The Five-Year Plan: The utterly heart-warming and feel good rom com of 2020

by Carla Burgess

  ‘Okay, well …’ He hesitates in the doorway then turns to look at me. ‘See you soon, Orla.’

  ‘Okay.’ I smile awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Should we kiss or hug? Or just simply say goodbye? I can’t remember it ever being this awkward between us. Aiden checks his pockets as though he thinks he’s left something, and I grip the doorframe, my knuckles whitening. Please don’t go, please don’t go.

  ‘Right,’ Aiden says when he’s apparently satisfied he’s got everything. ‘Bye then.’

  ‘Bye.’ My voice is so small it’s barely more than a whisper.

  He goes to walk away, then changes his mind and turns back towards me with his arm out, ready for a hug. Without hesitation, I slip my arms around his waist and squeeze him tight. He feels warm and solid, his shirt smooth against my cheek, and I don’t want to let go, but I have to and before I know it the door’s swinging shut behind him and he’s gone, leaving an empty corridor and me, bewildered and sad.

  Chapter 17

  I can’t believe Aiden thought I was glad to see him go. I toss and turn all night thinking about it, then think about it some more on my tube journey to work. At least it takes my mind off the packed train carriage I’m standing in. My nose is about two centimetres away from the man in front’s puffer jacket, and a woman behind has her bag wedged against my hip. Just the same as any other day, really.

  Why would he think I was happy he was going away? It just doesn’t make sense.

  I’m so distracted I barely register the ticket barrier or the walk to work. Instead, I see the bright airy interior of Manchester city airport, and Aiden’s back as it disappears through security. It was a horrible feeling watching him disappear like that. It was only then that I allowed myself to fall apart. I remember sitting in my car afterwards and crying so hard and for so long that I had to pay for extra time in the short stay car park.

  I never want to go through that again. I can’t let Aiden in this time.

  ‘Someone looks tired!’ Belinda, the editor in chief, stops by my desk on her way into her office. ‘How did last night go? Did Emma enjoy the exhibition?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. It was good. Really powerful stuff.’

  ‘Did Emma get to speak to him?’

  ‘She did. He was very busy but she got a few words.’ My stomach dips and I feel a little breathless as I wait for my computer to boot up. He really had been busy last night. Far too busy to just up and leave and come racing after me.

  Belinda runs through a couple of things with me before going back into her office to take a call. Emma appears at the side of my desk, brandishing her piece from Aiden’s exhibition.

  ‘Morning!’ she says perkily as she perches her bottom on the edge of my desk. ‘Did anything happen after I left last night?’

  ‘No! No, nothing at all.’ I say, innocently, focusing my attention on the printout of the review. ‘I saw some people that I knew so I just chatted to them for a while and then left. This is good. Well done.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She beams as she takes back the review, then turns to look at the postcard that’s pinned to my notice board on my wall. ‘Cool postcard. Who do you know who’s been to Kuala Lumpur?’

  ‘Oh, err …’ I narrow my eyes at her. That card’s been there for months yet she’s never asked about it before. Emma’s not daft; she knows it’s from Aiden and is trying to stir things up. My cheeks flush as she unpins it from the wall to read the back, though she won’t find the answer there. It’s just my name, work address, and a heart.

  ‘Just a heart, eh?’ Emma gives me a knowing look and pins it back up. ‘I bet that’s from Aiden Byrne, isn’t it? He’s so in love with you. I hope you took him home and gave him a good seeing to?’

  ‘Emma!’ I splutter.

  ‘Well, I would!’

  ‘What’s that?’ Belinda appears out of her office like an apparition. I swear she has special senses that tell her when her staff are talking about anything other than work. ‘Who did Orla take home and give a good seeing to?’

  ‘Aiden Byrne,’ Emma says helpfully. Or rather, unhelpfully.

  ‘The Aiden Byrne?’

  ‘No! I didn’t give anyone a good seeing to.’

  ‘Oh, Orla!’ Belinda says, looking disappointed. ‘For about two seconds there you got a whole lot more interesting.’

  ‘Thanks!’ I say crossly.

  ‘So why are you suggesting Orla went home with Aiden Byrne, Emma?’

  ‘You should have seen the way he was looking at her!’

  ‘He wasn’t …’ I break off, shaking my head. ‘He’s just … an old friend, that’s all.’

  ‘What? The Aiden Byrne’s an old friend?’ Belinda’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

  ‘Yes. And why do you keep saying The Aiden Byrne like he’s George Clooney or something? He’s not a celebrity. He’s just a wildlife photographer.’

  ‘But he’s done all those documentaries now. He’s becoming quite a household name. Wasn’t he voted fiftieth sexiest man in a recent magazine poll?’ Belinda looks from me to Emma and back to me again.

  ‘What? No!’ I start to laugh. ‘Fiftieth? I’m not sure that’s that great.’

  ‘Hey, at least he made the list.’

  I put my head in my hands, still laughing. There’s no way Aiden is on a sexiest man list! I really should have watched those documentaries. ‘What did he do in these documentaries? Take all his clothes off?’

  ‘There was one where he stripped off and waded out into a crocodile-infested river.’

  ‘What the hell!?’ A crocodile-infested river? I’m appalled.

  ‘You couldn’t see his dong or anything. Just a back view.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ I feel an irrational stab of jealousy. ‘But why would he go into a crocodile-infested river? I thought these documentaries were on climate change?’

  ‘Can’t remember.’

  ‘No, no one does. We just remember that arse.’ Emma and Belinda cackle and I roll my eyes at them. I have a sudden urge to watch every documentary he’s ever done, right here, right now. ‘Seriously though,’ Emma sniffs when she’s finished laughing. ‘He’s done quite a few different ones. I think that one was about deforestation in the Amazon or something, and they were probably alligators not crocodiles. He had to go in because they’d dropped a bit of film kit in there.’

  ‘He risked his life for a bit of kit?’

  Emma shrugs. ‘Made good telly. I think the ratings went through the roof on that one. I’m surprised you don’t know about it.’

  I shake my head, annoyed. So not only does he take close-up photographs of forest fires like the one in his exhibition last night, but he also goes swimming in dangerous rivers and swamps just to up his TV ratings.

  Not that I care, of course. I can’t let him wheedle his way into my affections again. Besides, he seemed so angry with me last night I doubt I’ll see him again.

  ‘Did you get his number last night?’

  ‘Maybe.’ I cast a warning glance towards Emma and Belinda. ‘We said we might meet for a drink before he leaves for Ireland, talk about old times and that sort of thing. I doubt it will actually happen though. Besides, I don’t know if you two remember, but I’m seeing someone already.’ I turn back to my computer, stabbing at a few keys though I have no idea what I’m typing.

  ‘Oh yeah, the pickle guy?’ Emma and Belinda exchange looks and snigger.

  ‘James. And I don’t know why you two are laughing.’

  ‘He’s just got a funny name, that’s all. James Pickles. You’d be Orla Pickles.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t, because I’m not about to marry him, am I? I’ve only just met the guy!’

  ‘I much prefer Orla Byrne.’

  ‘Yeah well that’s never going to happen, sorry.’

  ‘Never say never, Orla.’

  ‘In this case, I really think we can because in a couple of weeks he’s going back to live in Ireland.’

  ‘Ireland’s only across the water. Yo
u can be there in an hour or so.’

  I roll my eyes at them. ‘Look, how did we get on to this? Aiden is a friend, that’s all.’ I focus my attention back on my computer screen, but Belinda and Emma continue to stand by my desk, staring at me.

  ‘Did you think he was interested in Orla, Emma?’ Belinda asks.

  ‘Definitely. He kept gazing at her, and then she’d gaze back, and it was like a scene from some romantic film or something.’

  ‘Hardly!’ I scoff. Though I think about the way he appeared on that train. If he’d kissed me then … I swoon a little and have to blink to clear my vision as I push the thought away.

  ‘Ooh, look at her face!’ Belinda says, peering closer at me. ‘Something did happen last night. I can tell.’

  ‘No, it didn’t!’ I protest. ‘Like I said, we just talked that’s all. Then he left and I went to bed.’

  ‘Wait, he left? As in, left your flat? How did he get in your flat?’

  Realising my mistake, I get all flustered and panic. ‘Oh, he … err, he followed me onto the train.’

  ‘He followed you onto the train? What, from the gallery?’

  ‘Why did he do that?’

  ‘Did he kiss you?’

  ‘Is he some kind of stalker?’

  ‘No! I left early and he wanted to speak to me, that’s all. He ran after me and jumped on the train just as it was leaving.’

  ‘Aww, that’s so romantic!’

  ‘Will you two stop! We just talked!’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Just stuff. Like what we’ve been up to in the past few years. He didn’t stay long. Anyway, why are you two being like this?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘All gooey and romantic. You didn’t want to know when I told you about James finding my glove. This is just the celebrity thing, isn’t it? You’re only interested because Aiden’s semi-famous.’

  ‘No, it’s because James sounds a bit creepy, if you want to know the truth.’

  ‘Creepy? What are you talking about? How is he creepy?’

  ‘That whole glove thing … weird.’

  ‘It was sweet. He found my glove and handed it to me. How is that creepy?’

  ‘Because, Orla, it wasn’t even your glove.’

  ‘Oh, no it wasn’t in the end!’ I laugh, remembering the moment I discovered both of my gloves safely in my coat pocket.

  ‘Yeah, exactly,’ Belinda gives me a knowing look. ‘Why did he think it was yours? I bet he carries a supply of women’s gloves around so he has a reason to chat up girls on public transport.’

  ‘He’s not like that at all!’ I protest. ‘He’s sweet.’ The thought of sweet, affable James using tricks like that is unthinkable.

  ‘What does he look like?’ Emma asks.

  ‘Oh, er …’ I stop and think for a moment, trying to push the image of Aiden aside and picture James instead. It’s pathetic that Aiden has this hold on me after all this time. To alleviate my guilt, I go a bit overboard on my description of James. ‘He’s cute. Short, tight, curly blond hair. It’s sort of fuzzy. And he’s got blue eyes and a round face. He always looks smart and smells nice.’

  ‘Not being funny but he sounds like Fozzie Bear. Does he wear a pork pie hat and tell bad jokes?’

  ‘Emma! That’s really rude!’ I say, laughing despite myself. ‘Anyway, Fozzie Bear is my favourite muppet so it’s all good.’

  ‘Really? I prefer Animal. Aiden would be Animal.’

  ‘Aiden would not be Animal!’ I scoff. ‘Aiden would be … who would Aiden be?’ I muse as Emma and Belinda slip away from my desk and go back to their own. I’m so busy thinking about Aiden and which muppet he’d suit best that I don’t even notice Malcolm, the big boss, walking through the office. ‘Rowlf!’ I shout triumphantly. ‘Aiden would be Rowlf. Even if he doesn’t have hair like Rowlf’s ears anymore, he’s still laid back and affable.’

  I look across at Emma, but she sinks down in her seat and shakes her head at me just as Malcolm sweeps past, casting a disapproving look my way before entering Belinda’s office.

  I wince. Oh well, he’s not to know what we were talking about is he. Deciding I haven’t got time to worry about Malcom, I set about my work, determined not to think about Aiden until the end of the day.

  But as soon as Malcolm leaves Belinda’s office, she’s back over to my desk with Emma slinking behind her.

  ‘Rowlf?’ Belinda says. ‘You’re comparing The Aiden Byrne to Rowlf?’

  I shrug. ‘Well, the Aiden I knew, anyway.’

  ‘So, tell us how well you used to know him then.’

  I shrug. ‘I spent a summer with him five years ago, sleeping in his tent and watching otters.’

  ‘Watching otters? Well, that’s a new one!’

  ‘Ha ha, very funny. Anyway, the point is, that was five years ago.’

  ‘Five years?’ Emma whispers. ‘And you still look at each other like you did last night? And he still sends you postcards from all around the world?’ She points the postcard that she pinned back to my wall out to Belinda.

  ‘Yes, but I live in London, and he lives in Ireland. Or more likely a tent, in whatever country he happens to take his fancy next.’

  ‘So, he comes to visit you in London. And you go on holiday to his tent.’ Emma shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

  ‘Sounds like the ideal relationship,’ Belinda says. ‘You wouldn’t even get sick of each other because you’d spend all that time missing each other and being overjoyed when you actually did see each other.’

  ‘I’d live in a tent if it was with a guy as sexy as Aiden Byrne,’ Emma chips in.

  I shake my head. ‘Look, which part of it’s over and I’m seeing James now don’t you two understand? You’ll have to meet James. I’ll bring him to the Christmas party if we’re allowed partners.’

  ‘We’d rather you brought Aiden Byrne!’ Belinda says sourly.

  I roll my eyes at her. ‘What did Malcolm want anyway?’

  ‘Oh, just trying to blame us for a slump in sales figures, that’s all.’ Her shoulders drop. ‘So, we need more salacious gossip. More sex. More scandal. If you fancy doing a kiss-and-tell exposé on Aiden Byrne or have any naked photos of him, now’s your time to get them out.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Oh, well, failing that, do you think he’d write a column for us? Something environmental?’

  ‘Maybe.’ I shrug, and then realise she’ll be expecting me to ring him.

  ‘Great. And that gives you a good reason to talk to him too, doesn’t it!’ She winks at me before spinning on her heel and heading back to her office.

  Chapter 18

  I’m so tired by the end of the day, I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. My mobile rings just as I’m about to leave the office and I snatch it up, my first thought being that it’s Aiden. I feel a wave of guilt when I see James’s name on the caller display.

  ‘Hi, James!’ I say, cheerfully. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Good thanks! Listen, Orla, I’m really sorry but I’m going to have to cancel our date tonight. I’m so behind at work I’m going to have to stay late.’

  ‘Oh!’ Guilt and surprise roll through me. I’d completely forgotten we had a date tonight. ‘That’s okay. I’m really tired anyway so I could do with an early night.’

  ‘You are lovely, Orla. Thank you for being so understanding. Ordinarily, I’d catch up tomorrow instead but I’m going up to Manchester in the morning for my grandmother’s birthday.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Honestly, it’s no problem.’

  ‘Well, for the record, I’m disappointed not to be seeing you.’

  I laugh slightly breathlessly. ‘Me too,’ I say, then realise it’s a lie. I’m so relieved not to have to go out tonight I feel like thanking him. ‘Shall we rearrange for one evening next week?’

  ‘I can do Tuesday?’

  ‘Yes, Tuesday’s good for me too. Shall we meet in our usual place?’

  �
��Sounds good. Eight o’clock?’

  ‘Yes, great.’

  We say goodbye and I hang up, my heart thudding guiltily. I’m shocked I’d forgotten about our date. So shocked in fact that I’m seriously starting to doubt we’d made arrangements in the first place. I suppose we must have done though. My head has been so full of Aiden and his exhibition all week that I shouldn’t be surprised things have slipped. Still, I feel bad about it. What if he hadn’t cancelled? I’d have gone home to sleep and stood him up.

  I’m doubly glad James cancelled when I get outside into the wind and the rain. Another storm is forecast for this weekend, so it’s bound to get worse. I put up my umbrella, but it instantly gets blown inside out, so I give up and hurry to the tube station without it. I’m drenched by the time I get home. My flat feels cold and damp, so I crank up the heating and change into my pyjamas.

  I wonder what Aiden’s doing now.

  Pushing the thought away, I phone my landlord and leave a message about the damp patch and the broken cupboard, then make a start on making my dinner. It’s only stir fry, but at least the smell of sizzling vegetables and soy sauce eradicates the pervasive smell of fried chicken from the takeaway next door. It’s always worse on Friday and Saturday evenings. I settle down to eat in front of the TV, and realise that this could be a good time to watch Aiden’s documentaries. It takes me just a moment to find them, and I stare at the thumbnail for a moment, trying to work out if it’s a good idea or not. Belinda and Emma have got me curious though, and I really do want to see the river scene.

  It’s strange to see him on the TV. I finish my dinner then sit on the floor in front of the TV so I can be closer. He’s surprisingly natural on camera. I’m on the second episode when there’s a knock on the door. Thinking it’s the landlord, I pause the TV and get up to answer the door. I’m a bit annoyed because Aiden’s just taking his shirt off ready to jump into the Amazon river, but I need to get this damp sorted.

  ‘Hello!’ I say, as the door swings open.

  ‘Hi!’ Aiden’s standing the other side holding a black suit carrier in one hand and a massive holdall at his feet. ‘Am I too late for dinner?’