He nodded. ‘I did. I waited all day, but you never showed. And I couldn’t blame you for that. I mean, I left promising the world and then … nothing. It must have looked like I’d ghosted you. You probably wrote me off as a complete loser and moved on with your life.’
She sighed heavily. ‘That would be a reasonable assumption. But you know what?’
‘What?’
‘I’d like to go back and give Past Lili a slap, tell her to get over her hurt feelings and just have a little faith that things would turn out, that life didn’t always have to be the worst-case scenario, and then we’d have met up, and we’d have known whether it was meant to be or not. I might not have ended up in the mess I’m in now if we had.’
‘What mess would that be? Standing on the end of the pier with a complete and utter numpty?’
She laughed at that.
‘No. You know what I mean …’ She turned to look towards the town and vast cast-iron tower that dominated the Blackpool skyline. ‘But I obviously never forgot you.’
His chest squeezed at her words. He’d never forgotten her either, no matter how hard he’d tried.
‘I’m still wearing this …’ she said, looking down to pick up the little silver bee between thumb and forefinger, feeling its wings and body with her fingertips. ‘And when I was lost and alone, when I was most vulnerable …’ She looked up and met his eyes. ‘I came and found you.’
Even with the brisk sea breeze, there was a stillness to the air around them. He looked into Alice’s eyes and found everything he’d ever hoped to see there. Forgiveness. Understanding. Not just for that one stupid mistake but for everything, even who he was. It felt like slipping under, and it would be so easy to get caught in that riptide and be swept away.
‘I apologise for being such an idiot. If I hurt you in any way, even though it was never my intent, even though you don’t remember any of it, I’m so terribly sorry.’
‘It’s okay.’ The smile she gave him was so sweet, so soft, that he knew it really was. But then her eyes took on a cheeky glint.‘Now … did you mention that I could whoop your ass at pinball? Because I saw a couple of tables when we walked through the amusements …’
Alice and Ben collapsed, laughing, into a pair of seats onboard the London-bound bus as the doors hissed closed. The service from Blackpool had got in almost an hour late, and they’d had to sprint through Manchester bus station, Ben dragging her along behind him. They’d made it with thirty seconds to spare.
Alice’s heart was hammering. She looked across at Ben, also breathing heavily, and they smiled at each other. It was only then that she realised they hadn’t let go of each other’s hands.
He looked down to where their fingers were joined, his much larger hand entwined with hers, and his expression grew serious.This is stupid,they both seemed to say to each other without words, without even breathing.We should probably let go.
Ben dragged his eyes from hers, turned to look out the window, and she felt the wrench of it. But his hand remained wrapped around hers. Warm. Solid. Comforting. Like it belonged there. Like it had always belonged there.
We’re going to ignore it, then. We’re going to pretend we’re not doing this.
All she could think of, as the bus pulled away and edged its way out of the city, was how terrified she’d been when she’d set out on this journey, so much so that she’d practically fainted in the middle of Glasgow Central. It felt like she’d lived a year since then.
What a difference to the woman who had just run through Manchester bus station, adrenaline pumping, eyes sparkling. She didn’t know how, and she didn’t know why, but she was changing. And she had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the man sitting beside her.
And it wasn’t because he’d done anything or said anything to make her change. She didn’t feel as if she’d become someone else. How could she, when she didn’t even know who she was in the first place? Ben hadn’t defined her. He hadn’t presented her with a version of herself to be swallowed whole and accepted. He’d merely given her room to find out, had been by her side for the journey.
She moved her thumb, running it over the skin at the base of his knuckle, and felt him shiver in response. His fingers hugged hers more firmly. She glanced up at him. He was still staring out of the window, but his expression had taken on a fierceness that made her heart ache.
When they got to London this evening, it couldn’t be goodbye. It just couldn’t.
And she couldn’t let herself forget him again, either. She had to hold on to the memories of what had happened over the last few days and learn to mesh them with the memories of her old life, like the doctor had said. Otherwise, all these wonderful moments, snowballs and frosty piers, would be swept away, and he’d go back to being the jerk who’d never called her. It made what she was doing with her travel diary even more important.
But you don’t know if you’re free … Maybe it would be better to forget? Why torture yourself yearning after something you can never have?
Slowly, she eased her fingers from Ben’s, pretending she needed to reach inside her handbag for a tissue and blew her nose, even though there was no desperate need. He moved his hand back into his lap. She could tell he understood.
Oh, thisnot knowingwas really starting to get to her. How could she make any choices, take charge of her life in any real sense, if everything in it remained a total mystery?
But at least she was learning to trust herself. And her gut said this thing between her and Ben was good. It was right. Surely she wouldn’t be feeling like this – wonky memory or no wonky memory – if she truly loved someone else? There were some things a heart didn’t forget.
Chapter Forty-Three
Six weeks before the wedding.
JUSTIN WANTED TO come into the bridal boutique with Lo and me, but I put my foot down. If I hadn’t wandered off and ended up at Mum and Dad’s, he wouldn’t even have been here with us. It was bad luck for him to see the dress, I reminded him. He’d just have to trust that I would pick well. And by that, I meant nothing strapless or backless, or with a short skirt. Something classy and traditional. Those had been his preferences. In the end, I opted for something that looked a bit like Grace Kelly’s wedding gown. You couldn’t get much more classy and elegant than that, could you?
