip in concentration.
The candlelight cast soft shadows on his face and gave his hair golden highlights. He looked
so handsome and gentle.
With Ashby she had felt merely sexy. With Marsh she felt adored.
Marsh looked up. His face broke into a smile and the dimple appeared. Without
looking away, he turned his phone off and put it in his pocket. By the time Jane had slipped
into her seat, she knew she had his full attention again.
"So, what do you want to do afterwards?" she said, once dessert had arrived.
The look he gave her told her exactly what was on his mind. Flustered, she looked
down at her food.
"We can do anything you want." Marsh reached across the table and took her hand.
"So long as it's not dancing. I can't dance."
Jane laughed and met his eyes. At that moment, she knew she loved him. Completely
and utterly and without question. The realisation took her breath away. Hot on its heels came
a wave of desire.
The gleam in his eyes told her he felt the same.
Ignoring the desserts on the table, Marsh summoned the waiter and signed the check.
They retrieved their coats, moving with barely concealed impatience. When Marsh slipped
her coat over her shoulders, his thumb brushed her cheek, sending a thrill down her
spine.
She climbed the steps up to street level, feeling like she was walking on air. As they
stepped out into the street, Marsh slipped his arm around her waist. He kissed her temple.
"Right now," he whispered, his lips warm against her ear. "I'm the luckiest man in the
world."
Jane raised her face to his so their lips could meet.
Suddenly, there was a flash and the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter. Jane
jumped back, her hand instinctively in front of her face. Marsh's grip seemed to tighten
around her waist as he raised his free arm protectively.
The flash went off again, momentarily blinding her. In that instant, she felt as though
she was back in Manchester, with photographers camping outside the flat, trying to get a
candid shot of her or Ashby. It couldn't be happening again.
Surely they hadn't been stalking her. Perhaps they were just photographing the front
of the restaurant. It was probably nothing to do with her.
A woman stuck a small recorder in front of her face. "Miss Porter, I'm Amber from
Cause Celeb
magazine..."
Jane turned and ran. Marsh followed.
So did the journalist.
"Miss Porter, can you confirm..."
"Go away." Tears blurred her vision. She could see Marsh keeping up with her whilst
trying to flag down a taxi.
"Just a few questions. It'll only take a few minutes."
The flash went off again.
Jane slowed and covered her face with her arm. Across the road, a taxi spotted them
and started to turn round.
Marsh stepped between Jane and the journalist. "She said she doesn't want to talk to
you. Leave her alone."
"And who are you?"
"None of your business."
The taxi drew up. Jane gratefully dived in.
"Where to, mate?" The taxi driver said, just as the photographer took another photo.
He looked at them in his mirror. "Here, are you famous?"
"Just drive, please," said Marsh. He started to give Jane's address.
"Not there," said Jane. "I don't want them to know..."
Marsh gave her a quick glance and asked the driver to take them to Waterloo
station.
They took another cab from Waterloo. Throughout the journey Jane said nothing.
The sound of the camera shutter had reopened a flood of memories. Soon after she and Ashby
split up, she had returned to their flat to retrieve some of her things, only to find that Ashby's
conquest had already been to the tabloids with her story. A photographer had been waiting for
Jane, and her tear streaked face had appeared in a gossip magazine within days.
After that, everywhere she went, she felt hunted by people with cameras. Not just
professionals, but kids who pointed their camera phones as her when she went past. For a
brief time, she was almost as famous as Ashby.
She had fled to London and now it had followed her here. Tears spilled down her
cheeks, and she searched in her bag for a tissue. Marsh, who was still holding her hand, gave
it a squeeze. Jane had forgotten he was there. Concern etched his face. He hadn't asked her
any questions, merely been there for her, but she knew she would have to explain sooner or
later. The thought of it brought fresh tears.
By the time they got back to Polly's building, Jane had stopped crying, but was still
feeling fragile. She had started to explain to Marsh, but hadn't got very far. He put an arm
round her waist as they took the lift up to Polly's flat. She gratefully put her head on his
shoulder.
Rather than hunt through her clutch bag for her keys, Jane knocked. Polly opened the
door. She took in Jane's tear streaked face and looked suspiciously at Marsh. "What's going
on?" She moved aside to let them pass.
"We got accosted by a journalist," he said as he followed Jane in. He quickly
sketched out what had happened outside the restaurant.
Jane kicked off her shoes and sank onto the sofa.
"Oh, Jane," said Polly. "How dreadful for you!"
Marsh cleared his throat. "Why is it dreadful exactly?" He perched on the arm of the
sofa, his coat still on. "I understand it's got something to do with your ex, but...? Unless you
don't want to talk about it, of course," he added quickly. "That's okay."
Polly discretely slipped off to the kitchen, leaving them alone.
Jane could tell he was dying to know. He had been so nice about everything, she felt
she owed him at least an explanation. She told him everything, about Ashby, about the other
women, everything. Marsh listened, his hands clasped in front of him, his face serious.
When she fell silent, he said, "So you think that journalist today had something to do
with the magazine campaign?"
She nodded, unable to speak.
"And your ex is behind all this?"
"Well, either him or his publicist."
"You could sue him for harassment."
"We thought of that," Polly called, from the kitchen. "But that's even more publicity
for him."
Marsh was silent for a moment. Emotions flitted over his face. Finally, he seemed to
reach a decision. "If I ever meet your ex, I'm going to punch him on the nose."
He looked so serious, that Jane had to smile.
"That's better." He leaned forward to kiss her.
Jane sniffed. "I need a tissue. Excuse me a minute." She went to the bathroom,
knowing Marsh was staring after her.
Chapter 21
Mobile Answerphone: You've reached Marsh's phone. Please
leave your name and number and I'll call you back.
Oh Marsh. Buzz
dumped me. He wanted to borrow some more money off me and I said you
wouldn't let me and we had this huge row and it was horrible. He got really
angry and shouted at me and called me names. You were right. He just wanted
money from me.
The tragic part is that I really really liked him, Marsh. I
really did.
I feel like my heart has been torn in two. I'm so miserable. I
don't know what to do.
##
Answerphone:
You've reached Marshall and Stevie's place. We're not
around right now, but leave a message and we'll get right back to
you!
Marsh? Where are you? I've been trying to phone, but your phone's
off. Call me. Please, please.
I don't know what to do. I don't want to see
him again. He scared me.
* * * *
Jane washed her face. Her reflection looked awful. Her mascara was smudged and
her face was puffy from crying. Tears had fallen on Polly's dress and puckered the material.
With the makeup gone, her face looked red and raw, a far cry from how she'd looked at the
start of the date.
Now that the initial shock had worn off, she felt unutterably tired. Although she was
grateful to Marsh for bringing her home, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone. It was
a lousy end to a date. She sighed and headed back into the living room.
Marsh was perched on the arm of the chair with his phone to his ear, still wearing his
coat. As she walked in, he made an exasperated sound and hung up. "No reception," he said as
Polly handed him a cup of coffee.
Marsh looked up and spotted Jane. "Hey. Feeling better?"
Jane tried to smile. "A bit."
"I'll just...go do some stuff," Polly said. "I'll be in my room, if you need me." She
disappeared down the hall.
"I'm going to head off," Marsh said. He set his still-full cup down. "Unless you want
me to stay?"
Feeling guilty about not wanting him around, Jane shook her head. "I'm so
sorry."
"Don't be. You've had a difficult evening. I completely understand."
"Thank you so much, for everything," she said. "I'm sorry I ruined our date."
"That's okay." He took her face in his hands. "I had a good time until those people
popped out of the undergrowth."
"Me too."
His thumb traced the line of her cheek. "You're an incredible woman, Jane. I've never
met anyone like you."
"What, a date who ends up crying all over your shirt and talking about her ex?"
He kissed her, very gently. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She nodded into his hands. For a moment, she thought he was going to say something
else, but he sighed instead and gave her another kiss on the forehead.
After he left, she wished he'd tried to persuade her to let him stay.
Not wanting to talk to Polly, Jane went to her room and lay on her bed. It was all so
unfair. Just as she was getting her life back on track, the ghosts of her past were coming back
to haunt her. How had the magazine journalist and the photographer known she would be at
that restaurant that night?
She hadn't told anyone but Polly. Could Marsh have let the information slip whilst
talking to someone at work? Somehow, she felt that was unlikely. Marsh was more adamant
about keeping work and life separate than she was.