by Paige Toon
‘I think I want a divorce,’ I find myself saying.
My statement stuns him into silence.
Chapter 24
There was a problem on the Underground the day I met Ned, and it seemed like everyone in London was crammed onto the buses…
I could kick myself. I should have left work before rush hour, but I wanted to get those maths papers marked. Normally I’d take work home with me, but Josie was playing her music in her bedroom last night – not too loud, but loud enough for me not to be able to concentrate. I didn’t feel like I could ask her to keep it down when she’s only just moved in. I don’t want to be one of those flatmates…
When I see the state of Camden High Street, however, I deeply regret my decision to stay behind and finish up. I almost turn round and go back to school, but then I see two C2 buses hurtling along the road towards me in quick succession. I make a beeline for the second bus, praying that it won’t be absolutely heaving.
Loads of people get off and, to my amazement, a seat frees up right in front of me. I sit down with a thump and a smile, thinking that maybe fate is intervening because it’s my birthday, not that I’m celebrating tonight. The bus fills up around me and I try to ignore my growing feelings of claustrophobia as the driver rumbles away from the stop, sending the tightly packed standing passengers swaying from side to side. At that moment, I catch a glimpse of a heavily pregnant lady standing a few feet away.
My eyes dart around anxiously. There’s a young man with shortish sandy hair sitting directly in front of me in a priority space. His head is buried in a book, which is very convenient, I think with annoyance. He’s probably pretending to be oblivious when he knows full well that he should move. The elderly people in the other priority seats can’t be expected to budge.
Can he not see the rounded tummy that’s practically obscuring his vision? What a wanker.
I sigh and get to my feet. ‘Excuse me,’ I call to the pregnant woman. ‘Would you like to sit down?’ I glare pointedly at the young gent.
‘Oh, thank you!’ she exclaims with relief, practically nudging her bulge into the face of Book Boy.
With a bit of awkward manoeuvring, we swap places. All too late, he looks up and clocks what’s happening.
‘Shit, sorry!’ he exclaims, glancing over his shoulder in a panic. ‘Sit here,’ he urges the mum-to-be, snapping his book shut, but she’s already safely ensconced in my seat.
‘It’s okay,’ she replies with a beatific smile. ‘Thanks anyway.’
He nods and smiles back at her, then turns and catches my eye. His mouth falls open at my expression. ‘Sorry, I should have—’ He scrambles to his feet.
‘Forget it,’ I snap crossly. ‘I’m fine standing.’
He tentatively sits back down again, but I notice he doesn’t pick up his book for a while. I think I’ve made him feel bad. Good. He can’t get away with behaving like that, even if he is more than a bit good-looking.
A few stops later, when we’re driving through Kentish Town, the elderly lady to his right starts to get up. He smiles at me apologetically as he moves into the aisle to make room for her, then stands back so I can slide into her seat.
‘Sorry about that,’ he murmurs, as he sits back down beside me. ‘I thought you must’ve been getting off at the next stop.’
I have to concede that he does genuinely seem to feel bad.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I reply, glancing down at the novel in his hands. It’s black with what looks like a red ribbon on the front. ‘Must be a good book.’
‘Hey?’ He glances at me with confusion. He has lovely eyes, I notice. Light brown. I guess you’d call them hazel.
I nod at his lap. ‘Whatever you’re reading must be pretty captivating if you don’t notice the enormous pregnant bump in front of your face.’
‘Aah, yeah.’ He shrugs, but his hands move to obscure the cover.
‘What is it?’ I pry curiously.
He looks self-conscious, but removes his hand. ‘Er, it’s called Eclipse,’ he admits half-heartedly. ‘It’s the third book in the Twilight saga.’
‘Haven’t heard of it. What’s it about?’
‘Um, it’s about…’ He shrugs and reluctantly hands over the book to me instead of offering an explanation. I read the blurb.
‘Sorry, how old are you?’ I ask with amusement.
‘Twenty-four,’ he replies defensively, blushing slightly. ‘I kind of like YA fiction.’
I give him a blank look. ‘YA?’
‘Young adult,’ he explains, taking the book back from me. ‘This series is really good. You should check it out.’
‘I’m not really into fantasy stuff,’ I reply.
‘It’s more about the love story than the vampires and werewolves,’ he tells me before frowning. ‘God, I sound like a right twat.’
I laugh and he flashes me a sideways grin. Suddenly my stomach is jittery. ‘I bet you’d like Twilight,’ he says.
‘If you say so.’
He purses his lips. ‘I want to prove it to you, now. Where do you live?’ he asks suddenly, as the bus veers off towards Highgate. The last stop is at the bottom of Highgate West Hill, but I live at the penultimate stop, which is fast approaching.
‘Just up the road from the Bull & Last.’ I indicate the button to alert the driver to stop, but before I can lean past him, he presses it himself.
‘Me too.’ He grins at me and stands up, shoving his book into his backpack. ‘Have you got to rush home? Can I lend it to you?’
I let out a surprised laugh. ‘Do you really want to prove me wrong that badly?’
He cocks his head to one side and I follow him off the bus. He spins round to face me on the pavement, raising one eyebrow as he slings his backpack over his shoulder.
‘Okay,’ I decide on impulse. ‘Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do.’ I laugh. ‘Even though it’s my birthday…’
Just thought I’d throw that in there.
‘Is it really?’ he asks attentively. ‘How old are you? I’m just up here,’ he adds, nodding ahead.
‘Twenty-three,’ I reply.
‘Happy birthday.’ He smiles.
‘Thanks.’
‘Not going out to celebrate?’
‘Nah.’ I shake my head. ‘I’ve got plans on Saturday with some friends, and I’ve got to work tomorrow.’
‘Don’t we all.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘What do you do?’
‘I’m a teacher,’ I reply. ‘You?’
‘Advertising.’ He smiles in a cutesy bashful way that makes butterflies unfurl in my belly.
It finally occurs to me to ask what his name is.
‘Ned.’ He holds out his hand.
‘Amber,’ I reply as I shake it. His grip is firm and warm and it sends a thrill spiking up my arm.
This is so weird. This sort of thing never happens to me. I’ve just been chatted up by a gorgeous guy on a bus! Hang on, is he chatting me up? Or is he just being friendly?
‘I’m staying here.’ He points at a whitewashed Georgian terrace.
‘Nice.’
‘It looks better from the outside.’
As I begin to follow him up the wide steps to the front door, I find myself hesitating. Am I really about to enter a house with a total stranger?
‘I’ll hang here,’ I say awkwardly. I don’t suspect him of being a serial rapist, but really, what would I know?
‘Oh! Yeah, okay,’ he says quickly. ‘I’ll just be a minute.’
I shift from foot to foot as I wait for him to return, feeling increasingly stupid. I could’ve been in there. Now I’ve probably scared him off.
He wrenches the front door open and bounds down the steps towards me, handing over a thick black book. The artwork features two hands cupping a red apple.
‘Thanks.’ I smile up at him.
He’s slim and about six foot tall, at a guess. He’s dressed casually in a charcoal-grey hoodie, light-grey cords and navy Con verse trainers.
‘I guess
I’ll drop it back to you when I finish it?’ I suggest tentatively.
‘Um, well, I’m only living here temporarily,’ he replies, jamming his hands into the pockets of his top.
‘I didn’t think I’d seen you on the bus before,’ I say.
‘You haven’t been looking.’ He grins. ‘I’ve seen you.’
‘Have you?’ I balk in surprise.
‘I’m not a stalker, I swear,’ he says quickly, pulling his right hand out and almost touching my arm with it. ‘You’re just kind of hard to miss.’ He sighs and looks away, but by now I’m beaming like an idiot. ‘Fuck me, I’m sounding like a twat again,’ he mutters.
‘Do you want to come to the pub for a quick drink?’ My question spills out of my mouth so impulsively that I don’t even have time to think about it.
He returns his gaze to mine and smiles. ‘Sure.’
‘So what’s with the temporary accommodation?’ I ask as we set off back towards the gastropub on the corner.
‘I’ve only just moved to London. I’m crashing on my mate’s sofa while I flat-hunt.’
‘Where are you from?’
‘Brighton originally, but I went to university in Manchester.’
‘Cool.’
‘What about you? Are you Australian?’
‘He’s smart,’ I tease.
He smirks. ‘How long have you been over here?’
‘About five years. I’ve got a British passport, so I’m not going anywhere for a while.’
Golden light spills out of the pub’s large glass windows. Ned opens the chunky wooden door for me, ushering me into the warm interior.
‘Quick, grab that table,’ he urges. ‘What are you drinking?’ he calls, heading towards the bar.
He returns with a glass of wine for me and a bottle of beer for himself.
‘Cheers. Happy birthday.’
We chink glass and bottle and take a sip. Ned’s smiling at me when he places his beer on the table between us.
‘So, Amber,’ he starts, and I note how much I like it when he says my name. ‘What and who do you teach?’
‘Maths to GCSE and A level students,’ I reply.
His eyes widen and he nods, seemingly impressed.
‘What do you advertise and who for?’ I ask in return.
‘Christ, I can’t answer that. Anyone and anything. I’ve only just got this job, and at the moment they’ve got me coming up with ideas for a cosmetics brand.’
‘Do you get any freebies?’ I ask cheekily.
‘I’m sure I could if I wanted them,’ he replies. ‘I haven’t had anyone to give them to.’
‘No girlfriend?’ I raise one eyebrow.
He looks a bit put out. ‘Do you think I’d be here with you if I did?’
I shrug, warmth radiating outwards from the pit of my stomach.
His brow creases. ‘You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?’ he asks a touch warily.
I shake my head. ‘No.’
His shoulders sag with relief. ‘Phew.’
Drinks roll into dinner, and before I know it it’s pub closing time. He walks me back to my flat, his shoulders hunched against the freezing March air. He’s only wearing his hoodie and the wind has picked up. Even I’m shivering and I have a coat, scarf and gloves on.
‘Sorry, you should have gone straight home. You’ve got twice the distance to walk,’ I say.
‘I thought the alcohol would warm me up,’ he mutters, his teeth chattering.
‘Honestly, I’ll be fine walking from here.’
‘Shut it,’ he snaps, elbowing me.
I step closer and hook my left arm through his, rubbing his back with my other hand. Ned chuckles and leans into me and I have a sudden desire to step up onto my tiptoes and kiss his exposed neck. He glances down at me and we lock eyes for a moment.
I’m feeling incredibly edgy by the time we reach my flat. I want to invite him in for a coffee, but I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, plus I have to get up early in the morning and I’ve already drunk way too much…
‘This is me,’ I say, coming to a stop outside my red-brick 1970s apartment block. I glance at him to see that his lips are pressed together in a hard, straight line. I swear they have a blueish tinge to them.
‘Can I lend you a coat?’ I ask worriedly.
He shakes his head quickly. ‘I’ll be fine,’ he insists.
‘Just come into the lobby for a minute to warm up,’ I urge.
He nods and follows me up to the communal front door while I unlock it. I’m pretty certain now that he isn’t a serial rapist.
The door swings shut behind us with a clunk and I turn to face him. He folds his arms across his chest.
‘Jeez.’ I stare at his mouth with wide-open eyes. ‘Your lips really are blue. I’ll be gutted if you die of hypothermia before I see you again.’
He grins, but his teeth are still chattering. ‘That’s encouraging to know.’
I take off my gloves and reach up to press my knuckles against his face. ‘Damn, you’re cold.’
His hazel eyes gaze steadily at me, making my heart flutter uncontrollably.
‘What are you doing tomorrow night?’ he asks out of the blue.
‘Nothing.’ I shake my head determinedly.
‘Do you fancy going to see a movie or something?’ he asks.
‘I’d love to,’ I reply with delight, not even bothering to act cool about it.
‘Give me your number, then,’ he says.
We arrange to meet in Camden after work, then I unravel my red scarf and wrap it around his neck. ‘So you don’t die,’ I say jokily.
I jolt as he places his hands on my hips and tugs me closer.
‘I won’t die,’ he vows solemnly, and then he smiles as I tilt my face up to his.
His lips are cold, but his mouth is warm, and it is, without a doubt, the nicest first kiss I’ve ever had. My breath hitches as he draws away, and I am so close – so close – to asking him to come upstairs, but somehow I find the will to resist. I like him too much to risk throwing this away on a one-night stand.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he says with meaning, adjusting the scarf.
I watch with a dreamy smile as he pushes out through the door and hunches his shoulders against the wind.
Chapter 25
‘How’s Ned getting on at home without you?’
Tina has no idea that she’s about to open a whole can of worms.
I take a sip of my cola and stare into the depths of the fizzy, dark liquid, unsure how to respond. We’re at the pub near her work, sitting inside because it’s raining today.
‘Things are a little tense between us at the moment,’ I reply, carefully placing my glass back on the table.
She looks concerned. ‘Oh. Sorry to hear that. What’s wrong? Is it because you’ve been away for so long?’
‘That doesn’t help.’ I sigh, remembering the awfulness of our conversation on Sunday night. That was two days ago, and even though Ned convinced me that we needed to speak face-to-face before I made any more declarations involving the D word, I’m still freaked out that I even thought it. I feel like I’m losing perspective on everything.
‘We’ve had a difficult year,’ I reveal.
‘In what way?’ she prompts.
I swallow. ‘I had a miscarriage last year.’
She gasps. ‘Oh Amber, I’m so sorry. I had no idea!’
‘Not many people know. We found out at our twelve-week scan.’ I lean back in my seat and scoop my hair away from my neck, suddenly feeling a bit stuffy. ‘He was so excited about starting a family. He has three brothers and they’re all married with kids. He adores being Uncle Ned.’ My heart pinches as I stare disconsolately across the room. ‘I don’t know…’
‘What?’
‘He says he doesn’t blame me…’
‘Why would he blame you?’ she asks in confusion.
In my final year at school before I handed in my notice, I taught a rowdy class of pred
ominantly boys. They were fifteen going on sixteen and one of them in particular – Danny – developed a crush on me.
It was fine at first – he was just a bit cheeky and would compliment me on my hair or what I was wearing. I didn’t think it was that big a deal and, let’s face it, I’m no shrinking violet so I was confident I could handle it.
But after we returned from Christmas break, his attitude seemed to shift. When he looked at me, he did so with more defiance, more dominance, more aggression even. I began to feel uncomfortable.
As the weeks passed, I became aware of whispers and sniggers when I walked into the classroom or passed him and his mates at break times. The way he drawled my name – Miss – came with meaning, meaning that implied he had certain rights to me. I suspected that he was spreading rumours that we were having an affair.
I was already several weeks’ pregnant at the time and, when I confessed my suspicions to Ned, he was outraged. He wanted to go into school to give Danny an earful himself, but instead he urged me to take it to the head.
Mr Bunton, a big, bolshie man with a seemingly very high opinion of himself, had only just started and I’d taken an instant dislike to him. I didn’t want to get him involved.
Ned insisted that, at the very least, I should tell Gretchen, my flame-haired firecracker of a friend. She was also the deputy head.
But nothing serious had happened with Danny – I thought it was child’s play and would all blow over. Frankly, I was mortified and didn’t want to cause a fuss or draw unwanted attention to myself.
Then I found an anonymous note on my desk, suggesting I might like to deliver oral rewards for good work to all of my male students, and not just Danny.
I was sickened. I felt like these pupils could see through my clean-cut façade to the person I was underneath. I would have done anything to stop everyone else from finding out.
Ned hit the roof when I finally told him. He was furious at me for putting myself and my career at risk by not trying to resolve the situation sooner. Maybe his rage came from a place of love, but I was angry with him for failing to be emotionally supportive. I nearly died of embarrassment when he rang Gretchen himself.
She brought me into her office and I begged her to keep the whole thing low-key. But, to my dismay, she told me she had a duty of care towards both her staff and her pupils, and insisted on bringing in Mr Bunton.