Chapter 25

Beth

‘If we’re going to spend the day together today, there’s something you need to know about me,’ I announced to Nick when he arrived at the hotel.

His eyes narrowed as he studied me intently. ‘Go on,’ he urged suspiciously.

‘I love all of the ceremony, history and tradition of the royal family,’ I said boldly. ‘I know The Firm represents an antiquated system. I know the institution represents colonisation and oppression across the Commonwealth, and especially for the First Nations people of Australia. And I think it’s ridiculous that we still award power to people based on their progeny. But there’s something about it all that I find …’

I searched for a word to summarise the admiration I felt for an institution governed by centuries-old rules and regulations and the envy I had for those born into aristocracy; I wished my family had been more structured and predictable.

‘… reassuring,’ I said finally.

‘Phew,’ he exhaled deeply. ‘You had me worried then. That’s fine. Me too.’

‘Really? You do?’

‘Well, yes, in principle,’ Nick replied. ‘I mean, there are many things that could use a shake-up. But I’ve lived my life against the backdrop of the royal family. It’s hard not to have a soft spot for them.’

I was glad to hear this, as most of the activities I had planned for the day included paying homage to the family that had dominated my history books, appeared on my currency and consumed my imagination for as long as I could remember.

I detailed my plans to visit the Tower of London and Kensington Palace.

‘But first,’ I said, producing two tickets I had purchased through the hotel, ‘the London Eye.’

Nick’s left eye twitched, in what was definitely not a wink.

‘I hope that’s okay,’ I asked rhetorically. I had scheduled the entire day around our London Eye session time and based on the most efficient way of navigating the city by public transport. And I’d purchased non-refundable tickets; changing the plan now was completely out of the question.

‘Sure. Yes. Great,’ he said, a little too enthusiastically. ‘This will be great. I’ve never been on the London Eye. So … great.’ He smiled broadly as he fiddled vigorously with the arms of the sunglasses he was holding. ‘Great,’ he repeated. ‘Let’s get going then.’

A bus and tube trip later, we stood in line with the hordes of other tourists at the base of the London Eye.

Nick had been quieter than normal en route to the attraction, except to disclose that he ‘wasn’t great with heights’. He insisted that he was keen to join me on the wheel, but his constant fidgeting, furrowed brow and the fact he’d been to the bathroom twice since we’d arrived at the attraction suggested otherwise.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ I asked after I noticed a film of sweat had formed on his top lip. ‘You don’t have to come up with me. I can see if I can sell your ticket to someone in the queue, and we can meet up after I finish.’

‘It’s fine,’ he said unconvincingly. I’m fine. It will be—’

‘Fine?’ I offered.

He smiled sheepishly.

As we were called to board the pod, Nick grabbed my hand and exhaled deeply before he made his way to the centre of the vessel and sat on the surfboard-shaped bench. We had joined an older couple whom we later discovered were German; a mother, father and two surly looking teens; and a couple with thick Mancunian accents, who announced to everyone that they were on their honeymoon, although they needn’t have bothered – their public display of intimacy made this an easy guess.

‘Have a good trip, folks,’ the attendant said as he closed the pod door and fastened it shut.

Nick’s breathing quickened.

‘We’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘Besides, whatever happens is fate, right?’

He rolled his eyes and then shut them tightly.

‘You’re not going to keep your eyes closed the entire time, are you?’ I asked after a few moments.

He opened one slightly into a comical reverse-wink.

‘There’s no way I want to see any of this. It’s bad enough imagining how high off the ground I am. There’s no way I want to have that validated.’

‘But the view is the whole point,’ I pleaded. ‘Why did you come on board if you weren’t going to enjoy it?’

‘I never said I would enjoy it, but I came on board because you—’ He paused as the pod stopped moving forward and swayed slightly on the spot. ‘What’s happening?’ he asked urgently, grabbing for my hand. ‘Why are we swaying?’

‘I think we’re just taking on more passengers, mate,’ said the newly married groom. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

Nick opened one of his eyes again for just long enough to see who’d spoken to him.

‘Yes, good. Thanks,’ he muttered, before slamming his eye shut again.

‘You not a fan of heights, mate?’ the groom asked, leaning in and waving his hand in front of Nick’s face to check how tightly closed his eyes were. Nick’s lack of reaction indicated they were ironclad.

‘No. No, not really,’ he replied through a tightly clenched jaw.

After a few more minutes, Nick’s firm grip on my hand had become uncomfortably strong. I exchanged one hand for the other and gave my freed one a shake to resume blood flow to my fingers. The view across the city was spectacular. The sky was mostly clear with a smattering of large, white cumulus clouds and thin white lines – the legacy of planes flying to and from the city. The views stretched to the hazy horizon. I was struck by how flat the city was and, despite its population, how green it looked. It was a testament to the forward thinking of city planners, and good soil.

We climbed towards the maximum height, which the brochure that Nick had shredded to pieces told us was 130 metres.

‘We’re halfway,’ I whispered.

Nick swallowed audibly.

‘The view is amazing, if you want to take a peek,’ I encouraged.

He shook his head defiantly.

‘I still don’t know why you came if you’re so terrified of heights,’ I said, as much to him, as to myself. It made me uncomfortable to see him distressed. I felt I had given him ample opportunities to change his mind about coming, and I didn’t like the idea he had committed to something he didn’t want to do because of me.

‘Do you want me to describe what I can see?’ I offered. ‘I’ll be your eyes.’

He nodded timidly.

I described all the iconic landmarks that I could identify: the sprawling flag atop Buckingham Palace that indicated the King was in town; the iconic London Bridge and The Shard, which rose boldly above the rest of the city’s skyline.

I noticed his rate of hand wringing had slowed since I’d started talking, and his breathing seemed to be calmer. So I carried on.

I told him about the parade of boats that chugged along the sullied waters of the River Thames. And I described the London Eye itself – the steel spokes and cables stretched out from a central point like a giant bicycle wheel.

The muscles around his closed eyes had relaxed slightly and the fine lines that radiated from the corner of his eyes, which usually gathered when he smiled, had softened. With his eyes still closed, I took the opportunity to study his face.

He had a slight bulge on the bridge of his nose, which I assumed was the result of a break. His lightly stubbled jaw contained an array of colour; some strands were quite strawberry, while others were light blond. With the sunlight streaming through the pod behind him, some strands looked golden, framing his lips perfectly.

He opened his eyes the tiniest bit, and caught me staring.

‘Can I help you?’ he said, but not unkindly. I felt my cheeks flush. Thankfully, he lifted his gaze over my shoulder.

We were approaching the bottom of our rotation and were in line with the top of the nearby buildings. Seeing the spectacular sprawling Palace of Westminster was made all the more special when Big Ben started to chime.

‘So this is what I’ve been missing?’ he asked.

‘See. I told you it was an amazing view.’

‘At least I can say I’ve done it now,’ he said. ‘That should shut up my mates. They’ve been trying to get me on it for ages.’

‘Have you always hated heights?’ I didn’t have any phobias, so I found it curious when otherwise rational people had irrational responses towards things. Of course, I exercised caution where needed and avoided unnecessary risk where possible, but I found that I could overcome most concerns with a rigorous risk analysis, some statistical research of likely outcomes and a robust strategy for making sure things went to plan.

‘Sort of.’ He started wringing the brochure again, so I chose not to push it.

‘Well, lunch is on me to celebrate,’ I insisted. ‘It’s the least I can do since you came on this with me.’

‘Sounds good,’ he said, smiling. ‘Although I’d probably have preferred to pay for lunch if it meant I got out of coming on this death trap.’

‘It will be worth it,’ I said. ‘I’ve booked a window table at the restaurant at the top of The Shard.’

His smile dropped.

‘I’m joking,’ I said, standing up as the pod neared the base of the attraction.

‘Ha! Bloody hilarious,’ he said dryly. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we stepped out onto the platform and onto solid ground.