‘Yeah.’
I turned the book over in my hands, studying it, trying to make sense of his incredibly thoughtful gifts. Opening the front cover, I saw Jake’s surprisingly neat handwriting on the first page:
‘Dear Tink,
‘After all your talk about Shakespeare, I decided to look him up for myself. I confess I didn’t know which play to choose, and I couldn’t face Romeo and Juliet, it’s just not my thing at all, but even I can sit and read through a few poems. Some of them went straight over my head, but I was especially drawn to numbers 56 and 97. And, for what it’s worth, I’m not on the market for another sister.
‘Yours, Jake
‘xXx.’
My head swam, scrambling to understand. Surely it couldn’t mean what I thought, it just couldn’t. I blinked and shook my head, but, no matter how many times I read Jake’s message, I kept coming to the same conclusion. Hope blossomed in my chest—dangerous and threatening—depriving me of air.
‘I don’t believe it,’ I murmured.
‘What does it say?’ Gemma reached for the book, but I snatched it back and closed it before she could read what was inside.
I’d forgotten she was there.
‘N-nothing,’ I stammered.
Her face fell. ‘OK, no problem. But, if there did happen to be a message in there, I promise I wouldn’t freak.’
I stared at her, trying to get a read on her mood.
‘Cross my heart,’ she said, drawing her hand across her chest, reminding me of the way we’d shared our secrets as kids.
It worked.
Wordlessly, I offered the book to her, then walked over to my bed and sank back onto it to stare up at the ceiling.
Gemma gasped, and I heard her flipping through the pages, reading the sonnets he’d highlighted, but then her next words stunned me. ‘That explains a lot.’
‘Pardon?’ I pushed up onto my elbows to see her.
‘Um … I didn’t tell you, but he finished with Danielle at my party. Right after you left, in fact.’ Gemma sank onto the bed next to me, so I ended up staring at her back. ‘He hasn’t been near another girl since.’ Her shoulders drooped even further. ‘I was blind. I knew he was hurting but I didn’t try to help.’
‘Hurting?’
‘Yeah, I think so,’ she said. ‘Jake’s been the grumpiest I’ve ever known him. And it’s like he’s avoiding me, not wanting to be in the same room as me. I know he doesn’t really hate me but …’
‘Of course he doesn’t,’ I offered.
Maybe if I focused on her and Jake, I could put off thinking about Jake and me.
‘Why don’t you read them for yourself?’ Gemma twisted at the waist and took in my blank expression. She rolled her eyes. I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed the gesture. ‘This,’ she said, tossing the book onto my stomach, practically winding me. ‘The two sonnets he picked.’
‘Oh, yeah …’
Tingles ran riot through my veins but I thumbed through the pages until I came to the first, Sonnet 56, opting to read it aloud.
Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but to-day by feeding is allay’d,
To-morrow sharpen’d in his former might:
So, love, be thou; although to-day thou fill
Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of love with a perpetual dullness.
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
Come daily to the banks, that, when they see
Return of love, more blest may be the view;
Else call it winter, which being full of care
Makes summer’s welcome thrice more wish’d, more rare.
‘Fucking hell.’ I dragged my hand through my hair and stared at the words so hard, they stopped making sense. They might as well have been in Arabic. I slipped the Tinkerbell bookmark into place and flipped through the next few pages to find Sonnet 97.
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December’s bareness every where!
And yet this time removed was summer’s time,
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
Like widow’d wombs after their lords’ decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me
But hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or, if they sing, ‘tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘You said that already. And you’ve gone a funny shade of grey, even with your tan. Sounds like he’s got it pretty bad to me.’
I didn’t have another bookmark to hand and was psyching myself up to commit the ultimate crime of turning the corner of the page down when Gemma handed me the ribbon from her gift. She knew me too well, and I couldn’t help smiling in reply.
‘Will it do?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ I laid the ribbon flat between the pages and closed the book.
‘Whatever will you say to him?’
‘Say?’ My mouth went dry. I hadn’t got that far in my thinking, too happy to stay in the denial phase.
‘Yeah, you have to give him an answer.’
‘What if I don’t believe him?’ The pressure built in my heart, beating an unsteady rhythm beneath my hand.
‘Read them again,’ Gemma demanded. I wanted to cover my eyes with my hands and hide from the exasperated look on her face but she wouldn’t let me. She grabbed my free hand and shoved the book into it.
‘No.’ I tossed the book across the room, with as much force as I’d spoken.
Gemma stared after it, then turned to face me, cocking her head as she studied me.
‘What if I don’t want to believe him?’ I wailed, flailing my arms. Against my will, I left denial and entered fear. My voice cracked and broke down into a sob. ‘What if I can’t?’
‘Lena …’ She spoke softly, as if talking to a frightened child. ‘Sweetie …’
I covered my ears with my hands to block her out. ‘La la la la la. I can’t hear you.’
Gemma exhaled on a sigh, and reached for my trembling hands. She lowered them, but kept tight hold on them to stop me from yanking them free. ‘We’re not at primary school any more, Lena,’ she scolded. ‘And Jake is in love with you whether you believe him or not.’
Omigod.
Gemma had actually said it—out loud—she’d made it all become real.
A swarm of bees suddenly came to life in my stomach, their wings fluttering like butterflies but with the threat of sharp stings if I did anything to upset them.
‘The question is,’ Gemma continued, looking me right in the eye so I had nowhere to hide, ‘are you in love with him too?’
Yes!
I wanted to scream it from the rooftops but the lump in my throat threatened to cut off my airways, slowly strangling me from the inside.
I swallowed.
‘No.’ I even shook my head, too, in the hopes it would be more convincing.
‘Bullshit.’
So much for that plan.
‘Lena, I can see it in your eyes. And, if you squeeze my hands any harder, you’re going to break every single bone. Why are you fighting it? What’s stopping you?’
I stared back into Gemma’s sad eyes and saw only Jake’s. Lost … wounded.
‘I just can’t.’ My face contorted into something I didn’t even want to think about.
Incapable of drawing a full breath, I had to make do with ragged gulps, growing more light-headed with
each one. My ribs and lungs compressed my heart until it couldn’t even beat any more for fear of being ripped open, and still it swelled, filled with hope. I collapsed against Gemma, my head landing in her lap, and I cried.
‘Shh. It’s OK.’ Gemma stroked my hair, running her hands from root to tip. ‘Everything’s going to be OK. I’ll speak to him for you and—’
‘No! You mustn’t tell him,’ I choked out between sobs. ‘Promise me you won’t tell him anything. Swear on it right now. On my life.’
‘You’re doing the wrong thing, Lena.’ Her voice quivered. ‘But—’ It cut out altogether. She sucked in a jagged breath. ‘But … I’m never going to let you down again, so I promise.’ Her teardrop splashed against my cheek, mingling with my own, and I cried even harder.
Just when I’d got used to life without either of them, Gemma and Jake were back, and they were both trying to make amends. The tears I’d been holding back for so long poured down my cheeks, the pain beyond unbearable, but it was too late. Better to nurse my broken heart now than have it destroyed beyond repair.
Chapter Twenty-Six
TINKERBELL
Jake
Jake woke up, ripped from his dream much too soon, but then his pulse spiked. He opened his eyes and stared up at the cracks in the ceiling. D-day had finally arrived. Or maybe that should be, ‘B-day had finally arrived’, since it referred to Tink’s birthday. By the end of the day, his dreams could become reality. For the past six weeks, he’d thought of nothing else, not since Nathan had come to talk over his ideas. Great in theory, but, now that the day was actually here, Jake didn’t know if he could go through with it.
This was no minor feat he was hoping to pull off: it would be a major coup. And if it went wrong? Instant humiliation, rejection, all hope lost. And what if he got his fleckerls mixed up with his contra checks? What if he forgot how to turn? What if his mind went blank altogether, and he couldn’t remember a single step? It was no wonder he’d barely had a wink of sleep. The fancy tailcoat he’d hired hung as a reminder from the clothes rail and taunted him, invading his dreams.
At least he didn’t have to go to work. He’d be a walking hazard. Or, worse, he might absent-mindedly start practising the steps. Ballroom dancing and building sites didn’t exactly go hand in hand. Director or not, he’d never live it down. No, Nathan had been absolutely right about taking the day off, but sitting around would never do. Jake didn’t do sitting around. Ever. He needed to do something physical, get some of the tension out of his system, and there was still plenty of hard graft needed on the house. Like the dividing wall between the sitting room and the dining room.
And he had just the sledgehammer for the job.
Jake was just clearing up after a fulfilling day’s graft when the doorbell rang. A little after five, he didn’t have a clue who could be calling. Jake left his now open-plan living room and went to open the front door. He discovered Nathan waiting outside, still in his work clothes, but with a suit bag hung in the back window of his car.
‘What brings you here, Nate?’ Jake asked. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Lena’s.’
‘Not until half-six,’ Nathan said. ‘Gemma warned me if I turn up any earlier I could expect to get my legs waxed for barging in on quality girl time.’
‘Ouch.’ Jake winced. ‘But that doesn’t explain why you’re here instead.’
‘First, there’s this.’ Nathan handed over a takeaway bag that Jake had somehow failed to notice. Or smell. ‘Because I had a feeling you wouldn’t bother to eat, am I right?’
Jake’s stomach growled. ‘OK, you caught me, but I haven’t been able to face food all day. I still don’t think I can stomach it.’
‘Tough, you need to eat.’ Nathan pressed the bag into Jake’s hands, not taking no for an answer, then looked Jake up and down. ‘And, judging from the state of you, I’d say you’ve knocked that wall out and built up an appetite, so it’s a good job I don’t mind eating out of the carton off my lap. Now do you want to grab a couple of forks or should I?’
‘Fine, I’ll get them.’ Jake stepped aside. ‘Come in and shut the door behind you.’
When he returned with the forks, and a couple of lap trays, Nathan was inspecting Jake’s handiwork.
‘Nice job, it really lets the light in. I wish you’d waited for me, though: I could do with swinging a hammer.’
‘Tough day at the office?’
‘Nah, just the usual,’ Nathan said flatly. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’
‘OK, if you’re sure. So what was second?’
‘Second?’
‘If food was the first thing, there must be a second.’
‘Oh, yeah, got ya.’ Nathan perked up and scooped up a forkful full of curry. ‘I wanted to make sure you weren’t bottling out.’
Fuck.
Jake’s blood ran cold and he froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. ‘Am I that transparent?’
Nathan offered a half-smile. ‘I was right again then, huh? So what’s freaking you out the most?’
‘How about everything?’ Jake let the fork fall back into the foil carton. ‘Making a fool of myself, looking like a glorified penguin, cocking up the dance, Lena’s reaction—’
‘Whoa, steady on.’ Nathan held up his hand. ‘Which would you rather? Risk looking like a dick—’
‘Gee, thanks.’
‘—or, risk losing Lena altogether?’ Nathan continued. ‘’Cause you’d be walking away from the best damned opportunity you’re gonna get, you know that, right?’
Jake swallowed. ‘Well, when you put it like that …’
‘So let’s look at what you can control. You’re not going to look like a glorified penguin, or rather, you won’t be the only one looking like a glorified penguin. I’m in tails too, as is Lena’s dad.’ Nathan was on a roll. ‘Also, you’ve been having dance lessons for weeks. You’ll be fine. But, if you’re really worried about it, you can practise now if you want. There’s room now that you’ve knocked the wall out if you push the sofas to the outside.’
‘Nice idea, but who with?’
‘What do you mean, who with? Me, of course, you idiot.’
‘You?’
‘Why not?’
Jake laughed once—a harsh laugh. ‘How about the fact we’d both be trying to lead?’
‘Bollocks. I can do the girl’s steps, it’ll be fine.’
‘Are you asking me to dance, Nate?’
‘Not if you’re going to be a complete twat about it.’ Nathan looked affronted. ‘Don’t tell me you’re a closet homophobe after all.’
‘Of course I’m not.’
‘I don’t fancy you, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
Jake was seriously on the back foot, scrabbling for firmer footing, but then Nathan smirked. The bastard was a complete wind-up merchant. No wonder he fitted in so well on site.
‘Nope, it never even crossed my mind,’ Jake said, fighting to keep a straight face. ‘Although, come to think of it, you do look kinda cute in your overalls.’
‘Look, dude, if you try to kiss me, I will break your nose.’
Jake lost the battle, the laugh bursting out of his chest. ‘Works for me, but can I finish my curry first?’ Nathan agreed, but dinner was over far too soon. ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ Jake mumbled, as the sound of classical music filled the room.
‘Do you mind shutting the curtains?’ Nathan said, clicking through to find the right track. ‘I’m not ready to come out just yet, and something tells me I’d have a hard time explaining why I was waltzing with another guy.’
‘Shit, yeah, good idea.’ Jake blocked out any potential spectators, then turned around from the window and saw Nathan move into frame position in the centre of the room. ‘The work boots really complete the look you know, but I hope to God you don’t stand on my toes in them.’
‘Enough stalling and get over here, twinkle toes. I’ve gotta go soon.’
The right song started up,
so Jake quickly crossed the floor to square up against Nathan, almost eye to eye, which really messed with Jake’s brain but, before he could change his mind, Nathan moved into closed-hold position.
‘This is probably the first time I’ve held hands with a guy since I was about six.’
‘Concentrate,’ Nathan said. He looked serious. ‘Pretend I’m Lena if it helps. Actually, no, make it Gemma, so you don’t get carried away.’
‘Right. Gemma. Yeah …’
Jake fought to block out the knowledge that he was dancing up close and personal with a guy. It was easier than he imagined, and Nathan turned out to be very light on his feet, even though he was dancing the less familiar girl’s steps. Four minutes later Jake was panting for air but feeling triumphant.
‘Nice moves, Jake. You’re going to sweep Lena off her feet, especially with those underarm turns, but how about throwing in some kind of big finale.’
‘Got any ideas?’
‘As it happens, yes.’
Jake’s smile grew wider as Nathan explained his plan, even demonstrating it and then letting Jake practise it a couple of times, but then Nathan’s alarm on his phone went off.
‘Right, I’ll see you at the party,’ he said. ‘Eight o’clock. Don’t let me down, Jake.’
‘I won’t. Thanks, Nate.’
‘Just get the girl, and then I can have two happy friends instead of two downright miserable ones.’
‘Hey—’
‘Must dash.’ Nathan ran out of the front door towards his car before Jake could finish his sentence. ‘Oh, and Lena’s in purple, just in case you needed to know,’ Nathan called back over his shoulder.
‘Purple. Right … thanks.’
Jake closed the door and went back into the living room to pull all the furniture back into place before he went up for a shower. He was just dragging the second sofa away from the wall when the doorbell went again. Without bothering to check out of the window, he went straight back to the front door and pulled it open.
‘Did you forget someth—’ He’d expected to see Nathan but a little old woman stood on his doorstep instead. ‘Nanna? What brings you out here?’
‘Hello, Jake, dear. I won’t stop, the taxi’s waiting for me,’ she said, barging past him and into the hallway. ‘I just wanted to check you were coming to Valentina’s party?’
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