Clarky’s face falls.
‘But I suppose we’ve all cleaned up after each other anyway, so what’s one more job.’
‘And it won’t take us long, if we all pitch in,’ Fi adds.
‘Yeah, why not,’ Matt chimes in.
The only person left is Zach.
‘I’ll do it … if I get the TV,’ he says.
‘Not a chance,’ Clarky replies.
I roll my eyes. I only need to be patient with Clarky for a couple more hours, and then none of this will be my problem anymore.
‘You know,’ I start, ‘your deposit is actually worth more than a broken TV.’
‘I know, Luca, I’m not an idiot … but my pride is worth more,’ he replies.
I leave him to think it over for a second.
‘OK, sure, Zach can have the rubbish old TV, I’ll take the money,’ he eventually says.
I don’t point out to him that this isn’t a game show, and that on top of the TV Zach will be getting his deposit back too. Instead, we all grab cleaning products and plastic bags and head up to Clarky’s room to help him get it in a fit state for inspection.
As poor Fifi braves the bathroom, I get to work cleaning out the junk under his bed. Zach is vacuuming, Matt is dusting, and Ed and Clarky are packing up the last on his things, into the flimsy cardboard boxes he’s attempting to use to move. Together, we get the room clean in a flash, long before our landlord comes over to check it.
Suddenly, the thought of moving on with my life terrifies me. I like living here, with these weirdos. I know how to handle the problems we have here but, out in the real world, I’m not sure I’m going to know what the hell I’m doing.
‘I actually think I’m going to miss you all,’ I blurt.
‘I’m glad someone said it,’ Matt says. ‘I’ve been thinking it too.’
‘We’ll all keep in touch, right?’ Fifi says.
‘Of course,’ I tell her.
‘This is getting bit mushy for me,’ Clarky complains, pretending to stick his fingers down his throat.
‘We love you too, man,’ Zach tells him. ‘Even if you lose fights.’
‘Erm, I won,’ Clarky insists. ‘But … same.’
I don’t think we’re good at this sort of thing. I think that, if we’ve learned one thing during our time living together this past year, it’s that none of us are very good at expressing our feelings.
One thing I know for sure though is that even if it doesn’t always seem like it, and even if we lose touch, we’ll be friends forever. Five years, ten years, fifteen years … it doesn’t matter, I know that meeting up with these guys will be like slipping on an old pair of jeans. You might not wear them anymore but, when you try them on again, you remember how right it felt.
I’ve spent the past few months convinced that I lost my chance at true love, but maybe I found it after all … just with this bunch of misfits.
Chapter 39
New Year’s Eve 2020
‘Is it unusual to get married during winter?’ Stella, Ed’s wife, asks.
‘Never mind that,’ Ed replies. ‘It’s New Year’s Eve. Who gets married on New Year’s Eve?’
It’s so strange, being back at the Willows Lodge Hotel in Norwich – but this time during a particularly harsh winter rather than a roasting summer heatwave. The last time we were here we were all relaxing outside. It’s far too cold for that today though, so we’re all inside, sitting on cowhide sofas, surrounding roaring fireplaces instead of out in the garden, sunning ourselves. It’s a definite change of scenery but, still, it brings back so many memories.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Zach says. ‘Were you supposed to be at a wild New Year’s Eve party with your wife and four kids?’
Stella winces slightly at Zach’s reply. I’m not sure she’ll ever get used to the way we all playfully tease each other.
‘Oh yeah,’ Ed replies sarcastically. ‘And which wild party were you, Fi and baby Robin supposed to be attending instead of being here?’
‘This is why we got married in the summer, in the sunshine, away from all the major holidays,’ Fi points out with a delicate smile.
She’s cradling Robin on her knee. I don’t suppose I spend much time around kids, but he seems remarkably well behaved for a nine-month-old. In the movies, babies always seem to be crying, but I don’t think I’ve heard so much as a gurgle come out of Robin yet.
‘He’s so good,’ I point out.
‘Barney is eight months, and he just cries all the time,’ Kat says, massaging her temples, as though she’s stressed out by the mere thought of it. ‘It was nice of Al, to take him for a walk around the hotel, give us a break to sit and chat.’
It’s weird, seeing gigantic Al Atlantic holding a tiny baby in his massive arms. He seems like a natural with kids though, it’s cute. He’s like a real life BFG.
‘Matt, I was wondering … has anyone called you and Kat out on the timeline of your baby?’ Zach wonders.
‘No, most people are too polite,’ Kat answers sharply.
‘Oh, OK,’ he replies. ‘Not that I can talk about having babies out of wedlock, but … I was just curious about what came first, Matt: you or the wedding?’
I laugh so hard, I choke on my drink.
‘Anyway,’ Matt starts with a clap of his hands, quickly changing the subject. ‘I can’t believe we’re all together again.’
‘This is the third time in seventeen months,’ I point out. ‘It’s nice.’
‘We’ve had three weddings, including this one. Two births. One engagement,’ Fi points out. ‘I can’t help but wonder what is coming next.’
Tom sits down on the sofa next to me.
‘What you drinking?’ I ask him.
‘Martini with lemonade,’ he says.
‘And how’s the menopause going?’ Matt asks him. ‘My mum drinks those.’
Tom laughs it off, in his usual, easy going way.
‘You sure you don’t want one?’ he asks me.
‘No, I’m fine with my cranberry juice, thanks,’ I reply.
‘Luca, are you not drinking?’ Fi asks me suspiciously, looking me up and down.
‘I’m not drinking, but I’m not not drinking,’ I reply with a laugh. ‘Sometimes people just don’t drink. Ed is only drinking lemonade.’
I kick myself as soon as I point it out. I’m proud of him though, for knowing his limit now when it comes to drinking.
‘Unpopular opinion, but some people do enjoy being married for a while before they start having kids,’ I say.
I’m only teasing, and everyone knows that. There is no longer a right or wrong order to do things in, all that matters these days is doing what makes you happy.
‘Who gets married after little over a year together?’ Matt asks.
‘Two people in love,’ I tell him.
‘Yeah, but you and Tom are in love – and you’ve got years behind you as friends too – and you’re not hurrying down the aisle.’
‘You’re just gutted you’re not best man,’ Tom tells him with a chuckle. He puts his drink on the table and wraps his arm around me, pulling me close. Even inside, sitting in the warmth of the fire, it’s kind of chilly in here, so the warmth coming from Tom’s body is more than welcomed. ‘He went for some star power instead of his oldest friend.’
‘Speaking of the best man,’ I say as Al approaches the table. If you look closely, you can just about see baby Barney in his massive arms.
‘He’s flat out,’ Al says. ‘Hopefully he’ll sleep for a while now.’
‘Al, you’re amazing,’ Kat tells him quietly. ‘Like some kind of baby whisperer.’
‘Hey, didn’t I hear you saved a baby from a car accident?’ Ed asks him casually, although he’s been bursting to ask him about it all day.
‘I did, yeah,’ Al replies casually. ‘I ripped the door of a car and lifted her out.’
‘You ripped the door off a car,’ Tom repeats, and it’s not in disbelief because he doesn’t thin
k Al is capable – I think he’s just amazed at how often Al gets to play the superhero.
‘Yeah, here’s the thing though, I don’t know how much you know about the hinge on a rear door of a Ford Focus, but just inside the …’
I tune out. It’s amazing, how Al can make saving a baby from a car wreck sound boring. He’s a great guy though, it’s nice to see him doing well. Thanks to his heroics, and his Mr Macho hat trick, Al is somewhat of an internet celebrity now. He has a vlog, where he gives advice on healthy eating and exercise – the kind of unsolicited advice he used to give me, except now he has an audience of adoring fans hanging off his every word.
‘I’m going to take Barney to change him,’ Kat says.
‘For what?’ Matt jokes.
Kat just rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she still finds him charming, even when he’s making dad jokes.
‘Hey everybody,’ Clarky sings as he approaches our table. ‘Having a good time?’
‘Can’t believe we’re here to be honest, mate,’ Matt replies.
‘Back where you got married?’ he asks.
‘No, because I can’t believe you got married.’
‘Hey, when you know, you know,’ he replies. ‘I’ve met the girl of my dreams. Couldn’t wait to take her up the aisle.’
I roll my eyes at his attempt at a rude joke, but Clarky has a glimmer in his eye that I don’t think I’ve seen before. He seems really, truly happy and content with what he’s got. I haven’t seen him rubberneck a single girl today – or a married one.
‘Married life suits you,’ I tell him. ‘You’ve got a real spring in your step.’
‘That’ll be those heels he’s wearing,’ Zach quips. ‘Don’t think I haven’t clocked those, pal.’
Clarky looks very smart, in his grey three-piece suit. He wore a top hat during the ceremony, which I’m relieved to see he’s taken off now. Now that I think about, coupled with the heels, the top hat was probably a vain attempt at making him appear taller in the photos.
‘Hey, they’ve got a new bridge outside, did you see?’ Clarky asks, like an excitable little kid.
‘Really?’ I reply.
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I was thinking we should all go stress test it.’
God, I hope he’s kidding.
‘Well, you did get a wife out of it last time,’ Tom points out.
I can’t believe that Clarky is marrying the hotel receptionist he met last year at Matt and Kat’s wedding. I suppose he’s right: when you know, you know.
‘It’s only Luca who isn’t married now,’ Clarky points out.
‘Mark!’ Fi tells him off.
‘It’s fine,’ I tell her. ‘We get this a lot.’
‘And what I keep telling people,’ Tom says, ‘is that if I give any indication of when I plan on popping the question, it will ruin the surprise for Luca.’
‘It’d be funny if you did it on the bridge,’ Clarky says. ‘Even funnier if it collapsed.’
‘Nope, I’m going to get her when she least expects it,’ Tom says, giving me a cheeky smile. ‘No pre-existing memorable dates, no familiar places … Something completely new and completely random, but completely special too. Luca isn’t into all that kismet stuff.’
I smile at him. It never ceases to amaze me how well he knows me.
Matt learns forward in his seat. A serious look takes over his face.
‘OK, but listen to this,’ he says, taking a deep breath. ‘What if I was supposed to go to uni with you guys, and Tom was supposed to end up with Cleo, so that I’d meet her sister, Kat, so that we could get married. Then, at our wedding, it was all supposed to kick off, so that Tom could end up with Luca, who he’s supposed to be with, and Clarky could fall into the pond, meet the receptionist, and that’s why he’s getting married today. Because all that happened. What do you think of that?’
‘I think this group has never done anything the easy way,’ I point out. ‘I think we could’ve got the same happy endings with way less drama.’
‘Cynic,’ Matt replies, smiling to let me know that he doesn’t really mean it.
I still don’t buy into the whole fate thing, I think we make our own fate. Whether it’s the love of your life, your dream job, or any other goal you might have – sitting back and thinking fate will deliver it to you is crazy, that’s never going to work. We have to work hard for the things we want, and even when we get them, we have to keep working hard. Say fate had brought Tom and I together, does that mean I can take him for granted? That I don’t have to make an effort to make sure our relationship works? Of course it doesn’t. The same goes for my job – I was unhappy, so I changed it. And that’s not to say it was easy, I had to land myself a new one before I could leave my old one, but I’m so glad that I did. We decide our own fate. Nothing is set in stone. Life is what you make of it.
If fate isn’t the reason we’re all sitting around this table right now then it has to be pure luck and coincidence that got us here, and a decision to stay in each other’s lives that keeps us here. If that’s true, then the slightest differences in our lives could’ve sent us down completely different roads. One small decision by any one of us, and things could be so different now. That’s why I feel so lucky though, to have found exactly what I want, despite multiple roadblocks. The reason Tom and I are together isn’t fate, it’s love. We’re together because we choose to be together, because we love to be together, and I can’t wait to see what kind of future we make for ourselves.
Acknowledgements
An extra massive, extra special thank you to my brilliant editor, Nia, who has been an absolute joy to work with on this book. Thanks to you, and to the entire HQ team, for all of your hard work.
Big thanks to my wonderful readers, who continue to read and review my books. When I hear that someone really enjoyed one of my stories, or it got them through an especially hard time, it reminds me of the main reason I do this.
Thank you so much to James, the genius behind my beautiful website (portiamacintosh.com). I had no idea putting together a website could be so much fun, although that may be down to his karaoke throughout.
A special thank you to Aud, who might just be my number one fan. You’re one hell of a lady.
Thank you to Kim, for all of your promotion, love and support. I have no idea where I’d be without you.
Huge thanks to Joey, master of the English language. Thanks for listening to me bang on about weird story ideas and for all your proof-reading-work. I promise to always do the same for you (even though your material is way weirder).
Finally, an extra big thank you to Joe. Thanks for always taking care of me. From helping me come up with ideas to proof reading to just generally keeping me sane. I’m not sure if you laugh at my jokes because they’re funny, or just because you love me, but I don’t mind either way. I love you, chief.
Turn the page for an exclusive extract from Love and Lies at the Village Christmas Shop …
Prologue – 1998
‘Holly Jones, what have you done?’ I hear my mum ask through gritted teeth, with enough volume to show that she’s angry, but not so much that the shop full of customers can hear her.
I remove my nose from my copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone to see what exactly my sister has done now. I wouldn’t usually jump to conclusions, but this is Holly, and Holly will do anything if it has enough shock value.
We went our separate ways at the school gates no more than a couple of hours ago. Holly wanted to go into town with her mates for a while before tea, but I wanted to come here and read my book, sitting on my stool behind the counter of my mum’s Christmas shop. I always enjoy spending time here but now that it’s December – and actually Christmas time – the place feels all the more magical.
This afternoon the shop is overflowing with tourists, who have travelled from all over to check out Marram Bay’s open-year-round Christmas shop. Christmas Every Day is so much more than just a shop though, it’s like a magical S
anta’s workshop, with wall-to-wall Christmas decorations and gifts, with glitter and twinkly lights everywhere you look. Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ is pumping out through speakers around the shop. It’s such an infectious song, which you can’t help but love and sing along to. I’m not even sure I can name another Mariah Carey song, but this one is a Christmas classic.
Despite the trees in the shop being artificial (they do have to stay up all year round, after all), my mum has these special pine air fresheners which, combined with the locally made gingerbread she’s selling at the counter at the moment, give the place a real, irresistible Christmassy smell that I can’t get enough of. Perhaps my favourite part of all – and a favourite feature of many of the customers who visit the shop – is the steam train that runs on a track around the shop, over bridges, through tunnels and even around the shop Christmas tree that stays up all year.
From the second you walk through the door there’s just this magical feeling in the air. That warm, hopeful, festive feeling you only get at Christmas time. It makes you want to eat gingerbread, sing carols and be happy with your loved ones – and I get to experience it all year round.
But while I might share my mum’s love and passion for all things festive, my twin sister Holly absolutely does not. In fact, she has such a strong dislike for the most wonderful time of year that she always acts up around the holidays. And now, here she is, like clockwork, on 1st December, with a drastic new hairstyle that my mum did not sign off on.
Holly’s previously shoulder-length blonde hair, along with her hairline and most of her neck, is now bright red.
‘It’s just like Lisa Scott-Lee’s,’ my sister says, running both (stained red) hands through her hair, by way of an explanation. I think it’s safe to say that her obsession with Steps has reached its peak.
‘You’re my 14-year-old daughter, you’re not Lisa Scott-Lee,’ my mum reminds her as she serves a customer. When the shop is so busy, my mum is forced to parent around working – or work around parenting, whichever needs to take priority at the time.
The Time of Our Lives Page 22