Luckily, I was saved from having to make a promise I had no intention of keeping by Rose, who popped her head round the door.
‘Are you two coming back in here any time today?’
‘Sorry, I was just filling Erin in on my hot date.’ Sam flashed her a grin.
Rose studied us both for a moment as though trying to work out whether we were lying, before giving a small tilt of her head. ‘Come on then, come and tell us all.’
When the door closed behind her, Sam blocked my way, hand on his hip. ‘This conversation isn’t over, missy.’
‘I know.’ When Sam got a bee in his bonnet about something, he didn’t easily let it go. But for now, I was off the hook, and it was with relief that I followed him back into the living room to join Rose and Greg and listen to ridiculous Christmas songs.
It was late by the time Greg and I staggered home from Rose’s flat. It was black as ink outside and tiny stars prickled through the darkness. I tipped my head back and watched the distant planets, marvelling at the vastness of the universe. I tried not to think about lying on the frozen Common with Adam looking at this very same sky just two nights ago.
‘It’s soooo Christmassy,’ I slurred. My arm was hooked through Greg’s, and when I stumbled he pulled me back to standing. ‘Sorry,’ I muttered. I was aware that I was much more drunk than him, and it made me feel at a disadvantage.
We walked on in silence. I was concentrating hard on not falling over, and staying in a straight line, as though trying to prove to a police officer that I wasn’t as drunk as I seemed. I was leaning heavily against Greg and I could feel the warmth of his body pressed into me. The tension radiated from him.
We walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound our footsteps ringing out on the frosty pavement, and the odd car rumbling past a street or two away. The pubs were all shut now, Christmas drinkers all gone home, tucked up in their beds ready for Christmas Eve tomorrow. The world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
‘I wish you’d forgive me.’ Greg’s voice pierced through the icy air, and I lifted my head off his shoulder to glance up at him. My vision was blurred around the edges, but I could see him as clear as day.
‘Whaddyoo mean?’ I studied the contours of his still handsome face: his high forehead, sandy hair curled around his ears, the long, straight lines of his nose and the curve of his lips. His face was almost as familiar to me as my own. I loved his face, I knew I did. But it didn’t set me on fire. It didn’t get my heart racing, my palms sweating, my stomach somersaulting. It made me feel safe and protected – or at least it had done until now. Now I just saw betrayal in its familiar lines.
Greg turned towards me, his grey eyes hidden beneath the shadows from the streetlights. His skin had a blue sheen. ‘You know what I mean.’ He stopped, suddenly, outside the Fat Cat café where I’d seen Adam busking, and I tried to concentrate on Greg’s words and not get caught up in memories of that day. What he was saying was important, and I needed to listen. I stared at his nose in the hope it would keep me focused. ‘I know what I did was wrong but I’m doing everything I can to make it up to you Erin.’ He licked his lips and I studied the movement of his tongue across them. ‘But you’re so distant. So angry. I just…’ He shrugged. ‘Oh God I don’t know why I’m bringing this up now. We’re both too pissed.’ He turned and started walking away again.
‘No!’ I tugged his arm and he spun back to face me. ‘Don’t walk away.’
‘I was wrong to bring it up now. I – we just need to get home and go to bed.’ His voice softened and he cupped my face in his hands. ‘We can talk about it in the morning.’
I felt my shoulders drop. He was right. This wasn’t the time or the place. ‘Okay.’
He took my gloved hand in his and we sauntered home, me more unsteadily than him. When we walked through the front door we both kicked our shoes off as Dog threaded his way round our ankles, and headed into the kitchen.
‘Coffee?’ Greg asked.
‘I probably should.’
I perched on one of the stools and watched as he pottered about spooning coffee granules into the cafetiere and boiling the kettle. The cold air had sobered me up a bit and a ball of melancholy sat heavily in my chest as I watched this man I’d loved and lived with for more than seventeen years. Aside from the gambling, which I knew he was trying his hardest to overcome, Greg was a good man, and he loved me. That had been enough for me until now.
So why was I trying to find ways to punish him? And why was I thinking about someone else?
I pushed the stool back and stood up. ‘I’m going to put some music on,’ I announced, and Greg looked up at me in surprise, a mug of milky coffee in each hand.
He followed me through to the living room where I scrolled through the songs on his iPad which was hooked up to the speakers until I found the song I was looking for. Then, as the guitar intro floated through the room followed by the rhythm of the drums, Greg’s face broke into a smile.
‘“Maps”,’ he whispered.
I nodded. The Yeah Yeah Yeah’s song was one we listened to all the time in the days after we first met, when Greg was still just one of my best friends and Adam was still my (mostly absent) boyfriend. We would sit in either one of our tiny bedrooms, squashed onto the bed or the rough carpet and smoke and drink and laugh. It was part of the soundtrack to the days when we had no worries, no cares, when all we had to think about was delving deep into the other one’s mind and excavating all there was to know. Right now I realised I needed to hear it to remind myself of how much Greg meant to me. To keep the fire burning, we needed to reignite the spark that had once been there.
As he placed the coffee cups carefully on the side table and walked towards me, I felt my heart rate picking up, and when he stepped into my arms and wrapped his own around me, I let myself relax into him, felt his chest press against me, breathed in his familiar citrus scent, and told myself he was all I needed.
We swayed gently, Greg’s lips pressed against my hair, mouthing the words into my hair.Then he whispered something I didn’t quite catch and I looked up at him quizzically.
‘What did you say?’
‘I just said I love you,’ he said, his voice a whisper. ‘It was part of the song. But it’s true.’
‘I love you too.’ It was so easy to say, but I did mean it. I did. ‘Shall we go to bed?’
