Blind-Date Marriage. Fiona Harper
they got outside, the clamping lorry was just disappearing round the corner with the Porsche strapped on board. All four of them stood and stared at the space where it had been parked.
‘So much for a quick getaway,’ mumbled Serena.
Jake was glad of the opportunity to be more than a spectator of the afternoon’s increasingly bizarre turn of events. ‘No problem. I can give you all a lift.’
Serena turned to look at him, as if she’d only just remembered he existed—a huge boost for the ego! Two hours ago he’d been having a rather nice lunch with the most fascinating woman he’d met in months, and now he’d been demoted to chauffeur and general onlooker. Oh, well, he might as well play the part.
‘How about I drop Benny off at the car pound? I’ll pay if you’re short after forking out for damages in there—’ he jerked his thumb in the direction of the pub ‘—and then we can get your dad home.’
She closed her eyes and breathed out through her nose. ‘You know he’s my dad?’ she asked, without opening her eyelids.
‘It came up.’
‘Fabulous.’
Why was she so upset? It was hardly a matter of national security.
He put his arm round her shoulder and drew her to him. ‘What do you say? Jump in the car and I’ll take you somewhere warm. Let me return the favour and be your knight in shining armour for a change.’
To his amazement, she turned her face up to his and kissed his cheek. Her lips were warm and soft, and her hair smelled of lemons. When she moved away his cheek felt cold.
‘You’re a real gentleman, Charlie. Let’s get going before anyone spots us.’
Benny wrestled Mike and his unruly limbs into the back seat, where he lolled against the door. Jake had the feeling he would have slithered onto the floor without the seat belt to hold him up. Serena took the passenger seat while Benny babysat Mike in the back.
No one talked as they sped back towards central London. They could hardly make polite chit-chat after the sort of afternoon they’d had. Even if they tried small talk, once they got past, Isn’t it getting dark in the evenings now? or, Very mild for November, isn’t it? they’d have lapsed back into the bottomless silence.
Jake turned the radio on low, to muffle the sound of Mike’s snoring. He tuned it to an ‘oldies-but-goldies’ station. Nothing too offensive to anyone’s tastes, he hoped. The opening chords of a song he hadn’t heard for years drifted through the car. It reminded him of a summer on the housing estate when he and his mates had hung round the playground on their bikes. Before the see-saw had been vandalised. Before they’d started finding used syringes by the swings. He smiled and wondered what Martin and Keith were doing now.
Without warning, Mike burst from his coma and belted out the chorus of the song. He didn’t have a bad voice. Jake glanced back just in time to catch a virtuoso air guitar performance.
That was it! He’d known he’d get it eventually.
Serena’s dad looked like Michael Dove, the lead guitarist of Phoenix. This song had been one of their biggest sellers back in the late seventies. He breathed a sigh of relief. Not being able to place that face would have driven him mad all day.
He sneaked another look in the rear-view mirror. The resemblance was uncanny. This guy could make a good living as a look-alike, instead of getting wasted in dodgy south London pubs. Perhaps he should suggest it to Serena?
He looked again.
Yep, it was a great idea. Mike even had that same little scar on his lip…
‘Jake!’
The flat of her hand hit him hard on the shoulder. Instinctively, he stamped on the brake pedal, suddenly noticing the brake lights of the car in front were a little too close for comfort. He forgot to put his foot back on the accelerator and looked into the back seat.
‘You’re Michael Dove.’
Serena groaned. He looked across at her. The car behind tooted its horn.
‘You’re Michael Dove’s daughter.’
She looked back at him, her brows knit together.
‘I know. Funnily enough, I have been all my life.’
Great! He was going to go all starry-eyed on her. Just when she’d thought she’d found a possible candidate for Mr Serendipity Dove.
Men responded in very different ways to the news that her father was a rock legend, but the outcome was always the same. It was the kiss of death. Whether they pretended not to care, or decided to use the relationship to further their own careers, it changed things for ever.
She looked across at Jake. He was very quiet.
‘But I thought Michael Dove’s daughter was called something freaky, like Stardust or Moonbeam.’
A voice yelled from the back seat, ‘Moonbeam, my—’
‘Dad!’
‘But Mr Three-piece-suit here thinks your name is ridiculous.’
Jake shook his head. ‘There’s nothing ridiculous about being called Serena. I was just saying—’
Serena groaned again. Which was not good. It was a seriously unattractive noise, but she couldn’t stop herself. Earlier this afternoon she’d been a woman of mystery: exotic, alluring…Now Jake could find all the intimate details of her life just by picking up a tabloid newspaper.
‘Who’s Serena?’ her dad muttered.
Jake leant across the gap between their seats and whispered, ‘He must be in worse shape than he looks.’
I wish!
At least then her dad would pass out and save her from any further embarrassment. When she got home she was going to empty every bottle of spirits in their Chelsea townhouse down the kitchen sink. Including the one he kept in his guitar case he thought she didn’t know about. And the whisky that was hidden in a wellington boot beside the back door.
Her father continued to mumble from the rear of the car, more to himself than for the benefit of the other passengers.
‘Elaine named her…she was so thrilled—we thought we couldn’t have kids. Then fortune smiled on us…’
If there was an ejector seat in Jake’s BMW, she was praying fervently it would shoot her through the roof this very second.
‘There’s nothing wrong with Serendipity. It’s a beautiful name. Moonbeam. I ask you…’
Jake coughed. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You heard!’ she snapped.
There was a crinkle in his voice when he spoke next. She could tell he was holding back a snort of laughter, but, give him credit, he managed to arrest it by swallowing hard.
‘It seems you were a little economical with your name, Miss Dove.’
‘Yes, well, so were you, Charles!’
‘Let’s just call it quits and agree we are creatures of a similar nature.’
She allowed herself a small smile.
‘Maybe.’
She turned to look at her father. He was fast asleep, mouth hanging open, threatening to dribble on Benny’s shoulder if the car swung him in the right direction. Once again he was oblivious to the upheaval he’d created in her life. But it was hard to be cross with him. There was something so child-like about him. He didn’t mean to cause trouble; he just couldn’t help himself. It was as natural as breathing for him.
She closed her eyes and settled back into the comfy leather seat, letting the endless stopping and starting of the car journey lull her into a more relaxed frame of mind.