If I Were You

Chapter 74 Flynn

The dancing has ended, Patty the last to be dragged away, giggling with Laura as she attempts the Macarena. That woman has energy. The hotel staff have laid out striped wooden deckchairs on the lawn, blankets folded on top of them, and the braziers are still crackling as Amy and I collapse into two of them, tucking ourselves in like an old couple on a rainy Brighton beach.

Amy leans back with a contented sigh and shuts her eyes, her shirt rumpled, my suit jacket lost in the melee. ‘What a bloody brilliant wedding,’ she grins to nobody.

My calf muscles ache, or rather Amy’s legs ache from dancing and my head is a woozy mix of booze and contentment. Across the lake on the island the first of the fireworks are let off with a whine and the wedding party all turn as one, heads craned back to stare into the sky at the riot of pops and flashes and colour.

Silvers, pinks, reds, greens burst above us, making us jump, the air smelling of spent smoke. Amy reaches across and puts a hand on my knee, both of us snuggled underneath the blankets and staring up at the spectacle. Laura and Jay stand on the very edge of the lake, pressed together, ready to start their lives together.

The final burst of fireworks is beyond anything I’ve ever seen in my life. The sounds and sights are so extraordinary that both Amy and I have struggled back up on our feet, unable to stop gasping and clapping every time more appear.

‘This is incredible,’ I shout.

Amy turns to me and I suddenly get an overwhelming urge to kiss her.

I think of previous kisses, the feeling I get when our lips meet, my stomach plunging, my skin tingling with anticipation. I’ve never fancied anyone more, never loved anyone more.

‘Can I kiss you?’ I ask, feeling strangely shy all of a sudden.

Amy grins, bow tie loose, top button undone. ‘That’s exactly what I was thinking,’ she says.

She takes another step closer, moving both her arms onto my shoulders. ‘Shall we?’

‘Let’s do it,’ I say.

Swallowing my nerves, staring up at Amy, I exhale slowly. And as I reach up on my toes to find her mouth, trying not to think too hard about what I’m going to feel next, our lips touch. Then there’s a horrified, confused shout in our direction, a strange and terrible whining noise: so very close.

‘Look out!’

‘Shit!’

A scream.

And suddenly the space between us is bright white and burning hot. Squeezing my eyes closed, I pull Amy into me, trying to shield her from whatever is happening. She gasps, I can feel the breath on the top of my hair. Then another flash and I keep on gripping her.

There’s a strange silence as we pull apart seconds later. My brain is in overdrive, adrenaline coursing through me.

‘Are you OK, are you OK?’ I repeat, panic gripping me.

And then I stop.

Because this is my voice, and I’m looking down at Amy. Amy in a pink bridesmaid dress, her hair half up, half down, her expression as bewildered as mine.

‘Flynn,’ she says, staring up at me, her hand reaching to touch my face. Reaching up. Because I’m taller than her.

‘Flynn,’ she repeats and then her face breaks into the most enormous smile. ‘FLYNN!’ she shouts and with zero warning leaps from the spot, wraps her legs around me and sends both of us crashing to the floor.

‘Holy shit!’ she says. ‘Holy shit!’ We’re in a bundle on the grass, people peering round as she kneels up, her legs still round me. ‘Holy shit!’ She frantically pats herself with both hands: her body, her hair, her face, breaking into delighted wonderment.

I’m shaking with laughter on the ground beneath her, feeling the grass tickle my face as I relish the fact that I’m back in my body, although my left eye fucking stings.

We struggle to our feet, both unable to stop reaching for the other, in amazed silence just taking in the fact we are back in our own skin.

‘I can’t believe it,’ she whispers. And her voice cracks a little. ‘I had really started to …’

‘Shh!’ I say, not wanting her to say it.

And instead of fighting me, wanting to see the worst, she simply pulls my finger away and nods.

‘Thank god,’ she says, throwing herself into my arms. ‘Thank god, thank god.’ She draws back and gazes up at me. ‘It is so good to see you.’

Electricity sparks in my stomach.

I clear my throat, my expression serious for a moment.

‘Now we’re back,’ I say, and I take both of her hands in mine, enjoying their soft feel. The electricity leaps and flashes inside me.

‘Oh my god, Flynn. You’re not going to propose, are you?’ she says, worry clouding her expression.

‘Amy Norman,’ I begin firmly, knowing exactly what I need to say, and what she needs to hear.

She looks up at me, her brown eyes round. I can’t believe it’s her. I can’t believe we’re back.

‘Amy Norman, I love you. Will you please do the honour of not marrying me. Will you promise to love me, get to know me better and then maybe reconsider in a couple of years’ time, or when we both feel ready?’

She can’t help the quick snort of laughter, one of her hands flying up to her face trying to stifle it.

Then her face breaks into a wide smile and she throws her arms over my shoulders. Leaning in, her face inches from mine, she whispers, ‘I do. Absolutely. I do.’