I had strict instructions from Emma about what to bring. She was bringing the food and some music, I was bringing the wine and a couple of blankets.
The day passed so excruciatingly slowly that there were a couple of times when I had to check it hadn’t ground to a halt entirely. Who knew what tricks time would play with me now?
But finally, seven o’clock arrived. We’d arranged to meet at seven thirty, when we were fairly sure that, in April, most peoplewould have gone home and nobody would disturb us. The last thing we needed was for someone to come into the bandstand while we were there, bringing our date to an abrupt end.
I shoved two blankets into my rucksack – one was a checked one that Dawn had wrapped herself in after chemo and it made my heart ache at the memory – and got the two bottles of champagne I’d bought out of the fridge and put them in a cool bag with a couple of ice blocks. It was still light outside, but clouds were gathering on the horizon. I wondered what the weather was like in 2019.
As I walked towards the park gates, I tried to keep my mind from spiralling. Even though Emma and I had met several times over the last few weeks, this felt like we were taking the next step. Except neither of us knew what that might mean for us. Whether it could even mean anything at all.
I was also trying not to think about kissing her. Since that first time a couple of weeks before, we hadn’t kissed again. But I could still remember the explosion in my veins as our lips touched, and feel the electricity spark along my skin. Would we kiss again tonight – and would it be the same the second time round? I shivered in anticipation.
I turned the corner and the bandstand was in sight. I knew now not to feel worried when it looked empty, but I still felt a beat of anxiety in the split second before I stepped up onto the raised platform. What if she’d changed her mind?
‘Hey,’ she said, appearing instantly. She stepped forward, a shy smile on her face. It was cloudy here, but where Emma was the sun was shining and the low light of the late evening sun caught in her hair so that she looked as though she was illuminated from the inside.
‘You look absolutely fucking radiant,’ I said, before my mind could even think about what I was saying.
‘Thank you,’ she said, glancing down at herself as a faint blush rose on her cheeks. She was wearing a long red dress that trailed on the ground and a short leather jacket. Trainers poked out from beneath the bottom of her skirt. I felt underdressed in my checked shirt and jeans.
We stood for a moment, staring at each other. Then she turned and pointed behind her. ‘I’ve put up fairy lights, can you see them?’ she said.
‘Oh, I can!’ I said. The string of lights was strung along the rickety old roof, giving the tired old place a magical look.
‘I wasn’t sure if you would be able to,’ she said. ‘I’m still surprised by how this thing works every day.’
‘Me too.’ I placed my bag on the bench and unzipped it. ‘I’ve got blankets,’ I said, handing her one. ‘And I have champagne!’ I handed her a bottle with a flourish.
‘Ooh, you went posh,’ she said.
I shrugged. ‘It feels like a special occasion,’ I said.
‘It really does, doesn’t it?’ she said, quietly.
We bustled about for a few seconds, Emma laying out the rest of the food on the picnic blanket she’d brought, me trying to help. Tubs of houmous, salsa, cream cheese, a packet of smoked salmon, olives, a baguette, packets of crisps in shiny packets, some raspberries, a box of chocolates. ‘Thank you, this look amazing,’ I said.
‘I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I just chose a bit of everything,’ she said.
‘It’s perfect.’
‘Do you want to sit on the blanket on the floor, or would you prefer the bench?’
I glanced down at the dusty floor, covered in old leaves and bird droppings and a couple of rusty cans. ‘Is the floor nice over there?’ I said.
‘It’s not bad,’ she said.
‘It’s pretty gross here.’
She grinned. ‘Let’s sit here then.’
We sat side by side on the bench. I suddenly felt very shy, and as I stared out into the darkening evening, I tried to work out what to say.
‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this all day,’ Emma said.
‘Me neither,’ I admitted. I turned to look at her and she was already watching me, her eyes roaming over my face. I felt my skin flush.
‘I don’t really know how to do this,’ I said.
‘Neither do I,’ she whispered. ‘But there is something we could do to break the tension.’
