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

by Carla Burgess

  ‘There?’ I dig the pad of my thumb into the knotted muscle.

  ‘Yeah. Ooh, down a bit. There. Yeah, yeah, yeah.’

  There’s a ridge of muscle beneath my finger and I find myself holding onto his other shoulder to exert enough pressure to make a difference. ‘I’m not hurting you, am I?’

  ‘No, it feels good.’

  ‘How have you done this? Where have you been sleeping the last two nights?’

  ‘In Ben’s spare bed. The pillow’s really high and hard though.’

  ‘It’s kind of ironic that you do your neck in when you’ve slept in a bed instead of a floor.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s what you’re used to, I suppose.’

  I carry on massaging his shoulder. My fingers are hurting, but I’m enjoying it too much to complain. Aiden unbuttons more of his shirt then pulls it down his arm, and suddenly my hands are directly on his warm skin. There are three moles running in a line down his shoulder, and the urge to kiss them is almost overwhelming. I can’t help wondering what would happen if I did. Would he freak out? Would he kiss me back?

  Maybe I should try it and see what happens.

  I feel myself leaning closer to him, as if drawn by an invisible force.

  ‘I’d really like to meet James, you know.’

  ‘What!?’ Did I hear him correctly? Why would he want to meet James?

  ‘You heard.’

  ‘But why?’

  He shrugs the shoulder I’m not massaging. ‘I don’t know. I just figured it might be nice to meet the man you’re seeing. Check he’s good enough for you.’

  ‘Aiden!’ I roll my eyes at the back of his head. ‘You meeting James just feels weird. Besides, you’re out tomorrow so you can’t.’

  ‘I could come after.’

  ‘You won’t have time.’

  ‘I might. It depends where the restaurant is.’ Picking up his phone, he scrolls through his text messages. ‘Here you go. Where’s that?’ he asks, showing me the name of a restaurant on a message.

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Well, it’s bound to be central, isn’t it? The table’s booked for seven so I bet we’ll be done before nine. You’d still be out then, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘What time are you meeting?’

  ‘Eight.’

  ‘There you go then. I could come and meet you.’

  ‘Don’t you think meeting my new boyfriend might feel a little bit strange?’

  ‘No, why should it?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t want to meet your new girlfriend.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because …’ My voice trails off. Because I’d be jealous, that’s why. But I can’t say that out loud. ‘Anyway, what’s James going to think if I say, “Hi, this is my ex-boyfriend Aiden”?’

  ‘Just introduce me as an old friend. You don’t even have to admit we arranged it. It could be a chance meeting. I’ll be all like “Wow fancy seeing you here!” and you’ll be all like “Amazing! Come and join us!”’

  I snigger and resume kneading his shoulder, making him hiss in pain. ‘Too hard?’

  ‘A bit.’

  ‘Sorry, I’ll be more gentle.’ I ease off with the kneading and instead smooth the heel of my hand over his skin.

  ‘Why wouldn’t you want to meet my girlfriend?’ he asks, after a moment’s silence.

  ‘You have a girlfriend?’ I ask in a bewildered voice, sick jealousy churning my gut.

  ‘No, but I don’t know why you’d have a problem with it, if we’re just friends?’

  ‘I don’t have a problem with it. I just wouldn’t want to meet her.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because … I don’t know why, I just wouldn’t. It would be weird.’

  ‘Because you’d be jealous? Ouch!’ He winces as I dig my fingers into his muscle again.

  ‘No!’ I scoff, easing off the pressure a little. ‘Well, yes, maybe, I don’t know.’ I start kneading his shoulder again and he grabs my hand to still it.

  ‘Why would you be jealous?’ he asks.

  ‘It would just be weird, seeing you with someone new!’

  ‘New? It’s been five years, Orla.’ He laughs.

  ‘I know, but … I don’t know. Anyway, you just said you don’t have a girlfriend, so why are we even talking about this?’

  ‘Because I’d like to stay in touch with you.’

  ‘You would?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But you’re not going to be here. You’re going to Ireland.’

  ‘And? It’s not a million miles away, you know.’

  ‘It’s not exactly down the road, either. I’d have to catch a plane or take a ferry.’

  ‘Oh no, not a plane or a ferry!’ Aiden mocks.

  ‘Well, you know what I mean. If you go back to Ireland and settle down with a girl then I doubt I’ll ever see you again.’ Just saying the words makes my heart squeeze.

  ‘Well, I doubt that’s going to happen.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’ I rub his shoulder with the palm of my hand. ‘Love can strike at any time.’

  ‘Oooh, like a lightning bolt?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Is that how it was for you and James? He handed you the glove and you were zapped from above?’

  ‘Hardly!’ I laugh, thinking about the Orla Pickles thing.

  ‘So why did you agree to meet him then?’

  ‘I don’t know really. He just seemed like a nice guy.’

  ‘Is he handsome?’

  ‘Yes. He has a kind face.’ I try to conjure up an image of him in my head, but I can’t seem to remember what he looks like. Somewhere along the line, and this is probably down to Emma, he turned into Fozzie Bear, and now that’s all I see when I try to picture him.

  ‘Do you think he’s The One?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘What’s the point in dating him then? You may as well cancel and come out with me.’

  Laughing, I give his shoulder a gentle shove, and in response he leans back against me, trapping me against the back of the sofa.

  ‘Hey!’ I protest. I’ve got one leg either side of him and this feels alarmingly intimate. His shirt is all the way down his arms, and my chin is trapped against his naked shoulder. ‘You can’t trap me when I’m giving you a massage!’

  ‘Don’t push me off the sofa then!’

  ‘I hardly pushed you off! You didn’t move.’

  ‘I thought I was going to, though. It was very upsetting.’

  ‘Oh dear, poor Aiden.’ I chuckle as he sits back up and for some reason, I lean forward and plant a kiss on one of his moles without even thinking about it. He stills, and my heart lurches. ‘Sorry!’ I say, flustered.

  ‘What for?’ He sounds surprised.

  ‘Kissing you.’

  He half laughs. ‘Don’t be sorry for kissing me, Orla. I don’t mind you kissing me at all. In fact, you can kiss me any time you like.’

  Heat floods through my body, and the air feels charged with electricity. I still have my hands on Aiden’s bare shoulders, and the temptation to kiss my way down his spine is overwhelming. Giving myself a shake, I start to massage both of his shoulders at the same time, concentrating on the way his skin moves beneath my hands. He groans, and I feel a pull in my groin.

  ‘Ooh, you’re good at this, Orla.’

  ‘Maybe I should give up being a reporter and become a masseur instead.’

  ‘I’ll hire you. You can be my personal masseuse.’

  ‘Oh yeah? That sounds a bit dodgy.’

  He tips his head to one side, stretching out his neck. ‘It probably would be, to be honest.’

  ‘Aiden!’

  ‘Well, come on, I know what you can do, remember.’

  ‘What do you mean, do? I didn’t do anything.’

  ‘Oh, you did. You just didn’t realise at the time.’

  ‘I think you might be mistaking me for someone else,’ I say drily.

  ‘Well
, let’s see? Were you the girl who treated me to a striptease on the side of a river bank?’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ I feel my cheeks flame.

  ‘Were you the girl that—’

  ‘No, no, no! Stop it now, Aiden. We’re just friends now, remember.’

  ‘We were always just friends, remember. We just happened to have quite a lot of sex while we were about it.’

  ‘That was a long time ago.’ I go to scramble out from behind him, but he grabs my leg to stop me.

  ‘It doesn’t feel that long ago.’ His eyes seer into mine, as he twists to look at me. ‘Especially not now, with you here like this.’ We stare at each other, and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me. My eyes flick to his mouth and then back up to his eyes, but he doesn’t move towards me. Instead he gently strokes my hair back from my face. ‘We still have that same connection we always had.’

  My blood thrums in my veins as I stare at him, trapped in his gaze. I can’t deny it because it’s true, we do have that same connection. But I can’t let myself agree either.

  ‘I should go to bed,’ I say at last.

  He looks disappointed, but he nods and stands up so I can get up too. I feel bad about not responding to him, and I hover next to him for a moment while he stretches out his back and moves his head from side to side. ‘That’s much better. Thank you for the massage.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Collecting a couple of empty glasses from the coffee table, I take them through to the kitchen and leave them on the side to wash tomorrow morning. ‘Goodnight then.’ Glancing back, I see he’s taken off his shirt and my heart skips a beat at the sight of his broad shoulders and hard, flat stomach.

  ‘Goodnight, Orla.’

  Chapter 21

  I’m too worked up to sleep. My blood is thrumming through my veins and my limbs feel jittery and restless. I lie in bed, staring up into the darkness, going over and over everything Aiden said to me tonight. He seemed so different to yesterday on the phone. I still need to ask him what that was all about. Should I go back out now? Sleep feels a long way off.

  I lie in bed for a bit longer, then get up and go back out into the lounge. Everything is dark and still and I pause, listening for any sound that might indicate he’s still awake. Thinking he must be asleep already, I tiptoe into the kitchen and run myself a glass of water instead.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  His voice makes me jump. ‘Oh! I thought you were asleep! Would you like a glass of water?’

  ‘I’ve got one, thanks.’

  I hover in the kitchen for a moment, deliberating whether to ask him or not. I don’t want an argument, or to upset him again, but I know I won’t sleep if I don’t talk it through with him.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he repeats.

  ‘Yes.’ I take a sip of cool water. ‘Can I talk to you a minute?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Tonight, he’s laid his sleeping bag on the floor between the sofa and coffee table, so I hop onto the sofa over the arm and curl my legs beneath me. He’s just a dark lump on the floor. I don’t know what to say to start this conversation, and the silence stretches out into the darkness.

  ‘What do you want to talk about then?’ he asks, but not impatiently. I hear him sniff and scratch his head.

  ‘The other night, on the phone. You were angry with me. I want to know why. It wasn’t like you at all. What did I do to upset you?’

  He’s silent for a moment. ‘Why did you phone me?’

  ‘Because I wanted to know you were okay. I wasn’t checking up on you or anything like that. You know you’re free to come and go as you please.’

  ‘I wasn’t annoyed because I thought you were checking up on me, Orla. Did I sound pissed off when I first answered the phone?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So, what do you think could have annoyed me then?’

  I blink in the darkness. ‘I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.’

  He tuts. ‘Well, how about you have a good think and come back to me when you’ve come up with something?’ His sleeping back rustles as he turns on his side, away from me.

  ‘How about you tell me so it’s one less thing I’m confused about?’

  ‘What else are you confused about?’

  I pick at my nail miserably and stay quiet. I think again that I should just ask him to leave, but I don’t want him to. The problem is I don’t think I ever want him to leave.

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ I mutter.

  ‘Well, if you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.’

  ‘You sound like my mother,’ I say accusingly, climbing back over the arm of the sofa so I don’t step on him. I feel tearful, suddenly, the thought of him leaving tugging at my emotions. ‘And I phoned you because I missed you, if you really want to know. I needed to hear your voice.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just say that then?’ I hear the rustle of his sleeping bag as he sits up. ‘Orla, come back.’

  ‘No, I’m going to bed.’

  ‘Orla!’

  Shutting my bedroom door, I curl up in a ball beneath the covers, trying to get warm again. The heating went off an hour ago, and my flat is cold. I wish I hadn’t gone out to talk to him just now. I shouldn’t have admitted to missing him and I definitely shouldn’t have said I wanted to hear his voice. Talk about revealing too much.

  There’s a knock on my door and then it opens. ‘Orla? Can I come in?’

  Turning over, I sit up and look towards the dark shadow in the doorway. ‘Okay.’

  The bed dips as he sits down on the edge of the mattress. ‘That’s why I was mad at you.’

  My heart stills. ‘Because you knew I missed you?’

  ‘No, because you wouldn’t say it.’

  I frown into the darkness. ‘Isn’t checking you’re okay a little bit like saying I miss you?’

  ‘I suppose. But it’s the way you dress it up as something else that annoys me. Why didn’t you just say you missed me?’

  ‘Because I shouldn’t be missing you, Aiden. You’ve been back just a few days, yet I’m phoning you up to hear your voice? That’s pathetic. I can’t be missing you after twenty-four hours when you’re going to live in Ireland in just over a week’s time. What’s going to happen then?’

  ‘We’ll keep in touch this time.’

  ‘But that’s even worse! Talk about prolonging the agony.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, budge up.’

  ‘Why, what are you doing?’

  ‘I’m getting into bed with you.’

  ‘You can’t get into bed with me! I have a boyfriend.’

  ‘I’m not going to do anything. Just let me hold you for a little while.’

  My heart thuds as I shift over to make room for him, and he slides in next to me. I’ve only got a single bed so there’s not much room, and little choice but to hold on to each other so we don’t fall out. Every cell in my body is on red alert, and I try to control my breathing so he doesn’t realise how fast and shallow it’s become.

  I can’t believe he’s got into bed with me. I want to resent the space he’s taking up, but it feels nice to be pressed up against a warm body and despite my reservations, I start to relax. He always did feel like home.

  ‘Before we were lovers, we were friends, weren’t we?’

  ‘Even when we were lovers we were friends, yeah.’

  ‘Exactly. And why was that?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He sighs. ‘Why did you want to spend time with me?’

  ‘Because you’re kind and funny and interesting and I always felt comfortable with you.’

  ‘Yes, and I felt the same about you. I could say anything to you, and you could say anything to me, right? So why has that changed? Why should that change?’

  ‘Because of sex.’

  ‘But we were still friends when we were having sex. Why aren’t we friends now when we’re not having sex?’

  ‘We are friends. You’re here in my flat, aren’t you? Here in
my bed?’

  ‘But you don’t talk to me. I feel like you’re holding back from me all the time. Why can’t you tell me how you feel?’

  ‘Because it’s more complicated now. We were friends, then lovers, then you went away. What are we going to do? Repeat that cycle again? Go through all that pain again? I don’t want to tell you how I feel because it opens us up to all that pain again. And not just me, you too.’ My heart is hammering. This conversation feels dangerous, my feelings too close to the surface, shining through.

  ‘So, you’re saying you’re still in love with me?’

  I sigh and close my eyes. ‘I’m saying we hurt each other last time, and we stand to hurt each other again this time. And no matter what you think I did or didn’t feel when you went away, I cried for months over you.’ I swallow hard. ‘I really can’t afford to do that again, Aiden. And I don’t think you can either.’

  He’s quiet for what seems like a long a time, and then he says, ‘But do we even have a choice?’

  ‘There’s always a choice.’

  ‘I don’t think there is though.’ He tightens his arm around me. ‘Not for me, anyway.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve spent the last five years thinking about you and missing you. I don’t see that changing any time soon. Even if you tell me to leave. Even if I go to Ireland and never see you again, you’re always going to be there, Orla. In my head. In my heart.’

  I blink into the darkness. ‘But we can’t be together.’

  ‘What if we can?’

  ‘But we can’t, Aiden. It’s not practical.’

  ‘Practical?’

  ‘We’re going to be living in different countries. I don’t see how it could work.’

  ‘Friends or lovers?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘I’ll take either just to have you back in my life.’

  Drawing in a long, slow breath, I close my eyes. It would be so easy to turn to him and kiss him. I want him back in my life too, but I don’t want to have to live some miserable half-life where I spend all my time pining for him.

  Plus, there’s James to think about. It’s really early days, but he seems steady and solid and sensible, and not like someone who’s going to live in a different country any time soon. Should I really give up on that?

  ‘Look, I don’t mean to put you under pressure or confuse you any more than I have done already. I’ll leave if you want me to, and you’ll never hear from me again. If that’s what you want.’ He starts to withdraw, but I catch his arm and pull it back round me.