I stop as my eyes register a brown, square package on the top of the pile of post, addressed to me.
Why is it addressed to me?
I frown in curiosity as I lean my body against the hall radiator and pick up the package. Who is sending something to me?
As carefully as I can, I pull the paper off. A small diary lands in my lap. There is a note taped to the outside that reads OPEN ME, and my breathing quickens as I recognise the handwriting.
It’s from Jack.
Before I have a chance to order my thoughts, my hands flip the diary open and I start reading his untidy words, scrawled across the page in black ink.
Jack Lemon’s Diary
I’m scared of slugs. Terrified, in fact. I know it makes no sense.
I grew up in Brighton and moved to London when I was eighteen, with Bianca.
Our parents separated when we were kids, which made me and B very close.
My Tinder bio says: ‘I’m 60% water, and who doesn’t love a drink?’ I thought it was hilarious. Most disagreed.
I set up my own marketing company. It went bust.
I love dogs and my dream is to have a husky called Hugo.
Me and Lulu separated because she cheated on me.
Bianca once wrote a letter to me from Dumbledore. Twelve-year-old me believed it was real.
I’m named after my great-uncle who was an artist.
Doing the list made me appreciate life again, and everything I had been missing.
Meeting you made me appreciate everything else.
I watch Made in Chelsea religiously.
I have been told by multiple people that I am tone deaf.
I used to skateboard a lot as a kid. I also had a side parting and a fringe that covered one eye.
I have accidentally killed seven goldfish in my lifetime and I feel terrible about it.
I cried the first time I watched Love Actually.
I think Easter is the most underrated holiday.
I have been thinking of nothing but you since the wedding.
I swallowed a safety pin when I was in Year 9 and have never seen it since.
I had a huge crush on my Year 10 maths teacher, Mrs Gunner. She was in her forties.
When you came up to me in The Hook, I had just had a three-hour argument with Lulu. She found out I’d left to go to London.
You are like no one I have ever met.
My whole life changed the moment I met you.
My eyes fill with hot tears as I flick through the pages. There must be over a hundred notes in here, all randomly scrawled in different colours. Some bigger than others, and some barely legible. I hold the diary in my hands as my mind swims with confusion and a dawning feeling of elation. He cares. He’s written me a—
I jump as the door behind me rattles with great force when a hand raps on it.
Who is that?
I quickly blink my tears away and pull open the door. I almost drop the diary in shock as I see Jack standing in the doorway.
‘Look,’ he blurts angrily, ‘I’m sorry but I can’t just walk away. I need to talk to you. I need to—’
His words are lost as I drop the diary on the floor and throw my arms around him. Jack grabs my waist as my hands cling on to his face and I kiss him firmly. His light stubble brushes against my lips and he presses his body against mine and kisses me back. My insides explode with excitement as we grip on to each other as if we will never touch each other again. Finally, I let him go. The original anger on his face has gone, his eyes flit down to the diary and then back up at me.
‘Why are you here?’ I manage. ‘I thought you were away, with Bianca or . . .’
Jack smiles and shrugs. ‘I had more important things to do.’
I stare back at him, my heart racing, when suddenly a sharp smell fills my nose.
What? What is . . .?
Oh my God.
‘The cake!’ I scream, letting go of Jack and launching myself in the direction of the kitchen. I tear along the hallway, as a pungent smell of burning wafts out of the kitchen.
Oh my God. Oh, bloody hell.
I wrench the oven door open and blink as I am blinded by a fog of thick smoke. I pull the cake out, which is blackened and shrivelled. I gawp at it in dismay.
‘Oh,’ I whine, ‘look! I can’t bloody make a cake! I don’t know why, I just—’
My words disappear as Jack spins me round to face him and kisses me again.
Suddenly, the cake doesn’t seem so important any more.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
5TH DECEMBER: MY BIRTHDAY
‘Wow, I can’t believe you made that.’
‘Well done, darling! It looks fantastic.’
My cheeks redden as everyone gathers round me and ogles the sponge, glistening impressively on a large cake stand.
‘Thank you,’ I say in a small voice.
Well, I can hardly say ‘piece of cake’ now, can I?
Okay, full disclosure: I bought the cake. I mean, what was I supposed to do? I fully believe that the cake I made yesterday would have been perfect and fully edible, if Jack hadn’t got in the way.
My stomach flips as he flashes me a wink.
I mean, it was totally worth it. Obviously.
Although he’d better not give me away. He did promise he wouldn’t.
I make the stupid decision to catch Amy’s eye. She is raising her eyebrows at me knowingly. I look away quickly.
She totally knows. I mean, who am I kidding? This cake has seven different kinds of fruit on it. I didn’t even realise seven different kinds of fruit existed.
‘Well!’ Mum says, springing to her feet. ‘I am very impressed, darling. We will sing you Happy Birthday soon. Would anyone like a nice cup of tea?’
Everyone responds politely and Mum bustles back out of the living room, carrying the cake carefully.
‘Okay,’ Amy grins, ‘where is the list, Georgie?’
I feel a swell of excitement as I pull it out of my bag and spread it out on the coffee table, for everyone to see. A wave of pride sweeps over me as my eyes scan the list.
‘I still cannot believe you completed everything,’ Dad says quietly, leaning over my shoulder to look down the list.
I beam at him, pride fluttering beneath my skin.
If you’d told me at the beginning of this year that I was going to complete all of these things, I would never have believed you. I hated doing anything outside my comfort zone, I even struggled with things that were inside my comfort zone. I never challenged myself or did anything out of the ordinary. I just existed.
Amy passes me a pen and I take it off her happily.
‘There you are, champ,’ Dad says, clapping me on the shoulder as he gets to his feet, ‘you can tick the last thing off your list!’
He leaves the room and Amy shoots me a look.
‘I know you didn’t make that cake,’ she says out of the corner of her mouth.
I lift my chin in the air.
‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ I say airily, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
Jack sinks into the sofa next to me and takes my hand, and I notice a look pass between Amy and Tamal.
‘So, Jack,’ Tamal says, readjusting himself in the armchair next to Amy, ‘has Georgie told you how successful The Miller Run was?’
I feel my face flush, like it does every time someone brings this up.
‘No,’ Jack says, and I turn my head to look at him, ‘but Bianca did.’
‘Bianca?’ I blurt, baffled.
Why was she talking about it?
‘Yeah,’ Jack says, ‘she thought it was great. She said the whole branding was brilliant. Didn’t she tell you that?’
‘Well,’ I mumble, ‘yeah, but I didn’t think she meant it.’
She said that to Jack?
Jack laughs. ‘Of course she did!’ he says. ‘You know Bianca never says anything she doesn’t mean.’
Well, I guess that’s true.
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br /> ‘She also donated a shedload of money,’ Jack adds, ‘when you turned her job offer down. She said she wanted to do something for her karma, because of how badly she treated you.’
‘Really?’ I say quietly.
‘Yeah,’ Jack nods, ‘she’s like that. She never means to hurt anyone. Her heart is in the right place.’
I open my mouth to respond when all the lights click off and we are plunged into darkness while Mum juggles a box of matches and attempts to light the candles on the cake with Dad’s help.
The tiny flames dance as my body shrivels in dread at the prospect of the dreaded song.
Urgh. If there is one thing I cannot bear (who am I kidding? There are many, many things I cannot bear) it is people singing Happy Birthday to me. I mean, for one, the song lasts about four years. Nobody can sing the high notes, and the whole thing is so dreadfully awkward.
I hear Mum take in a deep breath and I force an unnatural smile on to my face.
‘Haaaaaaaaaaaaappy birthday to you,’ she begins, and slowly everyone joins in.
I cringe inwardly, smiling awkwardly like I’m waiting for my prom photo to be taken.
‘Happy birthday to Georgie!’ Mum sings in her best soprano.
Oh. Someone has been watching Songs of Praise.
‘Happy birthday to you!’ The entire living room sings in unison, and I smile at them gratefully.
Amy grins at me. ‘Make a wish, then!’ she says, her face bright.
I look around the room and shut my eyes tight, the wish forming in my mind.
The only wish I have ever had.
The wish that has strayed over the past year and, at times, almost vanished entirely:
I wish that me and Amy can be happy for ever.
I blow out the candles and open my eyes.
Amy’s eyes are shining brightly at me and my heart swells as I know that my wish, swirling around in the smoke from my birthday candles, is coming true.
Georgie’s List
Have a vindaloo on Brick Lane.
Take a Salsa class.
Do a skydive.
Go on a Tinder date.
Cycle around Hyde Park.
Run 10k.
Make the perfect Victoria sponge.
Go skinny-dipping in the sea.
Try skateboarding at Southbank.
Show Bianca your designs!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I need to start by thanking my super agent, Sarah Manning, who believed in me right from the start, championed me endlessly and made all of this possible. An enormous thank you also goes to my editor/literary wizard Jess Whitlum-Cooper, who saw things in the book that I would never have seen and loved Georgia as much as I do.
Thank you to my publicist Phoebe Swinburn and everyone at Headline for all the amazing things you do.
Thank you to my cheerleaders: Andrew and Adam, Gemma and Ziggie, Mel, Jamie, Kristie, Georgina and Jodie.
Thank you to Jess and Varsha from the MS Society for all of your help.
Thank you to Ari, for repeatedly saying to me ‘You should write a book’ since we were eleven, and for always, always believing in me.
Thank you to Laura, James and Anna for constantly allowing me to take over the living room and teaching me how to think.
Thank you to Catherine and Maynie, for always laughing at my jokes and inspiring me endlessly.
Thank you to my favourite bookworms: Kiera, Shannon, Lucy, Natalie, Evangeline, Silke and Vivien.
Thank you to my girls for their infinite support; Claire, Lib, Kate, Hayley, Becca, Georgia, Rosie, Jess, Lauren and Alice.
Thank you to everyone who has read snippets over the years and spurred me on: Ciara, Emily, Cheri, Emma, Beanie, Catherine, Holly, Ami, John-Webb, Annie, Luke, Lydia and Alex.
Thank you to my grandparents, for always sparking my imagination.
And finally, thank you to my family for everything you’ve always done for me. To my parents for teaching me how to laugh at myself, to my brothers Tom and Dominic for their undying belief in me and to Elle, for teaching me how to be a sister.
The List That Changed My Life Page 26
