‘I think that kind of compatibility – or com-pickle-bility if you will – isn’t necessarily restricted to romantic relationships. The gherkins don’t lie,’ he declared to Trafalgar Square. ‘We’re bonded for life now whether that’s as friends or… whatever.’
‘Or whatever,’ she repeated, not daring to look at him but feeling the weight of his gaze on her.Lorelai, she warned herself.Don’t play with fire.
As they approached the National Gallery, the sound of a guitar filled the air. The sun was high above them now but the air was still chilly. Lorelai pulled her coat around her and shoved her hands into her pockets to avoid any further accidental hand grazes. Any more of that and she knew she’d cave right then and there.
‘He’s not bad, is he?’ Grayson paused next to the small crowd gathered around the guitarist.
Lorelai listened for a moment. The young boy’s fingers darted up and down the fretboard, plucking a delicate and melancholic melody. The boy’s eyes were closed; he was completely lost in the emotion of whatever this song meant to him.
‘Very,’ Lorelai agreed. ‘But that’s coming from someone whose only musical experience is two singing lessons in primary school.’
‘Just two? Why did you stop?’
‘I gave it up after my teacher told me I couldn’t carry a tune even if it had handles.’
Grayson barked his laughter, startling an old lady in front of them who tutted and shook her head at him, as she walked away.
He’s got the biggest, happiest laugh. I could just—Lorelai shook herself. Enough of that.
‘I trust your instinct though.’ Lorelai gestured back to the boy. ‘You work in the theatre and spend all that time around musical types; you must have a much better grasp on what’s good and what’s not.’ She was leaning in towards him, closing the distance between their walking bodies. Their shoulders pressed together and she liked the way it felt. Solid. Strong.Normal.
‘Sometimes I just look at young kids like this and think what if he’s the next Ed Sheeran and none of us know it yet? What if we’re watching TV in a few years’ time and he’s on it and all these people just wandered past without so much as a glance?’ Grayson was nodding along to the rhythm.
‘Or what if he has the capability to be the next Ed Sheeran but the right people don’t discover him?’ she said, becoming more entranced by the song too.
‘Exactly. Not many people get their big break. That’s why I pay attention to these street performers. They’re doing what they feel they were born to do, and so I think they deserve a bit of our attention.’
The song ended and they clapped their appreciation. They pulled away from the crowd before he began his next song and wandered towards the fountain. Their pace had slowed, both aware their time together was coming to an end, their hesitant steps a silent pact to draw out these last few moments for as long as they could. Lorelai spotted a couple sat on the edge of one of the fountains, playfully splashing each other until the moment sweptthem into a kiss. Lorelai looked away, a lump in her throat. What must it be like to kiss someone so easily, for a kiss to just be a kiss?
‘So what were you born to do, Grayson Brady?’ Lorelai asked in an effort not to dwell on her thoughts for too long.
‘Good question.’ Grayson looked thoughtful. ‘I was born to look after people, I think.’
‘So a doctor or a nurse? Or a carer?’
‘Nah, I’m too squeamish for anything like that. I even fainted during my flu jab last year.’ Lorelai liked how he was comfortable being vulnerable, and laughing at himself. ‘But there are other ways to look after people. Making them feel loved and valued. Making sure they’re warm and listened to. Even if it’s just the few people around you. Nothing makes me happier than making sure Mum, Dad, my aunt and Aden are well cared for.’
That warmth again. A pang of guilt squeezed Lorelai’s heart. What sort of daughter had she become, to have pushed her loving parents so far away?
‘What about you?’ he asked ‘What were you born to do?’
That wasn’t the same question as what do youwantto do. She wanted to adapt books and write scripts and spend her life on film sets. But what was shebornto do? Was her ability something she was born with because she was meant to use it somehow? What was its purpose? To prophesise about death? To what end? Was there someone somewhere who was meant to know their death date to try to stop it? Lorelai realised she’d not spoken for a few moments. Grayson must be seconds away from waving a hand in front of her blank face.
‘I don’t know,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m one of those people who will inevitably spend my life aimlessly wandering around,without really figuring it out.’ She laughed but the sound was sharp and strangled.
‘You’ll figure it out, Lorelai.’ Grayson paused by one of the fountains and hopped up to sit on its damp edge. ‘You’re too cool not to.’
She leaned next to him. She’d misjudged the distance between them and was leaning at an angle that meant they were now very close. Moving away would look awkward and rude. The devil in her, the wild and carefree side of her, loved being this close to him but the cautious side of her, the angel on her other shoulder, was telling her to walk away as quickly as possible. To head back to the flat, back to where life was safe and made sense.
The angel won. ‘This has been lovely,’ Lorelai said. ‘It’s nice to make new friends.’
‘Hmmm,’ he said, non-committally. The way his eyes shone at her made the devil on her shoulder very excited.
‘Did you know the artist who made the lion statues got something slightly wrong?’ she said quickly, giving herself something else to focus on, other than his beautiful, full lips.
‘What?’ Grayson shook his head, confused. Her complete one-eighty even had her head spinning. One minute she’s saying they’re friends and the next she was thinking about his lips.
Get your act together, Lorelai,said her angel.
