Don't Go Breaking My Heart: Break Up to Make Up / Always the Best Man

‘Yes.’

‘So, are we going up Friday or Saturday?’

She bit her lip. An extra day with Nick was going to be difficult, but it might be the last time she got to see her in-laws. A family dinner sounded wonderful.

‘I can do Friday.’

She heard him exhale. ‘That’s great. We’re going to have to leave early, though.’

‘How early?’

‘Dunno. Haven’t settled on a time yet.’

Typical. He hadn’t thought about this at all.

‘Well, what time is the dinner?’

‘Hang on a second—Mum rang me with all the details. I just need to find them.’

The phone at his end clattered onto a hard surface and she heard a rustling noise. It must have driven Maggie mad not to send him a little card with all the details in it, just in case he forgot. Honestly, she’d put little notes in his packed-lunch box if she could.

‘OK,’ he said, sounding slightly breathless. ‘It starts at eight.’

‘Let’s aim to get there for six at the latest. It should give us a bit of time to stretch our legs and freshen up. How long will it take us?’

‘Debbie says it takes her nine hours, but she’s about an hour closer, so I’d suggest we leave at eight.’

‘Let’s make it seven. We’ve got the M25 to deal with.’

Nick groaned.

‘What time are you picking me up, then?’ Adele asked.

Silence for a few seconds.

‘You’ve got the car, Adele. I didn’t sneak one back into the country in my hand luggage, you know.’

Adele closed her eyes and dropped onto the sofa. ‘So, not only am I going to be stuck in a car with you for eleven hours, I’m going to have to do the driving as well?’

‘We can share. I’ll let you do the first leg.’

‘Gee, thanks.’ She opened her eyes and gave the ceiling a long, hard look. ‘You’d better tell me Craig’s address. I want you standing on the doorstep at seven o’clock sharp or I’m driving away without you.’

Now who was sounding like his mother?

‘Whatever you say.’

Adele just knew he was doing a little cocky smirk at the phone. Her lips curled into a smile anyway.

Impossible. The man was impossible.

If it weren’t the crack of dawn, Adele would’ve been leaning on the horn with all her weight. It was bad enough she’d ended up as chauffeur, without being made to wait around in her car in sub-zero temperatures. The heater was a bit dodgy and would only produce something approaching warmth once her foot was near the floor.

The clock on the dashboard ticked. Seven minutes past seven. He had until ten past and then she was aborting the mission.

She shook her head. Aborting the mission. What kind of phrase was that? She was starting to sound more and more like Mona with each passing day. Anyone would think this was some kind of military operation.

Adele jabbed the radio on with a gloved finger.

Maybe she was on to something.

Maybe if she treated this like a campaign she might emerge, if not triumphant, at least with her heart and her dignity intact. She couldn’t let Nick worm his way past her defences this time. If she failed, and had to pick up the pieces afterwards, there wouldn’t be enough bits left over to glue back together to make a whole Adele. She’d never be the same.

The only problem was she knew nothing about warfare. Only a few jumbled phrases from World War Two movies and things her rather stern grandfather had used to say.

Know your enemy.

Well, that was easy enough. She knew Nick inside out. Didn’t help much, though. The more she thought about him the more she seemed to turn to mush. And this soldier wasn’t going to do mush, thank you very much.

Always keep the element of surprise.

Adele smiled and stroked the steering wheel, a smile widening across her cheeks. Nick was going to go mad when he saw the car. She smothered a giggle with her hand and the fluff of the angora glove tickled her lips.

It was about time Nick had a taste of his own medicine. She rubbed her hands together. So, this was what it felt like to be bad. The scary thing was, it felt kind of good.

The second hand of the clock juddered towards the twelve. It was nine minutes past seven…and forty seconds…and forty-five seconds. Adele turned the key in the ignition.

True to form, Nick burst from the front door of the flat with a holdall and a small backpack. He hadn’t spotted her yet. A stocky guy with red hair handed Nick what looked like a sports bag. Nick clapped him on the back and smiled.

Then the smile dropped off Adele’s face. Something blonde and skinny ran from inside, flung its arms round Nick’s neck and plastered a big kiss on his cheek. Adele growled then suddenly stopped, surprised at herself.

A few seconds later her soon-to-be-ex-husband was down the garden path and looking up and down the street. Adele wound down her window and waved. Nick waved back—and then did a double-take.

She grimaced. He was striding this way and he didn’t look very happy.

‘Adele! What have you done with the car?’

‘Shhh! It’s seven o’clock in the morning.’

‘I know what blooming time it is. I want to know what you’ve done with my car!’

‘Our car—and I sold it.’

‘You…you…’ He looked heavenwards then pressed his lips together and shook his head. She flinched as he opened the boot and threw his bags inside. One of them jangled, which was a bit odd, but she didn’t stop to think about it. She had more pressing matters holding her attention.

Nick got in the passenger seat, slammed the door closed and turned to face her.

‘Well?’