Page 30 of Big Nick Energy
‘Did people actually dance?’
‘Oh, we moved on to liquid assets and venture capitalism.’
I giggle under my breath. ‘Thrilling.’
‘It was the wrong sort of place to have a date and I am very sorry I left you,’ he says.
‘I seriously thought you’d dumped me in the most spectacular fashion,’ I jest.
‘But why would I do that?’ He steps closer to me. ‘When I’ve just found you again.’ I feel a breath catch in my chest to hear those words, the romance of it in the low lights in the street. He shrugs his shoulders. ‘I like you, Kay. It feels easy to be with you, even after all this time. Do you feel that too?’
I nod quietly. ‘It feels like…’ I want to say ‘home’ without it sounding corny, but there’s a strange comfort I get from being around him. He reminds me of a time when life was more fun, less complicated, and it’s warming to feel that at a time when my idea of home is so confused. ‘It feels nice.’
‘Only nice?’ he whispers, tilting his head, taking my hand in his.
I grin but his expression suddenly changes when I walk more into the light and he sees that my jumpsuit is ripped.Don’t look at my hair.I didn’t realise my curls had this much capacity to hold so many pine needles. ‘Shit. Did you fall?’
I pause for a moment, wondering how to explain this. No, I went to the outskirts of Greater London and visited a Christmas tree farm, I then fell through a netting machine and got rescued by a hot Santa, also called Nick. ‘I may have tripped outside the museum and fallen into a Christmas tree,’ I say. ‘Those negronis were potent.’ His face immediately shifts to concern and care, and I pout. ‘I’m fine. I got fixed up. I found food. Seriously, how long have you been waiting out here?’
He shrugs his shoulders and puts his hands in mine. Long enough to potentially develop frostbite. I look up at him. This is very confusing. I left that museum tonight thinking this was done. We are from different worlds. We had our moment. It’s done. But he’s here, with a large bouquet of roses, wanting to apologise, still looking pretty damn sexy in that tux. I’m also not the sort of person to turn away someone in this cold. ‘Better pick up those flowers and come in then, eh?’ I say.
‘Are you sure?’ he says.
I lean over and kiss him on his cold cheek, my body folding into his, still loving how familiar and magnetic that feels. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. Do you want a hot-water bottle?’ I ask him.
‘Sexy.’
‘I thought so.’
FOURTEEN
‘I bet he stole those flowers out of the museum,’ Helen says as she organises books off a wheeled trolley. ‘Where on earth are you getting thirty red roses in the middle of the night?’
‘It is London,’ Olga says. ‘I reckon there is someone you could call if you paid them enough money. That is nice, so many flowers. That is the sign of a gentleman.’
There was something very sweet about it all, the flowers, the gesture of turning up unannounced, the contrition in his tone. However, once he came into my maisonette, he was less gentlemanly with the way we had sex on the stairs. Turns out it is easy to get out of a jumpsuit when it’s already ripped to shreds from a Christmas tree netting funnel.
‘So what does this mean?’ Helen asks. ‘Are you dating?’
I don’t know the answer to that one. He stayed the night, he ordered in breakfast for us, he stayed long enough for it not to feel like a dirty one-night stand. There was a moment in bed where it felt like we’d rewinded to 2017, our bodies entangled in my double bed as the winter sun streamed through the windows.
‘I have no idea, but we’re meeting tomorrow night again for what he describes as a proper date,’ I say.
Olga claps her hands. ‘And soon we will have money to fix the roof. You put out a few more times, yes?’
Helen looks me in the eye, as if searching for my thoughts on the whole matter. I would let on if I knew myself. It’s Nick from university. There is a real comfort to be with him; he knows me already so I can totally be myself with him. In fact, the years have done us both well, we’re our own people, we’ve grown up and know what we want from a relationship – it’s none of this young love where we’re trying so damn hard to please all the time. And both of us are floored by the magic of it all, carried by a feeling that the universe has asked us to give this another go. That feels like something beyond our control, a power greater than us. So with the chemistry still there, there’s excitement at being thrown back together and seeing where this goes. The road forked for a reason – so we could grow – and now we have come back together with a wealth of maturity and experience under our belts. This could be a great love. The key word there iscould.
‘Maybe you should see how it all goes? Don’t jump into anything if you don’t feel ready?’ Helen says, offering a more considered opinion. ‘Christmas will do that to you. Some fairy lights and a whiff of cinnamon and most girls will just drop their knickers.’
A person appears at the counter looking a little perturbed. ‘Excuse me, do you have a specific biography section?’
‘We do,’ Helen says. ‘Over by the sofas, near travel, bottom shelf.’
‘Is that what gets you going then, Helen? A bit of Christmas?’
‘Well, John and I probably have more sex at Christmas but solely because it’s a means of staying warm so we don’t have to put the heating on.’
I laugh, a little too loudly given it’s a library, but she returns me a look, one which reads care and worry that as much as we joke, she wants me to find something authentic. She offers meanother chocolate from the tin behind the counter. Such is the way with libraries at the moment that everyone comes in with sweets and gifts to say thank you for looking after them all year, for giving them our recommendations and pointing at the right shelves, and I guess for also being guardians of somewhere safe and reassuring.
