‘It’s so good to see you as well,’ I said. And in saying so, everything suddenly caught up with me. The morning had come now and with it, reality. And the future. A scary, scary place. What now?
‘Forgive me,’ I went on, ‘if it seems like it’s not good, but I’m afraid I’m going to burst into tears now. Have you got a hankie or something?’
He reached across to another table and plucked a handful of napkins from a holder.
‘I’m sorry,’ I sniffed. ‘I’m sorry, but – God, what now, Nick? What happens now?’
There was so much tenderness in his eyes that if I hadn’t already been sobbing I would have started up. ‘What happens now,’ he said, handing the napkins to me, ‘is that I put my arms round you and hold you very tight and don’t mind in the least that you make a mess all over my shirt, and then you blow your nose and then we talk. Deal?’
Which made me laugh, but then weep all the more. ‘But your flight!’ I snivelled, burying my head as directed and wondering how I’d ever manage to let him go again. ‘Nick, what about your flight?’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, aren’t you going to miss it? It’s getting on for six –’
He shook his head.
‘Oh, I changed it last week. I don’t fly till a quarter to eight. They screwed up in travel. Had me routed via Amsterdam, for some bizarre reason. So we have a while at least, don’t we? Though I guess you need to be in work in a couple of hours anyway, and you still have to take Merlin home.’
‘But what can we say?’ I said, scrumpling the napkins in a ball against his chest. ‘Nick, what do we do?’
He considered for a moment. ‘Well,’ he said finally, ‘the way I see it is that right off I tell you I love you more than you can possibly imagine and all the while I’m pinching myself because three hours ago I thought you’d broken my heart and then I tell you to pinch me as well – just to be certain – and then – this bit happens kind of naturally – we kiss and we hold each other and you tell me everything’s OK now and that I’m not dreaming this and that you do love me and that we’re going to be together after all, and then I tell you again – just in case you hadn’t heard the first time – just how very much I love you, and then we kiss a bit more and then I tell you again. We sort of keep on in that vein till a sunset fetches up. And then we go off and live happily ever after. That kind of stuff. It’s all pretty standard. Corny, but standard. I’m sure we’ll get the hang of it.’
Which made me weep even more. I was weeping fairly uncontrollably by now.
‘Well?’ he prompted. I couldn’t speak. ‘That’s, like, your cue? Jeez, Sally, I don’t know. Really I don’t. I come all this way – ‘
‘Down a hotel corridor.’
‘Down a long hotel corridor. And have drunk enough coffee to keep me awake till mid-August –’
‘Oh, God, I do love you, Nick. I love you so much that I when I think I was this close –’I put my finger and thumb together ‘– this close to letting you go the thought scares me like you wouldn’t even begin to believe. But how dare you make me laugh at a time like this! Nick, I can’t just up and go and live thousands of miles away. I can’t. There’s Kate and Morgan, and my mum, and Merlin, and – and there’s, well, Jonathan to think of too. There’s so much to sort out. I can’t just –’I gripped his shirt front. ‘And I can’t ask you to either. What about Will? I mean – ‘
He pulled away slightly and looked sternly back at me. ‘Six hours fifty five minutes.’
I sniffed. ‘What?’
‘Is the average flying time between Boston and San Diego.’
I sniffed again. ‘Boston?’
‘Will’s at Harvard, remember? On the other hand –’ he dropped his arms from my shoulders now and took both my hands in his. ‘The average flying time between Boston and Heathrow – you can’t fly into Gatwick from Boston, but I made an allowance for driving time, OK? – is only six hours twenty five minutes.’
I stared at him. ‘You worked all that out?’
He nodded, a touch bashfully. ‘As you do. Got to have something to occupy your mind when you’re lying in bed night after night unable to sleep because you’ve fallen in love with someone who is married and lives on a different continent to you. It’s a fairly intractable problem.’
‘You mean you’d come back here? You mean, for good? I mean, with him being there, and –’
‘Sally, that’s my whole point! He’ll be nearer. Not in miles perhaps, but practically speaking he will. For the next fours years at least. And, well, I didn’t want to bring this up, but my mother’ll be pleased. She’s been in a mood with me since 1982. You’ll like my mother, Sally. My mother will certainly love you.’
‘But what about your career?’
‘I guess I opt for the HR job here after all.’
‘Just like that?’
‘No. Not just like that. Sally, I never turned it down, you know. I’m only going on vacation right now. Nothing’s sorted yet.’
‘On vacation?’ I squeaked. ‘But your flat –’
‘Is still there, dingbat. Look, the plan was that I would look at what’s on offer over there, sort out my domestic situation, and – well. It’s decided now, isn’t it?’ He pulled a blade of grass from my fringe and kissed my forehead. ‘You’ve decided it for me. So you’ll go off to work, and I’ll go get my plane, and we can talk every day – and before we know it, I’ll be back.’
‘How long will you be gone?’
‘Two weeks? Say three. Three weeks, at the most. Do you think you can wait for three weeks?’
‘I’ve been waiting every week of my life for you, Nick,’ I said gravely. ‘I think I can manage another three.’
He pulled something from his pocket and slipped it into my hand.
‘Guess I won’t be needing this after all, then,’ he said.
I looked down at the little jar of Marmite I’d sent him. A warm black nugget in my palm. ‘So you got it –’
‘I got it. Though I have to say it’ll be a relief not to have to sneak it past customs. I spent an hour being grilled at Newark once on the strength of a crummy packet of Oxo cubes. Tell you what,’ he said. ‘Save it till the day I get back. We can have it on toast.’ He chuckled. ‘It can be a toast to us.’
I winced in his arms.
‘Ruth was right,’ I said. ‘You should have a licence.’
He laughed. ‘Can’t be helped. And you should worry. Sometimes I burst into song.’
‘Best not. Don’t want you getting arrested.’ Oh, God. So little time. Perhaps I should arrest him myself. I tightened my grip on the back of his jacket. ‘Oh, Nick. I wish we had longer.’
‘So do I, so do I.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘But we don’t. Twenty past six. And I’m boarding at seven. So we’d better crack on.’ He pulled me tight against him now, chasing all the horrors away. I buried my face in his shoulder, drinking in the scent of him. ‘Sally,’ he said, stroking my hair now, ‘I love you so much. More than you can possibly imagine. I love you so much I – yeeow!! Jeez! What was that?’
Morning had come but all the stars had stayed out for us. I lifted my face from his shoulder.
‘Your pinch,’ I said, knowing I could embrace the day as well now. ‘Come on then, Nick. Get your act together, will you? That was supposed to be your cue…’
THE END
Lynne Barrett-Lee
Lynne Barrett-Lee is the author of four novels and has also been selected to be part of the new Quick Reads Initiative with her book, Secrets.
Lynne lives in Cardiff with her husband and three children.
For more information please visit
www.lynnebarrett-lee.com
ith friends
Straight on Till Morning Page 35