“No, she wouldn’t. She’d understand.” His mouth claimed hers again, his tongue daring her to leave everyone behind.
Alex welcomed his challenge, losing herself in the moment and erasing all thoughts of Naomi and cheesy love songs from her mind.
Mark broke free first, quick breaths leaving his lips. His eyes, full of need and want and impatience, didn’t stray. With an impish grin, his hand swept over her bottom as he pushed his hips into hers.
Woah. Mark was ready—now. “You don’t waste any time, Mr. Keegan.” Alex’s eyes danced around the pub. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but you haven’t answered my question.”
“The answer’s always yes.” He blinked slowly, his eyelids heavy with anticipation.
Alex laughed. “No, Mark, I meant…what do you think about all this?”
“Lovely ceremony. Smashing party. Bit too much ABBA.” His mouth returned to her neck. “Can we go now?”
“That’s not what I was asking…”
He tilted his head to the side, searching her face for clues.
Alex chewed the corner of her bottom lip. “What do you think about us…getting married one day?”
His eyes popped open, twice their size. “Ah, okay. That’s not what I expected. Where’s this coming from? The first of your friends gets hitched and you’re overcome with fuzzy feels?”
“No.” She scrunched up her nose. “It’s been on my mind for a while now…”
“Really? You’ve never mentioned it, although I did overhear you and Lucy, ages ago, something about marriage after thirty? So, what’s that—six more years of dirty, unwed sex in our future?” He gently nibbled her earlobe as he pressed hard against her again. “I say, bring it…starting now.”
“Mark!”
“What?” He laughed. “Don’t play all innocent with me, Sinclair. I know better.”
She tugged on his shoulders. “Be serious for a minute. We love each other, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, don’t you want to be committed—officially? It’s the obvious next step.”
“Yeah, but it’s a step that people rush into for the wrong reasons. I think a lot of couples do it because things ‘get stale’, but that’s not us, is it? We’re happy. We keep each other on our toes, and the sex is amazing.” He nuzzled her neck, breathing her in and delivering soft kisses towards her décolletage. “If it ain’t broke…”
Her eyebrows squished together. “If it ain’t broke, then…why wait?”
Mark lifted his head, his eyes scanning the small dance floor. “Well, for one thing, we’re both crazy busy. Can you imagine? Organizing a wedding while working your attachment?”
“My attachment ends next week.”
“Already? Christ, this year’s been a blur. Who’s to say the National won’t pick up that play? Wouldn’t it make more sense to establish our careers first, while we’re young and everything’s happening, and then get married?”
While everything’s happening? For you, maybe. Alex stifled a frown as Tom and Naomi danced slowly past. “We can do both. If it’s important, you find a way.”
“Lex, does this have anything to do with our argument earlier?”
“No…” Alex pulled back with a squint.
“Because me being away for long stretches won’t magically be fixed by a wedding ring.”
“It’s just…we’re so busy looking after our professional lives, our private lives could use some TLC, too. You said it yourself on the bus—we need to find a balance between the two.”
“That’s true…” Mark sighed heavily. “But to be honest, Mouse, I’m not ready to get hitched. I mean, I will be, one day. Marriage is great, and my parents had such a happy one.” He smirked, and drew her closer. “In the meantime, Vespa rules, right? Hop on, hold tight, and remember to enjoy the ride.”
The ride, the never-ending ride towards…what? Where were they headed? One day was a destination impossible to navigate, off the edge of the map, and how could she plan for one day when this past year she never knew if he was coming or going…or staying? Panic rose in her throat as tears threatened her makeup. She lowered her head to Mark’s chest, glancing sideways at Harry and Lucy nearby, engaged in friendly conversation while locked in a dance floor embrace.
Mark lifted her chin with his hand and looked into her eyes. Alex blinked several times, unable to erase the weepy evidence. “Mouse, I know my news today threw you for a loop, and it seems like we’re never together, but things will get better.” His hand tightened around her waist. “Don’t worry. I’ll sort out flights for Newfoundland, and you can come visit, okay?”
Those large brown eyes beckoned, so hopeful, so persuasive—impossible to resist.
The twinge in Alex’s chest didn’t budge. As she nodded, a grin nudging her freckles betrayed the unwavering quiver in her stomach.
“That’s my girl.” He smiled.
The DJ picked up the pace with “Happy” by Pharrell Williams and Mark squeezed Alex’s arm. “Yes! My request—finally.” Freddie and Simon showed up out of nowhere, bouncing beside Mark in a display of giddy solidarity. Alex stepped away, raising an imaginary glass to her lips. Mark nodded and dove into the abyss of sweaty revellers, the music engaging his body fully. Squeezing through the crowd alone and skirting the grabby hands of Tom’s drunken uncle, the smile fell from Alex’s face.
Six
Passing a pair of rumpled teenagers kissing like the end of the world was looming, Alex spied Lucy leaning against a magenta wall, a framed Depeche Mode “Master and Servant” poster keeping her company. “You and Harry looked cosy.”
“Nah, we’re just taking pity on each other.” Lucy adjusted the slipping shoulder strap on Alex’s dress. “He’s so hospitable, making sure I’ve got a drink. No wonder Bespoke is such a success.”
Right on cue, the twenty-five-year-old appeared at Lucy’s elbow with two flutes of champagne. “Here you go, ladies. Tom’s parents bailed, so he’s asked me to circulate. I’ll catch you in a bit…”
Alex waited to speak until the club owner was out of reach. “Two glasses?” Her lips hovered over the flute’s rim. “I bet this one was Harry’s until I hijacked you.” She gulped a mouthful, followed by another.
“Nice try, Ms. Matchmaker. Dating Harry would be like dating your brother. Anyway, I’m still stuck on that other blond.”
“Why don’t you just tell Charlie you like him? Why torture yourself, wondering if he feels the same way? It’s better to know.”
“Never say never. With a little Dutch courage, anything’s possible. Maybe I’ll pounce on him at New Year’s.”
Lucy exhaled slowly and walked with Alex towards the wooden stairwell leading upstairs. Their new vantage point would keep them safe from flailing arms but still offer a view of their friends’ dancing shenanigans. “I don’t want to make it awkward. I think he sees me as just his flatmate, nothing more.” Lucy sighed. “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, eh?”
Pharrell Williams gave way abruptly for ABBA’s “Voulez-Vous.” Lucy bobbed her head to the music and laughed, catching sight of the guys pulling disco moves with Naomi that would make John Travolta cringe. “Simon’s rat-arsed. He’d never crease up his suit like that if he was sober.” She squealed and leaned into Alex. “Check out Mark! He’s learned a thing or two from Freddie, all those nights at Zippers before he met you. Fuck, he’s got moves—look at those hip thrusts. It’s almost pornographic. All the better for you, eh, babe?”
Lucy’s words evaporated into the music. Alex was lost in her champagne’s bubbles, her mind elsewhere.
“And speaking of pornographic, my jaw aches! It’s hard work, blowing the Harrow rugby team behind the bar, and then Tom strolled up and asked, ‘Where’s mine?’ And I said, ‘Piss off. I’m not one of your old tarts looking for a final fling.”’ She poked Alex with her elbow.
“Sorry…you what?”
“God, if the blowjob line did
n’t pull you back, I feared where I’d be headed next…”
Alex lowered her brows. “Blowjob?”
“Never mind. You were off on another planet just then, probably picturing what the two of you will get up to later—not that I blame you.”
“Right…”
Lucy playfully placed her hand on Alex’s forehead. “You okay? Your man’s been away for six weeks and a shag isn’t top of mind? If I were you, I’d say screw the reception and get busy with him in the loos.”
“No, it is top of mind, it’s just—”
“It’s just what? What are you waiting for? Mark’s crazy for you—sickeningly so.” She pointed to the dance floor. “Just look at him, he keeps spinning around, waving you over…voulez-vous. Ha! Why the fuck are vous still here with me? Get in!”
Alex ignored Lucy’s orders, her thoughts wandering again. “If we’re crazy for each other and hate being apart, we should…get married.”
Lucy spluttered on a mouthful of champagne. “M-M-Married?” She bent forward, her hand flying to her mouth. Cough, cough, cough. “B-But you’re”—cough cough—“only twenty-f-f-four.”
“You okay?” Alex rubbed her friend’s back.
“Are you?” Lucy straightened up, her eyes watering. Cough. “That went down”—cough— “wrong way.”
Alex watched her boyfriend whooping it up with Freddie and Simon on the dance floor, a hint of wistfulness in her eyes.
Lucy swallowed again and again, the burning in her throat refusing to fade. “You haven’t even hit your two-year anniversary and you’re thinking marriage?”
“It’s in less than two months.”
Lucy glanced at the boys and then at her friend. “Lex, seriously? You’ve never been one to doodle Mrs. Mark Keegan in the margins of your plays. Why are you suddenly all wedding obsessed?”
“Keep your voice down.” Alex clenched her jaw. “I’m NOT obsessed.”
Lucy threw a hand up in the air defensively. “Okay, if you say you’re not, you’re not. Don’t get shirty—I’m just trying to understand where you’re coming from.” She blew out her cheeks.
Alex scowled, dropping the duo into silence. A minute felt like an hour. She had to tell her best friend…
“I found a ring in Mark’s backpack.”
Lucy look startled. “A RING? When?”
“August, in Dublin, the day we showed his mum the new house. Mark doesn’t know—I put it straight back.”
“And now you’re telling me? Three months later—”
Alex kept her volume low. “I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d tease me for being that girl.”
“That’s true, I would’ve. So, c’mon then, how big was it? Did you need sunnies?”
“Lovely little diamond, white gold band, understated but pretty—really pretty.”
“What the fuck? Did he buy it before he became a household name? It sounds like a Kinder Egg toy.” Lucy frowned. “He can do better than that.”
“Actually, it’s a family heirloom. Grace told me.”
“You asked Grace—in front of Mark?”
“No! He was in the kitchen with his mum, saying hi to someone on the phone. Rhys was in the bathroom. Grace and I were at the dinner table, talking about the family photos along the stairs. There’s a gorgeous shot of her and Rhys’ wedding where she’s holding up this blinding square-cut diamond ring—”
“Sounds like Grace’s bloke has better taste in rings.”
Alex glared. “You sound more like that girl than I do. Who cares if it’s large, square, yellow—it’s not about the actual ring. It’s about what it symbolizes.”
“Yeah, that your man is minted.” Lucy sniffed. “So, how did you two get talking about the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it hand-me-down?”
“Grace talked about the night she got engaged and said that when Mark was ready to propose, he would have their mum’s ring. She described it, and it sounded just like the one in his backpack.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “Fuck…”
“I know, right?”
“So that’s why you’ve been so weird!” Lucy sipped her champagne.
“Don’t blame me, Mark started it—he’s the one with the engagement ring.” Alex peered into her glass. “I was never all about marriage, but now that I’ve actually seen it…and with Christmas coming up, our anniversary, I keep thinking he’s gonna ask! I’ve gotten all obsessed since finding that ring. Lucy, who have I become?”
“You’ve become Gollum, but, you know, without the body odour and bulging eyes. My precioussssss—”
“Shut up.” Alex swatted at her friend.
“Well! You do have big feet like him.”
“Stop! I thought it might happen next month in New York but with that trip cancelled—”
“I thought you were gonna kill him on the bus.”
“I brought it up while we were dancing, just now.”
“What? The ring?”
“No! Marriage…”
“Shit, Lex. Sometimes you don’t know when to leave well enough alone.”
“He wants to wait. What the fuck, Lucy? Is he acting, trying to throw me off the scent? Or maybe he’s changed his mind…”
“Lex, come on. Fess up. What’s really bothering you?”
Alex’s eyes sought out Mark, but she could no longer find him in the crush. “He’s never here.”
“Babe, you knew when you started dating an actor that work would take him away.”
“Yeah, to do a play up in Sheffield or a TV series in Scotland, but South Africa, Thailand, California, Newfoundland for weeks—months on end? That’s completely different, and it’s happened so quickly.”
“Go with him.”
“And ignore my own work?”
“You’re no longer giving tours at the National, so what’s the problem? You can write anywhere.”
“No, I can’t. I had that writing group at the Royal Court. Then, the Donmar commission started, and there was no way I’d bail on the attachment. Anyway, I can’t afford to follow Mark around.”
“You’d be alone a lot, too, in strange places with strange foods.” Lucy chuckled. “You’d bloody starve, Miss Picky Pants.”
“It sucks. We haven’t spent five days in a row together since April. I’m thrilled he’s getting bigger roles and great reviews, honestly, I am—he deserves all that success and more, but…”
“But what?”
“I’m afraid he’s working himself too hard. I’m afraid…I’m afraid he’ll start to go off me, forget about me.”
Lucy chuckled as a teen stole a half-full champagne flute left on the stairs. “As if! I’ve heard all about your FaceTime sex sessions.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Blame Freddie. You know he’s terrible at keeping secrets.”
“Ergh, I can’t believe Mark told him.”
“I can’t believe Mark still hasn’t realized that Freddie’s got loose lips.”
“Lucy, Mark’s fame and all the upheaval it’s caused makes our lives feel out of control, unpredictable, and I hate unpredictable. How can we plan for our future when our present is just a turbulent long-distance relationship with no end in sight? He says he loves me, wants to be with me, but that’s just words—”
“Says the playwright.”
“His actions don’t back them up. I’m the one making all the sacrifices, compromising everything. After lunch tomorrow, he’ll be gone again, and it makes me super anxious. I need some kind of stability, some security, and that’s what that ring symbolizes to me. That’s why I want to get married. It’s not about the party, the dress—”
“But you already moved in together. That’s not stable enough?”
“No. If anything, it feels worse sometimes, like I’ve got more to lose now—”
“I knew it.” Lucy sipped her champagne.
“Knew what?”
“Your anxiety is flaring again. You’ve been having panic attacks, haven’t you?”
“No…”
“Now it all makes sense.” Lucy stared at her. “The quick exits, the last-minute excuses. You didn’t have food poisoning. That’s why you skipped Naomi’s hen weekend, wasn’t it? Oh, babe, when did they start again?”
Alex raised her glass to her lips.
“Lex, answer me.”
“Seven months ago. My doctor gave me some pills, but I haven’t tried them yet.”
“What happened seven mo—” Lucy widened her eyes. “Oh, right.”
“Lucy, don’t tell Mark.”
“Never mind Mark, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped!”
“Because I catch a sniffle and you drop everything. Your concern would make Freddie curious, and if Freddie found out…”
“He would tell Mark.” Lucy nodded. “But wouldn’t it be good if Mark knew? I bet he’d try to be home more, and I thought that was what you wanted?”
“It is, but I don’t want him turning down jobs because of my panic attacks. He’s living his dream, Lucy—I’d never take that away from him or ask him to choose between me or work. If we got married, I bet I wouldn’t feel so anxious. Life would be more secure…I just think I’d feel more settled, knowing where we were headed. Maybe I wouldn’t sweat his absences as much? With a ring on his finger, he’d never forget me, either…”
Lucy smiled sympathetically. “Oh, Lex. Marriage won’t guarantee that you two will stay together. Just look at my parents—fuck, look at yours!”
“I know all that, but why should having divorced parents and a dysfunctional childhood automatically make me a commitment-phobe? If anything, the opposite is true—I know what NOT to do. I don’t want to lose him, Lucy.”
“Don’t be daft. Look, he’s got this engagement ring, yeah? And now he knows you want to get married. So, you’re dealing with when, not if, right? You just need to be patient, let him get there in his own time, babe. I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposes with the ring inside a snapdragon, the old romantic.”
“Or a big bag of chocolate Buttons.” A shy smile returned to Alex’s face.
London, Can You Wait? Page 5