Chapter 29 Stephanie
Stephanie
Present day
‘Oh my days,’ Micah said, helping himself to a bowl of my Coco Pops. ‘You asked him on a date.’
‘Not a date as such, I just asked him to meet me.’
‘For a date?’
‘Do your parents not feed you?’ I said, snatching the cereal box away from him before he finished the whole thing.
‘Not enough.’ He grinned at me then started shovelling Coco Pops into his mouth. ‘So what did he say?’
‘Who?’
‘Finn. What did he say when you asked him on a date?’
‘I didn’t ask him.’
Micah looked at me over the top of his spoon, milk dripping on to the floor.
‘None of this is making sense.’
‘Please wipe that up,’ I said. ‘It makes sense to me and that’s what’s important because I’m the one going.’
‘On the date.’
I laughed despite myself. ‘Yes, on the date. Now can you please leave me alone and let me get ready?’
Micah put his empty bowl into the sink. ‘What are you going to wear?’
‘Are you seriously asking me that?’
He fixed me with a steely glare. ‘Do you want my help or not?’
‘Not, actually.’
‘Fine. Wear that blue sparkly thing.’
‘My one and only party top?’
‘Is it blue and sparkly?’
‘It is.’
‘Then that’s it. Wear that one.’
‘Okay.’
‘By the way,’ he said in an offhand fashion. ‘I joined art club.’
‘At school?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Obvs. Don’t make a big deal of it.’
I bit my tongue and instead just said: ‘Sounds good.’
Micah looked pleased. ‘And I was thinking about those letters and that?’
‘What about them?’
‘You should write to your brother.’
I stared at him. ‘What? No.’
‘Not for him. He sounds like a loser. But for you. Might make you feel better.’
‘I doubt it.’
He shrugged. ‘Then it don’t matter. You’re just the same as you were before.’
‘I thought you were going?’
‘You know I’m right.’
I shook my head, but I was laughing. ‘Get out of here, and let me get ready.’
He headed towards the door. ‘Good luck on your date, Steve,’ he said. ‘Text me when you get home, yeah?’
‘It’s Stevie,’ I called as I heard him clattering down the stairs outside.
I smiled to myself. He was a sweetheart, bless him.
And a nice distraction from the nerves that were crippling me.
What if Finn hadn’t seen the message? What if he didn’t turn up?
What if he’d seen it and he still didn’t turn up?
‘Maybe I should cancel?’ I said aloud. But then what if I messaged him to cancel and he hadn’t seen the note and he didn’t know what I was talking about?
I’d have to explain and how embarrassing would that be?
I shoved my hand in the Coco Pops box and dropped a few bits of crunchy rice into my mouth.
Ah, I’d have to go to The Vine. But I wouldn’t wear my sparkly top – I didn’t want to look as though I was trying too hard. God this was impossible.
In the end I put on my best jeans and a plain black vest top. But then I thought I looked like I wasn’t trying hard enough, so I added some glittery flip-flops and dangly earrings.
‘Urgh,’ I said, looking at my reflection. But I had to get to The Vine on time because if Finn did turn up, I didn’t want him to think I hadn’t turned up.
I picked up my bag and headed outside to walk to the bar – for once I wasn’t going to cycle – but when I got downstairs, Bernie was just getting into his car. I’d not seen him for ages, so I stopped to say hello.
‘Need a lift?’ he asked and I accepted gratefully because it looked like it was going to rain again and I was, after all, wearing flip-flops.
*
My nerves vanished as soon as I got to The Vine. Finn was sitting at the bar, wearing a very nice shirt and as soon as he saw me, he looked so pleased and also relieved, that I didn’t feel worried anymore.
‘God, I was convinced I’d totally misinterpreted that message and I’d be sitting here like a lemon,’ he said getting up off his stool to greet me with a kiss on the cheek.
‘I was convinced you’d not see the note, or you’d see it and pretend you hadn’t,’ I told him.
He looked serious for a second. ‘Why on earth would I do that? I was really pleased you’d invited me out.’
I ducked my head, embarrassed by his compliment. ‘Shall we sit down? Tara reserved a table for us – it’s the one in the corner.’
Finn held out his hand and I took it. It felt completely natural to entwine my fingers in his.
‘Lead the way,’ he said.
*
Admittedly, I’d not been on loads of first dates, but the ones I had been on – even with men who I went on to have proper relationships with, like my last boyfriend, Si, – had been awkward and clunky.
I’d talked too much, or not enough, worried about what to order, laughed too loudly or in the wrong places, and gone home and agonised over every word and every look.
But with Finn things were different.
Maybe it was because we’d already spent time together, or because we had Elsie and her mystery man to talk about, but there were no uncomfortable silences, no jokes that I didn’t get or silly comments for him to roll his eyes at. We just had a really good time.
‘I’ve found a list of the casualties from the bomb at Biggin Hill,’ Finn told me over our first round of drinks. ‘Lots of women.’
‘Women pilots?’
He shook his head. ‘No, there were female pilots during the war, but not at Biggin Hill. These were from the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force. They’d have been providing support to the base.’
‘So perhaps Elsie’s secret lover was a woman?’
He shook his head. ‘The women and the most seriously injured men all went to a different hospital – closer to Biggin Hill. They must have had space for them. It was only the men who came to South London District Hospital. They were supposed to be the less injured chaps, but I believe some of them did die.’
‘That’s so sad, but I guess it’ll help us narrow it down even further.’
‘Indeed.’
‘As long as our bloke isn’t one of the ones who passed away.’
‘I don’t think so, because you said he talks about going back to the base.
’ He smiled at me. ‘I might have missed that page in the book altogether if it hadn’t been for you.
I was concentrating more on the messages from others, and what they told us about the Blitz in South London, but you went straight to Elsie. ’
‘It sounds weird but I feel sort of connected to her,’ I said.
‘Like with her brother, and not having parents. I mean, obviously my brother and my parents aren’t dead, but they are …
’ I thought about the right word. ‘Absent. And I like the idea of saying the things you want to say before it’s too late. ’
A picture of Micah telling me to write to Max popped into my head and I pushed it away.
Finn was looking at me.
‘What?’ I said.
‘This project – the mural and the new book – they’re important, you know? It’s a good thing that you’re doing.’
‘Well, it’s not like I’m saving lives. But I think it’ll be nice for the residents.’
He nodded. ‘I’m sorry you had such a lot of bother with your family,’ he said, reaching across the table to take my hand again.
I dropped my gaze from his, enjoying the feeling of his skin against mine. ‘Thank you.’ I grinned at him. ‘Tell me about your family. Are they normal?’
*
Finn did not live close enough to The Vine, or to me, to walk me home. But he did it anyway and I was glad. We strolled through the mild evening, chatting about everything and nothing.
When we reached the black gates that led to Bernie’s driveway I stopped. ‘This is me,’ I said.
Finn’s jaw dropped. ‘You live here?’ He gazed through the fence at the large house at the end of the drive.
‘Yes and no.’ I reached up and turned his head to the side so he was looking at the garage. ‘I live up there.’
He frowned. ‘Because you look after the cars overnight?’
‘Because when Max went to prison, everything got a bit messy for a while and I needed somewhere to live, and my dad called in a favour from an old friend. He lives in the big house with his family – he’s Micah’s dad, you met Micah – and I live in the granny annexe.’
‘And your dad’s in Portugal?’
‘He is.’ I screwed my nose up. ‘He’s not exactly what you’d call a “hands-on” dad. I’ve not seen him for a while.’
Finn nodded, his eyes taking in the house and the garage.
‘You’re very independent,’ he said. ‘It’s impressive.’
I gave a snort. ‘Well I’ve had to be. I’ve got no one else to rely on.’ I felt a sudden wave of self-pity. ‘Everyone just leaves anyway.’
Finn put his arm round me and pulled me close to him. I melted into him, thinking how well we fitted together.
‘I love how you don’t need anyone to look after you,’ he said into my hair.
‘But you should know that I’m definitely not going to leave you,’ he said.
And then he kissed me and it was strange because I’d wanted it to happen all night really and I’d felt the attraction between us fizzing and crackling the whole way home, so I’d have thought it would be like fireworks or a fuse being lit.
But actually, what I thought was: ‘Oh, there you are.’ It was as though I had been waiting for him, but I hadn’t even known it.
And because of that, when he said goodnight, I wasn’t even disappointed that he wasn’t coming in. There was no rush.
He stayed by the gate until I’d reached my front door.
‘I’ll message you,’ he called, waving to me as he sauntered away. I saw his face lit up by his phone screen – obviously looking for an Uber – and for the millionth time that day I thought how nice-looking he was. Not Love Island perfect perhaps, but handsome all the same.
Inside my flat I shut the door and leaned against it dreamily like a heroine in a romcom. I felt as though Finn’s arms were still around me, holding me close, making me feel cared for. It was a good feeling.
My phone rang in my back pocket, buzzing against the door and making me jump, which broke the mood a little. I pulled it out. It was Tara.
‘Tell me everything,’ she said when I answered. ‘Every gory detail. How was it? Is he there? Can you talk?’
I kicked off my sparkly flip-flops and walked barefoot into the kitchen to turn on the kettle. ‘It was lovely. He’s not here. I can talk.’
‘He’s not there? I thought you two were hot for each other. He kept touching your arm.’
‘Were you watching us the whole time?’
‘Pretty much.’ Tara sounded unapologetic.
I sighed happily. ‘He’s perfect, Tara. Funny and clever and gorgeous. And he gets me.’
‘He’d better,’ she said. ‘How did you leave it?’
‘He said he’d message me.’
‘Has he?’
‘Give him a chance – he won’t even be home yet.’
‘Well, he’d better not mess you around, that’s all I’m saying. If a guy says he’s going to message my friend Stevie, I want him to message.’
*
And he did. Just not in the way I was expecting. When I got to Tall Trees late the following afternoon to start my bedtime shift, I found the new book in my locker. And when I opened it up, there was a message from Finn underneath my little sketches.
He’d started with a fairly rubbish approximation of my telly with an S on the screen. It made me smile.
“I can’t draw,” he’d written. “But I wanted to say I had a lovely time. Are you free on Friday? I thought I’d take you to a museum.
Never let it be said I don’t know how to show a girl a good time!
” He signed off with a little fish and an arrow pointing to its fin. Which was, I thought, extremely cute.
Hugging myself in delight, I wrote underneath: “Yes please. I love museums. What time and where?”
I took the book and walked along the hallway to leave it in Finn’s cubbyhole, passing Helen on the way.
‘Still doing that, are you?’ she said. ‘My mammy always said there was no point flogging a dead horse. I thought everyone would have lost interest by now.’
‘Everyone’s on board,’ I said airily, though I’d been so excited about Finn’s message that I hadn’t checked to see who else had written. ‘It’s going very well, thank you.’
‘Humph,’ said Helen, striding past me towards her room at such a pace that I was reminded again how fit and active she seemed compared to some of our residents.
Refusing to let her grumpy demeanour ruin my good mood, I hurried off to leave the book for Finn. If I was quick, I’d have time to pop in and have a cup of tea with Nan before I had to go and get Val ready for bed.