If We're Not Married by Thirty

by Anna Bell

  ‘Me?’ I say, totally bowled over.

  ‘Yes, I’ve watched you over the years with Olivia and you’re such a wonderful aunt and I know that you’d make a wonderful godmother too.’

  ‘I’m so touched. I’d be honoured,’ I say, as she throws her arms around me. I haven’t told Caroline that I’m moving up to the Lake District yet, but I can’t imagine that it’s going to change things, is it? I’m sure it isn’t a prerequisite of being a godparent that you live nearby.

  ‘Matt’s going to be thrilled. We did toy with asking his cousin Gemma, but she lives all the way down in Cornwall and we wanted someone who’s actually going to be involved in his life, you know.’

  Oh, crap. Now’s the time to tell her, but as she squeezes my hand she looks so pleased and I’m so happy that she asked. Besides, everyone knows that in this day and age godparents don’t do much other than buy an extra birthday present, do they?

  Lucy comes back from the bar and immediately launches into telling us about her day at work and a couple of minutes later Rob comes back over with the quiz sheet in his hands.

  ‘This is the winning paper right here, guys. I can feel it,’ he says, sitting back down.

  I’m really going to miss our regular Tuesday pub quiz. I can’t help but feel a little down at the thought that I’m not going to be here every week.

  But it’s not only finding another quiz, it’s my friends. As they take the piss out of each other and laugh, in that easy-going way that comes from long friendships, I feel sad that I’m going to have to start from scratch all over again.

  It’s funny, as it’s only a night out in what used to be our local pub, but it’s only dawning on me now how much of life I’ve taken for granted. Danny’s got a tough job at the weekend to convince me that where he lives is better than here.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Start spreading the news, I’m leaving today. Oh wait, that’s what I should have written when I was going to New York, not when I was leaving it. Sorry I haven’t been able to email with more details about the move but I can finally reveal I’m going into business with my mate Gaz. (Think you met him when you visited me in London that time?) I can’t believe that I’m going off the advice of a $10 psychic but the future she told me of sounded pretty good. Also, she sold key rings with fake rabbit’s feet, which I thought would be right up your street. Hope it brings you luck!

  Parcel containing fake rabbit’s foot;

  Danny to Lydia, May 2017

  I step out of the car after six and a half hours and I’m walking like I’ve run the London marathon. I stopped briefly three times – once to buy a jumbo coffee to keep me alert and the other two times to pee as a result of it. But I’ve made it. It’s 10.30 p.m. but I’m actually here. I’m seconds from seeing my Danny, or maybe minutes, depending how long it takes my aching muscles to get to the front door.

  The door flies open and he comes to me, which is even better. If he suggests this time that he needs to carry me over the threshold I’m all for it.

  ‘Hey, you,’ he says wrapping his arms around me.

  ‘Hey,’ I say, burying myself in his chest. I want us to stay like this forever, but it’s bloody cold and I can see the bright lights of his house calling to me. He must have read my mind as he pulls my hand and leads me inside.

  ‘I’ll get your bag for you. Go on upstairs, the fire’s on in the lounge.’

  I slowly walk up the two flights, my muscles loosening with every step. I push open the door and it feels like I’ve come home. The fire is blasting and the heat hits me immediately. The lights are down low and it’s more hygge than I’ve ever managed to achieve.

  Danny follows me in and he’s carrying a large tray of nibbles.

  ‘I know you said you’d eat at lunch, but I thought you might be hungry now.’

  I stare at the crackers and cheese, olives, sun-dried tomatoes and charcuterie meat and I feel as if I’m in heaven.

  ‘I was going to say I’m not hungry, but my stomach is saying otherwise.’ As if on cue it growls angrily at me.

  ‘Drink?’ he says, holding up a bottle of red, and I nod. ‘So was the traffic bad?’

  ‘No, it was OK. I took the M6 toll so that saved me a bit of time. It is a long drive though.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he says nodding. ‘It would be tough if we had to do it forever, but at least we know it’s only going to be a few weeks, right?’ he says leaning over and giving me a kiss.

  ‘Just a few weeks.’

  Twenty-five weeks can count as a few, can’t they? But even twenty-five weeks seems too few as, over the last few days, it’s continued to dawn on me what I’m giving up. It’s not just my job but Kerry, Jim and Olivia, Mum, Lucy, Rob, Caroline and Ross.

  I keep trying to tell myself that I’m being ridiculous. People move around all the time. There’s always FaceTime. Besides, how often do you fall in love? I mean properly earth-shatteringly in love. This is once in a lifetime. I can’t ignore it.

  ‘You OK?’ asks Danny, stroking my leg.

  ‘Just tired.’

  He pulls me in for a hug.

  ‘We’ll eat this and have an early night, if you like?’

  ‘That sounds lovely. Although I’m guessing it’s not going to be that early is it?’ I say, my fingertips creeping under his belt line.

  ‘I’m guessing not,’ he says, leaning over to kiss me gently.

  ‘I don’t even think I’m that hungry after all,’ I say between kisses. ‘But I am ready for bed.’

  ‘OK, then,’ he purrs. ‘I’ll just put the sausage in the fridge.’

  ‘Well, that’s romantic,’ I say, thinking I’ve never heard it called that before.

  ‘I just don’t want it to go off,’ he says picking it up, ‘it was from a fancy deli in town.’

  ‘Oh, you meant the meat,’ I say, laughing at myself.

  ‘What did you think I meant? Lydia, that filthy mind of yours. One of the many reasons why I love you,’ he says, pulling me to standing as he takes the tray downstairs.

  ‘One of them. And what are the other reasons?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that now. What would I say in our vows?’

  ‘Don’t tell me we’re going off book?’

  He has a twinkle in his eye and he cackles as he walks down into the kitchen.

  ‘I thought the whole point of having a quickie wedding was to take away the stress. Writing our own vows is definitely a stress.’

  He’s still laughing as he deposits everything in the fridge.

  ‘Come on,’ he says, grabbing my hand. ‘Let’s get the other sausage in the fridge.’

  I laugh and follow him downstairs.

  *

  Danny gets out of bed early the next morning to make us a cup of tea. It’s a serious downside of not living in a tiny studio flat, as in mine I can lean out and pretty much make a cup without having to get my feet out of the cosy warm bed. But it’s Danny rather than me who’s up, so I make the most of having the bed to myself and make starfish bed angels as I snuggle in. Man, this bed is comfy. This is reason enough for moving up here alone. It’s definitely not the budget IKEA model that mine is.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he says, looking at me as if I’m nuts.

  ‘Bed angels. You know, like snow angels, but in the sheets. You should try it. But not now,’ I say, as he snuggles in, ‘when you’re on your own, or else you’d tip me out.’

  ‘You’re weird, Lydia Stoker, you know that?’

  ‘I do. And luckily you do, too,’ I say sitting up and taking my cup of tea. We sit there in companionable silence for a moment and I wonder if we could stay like this all day – it’s perfect – but I know Danny’s probably got the whole day planned. ‘I’m looking forward to doing some sightseeing.’

  I’m picturing a tour of all the little tearooms in the area, sampling the cakes, pottering around the touristy shops. I’ve got tingles just thinking about how perfect that sounds.

  ‘Yeah, we’d better
get a wriggle on, or else we’ll be late.’

  I blow on my tea to cool it down more quickly so that I can drink it. ‘I can’t wait. So what’s first up, breakfast somewhere?’

  ‘Um, we’ll probably have to grab something here. I’ll make us bacon sandwiches whilst you shower.’

  ‘Oh, OK. So where’s up first?’ I ask, noticing that he’s acting a bit shifty.

  ‘You’ll see.’

  ‘Am I going to like it?’ I ask. He’s not usually so cagey and it makes me think I’m going to hate it.

  ‘Um, I think so.’

  That doesn’t sound convincing.

  ‘Am I going to be sailing through the air again?’ That doesn’t hold the same appeal in this weather.

  ‘No, definitely not airborne.’

  ‘Any other clues?’

  He shakes his head, downs his tea (and probably burns his throat).

  ‘I’m going to grab a quick shower. And then you can have a quick one. No need to wash your hair today.’

  I run my hand through my curls. I wash my hair almost every day to get rid of the halo of frizz that builds up. Danny knows that and now I’m worried about where we’re going.

  I look out of the window and up over at the fells, wondering if I’m going to be spending the day hiking. I look at the rain running down the window pane and I hope that I’ve got it all wrong.

  After my shower I’m handed a plate with a bacon sarnie dripping with ketchup. Danny then steers me into the bedroom where he’s replaced the jeans and jumper on the bed that I’d laid out to wear with thick walking trousers and a fleece.

  I look up at him for an explanation.

  ‘You wanted to see the best of the Lake District. Unfortunately, there’s more to it than tea shops.’

  ‘Are you sure about that, as I’ve heard otherwise,’ I say, as I bite into my sandwich. He’s good, distracting me with food when he’s dropping a bomb shell.

  ‘Don’t worry, you’re not going to be in these all day,’ he says with a wink, and I start to relax. I guess a little bit of hiking followed by a tearoom would be OK. It’s not like I have an aversion to the great outdoors, and I’m not going to melt in the rain, am I? It’s only a little bit of drizzle. I’m sure it’ll be fine.

  An hour and a half later, when I’m standing in a tiny cold dressing room on the edge of a lake, I start to re-evaluate my whole I’m-sure-it’ll-be-fine frame of mind. When Danny said that I wasn’t going to be in my hiking gear all day, I’d assumed he’d meant we’d come home and change or at the very least that he had something a little smutty planned. I did not think that I’d be stripping off and getting into a wetsuit.

  I’m climbing into the no-nonsense swimming costume that Danny has bought me to put on underneath. At least he didn’t buy some sexy dental-floss bikini which not only would have been uncomfortable but also would have missed an opportunity to provide me with much-needed extra layers.

  I look down at the wetsuit, which everyone knows is the least flattering outfit known to man. I’m swearing like a trooper as I climb into it, and I know that the other women in the group are giving me a wide berth. I watch the way they jump expertly into their suits. I bet they do this all the time. I finally wrestle mine on and slip on the shoes I’ve been given, which are wet and slimy.

  I’m going to kill Danny. And to think I spent three hours last week in a museum for him. I would have taken him for a three-hour shop around the designer outlet if I’d known that we were supposed to be providing the other person with their idea of cruel and unusual punishment.

  I slip the life jacket on over the top of my wetsuit and waddle out to meet Danny.

  He looks hot in a wetsuit. Of course he does. He’s got a Keanu Reeves in Point Break thing going on.

  ‘You look good,’ he says, kissing me on the cheek and playfully slapping my bum. Right now I want to slap him back, but not in an affectionate way. ‘You’ll be needing this.’

  He passes me a helmet as he straps one on his own head.

  ‘Thanks so much,’ I say sarcastically, but after listening to the safety briefing I take it gladly and make sure that I secure it firmly to my head.

  Our guide passes us bright red waterproof clothing to go over the top of the wetsuits, and I’m at least thankful that people won’t be able to see so many of my lumps and bumps.

  ‘Right then, everyone ready to go Ghyll scrambling?’ says John our over-enthusiastic guide. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘If everyone’s going, then the little wooden huts will be free. You could peel me out of this wetsuit,’ I say.

  Danny cackles. ‘Nice try, Stoker, but peeling a wetsuit off isn’t every man’s fantasy, you know. Come on.’

  He takes my hand and I sigh as he pulls me to the path and we follow in single file up the side of a hill.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re actually going to do this,’ I say as we start walking to our first ascent. ‘I mean, how is this even safe? How can we walk up a waterfall?’

  Danny gives me a wide eyed grin and it only makes me panic more.

  ‘Ok, so we’re going to start climbing up here,’ says John. ‘Just trust the path we show you.’

  I’m relieved to see that the slope up is more of a diagonal angle rather than a vertical drop. I think when he’d said waterfalls I’d been imagining Niagara Falls. Not that it makes it any easier; it still looks impossible. I watch in disbelief as the guide scrambles over some boulders and pulls himself up between a tiny gorge.

  ‘My bum is never going to fit between that,’ I say, completely seriously to Danny.

  He just laughs at me and scurries up it like Spiderman and I have no choice but to follow him.

  I grit my teeth as I feel the water soaking through my neoprene shoes. Bloody hell it’s cold.

  It takes a few stumbles and slips for me to start to relax, and a few more before I get the hang of it. After a while I start to learn where to put my feet on the slippery rocks and heave myself up like a pro. I may actually be enjoying it too – but I’m not going to tell Danny that just yet. I don’t want him to be bringing me here every week.

  ‘Right, so now we get to the fun stuff,’ says John when we reach a vertical cliff face. ‘We’re going to descend. I’ll go first and Chris will be at the rear.’

  ‘He’s not serious,’ I say to Danny as I look down at the path he’s pointing at. ‘That’s way too steep and narrow. And what if I hit my head and knock myself unconscious. Or my bum gets stuck. Or I—’

  ‘—Or you have a good time,’ says Danny, squeezing my hand. ‘Relax, it’s going to be fine.’

  It does nothing to ease my apprehension. I’m suddenly terrified. I don’t mind heights and I don’t mind water, but I do I mind throwing myself into rapids that are whooshing down a gorge.

  Danny gives me a quick kiss. ‘I’ll be right behind you,’ he says, pushing me forward.

  A few people start to scream excitedly as they jump down, and I try to take comfort in the fact that they don’t sound too scared.

  ‘You did say that you wanted to do adrenaline-fuelled things,’ Danny says as we edge ever closer. ‘Remember that letter that you wrote to me after I came back from the Bahamas.’

  I curse myself, wondering what the bloody hell I put in all those letters and hoping that he won’t be throwing me out of a plane next weekend.

  ‘Three, two, one, go,’ shouts Chris as he puts his thumb up.

  I stare blankly back at him. He can’t be serious. I look down at the waterfall again and see the little helmets bobbing along.

  ‘Go on, the longer you stay here the harder it’ll be.’

  I turn and see Danny grinning at me.

  ‘You’ll only have to walk back down the side of the hill if you don’t,’ says Chris again.

  He seems to be full of motivation.

  I look back at Danny once more and then I push myself off. It’s weird as I expect to get flung down, but it’s sort of fast then slow as I bump along between the rocks and all th
e while the water is rushing around my ears and trying to force me along. My heart is racing and I get a rush of adrenaline, and suddenly I want to do it again. When I see that everyone else is going headfirst down the next one, I don’t think of the worst case scenarios, I just copy them.

  I can hear Danny woohooing behind me and I catch myself laughing. I’m actually enjoying this. And I whoop back a couple of times as John scoops me up by the shoulders and makes me scramble over a narrow rocky ledge and down a tiny gorge. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done and I’m loving it.

  *

  The morning passes in a blur and we’re back heading to the wooden huts before I know it. My teeth start to chatter now that we’ve stopped and are out of the water.

  ‘That was amazing,’ I say, realising how much I enjoyed myself.

  ‘If you liked that, then you’re going to love the afternoon I’ve got lined up for you potholing.’

  ‘You are kidding, aren’t you?’

  He gives me a wink. ‘Let’s just say you’re going to get your money’s worth out of your swimsuit.’

  I groan and skulk off towards the wooden hut muttering under my breath the whole way. I know that it’s nice to go out of your comfort zone occasionally, but I couldn’t be doing this all the time.

  ‘I haven’t bothered to do my hair,’ I say as I climb into the car, after we’ve changed back into dry clothes. I wring out the worst of the water from my ponytail outside before I shut the door.

  Danny’s almost pissing himself laughing. He’s loving this.

  ‘You know, when I said in my letter that I wanted to do more adrenaline-type things, I was only trying to make myself sound good. I don’t really want to be the next Lara Croft.’

  ‘You don’t? Shit, perhaps I got this wedding all wrong.’

  I pull a face.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he says. ‘I knew that that wouldn’t have been your first choice of things to do round here. I will make you do stuff like that if you move up here though. Not every week, but you can’t live up here and not make the most of it.’