Love All

Called Out....

Cara grabbed her jacket and left.  Looking neither to right nor left, she fled the scene of her self-induced humiliation.

What had she been thinking? That they would fall in love over the French Onion soup? That by the time the strawberry pavlova was mere crumbs in his beard, she'd be on her way to girlfriend territory?

No. She was just... well, she was just Cara. Nice to laugh with, sweet to hold, lovely to kiss, but ultimately? She was no Tracy, she knew it, Tom knew it and now? Now everyone else in the restaurant knew it too.

As she waited by the gates for her cab, she raked in her now annoyingly miniscule handbag for a tissue. Finding only a couple of receipts and her wallet, she cursed. Loudly and in a VERY unladylike fashion.

"FUCK A BLOODY DUCK! NOW I HAVE TO USE MY FUCKING SCARF."  Tears, mascara and self pity coursed down her flaming cheeks. She sat on the nearby wall and sobbed into her hands.

An older woman walking in as she did so, paused midstride, looking at her.  A look of concern passed over her face, who had upset this lovely girl?  Surely someone like her shouldn't be crying, let alone crying alone.

"Are you ok, my dear?" She walked over, automatically in mother-mode offering her a tissue and put a gentle hand on Cara's arm. Cara looked up at her, took the tissue, and shook her head, continuing to cry. "Man trouble?" Her Good Samaritan asked quietly. Cara nodded.  "Did he mess you around?" Again, she shook her head. This time, a small 'no' squeaked out.

The Good Samaritan smiled gently. "Does he know you're put here crying?"

"I doubt it." Cara answered sadly, pulling herself together. "He's otherwise occupied now. I couldn't compete with... her..." The tears flowed again, this time silently.

"Oh dear. That's too bad. Competitions are never fair, are they. They're always rigged in someone's favour." The Samaritan leaned on the wall beside her. "Were you supposed to be having lunch? Watching the match after?

Cara nodded. "Yes, I guess I lost more than just my... future today. Oh well, my own fault. Expect nothing, and you won't be disappointed. " she took a deep breath. "Thanks for stopping. It was so lovely of you.  I really shouldn't take up any more of your time." Running a hand through her hair and standing up. "You'll be late for lunch."

"Oh don't, you worry, my son is very understanding. He'll not even notice, I'm meeting his new girlfriend today." She stood up and looked at Cara who was much calmer now. Now she too stood. "Will you be ok, dear?"  

Cara nodded, smiling weakly. "Yes, thanks. I'm sure I will. You've been so kind. Please, don't worry about me. Have a lovely afternoon." 

"Well dear, I just have one thing to say, I hope my son's girlfriend is as pretty and lovely as you. Take care dear." she squeezed her arm and smiled.

"Goodbye, and thank you again." Cara reached out and impulsively hugged her new companion. "Really, thank you."

"Goodbye dear, take care on the way home. For what it's worth? He's an idiot. He doesn't deserve you. Good luck my dear." The woman smiled and turned away.

As Cara watched her walk away, waiting for her cab, it occurred to her she should have been polite enough to introduce herself to the woman taking such a kindly interest. Scanning the crowds, she went to call out, but, to her dismay, the woman was gone. Lost in the throng of Finals Day, she was simply one of a hundred thousand other tennis fans filling the grounds.

Tom stood in the resulting silence , horrified as he watched Tracy walk up to him, a smile plastered on her face, "Thank goodness for THAT I thought she would NEVER leave. These little fangirls are just so shallow and demanding. Now, come on darling, champagne time...."

It had all gone so horribly wrong.  It wasn't Cara that was supposed to leave, it wasn't Cara that was supposed to have been humiliated.  It was Tracy.  It was ALWAYS supposed to have been Tracy. As he turned, he spotted someone walking in and his stomach plummeted.  Oh shit, now he'd have to explain to his mum why their table for three had suddenly become a table for two.

Mrs Hiddleston was nothing if not circumspect about Tom's love life.  She knew that he came into contact with many, many women, all of whom would date him at the drop of a hat.  None of whom actually cared about him, well, very few anyway.  The ones that did?  Sadly were usually eaten up by the ravenous monster of the celebrity world he lived in.  She felt sorry for them, and usually? Even more sorry for Tom. 

Not today.  Today, as she walked in and saw him, Tracy draped over his arm, something in her stirred.  A mother's wrath. Instantly she knew.  Instantly she put two and two together and came up with the woman in tears outside.

As he turned to greet her, his face a picture of discomfort and regret, she scowled at him. "Go.  Now. Before I box your ears."

"Yes mum, thanks mum, sorry mum. I'll be back in a minute. " he turned to Tracy and in a voice loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear,

"I'm leaving Tracy, leaving this room, leaving YOU.  I NEVER wanted to be with you, even back then it was all a mistake,  a horrible messy mistake.  YOU are shallow, vindictive, vain and I can't imagine what I ever saw in you.  Cara - yes CARA - is worth ten, no a hundred of you. You're not fit to lick her shoes never mind speak to her. Now, I am leaving and when I come back WITH Cara, you'd better be gone."

He turned on his heel and walked away, pausing at the doorway to call back. "Mum?"

"Yes love?"

"Make sure the wait staff take out ALL the rubbish won't you? There's so much has built up and we don't want any nasty odours, like spite and jealousy, spoiling our lunch."

"With pleasure love. With pleasure.  Oh and Thomas?"

"Yes mum?"

"She's standing by the gates waiting for her taxi, you'd better hurry son. She was very upset when I left her."  As Tom blew her a kiss, she smiled and turned back to the matter in hand. Yes, her son's new girlfriend was very pretty indeed.