They ended up in a tiny drawing room pub with mottled glass in the windows that served tankards of ale and pork scratchings – which no one ate after Pandora gave a big spiel about some hideous animal cruelty video she’d seen on YouTube.
They sat huddled round a velvet booth table, brass sconces above them and black and white pictures of Victorian London on the walls. They chatted about everything that had happened that day. They laughed about running from Olga, recounting the story over and over.
Then Julia said to Amber, ‘How do you feel?’
Amber took a sip of her Guinness. ‘Furious,’ she said. Then she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’m so angry that it can just be taken away. But, well, working with Olga wouldn’t have been ideal, would it?’ She had to pause before she said anything because she could feel herself on the unexpected verge of tears. She dabbed at her eye with a napkin. ‘God, look what I’ve become.’
Billy said, ‘But you’ll be able to find something else, won’t you, Mum?’ face all concern.
‘Yes of course I will,’ said Amber, emphatic, blowing her nose. ‘It’s just, well… This is all I’ve known. And I liked it. I loved it. Before bloody Olga.’ She swept her hair out of her eyes. ‘It looks a bit blank ahead.’
An awkward silence followed. Billy staring nervously at his mum.
‘I’ll be OK. It’ll be fine,’ Amber said, with as much conviction as she could muster. ‘Honestly.’
To change the subject, Charlie suggested they play the Who Wants to Be a Millionaire quiz machine, and he and Julia mesmerised them all with their collective trivia knowledge. They won sixty quid and were just about to buy more drinks with it when the door to the pub opened and Lovejoy and Martin walked in.
‘Oh here we go,’ Amber sighed.
Billy narrowed his eyes.
Lovejoy came over to the table, looking worn out but buoyant, his black T-shirt all dusty, his face smudged. ‘Alright?’
‘Peachy,’ said Amber dryly.
Lovejoy sat down on the stool next to her. Martin went over to the bar where Charlie was getting a round.
‘So,’ said Amber, ‘she offered you the job.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Lovejoy nodded.
Billy scowled.
Amber finished off her drink. She tried her hardest not to look jealous. Not to be a sore loser but she could see her face in the mirror opposite and it wasn’t working.
‘Didn’t take it though,’ said Lovejoy, eyes glinting.
Amber’s head shot round to face him. She narrowed her eyes. ‘What?’ She felt a tingling run over her skin and tried to ignore it. ‘Why not? You idiot, you should have taken it.’
Lovejoy looked confused. ‘I thought you’d be pleased,’ he said, running his hands through his hair and holding it back off his face.
‘Why?’ Amber looked at him like he was an idiot. Part of her was braced, waiting for something – the punchline, the news he’d been offered something even better – the other part of her started wondering if he’d done it for her, but then she scolded herself, she knew Lovejoy better than that. ‘It’s a great job.’
Lovejoy held his hands wide. ‘But it’s your job. I didn’t want to take your job. I thought about it and it made me feel bad.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Amber said, leaning back against the velvet booth, eyes wary.
‘It’s true! You’re meant to be pleased!’ Lovejoy huffed. ‘I did it for you.’
‘Why?’ Amber muttered, untrusting. She couldn’t believe he would pass up this opportunity.
Charlie and Martin hovered awkwardly with the new drinks.
‘For God’s sake, Amber,’ Lovejoy said, voice raised, end of his tether. ‘I was doing the room and it just didn’t feel right. I didn’t like myself. And when she offered me the job I knew I couldn’t take it. I did it for you and Billy to show you that I’ve changed. That—’ he pointed to himself, ‘I’m a good person.’ He ran his hand over his jaw and shrugged before saying, ‘It’s just it took me a while to get there, you know, old habits and all that.’
Amber didn’t say anything. She felt Julia kick her under the table. She looked up to see her grinning, Amber looked away. Charlie and Martin put the drinks down on the table and sat down.
Billy said, ‘I understand, Lovejoy.’
‘Thank you, Billy,’ Lovejoy replied.
Amber sat silent, refusing to look at anyone. Her brain was having trouble processing the information. No one was fitting into their usual roles. ‘So you’re not taking the job?’ she had to clarify. ‘You’re not working for Emerald House.’
‘No,’ said Lovejoy.
Amber nodded. He’d done it for Billy. And for her – she had to file that one away to think about properly later.
After a moment, Lovejoy gave her a nudge on the arm. ‘Admit you’re pleased I didn’t take it.’
Amber could feel everyone watching her. She took a sip of her drink. Inside she’d started to feel a fizz of pleasure that he hadn’t taken it, but there was no way she was showing him how much it meant to her. Still held back by that little bit of fear. So when she put her glass back on the table she held her hand up, an infinitesimal gap between her finger and thumb, and said, ‘Maybe I’m this much pleased.’
Lovejoy grinned.
Julia did a wry smile.
Over the other side of the table, Charlie took a sip of the frothy foam of his Guinness and said, ‘All that furniture and antiques, you two should start your own hotel chain.’
‘You should!’ Billy cut in. ‘That would be so cool.’
Amber rolled her eyes. ‘We couldn’t work together.’
Next to Charlie, Martin nodded in agreement, tying his hair up in a bun. ‘It would be a disaster.’
Lovejoy frowned. ‘I don’t think it would be a disaster—’
Amber shook her head at the idea.
‘I’m serious,’ said Lovejoy. ‘It could be good.’
Martin raised his eyebrows. ‘Okaaay!’ he said, just to appease him, and taking his drink went to stand by Charlie who had been lured back by the Who Wants to Be a Millionaire game.
Charlie got stuck on a geography question which Martin scoffed at the idea of knowing himself when Charlie looked at him for an answer, so they called Julia over. Then there was something about Love Island which Pandora knew the answer to and went to stand by the machine. Billy joined when it transpired Pandora wasn’t a hundred per cent sure what the answer was and was stuck between two possibilities.
It left Lovejoy and Amber alone at the table.
Lovejoy leant forward, elbows resting on the table. ‘I have something to tell you,’ he said.
Amber glanced up. ‘Yeah?’
Lovejoy nodded. ‘In the spirit of honesty and all that,’ he said, pausing to sip his drink, ‘I think I might have loved you too, back then.’
Amber laughed, ‘Oh thanks! You think.’
Lovejoy grinned. ‘Well I can’t be sure because I was young and a twat.’
Amber smiled down at the table.
‘But,’ Lovejoy toyed with the beer mat, ‘you’re the only one who stayed, you know, in my head, so…’
Amber glanced up.
‘I reckon that was love,’ he said, peeling the corner off the beer mat and then chucking it back on the table.
‘Stayed eh?’ Amber said, leaning back, surveying him. His glinting eyes, dirty T-shirt and arrow tattoo. ‘So I’m still there?’ she teased.
Lovejoy sat back, caught off guard. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Yeah you did,’ she laughed. ‘That means you love me,’ she said, as if they were taunting each other in the playground.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Lovejoy dismissed the suggestion, stretching his arms up, ‘if anyone loves anyone, it’s you who loves me. You admitted it.’
‘Loved, Lovejoy. Loved being the operative word,’ Amber clarified.
Lovejoy took another sip of his pint, looking across at her over the rim. ‘So you don’t love me?’
‘Do you not love me?’ she asked, bantering, but suddenly sweaty-palmed.
‘I asked first,’ said Lovejoy.
‘I asked second,’ she replied, her voice hitching imperceptibly.
He raised a brow.
Amber was suddenly caught by the silence around them and looked up to see everyone standing by the Who Wants to Be a Millionaire machine watching. Eyes wide. Listening.
‘We don’t love each other,’ Amber said quickly, reassuring the group.
Pandora made a sad face.
Julia smiled down at the floor.
Lovejoy sat back, hands behind his head, grinning.
Amber rolled her eyes. She’d had enough of the joking around, she was tired. She got up and went to the loo. ‘Get on with the game,’ she told the others, tapping the quiz machine.
In the ladies, she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked as tired and messy as Lovejoy did. She even had a vague mascara streak down her face from when she’d welled up that no one had told her about. How embarrassing.
The door opened as she was wiping it away.
She looked up. ‘Lovejoy,’ she said, surprised to see him striding in with absolutely no concern for the fact it was the ladies. ‘You’re not allowed in here.’
He shrugged. ‘Yeah I know,’ he said, leaning against the wall.
‘Well leave,’ she said, nodding towards the door.
‘Hang on a minute.’ He held up a hand. His lips were half-smiling. His eyes were all hooded and knowing, Amber didn’t want to look at them so she focused on the arrow tattoo on his arm. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘It strikes me that some shit has happened between us in the last couple of days and we need to talk about it, which we have and we will, but, I don’t know, it’s kind of made me remember what it was like – us.’ He pushed off from the wall to move forward, dark eyes still fixed on her. ‘Hasn’t it you?’
Amber shrugged, the room seemed to be shrinking. ‘A bit,’ she said, awkward as to the direction of the conversation. Unsure. She was unpractised at talking about feelings. She took a step back, it set the hand-dryer off. ‘Shit,’ she said, trying to get it to stop.
The noise bellowed.
Lovejoy reached over and turned it off at the wall. His arm trapping her between the hand-dryer and the sink. She could feel him looking down at her, she stared at his chest, at the flecks of dust on his T-shirt. She could smell the familiar scent of him.
‘What if,’ he said, ‘this is our time?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not our time.’
‘Why not?’
She couldn’t keep her eyes off his T-shirt.
With his free hand he reached down and tilted up her chin. ‘It might be,’ he said.
‘Seduced in the ladies’ toilet,’ she half-laughed. Her hands were shaking a little. ‘Lovejoy, I don’t think I can do this,’ she said.
‘Why not?’
‘Because there’s too much history.’
‘History might be a good thing,’ he said. ‘Saves us having to get to know each other. It’s a bloody nightmare having to chat to all these people on Tinder.’
‘You said it was great,’ she challenged.
‘I was lying,’ he said, flatly.
‘Well that’s not very romantic, is it? Let’s do it because it’s easier than doing it with someone else.’
Lovejoy shook his head. ‘That’s not what I was saying. I was saying, let’s maybe do it because we like each other.’
Amber swallowed.
Lovejoy sensed a weakening. ‘And we both admit we did once love each other.’
Amber glanced away, at the mirror, saw them both older and wiser and more lined than their teenage selves. But she felt as juvenile, as desperate not to show him her weakness. And she wondered suddenly why. What she was trying to prove. Surely, if she’d learnt anything it was that honesty wasn’t a bad thing. She wondered whether, if she had told him in the past, perhaps it would have been different. Perhaps it might not have changed things, but it would have opened up the possibility. It wouldn’t have been a lifetime of what if.
She looked back, and this time looked up to meet his eyes. ‘We did admit that,’ she said.
Lovejoy reached up and brushed her hair out of her eye, tucking it behind her ear. ‘Well how about it then? How about we see if we might maybe quite like each other in the present?’
Amber made herself hold his gaze, forced herself not to look away. ‘OK,’ she said. And when she saw him smile, she felt herself smile.