Page 63 of Date with Destiny

I take each of them in: my friends, my family, two exes – oh, and Shawn – all here tonight, wanting to take drugs.

I take a deep breath. ‘OK,’ I say at last. ‘Let’s do it.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Nothing happens for ages, and then it does.

‘Have the walls always been this bright?’ I squint in confusion at the intensity of the surface in front of me. I give it a stroke. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t so, like,neonearlier?’ I pause. ‘Can the colour white actuallybeneon?’ Everyone looks blank so I add, ‘Maybe someone painted it since we arrived?’

The women all lean closer to inspect it, while Shawn, Zach, Mikey and Daniel all glance at each other, amused.

‘Is this mecoming up?’ I ask anxiously and they nod.

‘It’ll be OK,’ Daniel says nicely and I study his lovely face. He’s so handsome.

‘It really will,’ adds Mikey, and now I’m looking athislovely face. They’re both so gorgeous, I don’t know what to do with myself.

Having just stroked the wall, I resist an impulse to stroke both their faces. But I feel somehow sure that if I could touch them, I’d know which of them is my soulmate.

‘Ooh, this is weird,’ says Sonali, ‘My bottom half is an octopus.’

‘Lucky!’ Myfanwy complains. ‘So far, nothing’s really happening for me. Should I take more?’ She looks to Mikey, our resident expert, for an answer but Shawn interjects.

‘Not a good idea, babe,’ he shakes his head with authority and, even through the descending haze, I can see Myfanwy wants to laugh at his pomposity.

‘I feel all giggly,’ Toni says, nuzzling into Shawn. He smiles widely and encircles her with his arm.

‘It’s happening. I think I need to go for a walk,’ Daniel announces, standing up suddenly. ‘Ginny, is there any chance you want to come with me?’

‘Sure,’ I find myself saying, floating up to meet his hands, even though all I want to do is lie there staring at this cool neon white wall.

We wander over to the other side of the bar, where Daniel stares intently at a spot above my head. I wonder what he’s seeing.

‘This is weird,’ he mutters, now staring at his own hands.

‘But nice,’ I either say or think. I’m not really sure my mouth is still attached to the rest of my body.

‘So,’ he takes a huge deep breath. ‘Maybe this isn’t the best time to talk; I know we’re both high, but I’ve wanted to see you so badly.’ He pauses and his eyes are saucers. And then teacups. And then saucers again. ‘I want to talk to you about what happened and why and what next.’

Thatwhat next.Even floating above the conversation, Ifeel those two words hard. Because, even in this strange, disconnected state, I’m pretty surewhat nextmeans:are we getting back together?

I try to focus, I try to pull myself back from the weird high, and focus on the issue. I need to answer these three questions for myself:

Do I want my life to be with Daniel?

Can I forgive him for what happened?

Can I ever trust him again?

If the answer is yes to all of them, then I need to get over any remaining pride that might be holding me back and give things another shot. Because we were happy, weren’t we?

Question four: Were we really happy?

Daniel is still speaking. ‘I need you to know that I really am sorry. You have no idea how much the guilt has been eating away at me over what I did.’ He scuffs his shoes, kicking them against the floor. ‘It’s been pointed out to me over and over what a fucking twat I’ve been. Not just with the way I ended things, but the way I’ve been since.’ He pauses. ‘Andthe way I was before. You did everything for me, you were always so kind and conciliatory. I was selfish, everything was always on my terms. I can see now it was always about what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go.’ He swallows hard and I can see he is holding back emotion. ‘But I’m changing, or Iwantto change, at least. I can see what kind of man I was – am – and I want to be better.’ He takes my hand and I watch in wonder because it doesn’t look anything like my hand. I consider that expression – when you know somethinglike the back of your hand – and realize I don’t know the back or the front of my hand at all. For that matter, which even is the front of your hand and which is the back?

Daniel’s voice breaks through my reverie. ‘I want to change, Gin, and I want…’ He trails off, trying to look at me, but I’m floating above myself.

Were we really happy? That fourth question keeps coming back to me. And now the other three don’t seem to matter that much.

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