Page 83 of The One Plus One
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Actually, I realized something today. The last few days have been the first time I can remember where I just got to be with them. Not working, not running around doing housework or shopping or trying to catch up on all the stuff. It’s been nice just hanging out with them, if that doesn’t sound daft.’
‘It doesn’t.’
‘And Nicky’s sleeping. He never sleeps. I’m not sure what you did for him, but he seems…’
‘Oh, we just redressed the balance a little.’
Jess raised her glass. ‘Then one nice thing happened on your birthday – you cheered my boy up.’
‘That was yesterday.’
She thought for a moment. ‘You didn’t vomit once.’
‘Okay. Stop now.’
She could no longer see him properly as they were side by side on the bench but, whether it was just the food, or perhaps the four pints of beer on top of the cocktail, or perhaps even just not having to look her in the eye, Mr Nicholls’s whole body had finally relaxed. He leant back, his long legs stretched out under the table. For some time now one of them had been resting againsthers. She had thought fleetingly that she should move it, and hadn’t, and now she couldn’t without it looking as if she was making a point. She felt it, an electric presence, against her bare leg.
She quite liked it.
Because something had happened somewhere between the pie and chips and the last round, and it wasn’t just drink, or being away from everything, or the fact that they were finally so close to their destination. Jess wasn’t quite sure what it was. She wanted Mr Nicholls not to feel angry and hopeless. She wanted to see that big sleepy grin of his, the one that seemed to defuse all the suppressed anger so you could see what he might have been like if all the crap hadn’t happened to him. And when he did unleash one of those smiles it was so joyful and unexpected that she couldn’t help a huge, involuntary grin spreading in answer across her own face. And so they sat, talking quietly, listening to the hum of the television at the bar, the murmured conversation, and periodically grinning like a pair of idiots.
‘You know, I’ve never met anyone like you,’ he said.
He was gazing at the table, apparently deep in thought. Jess had been about to make a joke about cleaners and baristas and staff but instead she just felt this great lurch in the pit of her belly and found herself picturing the taut V of his bare torso in the shower and wondering what it would be like to sleep with him.
The shock of this thought was so great that she nearly said it out loud.I think it would be quite nice to have sex with Mr Nicholls. She looked away and gulped the remaininghalf-glass of wine, feeling the burn of complaint as it went down.
Mr Nicholls was looking at her. ‘Don’t take offence. I meant it in a good way.’
‘I’m not taking offence.’ Her ears had gone pink.
‘You’re just the most positive person I’ve ever met. You’re practical. You fix stuff. You never seem to feel sorry for yourself. Every obstacle that comes your way, you just scramble over it.’
‘Ripping my trousers and falling over in the process.’
‘But you keep going.’
‘When someone helps me.’
‘Okay. This simile is becoming confusing.’ He took a swig of his beer. ‘I just…wanted to tell you. I know it’s nearly over. But I’ve enjoyed this trip. More than I expected to.’
It was out before she knew what she was saying. ‘Yeah. Me too.’
They sat. He was gazing at her leg. She wondered if he was thinking what she was thinking.
‘Do you know something, Jess?’
‘What?’
‘You’ve stopped fidgeting.’
They looked up at each other and a question passed silently between them. She wanted to look away but she couldn’t. Mr Nicholls had just been a means of moving forward out of an impossible mess. Now all Jess could see were his big dark eyes, the way his hair left his forehead in an impossibly thick, lush line. The hypnotic way his top lip sculpted itself into a tiny cradle.
You need to get back on the horse.
He looked away first.
‘Whoa! Look at the time. It’s late. We should really get some sleep. You said we had to get up early.’ His voice was just a bit too loud. ‘Yup. Nearly eleven already. I think I calculated that we need to leave here by seven to make it there for midday. Does that sound right to you?’
