Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
A llie was enjoying her new morning routine. She had got so used to waking up with a feeling of dread that at first she didn’t recognise the new sensation. She had forgotten what it was like to have butterflies, the good kind. Not the kind that made you wonder if you were about to be sick, but the kind that fizzed inside you, sending a delicious thrill of anticipation for the day ahead. Allie would wake, say hi to her new internal butterfly pals, stretch out luxuriously and see how long she could resist before she checked her phone. So far, she had managed forty-eight seconds, but she was hopeful that by the weekend she might get to a minute.
She’d roll onto her stomach and check her messages and every morning so far there would be one from Will. Sometimes it would be something funny that had happened at whatever event he happened to be working at the previous evening. Sometimes it would be something ridiculous his sister had done (she seemed to be a constant source of bemusement and often irritation to Will, and Allie liked to match his stories with ones about Martha). Quite often it would simply be the last message of the conversation they had been having the evening before, and these were the mornings that Allie would wake with no need to roll over to check her phone, because she was still clutching it in her hand.
She grinned as she saw a picture of tiny, yet perfectly formed canapés, which he had sent with the question – ‘are these the right size for you?’ She liked him teasing her, she liked the familiarity it suggested. She liked knowing he was thinking of her, because she sure as hell was thinking of him; sometimes too much. It was great she was feeling so inspired by him to write, but sometimes she drifted off and time ran away from her as she lost herself in a daydream about Will. She couldn’t imagine ever getting bored of him or his funny messages or ever not wanting to hear from him as soon as she woke. But even as she thought this, a new realization of what this cosy familiarity might lead to washed over her and a cold leaden feeling began to travel up from her previously warm and fuzzy toes. It reached and then smothered the butterflies before she allowed herself to acknowledge it. Because what Allie knew, from life, from her previous experiences, was that this too would pass. Sure she might still be happy to hear from Will, she might even catch fleeting memories of what it had been like when they had been in this honeymoon stage, but that’s what this was; the honeymoon stage, the getting to know each other stage. When everything about the other person was endlessly fascinating, when you felt like the only two people in the world who had ever found a soulmate like each other, and when boring mundane stuff hadn’t yet entered the picture. But it would end, and Allie knew it would. Every single boyfriend she’d ever had ended up that way; even Martin and Angie, who seemed to have adored each other in the early days, had now completely lost their way.
And when that happened what would happen to her writing? Where would her creativity spark from?
And so, Allie lay in her bed, no longer feeling the butterflies and instead trying to work out how to get them back and more importantly how to make them stay.
As she made herself a cup of tea she pondered, as she ate her toast she plotted and by the time Jess rang her to check she was still alive because she hadn’t heard from her in almost twenty-four hours she thought she’d cracked it.
‘I’ve figured it out.’
‘Good, great, glad to hear it. What is “it” by the way?’
‘Oh, sorry. I’ve been trying to work out how I keep writing.’
‘Does it involve putting pen to paper?’
‘Ha bloody ha.’
‘Sorry, fingers to keyboard?’
‘No seriously, Jess, listen. OK, so everyone knows that the honeymoon stage of a relationship is the best stage, right?’
‘Weeeeelll maybe….’
‘Maybe? What do you mean maybe?’
‘I’m not convinced.’
Allie paused, startled off course by Jess’s statement. ‘You’re not?’
‘No. I mean yes it’s great in lots of ways. But it’s also exhausting and terrifying. And yes exciting and sexy too. But sometimes I just want to put my big pants on and curl up on the sofa. And you can’t really do that while you’re still trying to impress someone, can you?’
Allie contemplated this. ‘I guess not. But don’t you ever look back and think about how exciting it was when you first got together with Tom? How every date was a big deal?’ Allie was thinking back to all those nights when she’d had to counsel Jess over what to wear, endless fit checks, panicked photos back and forth, pre-drinks in bars and the promise to come rescue her if it went wrong. Which it hadn’t. And the ring on Jess’s left hand was proof of that.
‘Oh of course,’ agreed Jess, ‘it’s definitely fun.’ This gave Allie a bit of the confidence she’d had knocked out of her theory back. ‘But then it’s nice to look back on those moments and see how far we’ve come. And how much more I love him now.’
‘You do?’
There was a silence. ‘Allie, was that meant to sound like a question?’ Jess didn’t sound impressed.
‘No, no. I meant you do . It was a statement. I mean of course you love him more now, right?’ Allie hoped she had done enough digging. ‘But I just, I guess I’m wondering how do you hang on to that excitement?’
‘Well, you don’t. But you get the excitement in different ways. Sorry, why are we discussing this in the first place?’
‘Oh, right. Yes, well, I think I’ve worked out where I’ve been going wrong all these years.’
‘By dating Dominic?’
‘Thanks, Jess.’
‘Sorry.’
‘So, every relationship I’ve ever had has started off with the butterflies, right? And then they disappear, and at that stage I either move on or don’t.’
‘And we’re back to Dominic, aren’t we?’
‘Can you please stop interrupting me and bringing up Dominic?’ Allie pleaded. ‘But yes, agreed, Dominic was a low point. Instead of moving on, I stayed, and it ended with me not being able to write, right?!’ Allie said.
‘Right!’ Jess agreed enthusiastically.
‘So, what I need to do, in order to keep writing, is keep those butterflies going with Will!’
‘Yay!’ Jess sounded confused more than excited. ‘And how do we do that?’
‘By keeping him at arm’s length, not getting too attached. No getting comfy and familiar!’
There was another long pause. Allie’s triumphant feelings at having cracked the formula for having her cake and eating it – i.e. smashing hot guy AND fulfilling publishing contractual requirements – were beginning to feel a little shaky.
‘Al?’ Jess said dubiously. ‘I’m not sure that’s going to work.’
‘Why not?’ Allie was on the defensive now. She liked those triumphant feelings and she wasn’t going to give them up without a fight.
‘Because you like him, right? So you’re going to get closer. It’s just the way love works.’
Allie spluttered, ‘Love? Jess, c’mon. I’m after lust here.’
‘Yeah, I know you are. But that’s my point. Lust only lasts so long. So either you get closer and it turns into something else, or the lust fades and gets replaced by nothing and that’s when you call it quits.’
‘ Exactly! I just need to keep him in the lust zone while I get this book written. And then?—’
‘Then what? Allie, I don’t see this ending well for you. I don’t think you can hope you’ll find someone to lust after every time you need to write a book.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because…’ Jess sighed. ‘What happened to happy-ever-after? Maybe that ’ s what you should be looking for.’
‘I don’t believe in happy-ever-afters anymore,’ Allie said mulishly.
‘OK, Allie, whatever. But, you want my opinion? You should start believing again. Maybe that ’ s why you can’t write? Maybe Will is the one? Maybe you should give him a chance and see what happens rather than holding him at arm’s length? Maybe those butterflies you’re chasing will one day transform into something lovely and permanent.’
Allie thought about Jess’s advice. She thought about the kid she had been with her head in those romance novels, who would rather have died than admit during her angry teenage phase that what she really wanted, more than anything else in the world, was to find her happy-ever-after and run off with him into the sunset and catch those butterflies together. And she wondered when it was that she had lost that dream, when she had become so cynical. She cradled her phone between her neck and her ear as she scrabbled in the bottom of her wardrobe for her trainers.
‘Al?’ Jess asked. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Looking for some shoes.’
‘Right. Are you OK?’ Jess sounded concerned.
‘Yeah, just, you know, lots to think about.’
‘OK, I’m sorry if I upset you. I just hate to think about you not grabbing this opportunity and not making the most of things with Will. I know this sounds sappy, but you light up when you talk about him. I can see it in your face and hear it in your voice. Don’t miss out just because you think it will help your writing.’
Allie said nothing, putting the phone down on the floor as she pulled on the trainers she had found. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she finally said as she stood and went to grab her keys.
‘Where are you off to?’ Jess asked.
‘Just out. Walking. Clear my head, you know?’
‘Erm, OK sure.’ Jess did not sound sure, in fact she sounded more convinced that Allie’s impending ramble was a sign that she was completely losing it. ‘Look, call me anytime, OK? And just don’t do anything rash.’
‘I promise I won’t,’ Allie said, ending the call.
As Allie headed out her front door she felt justifiably sure that she hadn’t made a promise to Jess that she couldn’t keep, as one person’s definition of rash was another person’s sensible course of action. But that didn’t stop her from ruminating all the way down the road, past the Tube station, past Earl’s Court and right through Brompton Cemetery. She realised about five minutes in that she had forgotten her earbuds but she knew if she went back for them then she would find an excuse to take her trainers off, sit back down on the sofa and stew over her situation at home. So she kept going and she thought about what Jess had said, and she played out a scenario where she threw herself full into a romance with Will, where instead of tantalising text messages, they discussed mini breaks and potentially moving in and before she could stop herself they were lying side by side in bed with their reading glasses on and failing to give each other a goodnight kiss. She really couldn’t bear it.
So she did a U-turn and headed back out of the cemetery, past the playground, which seemed more attractive to the emo youth rather than the intended target market of pre-schoolers, past the bus stop, out onto the main road and straight into the Starbucks there. She stood in line assessing just how much caffeine her body could take right now before ordering a double shot flat white and sticking two fingers up at those who would tell her she had already had more than enough.
She was nose-deep scrolling on her phone waiting for her coffee when she took a step to her left to avoid a pushchair and stepped straight into…
‘Will!’ she exclaimed. She shoved her phone into her pocket and hastily smoothed down her hair, which had gone more than a little wild during her walk. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, I just like to hang out in Starbucks.’ His face split into a grin as he saw the look of confusion that washed over Allie’s face. ‘Same as you? Getting coffee?’ he clarified.
‘Very funny,’ she rolled her eyes, ‘I meant why here, why this Starbucks?’
‘I had a meeting nearby.’
Allie fought a brief internal battle as she recalled her earlier decision. She was fascinated by anything and everything to do with Will, but was showing too much interest in his life getting too close? If she asked too many questions, would she be filing a joint tax return before she knew it? Unable to completely contain her curiosity, she squeaked out a ‘How did it go?’
He shrugged. ‘It was fine. I’m keen to work with this company, but the ball is in their court now. I just wait to hear.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Allie pulled a sympathetic face. ‘That must be tough.’
Will shrugged again. ‘Not really. I’m quite relaxed about it. I think our values are aligned, but if they don’t think so then that says a lot and probably best if it doesn’t work out.’
Allie considered his relaxed attitude towards work and tried to be impressed that he could keep things so cool, but really she didn’t think she could get on board with such a laissez faire attitude towards earning money and it made her all the more determined not to destroy the only employment she could envisage herself ever having. And then she realised that Will’s response had been very offhand. He hadn’t sounded like he wanted to tell her more about his meeting and in fact, come to think of it, he’d told her very little about his life overall.
She glanced sideways at him, assessing the situation. Could he possibly be doing exactly what she was trying to do? Keeping things cool and casual? Keeping her at arm’s length? She remembered his comment in Richmond Park, that he wasn’t seeing anyone else, wasn’t planning to. But that didn’t necessarily mean that he was expecting anything serious with Allie, did it? Maybe he was just a serial no-strings monogamist who had a hard time keeping tabs on one relationship let alone many, so preferred to keep things streamlined in that department.
‘Is that yours?’ Will interrupted her confusing thoughts and pointed towards a cup which had just been placed on the to-go shelf and was emblazoned in sharpie with ALLEY. Allie looked at Will who grinned at her. ‘I like the way you spell it,’ he said and gave her a wink which made her stomach flutter. ‘Do you have time to join me? Were you heading somewhere?’
‘No. I mean yes,’ Allie stuttered. Will had that effect on her ability to string normal sentences together. She took a breath and tried to ignore the amused look on his face. ‘No, I’m not heading anywhere, I was just out for a walk. And yes, I do have time to join you.’
‘Good.’ Will picked up both their drinks and ushered Allie to a sofa in the corner of the cafe. It was one of those huge old brown leather sofas which had seen better days and presumably this was why it had been relegated to the corner of a Starbucks. She sank down next to Will and felt herself crush up against him, the lack of stuffing in the sofa further confirming the fact it was past best.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ She attempted to sit upright, which only resulted in her floundering all the more and sinking ever deeper into the sofa.
‘Don’t apologise, I like you throwing yourself at me.’
‘I wasn’t throwing myself…’ Allie spluttered. She apologised again as she disentangled her limbs and inched closer to the front of the sofa, trying to plant her feet on solid ground again. Will had his hand on her lower back and she desperately tried to ignore the tingly sensation this was giving her. She took a deep breath; keep this flirty and fun , she reminded herself. Keep things casual. Don ’ t. Get. Comfortable. She looked back at Will who had obviously picked up on the signal and moved his hand.
‘So, how’s the writing going?’ he asked.
‘Actually pretty good.’ Allie stared into Will’s eyes and mentally ran through how she would describe them in detail later. She ran her eyes over his thick, dark hair, which she had already described the feeling of running her hands through. She hadn’t quite captured the way his skin dimpled on his right cheek when he smiled… God, he was hot. She cleared her throat and tried to clear her mind of all the impure thoughts that were now racing around it. ‘I shouldn’t tempt fate, but maybe I’m through my writer’s block?’ Of course, he didn’t need to know that he might well be the reason for that.
‘Allie, that’s great!’ Will’s voice was soft and warm, and most importantly genuine. ‘Do you ever let anyone read it while you’re still writing?’
‘Sometimes.’ Allie drank some coffee. ‘Sometimes I share stuff with Verity.’ She paused, her voice catching in her throat. ‘But obviously I can’t do that at the moment.’
‘I’m sorry, that must be hard.’ Allie turned to look at Will. His grey eyes were soft with concern; she felt desire pool, low down in her stomach, and bit back the urge to kiss him. ‘You know,’ he said hesitantly, ‘I’d be happy to read something if you wanted me to? I mean, I’m not an expert but I do like reading. And my dad was a writer. So if it would help you…’
‘No!’ exclaimed Allie. She thought back to the words written on her computer, the story that was starting to take shape. How some of it was inspired by her feelings and desire for Will. If Will read it and recognised it for what it was… Her face went red at the thought.
Will, reading her flush for something else, leapt in with an apology. ‘Sorry, stupid idea. I didn’t mean to presume.’
‘No, it’s not that, it’s just…’ Allie struggled to think how she could possibly explain any of this to Will without him feeling in some way that she was using him. ‘I just don’t feel confident sharing anything with anybody at the moment.’ She gave him a weak smile.
‘Understood.’ Will smiled back but there was an awkwardness hanging in the air between them now.
‘I didn’t know your dad was a writer?’
Will seemed to tense at the question and once again Allie wondered whether he really didn’t want her getting close.
‘Used to be,’ Will said firmly. ‘Hasn’t written anything for ages. And definitely not in your genre so I’m not sure why I mentioned it.’ He flashed her a tight smile.
Allie wanted to ask all the questions. But she got the sense his dad’s career, or lack of, was an uncomfortable and off-limits topic. She sipped her coffee, frantically trying to think of something light and breezy to say. ‘So,’ she eventually began, ‘what else do you like to do in your spare time, other than reading?’ She cringed as she spoke, this was nothing like the easy carefree flirtatious banter she had been aiming for, more like uncomfortable filler, a follow-up interview question.
‘I love cooking, obviously, but I don’t think that counts as a hobby.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, because of my job?’ Will looked at Allie as if she had not only missed the point but was totally unaware that a point was there to be noticed. ‘Erm…’ Will frowned. ‘I like films?’ he eventually offered. ‘Actually, there’s a retrospective on Japanese arthouse cinema at the BFI, do you fancy going to see something?’ He sounded hopeful and turned his grey eyes on her with the full force of their allure.
Allie was momentarily floored by the pull of his gaze. She cleared her throat and imperceptibly shook her head to clear her mind. Was going to the cinema on her list of approved activities? Did it scream comfortable boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic? Or would the dimly lit backseats of the BFI be the perfect place for some tantalizingly placed hands, some passionate kisses before the lights came up at the end? She paused, not only considering whether this aligned with her aims but also whether she really could stomach an arthouse retrospective when her grasp on cinematic culture rarely strayed past romantic comedies. She looked up at the ceiling as she made her decision. ‘Sure, I’d love to,’ she said. Low lit, steamy passion would be a good way to pass the time if the retrospective ended up being as unappealing as it sounded.
Will put his hand on her back again and leaned in to whisper, ‘I’ll bring the sweets, and I promise if it’s too boring we’ll make a run for it. You just say the word, I’m in your hands.’ If the allure of sweets was not enough to make Allie shiver with desire, the kiss that Will then placed just below her ear did exactly the trick. And, as if by magic, the chemistry between them was back.