As Luck Would Have It

by Zoe May

  ‘Yeah, of course. I’ve often wondered what might have been. You know my parents got together when they were 15? They were childhood sweethearts. Stayed together until my dad … passed away,’ Will says, looking back down at his plate.

  I reach over and squeeze his hand. It may have been eight years since his dad died but it’s clearly still hard for him to say that out loud.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Will says, taking a deep breath and reaching for his wine. ‘My parents met at school too, and they got together and stayed together, so yeah, I have often wondered what might have happened between us. I’ve been going through all my old stuff since I got back to Chiddingfold and I found loads of things that reminded me of you. A little charcoal portrait you did of me in Art Club. An album by The Strokes that you leant me and I clearly never gave back. Pictures from that camping trip we went on.’

  Will gazes at me, a sweet, nostalgic look in his eyes. I picture him, sifting through all these things from our past and I feel almost guilty. I shut the past away, literally and metaphorically. When Will broke my heart so many years ago, I either threw out or packed away everything that reminded me of him. I tried to forget everything that had happened between us, yet Will’s revisited some of those mementos. I can’t help wondering what he felt when he found them.

  ‘I wondered where that Strokes album had got to,’ I joke, trying to sound more casual than I feel.

  Will laughs. ‘The portrait you did of me was actually really good. I pinned it up on the noticeboard of my flat.’

  ‘Really?!’ I balk, thinking back to the portrait. I still remember it, after all these years. Namely, because I still remember how I managed to capture Will’s likeness and that at the time, I really wanted to keep the portrait to pore over it in my forlorn teenage way, yet Will took a shine to it and I couldn’t exactly tell him how much I wanted it for myself. But I can’t believe he still has it, sixteen years later! Now, I really have to know how he feels. Doesn’t that stuff make him feel weird given what happened between us? Or has he somehow been able to look at the past through rose-tinted glasses?

  ‘But everything went so wrong between us,’ I blurt out. ‘I mean, we got on amazingly for a while, but then you went for Jo and everything was just … over.’

  Will sighs. ‘I know. I guess I freaked out. What my parents had at school turned into something so serious and I suppose I wasn’t ready. We were so young and yet what we had felt so intense. I wanted something serious in a way, but I was also just a teenager who wanted to fit in with his friends. And all my friends were pressuring me to have sex, play the field, go to parties. I know it’s pathetic that I gave in, but I was just immature.’

  ‘Wow. All this time, I thought you just didn’t care. I didn’t realise you freaked out like that,’ I comment, thinking aloud.

  Will nods. ‘I really liked you, Natalie. I know it sounds stupid, but I don’t think I was ready for all the feelings I was having so I screwed it up like a dumb kid.’

  ‘God, I can’t believe this.’ I take another sip of my wine, my heart lurching. I feel like the lovestruck girl I once was.

  Now it’s Will’s turn to reach over and squeeze my hand. His wedding ring glints in the candlelight.

  ‘You know I adored you back then?’ I admit.

  Will nods, looking contrite. ‘I know. I wasn’t mature enough to handle it. I knew if we got together, it would mean something. I knew it would be serious.’

  I nod. He’s right, it would have been serious. I loved Will back then and even though we were young, it felt real. It felt like it could go somewhere, but I can see why that freaked him out. He was just a 16-year-old boy – the best-looking guy in school – with loads of admirers and a ton of peer pressure from his friends to play the field and do what everyone else was doing. I can’t blame him for not wanting to settle down back then. He naturally would have panicked if he thought our relationship might end up being as serious or as long-term as his parents’. I can see how easy it would have been for him to have got unnerved and freaked out, screwing the whole thing up. If I’d have been in his shoes, I might well have done the same.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Natalie,’ Will says. ‘I know it’s long overdue, but I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay, Will. Honestly, it’s okay,’ I insist, and for the first time in years, I genuinely mean it.

  I feel relieved that Will and I have spoken about this. It may have happened years ago, but it still kind of felt like the elephant in the room. I gaze out over the beautiful restaurant, observing the diners chatting away and enjoying their food, taking in the waiters weaving between tables carrying delicious dishes.

  ‘I do have a confession to make though,’ Will continues.

  ‘What? I thought we’d cleared the air. What now?’ I ask apprehensively, racking my brains for what Will be about to say. Surely there’s nothing else to ‘fess up to?! I thought we’d cleared the air. I reach for my wine and take a sip.

  Will places his knife and fork down on his plate. ‘I knew you were back in Chiddingfold,’ he says, meeting my gaze. ‘My mum ran into yours at the Co-op and your mum mentioned you were both going to the fundraiser so that’s why I went. I wanted to run into you.’

  I raise an eyebrow. ‘Really?’ I balk, feeling genuinely taken aback. ‘But you seemed surprised to see me there!’

  ‘I know. I was playing it cool. I knew you’d be there, and I was actually really excited to see you again,’ Will admits, looking a little sheepish.

  I try to take in what he’s saying. Did he go to the fundraiser because he wanted to catch up like old friends or did he go because he wanted to rekindle something? Did seeing the portrait I did of him and rediscovering all those old trinkets reignite his feelings? Or was he just curious to see how I am? Suddenly, another thought hits me.

  ‘Hang on a minute, don’t tell me you slipped Edna a twenty to get her to pull out our tickets so we’d end up on this holiday together?’ I’m only half-joking.

  Will laughs loudly. ‘No! I’m not that bad! But I have to admit, I wasn’t exactly disappointed when our names got read out.’

  I’m in such shock that I can barely think of how to respond. Will wanted to see me all along? He did a good job of hiding it. I thought he was just as surprised to see me at the fundraiser as I was to see him. And to think, he wanted to go on holiday with me … I try to think how to respond, but I feel totally lost for words. All of a sudden, a waiter comes over to our table carrying a cake, grinning widely. I’m about to tell him he’s got the wrong table when he places the cake down between me and Will.

  ‘For the newlyweds!’ he gushes. The cake is covered in white frosting with iced love hearts surrounding the word, ‘Congratulations’.

  I look in shock at Will, who is clearly trying hard not to laugh.

  Chapter 14

  ‘Good morning lovebirds!’ Medhi booms as Will and I come down from our room the following morning.

  ‘Morning Medhi!’ I reply brightly.

  ‘How did you sleep?’ Medhi asks. ‘No issues?’

  By issues does he mean diarrhoea?

  ‘Nope! None at all,’ I reply firmly.

  Will smiles cheekily. I shoot him a glare, which only makes him smile more.

  Fortunately, the nosy housekeeper is going to find our bed looking like it’s been slept in by both of us. When Will and I got back last night, we decided to just sleep together. Not actually sleep together, but we slept side by side. The sofa was untouched. I managed to have a surprisingly restful night’s sleep, despite the strangeness of sleeping next to a man for the first time in well over a year.

  ‘I’m so glad,’ Medhi says. ‘I told you Amira’s tea would work.’

  ‘Oh, it worked a treat,’ I insist, trying to ignore the increasingly familiar twinge of guilt.

  ‘Excellent.’ Medhi smiles. ‘So, you’re taking a carriage tour today?’ Medhi asks. I know newlyweds are meant to spend their honeymoon barely leaving their king-sized bed, but the
re’s only so much time Will and I can spend in the jacuzzi and today we’ve decided to properly explore Marrakech, starting with a horse-drawn carriage tour. Although I have no idea how Medhi knows about it. I glace at Will, who seems equally perplexed.

  ‘Your carriage awaits!’ Medhi says with aplomb, gesturing across reception.

  ‘It’s here already?’ I cross reception to get a better look. Medhi’s right. Our carriage awaits! There’s a horse-drawn carriage that truly looks like something from a fairy tale with its enormous wheels, fringed canopy and beautiful shiny horses.

  ‘Oh, it’s so pretty!’ I enthuse, glancing at Will. Even he looks taken aback by how gorgeous it is.

  We thank Medhi and step outside. It’s a beautiful day. The sky is a bright, azure blue and it’s warm, but breezy. It’s the perfect day for a nice leisurely tour of such a fascinating city. I take a few pictures of the carriage to message to my mum – she would love something like this.

  The guide sets off, the horses’ hooves clip-clapping against the ground as we set off. We gaze out of the carriage window, which is framed with a cute curtain and take in the sights, from the souk to the crafts markets to ancient palaces and tombs. The sights are incredible, and I’ve already taken dozens of pictures by the time we stop at one of the palaces, Bahia Palace, and have a wander around. The palace is a sprawling nineteenth-century estate with a beautiful courtyard embellished with colourful mosaics, carved columns, intricate archways and coloured glass windows. It’s stunning and as well as taking incredible Instagram-worthy snaps, we wander through, reading about the history of the landmark and discovering more about Marrakech as we do so.

  We stop off at nearby tombs – the Saadian tombs – which date back hundreds of years, containing the graves of long-lost emperors. Despite being a little spooky, they’re stunningly beautiful, with decadent carved stone pillars and frescoes. We wander through, taking it in, until the site gets crowded with an afternoon rush of tourists, and we decide to hear back to our carriage.

  Eventually, our guide drops us off back at the souk and as we step off and re-join the hustle and bustle, I feel like I’m waking up from a daydream. The antiquated carriage combined with the otherworldly sights was just so surreal, and so different to the commotion of the souk. Will and I are both hungry at this point, so we head to a nearby café for a quick lunch to refuel before doing a bit of shopping. I pick up some spices and a nice hand painted tagine dish for my mum, a gorgeous little embroidered kaftan for Hera, a big beaded necklace for Lauren and some bangles for my assistant, Emma. Will and I go halves on buying two beautiful throws for Mick and his niece Hannah for sorting us out with this holiday and we get the same for Medhi and Amira to thank them for everything. Will gets the sparkly purple slippers he was admiring the other day for his mum.

  We end up with so much stuff that we decide to take a taxi back to the hotel to unload everything and enjoy the rest of the day’s sunshine at the pool. We leave our bags in our room and get changed into our swimsuits, still in the habit of one of us changing in the bathroom whole the other changes in the room. Our changing arrangements have become so routine that it goes without saying now that if one of us is undressing, the other will pop into the bathroom. Will’s actually been really cool about it. The same’s gone for our sleeping arrangements too. While we gave up on using the sofa thanks to the nosy housekeeper, we’ve managed to become respectful sleeping companions. The bed is large enough that we each have our own space and we’ve stayed respectfully on our chosen sides. Will doesn’t even hog the duvet.

  Once I’ve got my bikini on and a poolside robe, I reach for the book I’ve been meaning to read, which has so far remained unopened on the bedside table. I glance over at Will as I pick it up. He’s already sitting at the edge of the bed in his trunks and a T-shirt, his book in his hand. It strikes me as a little funny how in tune Will and I are. Today has been a perfect day and we’ve both wanted to do exactly the same things at the same time, from happily exploring the palaces and tombs together to stopping for lunch and haggling over goods. And now we’re both up for reading by the pool. There’s been no discord or disagreement over what we do at all.

  I decide to voice this thought to Will as we leave the room.

  ‘Well, I like to think of myself as fairly easy-going,’ Will says as we get in the lift.

  ‘You are! Today has felt so easy. When I was on holiday with Lauren, she’d hardly want to sightsee at all. A holiday with Lauren consists of a lot of cocktails, a lot of time on the beach or pool or a lot of shopping. It’s fun and all that but there are times when it would get a bit annoying,’ I recall, thinking of one time when Lauren and I went on holiday to Majorca and she hadn’t wanted to leave the hotel complex, since it had pretty much everything she could possibly want: a pool, a bar and attractive men.

  ‘Yeah, I know what you mean. That sounds a bit like my holiday with Nathan and Jones. Lots of booze and the beach. And that was pretty much it.’

  ‘And the pajazzle. Don’t forget the pajazzle,’ I joke as we arrive on the ground floor and walk down the corridor towards the pool.

  Will pokes me. ‘What happens in Ibiza stays in Ibiza! At least it was meant to,’ he grumbles, the corner of his mouth curling into a reluctant smile.

  I laugh as we emerge into the courtyard. The aquamarine pool, surrounded by sun loungers, and framed by palm trees, pillars and arches is a truly stunning sight. I feel a fresh wave of gratitude that Will and I are here, in this beautiful place.

  Will and I settle down on sun loungers and immediately a member of staff comes along to see if we’d like to order a drink. I opt for a non-alcoholic cocktail and Will goes for the same. It strikes me as amusing that he goes for a mocktail too, as though we’re on the same page with that as well, but I don’t bother saying anything.

  The weather is perfect. The sun bounces off the pool, making it sparkle prettily. It’s perfectly warm without being sweltering. With the palm trees and the dreamy archways and pillars, I feel miles away from home yet perfectly content. I lower my sunglasses and open my book.

  I read a few pages, feeling the sun warming my body. The waiter places my drink down and I take a sip, feeling utterly content.

  A shuffling sound suddenly interrupts the moment and both Will and I look over to see Medhi’s son, Mohammed, playing a card game at a small table underneath a palm tree. He’s shuffling his deck and laying the cards out on the table. It looks like he’s playing solitaire.

  ‘He looks a bit lonely,’ Will remarks in a hushed voice, his tone a little dreamy as though he’s thinking out loud.

  ‘I guess this is heaven for us, but even paradise must get boring if it’s your daily life!’

  ‘Yeah, no siblings to play with. Lots of strangers. Doesn’t look like he gets to hang out with many kids his own age. Poor lad,’ Will says.

  I watch him playing solitaire, the sun beaming down on him. He looks pretty content from where I’m sitting.

  ‘That’s probably why he’s a bit shy,’ Will adds.

  ‘Maybe,’ I agree, studying Will’s face as he watches the boy. He may have been sixteen years older than when I last saw him, but Will’s still exactly the same person. He’s still the same inquisitive, curious soul, the person who looks at the people around him – really looks – and tries to help them. He’s frowning slightly and I can tell this 15-year-old boy’s potential loneliness and shyness bothers him. While most holiday-goers would be concerned about the quality of their tan or whether they’ve got enough good pictures for Facebook, Will is worried about other people – strangers –and instinctively wants to help them feel better. Just like he saw me struggling with my Art Club all those years ago and helped with that too.

  As I gaze at him, the sun illuminating his strong features. He’s completely unselfconscious, wrapped up in thought. I feel a strange stirring – not the lustful butterflies I felt when we kissed in the park, but a raw tug in my heart. That pull towards him – a familiar and yet lo
ng-lost feeling. A feeling I haven’t had since I was 16.

  Will suddenly flicks his eyes over to me and I look away, embarrassed, as though he might have somehow been able to know what I was thinking. I turn back to my book and pretend to be engrossed, blankly reading a few lines before reaching for my drink. After a moment or so, I steal a quick glance at Will to see he’s opened his book now too. Do I have feelings for Will? What is this? Lust is one thing. I can understand feeling lustful towards him, after all, it’s been a while, but what I just felt wasn’t lust. It was something much more concerning.

  ‘You’re right actually,’ Will says, just as I try to switch from pretend reading to actual reading. I’ve managed to take in one sentence and now he’s piping up.

  ‘I’m right about what?’ I ask. His book is open on his lap, but he clearly hasn’t been taking a word in either. He looks as lost in thought as I feel, although maybe not quite so confused.

  ‘What you were saying about our holiday,’ Will remarks. ‘This holiday with you has been easy. I was just thinking about when I went to Ibiza with Nathan and Jonesy. I suggested one afternoon that we go and check out the Roman ruins in the old part of the island and they laughed in my face. I get it, they were just there to let off steam and get smashed but one afternoon wouldn’t have killed them. Oh, and there was this Irish pub by our hotel, and they wanted to eat there every day. The pub did fry ups until 4 p.m., can you believe it? 4 p.m.? That’s how nocturnal everyone there was. We’d roll over there and have a big greasy fry-up every day.’

  ‘Ewww. An Irish pub in Ibiza. Sounds like the least classy holiday ever!’ I joke.

  ‘Yeah, it did leave quite a lot to be desired,’ Will says. ‘I suggested to the guys that we try some other places, maybe the taverna down the road, but they weren’t interested.’

  ‘Poor Will,’ I coo, giving his arm a squeeze with a mock sympathetic expression plastered over my face.