Page 96 of The Lucky Escape

I. LOVED. HIM!

‘Are you staying, or coming with?’ I asked Freddie, my hands trembling but my nerve steady. She was right. She was absolutely, totally right.

‘Oh, I’m definitely coming with,’ she replied, smiling. ‘I want to see this!’

46

We started out in the direction of Patrick’s, picking up pace with every street sign we passed.

‘I’ve never been inside his house, you know,’ I told her, counting up the street numbers as we passed each house.

‘Who hasn’t been to their boyfriend’s house?’ said Freddie, pushing into a light jog.

Her jog made me run faster, so that we started in a trot and then broke out into a canter so fast that we actually went past number 34b, where he lived, and had to backtrack by half a dozen houses when I realized.

‘Okay,’ I said, outside of the gate to the entrance of his basement flat. ‘How do I look?’

‘Urm, sort of sweaty,’ Freddie said, pushing hair from my face.

‘Urgh. How’s my breath? I always get bad breath after I’ve been emotional.’

‘I can help with that,’ she said, holding up a hand as if to signify that I should hold that thought, and she rifled through the pockets of the hoodie tied around her waist.

She gave me a breath mint and I said, ‘So, are you following me to his door, or …?’

‘Just go!’ she said, and before I knew it I was ringing his bell, resisting the urge to peer through his front bay window in case we locked eyes through the glass and then he decided not to let me in.

It opened.

‘Patrick,’ I said, and then I didn’t say anything because between Freddie’s call to arms in my kitchen and being stood there in front of him maybe ten minutes had passed, and in that ten minutes I hadn’t really thought beyond getting to his place.

‘Hi,’ he said, looking around me and noticing Freddie up on the pavement. ‘Hey, Freddie,’ he said, confusion leaking from his voice.

‘I messed up,’ I said. ‘And I have come to say sorry. And also, depending on how that apology goes, I’ve also come to say … I got scared. But. Basically. Well. The thing is …’

‘Say it!’ cried Freddie.

‘I love you,’ I said. ‘I love you! There. God, that feels really good. Patrick, I love you, and I am sorry that I pushed you away. You are not my past. You’re YOU! And I love you for it!’

I was breathing heavily, but couldn’t tell if it was from the run or the rush of emotion.

Suddenly, my eyes adjusted and I could see cardboard boxes just over his shoulder. I realized he was holding packing tape in his hands. He looked down at his hands too, understanding that I was piecing things together, and looked embarrassed.

‘Are you … moving?’ I said.

He shook his head.

‘Not exactly.’ He stepped back so I could see into his hallway, and added, ‘Do you want to come in?’

I nodded. I wasveryaware that I’d declared my undying love, and he hadn’t said it back. He hadn’t really said anything.

‘Freddie,’ he called to her. ‘Do you want to come in?’

Freddie skipped down the steps to join us. She looked from me, to him, to the boxes, and knew better than to ask any questions.

Patrick fussed about getting us all a glass of water, which we gulped down like we were wise men wandering a desert and hadn’t seen H2O in days.

‘Can I go and look at your books?’ Freddie said, once she was done, and I wanted to squeeze her until her head popped off for her emotional insight, knowing it was time to give Patrick and me a minute alone.

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