‘Oh. Yeah. Probably,’ Aled said, as if it hadn’t occurred to him to let go.
Seeming to sense Rosie’s desire to put distance between them, Aled soldiered on and skated alone for the rest of their allotted hour. He meandered along behind her, narrowly avoiding several elderly pedestrians and a handful of bolshy teenagers who seemed to find his clunky movements singularly hilarious: ‘Lol – look at Grandad! Are you wearing those things for a bet, mate?’
The same gang of RP-accented ne’er-do-wells, all of whom were sporting Jack Wills hoodies, entirely failed to notice Rosie skate by. This was unsurprising, given the speed and confidence with which she was now whizzing around.
She felt alive, exhilarated – almost as if she was flying. Her heart felt fit to burst with the sheer pleasure of being here,now, with the cool October breeze ruffling her hair and eddies of falling leaves swirling on the wind.
‘We should probably head back,’ Aled called from somewhere behind her. ‘Our time’s almost up.’
‘Race you!’ Rosie shouted back, turning in an easy arc on the pavement and heading in the direction from which they’d originally come.
‘What? No!’ Aled yelled, trying and failing not to laugh. ‘Cheat!’
It took him several moments to stop his forward motion and about-turn – by which time Rosie’s head start was significant.
He gained on her as they neared their destination, finally throwing himself into skating as fast as he could. As he reached for Rosie to try and arrest her progress, she squealed and pirouetted away.
In the end, she won easily. They both collapsed on the grass next to the skate stand, breathless and giggling.
‘That wasnotfair,’ Aled panted, grinning.
‘Nonsense,’ Rosie declared. ‘Your stride’s much longer than mine when you man up and dare to use it. I had to get the edge somehow.’
‘Daring generally isn’t my thing,’ he said ruefully, and Rosie wondered what he meant. Then, before she could argue that solo backpacking around the world was surely pretty daring, he said: ‘Pub? Loser buys the first round …’
After handing in their skates and putting their own shoes back on, Rosie and Aled began the walk north through the park towards Primrose Hill. It was a comfortable half hour stroll, though the dark clouds gathering overhead made Rosie wonder if they’d make it before it began to rain.
As they ambled past newly naked trees and flower beds that showcased the fading remnants of summer splendour, Rosie frequently felt the eyes of fellow walkers snag and fix on them. No doubt, she thought, these people were wondering what this broodingly handsome romantic hero was doing with the dumpy, girl-next-door character. In the movie of their lives, this would doubtless be the scene where he confessed undying love for some taller, thinner, prettier woman – and it would probably only make the director’s cut.
The heavens finally opened as they crossed Prince Albert Road. A sudden deluge of thick, heavy raindrops splashed from the sky, as though buckets of chilly water were being emptied directly onto their heads.
‘Oh,fuck!’ Rosie yelled, laughing as her immediately sodden hair stuck to her scalp and water dripped from the tip of her nose.
‘I say we run for it!’ Aled said, raising his voice above the sound of the rain pelting the pavement.
‘Agreed!’ Rosie laughed. She jogged around the edge of the park and Aled followed. Soon they were running down a residential street towards a crossroads, at the end of which was a cosy-looking pub. Its double doors were painted some shade of Farrow & Ball grey, and gold letters above it spelled out ‘Princess of Wales’.
They burst inside, laughing and out of breath. Puddles immediately formed where they stood.
‘Nice out there, then?’ the barman said sardonically. ‘Take a seat over there – radiator’s on.’
‘Thanks,’ Rosie sighed, grateful.
She took a moment to gather her wits before looking up at Aled. She’d learned that it paid to be prepared, and the sight of him rain-soaked and flushed from their run was bound to be A Lot.
In fact, it was all she could do to avoid cardiac arrest when she looked up at him. She had to remind herself to keep breathing as she took in the moisture that clung to his long, dark lashes and the wet shine of his hair.
God help her, there was a bead of water on his bottom lip, which – oh yes,of course– he deftly licked away. She was transfixed, motionless,undone…
‘Pint, then?’ he asked, tipping his head to one side and eyeing her quizzically.
‘Yes! Excellent!’ she squeaked, pushing her wet fringe out of her face and wondering how terrible she looked. She swept two fingertips across the skin beneath her eyes, and they came away sooty. So much for her ‘waterproof’ mascara.
She heard Aled laugh softly, presumably at the appalled expression on her face. ‘On a scale of one to “rodent who’s been flushed down the toilet”, how bad is it?’ she asked, before she could stop herself. She waved a hand in the direction of her almost certainly ruined makeup.
He gazed down at her in a way that made her toes curl inside her damp Converse high tops, then tentatively, delicately raised his hand to brush a raindrop from the edge of her jaw. She stifled a noise that might have become a whimper if she’d let it, but before she could lean into the touch, it was over.
Apparently embarrassed, Aled thrust his hands into his pockets and said, ‘I wouldn’t change a thing.’ Without letting his eyes meet hers, he made for the bar.
