Winter's Fairytale. Maxine Morrey
Get that inside you and–’ He stopped as he caught a glance at my face, ‘Are you all right? You’ve gone really pale. Look, take this,’ he leant across, pulled a soft blanket from the other sofa and laid it around my shoulders, ‘Do you feel sick, or feverish? I’ve got a mate who’s a doctor. He only lives round the corner, I can give him–’
‘Rob, I’m fine.’ I said, although I didn’t shrug off the blanket. It was so beautifully soft and snuggly.
The look on his face showed he doubted my self-diagnosis and he placed the back of his hand on my forehead.
‘You don’t seem to have a temperature.’ he noted, his voice still sounding doubtful.
‘I don’t. I’m fine.’ I said, picking up one of the mugs from the table.
‘Then why do you look terrible?’
I looked up from my drink. ‘Gee, thanks!’ I laughed, ‘You certainly know how to make a girl feel good!’
Rob tilted his head and pulled a face. ‘You know what I mean. Although your colour does seem to be coming back a little now. Are you sure you’re all right?’
I set my drink back on its coaster and turned to face him. ‘Rob. I’m sorry.’
Confusion clouded his face.
‘For?’ he asked.
I took a deep breath. ‘Well, let’s see. For punching you on the nose–’
‘You already apologised for that at the time,’ he interrupted.
‘Yes, but I didn’t apologise for actually breaking it.’
‘To be fair, you didn’t know you had broken it.’
‘So it’s true? I did break it?’ I replied, a little horrified. I was still secretly hoping Mags had got her facts skewed on this. I don’t know why I thought not breaking his nose was any better than breaking it. I’d still punched him, for goodness’ sake. But in my own little twisted mess of logic, it made a semblance of sense.
‘You did.’
‘Oh my God.’ I covered my face with my hands, shame and embarrassment flooding over me again.
Rob laughed and gave me a quick squeeze around the shoulders. ‘Don’t even think about it, Izz. I’ve been playing rugby since I was six years old. It’s not the first time it’s been broken. I doubt it’ll be the last, either.’
I dropped my hands down to my lap and slid my glance to him.
‘Honestly. It’s ok. Frankly, I was kind of impressed.’
‘What? Why?’
Rob laughed. ‘Izzy, look at you! You’re this petite, waif-y, very feminine-looking little thing who looks like she’d blow over in a strong breeze and you knocked a six-foot-three, seventeen stone rugby playing bloke on his arse and broke his nose.’
‘And that’s impressive? I’m more inclined to call it mortifying! And I’m not sure how I feel about being called a “waif-y little thing” either.’
‘It wasn’t meant in a derogatory way. A lot of men find it very attractive – look at Kylie! So don’t knock it. And yes, it is impressive. I’m still getting jibes at the club about being decked by a girl. Either way, it certainly makes me worry less about you walking to the tube!’
‘Oh dear. I’m sorry you’re getting teased. I didn’t really think that whole thing through.’
‘Don’t worry. I give as good as I get.’
I grinned. ‘That I believe.’
‘That’s the first real smile I’ve seen from you all evening.’
At his words, the smile faded a little.
‘Uh oh. Looks like I should have kept quiet.’
I rolled my eyes at him and he chuckled, sipping his coffee.
‘Let’s have a look at this weather.’ he said, opening the laptop.
I put my hand on the lid and closed it again, gently. Rob looked up, the same expression of confusion on his face as he’d shown earlier. Poor Rob. I had a feeling he wished his meeting had been elsewhere this evening, which would have allowed him to avoid bumping into me and inadvertently boarding the Isabel Emotional Rollercoaster.
‘I need to apologise for some other things, and I need to do it now. I’ve already let it go on for far too long.’
Rob didn’t say anything so I carried on.
‘I’m sorry I walked out at the church. I should have stayed until you came back in from making the announcement, not least to thank you for doing that.’
I could see Rob was about to say something. I put my hand on his arm to stall him.
‘I never thought about the position that you were in. Having to come and tell me Steven wasn’t coming. I know you and I weren’t close but we were friends, and I’m pretty sure, from what I knew – know – of you, that it wasn’t an easy thing for you to have to do. I’m sorry that you were put in that position and I’m sorry that I didn’t handle it better.’
‘Izzy.’ Rob moved and took my hands in his. They practically disappeared within them. I never thought of myself as particularly petite. Mags was pretty dinky too so there was no big comparison usually. Now, sat next to Rob, my hands engulfed in his, I could see why he’d describe me as waif-like. And I realised that, from him, I didn’t mind it. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard a similar term, but from Rob it had seemed like a compliment. That was new. I looked up from our hands and into Rob’s gentle brown eyes, surrounded by ridiculously long, thick and jealousy-inducing dark lashes.
‘Izz?’ His voice sounded unsure.
‘Sorry, yes?’ I came back from the lash envy.
‘Please don’t ever blame yourself for what happened. None of it was your fault. And I really don’t like to think of you believing that any of it was.’
I pulled a face. ‘I’m pretty sure some of it was down to me. I mean, it was me that he didn’t want to marry, after all.’
‘And he’s a fool for that!’ There was an edge to Rob’s voice that I’d rarely heard. I tried to meet his eyes but he’d already turned away. Letting go of my hands, he pushed my mug towards me.
‘This is getting cold.’
I leant forward and picked up the mug, cradling it in my hands, enjoying the warmth.
‘I wanted to say sorry for ignoring all your calls and texts, too. I don’t know why I did. Well, I do, I suppose.’
Rob still wasn’t looking at me. I carried on.
‘I was just embarrassed. At having been stood up. At having punched you. At having fled like an overly dramatic heroine in a Barbara Cartland novel. Just at everything. And I suppose I thought that having contact with you was too close to having contact with Steven.’
I felt Rob stiffen next to me.
‘I understand.’ His voice was tight. ‘As I said, you shouldn’t feel responsible for anything that happened that day. Everything that went wrong was down to Steven being a twat. It’s as simple as that. And I can see now why you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. What was supposed to be the best day of your life turned out to be one of the worst. And as the messenger, you’re always going to associate me with that day, that moment. It’s understandable. I guess I never thought about it like that. I just wanted to know that you were ok. Mags had assured me that you were – at least that you were putting on a brave face, which I knew you would. But I suppose I needed to see for myself. I realise now that I should have just taken Mags’ word and not barrelled in.’
‘Rob…’
He