Chapter 35
When I wake up, I know Oliver is in the bathroom as I can hear the shower running.
The sound of him singing in the shower drifts through the wall, causing my heart to have an early morning flutter. I go to the kitchen to make myself a coffee. I have my back to the doorway when I hear his voice. ‘Good morning, Nelly.’
It makes me jolt and spill the coffee I’ve just poured. When I turn round, he’s in his dressing gown. His hair is dripping wet, and he’s beaming at me.
‘Do you fancy going for a picnic tonight?’ he asks.
I blink. ‘A picnic?’
He shrugs. ‘It’s going to be nice weather tonight. What do you think?’
My anxiety climbs into the driving seat. ‘I’m not sure what I’m doing.’
He grins. ‘Nelly, you’ve not been out since I moved in. Come on. I need to get you out.’
A picnic. That doesn’t sound too bad. I nibble on my thumb, a habit that soothes me.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not a date,’ he says. ‘We’re two flatmates having a picnic.’
I am glad he’s clarified that.
He flicks his wet hair out of his face, and in doing so, he lets his robe slip. It reveals his tanned, muscular shoulder, and my heart goes berserk.
‘What about Alfie?’
‘He’s at his gran’s tonight, so I’m not needed. How about it?’
‘Yes, okay.’
I should never have agreed to this. My body is a traitor. I see one flash of some tanned and well-defined shoulder, and I agree to all sorts.
Oliver’s suggestion is making my heart go wild.
I am blaming that slip of a robe for everything.
On the way to work, I pop in my earbuds and search for a suitable song to soothe my flustered state.
To my frustration, I can’t find any songs written about two flatmates, who share a bed because of a plumbing leak, and decide to have a completely innocent picnic together.
* * *
My day at the bookshop is quiet. Miranda has decided to take the day off. She rang me as I walked to work. I was expecting her to sound like she’d hit rock bottom, but she sounded almost gleeful. ‘I have some things I need to sort out,’ she gushed. ‘It’s exciting. Have a great day, Nelly.’
The ending of a fifteen-year relationship and heartbreak is not meant to sound like this. My curse has always shown me suffering and upset. Maybe the extent of Frank’s betrayal has not hit her fully yet.
I’ve tried to touch as many people as possible, and my list has reached over three pages. Oliver is still the only person my curse doesn’t work on.
Eva pops in at lunchtime, and I talk to her about the picnic.
‘What are you thinking of wearing?’ she asks, leaning over the counter and fiddling with a glittery pen.
‘He said we don’t have to dress smart.’
She scrunches up her face. ‘Please don’t tell me you’re wearing grey jeans and a black T-shirt. You need to do something with your hair, too. I’m thinking loose curls.’ She smiles and surveys my clothes. ‘A pretty dress would be ideal for a picnic. Maybe topped off with some white sandals.’
‘It’s just a picnic, Eva.’
She raises her eyebrows and grins. ‘Is it just a picnic, Nelly?’
My heart performs a series of flips, which I quickly suppress. Once again, she has not warned me about him. ‘You’ve changed your tune. When you came to my flat you kept telling me to stay away from him.’
After a flick of her blonde hair, she smiles. ‘I did warn you but then I thought about this situation. It’s time you started experiencing what the rest of us endure. We don’t get free dating spoilers. We just put our faith in someone and cling to a scrap of hope that they’re not an arsehole.’
I let out a groan.
She smiles. ‘Whatever happens between you and Oliver will be an experience and I think you need it. For too long, you’ve feared getting your heart broken. You need to face your fears.’
‘I’m not getting into anything with Oliver,’ I say, while secretly praying I do get into something with him while he’s wearing that fitted white shirt with the undone buttons.
‘Enjoy your picnic. I’ll be on WhatsApp waiting for an update,’ she says with a wink.
Late in the afternoon, I’m picking up the box of glittery pens that a small child knocked onto the floor when the man who bought the book on dogs approaches the desk.
I look up to see him carrying a small puppy.
I recall that his ex-wife had taken his much-loved Labrador to Scotland and he bought the book as a comforter.
He recognises me and smiles. ‘I thought I would come and introduce you. I saw this puppy in the rehoming centre, and I couldn’t resist.’
The puppy is a small golden Labrador, and it licks my hand.
‘I can’t replace Sandy,’ he says, ‘but this little one is going to help fill in the gaps.’
‘Do they have a name?’
He beams. ‘She’s called Hope.’
‘That’s lovely.’
‘I’ve also made a new friend with one of the ladies at the rehoming centre.’
As he turns to leave, I make sure my hand brushes his bare arm. I see him as an elderly man sitting by a bed with an elderly lady in it. He’s holding her hand and saying, ‘I’m so glad Hope brought us together all those years ago.’
The world becomes muffled and I think about how he’s giving love a chance and it will pay off – he and his new love interest will grow old together. I smile at him as he places a kiss on his puppy’s head.
* * *
Oliver and I are standing in my hallway.
He’s wearing a fitted navy shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong, tanned forearms. His hair is messy and tousled.
I have an urge to run my fingers through it.
In his hand is a wicker picnic basket he borrowed from Jamie, and he claims there are a lot of nice things to eat inside.
‘You look great, Nelly,’ he says as his eyes wander over my face, my hair – which is not in its usual messy bun but is spread over my shoulders with the ends containing some soft curls – and my pink and white gingham dress.
Earlier, as I climbed the stairs to the flat, I reassured myself that my old grey jeans and black T-shirt would suffice.
I can’t read too much into this. We are simply two adults eating outdoors. It won’t lead to anything. Oliver and I will be bonding over sandwiches.
Oliver was ready when I got in, and the sight of him in the hallway robbed me of breath. I don’t think handsome is good enough for how he looks. There was a stirring in my lower belly, and a warm sensation spread up my legs.
Seconds later, I raced to my wardrobe and opened the section I had locked away while Eva was here.
Eva used to comment on my attire. She encouraged me to overhaul my wardrobe and try different hairstyles.
She refused to come with me to a cocktail bar if I was going to be dressed in my usual comfort-zone outfit.
As a result, I refreshed my wardrobe. When we fell out, I put all the new clothes she had made me buy into a separate part of my wardrobe and vowed never to wear them again.
After selecting my gingham dress, I curled my hair and even applied some make-up.
When I stepped out of my bedroom, he was standing in the hallway.
His eyes widened dramatically and he took a step back.
Clearly not expecting such a transformation.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask.
His dark eyes have been embedded with a glint of excitement. ‘It’s a secret.’
I let out a silent groan and pray we’re not going to a busy park.
As we step out of the flat, he takes a key from his pocket and heads towards the private communal garden. ‘Gary gave me a key.’ I take a deep breath. The garden is not somewhere I usually go, as I have always preferred to lock myself away.
‘Nelly, come on,’ encourages Oliver. ‘Do something new.’
I think back to how I swam in the sea when I was at Aunt Polly’s. That was new for me. It turned out better than I expected. Maybe I should give the garden a chance?
As we enter, I let my eyes sweep over the patch of grass, the scattering of trees and the pretty shrubs. My breath catches in my throat. It’s idyllic. Why have I never come in here?
Oliver smiles and strides ahead carrying his picnic basket.
I watch as he lays out a beautiful red and white blanket which is more than big enough for both of us.
He then takes out an array of fabulous things to eat: little pork pies, cheeses, cold meats, pickles, salad and a bag of crisps.
‘Tuck in.’ He beams, handing me a paper plate and a napkin.
‘This is wonderful,’ I say, before biting into a pork pie.
‘I have been meaning to ask you, have you seen Juliet at all?’
I smile. ‘She came in the other day, and I gave her Miguel’s book.’
‘Wow, that’s great. I bet she was pleased. Did you tell her about my request?’
I nod. ‘She’s going to keep you updated. Apparently, she’s been learning Spanish and has now booked a trip out to Spain.’
‘Juliet is giving love a chance,’ says Oliver, holding my gaze. ‘This is good therapy for you and me.’
‘How was your day?’
‘I thought a lot about the footman and the scullery maid.’ His hair falls softly across his forehead, and his eyes are sparkling with mischief. He looks so handsome sitting in the dappled sunlight.
‘Do they meet at midnight?’
‘Let’s finish the picnic, and I will fill you in.’ His voice is warm and low, reminding me of our lovely late-night chats over the pillow wall. I am captivated by his deep brown eyes and his boyish smile.
We make a serious dent into his picnic food and then clear everything away. Our hands brush several times, and my curse is still silent.
Once the blanket is clear, he lies on his side, propping himself up on an elbow. I sit on the far edge of the blanket, hugging my knees but secretly longing to lie down beside him.
‘Our maid, Mary, gets caught attempting to sneak out by the lady of the house,’ Oliver says, holding my gaze. ‘She’s sent to help clean up. The leak causes chaos. Everyone in the house goes into a frenzy.’
‘Oh no. Does that mean…’
Oliver sits up and nods. ‘Our footman, John, is left alone in the garden. He thinks she doesn’t love him.’ He hangs his head, and I feel an ache in my chest.
‘Has he been hurt before?’ I make circles with my finger on the picnic blanket.
His finger starts to follow mine. ‘Yes, he has, but he can’t stop thinking about the maid, her beautiful smile, her sapphire-blue eyes and the way she makes him laugh on the stairs.
’ He pauses. ‘Our footman can also feel the heaviness of lonely nights in her heart while the streets below echo with laughter.’
I don’t know how this happened, but we have both inched towards each other. This story he’s made up about the lonely footman and maid has made me throw all common sense over the park’s railings behind us.
‘I want to get to know you, Nelly.’
‘Me?’ My heart starts to thud. There’s not much to tell apart from a lot of books, a leaky ceiling, a cat who should be renamed Houdini… oh, and a curse.
He smiles. ‘Don’t look so scared. This is me. Let’s start with something easy. When was your last holiday?’
‘Umm… I can’t remember the last time I went away.’ I would love to go on holiday and explore distant places, but the thought of enduring a long-haul flight and witnessing a stream of sad, tragic scenes from fellow passengers has put me off.
‘Okay. What’s the last music concert you went to?’
I squirm and fidget on the blanket. ‘I’ve never been to a music concert.’
He stares at me. ‘Really?’
I nod. My face is reddening, and it feels hot. My curse has kept me away from the pain and suffering that love can bring; however, the price it demands is that I relinquish aspects of life like music concerts, theatres and holidays.
‘Ah,’ he says, ‘I bet you’re an avid theatre goer.’
This is too much. ‘I’m not feeling too well.’
‘Oh, I am sorry,’ he says, looking crestfallen. ‘You have gone very pale.’
‘The picnic was lovely,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘I need to go back inside.’
He nods and casts me a worrying look as I act like I’m a secret vampire who’s been out in the sun too long and needs to return to darkness.