“You’re happier,” Stormy continued, nodding at him before taking a bite of his sandwich and washing it down with some tea.
It wasn’t what Tom was expecting him to say. “I am,” he said. “I really am.”
“I’m glad.” He put his sandwich down and shuffled back in his seat. “You weren’t holding yourself well last time. Sagging shoulders and eyes all dark and full of sadness. And your voice... it had no melody to it. When all you do is watch people all day, you pick up on this stuff. The little parts that make someone human.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t a good time for me,” Tom said. “I’m not sure I realized quite how bad it was though. Quite how badIwas.”
Stormy shrugged. “We never do,” he said. “Things are only ever clear looking back. When we’re in it, we’re just busy trying to get through it. Like this,” he said, nodding to his leg. “This is shit, but I probably won’t realize just how shit until it’s better. If it gets better,” he said, gazing off into the distance. “Sorry. You’ve caught me on a bad day.”
“That’s okay,” Tom said. “I’m actually hoping I can make your day a bit better.” Tom swallowed, wrapping his hands around his coffee. He felt his heartbeat quicken, his throat tight. “I sold that photo of you,” he said. “At my exhibition. And the money’s just come in and well, we had a deal, me and you.”
Stormy locked eyes with Tom, and he couldn’t read them. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but they’d lit up more at the offer of breakfast than they had now. Now they seemed dull.Dark and full of sadness, the way Stormy had described Tom’s eyes as being the last time they’d seen each other.
“I’ve got ten thousand pounds to give you,” Tom said, unsure how to keep going.
Stormy stared straight past Tom, not saying anything. He didn’t move or react in any way. Tom watched for raised eyebrows or one of his famous toothy grins, but there was nothing. Stillness. Slowly, as Tom kept his gaze on Stormy’s face, the rims of the man’s eyes filled with tears.
“For me?” he whispered eventually.
Tom nodded. “For you.” He matched his tone. He realized now that Stormy didn’t need some big reveal as though he were a winner on a game show. That it seemed to only be sinking in, very slowly, bit by bit.
“So I can say I’m a model?” he muttered, a smile now breaking gently across his face.
“I guess you can,” Tom said.
“I don’t...” Stormy moved his head, finally meeting Tom’s eye. “I don’t know what to say.”
Tom breathed in, understanding. “You don’t need to say anything,” he replied, realizing he meant it. Had he gone there hoping for some sort of rapturous response to his act of kindness? Perhaps he had, but he had learned recently that you shouldn’t have such expectations of people. That you shouldn’t put them on a pedestal, or wish for them to behave in a certain way; you just loved them, flaws and all.
Stormy finished his sandwich in silence and Tom joined him, sipping on his coffee and trying to allow himself to just... be. He already couldn’t wait to go home and tell Daisy all about it. To relay it to her as together they traveled to Heathrow and onward to South Korea. He knew how she’d respond, but still he wanted to relive this moment with her. He wanted to relive every single one of his moments with her, but with a veryhealthy dose of alone time, as taught to him byOrlando. Solitude was important too.
All of his questions were gone. How Stormy would spend the money. The first thing he’d do with it. Whether he thought it might change his life in any way. Tom was sure Stormy was having those thoughts, but also, maybe, he wasn’t, and that was okay.
The one other customer in the café stood up and pulled open the door, leaving just Stormy and Tom alone at the table. Very slowly Stormy’s shoulders started to shake, his whole body gradually moving with them until he was rocking, a loud barking laugh breaking free from his mouth as a smile stretched across Tom’s own face and he leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling, and laughed too. He laughed so hard, just as he had at that laughter retreat Stormy had told him about. He felt the fizz of joy trickle up through his body, happiness spreading like a stream through his bones the way he’d learned that it could and together they stayed that way. They stayed, across from each other, shoulders shaking as they laughed for a very, very long time.
NINE MONTHS LATER
Chapter Thirty-Five
Daisy
Daisy’s eyes landed on the timetable for the bus as she checked her watch again, before staring up the road and back to the timetable. The N73 always came when it said it would. There wasn’t that much that could go wrong with the roads at 4:00 a.m., it seemed. Except today. Today the timetable had saidduefor the last ten minutes but there was no sign of it.
She pulled her phone from her pocket out of habit, but there was no one she needed to tell. She wasn’t even running late, because she could choose whatever hours she wanted to work, it was just that most days she still chose to do the early shift. Perhaps it was the one gift her dad had left her with—to enjoy that early part of the day—or maybe it made her feel closer to Tom who was often away with his work, taking breathtaking photos that Daisy may have been biased about, but was fairly sure were changing the world. His most recent series had been portraits of influential women shaping history, and she’d shaken her head in disbelief when he casually sent a selfie with Greta Thunberg and Michelle Obama. He was currently away for the week taking some photos for Daisy’s latest news story about a group of women who turned into amateur sleuths and discovered their husbands were undercover police officers. It was a story that wasabout to be published after Daisy had worked tirelessly on it for three months—some of the greatest months of her life.
On her phone was a message from Clara—a selfie of her and Leisha at the airport, ready to fly back to London. Having Clara go back and forth had taught Daisy how important she was to her, and even better than that, Leisha was becoming important too. She was slightly more gentle than Clara, her advice perhaps more considered. They complemented each other in a way that Daisy knew would last.
Can’t wait to see you both!she replied, putting her phone back in her pocket as she checked again for any signs of the bus. She swiveled the watch on her wrist, thinking about how much her mum had underplayed the value of her dad’s watches when she mentioned them at the wedding. She’d called Daisy and Dan a few weeks later to say that it turned out they’d been sitting on a small fortune for years with a Hublot Big Bang hiding in their house and that she and Silly Billy—now just Billy—were taking themselves to TGI’s to celebrate. Less than a month later their mum, through their dad, had gifted Daisy and Dan one hundred thousand pounds each. It was enough to pay off a huge chunk of the mortgage on the flat Daisy had owned with Zack, finally making it affordable. Zack had signed the property over into Daisy’s name the moment he heard how much he’d get in the buyout and had turned up the next day to hand her back the key. “I hope one day you realise that everything I did was because of how much I loved you. And when all of this blows up, you’ll be on your own. Just remember that,” he’d said, walking away, and Daisy had closed the door without comment. The only way her life had blown up was in size. It was bigger and better than she’d ever imagined it could be.
She checked the timetable again, still seeing the worddue. Two more minutes and she’d give up and do what? She stopped to ask herself the question, waiting until she heard the answer. She’dpick up her kit and go to the gym for a swim—a sport she was now in love with. That’s what she’d do. Just as she was about to turn away, the bus appeared around the corner and Daisy frowned as she took in the sign on the front. N73–SPECIAL. When the double doors opened, she stepped on.
Looking down the aisle, she was met by a stream of people filling all the seats, heads bent down so all she could make out of the passengers were woolly hats or baseball caps or, in some cases, heads of hair. There was only one row of seats that wasn’t taken, and it was her usual one.
She reached into her bag to pay, but the driver put his hand over the machine, staring straight ahead.
Frowning, Daisy started walking toward her seat.
Just then the whole of the ground floor of the bus lit up with fairly lights and Daisy’s favorite album by Hollow Coves started playing gently from somewhere at the back.
