The Not So Perfect Plan to Save Friendship House: An uplifting romantic comedy

by Lilly Bartlett

  Seth and I walked together to his car. I felt pretty wobbly, but concentrating on staying on my feet kept me from thinking more about Nick. Obviously, he was miffed that I wasn’t going on with them later, but how could I? I could barely keep my eyes open.

  The first wave of sickness washed over me just as Seth pulled away from his parking spot. We hadn’t gone a mile before I started to worry that I was going to be sick.

  ‘Seth, I don’t feel well.’

  ‘Uh-oh.’ He slammed on the brakes, which rocketed my queasiness to the front of the queue. ‘Just let me pull over.’

  ‘Sorry… it’s the car.’ I took big gulps of fresh air at my window. ‘I’ll be okay. Just give me a minute.’

  ‘Would you feel better walking?’

  ‘It’s more than thirty miles!’

  He laughed. ‘I didn’t mean you walking home! Crikey, what kind of a bloke do you think I am? I only meant having a walk outside. There’s a little park. Hang on, stay there.’

  He went around to my side to open the door. What chivalry! Or else self-preservation to get the sick woman off his upholstery.

  I was glad, as we walked slowly along the park path under the tall old-fashioned lamps, that Seth did the talking. He told me about when he and Nick first became friends, rooming together at uni, and a little about his job working as a sports physio. He had a nice Midlands accent that washed easily over me.

  ‘Feeling better?’ he wondered.

  ‘I think so.’ But I dreaded getting into that shaky-shaky car again.

  As if reading my thoughts, he said, ‘My flat’s not far, if you’d rather not risk travelling home tonight. I’ve got room.’

  I looked at him then, with the light glinting off his blond hair, which had only gone madder over the course of dinner. Something passed between us. I understood that he was offering two things: the safe option, and the not safe one. I didn’t make my choice right then, but I did make my decision to have a choice.

  ‘If that’s okay, yes,’ I told Seth.

  Why would I want to do that, given how I felt about Nick? It’s not an easy answer to get my head around either, but I can’t completely blame the sedatives or wine. Hurt played a big part too. Nick sounded pretty willing to believe I’d jump into bed with his friend, so what must he think of me? I was stung by the unfairness. I’d never given him any reason for doubt, but if he was indicting me anyway, then why not give myself the option?

  Talk about cutting off my nose to spite my face.

  There was some spite as well. I wanted to punish him for thinking that of me.

  That’s so unflattering, but there is no use sugar-coating it.

  Seth didn’t quicken his pace as we made our way back to the car. I must have, though, because I got there ahead of him.

  It was only a few minutes to his flat.

  ‘I’m sorry it’s a mess,’ Seth said as he let us into the Victorian flat. The bare floorboards creaked as we stepped inside. It was a bit untidy – a few tea mugs on the glass-and-chrome coffee table and some clothes in one corner of the brown leather sofa – but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. My brother was the only bloke I knew who kept a perfectly neat flat, but then he would because he’s so uptight. ‘Cup of tea? I’ve got regular and green.’

  ‘I won’t, if that’s okay,’ I said. ‘In case it doesn’t agree with me.’

  ‘Fine with me,’ he said, gesturing to the sofa. When I sat, the cushion farted.

  ‘That wasn’t me!’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I should have warned you that it does that. Rude sofa. But what’s a little couch parping between friends?’

  The way he was looking at me, he wasn’t thinking about furniture noises. Neither was I. The (reach-acrossable) space between us crackled with electricity. Had we been like this all evening? I was having trouble remembering the dinner clearly. We’d definitely had the banter down pat, and laughed a lot, but someone would have thrown a drink over us if sparks like this had flown over the table. So, I was pretty sure that the tension only ramped up when we were alone in the car.

  I stifled a huge yawn, but Seth caught it. ‘I should get you to bed,’ he said. A smirk played across his lips.

  Again, we locked eyes, as I smiled back at him. Was it an invitation? That’s the moment I’ve replayed about a million times, that split second between Nothing to see here and Please look away now.

  I know I leaned towards him. I know this because I remember thinking that I’d face-plant into his lap if he didn’t meet me in the middle.

  He did meet me in the middle. His lips were full and soft, his kiss so deliciously slow. He puckered first to break the kiss, then pressed his lips to mine more urgently, again slowly, again breaking off before moving in more deeply. Those were proper last-scene-in-a-film kisses and I was light-headed with the sexiness of it all.

  It seemed to go on for hours but despite the urgency, Seth didn’t hurry to take things any further. Which was fine with me. Kissing without expectations is way underrated. Not that I speak with much authority, but with everyone live-streaming porn every second of the day, I think a good old-fashioned snogging session has fallen out of favour.

  Seth definitely appreciated the finer points of a good snog.

  ‘I could do this all night,’ he said, ‘but I’m guessing you’re tired?’

  I had to nod, though it might mean an end to that fabulous kissing.

  ‘Should we go upstairs?’ he asked.

  ‘We?’ Maybe it didn’t mean an end to the kissing.

  ‘So I can show you where everything is?’ He took my hand to help me up from the sofa.

  What followed was a disappointingly chaste tour of Seth’s upstairs.

  ‘Well, it’s pretty straightforward,’ he said, switching on the lamp beside his bed. ‘Sorry, the bed’s not made. Here, turn around for a sec.’

  I did and heard him flapping the duvet over the mattress. ‘Okay, that’s a little better.’ He took me by the shoulders and turned me back into the room.

  But he didn’t let go. ‘So, you’re welcome to sleep here.’ He was giving me that look again. I knew what question he wanted me to ask.

  I played my part. ‘Where will you sleep?’

  ‘I can take the sofa, or…’

  ‘I feel bad kicking you out of your own bed. We’re adults. We could share.’

  ‘We could,’ he said. ‘I’m good at sharing.’

  I’d bet he was good at a lot of things. ‘You get a gold star,’ I said drowsily as I flopped on the bed. Full of poise, that’s me. ‘God, this feels good.’ I meant lying down, with the fluffy pillows under my head. I was already starting to nod off.

  The last thing I remember was Seth crawling in beside me. ‘G’night,’ he said, softly kissing my lips. Oh, those lips. I’d have snogged his face off if I wasn’t so delirious with tiredness.

  When I woke up, I was on the opposite side of the bed to the door. I must have crept in the night. Poor Seth probably had to climb over me at some point to get a clear spot in the bed.

  He snored softly beside me with one arm thrown over his eyes against the early morning light coming through the flimsy curtains.

  Moving slowly so as not to wake him, or jostle my splitting headache, I lifted my head to look for my jeans. Because I couldn’t help but notice that they weren’t on my legs.

  I spotted them folded neatly on the black swivel office chair next to Seth’s desk. I did have a vague memory of taking them off when I got too hot under the heavy duvet. So at least I’d undressed myself.

  The other thing I spotted on Seth’s desk was the framed photo. Either that was his girlfriend, or he was very close to his sister.

  ‘Um, Seth?’ I shook him. ‘I’m really sorry to do this to you, but I’ve got to go to work. In Framlingham.’

  He took a deep breath with his eyes still closed. ‘You’re killing me, Phoebe.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I didn’t plan on the diversion to our journey last night.�
�� I swung my legs over the side of the bed and scooted, half crouched out of view, towards my jeans. ‘I could try to take a bus or something, but I don’t know where I am.’

  Then he opened his eyes and smiled, reaching out for me. ‘Of course you’re not taking a bus. I’ll drive you. Can you give me five minutes to have a shower?’

  But I didn’t feel like flopping back into bed with him. Especially not with his girlfriend right there looking on. ‘Okay, I just need to be back by about nine-thirty. We’ve got time.’ Everything sounded like an innuendo, and that was the last thing I wanted.

  What had I done? ‘This is bad, Seth.’

  Seth sat straight up. ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, because of Nick, for one thing. I mean, I went to the supper club with him last night, and I ended up with you.’ At least I had the sense to realise that in the cold light of day. Even if it was too late.

  ‘But you’re not— I mean, Nick isn’t… I’m sorry, Phoebe, but Nick never mentioned you in that way. He told me you were a cool colleague who loved food. If he’d even hinted about liking you, then I’d never have brought you back here. You might not believe me, but I do have some morals.’

  Which didn’t seem to extend to being faithful to his girlfriend. ‘We’re not… I mean, Nick isn’t my boyfriend or anything.’ And now, thanks to me, he never would be.

  ‘Just to check,’ Seth said, looking really worried. ‘I didn’t misread the situation, did I, or do anything you didn’t want me to? Because I’d— That would be…’

  ‘No, no, not at all. I’m not blaming you for anything, really I’m not. This was me not thinking.’ Mum’s words were ringing in my head. You’re not thinking of your future. She always did have terrible timing, but, in this case, I had to agree. My future was the last thing I’d been thinking about last night.

  As Seth went into the bathroom, I had to stifle my panic. I’d ruined everything with Nick and I couldn’t even blame anyone but my own stupid self. Sure, drinking wine while on sedatives was the definition of unclever, but I hadn’t done anything I didn’t want to. Seth was hot, and nice, attentive and obviously – based on the photo on his desk – good boyfriend material. If it wasn’t for Nick, then I’d probably be strategically hiding my purse or my keys down the back of his sofa just to make sure I had an excuse to see him again.

  Oh, you so would too.

  But I couldn’t do that because Nick was in the picture, at least as far as my feelings went, and I wasn’t going to see Seth again. Even though I’d ruined everything with Nick and probably had no chance with him, either.

  Dear NHS: you should have included ‘Don’t kiss crush’s best friend’ on your warning list.

  Plus, there was the not-very-small matter of Seth’s girlfriend. Oh, the guilt, the guilt! If I’d known about her, then even in my sedative-addled state, I wouldn’t have done anything. I owed more respect to the sisterhood. So not only did I let myself down. I let down my whole gender. I’m sorry.

  I didn’t even wait for Seth to put his pants on. ‘I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,’ I said as he came back with a bath towel wrapped around his waist. ‘That’s not cool.’

  He followed my eyes to the desk. ‘She’s not really my girlfriend. We see each other sometimes.’

  I scrutinised their beachy faces. Those were the smiles of people on a romantic break together. Ones who definitely weren’t sleeping in separate beds. ‘You see each other sometimes? When, on holiday?’

  Seth shrugged. ‘Is that a problem? Last night was just a bit of fun, Phoebe. Nothing really happened. And, honestly, she’s not my girlfriend. I wouldn’t do that.’ He pulled boxers on under his towel and shrugged into a tee shirt. ‘I wouldn’t play away on someone I really liked.’ On went his jeans. ‘I’m not that kind of person.’

  But, clearly, I was. And none of last night was even the slightest bit against my will. It was my will. At one point a little voice had whispered, This isn’t a good idea. But then another voice said, Are you kidding? Look at this guy!

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. You did nothing wrong. Could I use some of your toothpaste? Then I’m ready to go.’

  We didn’t talk much on the ride back to Framlingham. I was too busy trying to come to terms with just how badly I’d screwed everything up. By the time I reached work, I’d come up with a plan. I hadn’t technically done anything wrong, I reminded myself about a million times. Yes, okay, it wasn’t clever to snog my crush’s best friend, but Nick didn’t know I’d done it. Maybe I wouldn’t have to tell him the details.

  But I did have to tell him about staying over at Seth’s. Nick might have doubted my moral code, and that still hurt, but I wasn’t about to lie to him outright.

  ‘Hi, sorry I didn’t text when I got home,’ I said when I got into the kitchen to find Nick leaned against the worktop sipping his tea. ‘I didn’t feel well in the car, so Seth let me stay at his flat.’ There. Straight and to the point. A perfectly grown-up, unguilty explanation. That didn’t sound so bad.

  ‘I know.’ He took another sip and rooted around in the biscuit pack. ‘I talked to him.’

  A chill ran down my spine. ‘You did? When?’

  ‘It was late. I hadn’t heard from you and you weren’t picking up. So I rang Seth to make sure you got home okay.’

  ‘But… I was with Seth. I’d have heard his phone. What did he say?’

  Nick shook his head. ‘You were upstairs when I rang.’

  Oh, the judgment in that one word: upstairs. In Seth’s bed, he meant. And I couldn’t deny it. Instead of staying with nice thoughtful Nick who’d invited me out in the first place, I’d gone off and snogged his fit friend.

  ‘I misjudged you, Phoebe,’ he said. ‘Last night wasn’t cool. I think you know that.’

  ‘I do, Nick, I’m so sorry!’ I could blame the sedatives or the wine or the full moon or PMT or whatever excuse I wanted. I’d done it and Nick had every right to be angry.

  Nick’s eyes didn’t leave mine. ‘Sorry because you did it, or sorry because I know you spent the night with my friend? Tell the truth.’

  ‘Both,’ I said. ‘But nothing happened!’

  ‘Nothing?’ His voice dared me to lie.

  He flinched when I said, ‘Nothing… much. I’m sorry, Nick.’

  Then he shrugged. ‘You’re an adult. You’re free to do what you like.’

  ‘I won’t see him again, you know.’

  ‘That’s none of my business, Phoebe, and I’d rather not hear about it, okay? I’ll see you later.’ He emptied the rest of his tea down the sink and put the cup into the dishwasher.

  Unfortunately, even knowing how conclusively I’ve wrecked everything hasn’t stopped my feelings from getting stronger as we’ve worked together. And now you know why those feelings are hopeless. We’ve never mentioned that night or Seth again, and I haven’t seen or talked to Seth, either. Nick is perfectly friendly and acts like nothing happened, which is probably more than I deserve. But I’m afraid the spark he felt – that I’m sure I didn’t imagine – has been snuffed out, thanks to me.

  Chapter 10

  ‘It’s nice to see someone’s love life going well,’ I tell June as I watch her apply lipstick in front of the loo mirror. She’s found the perfect berry colour to offset her blondeness. On me it looked like I’d bruised my lip. It’s no wonder I don’t bother.

  She knows that’s not me talking sour grapes. My grapes are as sweet as a treacle tart. What happened with Nick was months ago now. Yes, it was a monster of a mistake, as humiliating as anything I’ve ever been through. And that’s coming from someone whose mother raised public shaming to an Olympic sport. Like I said, Nick hasn’t mentioned it again, and neither have I.

  I’m getting over it.

  At most, it’s only a niggling bother that I forget about for days at a time. Sort of like a toothache. You may know you’ve had it, and you may even remember which side it was on, but it’s nearly impossible to reconjure the actual
pain.

  At worst, it’s a dull ache that you vaguely recall when you bite down wrong on something hard. No more than a sharp reminder that it was once excruciating (and, thank goodness, isn’t it better now?).

  Mind you, there is a kind of stabbing pain every so often. It’s not all the time. Say, only when you eat ice cream, though then it’s enough to make you howl. But nobody eats ice cream all the time, do they, so it’s bearable. Or it would be, if you didn’t also have cold drinks, and hot ones and have to eat three meals a day and then you find you’re remembering that pain in forensic detail all the time.

  All right, maybe I’m not over it quite yet. But I am happy for June and Callum. ‘When’s he due?’ I ask her.

  They’re going to a country pub that serves amazing food. It’s in a gorgeous village that was in the Domesday Book. Callum has done well this time. He shouldn’t get too cocky, though, because I don’t think he’s in the clear yet. This is no time to pop the champagne, but June’s battle plan seems to be moving into a new phase. She’s even been returning his calls.

  ‘He’s probably here already,’ she says, slipping her make-up bag back into her tote. She can’t keep the smile off her face. ‘The table is for seven, but he wants to have a drink in the garden first.’ Her expression turns bashful. ‘I’m starting to think this is a real thing. I mean, it has potential now, right?’ She takes a deep breath. ‘That scares the shite out of me.’

  ‘You can’t let it, June! You’re going to sabotage things if you do. Take it from someone who knows about that. Callum is a great bloke, and you’re nuts about him, right?’

  She nods. ‘But I don’t want to say it out loud in case I tempt fate.’

  ‘Fate’s got other things to worry about,’ I tell her. ‘I really think it’s okay. Callum likes you and you like him. We don’t usually get both, so enjoy it when it happens.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ she says. ‘Yes, I’ll try.’