Some Kind of Wonderful

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Some Kind of Wonderful Page 30

by Giovanna Fletcher


  ‘Sing it proud? More like gay and proud,’ Dad says loudly, causing a few people to look over and smile politely.

  One woman who I don’t recognize turns to a friend standing next to her and, probably louder than she means to, exclaims, ‘I told you so!’

  I can’t help but giggle.

  ‘Slightly worrying that the wrong news is out and circulating through the gossip mill, though,’ Dad grimaces. ‘Sorry, Ted,’ he says apologetically.

  ‘I’m flattered,’ Ted smiles bashfully, the red of his cheeks deepening.

  ‘Don’t be getting any ideas!’ Mum says, playfully pulling Ted towards her and away from Dad’s grasp. ‘I’ve already lost one husband.’

  We laugh at the unusual situation we’re now all so used to being in. The absolute truth might not be out there but over time it will be, and that’s got to be a relief for all of them, not just Dad. Their close bond never needed explaining anyway, but at least it now makes more sense to outsiders looking in.

  ‘We met your new boss just now,’ says Ted, looking around the room to see if he can spot Natalia, who I realize I haven’t seen since she wandered in late.

  ‘Oh yes!’ says Mum with a big grin on her face. ‘She loves you!’

  ‘What a fascinating woman,’ nods Dad approvingly. ‘She’s fluent in Italian, French, Spanish and Russian.’

  ‘Really?’ I question, understandably impressed. There’s so much I’m yet to learn about my new friend.

  ‘And she was talking to a very handsome chap,’ trills Mum.

  ‘Not Albie again?’ I laugh, wondering if every woman in my life is going to be falling at my new friend’s feet now they’ve had the pleasure of hearing him sing.

  ‘I don’t think that was his name, dear,’ Mum says distractedly, waving at someone behind me. ‘Here they are.’

  I turn to find Natalia looking as pristine and pretty as ever, although she looks uncharacteristically agitated. I only have to move my gaze to the left slightly to find the source of that emotion.

  Alastair. The man-bunned, tattooed wonder I’ve not been able to stop thinking about.

  My tummy flips in response.

  ‘Hi!’ I say, the word getting lost in my constricting throat.

  ‘That was incredible!’ Natalia says to me, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me close so she can hiss in my ear, ‘I’m so sorry.’

  When we part she flashes me a regretful glance.

  ‘Alastair,’ I say, turning to him, caught off guard by the fact that he’s even more good-looking than I remember. Especially now in his skinny jeans, white tee, camel-coloured boots and sheepskin coat. He’s like a winter’s dream and I have to resist the urge to slide my hands under the layers of his clothing and throw my own body against his inviting chest. Instead I find myself rooted to the spot, not moving while gawkily gawping at him.

  He must sense my hesitation as there’s a grin on his face as he places a hand on my waist and leans in to kiss me on the cheek. ‘What a brilliant night,’ he says sounding sincere, leaving me with a lingering and inviting whiff of his familiar aftershave.

  ‘Thanks … I would introduce you to my family but it appears you’ve met them,’ I say, looking awkwardly around the circle we’re all standing in.

  ‘I have,’ Alastair grins again, nodding to each of them as they greet him warmly.

  The fact that he’s here uninvited should be creepy, but my insides are too confused, too chuffed, too touched to protest.

  ‘Alastair was telling us all about your night together,’ says Dad, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘Sounds saucy.’

  My mouth drops. Surely not.

  ‘Clubs have changed a lot from when we were younger,’ Mum thankfully adds, raising her eyebrows in dismay.

  ‘Oh,’ I say, trying to recover from my overreaction. ‘Yes. Shocking,’ I say, matching their reactions. I’m not about to tell them I thoroughly enjoyed it all and ruin their good opinions of me.

  ‘Definitely the best New Year’s I’ve ever had …’ says Alastair, looking straight at me, the loaded statement catching me by surprise.

  ‘Wouldn’t recommend the club, though,’ Natalia says sweetly to my parents, mercifully pulling the attention away from me and Alastair as it takes a second or two for me to tear my eyes away from his gaze.

  ‘No, doesn’t sound my cup of …’ Mum stops talking midsentence and starts squinting between Alastair and me. I can literally see the realization hit her. Alastair is not my new boss’s man, but the man Connie’s mum told her I’d spent all of New Year’s Eve getting jiggy with.

  ‘Darling!’ she says, looking over my shoulder again at something she’s supposedly seen across the room. She manically pats Ted on the arm. ‘Is that Vanessa leaving? We should grab her before she does. It’s Dennis’s birthday party next week and I need to find out if she wants dark or milk chocolate put on top of the profiteroles I’m making. It will be a disaster if I get it wrong.’

  ‘OK,’ says Ted compliantly, eager as ever to do whatever she asks.

  ‘You should come too,’ she says to Dad, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

  ‘Really? I don’t think I –’ Mum’s continuous glare halts him. ‘Oh yes! You’re right. I should see if they’ve had any more thought on that reading they wanted me to do,’ mumbles Dad, glancing at me sideways before going after them.

  ‘Back in a bit,’ Mum cheerily calls over her shoulder.

  I look from Natalia to Alastair, while Natalia looks from Alastair to me, and Alastair looks just at me. We stand silently, yet loudly. I’ve no doubt Natalia is inwardly screaming after being ambushed into coming by Alastair, while I’m wondering what on earth I should say and why I’m so happy to see him. On the flip side, Alastair’s probably cackling away inside – the only one of us to be fully prepared for our being face to face again.

  ‘Oh sod it,’ Natalia says, with no enthusiasm or drive, her voice monotone and robotic. ‘I’ve not seen Stu yet. I should probably go say hello to one of my oldest friends.’

  She can’t even look at me as she swivels and goes towards Stu and Michelle who are now standing talking to another baby-holding couple.

  I look at them imploringly, willing one of them to come back and rescue me, but of course, no one does.

  37

  ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ Alastair says, unable to control the smile on his face from growing even wider now that it’s just us left standing together.

  ‘Fancy that,’ I say, raising an eyebrow at him.

  ‘Want to go for a walk?’ he suggests.

  I hesitate. I’m safe here, surrounded by my family and new and old friends, but I also don’t really want to be having this conversation in plain view of everyone else. I have to agree that it would be good to have some privacy away from my biggest fans, who are currently pretending to chat amongst themselves but are actually just staring at us rather unsubtly.

  ‘All right,’ I say, grabbing my puffy North Face coat from where I dumped it earlier and guiding us out into the frosty winter air. Following the street lamps, I walk around the side of the church and lead us past the small playground where I used to play when I was younger.

  Apart from the odd bit of chatter or laughter travelling across from the crowd we’ve just left at the church, it’s quiet. It’s a still night, with just a hint of a cool breeze tickling the branches of the trees around us. The sky is clear and black, allowing me to see the twinkling of stars above.

  Sitting down on a bench on the dimly lit pathway next to the park, I take in the peacefulness of it all and instantly regret it. This would be easier on my feet. I’d be freer and able to put more of a distance between us, but now I’m committed. I’m not trapped, but acutely aware of my desire for him, and how conflicted that makes me. I sigh at the romance of it all, realizing it’s been a long time since I’ve experienced feelings like this.

  ‘It’s been four weeks,’ Alastair says gently, sitting down next to me, the bench wobbling as he does s
o. I look over at him to find he’s not looking back. Instead he’s taking in the view in front of us as he twiddles his fingers. The heartthrob beside me who is known for his expert and confident flirting skills seems surprisingly nervous. ‘I’ve been thinking about you.’

  Suddenly the air surrounding us is expectant, charged and thick, as though something is going to happen. Some big, monumental life moment, and I can’t cope with the thought of it.

  ‘Sorry, Alastair,’ I hear my own voice regretfully yet decisively saying. ‘It’s so sweet of you to come all this way and support me, but – and I’ve already said this to Nat – I really can’t have some guy flouncing into my life and complicating things.’

  ‘You can’t,’ he agrees, sounding more supportive than deflated.

  ‘I’ve got a plan,’ I carry on, reminding myself what I’ve been working towards in these last few weeks as I tell him. It’s not been easy to pick myself up off the ground and move forward, but I have and I’m hugely proud of the decisions I’ve made. ‘I’m going travelling, and I don’t want my feelings for that being muddled.’

  ‘And they shouldn’t be!’ he argues rather too adamantly.

  ‘Exactly,’ I say, confused as to how I’ve found myself nodding along with him when it was my point to make. ‘I want to enjoy it and not feel like I’m being pulled between two places or like I have a choice to make.’ I stop, deciding to bite the bullet and just get it out there. ‘I like you. I really like you. We had an amazing time on New Year’s Eve, but right now my life isn’t about that.’

  I take a deep breath, happy that my thoughts are out there, but also apprehensive about how this guy who I’ve only met once is going to reply to my rebuff. I’m not rejecting him, it’s more the thought of having anyone in my life right now that fills me with fear for what could be – a bunch of ‘what ifs’ when what I really want is to be able to spend the next three months living completely in the moment.

  ‘Well, this is awkward,’ he coughs, shuffling his body, his knee accidentally grazing my leg and startling me. ‘I’m actually just here to see my aunt … She’s in the choir. Tall blonde lady. I was as surprised as you are to find us both here,’ he declares, glancing at me sidelong.

  I want the ground to swallow me up, which is hardly surprising as I’ve just acted like he’s here to sweep me off my feet and fireman-lift me all the way to his great white stallion of a horse so that we can gallop towards the sunset in each other’s arms, chasing after our happily-ever-after ending together.

  ‘Oh,’ I manage to mumble as the heat of embarrassment floods through my entire body. ‘I’m so, so –’

  ‘Slight lisp,’ he interrupts.

  I think through all the ladies in the choir, not sure I’ve noticed any of them having a lisp. But then there’s also the fact he’s from Leeds, and I don’t seem to remember any blonde woman with an accent either …

  I pause in my frantic scramble to get out of the hole I’ve dug myself into and look at him. The world is a small place, but can it really be that small?

  ‘Maybe I’ve not met her,’ I say, unable to hide my suspicion as I turn to him and study the finer details on his face to see if I’m right.

  His upper lip twitches, something he must be aware of as he quickly pouts and relaxes in a bid to regain control of it. The lip twitch has gone, but now he seems to have something in his throat as he gives a feeble cough to clear it.

  ‘You must know her,’ he swallows, putting a hand over his eyes before continuing. ‘Has a wooden leg and a pet raccoon? Drives a pink moped?’ He turns to me, cocking his head to one side as a delicious smile starts climbing its way across his lips.

  ‘Very funny,’ I say, relieved that my earlier spiel isn’t quite as embarrassing as I’d feared.

  We sit in silence for a few moments, each looking out at the beautiful view of the park which is lined with trees that have been growing their roots here for decades, possibly centuries.

  ‘I’m sorry for turning up unannounced but you’re not on Facebook,’ he says by way of explanation, looking over at me with an incredulous expression. ‘I mean, who isn’t on Facebook these days? And then no one would give me your number. They said you wouldn’t let them. Connie, Matt, my best mate – even your sister, who I managed to find through tagged wedding photos, said I wasn’t to contact you.’

  ‘Must’ve hurt,’ I say, wondering when he and Michelle started talking. Judging by her reaction to his profile I’m sure she was thrilled when his name popped up in her inbox. I imagine it’s kept her highly entertained during the delirious night feeds.

  ‘I’ve never had someone I like not want me to get in touch before. It’s never happened,’ he admits, his words matter-of-fact rather than arrogant. ‘I’m glad I finally tracked you down. I was going to start going to coffee mornings and fetes next.’

  I laugh at the thought of it.

  ‘Will you let me take you on a date?’ he asks, his voice naturally low and bewitching.

  ‘Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said?’ I groan. ‘I’m going away.’

  ‘Then let me treat you to a goodbye date,’ he suggests with a shrug, as though it’s a perfectly innocent suggestion.

  ‘I’m going away,’ I repeat, standing my ground.

  ‘Yep, heard that bit loud and clear … but you like me,’ he smiles cheekily. ‘You really like me. You said so yourself.’

  His persistence makes me chuckle.

  ‘I’m going through a bit of a thing and it’s complicated,’ I explain.

  ‘Michelle told me,’ he nods, his eyes looking at me with tenderness, as though he completely understands my woe.

  ‘She did?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes,’ he nods. ‘I totally get it. You’re completely right. This is your time to get out of here and do whatever it is you want to.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to say …’

  ‘I respect that wholeheartedly. I don’t want to be complicating things or stopping you from having an amazing experience away. That’s not who I am,’ he shrugs. ‘I think it’s admirable.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, nibbling on my lip, not entirely sure what’s happening.

  ‘I just wanted to see you before you went.’

  ‘OK …’

  ‘Shit,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘I’ve met you once. Once. There is no pressure from me, although I understand that me being here tonight might give off those pressure vibes …’

  ‘It has the potential,’ I admit.

  ‘I should’ve asked for your number that night,’ he says regretfully. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t.’

  ‘Even if you’d asked I promised Natalia I wouldn’t, anyway,’ I smirk.

  ‘True,’ he says, considering the thought. ‘But I think you would’ve done. And not because I think I’m amazingly smooth and can get whatever I want – but because you like me and I like you. It’s that simple,’ he stops to flash me a bashful smile.

  I return the look because I can’t help but do so. It spills out of me.

  ‘I don’t say that, by the way. Ever,’ he continues. ‘But then I don’t feel it either. You’re not going to be here for a while, so I had to see you. I’m not here to interfere with your plans, but I want you to know that when you’re back I would very much like to take you out for a drink, or pancakes, or to the cinema, or to the zoo – whatever you fancy,’ he says, rhythmically tapping his palms against his thighs.

  ‘You’ll have moved on by then,’ I tell him, wrapping my coat around me a little more in a bid to keep out the frosty air.

  ‘I doubt it,’ he says with an exasperated sigh, breathing into his hands.

  ‘Fine,’ I tell him with a defiant nod. ‘But I’m not giving you my number or going back on Facebook. There’ll be no time wasted with me waiting for your call or wondering why you’ve not responded to a message. I do not want to even think about you until I’ve landed back at Stansted Airport and am ready to think about what I want from the futur
e.’

  ‘Got it,’ he says.

  ‘And even then, you’ll be a fleeting thought,’ I add.

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘A casual flicker of a thought that I’ll brush over and forget about for at least a week or two …’

  ‘Steady on,’ Alastair says, amused, holding his palms in the air to stop me getting even more carried away. ‘I get the point.’

  A giggle flies out of my mouth, catching me off guard. ‘Sorry,’ I say, instinctively placing my hand on his thigh to give further weight to the apology and ensure I haven’t actually offended him.

  He puts a hand on top of mine.

  We sit staring down – at his thigh, my hand, his hand, as though it’s the most fascinating, alluring and compelling sight we’ve ever come across. The way my breathing becomes heavy in my chest you’d be forgiven for thinking it is.

  ‘It was only one night,’ I eventually mutter to myself, echoing what he said earlier.

  ‘Maybe it only takes one night,’ Alastair says so quietly I almost miss the words.

  I take a deep breath and remove my hand, which now feels as though it’s been placed into a roaring hot fire.

  ‘I’d best get back. They’ll be waiting for me,’ I say, looking towards the church which, by the sounds of it, is still a hive of activity.

  ‘Yes,’ he says, jumping to his feet.

  I join him in standing and am wracked by hesitation. Suddenly realizing that if I don’t do something right now I’m going to spend the next three months regretting it anyway – and therefore thinking about him regardless of my resolve.

  ‘Fuck it,’ I say as I practically jump on him, wrapping my arms around his neck as I place my lips upon his. I breathe as much of him in as I can and I love every single second of him wanting me back.

  I pull away, my head light and my chest pounding, unable to look away from Alastair, who looks happily taken aback at what’s just happened.

 

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