Freya North 3-Book Collection: Love Rules, Home Truths, Pillow Talk

Thea, however, snorted almost derisively. ‘Don’t be daft,’ she said, ‘they’re just “helpful hands” – if you want truly healing hands, you want to have Reiki with Maria. Or Souki’s acupuncture. Or have Lars tutor you in the basics of Feldenkrais. My massage is more a satisfying after-dinner mint to the main course served by the other practitioners.’

‘Would you just give yourself some bloody credit, girl,’ Alice said, almost angrily. ‘You didn’t see the look on your last client’s face. Blissed-out is an understatement.’

‘I didn’t need to,’ Thea shrugged, ‘I felt his back say thank you all by itself.’

‘Can I make one tiny suggestion?’ Alice asked. ‘Ditch the plinky-plinky rainforest music in reception. It made me want to yell and wee simultaneously.’

Later that night, Thea sat up in bed, flicked on the bedside light and looked at the clock. It was in fact the early hours of the next day. She couldn’t sleep and she knew the worst place to be was her bed. She pulled on her fleece dressing gown and padded out of the room. The brutal change from soft carpet to cold floor tiles still unnerved her though she’d lived with it for four years. By the time she reached her small kitchen – a matter of only a few steps – her feet had acclimatized to the tiles. She made a cup of tea and went through to the sitting room and the comfort of carpet once more. Her mother liked to say that the flat was placed around a sixpence and it made her quite dizzy. The perpetually cold central hallway, small indeed and basically circular, was the hub off which the other rooms radiated. The bedroom, the kitchen, the sitting room, the bathroom. Standing in the hallway with all the other doors shut and surrounding you was a slightly disorientating experience. But Thea loved it. ‘It’s my little slice of Lewis Carroll Living,’ she’d proclaimed to her mother when begging her for a loan for her deposit. Viewed from the pavement, the side of the building where Thea’s flat was located was a turreted, cylindrical add-on to an otherwise unremarkable Victorian exterior.

‘A satisfying expression of Gothick-with-a-k,’ Thea’s usually serious and conservative older brother had declared with surprising approval, ‘don’t you think so, Alice?’

‘I reckon your sister just wants her Rapunzel moment!’ Alice had said.

Thea scrunched her toes into her shaggy rug and sat down, hugging her knees. She didn’t drink the tea – the ritual of making it and cupping her hands around it had been the thing. She saw her mobile phone on the sofa and reached for it. It was on and a text message was unopened.

u r happy 4 me?!! Say u r!! xxx

course I am!!! Thea replied. brill news – u deserve hap-ev-aft! Xxx

Though Alice’s news was undoubtedly brilliant, Thea was still somewhat overwhelmed by the shock of it. She thought back to Alice linking arms with her and hauling her off to Blandford Street for sushi.

Guess what!

What?

You’ll never guess!

What?

Guess!

What? Don’t tell me! Don’t tell me! That bloke from your ad agency?

I’m getting married!

That bloke from your ad agency?

No, silly. No! Mark Sinclair!

Mark Sinclair?

Yes!

Mark Sinclair?

Yes! Yes!

Mark Sinclair?

Yes, Thea, Mark Sinclair!

Does he know?

Alice hadn’t met someone. She’d found someone. Those had been her words and she was effervescing with excitement, exclamation marks now peppering her speech.

‘I found someone! I’m getting married. Fucking hell! Can you believe it! I’ve found someone!’

Initially Thea was gobsmacked into jaw-dropped silence but Alice’s animation was infectious. Though baffled by the simple facts that Alice was now engaged, that Mark Sinclair was fiancé, and though stunned by the speed of it all, Thea soon spun into Alice’s excitement. She sketched wedding-dress possibilities on serviettes while Alice, flushed and gesticulating, re-enacted the entire proposal before launching into list-making.

‘You know what? I can’t believe I didn’t think of him earlier. I mean, I’ve known him for ever! I’ve always loved him. Because he’s always always been there for me.’

Thea agreed. Mark Sinclair had always always been there. She knew him, of course, without really knowing him at all. The lovely guy who always made Alice feel better, who had always been there for her when some cad or other had done her wrong. With hindsight, Thea recalled the gaze he’d bestowed on Alice now and then over the years which, at the time, she’d interpreted as brotherly affection. After all, it was Mark who had shared with Thea the job of looking after Alice when some Lothario had broken her heart again. Mark who had gladly taken Alice out to lovely restaurants or opening nights at the theatre when she was without a date and down in the doldrums. Mark who’d been at the other end of the phone as Alice’s late-night insecurity guard. Mark who assured Alice that not all men were bastards, that there were fish in the sea aplenty and she was the prize catch. Thea had been grateful to him for this. Without ever really having had the forum to tell him so. Well, she could now. Here was one man she’d never have to take to one side to threaten that if he hurt her friend she’d kill him. He was the absolute antithesis of Alice’s previous pick. That’s why it was such a shock. Such a revelation.

And yet it made sense. Since breaking up with Bill, Alice had indeed had a quiet, sometimes pensive few months. Maybe she had made a conscientious decision to practise what she published. Perhaps it really was as easy as reassessing her wish list. Blinking and seeing that the man to marry was standing right in front of her. Learning it’s not who you love, it’s how.

‘But how long have you been seeing him? I mean, how come I didn’t know you’ve even been seeing him?’

‘Two weeks. Don’t shout at me, Thea!’

‘Two weeks? And now you’re engaged?’

‘Be happy for me – or you can’t be bridesmaid.’

‘Of course I’m happy for you, idiot. Ecstatic. I’m just shocked. Two weeks?’

‘He’s perfect. What was the point of waiting? Kind, considerate, calm – there are no safer hands in the world for handling me.’

‘Are you madly in love with him? With Mark Sinclair?’

Alice looked at Thea. ‘You do know that feeling of “madly in love” is merely phenylethylamine, Thea?’ Alice said with a sigh. ‘It’s just a natural amphetamine – which is why it’s addictive. It’s the same hormone that’s released during high-risk sports and eating chocolate.’

‘Whatever,’ said Thea, ‘but you need to be in love with someone to actually marry them.’

‘So fiction and films would have us believe,’ Alice said. ‘There’s more to marriage than being head over heels. In fact, my feet are firmly rooted and my head is now out of the clouds and firmly on my shoulders – that’s why I know it’s going to work. I’m ready for this.’

‘And you do love him,’ Thea said.

‘Everyone loves Mark,’ Alice smiled, ‘he’s one of life’s good guys.’

‘And you love him,’ said Thea.

‘I’m the love of his life. And he’s my love for life. That’s why we’re marrying. What more could I ask for?’

Now, contemplating quietly in the conducive early hours, Thea likened it to Alice having a good tidy-up and coming across something she’d forgotten all about. Like something never worn, bought on impulse, never even tried on, pushed to the back of a cupboard, then rediscovered. A perfect fit, it transpired. A delightful surprise. What disconcerted Thea was that she hadn’t ever thought that when Alice did her tidy-up, she’d find Mark. What unnerved her most – and she could now admit it in the silence and privacy of her space – was that she was actually slightly taken aback. Alice had brought Thea the best news in the world. But for the first time in their friendship, she’d done so without the need to ask Thea’s advice or seek her opinion first.

Mark Sinclair (#ulink_ce5acace-5a8e-5c9a-b7f5-abb3222436b5)

Mark Sinclair had an aptitude for diplomacy and an instinct for manners. They hadn’t been drilled into him at home, he hadn’t learnt them at school or been trained in them after university. They were simply part of his personality and throughout his thirty-two years they had won him friends and influence. These qualities, combined with a head for figures and a heart with a strong work ethic, saw his rapid promotion through the hierarchies at ADS Internationale for whom he worked as an investment analyst. He was invaluable to them. He could speak languages, keep calm under the pressure of City finance, didn’t get drunk over business lunches, never fell out with colleagues or associates, travelled uncomplainingly and trained his immediate team into an efficient, likeable unit. The company had no need to incentivize him and every reason to reward him which they did, handsomely.