Dozy now and satisfied, calmer, Ashleigh lay back on her pillow. She liked watching Archie get dressed, the care he took in his practised movements, slipping his arms into his shirt, pulling on his trousers. It felt just as intimate as the sex they had just shared. No longer paying heed to the clock, caring less if they made it for drinks, she sat still, hair tousled, her skin still singing with the memory of his touch. Despite it being mere minutes since their union, in her gut rose a deep ache of want that was present whenever he was close by. In that minute, if Archie had suggested they forfeit the ball altogether and spend the night in bed with crisps and wine, she’d have agreed in a heartbeat, no matter she’d miss the opportunity to wear her frock.
‘I have a little surprise for you.’ He spoke into her mirror, as he popped his cufflinks back into the double cuffs of his dinner shirt, fastened the bow tie that she’d hastily undone and thrown into the air, and smoothed his now tousled hair with his palms.
‘Ooh, I like surprises!’
That wasn’t strictly true; she found the thought of them to be agony, wary of being unprepared for any event or happening that might require preparation and planning. The idea of being whisked off on an unexpected sunshine break with hairy legs and a lack of personal grooming was enough to bring her out in hives, but any surprise from Archie was going to be wonderful. Plus, alittle surprise was going to be just that, a bottle of something cold he’d popped into her fridge, flowers he’d asked Fran to arrange? Her smile broadened at the possibilities.
‘My parents are coming to the pre-ball drinks.’
‘Your parents?’
She sat back against the pillow and took a moment to let her pulse settle. This was huge, nothing little about it. It was a big deal, and it was too much! She wasn’t ready to meet his parents, not yet! They’d only been dating for a short while, and while she knew it was love, she found herself completely thrown by the thought of having to make a good impression on his mum and dad.
In her mind she would meet them eventually after asking lots of pertinent questions and building a picture that would help her chameleon her way into their favour – if they liked Greek architecture she’d gen up, if they favoured cinnamon over lemon she’d bake cookies awash with the bloody stuff! This felt a lot like going in blind and she was instantly petrified. It was another way in which she missed Remy, knowing that in her early years, when she had been one half of the little doves, she’d rarely had to face anything alone and nothing was ever going to be that awful because her twin was within reach.
And the one thing she hadn’t been able to face, Remy had taken care of.
This thought, as ever, a pill coated with shame and guilt that was still very hard to swallow. The prospect of Archie finding out that she’d effectively stolen her sister’s scholarship left her a little clammy, with that tingling in her limbs and a feeling like she was in freefall.
Her body shivered at the thought of having to make small talk with the Fitches. It was always there in the background, the unpalatable thought that she felt less than, when compared to someone who had grown up as Archie and Guy had. Not for hera country house in Gloucestershire, a London pad for when they were in town, summers spent idling on the Amalfi coast, a low red sports car waiting on the gravel driveway when she passed her driving test, a love of sailing, a chunky gold signet ring bearing the family crest gifted to her on her eighteenth birthday; no trust fund, no attending a truly prestigious public school like Clifton because it was where her father and grandfather had gone, and therefore no membership of the Old Cliftonian Society that held meet-ups worldwide for its alumni. None of that. Attending St. Jude’s held some weight locally, but it wasn’t one ofthepublic schools that people knew of.
It shouldn’t have made a difference, of course it shouldn’t, but it did.
And it wasn’t entirely about money, but more about the things money allowed you to do, the access it gave you to other worlds! The things you learned on your travels, the freedom and confidence that came with such a life that meant you were comfortable asking questions, stating an opinion, exploring, and expanding your horizon beyond the corner of the street where Mrs Jenkins lived in a house with three spare bedrooms.Three!It was far from pleasant, living with the fear of meeting new people and having nothing of value to say.
She wasn’tashamedof how and where she had grown up, not even a bit, but she was acutely aware that it might matter to others, specifically Archibald Oxton Fitch’s parents.
‘Gosh, that’s ...’ She swallowed, not wanting to dim the light of excitement in his eyes.
‘You’re going to love them. Elaine is a hoot! And Dickie will rib you, he does all my friends, he’s known for it, but he’s great fun. There’s no harm in him.’
‘And is that how you’re going to introduce me, as one of your friends?’ She hated how much she craved his words of reassurancethat would in turn fuel her confidence to go and meet Elaine and Dickie.
Archie twisted his cummerbund until it was sitting neatly over the waistband of his trousers, before taking a seat on the edge of her single bed. He reached for her hand and the two locked eyes. She held her breath, unsure if he was about to offer the reassurance she craved or if he’d had a change of heart and was about to break up with her. It was torturous, waiting. He shook his head.
‘No, I’m going to introduce you as Ashleigh Brett, my girlfriend.’
She tightened her grip on his hand, as relief and a rush of breath made answering impossible; a nod would have to suffice.
‘Truth is’ – he licked his lips, took his time – ‘I love you, Ash. I do, I love you. You are under my skin and inside my bones, part of me.’
It was as these words flew from his mouth and spiralled out of the sash window, with wings of hope and promise beating fast, carrying them into the night sky where they would land among the stars, that the emotion she had been trying to contain burst from her. Tears ran down her face and her mouth twisted.
‘I love you too, Archie, I really, really do!’ This, the first time she had said it out loud and a moment she knew she wouldn’t forget, not ever.
‘Don’t cry, Ashleigh Brett. Please don’t cry.’ He leaned forward and rested his forehead on hers, and there they sat for a while, revelling in the closeness of this new and thrilling world into which they had stepped.
It was wonderful, magic, the fairy tale! And as he held her close, running his fingers over the knobbles of her spine as she fell into him, she felt her nerves melt away. Anything and everything was possible because Archibald Oxton Fitch loved her. Helovedher! She was under his skin and inside his bones and that was, she knew, a place she could happily stay forever.
Remy
Remy linked arms with Tony as he walked around all the doors, locking and checking his mum’s car.
‘Where first, Anchor?’ They fell into step. She quite liked the Anchor and really liked the look of a boy who worked behind the bar there sometimes, not that she’d be sharing this with Tony, knowing his capacity for meddling.
‘Why not. And remember, if anyone asks, we’re not a couple!’
‘And as I said, my love, I really don’t think that’s why we are both single.’ She nudged him with her elbow. ‘Would you like to meet someone?’
