Winter's Fairytale

Mags was again putting forward her case for why I should call the Italian restaurant bloke, after he’d made a point of handing me a business card with his mobile number written on the back. She was right. There were definite benefits. And the guy seemed nice, and was certainly attractive. So what was the problem? Why didn’t I just go for it? Embrace the joys of being a single woman in the heady metropolis of London? Honestly, I couldn’t give her a reason. Instead I tucked my arm around hers and pulled her closer under the umbrella. The snow that had been gently fluttering down earlier had become heavier whilst we’d been devouring our delicious Italian nibbles.

‘He was gorgeous!’ She tried again.

‘I know, I know. I just don’t feel I’m ready to get back on that particular horse yet.’

Mags raised her eyebrows, pondering the connotations of what I just said.

I pulled a face. ‘You know what I mean.’

She sighed. ‘I do.’ She squeezed my arm with hers, ‘I just don’t want you to miss out on anything. But you’re right. You need to do it when you’re ready.’

I hugged her back. ‘Thanks. And I’m sorry about the free food.’

She laughed. ‘I’ll get over it. Probably better for my waistline this way anyway. Oh! There’s my bus. Are you sure you’re ok from here?’

‘Positive. I’m just going to nip in and pick something up from the studio, then go home. Here, take this,’ I said, handing her the umbrella, ‘I’ve got a spare one at work.’

‘Ok, thanks! Love you! Text me later.’ She gave me a quick hug and rushed off in the direction of the stop.

I sheltered under a shop’s overhang and watched to make sure she caught the bus, before turning down the road where my studio resided, the snow inflicting sharp little pinpricks on my cheeks. The silver bells I’d hung tinkled as I unlocked the front door and pushed it open. The notes I wanted were sat on my desk. I grabbed them and put the file in my bag. One of my current brides had some really interesting ideas and I wanted to try sketching out a few designs over the weekend. They were predicting heavy snow, even in the city, so staying in and keeping warm seemed like a good plan. Going back to the door, I lifted the spare umbrella from the coat rack, and stepped outside, the cold wind immediately whipping at my face. I turned the top lock, threw the deadlock, and dropped the keys into my bag before adjusting my scarf a little higher around my neck. The wind was picking up. The spare brolly I’d grabbed wasn’t going to last five minutes. It was just going to be a case of moving as fast as possible to the tube station. Belting my coat securely, ready for the headwind I was about to face, I turned back to the street, and came face to face with Rob.

‘Shit!’ I exclaimed, stumbling back a step and bumping into the door. The snow was settling faster now and beginning to muffle the noise of the city. Including footsteps, apparently.

Rob quickly reached forward, steadying me. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.’

‘I tend to do that when people creep up behind me!’ I snapped, heart still pounding.

‘I wasn’t creeping up on you, Izzy. I just got here and was about to say hello when you turned around.’

I cast my glance up the street to where strings of themed Christmas lights shimmered through the snowflakes. In fact I was looking everywhere but at Rob. I hadn’t seen him since he’d gone out to make the speech at the church. I’d taken the opportunity of the distraction to exit via the side door and grab the first taxi I saw.

When I didn’t say anything, Rob spoke again. ‘I had a meeting with a client…’ He indicated further down the road, explaining his presence in the area.

I nodded without looking at him.

‘How are you?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine. Thank you. You?’

‘Yep. Fine. Thanks.’

I waited, feeling cold and uncomfortable. ‘What do you want, Rob?’

‘To talk to you.’

‘About what?’

Rob let out a sigh and tipped his head forward. Little flurries of snow had settled on his hair, the intense blackness of it highlighting their sparkle. He shook his head gently and they disappeared. A resigned smile was on his lips as he looked back up at me.

‘I thought we were friends.’

‘You were Steven’s best man, not mine.’ I pointed out.

‘Only because you never asked me to be a bridesmaid.’

‘The shoes didn’t come in a size twelve.’

‘Well, at least you checked before discounting me.’

I finally smiled at him. Once again, he was attuned to the horrible awkwardness I was feeling and doing his best to dissipate it. Although, to be fair, the only reason I was feeling awkward was because he was standing there. So, technically, it was his fault anyway. But I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever. He was right. We were friends. Yes, Steven had introduced us, but we’d also become friends in our own right. Not close as such, but friends all the same. Until the wedding day. For some reason, I’d suddenly felt like there were sides. And Rob, with his best man title, automatically fell on Steven’s side. I knew in my heart that wasn’t fair – on him, or me, or our friendship. But it just sort of happened and the longer I went without speaking to him, the harder it got to get over the awkwardness that I knew would arise. And here I was, six months later, feeling awkward as hell.

‘Izzy, please. Can we just go for a drink, and talk?’

I shook my head, noticing that the dampness of the air was beginning to put the curl back into my carefully straightened hair.

‘Is there anything to say?’ I asked, looking directly at him for the first time since he’d turned up. Big mistake. The hurt in his eyes stabbed at my insides. He quickly covered it with a crooked smile.

‘If you have to ask, then no. I don’t suppose there is.’ He turned up the collar of his dark grey wool coat a little more, as the wind picked up again and funnelled itself down the street, ‘Come on, I’ll walk you to the tube.’

‘That’s all right. I… um… haven’t quite finished here, and–’

‘Izzy, for God’s sake!’

I snapped my head up. I’d never once seen Rob angry. He was so laidback, normally being in his company was like a hit of Valium – in a good way. But not tonight. Tonight it seemed I had managed to push the right button.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ he asked.

‘Nothing’s wrong with me!’

‘Then why are you being like this?’

‘Like what, exactly?’

‘Ignoring my calls, my texts. Just generally refusing to speak to me at all and looking at me like you’d wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole! It wasn’t me that left you at the altar, Izz, and I’m damned if I’m going to take the blame for it!’

Silence settled between us. And then, to my utter horror – and apparently Rob’s, judging by the look on his face – I started to cry.

‘Oh no, no no!’ Within a moment, Rob had moved and wrapped his arms around me.

‘Izzy, please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

I gave a reply to say that it wasn’t his fault, I didn’t mean to cry and that I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. That’s how the reply sounded in my head anyway. All that actually came out was a gurgle-y, mumble-y sort of noise.

‘Come on. Let’s get you out of this cold.’

Rob scanned the street and saw a black cab with its light on. He curled his lips and emitted a loud whistle, sticking his hand out to signal the taxi. Seeing the cab turn towards us, he replaced his arm, the warmth of him flooding against me again.

‘I don’t need a cab to the station. It’s not far.’ I said. I knew money wasn’t an issue for Rob, and there was no way he was going to let me pay, but still, I’d been brought up not to waste money. With the traffic crawling even more than usual thanks to the weather, I could probably walk there quicker to get my train anyway.