‘No.’
He smiles. ‘You haven’t had your gift guiding you.’
‘That’s right.’
I think of Mum’s notebook and what she said about her gift and Dad. ‘My mum never saw anything with my dad.’
He lets out a mock groan. ‘Oh, I thought I was special there for a few moments. Like immune to magic curses.’
We both giggle, and he pulls me into a hug. ‘How do you manage this… gift?’
‘You’ve helped me a lot by encouraging me to give love a chance.’
He puts his arm around me and pulls me close.
‘That must be hard if all you see is how things end. I bet it put you off dating.’
Resting my head against his shoulder, I think about how tough it’s been. ‘The only way to survive was to lock myself away and avoid physical contact.’
I can feel him turning to face me. ‘Will you be my girlfriend, Nelly?’
‘Yes, I will, Oliver.’
Cupping my face with his warm hands, he kisses me. ‘You’re also the best kisser.’
As we kiss, my mind reminds me of my virginity. I decide to tell him everything when we break for air. ‘I will be your girlfriend, but there’s something else.’
‘What is it?’
‘You will have your work cut out with me, Oliver.’
He nods. ‘I am ready.’
‘I am not only cursed, but I am also a cursed virgin.’
He blinks for a few seconds, smiles, then kisses me on the lips. ‘You’re not cursed, and we can wait…’
I let out a wail of frustration. ‘We’re not waiting, Oliver. The sooner I say goodbye to my virginity, the better.’ The shocked look on his face makes me giggle, and then we both start to laugh.
When we leave the bench, he extends his hand to me. ‘Shall I walk you back to your flat?’
‘Yes, Papa Tiger,’ I say with a cheeky smile.
‘Careful,’ he says with a mock-deadpan expression, before we both start to laugh.
Once we’ve hugged and kissed some more, I take his hand and remember Mum’s words. This is about deciding to begin.
50
THREE MONTHS LATER
The chairs in the romance section are arranged in neat rows. The bookshop is busy, with people standing behind the chairs, some squeezed between bookcases, and a group of young women sitting cross-legged on the rug. This is the busiest author event I have seen in a long time. Not only is there pink bunting hanging up, but all the fairy lights in the shop are on. Oliver’s books are everywhere, and it looks like a secret romantic fiction cult gathering.
Miranda has chosen to wear a little black dress for the occasion. She’s no longer using her stylist. Her latest love interest is a portrait artist called Graham, who loves painting her. She spends more time at his studio than she does at the bookshop nowadays, which is a bonus for me.
I survey the familiar faces gathered to listen to his talk. In the corner are Ben and Alice, who look more loved-up than ever. His arm circles her waist, and she’s gazing up at him adoringly. Alice loves playing Monopoly and climbing trees, and it’s rumoured that they have been spotted kissing high up in trees around the town. She’s also been a big hit with Ben’s kids, including Amber, who we hardly see in here now.
Roger Ellis is sitting by me. We have kept our promise, and every week we all have dinner together. Alfie and Roger have become the best of friends.
