Tom bent down to pick up the huge rectangular thing that he’d rested against the wall of the building they were next to. He pulled off the tape that was holding its brown paper wrapping in place, then turned it to face her.
It was a photograph of her.
‘It’s one of the test shots I did from the shoot with Zack,’ Tom explained. ‘You refused to look at them, remember? This one is my favourite … You’re so beautiful in it, because you look natural, real … Like who you really are.’
In the A3 image, her big brown eyes were gleeful and alive – full of wit, as if she was about to make a joke. Her skin was smooth and creamy, and her lips were parted in a half-smile. Her hair tumbled over one shoulder, an unruly mass of shining auburn waves.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Rachel said.
Tom grinned. ‘Say I’m your Superman again.’
‘Oh, shut up,’ Rachel said, shoving him, then raised herself onto her tiptoes to smile up at his face.
‘Gladly,’ he whispered, and bent down to kiss her again.
August
New Year’sOngoing resolutions
1. Consider exercise an act with actual benefits – both mental and physical – not merely grim punishment for pizzas consumed.Have a proper go atContinue letting Greg drag me to yoga.provided he refrains from making snide comments re Jack/me and Jack.Give up trying to control subject matter discussed over dinner.
2.Also re-downloadComplete Couch to 5K running app andactually do the programme.Keep running at least twice per week, sometimes with hot boyfriend who it’s totally fine to ogle.–alwaysbeing careful not to perv on anyone improper.
3. Apply for promotion at work at first chance. Move to bigger account and try to get pay rise. Avoid, if possible, further projects concerning dog biscuits, disinfectant, high-quality printer ink cartridges, ‘miracle’ grass seed, organic vegetables, etc.
3a.Try to enjoy job without stressing about it so much.(and temper) despite idiocy of gossipy colleagues. presence of evil ex-boyfriend hideousness control-freakery of certain clients.
3b. Ignore everyone who keeps banging on about how fit he Jack is.
3c. Ignore how fit he is.
3d. Ignore the fact he keeps trying to be friendly/nice/possibly quite flirtatious is openly trying to shag me.
3e. Ignore the fact he is getting divorced.
4. DO NOT agree to further dates with Laurence. Remember: it’s no use having a boyfriend who is good on paper if you do not actually fancy him.
4. Forget that Laurence even EXISTS (despite usefulness of overblown ‘romantic’ gestures for creating illusion of deeply devoted boyfriend. Try not to spin any more tales re ‘boyfriend’ though – don’t want story to get too complicated … ) – situation is already quite complicated enough.
5. Try to remember Mum means well – she just wants me to be happy, even during phone calls where she implies I am doomed to a lonely life of penury because I am thirty with no partner, hardly any savings and no mortgage insists on talking about the babies/breasts of people I went to school with.
6. HOWEVER,do not(!!!) speak to Mum when suffering PMT. Set phone alerts for likely spells based on period tracker intel.
7. Try to address ‘hardly any savings’ situation.(If promoted, set aside extra earnings for future house deposit instead of spaffing it all on ASOS.)(Do not spend entire pay rise on ‘cheer up’ treats to distract from heinous ex-boyfriend mess.) hot new outfits for work – see 3c.)
8. Try to eat my five-a-day. (Remember horrid rule that potatoes do not count.)
9.Start using proper night cream with retinol.SERIOUSLY.Regularly apply retinol cream purchased from Boots in pursuit of perfect, Dev-style skin.
10.Do the best possible job helping Tom with exhibition. Be supportive and discreet re Oscar. Avoid arguing with Tom about Jack.Sort things out with Tom somehow.Kiss Tom as often as is humanly possible.
11. Be a good friend (and bridesmaid) to Anna.Help with wedding organisation and keep selfish, sad worries about how much I’ll miss her to myself.
12. Find a way to end fake boyfriend pretence before it causes any more problems.
Epilogue
It was a beautiful wedding. Will’s grandfather’s estate was lush, gorgeous and green in the late-August sunshine. Champagne had been flowing endlessly for hours, and the band was playing what Will had charmingly termed ‘the erection section’: a series of romantic songs for slow-dancing.
