Hello stranger, p.19
Hello, Stranger, page 19
‘A little bit,’ I joke and then I sit up, swinging my legs off the sofa and gingerly standing up, Jamie helping me up the stairs as you would someone who’s sprained an ankle. When we get to our room, I just about manage to brush my teeth – still feeling faint – and then take off my clothes and put on a big baggy T-shirt and climb into bed. Jamie strips down to his boxers and joins me, sitting up against the headboard with his laptop on his knee.
‘Sleep tight. I hope you feel better in the morning. If you need anything, just ask, OK?’
I look up at him, wondering what I did to deserve someone so perfect.
‘Thank you. And happy new year. I promise the rest of the year will be better than this.’
He bends down and kisses me on my forehead. ‘I have no doubt about that. Happy new year.’
Jamie
When I wake up, I leave Lucy asleep in bed and go to the supermarket to get a few things to cheer her up. Of course I wouldn’t wish her ill, but I actually like looking after her. She’s so independent, it’s nice to feel she needs me sometimes.
I get the food bits first – croissants and fry-up ingredients for breakfast, a variety of treats in case she’s got that ‘after being sick hunger’ thing you sometimes get – plus some fizzy drinks to settle her stomach.
Then I go to the home decoration aisles, deciding it’s time to turn the spare room into a writing room for Lucy. I know she’s too proud to ever suggest it, but what better time than New Year for her to start taking her writing seriously – and, hopefully, a proper space will help her to do that. I’ve already got my old desk to put up in there (the only item of furniture I held on to) so I search for bits to make it cosier – a plant, a candle, some cushions and a throw for a little armchair she’s got that I can put in the corner (in case she sometimes prefers to write in comfort than at a desk). I also get her some notebooks and a new pen, and a bunch of flowers because, well, every room looks better with a vase of flowers in it. Finally, I buy a pin board so she has somewhere to put up her ideas and she’s got a great print at home – this inspirational quote about following your dreams but written in an untrite way – so that can go up in there too. I’m really excited about surprising her. It’ll be just my luck that she’s all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when I get home and I won’t get the chance.
Luckily, when I do get home, she’s still asleep. I put all the things I’ve bought into the little bedroom and then close the door and go back into our room, standing there and watching her for a few minutes before she starts to stir.
‘What time is it?’ she asks, her words a little slurred.
‘It’s eleven. Would you like some breakfast? I got croissants and fry-up stuff, so your choice. Or I can just do toast if you don’t feel up to anything more.’
‘You’ve been out?’
‘Well, I know I’m always starving the day after I’ve been sick, so I wanted to get a few nice bits in just in case.’
‘You’re a legend. A croissant would be amazing, thanks.’
‘Nutella?’
‘Of course.’
‘Coming right up.’
I go downstairs to make her breakfast and then put it on a tray with a single flower from the bunch I bought to go in her room and take it up.
‘Breakfast in bed, madam,’ I say, handing her the tray.
‘A flower too?’
‘There’s a whole bunch downstairs, by the way, not just the one. I figured flowers always cheer a girl up, don’t they?’
‘I’m going to ignore my slightly feminist objections to your assumption because yes, they do cheer me up.’
‘Sorry, what an awful chauvinist I am.’
‘You’re forgiven.’ She starts stuffing her face with the croissant. ‘Perfect amount of Nutella. Well done.’
‘Glad to have passed the test.’
‘I’m sorry it’s been such a shit New Year. I’d love to say I feel well enough to do something together today, but I think it’s going to be another day on the sofa for me. Feel free to go out and leave me to it.’
‘It’s OK. I might do a few bits around the house. Start to put up some shelves and stuff,’ I say, preparing my cover story for the banging.
‘OK, but only if you want to. I’m happy to help you when I feel better.’
‘It’s fine. I’m better doing DIY on my own, what with being so anal about accuracy and stuff.’
‘Yeah, I remember the interesting “debate” we had about the frames.’
I laugh and go downstairs to set Lucy up a comfy haven on the sofa so that I can keep her away from the spare room then nip out to the shed to get my toolbox and sneak it up. When I go back into our room, Lucy has finished her croissant and is pulling on some joggers.
‘I’ve set up the sofa for you. I haven’t got a bell, but if you need anything just buzz my phone and your servant will appear.’
Lucy smiles, but then her eyes turn serious. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too. Now go on. Go and get yourself settled.’
She gives me a kiss on the cheek and heads downstairs. Once I can hear that she’s installed on the sofa with the TV on, I find the pieces of my old desk. After a lot of sweating and a fair bit of swearing, I manage to put it back together and then carry in Lucy’s little armchair, complete with new cushions and throw, and put up her large print and new notice board on the wall, struggling to get the buggers straight. Then I place the plant and the candle I bought on the windowsill and put the notebook and the pen on the desk. It’s looking pretty good but there’s something missing. To make it really inviting, it needs a rug.
Creeping downstairs, I’m pleased to see that Lucy is asleep again so I rush out (leaving a note to say I just needed to go and grab something for work from Matt’s) and pop out to get a little rug. There’s not a great deal of choice, but I find one with brightly coloured dots that’s in stock in Argos so I grab that and hurry home. I check the coast is clear first then grab the rug from the car and bundle it upstairs, my heart racing when it sounds like Lucy’s stirring as I’m only halfway up the stairs. But, after a sigh and what sounds like Lucy turning over, all is quiet again – so I take the rug into her new writing room and lay it out on the floor. It’s exactly the finishing touch it needed and I’m pretty chuffed with myself as I survey the finished project. Finally, I place the vase of flowers on the desk and it’s done.
I go back downstairs, now desperate for Lucy to wake up so I can show her the surprise, but she’s still fast asleep, so I take up residence at the end of the sofa by her feet. Roughly ten minutes pass before she starts to rouse, moaning first and then slowly opening her eyes.
‘Hey you. What are you doing down here?’
‘I just came to check you were still breathing.’
She stretches. ‘Hopefully I’m not speaking too soon but I actually feel loads better. I think that sleep, and my croissant of course, were exactly what I needed.’
‘Good. Do you want anything else? I could make you some lunch?’
She stands up. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’
We make bacon sandwiches and eat them at the dining table, the winter sunshine pouring through the patio doors.
‘I’m not sure I’ll ever get over this view,’ Lucy says, sandwich raised to her mouth.
‘No, it is pretty spectacular.’ I take in the trees, the little stream trickling along.
‘I’m so glad we decided to sell my house and go for this place.’
‘Me too.’
‘I mean, I still want to travel loads, but this place definitely makes me want to be home more often, you know?’
‘Isn’t that the perfect combination? When you travel to amazing places but are always happy to come home?’
‘Yeah, I guess it is.’
We finish our sandwiches and push our plates away. ‘How are you feeling now?’
‘Almost as good as new.’
‘Good. Then I want to show you something.’
I stand up and hold out my hand. Lucy takes it, albeit with a sceptical look on her face. ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘You’ll see.’ I lead her through the lounge and up the stairs, pausing when we reach the door of the spare room. ‘So, I figured that every writer needs a writing room.’
I open the door and gesture for Lucy to go in first, which she does. When she turns back to look at me, there are tears in her eyes, and I feel that huge rush of contentment you get when you’ve made someone else happy.
‘I can’t believe you did this. Did you do it all whilst I was asleep?’
I nod.
‘And you got me all this stuff?’ She starts picking up all the individual items in turn.
‘Well, you can’t have a writing room without stationery.’
‘Or a pot plant or a candle, of course.’
‘They seem like essential writerly items.’
Lucy smiles.
‘And I put the chair there in case sometimes you need a bit more comfort to produce your masterpiece.’
Lucy looks at the chair and then looks back at me. ‘Come here.’
I walk towards her and she puts her arms around my neck and kisses me. And then it becomes more intense and somehow we end up naked. And afterwards, we just lie there on the new spotty rug, tangled up in each other’s limbs.
‘You know, I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you,’ I say to the top of Lucy’s head.
‘Me neither,’ she says, just quietly, and it makes me so happy that I know, with a certainty I don’t think I’ve felt about anything else in my life, that this is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. And I wonder if I should just tell her, propose whilst we lie here on the rug in her new writing room, but as much as I want to ask her right now, before anything changes, I want to do it properly. She deserves the best, most romantic proposal there is. Which now just poses the problem: how can I give her that?
Lucy
It’s weird, but having a writing room really does make a huge difference to my productivity. After averaging about a hundred words a month for the past couple of years, I’m now pumping out pages like Jilly Cooper. I look at my pot plant and smile, then check the time. I’m due to meet Mia in about half an hour. She’s going to try on wedding dresses and, touchingly, she’s invited me to go with her. But I’m desperate to finish this chapter before I go, the scene where the two protagonists finally get together after all the obstacles that have been stopping them. I type as if my life depends on it, then rush out the door with minutes to go.
We’re due to meet at The White Room and, when I get there, Mia is standing outside waiting for me. After a hug, I follow her in. It’s a small shop – really cosy – and the staff are warm and friendly.
‘Welcome back, Mia. We’ve got all your choices ready for you. Do you both want a drink first? Bubbles?’
‘That’d be lovely,’ Mia says. ‘This is my friend, Lucy.’
‘Nice to meet you, Lucy. She’s been stuck on these four dresses for a while – haven’t you, Mia? – so hopefully you might be able to help her decide.’
‘I’ll try my best,’ I say, suddenly feeling the pressure.
‘You’re definitely the most stylish person I know, so I trust your judgement,’ Mia says, putting her hand on my arm.
I wave away her compliment and then the shop assistant, Zoe, goes off to get us a glass of bubbly. She brings our drinks out on a tray, then we follow her through to a walk-in changing room where I sit on the sofa while Mia goes off with Zoe behind the curtain.
‘Now, I want total honesty,’ Mia calls through. ‘No being polite.’
‘Ask Jamie. I don’t really do being polite.’
I hear Mia laughing behind the curtain. ‘Good.’
I sip my champagne while Zoe helps Mia into her dress. Then, she steps out. And she looks so beautiful it unexpectedly makes me want to cry. The dress is simple, elegant, made of white lace, thin shoulder straps and a V-neckline. It accentuates every part of Mia’s lovely figure.
‘It’s beautiful.’ My voice breaks and I feel slightly ridiculous. I haven’t even known Mia long and yet it feels like such an intimate moment, and I’m so happy for her. She and Matt are one of those couples who seem made for each other.
‘You’re not just saying that?’
I shake my head. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘Well, wait until you see the others before you make your mind up.’
‘OK, but I can’t see how anything is going to compete with that one.’
The corners of Mia’s mouth turn up and I wonder if it’s her frontrunner too, but she doesn’t say anything, heading back behind the curtain to change into the next dress.
She shows me the others one by one, and they’re stunning too – she’d look great in anything – but for me nothing compares to the first dress.
Once she’s tried them all on, Zoe tops up our drinks and then leaves us to relax on the sofa and discuss.
‘You sure about dress number one?’
‘Absolutely. No question.’
‘Truth be told it was my favourite too, so I’m really glad you’ve confirmed it for me.’
‘I’m so happy for you. Matt is going to be blown away when he sees you.’
Mia smiles. ‘I hope so. We’re definitely at the “very comfortable” stage of our relationship. Neither of us even bothers to close the bathroom door any more, and there’s something lovely about that type of intimacy, but I just hope it means we don’t stop fancying each other, you know?’
I nod, thinking back to Jamie holding my hair as I flooded the toilet bowl with vomit.
‘So how about you and Jamie? How’s it been living together?’ she asks.
‘It’s been amazing. I keep waiting for the hitch, the arguments, keep thinking I’m going to discover he’s got some awful secret, but he’s just so lovely.’
Mia nods, her mouth full of champagne.
‘I was poorly the other day and he looked after me so well,’ I continue. ‘No one’s ever taken care of me like that. And then he surprised me by turning the little bedroom into a writing room. He’d thought of every detail. I couldn’t believe it.’
‘Oh, you’ve definitely got a good one there, Luce. He’s always been my favourite of Matt’s friends by far. Trust me, I’ve searched and there are no secret flaws.’
‘I’m not used to it, being treated so well, you know?’
‘It’s easy to think it’s too good to be true, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly. That’s exactly it. How can I have got so lucky?’
‘Well, you’re stunning and fun and lovely. Of course Jamie was going to end up with someone like you.’
‘Thank you. But I’m not sure that’s true.’
‘It is. And I’m glad he’s found you. He’s been through a lot. And he’s always wanted a family.’ She pauses. ‘Somebody to love, I mean.’
From the way she so quickly backtracks, I can tell she knows my ‘dirty’ secret and I can’t help wondering what she thinks about it.
‘So he told you about the kids thing then?’
‘Matt might’ve mentioned it.’
‘Lucy, the freak.’
Mia shakes her head vehemently. ‘Not at all. There’s nothing wrong with not wanting children. Trust me, the friends I have who’ve got kids mostly look like crap and are always moaning about the lack of “me time”.’
I force a smile but I know Mia’s only trying to make me feel better. ‘Bet you want them though, don’t you?’
She gives me a sympathetic look and nods.
‘Sometimes I worry Jamie’s giving up something he’s always wanted for me.’
Mia takes a deep breath. ‘It’s how I knew how much he loved you.’
Her words hang between us, making me feel sick. I finish my drink and put it on the side. ‘Actually, I forgot. I promised I’d pick my niece and nephew up from school. I better go.’
Mia gives me this look and I know that she can tell I’m lying. ‘Luce, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing.’
I shake my head. ‘You didn’t. I just need to go, otherwise there’ll be two kids crying at the school gates and I’ll be the world’s worst aunty. Thank you for inviting me. The dress is perfect.’
‘Thanks.’ Mia gives me a sad smile and I leave hurriedly, Zoe the sales assistant giving me an odd look as I do.
On the way back to the car, I call Amy. As soon as she answers, I can’t stop the tears from coming, the sound of her voice causing something in me to unblock.
‘Luce, what is it, lovely? Why are you crying?’
I can’t speak, tears falling with every step I take along the pavement.
‘It’s not Mum or Dad, is it?’
I shake my head but then realize that she can’t see me. ‘No, it’s nothing like that,’ I manage to splutter.
‘So what is it, darling? Tell me.’
I walk past a bench, stop, turn around and go back to it, sitting down. ‘I can’t do it.’
‘Do what?’
‘Can’t ruin Jamie’s life.’
I can hear Amy sigh on the other end of the line. ‘That’s not what you’re doing. He loves you.’
‘I know he does. That’s why I have to end it.’
Amy doesn’t respond and I know that she agrees with me, even though she’d never say it.
‘I’m just scared. What if I never find anyone who loves me like he does?’
‘You will.’
‘Look, I have to go. If I don’t do it now, I never will. I’ll call you tomorrow, OK? I love you.’
‘Love you too, Sis. You will be OK, I promise.’
‘Thanks.’
I put the phone down, wipe my face with my sleeve and head back to the car.
Jamie
I’ve suddenly realized that choosing an engagement ring is actually really hard. I borrowed one of Lucy’s rings from her jewellery box to get an idea of size, feeling really clever at my ingenious plan, until I arrived at the jeweller’s and realized there’s about a thousand different designs of engagement ring and I have no idea which one Lucy would go for as we’ve never had the engagement discussion. I should’ve waited until we’d walked past a few windows and she’d pointed some out, a subtle hint for me to get my act into gear. But instead I’m jumping on this crazy idea of mine that I have to make her my fiancée, right now. It can’t wait.
