the relationship front, Scarlet?’
‘Well, now that I’m about to be freed from the shackles of my workaholic boss, I intend to make up for my enforced dating celibacy by hitting the bars in the West End and sampling a different cocktail in every single one, starting with your personal favourite – a vodka martini. And you will be perched on the stool next to me, Callie. You haven’t had a date in months. In fact, when was the last time you agreed to go out with a guy?’
‘Oh, you know me. I don’t have time to date. I’m just too busy with…’
‘We’re all busy, Callie. But that’s not it. You always seem to come up with a convenient diagnosis of a fatal flaw in every guy you date. You seem to perform the dating equivalent of an archaeological dig in order to unearth any perceived imperfection that you can hone in on as an excuse not to take things further. Remember Marcus? He was gorgeous – a model, for God’s sake! He could make a bin liner look sexy. He was perfect!’
‘And didn’t he know it,’ muttered Callie.
Scarlet ignored her. ‘And Andrew? The paediatrician? The guy who sent you flowers every day for a month?’
‘Too attentive, too studious, and he talked about having kids the whole time!’ Callie averted her eyes from Scarlet’s stony glare.
‘What about Carter? He was an American footballer! What’s not to like? He flew you to New York for the weekend! You stayed at the Waldorf Astoria!’
‘It rained the whole time.’
‘You know, Callie, I wish I’d had half your opportunities to find “the one”. You’ve got to relax, give someone the chance to get to know you. But there’s something else going on here, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me. What exactly are you searching for?’
Scarlet shook her head slowly, then fixed her eyes on Callie and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘It’s Theo, isn’t it?’
Callie was too exhausted to disguise her emotions from her friend and she could feel her face colour. The look of sadness that washed across Scarlet’s pretty features sent a spasm of irritation into her chest at being sussed so easily.
‘I knew it. You still love Theo, don’t you? After all this time?’
‘No I don’t…’
‘It’s understandable that you still have feelings for him, Cal. You dated him right through high school and university. Hey, and wasn’t he the first guy you kissed when you were, like, twelve or something? But I thought you said you’d moved on?’
‘I have.’
‘So why is your face the same shade as my nail polish?’
‘It’s not. Anyway, Scarlet…’
‘And isn’t Theo’s band playing at Lilac and Finn’s reception? It was a real coup when Finn announced he’d pulled that one off. The Razorclaws will be on tour in Germany at the end of July so they’ve interrupted their schedule as a special favour to Finn. Wasn’t he at music school in Manchester with Theo?’
‘Yes,’ murmured Callie. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights of Scarlet’s examination technique. She hadn’t mentioned the fact that Theo and his band would be playing at the wedding to her friend for exactly this reason. Nothing got past Scarlet.
‘So you’ll get to see him again.’
‘Only if our design wins the competition and that’s by no means a given.’
Callie watched the cogs turn behind Scarlet’s emerald eyes.
‘So there’s a lot more than I thought resting on Callie-Louise Bridal Couture winning this competition.’
‘Look, Scarlet, you know I have no desire to see Theo again. I had to think long and hard about continuing with the entry when it was announced his band would be a part of the wedding arrangements. But I’ve worked my butt off to make it as a fashion designer and I couldn’t let an old relationship stand in the way of achieving my dream. If we do win, yes, I’ll need to be at the ceremony, but Theo won’t be there and my services won’t be required at the evening reception.’
‘So you’re still avoiding him?’
‘No, I just…’
‘Yes, you are. Which means you are not over him.’
‘Scarlet, you know what happened. You know what he did.’
‘Yes, but there are two sides to every argument.’ Scarlet affected an American accent. ‘I’ve heard your submission, Counsellor, now let me consider the case for the opposition.’
‘Oh, no…’ Callie buried her head in her hands and massaged her temples with her fingertips. She didn’t want to hear this right now. She didn’t have the strength to fight back.
‘Let’s see, these are the facts, Your Honour. A rep from a record company was attending one of The Razorclaws’ gigs. It was the most important night of Theo’s life and his girlfriend had promised to be there cheering him on from the wings. Said girlfriend was, once again, so engrossed in fulfilling her own dreams that she was late to the party. The Razorclaws got the contract, the champagne flowed, and they had been celebrating for hours before Theo’s neglectful girlfriend arrived to witness a drunken clinch with an anonymous girl groupie whom he said had thrown herself at him. What was Theo to do, Cal?’
Callie swallowed down her agony. Every time his name was mentioned it surprised her that the pain was still so raw and near the surface three years later. After that fateful night, she had escaped back to London and used the money her parents had left her to set up Callie-Louise Bridal Couture. She’d refused every one of Theo’s calls and made her Aunt Hannah, who had brought her up after her parents’ death, and her best friend, Nessa, swear they wouldn’t disclose her new address to Theo.
She had never thought she could experience such a kaleidoscope of emotions. Theo had always been there for her. He knew every detail of her history; they’d shared the same highs and lows, the same friends, the same dreams, or so she’d thought. When she was thirteen, Theo had borrowed his father’s spade and dug up one of his mother’s prize rose bushes. He’d raced round to collect her from her aunt’s house and dragged her to the local churchyard where he proceeded to plant the white rose bush next to the headstone of her parents’ grave. When she was fourteen, Theo had kissed her under the canopy of the old oak tree in the garden behind her Aunt Hannah’s haberdashery shop, Gingerberry Yarns, and then he’d carved her initials into the knobbly trunk. The entwined initials ‘CLH’ had, years later, become the logo for her bridal boutique. She had loved him and it still hurt a great deal that he was no longer in her life.
But he’d never understood her need to sever the rural guy ropes and branch out on her own, to forge a life for herself away from the Dales. She had been so adamant about her desire to leave Allthorpe that she had expected Theo to share her ambition, with the clamorous draw of city music venues proving too tempting to refuse. But refuse he had. He remained at home with his parents and insisted on commuting to his degree course in Manchester, crashing at his friends’ digs when he had to. He had also remained loyal to their childhood friends – four of them made up his band – but whom, apart from Nessa, she’d not seen for years. Tears always gathered on her lashes whenever she recalled the nights they had spent together in Archie’s parents’ garage, jamming and tossing around suggestions of what to call the band. The Razorclaws had been an amalgamation of Theo’s suggestion of The Northern Claws and hers of The Razors.
The three years she’d spent studying at Northumbria University’s prestigious School of Fashion and Textiles had been the best years of her life. She’d loved the people, the nightlife, the restaurants, the theatres, the fashion opportunities, even the football club. She had emerged from her time