Build a Man Page 26

  “Oh? Well, it’s a small place, here. We might be able to help. What’s the name?” The woman peers at me.

  “For goodness’ sake, Bronwyn,” the other woman says. “Let her in. It’s freezing.”

  I’m ushered inside and before I know it, Bronwyn's poured me a cup of tea from a Thermos. “So who are you looking for, dear?”

  I take a sip of hot liquid, warming my hands around the mug. “His name’s Jeremy. Jeremy Ritchie. I think he converted an old barn around here.”

  “Ah.” Bronwyn taps the side of her head with a finger. “Jeremy Ritchie. The name does ring a bell.”

  I stare, my insides about to explode.

  “Mary,” she calls to the other woman bustling behind the counter. “Do you know someone called Jeremy Ritchie?”

  Mary nods. “Isn’t he the one who took over the Jones’s barn? Just up the hill there?” She waves a hand behind us.

  “Yes, I think that might be him. Fastest way to get there is to leave your car here. Go across the river on the footbridge, then follow the track up the side of the hill. You’ll come to an old farmstead. Your man’s in the barn, not the big house. Mind you don’t disturb Mrs Jones.”

  “Great. Thank you so much.” My heart’s pounding and I don’t even look back as I race out the door and along a small river track until I come to a narrow bridge. I thump across it, ignoring the curious looks from locals with walking sticks out with their dogs. My breath’s coming fast and my chest burns, but I can’t stop. Not until I find Jeremy.

  I push between trees clogging the narrow path, not even flinching as snowy branches slap my face. Up ahead, the track merges with a gravel road, leading to a wooden gate. I unlatch the gate and gulp in some air, crunching across loose stones toward a clearing. A large wooden barn nestles under snow-covered trees. Further down, there’s an old farmhouse, smoke curling from its chimney.

  I take a few steps toward the barn, then stop stock-still in the middle of the clearing. Just there, behind those walls, is the man I’ve been searching for. Now that I’m so close, I almost want to stay in this limbo state between happy reunion and rejection.

  But I didn’t come all the way to Wales to chicken out now. Moving toward the barn, my legs churn faster and faster as I get closer, so that I’m almost running by the time I reach the door. I grab the iron knocker and rap it hard.

  Silence.

  I knock again, even louder. It’s a big barn. Maybe Jeremy’s in another part of it. Or maybe he’s sleeping.

  Still silence.

  Right, well, he could be having mobility issues. The doctors did say it might take time to fully recover. I’ll just wait, be patient. The last thing I want is to annoy him by rapping again if he’s on his way. I sag against the door, breathing in the fresh scent of the wood.

  Five minutes later, I’ve had my fill of pine, and there’s neither sight nor sound of Jeremy. But I will not be defeated. He must be here. Pushing away from the door, I round the corner of the barn and peer through a window. I can’t see anything in the dim light inside. Maybe he’s popped out for a second, to get some . . . coffee or something. Although God knows where you’d pop out to get coffee in these parts.

  I tramp around to the back of the barn, where a small stream tinkles through ice-covered tree roots. Sinking down onto a bench, my shoulders lift in a sigh. I’ll just hang out here for a while. Jeremy will have to come home sooner or later.

  “Hey! You!”

  My head snaps up. An angry woman in rubber boots is dragging a large German Shepherd toward me.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks. “This is private property.”

  “Oh!” I scramble to my feet. “Sorry. I was just waiting for Jeremy Ritchie. I’m a friend of his.” I hope.

  Her face softens slightly. “Ah. Well, you’ve a long wait. He’s gone. Left early this morning.”

  My heart drops. “Gone? Do you know where?”

  The woman shakes her head, yanking the chain as the German Shepherd tugs on it. “Sit down, Judas.” The dog whines. “No idea. Just packed up the car with his things and left. Poor lad. Been through so much lately.”

  My ears perk up, and I scan her face for any sign of how Jeremy is now. “Is he all right?”

  She gives me a suspicious look. “Thought you said you were a friend.”

  “I am, it’s just . . .” My voice fades away.

  “Go on, now,” the woman says, advancing on me. “Before I call the police.” As if on cue, Judas gives a low growl, baring his teeth.

  I hold up my hands and back away, eying the fierce dog and the even fiercer woman. “Okay, okay. If you do see him, can you tell him Serenity stopped by?”

  The woman snorts, and Judas lets out a volley of barks.

  “Guess that’s a no,” I mutter, quickening my steps around the side of the barn and back onto the track. It’s raining now, and clumps of sodden snow plop off the trees. One lands with a giant splodge right on my head, dripping down the side of my face. I don’t even bother wiping it away, and the liquid mingles with the tears spilling from my eyes.

  That’s it, then. Jeremy’s not here. And by the sound of things, he won’t be back for a while – there’s no point waiting. I pull my sodden coat around me and squish back across the footbridge, cold seeping into my boots with every step I take.

  “Find your man?” Bronwyn sticks her head out the door of the still-deserted visitor centre as I pass.

  I try to return her friendly smile, but the corners of my mouth refuse to budge. “No.”

  I’m beginning to think I never will.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The drive back to London is endless. I sit in the car for hours, caught in traffic jams as far as the eye can see. My damp clothes cling to me, and even though I have the heating on high, I still feel cold and shivery. Nothing can reach the pit of ice forming inside – the little knot of fear that I’ll never find Jeremy; never be able to tell him how I feel. Several times I reach for the phone to call Kirsty before remembering it’s still in the lounge, on the charger. Being cut off gives me a strange feeling, like I’m in my own little cocoon of time and space.

  It’s dark when I finally head out of the Baker Street Tube after dropping off the rental car. The rain has stopped, but everything is damp and frigid. Christmas lights on the houses lining the street reflect on the wet pavement. All around me, people hurry home, carrying shopping bags and packages. Despite the rain, the air is festive – making me feel even more isolated.

  Tiredness seeps through my bones with every step as I drag my aching body down the street and open the door to Kirsty’s. Kirsty and Tim’s voices drift down from the bedroom upstairs.

  “I’m back!” I shout, dropping my bag in the hall and rounding the corner to the lounge.

  I freeze.

  There, on the sofa in front of me, is the man I’ve been waiting – longing – to hear from.

  “Jeremy?” I breathe, unable to believe my eyes. His cheeks are hollow and he’s lost some weight, but it’s him.

  He smiles, and my heart leaps when I see that his face is back to normal. “Yes.”

  I take a small step toward him, almost afraid he’s a mirage that will disappear. “What are you doing here?” My brain spins frantically, trying to work it out.

  Jeremy fixes me with those green eyes and my heart starts galloping. “I didn’t think I’d ever want to see you again, you know.”

  A stab of pain hits me, so intense I can barely stay standing.

  “When the hospital told me about the column and I figured out what you’d been up to . . .” His voice trails off. “Well, I wanted to put as much time and distance between us as possible.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jeremy.” My mouth is dry with fear and my voice cracks. “I’m sorry I lied. I never thought it would hurt you – it was all supposed to be anonymous. But then my editor revealed who you were, and, well . . .” I wince as my stomach twists with guilt and regret.

  “I know
you tried to protect me,” Jeremy says, eyes softening. “Kirsty told me everything.”

  “But how–”

  “I was at a rehab unit for a few weeks in Newport. They released me as an outpatient once I was well enough to get by without help. I couldn’t face going back to London, with everything that happened here. So I went to my place in Tintern. I just wanted to be on my own.”

  Tears fill my eyes as I imagine him there alone. “I’m so sorry, Jeremy. I’m sorry I pushed you to have that surgery.”

  “I wanted to be angry with you, Serenity; to blame someone for what happened to me. When I found out you lied, it gave me the perfect excuse. I didn’t want to hear any explanation. I didn’t think there could be anything to justify what you’d done, so I blocked your number.” He sighs. “The truth is, I was mainly angry at me – that’s why I couldn’t bring myself to report you to the hospital. You weren’t honest, sure, and you encouraged me to go through with the operation. But none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been on-board with the makeover. I was the one who made the decision. Not you.”

  We hold each other’s gaze, tears dripping down my cheeks as the icy coldness inside me begins to thaw.

  “But I realised that I missed you, despite everything.” Jeremy drops his head, then meets my eyes again. “No, more than just missing you.”

  I nod, unable to push any words past the lump in my throat as a volcano of happiness erupts in my belly.

  Jeremy smiles gently at me. “So I called the clinic yesterday. I had a whole story made up about aftercare treatment, but I just wanted to talk to you. See how you were.” His cheeks flush. “And then when the woman who answered told me you were no longer working there, I tried your mobile.” He gestures to the corner, where it’s still plugged in. “I called and called, but you didn’t answer. So I came down to London.”

  A slow smile tugs at my lips as the heat within me rises.

  “Kirsty finally answered your phone and told me everything – about you and Doctor Lycett, the tabloid, your new job. She said you’d gone to Wales to find me, and I came here to wait for you.”

  I take another step closer, my smile growing wider. “I’ve been trying to find you, to get in touch for ages. Because” – I swallow hard – “because, I really need to tell you . . .” My voice fades as I try to get the words out, to let him know how I feel. Now that Jeremy’s here in front of me, everything seems to be stuck inside. Everything except for the bright flame burning in my chest, happiness streaming from every pore of my body.

  Jeremy lifts a hand in the air to stop my halting explanation and struggles to his feet. My eyes widen as I notice the metal cane he’s leaning on. I almost move to help him before I see the determination in his eyes. He takes a few shaky steps then I practically fly toward him, closing the gap between us until we’re face to face.

  I lift a hand to his stubbly cheek and trace those little lines by the side of his eye, and all of a sudden, we’re kissing. Jeremy’s cane clanks onto the floor as he slides his arms around me, pulling me tightly against him. His lips are just as soft as I imagined, and his heart thuds away against mine.

  I wind my arms around his neck and breathe in the spicy scent, then pull back for a second to look at his face again.

  ‘What?’ he asks, brow crinkling.

  I shake my head, grinning so hard my face aches. I know things won’t be easy, that the road ahead will be full of twists and turns. That Jeremy still has a long way to recovery; that I’ll need to work hard at my new job to be successful. In my future, there won’t be any glitz, and there definitely won’t be glamour. Nothing will be perfect – not by a long shot.

  But you know what?

  That’s just the way I want it.

  THE END

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  COMING IN 2012

  Construct a Couple

  With a great new job at a reputable magazine and a man who’s the perfect match, Serenity Holland thinks she’s laid the foundation for an ideal London life. When a routine fact-checking assignment uncovers shocking corruption threatening her boyfriend’s struggling company, Serenity decides to take matters into her own hands – coming up with a plan to set the world to rights, not to mention saving her boyfriend’s business and furthering her own career. Soon, though, Serenity realises her scheme might make her a star reporter, but it could also destroy everything else she’s worked so hard to build.

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  ALSO BY TALLI ROLAND

  The Hating Game

  When Mattie Johns agrees to star on a dating game show to save her ailing recruitment business, she's confident she'll sail through to the end without letting down the perma-guard she's perfected from years of her love 'em and leave 'em dating strategy. After all, what can go wrong with dating a few losers and hanging out long enough to pick up a juicy £200,000 prize? Plenty, Mattie discovers, when it's revealed that the contestants are four of her very unhappy exes. Can Mattie confront her past to get the prize money she so desperately needs, or will her exes finally wreak their long-awaited revenge? And what about the ambitious TV producer whose career depends on stopping her from making it to the end?

  I thought The Hating Game was incredibly well written . . . I really found myself blown away with Talli’s debut novel. She’s a fantastic story-teller and I really can’t wait to see what’s next from Talli. She could become a huge Chick Lit star, there’s no denying it.

  Chick Lit Reviews

  The Hating Game is a wryly observed take on reality TV and the numerous twists and manipulations that take place had me gripped but there is also a wonderfully romantic story running underneath which had me rooting for Mattie to come out as a winner. This is chick lit with attitude and I loved it!

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  For Willow Watts, life has settled into a predictably dull routine: days behind the counter at her father's antique shop and nights watching TV, as the pension-aged residents of Britain's Ugliest Village bed down for yet another early night. But everything changes when a YouTube video of Willow's epically embarrassing Marilyn Monroe impersonation gets millions of hits after a viewer spots Marilyn's ghostly image in a frame. Instantly, Willow's town is overrun with fans flocking to see the 'new Marilyn'. Egged on by the villagers – whose shops and businesses are cashing in – Willow embraces her new identity, dying her hair platinum and ramming herself full of cakes to achieve Marilyn's legendary curves. But when a former flame returns seeking the old Willow, Willow must decide: can she risk her stardom and her village's newfound fortune on love, or is being Marilyn her ticket to happiness?

  Watching Willow Watts is made up of a bevy of fun and interesting characters, which made this book interesting to read throughout. Light-hearted, humorous, and a sweet happy ending made me a happy reader!

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Talli Roland has three loves in her life: romantic comedies, coffee, and wine. She lives in London, on a street with two Starbucks and (at last count) three other cafés that constantly tempt her outside her cosy little flat. She has a secret crush on Lord Sugar of The Apprentice and if she was forced to wax anyone's hairy chest, it would have to be Simon Cowell. Clearly she watches too much reality television. Despite training as a journalist, Talli soon found she preferred making up her own stories – complete with happy endings. To learn more Talli, go to her website, follow her on Twitter, or check out her blog.

  ld a Man