Page 37 of The Love of Our Lives
‘So . . . Charlie was saying she shouldn’t really be drinking,’ I say. ‘Is she pregnant?’
He looks across at me. ‘Trying, for quite a while now.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry; is she OK?’
‘She’s all right, I think. You can see how incredibly upbeat they are about everything.’
‘I know but still, it must be hard.’
It’s not really something I’d ever considered for myself given my condition, having children. It just didn’t seem fair to anyone, as much as I secretly would have loved it – creating a unit of my own. So, I can imagine if it was something I actually tried for, it would be awful not to get it.
I have this overwhelming urge to ask him about something else Charlie said now, about Claire, and I realise in this moment that I’m jealous. Pure, senseless jealousy for this woman I’ve never even met. Who was she? Were they really in love? How long were they together?
And I have a horrible feeling that I like Adam more than I know.
‘Do you think you’ll head to one of Charlie’s classes?’ he says, and I’m jolted away from my thoughts.
I give him a wry smile. ‘Did you actually see me? Totally crap at dancing.’
‘Oh, come on,’ he says, his eyes glittering at me, ‘you were not crap. And you definitely looked like you were enjoying it, which is the main thing. I’d go with you, if you wanted?’
My stomach flutters at the suggestion, at the way he glances at me.
‘Perhaps,’ I say, uncertain if I mean it or not. I do realise I should probably make the most of this healthy body while I have it, but I was telling the truth earlier – dancing was always more Cat’s thing, even though I thought it looked like brilliant fun.
‘I’m pretty sure I have two left feet,’ I add, because I don’t want him to feel like I’m blowing him off or I don’t want to hang out with him.Because I really do.
I was just so badly burned before.
‘Well, you’ll never know unless you try,’ Adam says, and I have to wonder if he has a point.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a total disaster.
Once we’ve arrived back at our building, Adam unlocks the door and I’m walking in when I notice something outside the card shop next to it, and my heart stops. A second later and my foot catches on something and I go flying forwards into the dark.
‘Shit!’ I cry, just as Adam catches me deftly by the back of my coat; pulls me to standing.
I turn to look up at him, heart absolutely pounding in my chest, when an unexpected bubble of laughter comes out of me. ‘Two left feet,’ I say and start laughing again, and then he’s laughing too in the dark, this rumble growing between us until we are howling in the echoey stairwell.
The sound of a lock clicking open; light suddenly floods on to us.
‘What the hell is going on out here?’ a sharp, yet vaguely familiar voice says. We both turn sharply to see an elderly man standing in the ground floor doorway. He’s in pyjamas, a blue robe, a shock of white hair sticking up on his head. Despite the fragility of the situation for him, his pale-blue eyes laser in on us.
‘So sorry, William,’ Adam says quickly, apologetically. ‘We just came in.’
‘I can see that,’ says William, ‘but I’ve had enough of all this racket, people coming in later and later at night. Why can’t everyone just shut up?’
The second buzzer I pressed that day.
Adam says nothing further, but I can’t help feeling bad for William. It probably is a bit terrifying getting disturbed like that late at night, and looking down by my feet, I see what I tripped over finally – a box, with the name William Johnson across the front.So, this is who I rent my flat from, I think, before picking it up and carrying it across.
‘Here you go,’ I say, passing it to him. ‘I fell over it coming in – that’s why we were laughing, but I’m really sorry about waking you.’
William takes it from me cagily, like I’m giving him a bomb, until he looks at the label.
‘Ah, yes,’ he says, clearing his throat. ‘My funeral pamphlets. Though I’ll probably be dead by morning anyway after tonight . . .’
His words are jarring, but I’m sure I hear the trace of something lighter there too, some inkling of humour.
