28.
Fifty words for snow
‘When you propose tome, please promise you won’t do it anywhere remotely public.’
As I listen to Bill’s laugh in the darkness over the sound of the wind and distant tumble of the waves as they fall lower down the beach I know I shouldn’t ever have started this. The smallest murmur of protest from him and I swear I’d have stopped. But the lack of any surprise or chiding at all on his part somehow spurs me on.
‘And absolutely no singing. I completely forbid you to sing.’
He gives a grunt. ‘That doesn’t leave me many options. What the hell am I going to do then?’
As I hear myself speaking, I’m shocked, appalled even, but I carry on anyway. We both know we’re joking, but somehow it’s like an antidote to the underlying tensions of the evening. Considering Miranda and Ambie getting engaged should have been a truly happy occasion without reservations, there were a hell of a lot of undercurrents from all directions.
‘You’ll have to be creative. Planes towing banners are definitely out. And I’d hate to have to solve a puzzle, or dig anything up. And it would be a complete nightmare being met off a plane by you holding a piece of cardboard in the arrivals hall. And I’m not thrilled at the idea of a ring buried in a cupcake either.’
He’s walking in step beside me, still playing along. ‘I had no idea you were so hard to please. How about if I just stick a notice on Merwyn?’
‘Perfect.’
‘What if you’re the one doing the asking?’
So like Bill to push this. ‘You’d like that?’ We’re walking so fast now we’re catching our breath between strides.
‘I wouldn’t be complaining.’
Hmmm. So likely. ‘You sound like you’ve been talking to Willow.’
‘We’ve got gingerbread women on the Christmas tree, it’s a logical step.’ Simply from the sound of his voice, I can tell his lips have curved into a smile.
Except none of this is logical. Even in my wildest Will-dreams back in the day I never played out a conversation like this in my head. And yet here I am walking along the beach, the sea on our left is moving up the beach, its lines of breaking foam just visible like pale stripes in the blackness, the words tumbling out of my mouth. Absurd doesn’t begin to cover it. It’s as if once we started we’re daring each other to get more and more blatant. Even though I know we’re both pretending and talking the biggest load of rubbish I’m still getting the weirdest hot and cold rainbow tingles radiating through my body. I need to watch out, this Bill bollocks could be catching.
I hung a couple of sea glass chunks round my neck yesterday and said the most outrageous things, and that was before champagne got thrown into the mix. When we toasted Miranda and Ambie earlier the bottles of bubbly kept on coming. I know I’ve knocked drinking on the head, but my bestie’s mum just got proposed to and has a rock on her finger the size of a small house to prove it. Obviously I had to have a tiny glass of fizz to celebrate, I just hadn’t expected the alcohol to multiply the sea glass effect exponentially. My only saving grace is that I didn’t invite Bill to come with Merwyn and I on our late evening phone-light walk, he was outside at the wood store and somehow just tagged along, so at least I hung onto my self respect there. And the tiny bit of self preservation instinct I have left is stepping in to save me here too so I’m moving this on.
‘As you had the champagne on ice and the glasses ready, I take it you were in on all Ambie’s plans?’ I’m watching Bill, his hands deep in the pockets of his Barbour. He’s close enough that every time we bump elbows I get a delicious burst of the oily smell of wax jacket. But we both know he’s only close because if he was further away it would be too windy for me to hear what he said.
‘He needed help with his backing track, so he had to tell me.’ Our eyes have got used to the darkness beyond the light beam from the phone and Bill’s looking up at the clouds racing above us, choosing his words before he rolls them out. ‘It was supposed to be a Christmas Day proposal, but Ambie’s a businessman, he knows the importance of closing a deal early.’
‘Milo was hell bent on wrecking things between them.’ It was supposed to be a secret, but anyone with eyes would have known.
Bill laughs. ‘That too. But Ambie’s biggest worry was losing Miranda to the surf club. If they’d got their boards out, he wouldn’t have been able to compete. That’s more what the rush was about.’
I can’t help feeling sad for Miranda. ‘If he couldn’t trust her for four more days, he’s not very sure of her.’
Bill hesitates as he thinks about it. ‘I think he was hoping that once he’d put a ring on it he could relax and enjoy being engaged.’
‘More like, if he’s her fiancé she’ll have to give all her attention to him now.’
Bill’s nodding. ‘That too. I promise I won’t be like that.’
‘Likewhat?’
‘When we’re engaged I won’t be possessive.’
I let out a squeak of protest. ‘Keep up, we stopped playing that gamewayback.’
He’s just looking down at me, unblinking. ‘We wereplaying?’
I ignore that my stomach turned a cartwheel, swallow my heart back down from where it leaped and landed in my throat, and give him a play punch on his arm. ‘Durr, you know we were.’ I know he always does this. Winds me up with a completely dead pan expression. The only way to deal with it is to go in on the attack. ‘Anyway, changing the subject …’
