“I think this would be perfect.” She holds out a tiny bunch of pink flowers that are attached to a pure, white ribbon. “It’s a corsage. They’re normally worn to dances and wedding and such, but this seems like a special occasion.”
“It is.” Tommy smiles at me and I almost split my lip grinning back. “What are they?”
“Rhododendrons.” The florist gestures for me to hold out my wrist and wraps the ribbon around it, once, twice, three times, finishing it off with a bow. They’re beautiful, like a perfect little hybrid of a lily and the China Rose in my hair.
“Thank you.” I glance at Tommy, surprised to see his face is set, serious. “What do these mean, then? Something good, I hope.”
“Oh, Niamh, you have no idea.” He smiles as he pulls out his wallet and pays with cash. I hold my hand out to admire the corsage while he waits for his change. We thank the florist and, feeling bold, I take Tommy’s hand and stand on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you. That was perfect.”
He wraps both arms around my waist and drops a light kiss on to my lips. “No, Niamh. You’re perfect.”
*
As reluctant as I am to leave Tommy, it’s nearly eight. I’m desperate to tell Jess everything, so I fire off a text, letting her know I’ll be there soon. I chatter away about Meghan and my family back home, until I realize we’ve left the bright lights of the Southbank behind. We’re walking along a much quieter back street, now.
“Where are we?”
“I wanted to show you one more thing.” We carry on walking and a tickle of unease crawls down my back. It’s creepy here, an unfamiliar area, and suddenly Tommy looks just like what he actually is – a guy I barely know. I drop his hand casually and reach for my phone. Still no response from Jess.
“I don’t think I have time, sorry, I don’t want to be late. Another time?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He smiles, but I feel as though something has changed. We walk on for a while in silence, passing a large, rambling graveyard as I spy the lights of Tower Bridge in the distance. Gradually the streets become busier and the knot of tension in my chest dissolves.
I take Tommy’s hand again, and feel his fingers squeeze mine.
“So, will I see you at the museum next week?” Tommy asks.
“No, you will tomorrow, though. It’s my last shift.”
“I didn’t know.” His face softens and looks disappointed. “But you might be staying, right? If you get this scholarship money?”
“Yeah, but it’s a pretty slim chance. The last day to hand it in is Monday and I’ve barely started and—”
He raises an eyebrow. “It sounds to me like you’re looking for excuses.”
I start to argue but my mouth stays hanging open like a shocked goldfish. He’s right. Everything that has happened – with Will, with Sara and Tasha, with Granny – has left me unsure. “I guess I am.”
“So go for it. Send it in. What’s meant to be will be and all that.”
“OK.” I smile. He wants me to stay! My hormones are doing a little jig at the thought.
“Fingers crossed, then.” He gently tugs me closer to him, and he lowers his head to mine, brushing a kiss on my cheek. “I really don’t want to lose you. Not again.”
“There you are!” A familiar voice interrupts and Jess appears like an over-excited Jack-in-the-Box. “I was waiting for you – Mum and Dad have already gone in. But I see you’re busy. . .”
Tommy and I break apart, flustered. “Oh,” she draws the word out, looking at him way more intensely than seems appropriate. “Hi.”
“Jess?” I mutter through gritted teeth. She blinks, as though pulled from a daze, and looks back at me. “Jess,” I repeat, “this is Tommy. From the museum.”
“Hi,” she replies smoothly, though she’s clearly giving him the once over. “Tommy. I’ve heard so much,” I clear my throat, “I mean, almost nothing, about you.”
Smooth, Jess.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Tommy says politely. “Um, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Niamh.”
