Chapter 14
? Relatable klutz
The rain was coming down heavily again. I still didn’t have a bloody
brolly, but I did have a beer jacket. Or should that be a Prosecco
poncho?
Tom rummaged in his boot for a few seconds and emerged with a giant golf umbrella. He pressed a button and a canopy for two silently unfurled.
Our feet crunched in unison on the disintegrated tarmac lane that ran directly between the pub and the cul-de-sac. The same lane that I now remembered used to lead up to the allotments.
A vein in Tom’s forehead was making itself known as I stole a look at him out of the corner of my eye, his mouth set in a tight line.
He was quite obviously furious about what had just happened with Darren.
But I didn’t want to dwell on it. I took a few deep breaths, my mind automatically flicking through its archive of random conversation starters to disperse the tension.
My drunkenness made the available files more abstract than usual.
‘So, Thomas. Riddle me this: do you reckon that if aliens landed on earth on a rainy day, they’d think that our umbrellas were part of our exoskeleton?’
Tom momentarily stopped walking, turned to me and shook his head, smiling his big Brinton smile, before continuing on. ‘It’s not something I’ve ever given much thought to. I mean, maybe. Also, I know you’re trying to divert my attention from what just went down in there, Mal.’
‘Huh. Busted.’
‘You don’t want to talk about it?’
‘Gotta be honest with you, Thomas – I reckon I’m a bit too pissed for deep and meaningfuls right now.’
‘Ha. I hadn’t noticed. How much do you reckon you drank?’
‘No bloody idea. Though I do seem to remember requesting a straw for my bottle of Prosecco at one point.’
‘Classy.’
I elbowed him in the ribs.
‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry, I went for playful nudge…’
‘Well, I think your elbows are pointier than you realise.’
‘I sharpen them every night before bed. Ryman sell everything these days, you know.’
‘You’re weird.’
‘I know. Thanks.’
I pulled up my honey-I-blew-up-the-scarf further around my face, and slipped on a patch of black ice as I did so. Tom grabbed my waist to stop me from falling.
‘Cheers. These bloody shoes have…’ I slipped again. ‘…no grip.’
‘I think it might be easier if you just grab on to me.’
I did. I wrapped my right arm around his slender yet solid waist, noting how my head fitted perfectly in the nook where the top of his arm met his chest.
‘Oh, I kind of meant hold on to my arm, but this works nicely too.’
I would normally have let go but I was pissed and wobbly and he was warm and it felt safe there. So I didn’t.
We walked in silence to the front door. I’d made sure that my hand had found the key already this time. But when I tried to insert it into the lock my coordination repeatedly failed me.
‘Sorry, I think I might need some help to…?’
I handed him the keys, trying my best not to fixate on the all-over goosebumps the sensation of his fingers touching mine for a nanosecond during the exchange had caused. He pushed the door open and stood aside to let me pass, handing me back my key.
‘Fancy, er, coming in out of the cold for a bit?’ It was a good job I didn’t know the questionable lyrics to ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’ as otherwise I’m pretty sure I’d have burst into drunken song.
He cocked his head to the right, appearing to think for a couple of beats. ‘I’d like that. But I’ve got another early start tomorrow so I really can’t stay for long.’
‘Long enough for a hot chocolate?’ Man, I was storming through the Christmas movie tropes tonight.
‘Yeah, go on, then.’
He wiped his feet on the doormat and removed his shoes. I realised it was probably the first time I’d ever seen Tom Brinton’s socks. They were bright red.
‘Could you pull that curtain across the door?’ I asked. ‘Without wanting to sound like an awkward customer in a Brewers Fayre, there’s a nasty draught and me and the thermostat appear to be mortal enemies.’
‘Your accent is stronger when you’re drunk.’
‘Arrrrrk at ’ee! In what way?’
He pulled the thick material across the rickety front door. ‘Well, you just said “naaaaasty draaaaaught”. I’m pretty if you were sober you’d say “narsty draurght”.’
I put my hands on my hips in mock outrage and swivelled on my heel. A little too quickly, as it turned out: I’d intended to walk towards the kitchen at the end of the hallway, but ended up turning ninety degrees too far and walking into the wall instead.
‘Ow,’ I said, rubbing my nose, noticing that my extremities were feeling numb and tingly.
‘Right, come on, let’s get you sorted out. Go and sit through there and I’ll get you a glass of water.’
‘But I was going to make you a steaming mug of delicious cocoa!’
‘Calm down, Mrs Claus. I’ll see what I can rustle up.’
I plonked myself down on the hardest sofa in the world and was suddenly conscious of the lack of places to sit in the room.
There was only this leatherette two-seater tub settee and a glass coffee table, which someone had evidently attempted to wipe clean with an abrasive product that had left a permanent misty smudge on the surface.
‘Hey, Mally?’ Tom called through from the kitchen.
‘Mmm?’
He walked into the living room. He was holding my bingo sheets with a bewildered expression on his face.
‘What are these, then?’
My mind flashed to that moment at the end of Bridget Jones’s Diary when Mark Darcy stumbles across Bridget’s secret journal. I definitely didn’t want to end up chasing him down the road dressed in nothing but my underwear and a flimsy cardigan. But fuck it, why shouldn’t I tell him?
‘Argh. Okay. I need to swear you to secrecy about this…’
‘Oooooookay. Why? What’s going on?’
‘So, this is the assignment that Elle’s given me for The Helix .’
He looked at the sheets again, a look of total bafflement on his face as he read through the lists.
‘Yeah, I just don’t get it.’
‘Pay attention, Thomas, as this is a bit complicated and I’m not exactly at my most coherent right now. But. Fuck, where do I start? Right. Have you ever watched one of those corny Christmas movies on Channel 5? You know, the ones that start at about three o’clock in the afternoon?’
‘Oh God, you know what? My mum loves those films. Yeah, I ended up watching one or two of those with her over lockdown. They were…’
‘Fucking brilliant, right?’
‘Ha, well I’m not sure I’d go that far, but I guess they’re oddly compelling in their own way.’
‘Well, your mum’s got great taste because I love them too, and that’s why I’m here.’
‘To watch corny Christmas films?’
‘Nope. To, er, try and experience one of them.’
‘Oh. Ooh. This is all starting to make sense now. So that thing with your car – that was real, right?’
‘Yes! But it fits the formula perfectly. I couldn’t believe it when you started pounding on my car like that.’
‘I tapped assertively on the window, Mal. I wouldn’t describe that as a “pounding”.’
Melting face emoji.
‘So the “car drama” one’s ticked off,’ he continued, after a quick ruffle of his thick hair. ‘What else… what else… Oh, and you’ve got loads of ticks next to “relatable klutz”.’
‘Welcome to my day-to-day existence. At least two of my klutzy moments were with you.’
‘You can add a couple more ticks after that walk back. What else can you check off after tonight?’
‘Ooh, let’s see.’
He handed over the sheets and disappeared back into the kitchen, appearing soon after with a pint of water and a Nutrigrain bar. He plonked himself down onto the miniscule sofa next to me. I scanned through the lists, my eyes finding it harder to focus than usual.
‘Ooh! Here’s one – “festive-themed contest”. The pub quiz totally counts with those Christmas rounds, right?’ I ventured.
‘I’d say so.’
I fished a pen out of my handbag and put a giant tick mark next to it.
‘This one sounds a bit dramatic – “a hasty departure”,’ Tom said.
‘Oh, that’s the best one of all. They always manage to shoehorn in some conflict between the romantic leads, prompting one of them to scarper back to the city.
But it all gets magically resolved a few scenes later.
Seriously, though, pleeeeease don’t mention this to anyone else.
I’m going to be writing the article anomy – anonynous – under a fake name. ’
Tom snorted, his shoulders shaking in amusement. I shot him a look – aiming for faux annoyance but probably achieving something closer to drunken mess – before continuing.
‘And Scarnbrook won’t even be named. I’ve kind of been strong-armed into it, truth be told.’
‘By Elle?’
‘Mmm-hmmm. And I really can’t have my parents finding out.’
‘Shit, your family doesn’t know you’re here?’
I shook my head and placed my inexplicably sticky hands over my face in an attempt to smother my shame. And I didn’t use that word lightly. ‘Nope. Does that make me a really shitty person?’
‘No, of course not. But you always seemed like the kind of family who would be open and honest with each other, that’s all.’
I placed my hands onto my lap and stroked my trousers. ‘Yeah, well, maybe we were once. But… things change, don’t they?’
‘They do.’ He smiled sympathetically before stretching and looking around the room. ‘Not exactly cosy this place, is it?’
‘Nope. You should see the spare bedroom – there’s nothing in it apart from a travel cot that seems to have caved in on itself. I was hoping Elle would find me a cute cottage like Kate Winslet’s place in The Holiday .’
‘Elle?’
‘Yeah, she booked it. Easier for her to expense it that way.’
‘Right, yeah. Do you mind if I put the fire on? It’s bloody freezing in here.’
‘Be my guest – not figured that out yet, either.’
Tom knelt on the floor and leant over to the side of the gas fire to locate the control panel.
His jumper rode up a couple of centimetres as he did so, exposing the tiniest line of bare flesh.
He was still long and lean like he’d been at school, but there was a softness there now that hadn’t been there before.