Page 73 of The Love of Our Lives
And oh god, I feel it, that pull I’ve always had.
‘How have you been?’ he says.
‘Good.’ I smile, heart still racing. ‘And you?’
‘Better, now you’re here.’
I take a breath.
‘What have you been up to lately?’ he says.
‘I went skiing up north recently, actually.’
His face cracks into a grin. ‘You actually did it? I tried so many times to get you away the past few years. Do you remember that one time you made it out to Zermatt for a couple of days?’
And the funny thing is, I sort of do – vague images of a luxurious wood and glass chalet, Fran, Toby, Simon and me looking out at a snow-covered world, champagne in hand.
‘You made us all s’mores on the hob,’ I say, laughing at the image.
I was really happy. And then work just started getting busier and busier, and I cancelled the ski trip two years in a row, while the others went on without me. I’d travel a lot internationally,get all the stamps in my passport, but only ever actually see the inside of hotel rooms. I lost sight of things.
I lost sight of us.
And the way he’s looking at me right now, with this hope in his eyes, steals my breath.
‘Hey,’ he says quietly, and reaches for my arm, ‘how about we go have a day out together tomorrow? Just you and me.’
I pause. ‘Won’t we have wedding stuff to do? I’m sure Fran and Toby will probably want me to help out with things.’
He shakes his head. ‘I’ve already cleared it with them.’
Glancing over at the bar, I see Toby looking back and he gives me a big thumbs up. Fran looks less convinced beside him, but then she smiles at me, nods.
‘Please say yes,’ Simon says, and I turn back to him, ‘I’ve got something to show you.’
Even though an image of Adam flashes across my mind, there’s a strange pull happening here too, this growing feeling like everything in Emily’s life comes back to this guy right here – this incredibly handsome man, asking for a simple day with her.
And I know I have to explore this.
‘All right,’ I say eventually and his shoulders relax slightly. His whole face comes alive.
‘Brilliant,’ he says, just as Fran’s parents walk over. My aunt starts hugging me, and then my uncle, and suddenly I’m enveloped in warmth and love, and a distinct feeling like I’m back where I belong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The next morning I’m sitting in the lobby of the hotel Toby put me in. It’s all turquoise velvet and polished marble, and as I sit sipping the most delicious Turkish coffee, I think about how incredibly well I slept on the fluffiest of beds, in the most sumptuous of suites – thank you, Toby. The lunch went on for the whole afternoon, a lavish feast put on by Fran’s parents – antipasti, pasta course, sorbetto, meat course, and what felt like a never-ending stream of desserts at the end. And then as the older generations drifted away, the four of us eventually tumbled into a little bar we used to frequent along the road. Fran even simmered a bit about the whole thing with Simon; actually got up and did some terrible karaoke – Elton John’sTiny Dancer, of course – and we ate greasy burgers and drank cheap pints (two max for me after the skiing incident). I’ve realised it’s not all glitz and glamour down here; it’s solid and real and delightfully grubby too. It was a whole host of experiences and events and life; a life that worked really well once, and maybe could again for Emily, at the end.
A movement at the doorway. I watch as the top-hatted doorman opens it with a flourish, and Simon walks confidently in. He’s more casual today in jeans, trainers and a lightweight navy jacket. But somehow he still looks like a million dollars, and I know that every inch of his outfit probably cost more than my rent each month. But then he looks at me in this way that puts me absolutely at ease, and I wonder for the hundredth time what he has to show me today. Coming to a stop in front of me, he holds his hand out.
‘Ready?’
I smile. ‘Totally.’
A few minutes later and we’re standing on the sunny street outside. The buildings are grand around here, with Hyde Park right ahead of us and the luxury hotel behind, and I can’t help but feel stupidly excited by it all.
‘You have to tell me now,’ I say, ‘what’s this thing you want to show me?’
Simon smiles mischievously, glances at something over to the left. ‘You’ll see,’ he says, ‘in exactly one second.’
