by Paige Toon
I start to smirk to myself as I type that out. I continue:
Whatever you have to say, you can say it now.
I almost delete the first part of my email but then think, fuck it, and press send. It gives me great pleasure to see his eyes widen as he reads my message. He stares at his computer screen and I start to regret being so impulsive. I regret it even more when Simon comes over to speak to him. I type out another message.
Forget I said that. We have to work together, and maybe one day it won’t be so awkward, but I still don’t want to have lunch with you. I hear you had a good meeting with Rachel? All going well?
I see Alex’s eyes dart to his computer as my message hits his inbox. He has to force himself to concentrate on Simon, but as soon as our boss heads back to his desk, he replies.
Thanks for saying that. Things were a bit rocky for a while but I think we’re going to be okay.
My chest tightens. But I’m going to be okay, too. I force myself to think of Lachie as I reply.
I’m glad to hear it.
It’s a lie, though.
I spend every night that week falling asleep in Lachie’s arms. It helps. The weekend is our last one together, but unfortunately, it’s also my last wedding of the year that I’m doing with Rachel. I’d rather spend my time with Lachie, but Rachel needs me, and she’s already promised to give me more weddings next year if I want them.
Luckily, the wedding is in Totteridge in north London, so we’re done in time for me to return to Lachie’s pub for last orders. I sit on a stool at the bar and watch him work while fending off the attentions of a multitude of attractive, flirtatious girls. I’m pretty sure he could have his pick of them. Why does he want me?
I go with him to help him gather empties once the lights in the pub have gone on. The drinkers are slowly dispersing.
‘How was it?’ he asks of the wedding.
‘Fun,’ I reply. ‘Fancy dress.’
‘Really?’ He looks interested.
‘Well, not fully.’ I smile as I tell him about the bride and groom and their guests, who wore full wedding garb from the neck down – a black morning suit for the groom and a cream-coloured silk skirt and corset for the bride, although later she swapped her long skirt for a shorter one with burnt-cream-coloured ruffles peeking out from underneath. The fancy dress part came from their hats – the theme was outrageous headgear. The groom wore a Roman centurion helmet with a red Mohawk-style brush spanning from the front of the shiny silver helmet to the back. As for the bride, she wore a bird’s nest. Yes, really. But it was no ordinary bird’s nest. Hers had two silky-looking magpies sitting on the back of it, looking down at a nest crammed with glittering jewels. The photos are going to look amazing.
‘Last wedding of the year, right?’ Lachie checks.
‘Yep.’ I smile at him. Needless to say, I don’t think I’ll be invited to Alex’s.
He gives me a tender kiss and we carry the empties back to the bar.
I told him Alex was back at work this week, and while the news put him into a pretty bad mood on Monday night, as the week has progressed, he relaxed.
As have Alex and I. In fact, I even had an amusing conversation with him yesterday about the two charismatic gay guys who are doing the flowers for his wedding. They’re partners at home and work and their relationship is tumultuous to say the least. Alex wouldn’t be surprised if they fell out and he and Zara ended up with no flowers at all on the day.
‘Time’s up, people,’ Lachie calls to a few stragglers as he wipes down the bar. I wish they’d hurry up and leave. I want to take this gorgeous guy home to bed.
‘You can go, Lachie,’ his boss says to him with a smile. ‘See you on Monday?’
‘Sure thing.’
‘Thanks for all your work.’ They shake hands, warmly. ‘You’ll be missed.’
Tonight was his last shift. He leaves on Tuesday morning, but he’s having a few drinks here on Monday night.
He grabs his chunky black coat from behind the bar and shrugs it on over his red T-shirt. The weather has suddenly become very cold and even his astonishingly warm-blooded body needs proper help fighting the chill. We walk past a couple of girls who look downcast to see Lachie leaving with me.
‘Looks like you’ve got some admirers there,’ I whisper to him as we step out onto the icy pavement.
He smirks. ‘They’re always in here.’
Hmm. ‘Not tempted?’ I can’t help but ask.
He frowns at me, not dignifying my question with an answer.
‘What do you see in me?’ I ask him outright.
He reels backwards slightly in surprise. ‘You need to ask that?’
‘I’m a bit confused,’ I admit, shivering slightly because it really is freezing cold. He wraps his arm around me.
‘Well, you’re beautiful. And funny. And smart. And really fucking good in bed.’
I whack him on his chest and he laughs and pulls me tighter to him.
‘I’m going to miss you,’ I tell him, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat.
‘I’m going to miss you, too.’ He’s no longer smiling when he kisses the top of my head. ‘But I don’t want it to be goodbye when I go.’
I let his comment rest in my mind. I’ll have plenty of time to ponder the future when he’s gone.
On Monday, Russ is by my desk when Alex walks out of the meeting room.
‘You coming tonight?’ Russ asks him, making me tense up.
Alex’s brow furrows. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Lachie’s leaving drinks.’
‘Oh. I didn’t know he was leaving?’
Russ glances at me, expecting me to elaborate as Lachie’s girl, but I don’t speak so he fills Alex in.
‘Yeah, he’s off travelling for a bit before returning to Australia.’
‘Oh, right.’ Alex nods. ‘Sure. I could come for a couple.’
My heart sinks. I don’t actually want him there, and neither, I imagine, will Lachie. But I can’t very well tell him he’s not welcome in front of Russ. When Russ disappears, I type Alex an email.
You don’t need to come tonight. Lachie won’t expect it.
I watch his perplexed expression and then he taps out a reply.
Would you rather I didn’t come?
I sigh. Do I really want to go into this? I’m not even sure Alex knows that I’m seeing Lachie.
I just don’t think there’s any need.
I feel a little bad when he replies with a simple ‘OK’, but I really don’t think Lachie will be happy to see him, and this is his night.
By sheer coincidence, Alex is leaving work at the same time as Russ and me. Russ is meeting Maria at Lachie’s pub and Rachel and Bridget are also coming. We all walk to Tottenham Court Road station together. I think Russ assumes Alex is coming with us and they chat amiably about Russ’s current flat hunt. He and Maria are still living with Rachel, but they’re searching for an apartment to move into together.
‘What about you, mate?’ Russ asks him. ‘How are the wedding plans coming along?’
‘Yeah, it’s all fine,’ Alex replies a touch stiffly, probably because I’m there. ‘Although I kind of wish we’d just done it like you. Zara’s driving me insane going through all the details every night.’
‘It’ll be worth it,’ Russ tells him as we walk down the stairs into the station. ‘I just hope Maria doesn’t regret not having a big do in the future. She’s been to so many weddings, she really knew what she wanted.’
‘Your wedding was stunning,’ I chip in. ‘One of the nicest I’ve ever been to.’ Even if it did have its ups and downs.
‘I thought so, too,’ Russ says with a smile.
There are often buskers standing at the bottom of the escalators so I don’t pay any attention to the sound of distant guitar strumming as we pass through the turnstiles. Then I hear his voice and I let out a little cry of delight.
‘It’s Lachie!’ I squeal.
I step onto the lef
t-hand side of the escalator and crane my neck to try to spot him rather than walking down like I usually would.
‘No way,’ I hear Russ say with a laugh as Lachie comes into view.
He grins widely when he sees me. He’s playing ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ by The Stones and I have to stop myself from laughing. His smile wavers slightly when he sees who’s behind me, but as his eyes rest on mine again, he perks up again. It would be hard not to – my enthusiasm is surely infectious. I spill off the end of the escalator and he stops playing mid-way through the song, grinning and swinging his guitar behind him so he can engulf me in a hug. I reach up, take his face in my hands and give him a long kiss smack on the lips.
‘Hello,’ he says warmly, looking down at me with a twinkle in his eyes.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask gleefully.
‘One last busking session. Which, coincidentally, happened to be at the station you go home from.’
‘I don’t believe in coincidences,’ I tell him with a grin.
He stares past me. ‘Hey.’ He lets me go to shake Alex and Russ’s hands. I glance over my shoulder to see Alex looking a bit shaken.
‘You coming for a few drinks?’ Lachie asks Alex. I doubt it’s obvious to anyone other than me, but his tone is less warm than usual.
‘I’ve got to head home,’ Alex replies awkwardly.
‘What?’ Russ exclaims, staring at him in confusion. ‘I thought you were coming?’
‘Uh, I can’t.’ He glances at Lachie. ‘I heard you’re leaving tomorrow?’
‘For a bit, yeah, but I’m coming back.’ There’s a definite hardness to his tone.
‘Are you?’ Russ asks him with surprise.
Lachie shrugs. ‘Yeah, for a bit in December.’
‘So are these leaving drinks just another excuse to get hammered?’ Russ asks with a grin.
Lachie rolls his eyes and then smiles down at me. ‘Shall we go?’
‘Yes.’
I step away from him as he collects the coins from his guitar case and packs his guitar away. ‘See you tomorrow, then,’ Alex says to Russ and me.
‘Yep. Bye,’ I reply curtly. I swear he looks a little pale as he walks away.
A lot of people turn up for Lachie’s farewell drinks – I never knew he had so many friends. It hurts to think of the time we’ve wasted not getting to know each other when we had the chance. I’m also sorry that he felt he had to withdraw from my friends and me after Spain. There are so many things I wish I could change.
I’ll have him to myself tonight, so I retreat a bit and let him enjoy the company of his mates – and an unsurprising number of females.
‘Are you going to miss him?’ Bridget asks me as we sit at the bar.
‘Yes,’ I reply dejectedly.
‘What’s going to happen now?’ she asks, giving me a significant look.
‘I don’t know,’ I murmur.
‘Do you think he’ll come back over to England?’
‘I’m not sure he can,’ I reply as I watch him huddle close to his mates and laugh at something one of them has said. ‘He had a one-year visa. And I know he misses home and his family.’
‘Would you go back?’ she asks probingly.
My response is automatic. ‘Not now that I’ve got a promotion. Anyway,’ I wave her away. ‘We’ve only just got together. It’s too soon to be making plans about the future.’
She cocks her head to one side, thoughtfully, but she doesn’t pry any further. I’m relieved.
Our lovemaking that night is sweeter than ever before, but no matter how tired I am, I can’t fall asleep in his arms. Eventually I leave him in the bed and go out into the deserted living room. It’s freezing cold, and I’m shivering as I sit down on the sofa. Lachie’s guitar case is propped up against the wall, where he left it before we went to the pub. I sit in the darkness and let the tears slide down my cheeks, too miserable to wipe them away. The rational part of my brain tells me to go back to Lachie in the nice warm bed, but it’s only a whisper inside my head. The more dominant part tells me firmly to stay where I am in the cold. That part wants to punish me for daring to fall in love. Love? Who am I in love with?
His face is lit by sunlight pouring in through a crack in the curtains. I prop myself up on my elbow and watch the whizzing, circling, silvery flecks of dust caught in the bright shaft of light.
Alex murmurs and I glance down at him.
‘Wow, your eyes are really blue,’ I say with surprise, my voice coming out sounding huskier than usual.
He smiles sleepily up at me. ‘What time is it?’ His voice is thick with sleep and alcohol abuse.
‘I don’t know. I think it’s late morning, judging by the sunlight.’ I turn my head back towards the curtains. ‘Look at the light shaft. The dust motes are like fairy dust. They’re magical.’
He frowns. ‘What are you going on about?’
‘Can’t you see them?’
‘No.’
‘Maybe you have to move out of the light to see how beautiful it is,’ I muse.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he says.
Emotion bubbles up inside me and I can’t hold it back. I cry silently, muffling my sobs with my arm as tears trek down my cheeks. And then Lachie’s words come back to me and I cry even harder.
‘I’d give anything not to fall for someone I can’t have, Bronnie.’
When Lachie finds me, I’m shivering uncontrollably.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he gasps in dismay as he scoops me up in his arms. ‘Come back to bed.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I just can’t...’
‘Shh,’ he silences me with his kisses and I find myself melting into him, desperate to escape my memories.
I wake up suddenly in the morning and stare at the wall for a while, just thinking. A minute or two later I realise that Lachie is also awake. I turn to face him, as humiliation washes over me. He looks concerned as he regards me. I don’t know how long he’s been awake.
‘Are you alright?’ he asks me.
‘Yeah.’ My face heats up. ‘Bloody hell, that was a bit melodramatic of me, wasn’t it?’ I try to make a joke of it.
He doesn’t smile. ‘I’m worried about you,’ he murmurs.
‘Don’t be worried about me,’ I brush him off and sit up in bed. ‘I’m fine.’
‘You see, I just don’t think that you are,’ he replies quietly, looking up at me.
‘Oh Lachie, stop it,’ I say with a little frown. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me last night. Please just forget about it. It’s embarrassing.’
He sighs and reaches up to pull me down into the crook of his arm. I go, a little reluctantly. ‘I was thinking. Maybe I shouldn’t go travelling. I could stay here until next month. Maybe we could even fly home together.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I snap, feeling him tense up at my tone. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean you’re ridiculous,’ I quickly apologise as I raise myself up on my elbows to look at him. ‘But I really don’t want you changing your plans for me. There’s no need. Go have fun. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.’
‘That’s not necessarily true.’
‘You know what I mean. I just... Please. I want you to go.’ I put my hand on his chest in what I hope is a reassuring gesture, but I feel his body stiffen even more. I’m not doing very well. ‘I don’t mean I want you to go. Of course I don’t. I’m going to miss you.’ I lean down to kiss him, but his lips are rigid. I pull away again.
‘Stay away from Alex,’ he says warningly, with a defiant, direct stare. My eyes widen. He’s bordering on angry as he continues. ‘I saw the look on his face when you kissed me at the station. He wasn’t expecting that. You didn’t tell him we were together?’
‘No, I...’ I blush again and I realise this makes me look guilty. ‘I’ve barely spoken to him!’ I can’t help raising my voice as I try to defend myself. ‘I’m avoiding him. I am staying away from him,’ I try to convince him, but I’m not
sure I’m going to succeed. ‘Lachie,’ I say with disappointment as he breaks eye contact with me to glare at the ceiling. ‘He’s getting married in three weeks. You have nothing to worry about.’ I put my hand on his chest, hoping to soothe him. ‘I really... like you,’ I tell him, but I’m not sure it’s enough. My hand rises and falls with his heavy sigh. ‘I really do,’ I add.
He briefly covers his face with his hands and then pulls himself together. ‘I guess I’d better get ready,’ he says eventually and my heart sinks as he climbs out of bed.
I don’t have time to dwell on his mood, though. I have to get ready, too.
He sees me to the Tube station. His flight isn’t until later. We walk in silence and I feel very flat, very morose. I turn to face him on the bustling pavement. The twinkle from his blue eyes has gone – he’s not smiling, and neither am I. At that moment I feel more than just ‘like’ for him, but I’m still not sure it’s enough – and it’s too late anyway.
‘I’ll see you in December?’ I stare at him with regret.
He nods, but doesn’t reply.
‘Will you text me from Europe? Stay in touch?’
‘Yeah,’ he mutters.
‘Lachie, please,’ I say, taking his hands and fighting back tears. ‘I care so much about you. I’m going to really miss you.’
His eyes meet mine and my sadness is plain to see. Finally, he takes me in his arms and I hold him as tightly as I can.
After a while his chest vibrates against mine as he chuckles. ‘You’re crushing me,’ he murmurs into my hair.
‘Really?’ I grin up at him. ‘You great big wuss.’
He grins down at me and I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. But his arms hold me in place and he deepens the kiss as his lips move against mine. My knees go weak as I slip my arms around his neck and kiss him back.
It’s only the sound of someone muttering, ‘Get a room,’ that makes us break apart.
‘See you soon,’ I say, giving him one last quick, tight hug before turning away. I swear I hear him say he loves me as I hurry into the Tube station.
