‘Oh my God, it’s been hours,’ I moan.
‘Luca, it’s been like half an hour,’ Tom laughs.
‘Well, it feels longer,’ I say. ‘I’m going to go mad, stuck in here, in this tiny lift – with you.’
‘Charming,’ he replies with a smile.
God, he’s so easy-going and it drives me mad.
We must look so ridiculous. Me, sitting here in Tom’s shirt, smelling like a combination of pond residue and magnolia hand lotion. Tom sitting opposite me, without his shirt.
I think the lack of mirrors in the lift makes the situation seem so much worse. It makes it feel even more claustrophobic, and with each minute that goes by, it feels like the lift gets smaller and smaller. I swear, Tom and I are getting closer together – then again, we’ve always been like a moth to a flame with each other.
‘Right, that’s it,’ he says clapping his hands. ‘I’m sure, under the circumstances, this will be completely fine.’
Tom opens up the room service cart and pulls out small packets of biscuits – the kind you usually find with the tea and coffee making facilities – and several mini bottles of alcohol. He lays them out on the floor in front of us.
‘Here’s what’s going to happen, OK? You’re going to drink a couple of these little bottles, you’re going to eat a few biscuits, and we’re going to talk about whatever you want.’
I sigh.
‘OK, sure.’
‘OK,’ he says in a way more enthusiastic tone than me. ‘So, I want to get a good pairing for you … here’s a mini bottle of vodka and a packet of chocolate chip cookies.’
I give him a half-hearted smile as I thank him. When my anger starts to dissolve, I forget why I was even mad at him in the first place.
‘So, what shall we talk about?’ he says.
I shrug my shoulders.
‘We could talk about why you and Alan were in the pond,’ he suggests. ‘I’ve been wondering.’
‘It wasn’t just me and Alan,’ I say. ‘It was me, Fi, Zach, Matt, Clarky and Ed. Alan just jumped in to save me from the snakes. He reckons there are snakes in the pond, but I didn’t see any.’
Only the ones I’m friends with.
‘You were all in the pond?’ he replies in disbelief.
‘Have you seen the bridge that goes from one side of the pond to the other?’
‘The beautiful old wooden one?’ he replies. ‘Yeah.’
‘Yeah, it isn’t there anymore,’ I reply. ‘We broke it.’
‘You broke it? How?’
‘We were all arguing on it.’
‘You were all arguing on it?’
‘There’s a weird echo in this lift,’ I joke. ‘We just … all fell out … with everyone … simultaneously.’
‘Can I ask why?’
‘Because of stuff that happened at uni,’ I say. ‘I know, stupid, right?’
‘Give me the abridged version,’ he says as he tosses back a tiny bottle of Jack Daniels with a custard cream chaser.
I take a deep breath.
‘Well … ten years ago, when we had that New Year’s Eve party, Zach was finally going to tell Fi that he loved her, except Ed got drunk and crashed Matt’s car. Zach and I covered for him, but because Zach was late home, Fi slept with Clarky. Ed saw, and blurted it out drunk today. Zach found out and kicked off. Matt found out Ed crashed his car and didn’t tell him, and I found out that Matt gave my costume away to Cleo, which is why you thought she was me, which is why you kissed her and she wound up your girlfriend instead of me – but we don’t talk about that, do we?’
‘Wow,’ he replies.
‘And just when you think the day can’t get any worse, I go to find Pete, the man offering me a fresh start and a new job and a relationship … and I find out he’s married. So I’m going to have to assume none of what he said was real, he was just trying to shag me because his wife wasn’t around – his pregnant wife, no less – and I was stupid enough to fall for it.’
I breathe quickly because I think I spat all that out at Tom in maybe two or three breaths. I feel tears prickle my eyes. You know what, I’m going to take my metaphorical hat off to myself, because I’ve made it this far through the day without crying. But, really, what’s the point in playing it cool now, huh?
Tom scoots across the lift floor on his bum. He sits next to me and wraps an arm around me, pulling me close.
‘He’s an arsehole,’ Tom tells me in a very matter of fact way. ‘Plain and simple. But you didn’t fall for him – you didn’t fall for it.’
‘I was knocking on his hotel door when you found me,’ I point out.
‘You would’ve realised,’ he says. ‘And if you hadn’t, well, I would’ve been knocking on the door within five minutes with some excuse to get you out of there. I would have saved you.’
‘Why, did you know he was married?’
‘I didn’t,’ he admits. ‘That would’ve been much less embarrassing than the reality … I was jealous. I was going to interrupt you and drag you out of there under false pretences … because I was jealous.’
‘You have no right to be jealous,’ I tell him. ‘Cleo wouldn’t be happy with you being jealous.’
‘Why do you care so much about what Cleo thinks?’ he asks me. Now it’s his turn to sound annoyed.
‘I don’t care,’ I say defensively. ‘She’s your girlfriend, not mine.’
‘I already told you, she’s not my girlfriend anymore. She hasn’t been for a long time.’
‘I heard her talking about how the two of you were getting back together.’
‘Ooh, you got me,’ he says sarcastically. ‘Luca, Cleo and I are not getting back together. She suggested it today, but I shot her down. Gently, obviously.’
‘You won’t even get back with her for the baby?’ I ask.
‘No,’ he replies confidently.
‘Don’t you think that’s awful?’
‘No?’ he replies. ‘It’s not my job to raise someone else’s kid, with a woman I don’t love. I feel bad for them, sure, but not to the point where I’d throw my own life or happiness away.’
‘Wait, what? Cleo isn’t having your baby?’
‘Of course she isn’t,’ he replies. ‘We broke up years ago. Wait, have you spent all day thinking I knocked her up and bailed on her?’
I feel my cheeks flush.
‘Possibly,’ I reply sheepishly.
‘Why on earth would you think so little of me?’ he asks.
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ I reply. ‘You spent all Christmas telling me we were going to be together and then you kissed a girl half my height “thinking it was me” and wound up with her instead.’
‘Luca, I was young, I was an idiot. If I’m being completely honest, I was scared too. I was so protective of you, I was terrified of someone hurting you. I spent all Christmas thinking about you, looking forward to seeing you, but worrying it was going to destroy our friendship if we got together. I did kiss Cleo thinking she was you, but when I realised my mistake … I was so embarrassed, and I didn’t want to tell her that I thought she was someone else. As we chatted, I realise that not only was I scared of someone hurting you, but I was terrified of it being me. Cleo gave me an easy out, and I did like her … I loved you, but—’
‘You loved me?’
‘Is that reaction to the fact or the tense?’
‘Both,’ I admit.
Tom twists around a little, to look me in the eye.
‘Maybe it’s a stretch, to believe that we’re meant to be, or on some kind of course correction path,’ he says mockingly. ‘Maybe it’s a coincidence that our song was playing when we danced – our song with those lyrics. And we’re both here at this wedding, bumping into each other after all these years. We find out we’re living in the same city now. Fate or coincidence – who cares? We both took roads away from each other and look what’s happened, they’ve led us right back to each other.’
‘So?’
‘So I don’t care how or why we’ve been brought back together,’ he says. ‘I’m just happy that we have.’
I think for a moment.
‘Is it that easy?’
‘It’s as easy as you want it to be,’ he says. ‘What do you want, do you want me to beg? I’ve already given you the shirt off my back – I could take off my pants?’
I smile.
‘It couldn’t hurt,’ I reply.
‘Oh, a joke,’ he replies. ‘She’s making jokes, she must be forgiving me.’
‘Don’t count your chickens too soon,’ I tell him.
‘Well, how about this … I did love you back then. I still love you now. I’ll always love you, if you’ll let me.’
Tears escape my eyes again.
‘Please don’t be upset,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll shut up now.’
Before I have a chance to say anything, Tom throws back another mini bottle of booze.
‘I’m not upset,’ I tell him. ‘I … I love you too. Always have. Always will.’
‘Yeah, but I already said that,’ he jokes. ‘You can’t use recycled material on me.’
‘OK, well, how about this,’ I start, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I lean forward and kiss him, and it’s exactly the kind of kiss you’d expect after over a decade of build-up. It’s messy, weirdly sexy, passionate, and I’m pretty sure I’m still crying.
‘Hmm, not bad,’ he replies with a cheeky smile. ‘Can we try again?’
In one swift move, Tom swipes me into his arms and pins me down on the lift floor. He runs his hands up my body as we kiss, but we’re interrupted by a loud noise, which quickly separates us.
Oh, how bloody typical, that I’m going to die in this carpet-covered lift, moments after I’ve finally got my hands on the thing I’ve wanted the most, my entire adult life.
‘It’s OK,’ he reassures me. ‘They’re probably just getting it moving again.’
I squeeze Tom tightly. Why do I get the feeling I’m about to plummet to my death?
It’s somehow even scarier when the bottom part of the door that we can see above us is opened slightly, and a horrific looking arm reaches inside and starts aimlessly grabbing at the air.
‘Oh my God,’ I blurt.
It’s massive, with blotchy orange skin covered in green and black gunk. Wait a minute …
‘Luca? Are you in there?’
‘Alan?’ I call back.
Suddenly his face appears in the gap, like Jack Nicholson in The Shining.
‘My name is Al now.’
Well, like Jack Nicholson in The Shining, but with a much less terrifying catchphrase.
‘Are you two … are you naked?’
‘Tom gave me his shirt,’ I say. ‘Because I was dirty from the pond.’
I’m scared that if I give Alan any indication that Tom and I have kissed, he won’t save us.
‘Why are you so dirty still?’ I ask him.
‘Matt lost his wedding ring down there,’ he says. ‘I promised him I’d find it before his wife realised.’
‘Any luck?’ Tom asks him.
‘Of course,’ he replies. ‘I’m Al Atlantic.’
‘Very impressive,’ I reply and, do you know what? I don’t think I’m being sarcastic.
‘And for my final trick,’ he starts. Alan uses his strength to force open the lift door.
‘OK, take my hand, I’ll pull you out,’ he says.
‘What?’ Tom replies. He doesn’t seem overly happy with this arrangement.
‘I’ll pull you out, one at a time,’ he says.
‘I’m sure I could climb, now the door is open,’ Tom says.
Alan just laughs.
‘Just let me pull you out, chief.’
‘God, this is so emasculating,’ Tom says quietly to me.
I kiss him on the cheek.
‘See you on the outside,’ I say.
I reach up and take Alan’s hand. In a couple of seconds he’s pulled me up and out of the lift, like I’m weightless.
‘Come on then, big fella,’ he says to Tom patronisingly, although I don’t think he means it maliciously.
I hug Alan and thank him.
‘Erm, are you two … you know,’ he says.
‘Are we …?’ Tom replies.
‘Are you two finally together?’ he asks.
Neither of us says anything. Well, are we?
‘I always kind of suspected you’d end up together,’ Alan replies. ‘Well, you have my blessing.’
I smile and I hug him again – this time like I really mean it.
‘The lift mechanics are on their way,’ he says. ‘I might stick around, see if they need anything lifting.’
‘Like the building?’ I joke.
‘Exactly.’ He winks at me.
‘I’m going to go and finally wash the pond off me,’ I say. ‘Night Al.’
‘Night Luca.’
We head for the stairwell. I need to go downstairs and head outside to get to the cottages. Tom on the other hand, is back up the stairs.
‘Let me walk you to your room,’ he insists.
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘I don’t want you going outside alone,’ he says. ‘My granny always used to say these things happen in fours.’
‘I thought things happened in threes?’
‘They do,’ he replies. ‘But you’ve fallen on the dance floor, fallen off a bridge and got stuck in a lift. I think you’ve had your three, but I really want an excuse to spend more time with you.’
I smile. ‘Well, that’s OK then.’
Tom takes me by the hand and we head downstairs together.
‘We must look ridiculous,’ I tell him, as we approach the bar.
‘Just walk with confidence,’ he says. ‘No one will notice.’
We walk through the bar without anyone batting an eyelid – mostly because it’s empty. Everyone is out dancing under the marquee.
Outside, walking across the gravel car park, we bump into none other than Pete. He’s talking on his phone but when he sees us, he quickly ends his call.
‘Luca, I was looking everywhere for you,’ he says. ‘You’re not wearing clothes … neither of you are … and you’re holding hands.’
‘Technically we’re wearing a whole outfit between us,’ Tom informs him playfully.
Pete ignores him.
‘Luca, you’re not getting back with him?’ he says. ‘After the way he treated you.’
‘I mean, I’m not technically getting back with him,’ I reply. ‘We were never together. Hey, was that your wife on the phone?’
Pete looks mortified.
‘W-w-what?’ he stutters.
‘Your w-w-wife,’ I reply.
‘Luca, I can explain.’
‘Don’t bother.’
I start walking towards my room, pulling Tom along with me, but Pete gets in my way.
‘Luca,’ he says, starting to sound agitated.
Tom immediately drops my hand, grabs Pete by the lapels and pushes him away from me.
‘Tom, don’t,’ I say.
I’m terrified he’s going to hit him – it’s not that he doesn’t deserve it, but I don’t want Tom getting in trouble. Tom squares up to him.
‘I could hit you,’ Tom tells him. ‘I could punch you in the face … but that might get you some sympathy, and I don’t want that. I don’t want anyone being nice to you. Instead, I want you to go home, and I want you to look your wife in the eye every day, and kiss her goodnight every night, and know what a piece of rubbish you are. You don’t deserve your family.’
Tom lets go of him.
‘Now piss off,’ he says.
Pete, like a frightened little kid, scurries off inside.
‘Wow,’ I blurt. ‘What was that?’
‘I think they call it psychological warfare,’ he says with a laugh. ‘I could’ve hit him, but I didn’t want to hurt my hand. I need it.’
‘What do you need it for?’ I ask, stroking his face.
‘This,’ he says, scooping me up. ‘It’s tradition I carry you across this car park.’
‘Well, I can’t argue with tradition.’
Tom carries me up the steps to my room and gently places me down outside the door.
‘OK, well …’
‘Well,’ I reply. ‘You didn’t carry me inside this time.’
‘I didn’t. Given recent developments, I didn’t want you to think I was inviting myself in. I didn’t want you thinking I was trying to have sex with you – you could probably do without another person trying to have sex with you, right?’
‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘Or maybe what I need is for someone who I actually want to have sex with to try and have sex with me. Did you think of that?’
‘To be honest I’ve thought about nothing else since I saw you earlier,’ he says, biting his lip. ‘You looked amazing in that dress – and you look incredible in my shirt. I think the towel was my favourite though.’
‘Yeah, I saw you peeping,’ I laugh.
‘You were staring at my body first,’ he points out. ‘I was just levelling the playing field.’
I smile as I unlock my door.
‘Thomas Oliver Hoult,’ I start, in my most formal of tones. ‘Would you like to join me in my hotel room?’
‘I would like that very much, Miss Wade.’
Unwilling to wait another second, I throw myself at him – literally. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist as we kiss. Tom walks through the door, completely unable to see where he’s going. As I feel him about to place me down on the bed, I call out for him to stop.
‘What? What’s wrong?’ he replies.
‘Twin beds,’ I say breathlessly. ‘Remember, they’re twin beds.’
We both peer down at the gap between the beds where Tom was just about to try and put me down.
‘That would’ve been the fourth thing, for sure,’ he jokes.
Tom places me down gently.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m pushing the beds together,’ he says.
‘Now?’
‘Yep.’
‘It’s late and you’re kind of drunk,’ I point out.
‘That just means I’m motivated and blind to any strain it’s going to put on my back,’ he replies as he finally shoves them together.
‘You think that’s going to put strain on your back …’ I say.
I push Tom back onto the Franken-bed and climb on top of him.
As I lean forward to kiss him, my hair falls in front of my face and I catch a powerful whiff of the pond smell.
‘I’m going to have a shower,’ I tell him. ‘Because I don’t want to smell like sewage for our first time.’
‘Maybe that’s what is doing it for me?’ he jokes.
I begin to climb off him before pressing back down on top of him.
‘You tease,’ he says.
I shrug my shoulders.
‘OK, I really am going this time,’ I say. ‘Make yourself comfortable, put the TV on if you like – I watched Kitchen Nightmares around this time last night, it was actually really good.’
Tom laughs.
‘I’ll wash all this junk off me, and I’ll be right back.’
‘Don’t be long,’ he calls after me. ‘I miss you already.’
I take off my shirt, run a wipe over my face to remove my smudged make-up, and finally step into the shower. Now that it’s a little cooler, the warm water feels amazing and it’s just so nice to feel clean finally.
I hear a knock on the bathroom door.
‘Erm … come in.’
‘I was just thinking,’ Tom starts. ‘Maybe I’ll join you.’
‘You’ll join me?’
‘Yeah,’ he says, pulling back the shower curtain before stepping into the bath with me. That’s when I realise he’s naked. ‘I thought I could wash your back for you or something.’
Tom carefully ushers me back under the rainfall shower before we pick up where we left off.
‘Plus, I’ve been waiting ten years to get my hands on you,’ he adds. ‘I don’t want to waste another second.’