Chapter Twenty-Four
Mike didn’t get a good chance to really hear about Sophie’s meeting with the editor until two days later, because work had been busy. He must have been feeling nostalgic, because he’d asked her to meet him at the carousel. They were walking hand in hand along the water, the sun shining, the sky blue, everything looking like one of those no-filter Instagram posts.
Which was a shame, really, because Mike’s good mood was evaporating by the minute. No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. It wasn’t that he was unhappy; he wanted this for Sophie. Mike wanted her to have this success, to hold that book in her hand and to shove it down her crappy ex-husband’s neck. Even though the last part would probably never occur to Sophie, Mike wanted her to have the perfect revenge of living well. She deserved that.
Even if he got left behind in the process.
‘So you’d be here indefinitely?’ Mike asked, keeping his voice level. He didn’t want to give any hint of his turmoil, didn’t want to do anything that would bring down her joy and sense of accomplishment.
‘I guess that’s one way to put it. I’ve started putting together an outline for the proposal for Kenzie. It’s going to take weeks to get enough content to fill out the kind of book she’s talking about. Obviously, I’ll come back to London at some point, but in the meantime, I’ll be happy getting more time with Tom and Marisa.’
He hadn’t missed that I’ll . Mentally, for her it was a done deal – at least her part of it. He forced himself to smile. ‘That sounds great. How are they doing?’
Sophie considered her answer for a minute as they walked, her head turned towards the river. ‘Better, I think. The kind of things they’ve been dealing with . . . it lingers. Grief takes as long as it takes, and I’m happy that they’re not pushing each other to try and get better, faster – whatever that means. I’m not as worried about either of them as I was, so that’s a relief.’
Mike nodded, his chest feeling tight. ‘You’re going to have your plate very full. Is it . . . that is, do you still want to see me? You know, while I’m still here? I don’t want to get in the way of your work.’
She tipped her face up to him, bemused. ‘Of course I do.’ She grinned. ‘I need someone to go with me to all of the stuff that Tom and Marisa won’t go to.’
‘I see how it is,’ Mike murmured. ‘But I will be forever avoiding table five, at least metaphorically.’
‘Speaking of which, what are you doing tomorrow?’
Tomorrow he’d be duct-taping his own mouth shut to keep himself from trying to talk her into coming back to London with him, that’s what. ‘Work, of course. After that, no plans.’
‘How do you feel about roller skating?’
‘Like I’m going to break a hip, why?’
‘There’s a place Manny was telling me about that’s part roller rink, part bowling alley. On Wednesdays one of Dazzle’s friends does tarot readings at a table in the roller rink. I’d like to get my fortune read. I want to see if there’s a dark-haired stranger in my future.’ She batted her eyelashes at him.
Me , he thought. I’m your dark-haired stranger . He was also hoping she’d take a long trip to faraway lands, or whatever the usual tarot reading clichés were. He didn’t care who told her to come back with him, to stay with him, so long as she did it. These thoughts circled in his head, quiet but constant, and he dismissed them all, because ultimately he’d rather punch himself in his own face than step between her and her chance. She deserved that at the very least. He wouldn’t say or do a single thing to make her feel otherwise. ‘I’m definitely up for bowling. Fair warning, prepare to thrash me. I’m basically shit at bowling.’
‘Understood.’
‘And I can’t tell you whether or not I’m going to be able to roller skate at all. It’s been ages since I’ve tried, but I’m up for whatever it is you’d like to do, as always.’
Sophie beamed up at him, her smile wide. She pressed her lips to his chin, his cheeks, his mouth. ‘Thank you, Mike.’
‘For what?’
She bumped him with her hip. ‘For supporting me. I know you’re busy. You can’t be getting much sleep, and yet you come along with me on my adventures anyway.’
‘I happen to like your adventures,’ Mike said. ‘I’m happy to be part of them.’
For at least the little time they had left.
The roller rink had been loud, blasting songs Mike hadn’t heard in at least ten years, every roller rink and bowling alley operating in the same liminal space of timelessness the world over, where the past and future careened past each other. Mike wasn’t sure how they did it, but every bowling alley he’d ever been to had somehow managed to give the feeling of being built sometime around 1982, no matter what time it had actually come to be.
Because of this, his ears were still ringing slightly as he walked into the office for work, and the Spice Girls song ‘Wannabe’ was etched into his brain, never to leave.
Not that they hadn’t managed to have a good time. Sophie had beat him twice on the bowling lanes, and was a slightly better skater than he was, which wasn’t saying a lot. He hadn’t tried to skate since Amaya was thirteen.
And afterwards . . . well, they’d kind of both won there.
Due to the fact that his mind was far away and his hearing not at its normal levels, it took Mike a few seconds to figure out that someone was speaking to him.
‘Mike – got a second?’
He looked up to see Larry Whetherman, the architect on record and his boss, striding towards him. Mike liked Larry – he was mellow, efficient and listened well, something that very few people seemed to actually do. Larry was one of the reasons Mike had taken this position in the first place, and while he was pleased to see him, he hadn’t been expecting to. ‘Hey, Larry.’ He got up and shook the man’s hand. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you’d had to go to Chicago this week?’
Larry waved this away. ‘Change of plans. Speaking of which, that was the reason I tracked you down.’
Mike gestured to a chair next to the drafting table he was using. ‘What’s up?’
Larry pulled up the chair, taking a seat. ‘I’m sure you were frustrated by the delays this week—’
Mike shook his head. ‘I think we’ve both been at this long enough to know that these things happen. It’s fine.’ More than fine, but he wasn’t about to get into that with Larry. They weren’t that close, and it wasn’t any of his business.
‘I know, but you’ve always worked so hard to get things in early, and I know when you got here that you wanted to get back to London as soon as you could. I looked over everything and talked to the key players, and we all agreed that there was no reason you needed to delay your trip back.’
Mike’s brain stuttered to a stop, positive that he’d heard him wrong. ‘Pardon?’
‘You get to go home! Wrap up whatever you need to today and book your flight. Anything else we can do remotely, I’m sure, but worst case scenario we could always fly you out for a quick trip.’ Larry’s face held the wide grin of a man imparting great news. News that he was sure would be met with equal levels of excitement. Larry had no idea that it was the last thing Mike wanted to hear.
His grin started to falter at Mike’s apparent lack of excitement. Shit. Mike couldn’t have that. Larry had probably busted his arse to get this for him and it was his general rule to try and keep his various work contacts happy so that they offered him more work in the future – and work was his priority, wasn’t it? Work had been the thing that had kept him together all these years. He couldn’t cock that up.
‘Sorry,’ Mike said, faking the most sheepish expression he could manage. He was surprised he didn’t baaa at the man. ‘Tired, you know. Took a minute to sink in. That’s wonderful news.’ Mike smiled and it hurt.
Larry didn’t seem to notice. ‘I knew you’d be happy.’ He extended his hand. ‘Good work as always, Mike.’
‘Thanks, Larry. Pleasure working with you.’ He meant it, too. Even if the inside of his chest felt punched in. ‘I’ll just wrap things up here and get out of your hair.’