I smile too, then glance at my watch. ‘Only two minutes to go. Right. Better say our goodbyes.’
‘Can I go first?’ Josh sets down the bottle and shuffles round to face me, drawing me in to the low valley of his gaze. ‘Well, I should probably just say... it’s been the privilege of my life to know and love you, Mrs Foster.’
I prod a finger against his ribcage. ‘Hey. I don’t want be the last thing you ever say to me to be a joke.’
‘It’s not,’ he whispers, then leans forward and kisses me as, above our heads, the clock strikes midnight and the world explodes.
Up there, everywhere could be burning. But down here, right now, we would not know, or care.
2.
Rachel
January 2000
‘Has the world ended?’ Josh whispers. ‘Is everything broken? Burning? Underwater?’
I can’t deny that from between the clashing chords of my hangover some notes of relief are breaking through. The world – as far as we know – has remained intact.
Still. No amount of existential solace is going to counteract the effects of that vintage magnum we stole.
‘All of the above,’ I groan. ‘This is my punishment, isn’t it, for thieving champagne?’
Josh kisses me, a deep, hotel-room kiss, palms gripping my hips. His skin smells faintly of musk and moss, the fading haze of the night before. I reach beneath the covers, move my hand down, feel him smile.
‘Well, technically,Ithieved,’ he says. ‘You were just an unwitting accessory.’
‘We should punish you, then.’
‘Fine by me.’ In the lightless bedroom, his fingers skim my underwear. I shut my eyes, feel my heart begin to freewheel as his hand parts my thighs.
Then, a hammering on the door. We jerk away from each other, laughing.
‘Hello?’ Josh growls, rearranging the quilted bedspread to cover our rapidly heating limbs.
The door swings open. It’s Polly’s husband, Darren, wearing a wax jacket and flat cap. This look on him is a touch absurd, given that he’s usually to be found scuffing around in trainers andripped jeans, and is wiry and loose-limbed in a nineties indie band, don’t-give-a-shit kind of way.
‘Hey,’ he says. ‘How come you guys got the four-poster?’
Josh tries and fails to smother a laugh. ‘What the fuck are you wearing?’
‘It’s nearly eleven, you pair of wastrels.’
We both just blink at him.
‘Time for the pre-lunch Long Walk.’
‘You say that like it’s a thing,’ Josh says.
‘It is. Well, today, at least.’ Darren strides into the room.
‘Go anywhere near those curtains and I won’t be responsible for my actions.’
Undeterred, Darren wrenches them open, flooding the room with light. The sky outside is so bright it looks white. ‘Come on. Be downstairs in ten minutes.’
‘Why are you like this?’ Josh says, shading his eyes.
‘You can’t fester in bed on the first morning of the new millennium.’
