Page 23 of Romantic Hero
‘Wait a second …’ River cuts in then, voice almost a whisper. ‘What if that’s it?’ His eyes meet mine. ‘That’sgottabe it.’
‘What?’ I ask, using another piece of toilet paper to wipe beneath my eyes.
‘Gertie, you said last night that at the first manifestation ceremony you asked for Henry to want you back—’
‘I mean, I mainly asked for help with my book. But yeah, I did sort of tag a Henry-related request on to the end.’
‘So what ifthat’swhy I’m here?’ River jumps up from the chair and starts to pace around the flat, clearly warming up to his theory. ‘Specifically me? To help you get what you asked for? To help get your fella back?’
I screw up my face. ‘No, I … I don’t think that’s it. No offence, but if any of my Bedlam Creek characters were to literally jump off the page to help mend my broken heart it would hardly be you.’
‘Not a character, Gertie.’
‘But—’
‘I seriously reckon this is worth considering,’ River urges, pacing a whole lap of the flat in about four strides. ‘I wouldn’t know a damn thing about helping you overcome your writer’s block because I ain’t a writer and frankly I do not believe in writer’s block. You think ranchers get rancher’s block? You reckon there’s such a thing as surgeon’s block?Or train driver’s block?Please. It’s just a job. And while I may not know a whole bunch about writing, I do know a hell of a lot about seduction …’
‘Oh jeez.’
He toys with the edge of his Stetson. ‘Look, I have nevereverbeen turned down by a woman. Not once in my life. And working on a ranch full of men, I know a whole lot about how the male mind works, what guys like and don’t like. Plus I’m a man who gets things done. I’m a man who is perfectly equipped to help you with this problem.Specifically, this problem. And anyhow, didn’t you say yesterday that you had trouble writing soon after Henry dumped you?’
‘Pretty much within the hour. But FYI –’ I hold a finger in the air – ‘he did not dump me. We’re on a break.’
River waves my point away airily. ‘Potatoes, potahtoes. What I’m saying is thattechnicallygetting Henry back could resolve the writing problem too. Right?’
I snort and stand up from the bed, crossing my arms over my chest. ‘I can’t just “get him back”. He asked for time to consider the relationship, whether it’s what he truly wants.’
River rolls his eyes. ‘So you make him see it’s what hewants. If there’s one thing I know it’s that almost anyone can be persuaded, once you’ve got the measure of them. Trust me on that. You just have to show him what he’s losing without you. Make him feel it in his bones.’
I glance at the photo of Henry that’s sitting on the mantlepiece. I know I should have put it away in a cupboard the moment he told me he was no longer sure about me, but I simply can’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t go cold turkey when I quit full-fat coke in 2023, I couldn’t go cold turkey when I decided to stop watchingGrey’s Anatomyafter Cristina Yang left, and I cannot go cold turkey now.
River follows my gaze to the photograph of Henry and picks it up and then scratches his head. ‘Is he wearing a monocle?’
‘It was a joke. It was fancy dress for a costume party. He doesn’tactuallywear a monocle.’Although he did once consider it.
River’s lip curls with distaste. ‘I know plenty of fellas like that, fellas who would break an arm just to pat themselves on the back. Windbags.’ He squints at the picture. ‘What’s he do for a living? I’m guessing navel-gazing short stories for some obscure literary zine?’
I take umbrage. ‘Henry is a serious, brilliant writer. We were in true love.’
‘True love.’ River scoffs. ‘Well, if old Henry was in “true love” with you four weeks ago, maybe we just have to remind him of those feelings. Stage a little seduction. Ignite a little jealousy.’ He puts the picture back on the mantlepiece face down and looks at me, his expression imploring. ‘Ireally think this could be why I’m here, Gertie. What other reason could it be? I can teach you my ways. We can make Mr Serious Writer see what he’s missing. Make him so jealous, so desperate to be with you, so full of regret for ever thinking he could survive without you, that he loses his damn mind.’
I get a vision of Henry banging at the front door, begging me to forgive him for not believing in our future, promising to do whatever it takes to make it up to me, screaming that he can’t exist for even another second without me, asking me to make him the happiest man on earth and marry him without delay.
‘That would be nice,’ I murmur wistfully.
‘In the movies, when these weird magical fuck-ups happen it’s alwaysalwayssomething to do with … you know …’ River’s face tightens.
‘Love?’
‘Yeah.Love. So maybe that’s why I’m here. To help you get him back. I can help you, Gertie.’
Hmmm. I have to admit, his confidence is intriguing.
I allow myself to fantasise about Henry moving back in and everything going back to the way it was. The house filled once more with the low soothing burr of his voice, the scratch of his fountain pen against high-quality writing paper, the feel of his arm flung comfortingly across my body while I try to get to sleep. Being with Henry again would be like climbing under a metaphorical weighted blanket. Safe. Secure. Certain. Tucked in. No more Boyz II Men. No more bath wailing. No more feelingthislonely.Thisuseless.
‘Do you … do you think that’s even possible?’ I ask. ‘Making Henrydesperateto be with me?’
River hooks his thumbs into his belt. ‘With my expert help? Anything’s possible. Wait … Wasn’t that party invitation …’ He wanders over to the fridge and plucks the thick cream card invitation from beneath its magnet. He clears his throat.
