No need to fake the next laugh. ‘If you say so.’
He turns and walks over to me, takes me by the hand and leads me back towards the easel. Electricity jolts through me at his touch, and I get a full and X-rated flashback to the dream I’ve been valiantly trying to shove into one of my memory’s many trapdoors.
‘I do say so,’ he responds, staring at the painting. ‘It’s not pretty, but look at all that colour, all that life. It’s … honest.’
He turns to me to see how I’m weighing up what he just said. I want to look away, but I can’t. Even if he’s unable to fully put it into words, just as I couldn’t when I was creating it, he sees everything that’s there, everything I spilled onto the canvas. And I can tell he really believes it’s beautiful.
‘You said I should decorate the house more, introduce some texture and colour … Wouldn’t this be perfect? Would you … would you let me have it?’
I break eye contact and look beyond him to the river, where the sky is a warm heather-grey streaked with yellow. I don’t want the picture,but I’m not sure I want Gil to have it either. It’s too raw. Too personal.
‘Let me think about it,’ I say as I head to the kitchen to collect the cup of tea waiting for me on the counter.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Five years ago
She hasn’t seen him sitting in the darkened kitchen. As she crosses the threshold, he says ‘Hi …’ as softly as he can. She jumps back, pressing her hand to her chest. He stands and reaches for the light on the cooker hood and when he presses the button, a gentle glow fills his side of the room.
‘You scared the life out of me!’ she says, laughing nervously. Her face shows she’s considering sprinting back upstairs. It’s so easy to read her now, even though it’s the first time he’s seen her since she’s been away. He feels as if he knows her inside and out.
‘Sorry. Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t mean to scare you.’ Her expression doesn’t change at all as he issues his apology, and he adds, ‘I thought you were Simon.’
At the mention of his best friend’s name, she begins to glow again, even while she glances awkwardly at the floor. Gil tries not to notice her bare legs under Si’s shirt.
‘I just came to get some water.’
He nods, reaches into a cupboard, pulls out a glass and fills it from the tap for her.
‘Thanks,’ she says as she takes it from him. Her gaze shoots to the ceiling,where Simon must be snoozing above them and then back to the tiled floor.
He’s torn. On one hand, he can’t stand being so close while she’s treating him like he’s a stranger, but on the other, he’s waited so long to be in the same room with her, it feels like a wrench to get up and leave. He does it anyway. She’s feeling awkward, and he doesn’t want to do anything to cause her even the slightest discomfort.
As he passes her, he can smell her perfume – something floral with an edge of sandalwood, a fitting mix for a woman of so many facets, so many contradictions. ‘Night, E.’
‘Night,’ she replies softly as he walks down the hallway and closes his bedroom door behind him.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Present Day
Simon doesn’t call. Not on Tuesday or Wednesday, not even on Thursday. I get a hurried text from him the next morning:
Sorry! Training course ran on and then we all went out to the pub.
They need to know TOMORROW!I message back.
Has he forgotten this?
I wait a few minutes for his response. What’s so hard? Is he going to call me or not?
Yeah, let’s do ithe replies.
I frown and tap back a reply.The call?
The wedding!
Oh. I wasn’t expecting that, but I suppose a decision is what I’ve been waiting for. I stare at the screen.
