Dumped, Actually Read online

  ALSO BY NICK SPALDING

  Dry Hard

  Checking Out

  Mad Love

  Bricking It

  Fat Chance

  Buzzing Easter Bunnies

  Blue Christmas Balls

  Love . . . Series

  Love . . . From Both Sides

  Love . . . And Sleepless Nights

  Love . . . Under Different Skies

  Love . . . Among the Stars

  Life . . . Series

  Life . . . On a High

  Life . . . With No Breaks

  Cornerstone Series

  The Cornerstone

  Wordsmith

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2019 by Nick Spalding

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781542041324

  ISBN-10: 1542041325

  Cover design by Ghost Design

  I’d like to dedicate this book to all of the women who have ever dumped me. You made me a better person, a better husband and a better writer.

  . . . ha!

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  INTERLUDE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  INTERLUDE

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  INTERLUDE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AFTERLUDE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  MAN PROPOSES, WOMAN DISPOSES

  ‘Will you marry me?’

  I look up into Samantha’s eyes, and see tears of sublime happiness forming in them.

  Behind us, the jazz band has stopped playing, on cue, awaiting her answer. The crowd that have formed around us hold their breath, expectant looks writ large across their faces.

  The sun bathes the entire plaza in its warm and comforting light, and there’s a happy breeze teasing Samantha’s blonde hair, which frames the smile that she has on her face exquisitely. It’s like something out of the best romantic comedy you’ve ever seen – only it’s real and it’s happening to me.

  ‘Yes, Ollie,’ she says breathlessly. ‘Of course I’ll marry you!’

  A cheer goes up from the crowd, the band start to play the wedding march and I embrace my new fiancée, spinning her around, as we both laugh and cry with the joy that fills our hearts.

  It’s the perfect moment, in the perfect day.

  I couldn’t be happier.

  Roll credits.

  ‘Lauren, don’t wipe bogies on that man’s leg.’

  My glorious daydream is instantly shattered as I look down to see a pudgy finger covered in green-and-brown jelly coming ever closer to my jeans.

  With a mild cry of revulsion, I step back out of range of the snot-covered digit.

  ‘Ow! Ollie!’ Samantha exclaims from beside me in the queue. ‘You stepped on my foot!’

  ‘Sorry, sweetheart!’ I cry, giving the bogey-wielding child a dark look.

  The mother, well aware of the horror her offspring is about to inflict on my brand-new skinny jeans, pulls Lauren away, with an apologetic expression on her face.

  Luckily for all concerned, the queue starts to move forward again, and Lauren and her snotty finger are taken well out of my personal space. I pity the poor person that Lauren eventually attaches that slimy mess to. It looks like the kind of thing that will take several hot washes to get out, and possibly several bars of anti-bacterial soap if it gets near the skin.

  Speaking of hot – the sweat running down my face is testament to the unseasonable weather we’re currently experiencing in the long queue for entry into Thorn Manor, the country’s newest and most exciting theme park.

  I gaze again at my girlfriend, who seems to have got over my moment of clumsiness and looks eager and excited about the day ahead.

  Samantha’s love of theme parks is absolutely adorable. We’ve spent many long and happy days visiting the best of the bunch around the UK, trying out the rides, eating far too much junk food and probably spending way too long in queues like this one.

  This is Thorn Manor’s opening day, and it is gleaming with corporate freshness. Like a brand-new toy still in its box, desperate to be played with for the first time.

  What better way to celebrate Samantha’s twenty-ninth birthday than a day spent here?

  And what better place could there be for me to get down on bended knee and ask her to marry me?

  It’s just perfect.

  When I managed to score tickets to Thorn Manor’s opening day, I knew that it was just too good an opportunity to pass up. The serendipity of it opening on Samantha’s birthday was the kind of thing that could make you believe that there actually was a God, and that He had an innate sense of good timing.

  I couldn’t have scripted it better if I’d tried.

  It took me weeks to work out the best way to propose, and several more weeks to get everything in place for it. The management of the theme park were more than happy to help out, I’m pleased to say. They leapt at the chance to have a marriage proposal happen on their grand opening. The positive PR will be magnificent for them.

  Letting Samantha and me be among the first to try out their new rollercoaster, ‘The Blitzer’, was extremely kind of them as well. As was allowing the band I’ve hired to be waiting for us at the end of the ride, after we get off it.

  It’s all been timed down to the minute.

  The Blitzer’s first loop around the track will happen at midday. It will slow to a halt in front of the ride’s broad plaza three minutes later. When Samantha and I get off the coaster, the band will start to play everybody’s favourite piano power ballad from a few years ago, ‘All of Me’, which is Samantha’s absolute favourite.

  Then I will take the 24-carat-gold diamond ring from the top pocket of the waistcoat the trumpet player is wearing and get down on one knee to ask Samantha to be my wife.

  It will be wonderful.

  It will be epic.

  It will be perfect.

  It had better be, anyway – the amount of money and time I’ve spent arranging all of this would make you sick. My credit card bill and the bags under my eyes are both gigantic, and unlikely to fade any time soon.

  Never mind, it’ll all be worth it once I hear her say yes!

  And I am absolutely positive she will say yes. We’ve been together long enough that I know how she feels about me. After all this time, I know Samantha very well, and I’m sure that she’s as ready to take this next step in our relationship as I am. Our love for one another is very strong. She is most definitely ‘the one’. I have no doubt about it whatsoever.

  ‘Bloody hell, it’s boiling,’ Samantha says with a gasp, pulling her vest top away from her midriff.

  ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ I tell her, ‘we’ll be in soon. We’re nearly at the front of the queue.’

  ‘God, I hope so. I could really do with a drink.’

  I give her a smi
le. ‘The first thing we’ll do is go and find the nearest concession stand, and I’ll buy you a raspberry smoothie.’

  That’s Samantha’s favourite. She loves them.

  She gives me a big smile back. ‘Thanks, Ollie. You’re too good to me.’

  ‘Hey . . . it’s your birthday!’ I reply – as if that really makes any difference. I’d do anything for Samantha, whatever the day. That’s how much I adore her.

  She laughs and lightly touches the Pandora necklace I gave to her earlier this morning, before we set off for our day out. It was slightly more expensive than the jazz band, but not by much.

  The Light Touch Quartet are one of the most popular touring contemporary jazz acts out there, and getting them here today has been quite the effort. Their agent, an extremely awkward individual called Barret Bartholomew – who I’m sure was drunk every time I spoke to him – kept trying to raise their fee. I know damn well that he ended up rinsing me out like a wet rag, but what choice did I have? You only get to propose marriage once, and I wasn’t going to skimp on the details. Especially not on the soundtrack.

  The Light Touch Quartet should be hidden away somewhere in Thorn Manor’s shiny recesses, ready to come out and play their part just after the clock strikes twelve. I’ve had a text message from Amy, the Thorn Manor PR manager, to tell me they’re in place, so all is going according to plan.

  My heart rate speeds up a little as I again begin to contemplate the events that are about to unfold. It’s ten minutes past ten now, so in just two hours I will be engaged to the most wonderful woman in the world. I can’t believe my luck.

  ‘Lauren! Don’t be so disgusting!’

  I look down to see Lauren the bogey girl wiping her finger across my kneecap.

  ‘Eurgh!’ I cry with revulsion as she leaves a smear of glistening nose production on my jeans.

  ‘I’m so sorry!’ the mother says, producing a packet of baby wipes from her purse. ‘Let me get that off for you.’ She thrusts her daughter out of the way and bends down to attack my kneecap with the baby wipe. All this does is make my knee a bit damp and smear the bogey around a bit more, but I thank her for her efforts anyway.

  ‘It really is very kind of you to try to get it off,’ I tell her, attempting to sound entirely unbothered. Inside, though, I could almost scream. I do not want to ask Samantha to marry me with a snot-covered knee. It’s not something that is part of my perfect little daydream, God damn it. At no point in the past few weeks and months have I dreamed of getting engaged with the excavations of a six-year-old’s olfactory orifice upon my person!

  ‘That’s gross,’ Samantha points out as Lauren is once again dragged far away by her mother. ‘What a horrible little shit.’

  I shrug my shoulders and smile. ‘Ah, these things happen,’ I tell her, repressing my frustration for all I’m worth. This is Samantha’s special day – in more ways than one – and I don’t want it ruined by bogies. She doesn’t need to see how I’m feeling. Better to just pretend it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

  Samantha gives me a strange little look. ‘You shouldn’t let people get away with that kind of crap, Ollie,’ she says as we finally get to the front of the queue, and the ticket kiosk.

  I shrug again. ‘Why let these silly little things get to you?’ I wrap an arm around her shoulders. ‘Come on, we’re nearly in. Let’s forget about Lauren and her snotty finger. We’re here to have a great time!’

  Samantha smiles, but there’s an incredulous look on her face that makes me wince a little, for reasons I’m not too sure about, to be honest.

  But never mind . . .

  Here we are, in Thorn Manor!

  The girl in the kiosk waves us through when I show her our pre-booked tickets, and we walk into a broad and gleaming forecourt, rammed full of excited and enthusiastic members of the public, all keen to try out the plethora of new rides and attractions on offer.

  Samantha skips happily up to a large map in the dead centre of the forecourt. ‘What shall we do first, Ollie?! There’s Mount Terror, that looks good . . . Or Star Warriors – that’s the light-gun game I told you about. Ooh! What about Mega Rapids? That’d cool us down!’

  I smile indulgently. I love seeing her this happy. ‘We’ll go wherever you want, darling,’ I tell her, sliding one arm around her waist. I then look down at my smeared jean leg. ‘Just let me go to a toilet first to get this off, eh?’

  Samantha nods and laughs. I don’t think I’ve seen her this giddy in a long time. ‘Yeah, yeah, that’s cool. You go do that, and I’ll get us both a drink.’

  ‘Great.’

  We make our way through the milling crowd to a concession stand on the left-hand side of the expansive forecourt. Behind this building are the toilets, so I hand over ten pounds to Samantha, and ask her to get me a Diet Coke, before making my way into the toilet to try to remove little Lauren’s nose production from my jeans.

  It’s while I’m doing this in front of one of the shiny new sinks that my phone goes off. I answer and it’s Amy, the park’s PR manager.

  ‘Hi Ollie! Just wanted to call to let you know everything is in place for later, as we planned. I’ve got the band holed up at the back of the visitor’s centre, just by The Blitzer.’

  ‘Thanks, Amy! Has the trumpeter got the ring in his waistcoat, like I asked?’

  ‘Er . . . yes, kind of.’

  ‘Kind of?’ My heart skips a beat. Everything has to be perfect today. Nothing must go wrong!

  ‘Yeah. It’s in his pocket, but I wouldn’t really call it a waistcoat.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It just looks a little too small to be a waistcoat, and the way it connects to his—’

  The door to the toilet bangs open suddenly, and a large, irate, red-faced father bursts through it, accompanied by two small, screaming boys.

  I have to shout down the phone now to be heard over their caterwauling. ‘Just tell me he’s got the ring, Amy!’

  ‘Yes, yes! He’s got it. Horst seems like a very nice man. All of the band do. I’m sure everything will go well!’

  ‘Great!’

  ‘It’s certainly going to be quite the show when they start up! Everyone will notice!’

  ‘I’m sure they will!’

  The irate father is now pushing both boys into a cubicle, ordering them to take a piss as quickly as possible, so they can get to Minecart Mayhem before the queue gets too big.

  ‘I never would have thought somebody like Samantha would like that kind of music!’ Amy continues.

  ‘Yes, it’s not really the kind of music you’d expect someone as young as her to like, but she’s a very special lady!’ I reply, moving myself away from the screaming boys.

  ‘Yeah . . . she must be. Well, I guess I’ll see you after the show’s over, Ollie. Good luck!’

  ‘Thanks, Amy. Speak to you later.’

  I pocket the phone with relief and look down at my now slightly damp – but also clean – kneecap. It’ll dry out in no time in the heat.

  Time to get back out there and have some fun!

  I exit the toilet, leaving the irate father to bully the urine out of his sons, and rejoin Samantha, who hands me a large Diet Coke, of which I gratefully take a swig.

  ‘Thanks for bringing me here today, Ollie,’ she says with a smile.

  ‘My absolute pleasure, sweetheart. This is your birthday, and I want it to be a special day for you.’

  ‘Thanks! Shall we go get started then? I want to get at least three rides in before we hit The Blitzer at midday!’

  ‘No problem!’

  We take off in the direction of Mount Terror, weaving our way through a load more irate fathers and mothers as we do so. There’s a small part of me that wants exactly what they’ve got, though – small children to share this kind of experience with. Maybe after Samantha and I are married that could be the next thing on the list. I grew up with parents who loved each other as much as Samantha and I do, and I can’t wait to give my own
child the same upbringing I had. I want to be the kind of parent who smothers their child with love – just like Mum and Dad did for me.

  This thought puts a large and contented smile on my face as we join the line for Mount Terror.

  As we do, I look at my watch again, which says half past ten.

  Not long now, Ollie . . . Not long now!

  But before I get the chance to pop the question, it’s time to experience a few hair-raising rides at this brand-new theme park.

  If I’m being brutally honest, I’m not really much of a fan of this kind of thing myself. I’d prefer a nice walk in the country, or a day at the beach, but Samantha is something of an adrenaline junkie, and I’m more than happy to suffer my way through being jolted and jerked around a few metal tracks to make her happy. My experience of rollercoasters has increased exponentially since I met Samantha. I’d never been on one before I met her, but now I’ve been through more loop-the-loops than a Red Arrow. That’s what I love about her. She’s introduced me to things I would never have done alone.

  The only ride I’m really not looking forward to at all is The Blitzer itself. I catch sight of its gigantic silver, looping track as we make our way towards Mount Terror. It’s apparently the highest single inverted-loop rollercoaster in the northern hemisphere – and boy does it look it. My stomach does a tiny flip as I stare up at the top of the loop, which looks like it’s a good two miles in the air.

  Still, it’s only three minutes of my life, and straight after it I get to the thing I am looking forward to, so I’ll grit my teeth and put up with it. Samantha will no doubt have the time of her life on the damned ride, and that’s what’s important.

  By the time we get off Minecart Mayhem, it’s ten to twelve and time to go join the queue for The Blitzer. The first ride on the rollercoaster is only open to those like us who managed to score special tickets. Everyone else will have to wait until we’ve had our turn. It cost me another hundred quid to secure the first ride – in another shining example of Ollie Sweet being royally rinsed of his cash. But you really can’t put a price on a moment like this, can you? I’ve been dreaming of this proposal for so long, there’s no amount I wouldn’t have spent to achieve it.