Free The Longest Holiday by Paige Toon Page B

lie.
    ‘What were his last words to you?’ they’d ask me. ‘Did he tell you he loved you, like in the song?’
    That damn song. ‘Tell Laura I Love Her’. It may have hit the charts decades ago, but it haunted me. The song relays the story of a racing driver who tells his girlfriend – named Laura – that he loves her before he dies in a car racing accident. Uncanny, huh? Yep, the press thought so, too.
    I probably added some fuel to their fire when I set up a charity in Will’s name: Trust for Children. I still head it up. Guilt pricks me now as I think of my assistant, Becky, having to handle things on her own. But she’ll be okay. She’s a great assistant. She was shocked when I revealed my current situation.
    Luckily the tabloids pretty much leave me alone these days, otherwise I’d have the humiliation of most of Britain knowing about Matthew.
    Okay, so yes, I’ve had a shit time with men.
    I swallow the lump in my throat. ‘Matthew helped me get over Will,’ I tell Bridget, who has remained silent and contemplative for a change. Then I confide in her the truth: that Will and I had split up before he died.
    ‘No way?’ She’s stunned. ‘Why?’
    I tell her about how we’d grown apart, and about the girl, the one who worked in hospitality for the team.
    ‘Do you know for sure that he cheated on you?’ she asks with a furrowed brow.
    ‘No, and I don’t want to. If he did, he did. But it’s done now.’
    ‘Did you ever want to ask her?’
    ‘No. I had my chance, once. I bumped into her after Will’s death. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to ask her. Anyway, she moved on and so did I. She’s seeing another racing driver now. Will’s ex-teammate. At least I think they’re still together. Are they?’ I ask Marty. She watches Formula One.
    ‘Yes,’ she replies a touch edgily. ‘I think they’ve just got engaged, actually.’
    ‘Good for her,’ I say to Marty’s everlasting surprise. She can’t understand my ‘generosity of spirit’, as she calls it. I liked the girl the few times I met her, despite my concerns about Will’s feelings. And if she did love Will, then she lost him, too. I guess she found someone to help her heal, like I did.
    I met Matthew only months after Will’s death. He’s a journalist, but I never felt as though I couldn’t trust him. He was writing a story about my charity work and my attraction to him was immediate. I could tell the feeling was mutual, but oh, the guilt. Even though Will had possibly cheated on me before ending our relationship, I couldn’t bring myself to start over with anyone else. But Matthew and I became friends, and when our friendship developed I fell head over heels. I couldn’t stop myself. His proposal came quickly. And even though my parents thought I’d lost my head, I said yes. Why not? I deserved a second chance at love.
    I let out a bitter laugh. ‘What a fuckwit.’
    ‘Who?’ Bridget asks, taken aback by the acrimonious tone that has crept into my voice.
    ‘Matthew. But Will was a bastard, too, in the end.’ I sigh. ‘Can we change the subject? What were we talking about before we got onto my disastrous love life?’
    ‘We were talking about Leo,’ Marty reminds me with a twinkle in her eye.
    ‘Move on!’ I practically shout. ‘No, how many people have we slept with, that was it.’
    ‘Aah, yes,’ Bridget says, remembering. ‘What about you, Marty?’
    ‘Jack, Ben, Keith, Simon and … Pablo.’ I crack up laughing as I say this last name.
    ‘Who’s Pablo?’ Bridget asks with confusion. I only laugh more.
    ‘Piss off,’ Marty says with a grin, kicking my foot this time.
    ‘Pablo was her one true love,’ I tell Bridget as I try to stifle my giggles. Marty mutters and shakes her head, but I know she doesn’t mind me taking the mickey.
    ‘She met him in Ibiza, when we were eighteen. At the end of the holiday she didn’t want to come home again.’ I grin. ‘We’ve all been there, right?