‘Everyone else around us was getting married – friends we’d had for years, and we were the last. It was either get married or break up and so, stupidly, I just went with the flow. We talked and talked about it for so long that I think we talked the romance out of it. By the time we were a month away from walking down the aisle in the most outrageously extravagant wedding she could plan, I was …’
He stopped talking. ‘I was …’ he sighed. ‘I wasn’t involved in the wedding. She and her mum wouldn’t let me. And that was all right because I didn’t care what colour the ribbons on the chairs were, or what colour the napkins were. I wasn’t interested in the wedding, wasn’t interested in any part of it. Then my nan died and my granddad followed shortly after. They’d been so in lovetheir whole lives and I think that’s when I knew I wasn’t in love and that going ahead with it wasn’t the right thing to do.’
Lucy exhaled loudly. ‘I’m so sorry. For your loss. For … all of it.’
Will nodded. ‘Thanks. Calling it off was for the best. The mad thing was, when I told her, I expected her to throw things at me or cry. Instead she just said, “Do you know how much my parents have spent on this? Do you know how many people are coming? Do you know how embarrassing it will be to call it all off now?”’
Lucy could sort of see her point, but on the flipside … ‘Was she still in love with you?’
Will shrugged. ‘She never used it as part of the argument why we should still get married. Even suggested we go through with it to save face and divorce after.’
‘Wow,’ Lucy said.
‘I just couldn’t,’ Will said, and then quieter: ‘I just couldn’t.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Lucy said.
‘I didn’t really want to tell Clara and John that. I’d only just met them really. Not a nice first impression to reveal that you jilted someone with a month to go before the big day.’
‘It’s not really jilting,’ Lucy said, springing to his defence. ‘I mean, you probably shouldn’t have got engaged really, but at least you didn’t go through with something that felt so terribly wrong.’ And then after a moment, she said, ‘Sorry, that was clumsily put.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ he said. ‘It’s true. And I’m not proud. Of any of it.’
‘Do you still speak to her?’ Lucy asked, no idea what his ex’s name was and not actually really wanting to know. On the upside at least he wasn’t the one nursing a broken heart. Neither was she by the sounds of it.
‘Yeah,’ he said ruefully. ‘She’s got the dog. I take him out for walks every now and again when I’m there and I have him when she goes on holiday, but he’s old now and as she points out, when he passes away we’ll never have to see each other again.’
‘Ouch,’ Lucy said, wincing.
‘Yeah I know. Brutal. She hates me. So does her new boyfriend. It’s fair enough. Even though they’re getting married next year.’
Lucy said, ‘All’s well that ends well. Kind of.’
Will laughed. ‘Yeah. Kind of.’
The way he smiled, his easy-going nature … it was leading to too much confusion in this tight space. Lucy suddenly felt engulfed. She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that.
‘Go on then,’ he said. ‘Your turn.’
‘My turn to do what?’
‘Reveal all the skeletons in your cupboard. I’ve just done mine.’
‘No real skeletons. Just never really liked anyone enough to stick around with them.’ And then she took a deep breath and tried to think about what Clara had said. ‘Perhaps it’s because I don’t see anything through.’
‘What?’ Will said.
‘Clara thinks I don’t finish things. She’s right. And I’m trying to work out what that means for past relationships, such as they were. I’ve had boyfriends but I’ve never really gone anywhere with them. I’ve never really felt that spark, never allowed relationships to progress because of that and so I found it easier to stop dating. I stopped making room for dating.’
‘Do you have room now?’ he asked pointedly.
Lucy swallowed. The room felt smaller. He was watching her, waiting. ‘I hadn’t thought …’ she said. And then the timer sounded again, breaking the moment. It took Will a full five seconds before he took his eyes from Lucy and gently clicked the timer to silence it.
The atmosphere turned swiftly technical as Will looked with furrowed brows at the canister, shaking it and setting it and making a great show, suddenly, of moving all the chemicals; talking to her about the differences between a proper darkroom and this, makeshift method. Lucy felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment – happiness too, but embarrassment nonetheless that they had bordered onceagain on an element of flirtation that had turned gently away from them. What would have happened if the timer hadn’t sounded? Would he have kissed her? Or was she imagining the atmosphere?
‘It’s a long process this, isn’t it?’ she said to soften the silence, but after she said it she realised it could apply to both them and the development of the photos.
‘It is, yeah,’ Will said. ‘Bored?’
