by Hannah Tovey
‘Finn’s my uncle. How do you know him and Mel?’
I suddenly remembered him mentioning his uncle was a teacher.
‘I’ve just started my teacher training at Clerkenwell Primary. I’m in his class.’
‘You told me you were a teacher?’
‘That was a minor fabrication.’
He smiled. ‘So, he’s your boss?’
‘Boss, mentor, teacher, guidance counsellor. He’s a bit of everything.’
Scott was gaping at me, like he couldn’t believe I was standing in front of him. I couldn’t believe it either. I’d thought about those delectable dimples for so long, and then one day I’d told myself to stop being so deluded; he wasn’t going to get in touch … that’s not how life works.
‘Do you want to grab a seat with me up front?’ he asked.
‘Yes, OK,’ I said, gazing into his hazel-brown eyes.
‘Great, I’ll get us some drinks. What are you having?’
‘I’ll have a glass of white wine, please – anything but Chardonnay.’
‘No tequila this time?’
I felt a smile itch at the corners of my mouth. He smiled back, and then I felt it: panic.
I found two tiny bar stools by the stage, sat myself down, and messaged Mia. ‘SCOTT IS HERE. IN THE PUB. HE’S GONE TO GET US A DRINK. WHAT DO I DO?’
Mia wrote back instantly: ‘Wow, I thought he was dead. Be cool. Tell him you’re dating someone really hot and famous and mention that he has a massive penis.’
‘That’s terrible advice.’
‘Has he apologised for ghosting you?’
‘No, he’s literally just walked through the door.’
‘Can you leave your phone on, so I can hear what happens next?’
‘No. Shit, he’s coming back.’
‘REMAIN CALM. I LOVE YOU.’
I put my phone away and Scott sat down beside me.
‘Thank you for the drink,’ I said.
He took a sip of his beer. We locked eyes. I took a sip of my wine. We locked eyes again.
‘I owe you an explanation,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I never got in touch. I wanted to.’
‘Did you? Because it’s fairly simple to compose a text message and press send. I can show you how to do it now, if you like?’
‘OK … I deserved that,’ he said.
I waited for him to speak again.
‘I was seeing someone. I’ve known her for a while, we started dating, and then her mum passed away. We stayed together, but we weren’t really together, if that makes sense?’
‘But you took my number. Why did you do that if you had a girlfriend?’
‘It’s not what you think.’
‘How is it then?’
‘We both knew it was going to end at some point, but she needed me, and I couldn’t let her down.’
I wanted to say something witty and condescending. I wanted to be pissed off with him. But all I could think about was his hair. I wanted to take him home and run my fingers through it for hours on end.
‘I wanted to ask you for your number the minute I saw you standing at the bar,’ he said. ‘I knew I wouldn’t be in a relationship for much longer, which might make me sound like a prime tosser, but it’s the truth.’
‘Are you with her now?’
‘No, we broke up in May. I would have called – I should have called – but it had been two months since I’d met you, and I thought I must have missed the boat by then.’
I thought back to what I was doing in May. Ah yes, I lied about my sister going into labour to run from my first, first date in one hundred and twelve years. Exciting times.
‘I thought about you a lot,’ he said. ‘I don’t go out much.’
‘Are you not allowed out or something? Is this you trying to reintegrate yourself back into society?’
‘Were you this sassy when we first met?’
‘Yes.’
He was so close to me that I was convinced he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t, and the moment passed.
‘I’d like to start again,’ he said, taking his hand out to shake mine. ‘I’m Scott.’
I’d never instantly connected with anyone like him before. I’d never met a man and felt comfortable enough to be my slightly odd, shameless self – not right away, at least. He spoke with such sincerity that I trusted every word that came out of his mouth. Maybe I was being foolish, and maybe I shouldn’t have forgiven him so quickly, but I didn’t have the energy to play games. I was done with being single and above all, I really, really, wanted to snog him.
I took hold of his hand.
‘I’m Ivy. Nice to meet you.’
‘I can’t believe Mr Reid – sorry, Finn – is your uncle.’
‘It’s cute that you call him Mr Reid.’
I wanted to throw myself at him and snog his face off.
‘How come you’re here on your own tonight?’ I asked him.
‘Mel likes to make me feel guilty for never coming to hear them sing. I can’t stay for long; I’m meant to be going to my mate’s in Brixton later.’
‘I’m meant to be going to a party in Highgate later.’
I said it too quickly – it reeked of desperation.
‘It’s sort of my birthday party,’ I said.
‘Is it today? You should’ve said!’
‘It’s next week.’
Someone sat down beside Scott, forcing him to move closer to me. I caught a glimpse of his chest as he shifted in his seat. It didn’t look like it had been carved out of marble, but there was enough muscle there to make me feel a little clammy.
He ran his fingers through his hair and I watched the curl bounce on his head.
I excused myself to go to the loo, sat down on the toilet seat, and tried to recover some sanity through a short series of deep breathing techniques I’d seen Anna do in labour.
‘How are you finding the school?’ he asked, as I sat back down beside him.
‘I love it. Everyone’s been so welcoming – well, aside from Sammy, who likes to troll me for an hour at the start of the day.’
‘I don’t know how you do it – you must have a lot of patience.’
‘Not really. I’m constantly seething with irritation.’
He smiled.
‘They’re amazing kids,’ I said. ‘They’re adventurous and curious and wildly entertaining. I lucked out with your uncle’s class.’
My hand was right by his, on the table. We both looked down at our hands, then to each other.
‘Mr Reid – sorry, Finn – doesn’t have children of his own, does he?’
‘No.’
He looked at the floor, then to his pint glass, then to me.
‘Do you have children?’ he asked.
‘No. Do you?’
‘No.’
There was an awkward moment’s silence.
‘How old do you think I am?’ I asked.
‘Forty-seven.’
‘You think you’re real funny, don’t you?’
‘Yes, as a matter of a fact, I do.’
A massive grin swept across his face and I thought about what he would look like naked. Hopefully he’d have more hair on him than Wyatt.
‘I’m so glad I got to see you again,’ he said.
‘Me too.’
He moved his arm around me and stroked the base of my spine. It was singlehandedly the sexiest thing anyone’s ever done to me.
Mr Reid and Mel came on stage and we all clapped and cheered. The pub was filling up and we had to move our seats even closer together. His legs grazed mine. It was unbearable how close we were. Mel’s guitar struck its first chord, and the room went quiet.
When she started to sing, Scott whispered in my ear that he loved her voice. I did too; it was deep and gravelly, full of guts, and heart. The chemistry between them was palpable; they were so at ease, as if being up on stage together was the most natural thing in the world to them.
At the end of the song, Scott and I sto
od up and cheered, and Mel winked in our direction.
I sat back down and got my phone out to check the time.
‘Shit,’ I said, a little too loudly.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘I didn’t realise the time. I need to get going.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame.’
He held my gaze and I realised there was no way I could leave just yet.
‘I’ll stay if you stay.’
‘I’ll stay if you stay.’
He interlaced his fingers with mine. My entire body felt like it had been zapped by electricity.
We both made our way to the bar and stayed there.
18
After finishing their set, Mel and Mr Reid mingled with the crowd whilst Scott and I sat back down and talked endlessly, oblivious to everyone around us. I’m so used to being with people who don’t stop for breath – my mother, Mia, the children at school. But Scott didn’t speak over me or second-guess what I was going to say. He was considered and eager to listen. He was intoxicating.
Scott had been brought up in Crouch End but now shared a flat with his brother Oliver, in Pimlico. He spoke a lot about his mum, how she liked to send him home with meals for the freezer because she wasn’t yet convinced that he could function as an adult. She called him a hopeless case, which I liked because it sounded like something Gramps would say.
When he went to the bathroom, I checked my phone and saw nine missed calls from Mia.
‘Why are you stalking me?’ I messaged her.
She was online. Two blue ticks immediately appeared on the screen.
‘Are you still with Scott? TELL ME EVERYTHING.’
‘I’m going to be late.’
‘You’re already late. Are you going to have sex with him?’
‘No, we’re watching a gig. Everyone else has diarrhoea.’
‘What? Who’s got diarrhoea?’
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
I closed WhatsApp and put the phone back in my bag.
Scott came to sit back down, looking agitated.
‘You know what pisses me off?’ he said.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘The Foo Fighters.’
I laughed.
‘I’m being serious. Finn’s at the bar arguing with some bloke over what their greatest album is.’
‘So, people who don’t wear socks, and the Foo Fighters. Good to know.’
‘Did I mention the sock thing last time we met?’
‘You did.’
‘Wow, what a chat-up line.’
I didn’t say anything. I was too busy thinking about his lips.
‘What?’ Scott said. ‘Why are you looking at me like that? You’re some sort of super fan, aren’t you?’
‘I think a lot of people say they like them because they think they should, like it makes them cool or something. But I’m perfectly content with how uncool I am.’
‘You do seem terribly uncool.’
‘Thank you, I appreciate that.’
His phone rang.
‘Sorry,’ he said, looking at his phone. ‘The boys are hounding me. It’s my mate’s leaving do tonight; he flies to Australia tomorrow.’
‘It’s OK, I need to go to Highgate anyway.’
‘We could stay for one more drink?’
‘Come on, we should get going.’
Despite not wanting to play games, I was going to make him work for this. I wanted him to think I was extremely popular with a flourishing social life. In reality, if it hadn’t been for Mia’s party, I’d have been in bed with a hot chocolate and a bag of bacon rashers. But to him, I was Paris Hilton circa 2006, minus the criminal offences. Those were simpler times.
‘I’m going to call you tonight,’ he said. ‘And tomorrow. And I’m taking you out for your birthday next week.’
I smiled. ‘Let’s go,’ I said, getting up. ‘I’ll walk out with you.’
We got up from the table and went to find Mel and Mr Reid to say goodbye.
‘Oh, don’t go!’ Mel protested. ‘I’ve not had a chance to speak to you properly.’
‘You guys were so good. I loved it.’
‘Are you leaving together?’ Mr Reid asked.
‘You are such an old man, Finn,’ Mel said.
We said goodbye and Scott grabbed my hand and walked me through the crowd. As soon as we were out the door, he kissed me, in the middle of the pavement, amongst all the smokers. I moved my hand to the back of his head to bring him in closer, and his hands went to my waist. I couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Well, that’s great, isn’t it,’ he said. ‘I kiss you, and you laugh.’
I held my hand up against my mouth to try to stop myself, but I couldn’t.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t know why I’m laughing.’
But I did know why I was laughing. I was laughing because it was the best first kiss I’ve ever had. I was laughing because I’d felt something stir deep inside me. I was laughing because I just couldn’t believe my luck.
The door to Mia’s was open, and I could hear her singing. I walked through the cloud of smoke and down the hallway, stepping over scattered bodies, drinking from beer cans and bottles.
In the front room, Mia was lying on top of the piano, serenading the crowd. She was on her back, with one leg up in the air, and her head hanging off the edge of the piano. She was on the last verse of ‘Memory’.
The whole room was transfixed on her. Nobody moved, or spoke, but when she sang the last note, everyone erupted in applause. She sat up, her legs dangling from the piano and motioned to Noah, who was playing. They both bowed to their audience, then he grabbed her face and kissed her in that inappropriate way lovers kiss when they’re several glasses of alcohol down. I shook my head and laughed.
When they finally stopped snogging, she jumped off the piano, and caught my eye.
‘Listen up, people!’ she shouted into the microphone, announcing me like I was the final act in her warped musical. ‘Our guest of honour has finally arrived!’
Everyone turned to look at me, and I acted out a fake apology.
‘She’s late because she was snogging some boy.’
‘I wasn’t snogging anybody,’ I said.
‘Snogging or not, this is your birthday, and we need to sing you a little song.’
She started to sing ‘Happy Birthday’, beckoning the whole room to join in. I was dragged to the centre of the room, paraded about like a show pony. Noah came over and kissed me on the cheek and they both put their arms around me. When the song stopped, I said thank you, and asked if someone could kindly get the birthday girl a drink.
‘You are so embarrassing,’ I said to Mia.
‘You love me, Ivy.’
‘I do love you. Thank you for this. And sorry I’m late.’
‘Let’s go into the garden for a debrief. I’m so excited I can hardly contain myself.’
‘Fag?’ Mia said, offering me a cigarette.
‘No, I shouldn’t. I haven’t smoked in over a month.’
She lit her cigarette. I took it off her, held it to my lips and inhaled slowly.
‘I really wish I didn’t like smoking so much,’ I said.
‘So, do we believe him?’ she asked.
‘We believe him.’
‘How fit is he?’
‘He’s so fit, Mia. He’s got a bit of a tan, his hair’s all bouncy, and his lips – Mia, his lips.’
‘Why didn’t you bring him over here?’
‘Because that would be too easy. I want to be wooed.’
‘This is the most exciting thing to happen since Sarah Jessica Parker started developing her own brand of wine,’ she said, hugging me. ‘I’ll go get us another bottle, and in the meantime, don’t talk to the man next to the BBQ.’
I lay in the hammock for all of thirty seconds before said man appeared beside me. My eyes were level to his stomach, where a bulge of fat was hanging over his jeans.
‘Where do p
eople go around here to make love?’ he said.
I sat up.
‘What?’
‘I’ve been staring at you all night.’
‘I’ve only been here half an hour.’
‘I like the way you move.’
‘Sorry, who are you?’
‘Jake. I’m surprised Mia didn’t tell you about me.’
He sat down beside me.
‘I think I was meant to be at this party tonight,’ he said.
‘Were you?’
‘You have such a great energy.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I know we’ve only just met, but I feel like we have this deep connection.’
‘Is everything OK, Jake?’
‘Everything’s magical. You’re magical.’
I inspected his face closer; there were little sweat beads coming out of every pore.
‘Have you taken anything?’ I asked.
‘Do you want some?’
‘What is it?’
‘Mushrooms.’
‘That’s very kind but no, thank you.’
‘I want to be with you, here in this moment.’
‘I’d argue that mushrooms aren’t the drug to help you stay in the moment.’
He leant in to kiss me, but I put my hand out to stop him.
‘Why don’t you stay here,’ I said, getting out of the hammock. ‘I’ll go get you some squash.’
‘Lay with me.’
‘I’ll be back soon,’ I said, as he lay down in the hammock and rested his head on both hands. ‘Try to rest.’
‘Can I get your number?’
‘I don’t think so, no.’
He grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let it go. I stood there for a moment before his eyes closed and his grip loosened.
I walked into the kitchen to find Mia hunched over the sink, helping someone with their nosebleed.
‘There, there, love,’ Mia said. ‘Maybe don’t inhale so much in one go next time?’
The girl held the tissue in place, thanked Mia and started to walk out to the garden.
‘Before you go,’ I said to the girl, ‘can you take a pint of squash to Jake, please? He’s lying in the hammock.’
She puffed her cheeks, poured some squash and off she went. I grabbed Mia by the arm and walked her to the hallway.
‘Who was that girl?’ I asked Mia.
‘No clue.’
‘Who the hell is Jake?’