Then the first text I saw. I’ll be waiting. V xx
I put down the phone. I should feel angry, raging, but I don’t. Perhaps that’s telling. I’m not even cross or surprised. There’s a kind of inevitability about it all. I’m sad more than anything. Sad, weary and disappointed. Disappointed in Mason and in myself. I ignored all my instincts, all the warning signs and allowed myself to believe that this was for real when in my heart I knew it was too good to be true that Mason was a reformed character. Turns out I was right.
Chapter Ninety-Three
Quickly, quietly, I get dressed in my Take That T-shirt and jeans. I throw the rest of my clothes into my weekend case. I stuff the concert tickets from the bedside table into my handbag.
I look towards the bathroom door where, inside, Mason is still happily going through his ablutions. Perhaps he’s making sure that his shave is extra close, putting on a splash more after shave, looking forward to tonight’s entertainment. And I don’t mean getting up close and personal with Gary Barlow. Mason has an entirely different form of entertainment on his mind. Well, good luck to him. I won’t be part of it. I’ve had one cheating, shagging, bastard ex, I’ll not have another one.
With only a brief glimpse round the beautiful room, I tiptoe out and close the door behind me.
Out on the street, I hail a cab and, when I’m settled in the back seat, I call Charlie and tell her that I’m on my way to their hotel. It’s only then that I have a good cry.
Chapter Ninety-Four
The cab pulls up at Charlie’s hotel where she and Nice Paul are sitting out at the pavement tables having a beer in the sunshine. I pay the driver and wheel my case over to them.
‘I’m not liking the look of this,’ Charlie says, eyeing my luggage.
I pull up a chair and sit down, then signal to the waiter that I’d like a beer too. In fact, I’d quite like a dozen or more. But, as I don’t know how to say a dozen in French, I settle for one. For now.
When I take off my sunglasses, Charlie adds, ‘You’ve got puffy eyes too.’
There’s no point beating about the bush. ‘Mason was texting another woman to arrange to see her tonight. I caught him out.’
‘Seeing someone here?’
‘Valerie.’ I raise an eyebrow.
Charlie’s eyeballs nearly ping out of her head. ‘Valerie! Her of the …?’
Please don’t tell Nice Paul that I’ve had a threesome, I pray silently.
Charlie realises what she’s about to say and waggles three fingers in a lascivious manner in the air instead. Unless Nice Paul is a complete dunderhead, I’m sure he’ll gather her meaning too.
‘Yes. That Valerie.’ I still blush at the thought of it.
‘Total bastard,’ is Charlie’s verdict.
‘Yeah.’ I can’t really disagree. My beer comes and it goes down without touching the sides. Nice Paul orders us three more.
‘Shall I leave you ladies to talk?’ he asks. ‘I can make myself scarce.’
I shake my head. ‘No. Stay. You’re an honorary girl.’
He laughs. ‘I think that’s a good thing.’
‘Besides, I don’t really want to waste any more breath on Mason Soames. We’re here to have fun and fun we will bloody well have.’
‘So, what’s the plan?’ Charlie asks.
‘We’ll go to the concert, have a lovely time and give this unpleasant little interlude no more thought.’
‘I have to say you’re taking this remarkably calmly.’
‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘I am.’
‘Perhaps it just says that Mason wasn’t the right man for you, after all.’
‘I think that pretty much sums it up.’
‘You’ll stay here tonight,’ Charlie says. ‘I’ve got a double bed in my room. You can bunk up with me.’
‘Thanks.’ Then, as my second beer arrives, my phone rings. Mason. I let it go to voicemail. Then a text comes in from him.
Where ru? Why has all your stuff gone? I’m sure he’ll work it out. Call me.
So we have many beers and enjoy the late afternoon sunshine. After Mason’s third call, I turn the ringer off on my phone, but it continues to vibrate angrily on the table.
Later, I drop my case into Charlie’s room and she says, ‘The T-shirt looks cool.’
‘Thanks.’ I check myself out in the mirror. I look unhappy, so I make my smile wider, brighter. Mason Soames isn’t going to spoil this evening for anyone.
We take the Metro out to the arena where Take That are playing. The crowds are already streaming in when we arrive and the atmosphere is electric.
‘I’m so excited, I could wee.’ Charlie dances with excitement. ‘In fact, maybe I did.’
‘Take these,’ I say and pull our fancy VIP tickets out of my handbag. ‘You’ll appreciate them more than me.’ If Mason had been a nicer person, he’d have got tickets for all four of us, anyway.
Charlie gapes at me. ‘Seriously?’
‘Give me one of your tickets. You might be able to sell the other one at the door.’ Mason’s certainly not going to be needing it. I did wonder whether he’d come down here and try to meet up with us, but there’s no sign of him.
We swap tickets. Charlie stares at Nice Paul before she does a happy dance on the spot. ‘We’re going to meet Gary!’
‘This is great,’ Nice Paul says. ‘But are you sure you don’t want to go with Charlie?’
‘No. You two enjoy yourselves. I’ll be fine.’
He looks as if he can’t believe his luck. ‘Thanks, Ruby.’
‘I’m glad that something good can come out of this.’ I hug them both. ‘I’ll see you back here afterwards. Hit the free champagne and be sure to give Gary a kiss from me.’
Then we disappear our separate ways – Charlie and Nice Paul going for the VIP experience courtesy of Mason and me heading for the cheap seats by myself.
Chapter Ninety-Five