Mariah would be so proud.
“Where to, mate?” the taxi driver asks, looking at me over his shoulder.
“Hundred and forty-six, Tufnell Park Road,” I say. I sink back into the leather seat, my heart pounding against my rib cage, as the taxi pulls away.
We did it.
We did it.
Several road diversions and thirty minutes later, we pull up opposite my sister’s apartment. I tap the card reader with my phone before opening the door.
One last hurdle.
Getting out of the taxi is harder than expected. The suitcase is heavy and I’m trying to be as gentle as possible. Thankfully, it has four wheels, which makes it a little easier to move. I slip my backpack back on and close the door behind me.
“Almost there,” I say, tapping the suitcase as the taxi pulls away.
He taps back twice in acknowledgment, just as a hipster walks past, who cuts me a weird look. Ironic, given that his hair looks like his mum put a bowl round it and his cardigan lost a battle to a group of moths.
I do a quick scan of the road to ensure that I haven’t been followed before pushing the suitcase across. Adrenaline courses through my veins at lightning speed. I haven’t felt this pumped since the day Stephen and I bunked off school to go to Thorpe Park.
I reach the entrance and enter the code in the padlocked box outside my sister’s apartment. Her keys fall out and I unlock the door. With one final push of the suitcase over the skirting, we’re finally in the clear.
I let out a deep exhale and unzip the suitcase. Alexander almost falls out before getting to his feet and lunging toward me.
“That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” he says. His arms are locked around my neck, and he leans in and kisses me passionately. Sweat drips from his forehead.
“God help you when you find out what I’ve got planned for you next then,” I say.
“What?” His face lights up as he grabs the suitcase and follows me up the stairs.
“A coffin box,” I say, craning my neck back when I get to Kelly’s door. His nostrils flare and his smile disappears as I slide the key in the door and open it.
Kelly’s studio apartment is small, but cozy. It’s enough space for Kelly and Daniel to live in, but just barely. The beiges, whites, and browns used for the walls and furniture give the place more of a beach vibe than a place in Central London.
It seems weird to have their bed in the same place as their couch, which I’ve spent more nights sleeping on than I’d like to remember. But I guess you don’t get much bang for your buck in London these days. Thankfully, they’ll be moving out into a two-bedroom house after their wedding and then I’ll have my own room to crash in.
I head into the kitchen, throwing the keys on the small round table, and grab two glasses, filling them with water. I hand one to Alexander, who chugs it in three gulps.
“The thirst is real,” I say with a smirk.
“You try being stuck in a suitcase for nearly forty minutes and see how you get on,” he fires back, placing his glass down on the table.
“Fair point,” I say, taking another gulp myself.
“Where are we going then?” Alexander asks, rubbing his hands together.
“All will be revealed in good time,” I say, taking one last gulp, grabbing his glass and placing both in the sink before heading back into the main room.
I grab the car keys off the bedside cabinet next to the alarm clock, and pick up a box, topped with a bow, that Kelly left lying against the couch for me this morning. Then I open the front door and motion him out.
We head out onto the main street, closing the building door tightly behind us, and across to where Daniel’s black Fiat Punto sits.
“Wrong side,” I say to Alexander, as he goes to open the door on the driver’s side.
He hits his head with the palm of his hand as he lets out a laugh and then runs around to the passenger side.
I chuck the box in the back and adjust the seat, strapping myself in, and slide the key in to start the engine. I curse under my breath that Daniel drives a manual rather than automatic before reminding myself that I should be grateful to even be able to do this.
