by Katy Cannon
“And that’s great,” Mum said. “It’s important to be well informed. But books can only tell you so much. There are some things you’ll need to experience for yourself.”
As if I didn’t know that already.
But as Mum articulated my basic writing plan back to me, I realized I hadn’t followed my idea all the way through to its logical conclusion. I’d planned to experience everything that happened to my characters so I could write about it – falling for someone, the first kiss, dates, every last bit of it.
But how far was I really willing to go for that research?
“The things books can’t really tell you is how it will feel,” Mum said. “And they definitely won’t address the strange tendency of our family to fall headfirst into romance and believe it’s love.”
“You’re worried I’m going to do a Gran?” My surprise at Mum’s concern knocked my other worries from my head, and I laughed. “Right, Mum. Because I’m absolutely going to marry the first boy that asks me on a date. That’s totally me. How well you know me.”
Mum sighed at my sarcasm. “No, Tilly. I know you’re more sensible than that. Of course I do. It’s just … so was I.”
And she’d still fallen in love and got married to Dad at nineteen. Just three years older than I was now.
OK, maybe she wasn’t being completely off the wall with her concern.
“Mum, really, you don’t need to worry about me rushing into anything.” Not just marriage, but anything else, either. I had a lot of things planned for my characters that I didn’t intend to experience in real life – especially the bad stuff that had to take place to add drama to the Black Moment towards the end of the book. All I needed was the intensity of the emotion of falling for someone – and Zach was already helping me with that. That didn’t mean I needed to jump into bed – or to the altar – with him.
When I decided to sleep with a guy – Zach or anyone else – it would be for a lot more and better reasons than to help me write a book.
“Good.” Mum grabbed my hand across the counter. “Because you know … even though I love your dad very much, and wouldn’t change the way things happened for the world because it meant I got you and the twins out of the deal … it wasn’t always easy.”
“I remember,” I said softly, thinking of those months after we moved in with Gran, when Mum was nowhere to be found. “I always wondered … you and Dad are both so logical about love when you’re writing about it. But when it came to living it…”
Mum laughed, reaching for her tea again. “Yes, well, that’s the thing about love. It’s a trickster. Embarrassingly, it doesn’t seem to matter how much you understand the science or the maths behind it all – which I’ll admit, I didn’t at nineteen, but definitely should have done at thirty one, or thirty two, after I finished my PhD.”
Thirty one. That was how old she’d been when she left us. And she’d been thirty two when she came back again.
Mum smiled. “It can still blindside you, love. I could show you the exact moments that different chemical stages took place in my head to make me act certain ways. Your dad could probably map out the exact probability of us ending up together. But none of it would have made any difference at the time. Because love, however logical, only ever feels real.”
“Sounds like Gran’s books,” I joked. “Doesn’t matter how much she thinks she knows what’s going to happen in them, or how she imagines the hero and heroine getting together, things always change once the characters come to life on the page.”
“Love just isn’t one of those things you can plan, it seems,” Mum said, with a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be prepared. So … if there’s anything in any of those books you want to talk about, you know where I am. OK?”
I nodded. “OK.”
Right on cue, the door crashed open and Dad called for someone to fetch the first aid kit.
“A fiver it’s Freddie that’s bleeding.” Mum pressed a kiss to the top of my head as she went to find the plasters and the emergency chocolate buttons.
“No bet,” I called after her. It was always Freddie.
Was Mum right? I’d worked so hard to plan out the relationship I needed to have with Zach for the book but of course it wasn’t entirely under my control. He had his own side of it all, too. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t write the script for both of us.
I’d have to hope he followed my plot and I could keep up with his dialogue.
“Statistically, most first dates don’t lead to marriage – or even knowing your date much better. Of course, that’s probably because most first dates take place in venues where you can’t really look at or talk to your date – cinemas mostly. It’s a cultural failing.”
The Probability of Love (2015), Dr Rory Frost
“What about these ones?” I held the earrings up to my ears and turned to smile at the screen on my tablet, waiting for Anja’s response. She sighed and pulled a face.
“The other ones were better. Those ones are only going to get tangled in your hair if he kisses you.”
“If,” I echoed, dropping the earrings into the dish on my table. “Do you think he will?” My heart did a little pitter-patter just at the word ‘kiss’. How was I going to cope if Zach actually did kiss me?
“Depends.” Anja lay back on her bed, holding her phone up above her face. “I mean, he read you pretty well for the study date, right?”
“Right.” And I’d spent the whole week since being asked about it by people at school. Everyone who wasn’t there wanted to know the details, and everyone who was wanted to tell them. I was starting to feel like one half of St Stephen’s very own celebrity couple – and we hadn’t even had our first proper date. Yet. It didn’t start for another – I checked my phone – five minutes.
“Then I think he’ll kiss you if you give him the right signals. You know, hint that you want him to.”
“But what signals?” Threading the agreed-on earrings through my lobes, I scanned my jewellery rack for my favourite lucky necklace.
Anja laughed. “You’re asking me? You’re the one who keeps a running top ten list of first kisses.”
“Fictional first kisses.” I grabbed the necklace and put in on. “Although maybe that’s a good thing. I mean, this is all for the good of the book, right?”
“Sure,” Anja said drily. “And not even slightly because you’re crazy about the guy.”
“Maybe a little bit about that,” I admitted.
“Tilly, just be yourself,” Anja said. “You’ll be fine. And … maybe forget about the book for a night and just enjoy it. You can figure out how it works for the story later.”
“I know. I will.” I did want to enjoy my first ever proper date. And my potential first kiss, if it happened. But I knew Eva and Will would be at the back of my mind the whole time and I’d be scribbling down the details as soon as I got home.
My phone beeped, telling me it was officially date time. “I’ve got to go.”
“OK. Report in later, yeah?” Anja said. “And have fun!”
Her picture flickered off the screen before I could even reply.
“I’ll try,” I whispered, wishing away my nerves.
With one last check in the mirror to make sure my hair was sitting right and the silver top I’d chosen looked right with my new jeans, I shut my bedroom door behind me and headed down the stairs – just as the front doorbell rang out through the house.
Considering we never used the front door, our doorbell was outrageously noisy. (Or perhaps that was why we never used it.) A full peal of wedding bells echoed up the stairs towards me and I winced as I skipped down to answer it, wishing I’d remembered to tell Zach to use the back door.
Smiling brightly, I yanked open the door as the last strains of the wedding bells faded away and said, “Hi!”
Except it wasn’t Zach standing there on the doorstep.
“Well, that’s a lovely warm welcome. You must be Tilly, yes? You could teach my ass
istant a thing or two.” Edward Flowers, famed TV director, currently auditioning for the role of my new step-grandfather, flashed me a grin and stepped into the house.
“You must be looking for Bea,” I said, moving out of his way. At least I’d remembered not to call her ‘Gran’ in front of her boyfriend. She always hated that. And since Edward had to be at least fifteen years younger than her, I had a feeling she’d hate it even more than usual. “I think she’s still upstairs.”
“I can wait.” Edward was already halfway down the hall, looking around him with interest as he explored the house. “Beatrix is worth waiting for.”
“Well, that’s … good.” I watched him disappear through the kitchen door, and heard my mother and father greet him with the same level of bafflement that I felt.
“Was that Edward?” Gran appeared on the stairs, dressed in a grey and red shift dress, with bright red heels and a tiny grey hat perched on her head at an angle. “I invited him for a family dinner, so you can all get to know him.”
She didn’t add ‘before the engagement party’ but it was kind of implied, even after only a few dates. Gran always said that at her age, she didn’t have time to mess around.
Wait. Gran’s words finally registered in my brain. “Family dinner? Gran, I’m going out tonight.”
“You are? You didn’t say.”
“Yes, I did!” I definitely had because Gran had given me a solid ten minutes of advice on date etiquette. “I have a date, remember?”
Gran looked me up and down. “And you’re going like that? Couldn’t you at least manage a skirt?”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Gran, jeans are perfectly acceptable date-wear these days.” I hoped I sounded convincing. It wasn’t as if I actually had any idea of what I should be wearing. But jeans were comfortable. Familiar. And they were smart jeans and I had a nice top on.
Anyway, Anja had said it looked nice. Even if she had only a bit more experience at this than me.
“Besides, we’re only going to see a film, then grab some dinner.”
“The classic first date!” Gran clapped her hands. “How romantic. I remember your grandfather and I used to—” She cut herself off, just like she always did when she found herself accidentally talking about Grandpa Percy.
Grandpa, I’d decided, from reading between the lines over the years, must be the reason that Gran fell in love so often and had been married so many times. I just hadn’t figured out exactly what he’d done to make her this way.
“The point is, I won’t be here for dinner,” I said, bringing us back on topic.
Gran’s face fell. “Oh that is a shame. I was so looking forward to you getting to know Edward.”
“Maybe next time?” I suggested.
“Or maybe you could just come and have a drink with us now! I mean, you’re not going out immediately, are you?”
Right on cue, a peal of wedding bells rang out through the house again.
“That’ll be Zach now.” I tried to dart past Gran as she descended the stairs but despite her advanced age, she still beat me to the door.
Resigned, I watched her open it and turn on the Queen Bea charm.
“Zach!” she cried, holding out one delicate but wrinkled hand. “Tilly has told us all so much about you! It’s such a delight to meet such an elegant and handsome young man.” Zach, rather than looking as bemused by this display as I’d expected, returned Gran’s smile with a charming grin of his own. Then, taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it chivalrously.
For half a second, I actually wondered whether I should be worried about Gran stealing my potential boyfriend.
“And you must be the famous Beatrix Frost,” Zach said, still smiling. “I’ve heard lots about you too, of course.”
“You must come in and meet Tilly’s parents!” Gran declared. “And her brothers, of course – don’t worry, they’re too young to threaten you with bodily harm for hurting Tilly. Of course, I’m sure you wouldn’t dream of doing any such thing, a well-mannered boy like yourself.”
Gran’s words were light and playful but there was something behind them – a core of steel that Zach obviously heard, as his smile faltered, just for a second. Interesting. He was obviously bright enough to know that, even if Finn and Freddie were too little to look out for me, Gran had just made it very clear that she would – and to realize that she was perfectly capable of it, too.
Great. Because that wasn’t in any way embarrassing on a first date.
“And you can both meet Edward!” Gran swept Zach into the house and along the hall, gathering me up with her other arm as they passed and dragging us both towards the kitchen.
“Hi,” I said to Zach, leaning forward to see past Gran.
“Hey,” he replied. “You look nice.”
Gran snorted. “She looks beautiful. As always.”
“Of course,” Zach agreed hurriedly. Sensible boy. “And Edward is…?” he asked as Gran shoved us both through the door into the kitchen. Mum and Dad were over by the dining table, wrestling the twins into their high chairs.
“Edward Flowers,” the man himself boomed, stepping forwards with his hand outstretched. Zach, looking understandably taken aback, shook it. “Beatrix’s beau.” Edward pressed a kiss to Gran’s hair.
“Of course, sir, it’s … an honour to meet you.” Was Zach actually gushing? I guess Edward had another fan – but probably not for his work on Aurora. If Zach was anything like Rohan, it would be the sci-fi modern classic Yesterdays or the horror series When I Call that he loved.
“Always nice to meet a fan. And you are?” Edward asked.
“Zach Gates, sir. I’m…”
“Leaving very soon. With me,” I said, stepping between them. “We just popped in to say hi, but then we really must go. Don’t want to miss the start of the film.”
“But Zach hasn’t even been introduced to your parents yet!” Gran sounded outraged at this breach of etiquette.
“Mum, Dad – this is Zach. Zach, my parents. And my brothers.” I pointed to them each in turn and considered my work done. Mum and Dad waved, in between strapping the boys in. Finn and Freddie both seemed to sprout half a dozen extra limbs whenever you tried to contain them in a highchair or a buggy.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr and Mrs Frost,” Zach called across the kitchen.
Handing the boys a plate of chicken nuggets and chips each, Mum moved towards us, smiling warmly. “And you, Zach.”
“So, what film are you two off to see tonight?” Dad asked, joining us. He was trying to be subtle about it but I could see him sizing up Zach’s suitability. In fact, he was probably running equations in his head to see if it would all work out between us.
This was why I hadn’t wanted to bring Zach in to meet the family.
“Uh, Roads To Everywhere,” Zach said. “It’s had good reviews.”
Edward snorted loudly. “Well, reviews are almost meaningless these days, of course.”
“Apart from mine,” Gran added.
“Of course.” Edward took Gran’s hand and kissed it. “And then, only the good ones count.”
Suddenly, I could see why Gran and Edward got along so well. In the past, Gran had always preferred the ‘opposites attract’ form of romance – which mostly led to a lot of passionate arguments, then making up again. But she and Edward seemed very alike, in lots of ways. Maybe that meant this romance would last a little longer.
“Now, shall we set an extra place for Zach for dinner?” Gran moved towards the drawer with the place mats in.
I widened my eyes at Mum, asking silently for her help.
“I think Zach and Tilly were planning to eat after the film, Bea,” Mum said, exchanging a glance with Dad. They both looked more concerned than I’d expected about my date getting sabotaged – or maybe they were noticing the same thing about Edward and Gran that I had and worrying about the latest impending wedding on the horizon.
Just then, though, a chicken nugget came flying thro
ugh the air and whacked Zach on the head. Mum and Dad both rushed off to reprimand Freddie (it was always Freddie) while Zach tried to fix his hair.
I winced. “Sorry. They’re … well, toddlers.”
“He’ll bowl for England, that one!” Edward laughed, a loud, vibrating chuckle that filled the whole room.
“Are you sure you can’t just stay for the starter?” Gran said, and I shook my head. I wasn’t risking any more reasons for Zach to change his mind about going out with me. Knowing my family, flying poultry was the least of my worries.
“Sorry, Gran, we really do need to go,” I said, tugging Zach towards the door before she could object. “The film will be starting soon.”
“Let them go, Bea,” Edward said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You know what I always say about young love.”
“That it’s not nearly as much fun as older love?” Gran said with a wicked smile, and I covered my face in utter humiliation. There it was. The moment when Zach decided that staying away from me and my bonkers family was the only sensible move.
“That you have to let it blossom,” Edward corrected her, leading her to one side so she was no longer standing directly in our path to the front door. (I definitely wasn’t going to try to fight our way past toddler feeding time to get to the back door, under the circumstances.)
“Oh, go on then,” Gran sighed, waving us towards the door dramatically. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of true romance.”
“It was lovely to meet you,” Zach said as I grabbed my bag and dragged him out of the front door.
“I am so, so sorry,” I said, the moment it shut behind us.
Zach laughed. “Don’t be! They’re … colourful. And fun. And famous, which basically means they get to be as eccentric as they like.”
“And don’t they know it,” I grumbled. Then I took a breath. This was OK. Zach didn’t seem totally freaked out, even by the chicken nugget thing. We’d managed to avoid family dinner and we were going on an actual date. This might just work out after all.
