by Paige Toon
‘Everything’s fine,’ I reassure her. I can hear my phone beeping to let me know that other messages are coming in, but I try to ignore them so I can concentrate on the business in hand.
A few minutes later I end the call, just as Joe comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
‘They don’t want to sell,’ I call after him with disappointment.
‘Oh.’ He stops and comes back into my bedroom. ‘Offer them more money, then.’
‘They don’t want to sell,’ I say again, more firmly.
‘Everyone has a price. Find theirs.’
‘Yes, sir!’ I say jauntily, saluting him.
He looks shamefaced. ‘Sorry. Do you want me to speak to them?’
‘No, it’s alright. But if you’re really serious you should pass this on to your solicitor. How much are you willing to pay, exactly?’
‘As much as they want,’ he replies offhandedly, tightening the towel. I try not to get distracted.
‘But it’s got to make financial sense. You can’t just buy it if they ask way more than it’s worth.’
‘It’s worth everything to me,’ he says simply.
‘Why do you want it so much?’
My phone starts to vibrate on the mattress beside me and I look down at it with alarm. Shit!
‘It’s Lukas,’ I say, snatching it up. I glance at Joe.
He looks shaken as he backs out of the room and closes the door behind him.
Should I answer it? Suddenly the phone stops ringing.
I scarcely dare listen to my voicemail messages. In fact, I don’t dare. I switch my phone back off and go downstairs. Joe joins me a short while later. He’s wearing the black cargo pants and an indie-rock T-shirt.
‘Did you speak to him?’ He’s trying to sound casual.
‘No. He hung up,’ I add.
He flicks the kettle back on and gets out a couple of mugs. ‘Tea?’ he asks.
‘Sure.’ I get on with breakfast.
‘So what does a physicist do, then?’ he asks sardonically.
‘I wouldn’t have a fucking clue,’ I reply as I lift the lid off the bread box. He looks at me in surprise and then laughs.
‘You never swear!’ he exclaims.
‘Ooh, you say that, but you should have heard me the year after you left. I was ANGRY . . .’ I grab a bread knife and start to slice through the loaf.
‘Were you?’
‘Absolutely fucking furious.’
‘Alice!’ He’s slightly outraged.
‘I was taking a group of tourists on a punt—’
‘You were what?’ he interrupts.
‘I worked as a punter.’
‘You can punt? No way!’ He looks amazed. ‘I would love to go punting!’
‘I’ll take you.’ I grin.
‘Will you?’
‘Yep.’
Reality check. When will I take him? In that other lifetime that I keep talking about?
I put my head down and slice another piece of bread, before popping four pieces into the toaster.
‘I thought we’d go for a walk to the pub after breakfast,’ he says, stirring sugar into his mug.
‘The pub?’ I’m taken aback. ‘Your pub?’
‘Well, it’s not my pub anymore.’ He stares out of the window and takes a sip of his tea. ‘But I’d like to see it again.’
I understand. This is about closure for him too. That word again. I can’t bear it.
The wind has picked up properly today and my hair whips around my face as we traipse across the field to the pub. I wish I’d brought a hairband. I try to tuck my locks into my coat, but the wind keeps dragging them out again. Suddenly Joe grabs my hand.
‘You’re not wearing your rings,’ he says with shock.
‘Don’t read anything into it,’ I reply, shaking his hand free. I feel his eyes on me as I keep walking. The truth is that my fingers feel naked without them, yet it feels wrong to keep them on.
Finally we walk over the crest of the hill and the pub is there before us. Joe comes to a standstill.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask him.
‘I’ve wanted to come back here for years,’ he breathes, taking it all in. I reach over and squeeze his hand. ‘You know I couldn’t have come back with anyone other than you.’ He looks across at me.
‘Do you want to go in for a drink?’ I ask him.
‘I’d better not,’ he replies, backing away. ‘I’d like to go back to Brownsea Island too.’
At exactly the same time we glance at each other and say one word:
‘Peafowl.’
Our mouths fall open in disbelief and then we fall about with hilarity.
‘You knew what I was going to say!’ I scream with laughter.
‘You knew what I was going to say!’ he laughs back.
He pulls me down on the rugged grass, both of us still in fits of giggles. He puts his hands on my hair and pushes it back off my face, and then suddenly we’re not laughing anymore. His eyes are serious as he gazes at me, and then his lips are on mine and this time I have no willpower to stop.
I kiss him like there’s no tomorrow, only today, the here and the now.
Somehow we make it back to the cottage and undress each other slowly in my bedroom, our lips barely parting. He’s so careful with me – almost as though he thinks I’m going to break – or flee . . . But I’m going nowhere. Every part of me – my heart, my soul, my body – is here with him in this moment.
I love him like I’ve never loved anyone.
We’re both overcome with emotion when it’s over, and he stays on top of me for a long time as we both breathe heavily. Finally he lifts his head and gazes at me.
‘This could be our place. Where we’d come to get away from it all.’
I close my eyes and gently push him away. My heart hurts, and it’s not because his chest is pressing so hard into mine.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asks me worriedly as he rolls off me.
My bottom lip wobbles and my eyes fill up with tears. ‘This isn’t real. It’s not real.’
‘What do you mean?’ He looks pale.
‘What do you think is going to happen? Do you think I’m going to leave my husband? Break the vow that I made to him?’
He looks uncomfortable. ‘I hoped so.’
I sit up. ‘You’re living in la-la land! This isn’t a Hollywood film!’
He climbs out of bed and starts dragging on his clothes. ‘I know you’re smarter than me, but do you have to be quite so patronising?’
‘There is no future for us! How could there possibly be? You don’t have a normal life. You will never have a normal life. Even if you chucked in fame and never made another movie, you’d still be recognised for years. And it would be wrong of me to even want you to give up your acting career when you’re so damn good at it!’
‘I would give up everything for you,’ he says simply, giving me a poignant look before walking out of the room.
I fall back onto the bed and sigh loudly. And then I get up and get dressed. I go downstairs to find him on the sofa, staring at the wall. I climb onto the sofa and snuggle into him. He’s tense and then he relaxes, putting his arms around me and pulling me in. I nuzzle into his neck, wanting to be close to him, not wanting to spoil the time we have together. We don’t have much of it left.
‘I love you,’ he whispers.
‘I love you too.’
‘I want to be with you forever.’
I don’t reply.
The more time I spend with him, the more my sense of reality changes. Soon it’s my other life that feels unreal, my other life with Lukas and my parents and Lizzy. I still haven’t listened to my phone messages. I was supposed to fly to Germany yesterday and I know that I’m evil and that there’s something wrong with me for sending a vague text about being delayed instead of calling to let Lukas know what’s actually going on.
We’re living in a bubble. A bubble that is all too soon going to pop. We spend hal
f of our days and most of our nights making love, and it’s so much more passionate than it used to be. Neither of us acknowledges how we got this extra confidence, this extra experience between the sheets, but we connect like we were meant to be together, like there could never be anyone else. I can’t get enough of him. I don’t want to ever leave his side. I’m in that other lifetime.
Finally we can’t go any longer without food, so on New Year’s Day I borrow Joe’s car and take it to a nearby shop, stocking up on the bare basics: bread, milk, cheese, pasta, tinned food. My heart swells as I imagine him sitting on the countertop, watching me prepare dinner. I have no idea that my dream is about to become a nightmare.
I see the glint of silver up ahead, but I don’t click until I’m further down the track. Then I realise with horror that Lukas’s Porsche is parked outside the cottage.
I pull up behind his car and hurriedly undo my seatbelt, stumbling out of the car and running towards the cottage. Through the kitchen window I can see Lukas and Joe squaring up to each other.
‘You don’t want to fight me,’ I hear Joe saying firmly through the open door.
‘Are you telling me your fight scenes aren’t all digitally enhanced?’ Lukas snipes.
‘You really don’t want to find out, buddy.’
‘Stop it!’ I shout, falling into the kitchen.
‘Alice!’ Lukas exclaims, rushing towards me.
I take a step away from this stranger and glance at Joe. Lukas halts in his steps. He looks behind him at Joe and then back at me. Pain contorts his features. He takes another step towards me. I step backwards. ‘How did you find me?’ I ask.
‘Your parents. You asked them about this cottage. We were all worried.’
‘I’m sorry.’
I know there’s nowhere near enough remorse in my voice to cover all of this.
‘Alice?’ Joe asks tentatively.
‘Do you mind?’ Lukas snaps. ‘I’d like some time alone with my wife.’
I glance at Joe and nod. He turns and walks into the living room.
‘What are you doing?’ Lukas asks in not much more than a whisper.
‘I’m not sure,’ I tell him honestly.
‘Perhaps it was wrong of me to stop you from seeking some sort of resolution years ago. Is that what this is about? Finding answers?’
I can hardly bear to look at him. I nod.
‘Did you find them?’ He sounds desperate.
‘I don’t know,’ I say in a small voice. ‘I’m so confused.’
He takes another step towards me. I can’t go any further backwards – I’m pressed up against the kitchen counter.
He walks the rest of the way to me and puts his hand on my hip. ‘I think you should come home with me now,’ he says in a low voice.
I shake my head. ‘I’m not ready. Not yet.’
He nods. Then, quick as a flash, he grabs my wrist and drags me out of there.
‘NO!’ I scream.
Joe appears before Lukas reaches the car.
‘LET HER GO!’
I’ve never seen Joe so full of rage as he stands with his fists raised, ready to strike, wanting to strike.
Lukas flings my wrist away, and the look he gives me . . . I feel like a knife has pierced my heart. I know he will never, ever forgive me for this. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself, either.
Joe steps in front of me and puts his hand on my stomach, gently pushing me behind him. But there’s no need to protect me anymore. Lukas is already in his car. He flashes the two of us a venomous look before roaring away down the track, creating a dust cloud in his wake.
‘That’s kind of put a dampener on our secret little hideaway,’ Joe says. I know he’s trying to lighten the mood, but I’m in no mood for jokes. I run inside and up the stairs. He follows me.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks.
‘What have I done? What have I done?’ I yank open the top drawer of my bedside table and pull out my engagement and wedding rings.
Clear as day I see Lukas kneeling before me on the crisp white snow at the top of an Austrian mountain. ‘When you said Rosalinde was my first love . . . You were wrong.’ His eyes brim with tears as he fervently promises me, ‘You’re my first love. I love you.’
Oh, Lukas. My husband. He may have his faults, but he doesn’t deserve this. I stare down at the rings with despair. ‘What have I done?’
Joe sits down on the bed beside me and takes my hand, closing my fist with my rings inside.
‘You’ve made a decision.’
‘I didn’t make a decision! Lukas has made one for both of us.’
‘No, Alice,’ he says, calmly and firmly. ‘You made the decision when you agreed to come here with me. You knew this would happen. In your heart, you knew.’
I look up at him and my eyes fill with tears. ‘What now?’
‘Now we start our new life together.’ He gently opens each of my fingers and takes the rings from my palm, then he puts them back in the drawer and closes it. ‘Do you think you can handle it?’
‘I don’t know.’
He tilts my chin up to look at him. ‘I do.’
I pull away. ‘No. No. This is all wrong.’
‘It’s not!’ he exclaims.
‘No. We can’t start off like this. I have to go back. I have to sort things out.’
‘No!’
‘Yes. I have to. This isn’t right. It’s so wrong. We’ve been living in a dream world and I have to go back and face up to my responsibilities. I have to talk to Lukas. I owe it to him to explain, at the very least. I need to talk to my parents. And Lizzy’s going to do her nut in . . .’
‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘No.’
‘Joe, you have to let me go. You have to let me do this.’
‘I can’t. What if he takes you back?’
‘He won’t.’
‘I would.’
‘No, you wouldn’t. Not after all of this.’
‘I would.’
‘I have to go.’
‘No!’
‘Yes. If this is meant to be, if we are meant to be together, then we will be.’
‘We are meant to be together!’ he shouts.
I sigh and look at him. He’s overwrought with anxiety. He takes a deep breath, and then speaks: ‘How long do you need?’
‘I wish I knew.’
He wants to drive me back to my parents, but I’m worried someone will see us.
‘I’d be thrilled if they did,’ he says.
I give him a wry look.
‘I’m not being sarcastic – I want people to see us.’
For the first time I think about the Andy Carl interview. This would be big news. I’m the ‘Alice’ Joseph Strike spoke about on live television.
‘And then everyone would find out that the love of your life is an unfaithful bitch who cheated on her husband.’ He flinches. ‘You know we should do this properly,’ I add.
He reluctantly agrees to drive me to the station instead. In the car he turns to face me. His expression is a mix of emotions.
‘Alice, if he takes you back—’
‘He won’t!’
‘If he does . . . And if you choose to have a normal life with him instead of a crazy one with me, I’ll still want you. Even if I can’t have the whole of you.’ He stares at me directly. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’
I can’t speak for the lump in my throat.
‘This could still be our place . . .’ He grips my arm. ‘I need to know you understand what I’m saying!’ he adds heatedly.
I regard him warily and then, hesitantly, I nod.
He pulls me to him and kisses my lips once more before letting me go.
It’s a hot and hazy summer’s day. There’s a naval ship out on the horizon and white gulls swoop across the cliffs and directly above my head. There’s an indentation on my finger where my rings should be and it feels strange not to have them on.
I arrived early and le
ft a note, but there was really no need. He’ll know where I am. I wait for him on the yellow-green grass, under the sun and the blue, blue sky. I wait for him, full of anticipation and hope and love.
I sense him behind me, but don’t turn around. A smile forms on my lips as his hands gently touch my shoulders, and then I look up into his brown eyes which still manage to sparkle even when it’s dark. But today there’s no darkness, no sadness, only light and love.
‘You came,’ he says, pulling me to my feet and touching his hands to my face.
‘I told you I would.’ I slide my hands around his neck and gaze up at him. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you more,’ he says.
‘Still?’
He smiles and my heart flips. ‘Always.’
MASSIVE thanks to my readers, who continue to blow me away with their incredible messages of support, both on Facebook and now Twitter. Please keep them coming – you have no idea how much you make me smile.
Thank you to Nigel Stoneman, not only for letting my family and I stay in the beautiful Dorset cottage that inspired the story for One Perfect Summer, but also for saying, ‘you should write a book’, and twenty minutes later, passing on my idea for Lucy in the Sky to his Publishing Director, Suzanne Baboneau. One week later I had a two-book deal, and I still can’t believe how lucky I am.
Thank you to the aforementioned Suzanne Baboneau, who is a brilliant editor and who I would trust with my life and not just my books. And thank you to the whole team at Simon & Schuster. For the last five books I’ve wanted to name names, but I have always been too worried I’d leave someone out. This time though, I really must thank the following people: Sarah Birdsey, for selling my translation rights to more countries than I can count (or at least, remember); Florence Partridge, for her ongoing hard work with publicity; Matt Johnson and Lewis Csizmazia, for the beautiful cover design; and Dawn Burnett, Ally Glynn, Sara-Jade Virtue, Maxine Hitchcock, Georgina Bouzova, Alice Murphy and copy-editor extraordinaire, Clare Parkinson.
Thank you also to my film agents, Charlotte Knight and Tanya Tillett from Knight Hall Agency.
This is going to be my longest acknowledgements ever, because I have so many people to thank for their help with writing this book. We moved to Cambridge in August 2011, at the exact point in the story that Alice goes to university there, and it was such a joy to research the city that had become our new home.
