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Her heart sank. “Not you. Not…YOU!”
She tore at her neck, snapping her necklace. The A charm fell away from the busted chain and catapulted across the deck like a wayward silver bullet. Her eyes cursed its existence as it vanished into the fickle shadows of swaying bodies, glowing cigarette ends, and glinting beer bottles. Good riddance.
Lucy nudged Freddie behind Alex’s back. They simultaneously looped their arms around her shoulders.
The rooftop revelers began their rowdy countdown to midnight.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven…”
Alex tossed a look over her shoulder to the door leading downstairs to Freddie’s flat.
“Four, three, two, one…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Ear-popping bangs, rumbles, and high-pitched whistles erupted in the distance, echoing through London and overtaking the squawking party horns on the rooftop. Electric bursts of red, blue, and white illuminated the inky sky, eliciting “oohs” and “wows” from the easy-to-please audience.
Alex’s view grew blurry. At this moment, she hated everyone and everything.
Happy couples and pissed strangers grasped each other for snogs and polite pecks. Freddie seized both Lucy and Alex and laid boozy wet kisses on their cheeks. “Happy New Year, you two. I couldn’t start a new year with two better accomplices. I love you, my fangirlies!”
A quartet of BBC buddies began to slur their way through Auld Lang Syne. The accountant from Pret accompanied the singers on a green and orange party horn that seemed to sneeze tissue streamers with each raspy puff of air.
Lucy chuckled at their shenanigans, then thought better of it. Alex’s eyes didn’t leave the wooden planks on the floor. Lucy tightened her hold around her friend’s slumped shoulders.
They stood silently as the partiers whooped and cheered each explosion in the sky. The breathtaking display wowed London for close to fifteen minutes.
Alex trembled despite the warmth of Freddie’s jacket and retreated downstairs to his flat.
Once out of Alex’s earshot, Lucy had a go at Freddie. “Mark better have a good explanation. I really thought he’d be here. My heart’s breaking for her. Such a bastard—”
Freddie nodded. “Couldn’t agree more. But the angrier we get, the worse Alex will feel. She needs to forget this mess. I feel so bad for geeing her up.” He let a bunch of his friends exit down the stairs first. “Grab her a drink, keep her occupied. And let’s save the review of Keeg’s behaviour until tomorrow afternoon, okay? God, the fact that I’m being rational proves I’m not nearly pissed enough. Let’s remedy that.”
Upon entering his flat, he snatched a bottle of vodka from the cart and threw himself into a twirl with the disheveled Pret accountant and a curvy BBC receptionist, all three singing Kylie’s Can’t Get You Out of My Head at the top of their lungs.
Alex weaved through the flailing arms and wobbly drinkers, tossing empty beer cans into a large trash bag.
Lucy clutched at the bag. “Lex, stop. The party’s still in full swing. Come dance.”
“I’m not in the mood. I’d go home, but I can’t afford a cab on my own. I need to keep myself busy. It’s all I can do not to cry, so, please…let me do this. If I dance, I’ll want a drink. Dancing and drinking didn’t end so well last time.”
“I’m sure Freddie appreciates you keeping everything tidy, but if you’re still doing this at 1 a.m., I’m forcing you to dance. Cleaning’s no way to welcome in a new year.” She sighed and leapt into the dancing fray, joining a twerking Freddie.
Alex did three laps of the crowded flat, clearing abandoned cans, bottles, and overflowing ashtrays. She refilled bowls of crisps and heated up four more trays of mini sausage rolls and pizza bites. She glanced at her phone—12:58 a.m.—and began another sweep of the room for stray cans.
Something tugged at the trash bag trailing behind her.
“Lucy, look, I’m gonna get going…”
A familiar sexy scent—spicy cardamom, juniper berries, and leather. The delicate hairs on the back of her neck stirred. “Hello, stranger.” Mark whispered in her ear.
Her heart fluttered, as effervescent as a champagne bottle about to pop its cork.
She spun around. His leather jacket rose and fell with each laboured breath, his black hair disorderly and teasing above his determined brown eyes. His forehead glistened with perspiration, giving him an otherworldly glow.
The bag slipped from Alex’s grasp, her eyes afraid to blink in case he vanished. The throbbing sub-bass of Kylie’s On a Night Like This faded into the background, her ears hearing only his sensual Irish lilt. A room crowded with forty people and only one person existed—stood inches away, stealing her heart.
One hand gently held her waist, the other caressed her cheek. Mark tilted his head towards Freddie’s muted TV, broadcasting New Year’s countdowns around the world. “I knew I’d make it in time…see, it’s now midnight…in Greenland.”
He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. Alex threw her arms around his shoulders, months of longing and tension melting into the desperate embrace. She pulled away to smile and lose herself in his brown eyes. “Greenland? You better show me how they keep warm, then.” Mark laughed and swept her into a deeper, more passionate kiss.
