20. Chapter 20
20
T om pushed open the double doors in the council building and saw the seating area the receptionist had directed him to. Six blue pleather-covered padded chairs surrounded a cheap MDF coffee table with out-of-date, dog-eared copies of the local paper. On the wall were various awards for things no one had heard about, including a three-year-old award for meeting recycling targets, and a faded certificate from seven years ago for Barnsford in Bloom. A portrait of the mayor in full ceremonial regalia and chains took centre place.
Tom sat down and let out a long breath. He had made it with eight minutes to spare.
Exhausted from the stress of the journey, he had wondered at every transfer and connection if it would go according to plan. Would he make the train connection to Milan; would the flight get cancelled; would it leave on time?
Now, here he was. In twice-worn clothes, feeling like he really needed to brush his teeth after ten hours straight of travelling, but he was there. He tucked his linen shirt into his chinos and tried to smooth out the worst of the creases.
Sorting through the papers in his folder, he ran through the presentation a final time in his head. He had rehearsed the pitch on the train, again on the plane. The taxi had stopped by his office. Martin was waiting on the street to pass the presentation folder to him before waving him on his way.
He glanced down the corridor at the line of doors. He could see one of the nearest ones had a slightly wonky sign tacked to it that read, ‘Local Authority Start-Up Grant Meetings’. That was him. That was his door.
He checked his watch. Five minutes.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he looked at his messages. The last one was from Katie, sent at about 09:00 this morning.
Good luck! I hope you make it in time! x
He had replied from the train. Now, he stood and snapped a photo of the town mayor’s framed picture.
Look where I am , he typed. Made it on time! Thank you! x He hit send.
He had snuck out of bed that morning at five-thirty, showered quickly, and slung his toiletries into his bag. His phone vibrated noisily, telling him the Uber was downstairs waiting to take him to the station.
Katie had slept on. Red hair fanned across the white pillows, one tendril curling around her neck.
He had lingered longer than he should, listening to her soft breathing. It hurt something deep inside him to leave her without saying goodbye, but he didn’t want to wake her. And he was in no position to process what’d just happened between them.
The door down the corridor opened, and two young men came out, turning briefly to wave and call, ‘thanks again’ to the people in the room. As they passed Tom, they gave him an awkward smile and looked at each other.
The competition.
A man in a too-large suit and scuffed shoes appeared in the doorway to the room. Looking at Tom and then squinting at his piece of paper, he said, ‘Tom Bellden?’
‘That’s me!’
Tom smiled, stood, and strode towards the door. The man looked with some surprise at his casual and rather rumpled attire, then stood back and ushered him into the room.
Thirty minutes later, Tom was back in the corridor, shaking hands with the baggy-suited man, whose name he now knew was Jim.
Jim pumped his hand up and down enthusiastically. ‘Really good stuff, Tom.’ He beamed at him. ‘Very impressive. Just the sort of venture we’re keen to support. We’ll be in touch very soon.’
He winked awkwardly at Tom, let go of his hand, then backed into the room, closing the door behind him.
There was no one in the little waiting area as Tom passed by. Perhaps he was the last candidate of the day.
He checked his phone. Nothing from Katie. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he felt a twinge of disappointment.
He realised he didn’t even know where she was. She might still be in Pisa, or on a flight home, or on some mad rail and plane trip across Europe, like him.
Wandering back past the main reception, Tom stepped out into the afternoon sunlight and stopped. He was shattered, the stress and madcap travel of the past twenty-four hours suddenly all hitting him at once.
Urging his leaden legs forward, he made it down the steps and onto the lawns, where he sat down heavily on a bench. He dropped his bag on the grass and neatly stacked his grant pitch paperwork next to him. A pigeon with only one leg hopped up and investigated the strap on his bag, then hopped away.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, Tom looked at the messages he had exchanged with Katie. The last one hadn’t been read yet. Maybe she was on a flight.
He sighed and looked out across the gardens. A council worker, a hunched man in his sixties, neatly edged the lawns and pulled weeds, throwing them into a wheelbarrow.
He hadn’t had a moment to think about what had happened between him and Katie, more than a thousand miles away from where he sat. Now, he allowed himself to think back to the night before, about how she had felt in his arms, what it had felt like to kiss her, to lie in bed with her.
He rubbed his hands over his unshaven face and blew out his cheeks.
This was a complication he hadn’t looked for. He might not be hurting over Melissa every day, but it had only been a couple of months. He told himself what had happened with Katie was natural, a rebound.
But what if it wasn’t?
He couldn’t remember feeling like that with another woman. Not Melissa, not the girlfriends that had come before her.
It was the chianti, he told himself. It was the romance of Italy.
But what if it wasn’t?
He watched as the man paused to bat at a fly buzzing around his face. He saw Tom watching and smiled. Tom smiled back, and then the man went back to weed the flower beds.
The thing was, Katie had become a friend as well as an ally in their mutual recovery. He didn’t know what that night had meant—to either of them. But he did know he didn’t want things to be awkward between them. The thought of things going wrong between them and then not seeing her again gnawed at the pit of his stomach.
The late afternoon English sunshine lost heat fast as the day drew on, unlike the baking heat of Pisa.
Tom checked his watch. If he was lucky, Martin might be working late at the office and he could cadge a lift home. He threw his bag onto his shoulder and started the walk to the offices.
Martin had dropped him outside his house with the encouraging words, ‘Get some sleep mate, you look like shit.’ Then he shook his head and cackled joyfully at Tom looking less than his best, and sped off.
Tom had told Martin about how he had got caught up in the flight chaos, but had left out the part about sleeping with Katie. Martin had, however, asked him with narrowed eyes if ‘that was all that had happened,’ when Tom had rather glowingly explained how Katie had found a way for him to get back in time for his pitch. Shrugging, Tom had said, sure, of course, and then asked Martin about the new client Brian had landed him with, which Martin was not happy about and was delighted to talk at length about the poor attitude of the CEO. Tom had nodded while travelling elsewhere in his mind as Martin ranted.
Tom tumbled through his front door shortly after eight. He was tempted to go and lie down on the sofa, but he knew if he did that, he’d still be there come the morning.
Keeping up the momentum, he forced his weary body up the stairs towards the bedroom. He slung his bag onto the bed and kicked off his shoes. Resisting the sweet siren call of his neatly made bed, he padded barefoot into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Wandering back into the bedroom, he shrugged out of his now very wrinkled shirt and started undoing his chinos. As he flung the clothes into the laundry basket, his phone screen flashed.
He grabbed it. It was Katie.
I’m back! It read. Well, back in England. Still no flights from Pisa, so I got a train to Rome and managed to get on a flight to London. On a train back to Barnsford now, I should be home in a couple of hours x
She added a train emoji and a sleepy face.
Tom smiled. His fingers hovered over the keys to reply.
Then his phone buzzed again with an email. He hit open.
Dear Mr Bellden,
We are pleased to inform you that your application for support from the Local Authority New Business Start-up fund has been approved….
Tom let out a whoop and punched the air. This meant an injection of grant funding that would help him accelerate the growth of his new firm. It was happening. He imagined Brian’s face when he handed in his notice and told him where he was going.
It had been worth it, all of it. Not just the evening and weekend work to start building the business, not the labouring over the long and complex grant application, and taking a week to put together the perfect presentation, but the mad skin-of-his-teeth dash across Europe, too.
Tom was suddenly wide awake, all fatigue forgotten. And he wanted to tell someone. No, not someone—one person.
He hesitated. There was still last night. Would she want to talk to him? Their messages so far had given nothing away.
High on success, he hit call. They could ignore what happened last night, gloss over it. Katie had helped him get back; she would want to know that it had all been worth it. The call went straight to answerphone. Deflated, he stared at the dark phone screen, sighed, tossed it on the bed, and headed into the shower.
After a hastily thrown-together dinner of bacon and eggs, Tom headed up to bed. It was only a little after 9pm, but he was exhausted. He drew the curtains against the dusky light, folded back the quilt, and collapsed into the bed.
Setting his alarm for the morning, he rolled over and closed his eyes.
His phone vibrated loudly, rattling on the bedside table. Blinking in the gloom, Tom followed the flashing light and grabbed it.
Katie.
He cleared his throat.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘You’re awake!’ came the joyful reply.
Tom laughed. ‘Yes, just about.’
‘You must be shattered,’ she said, a note of concern in her voice. It was noisy around her; he could hear traffic.
‘I’m okay. How are you? Where are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said cheerfully, sounding a little out of breath. ‘I just got back to Barnsford, and now I’m on my way to get a taxi. Tell me how the pitch went!’ she demanded. ‘Were they understanding?’
Tom didn’t tell her straight away that he had got it. He wanted to keep her on the phone, talk with her a little longer, not cut to the chase.
‘They were great,’ he said truthfully. ‘I was honest, like you suggested. I just said I had come straight from the airport, which they knew was the case from my email, anyway. Turned out one of the panel has a daughter stuck abroad and waiting for a flight out of Barcelona. They said they were impressed that I managed to get myself back under the circumstances—I took all the credit for making that happen.’
Katie burst out laughing down the phone.
‘You’re welcome to it. You’re the one who got up at the crack of dawn and did a trains, planes, and automobiles trip across Europe in less than ten hours!’
Her mention of him getting up at dawn cast his mind back to creeping out, without saying goodbye.
The call went quiet, and he sensed awkwardness down the line.
He started to say, ‘Katie, should we talk about—’
As Katie asked, ‘So, what did they make of the proposal?’
Her completed question overtook his hesitant, half-formed thought, so he replied, ‘Well, they said it was the most credible and well-researched business plan they have seen in years.’
‘Ha ha!’ Katie yelped down the phone. ‘I knew it would be!’
Tom smiled and lay back in the bed, listening to her voice.
‘When do you think you’ll hear?’
‘I got an email this evening,’ he replied. ‘They’ve awarded me the grant.’
He heard her sharp intake of breath. ‘Oh my goodness, Tom! Congratulations, that’s amazing!’
He grinned broadly in the darkness, the feelings of success for being awarded the grant eclipsed by the joy of telling Katie about it.
‘Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you,’ he said. ‘I hope you know that.’
‘Tsk, rubbish. What’s a little travel triage between friends?’
He heard her give directions to a taxi driver, and then a car door slammed.
She had said friends. That’s what they were. Last night was an anomaly.
‘Tom,’ her voice drifted down the phone. ‘Are you there?’
‘Always,’ he murmured, his eyelids heavy.
‘Well done,’ she said sincerely. ‘Let’s celebrate soon.’
His heart jumped at having a reason to see her without having to wait a few weeks until the business awards dinner.
‘Now get some sleep.’
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Get home safe. Night.’
The call clicked off, and he stretched across the bed to place it back on the bedside table. It buzzed just as he put it down. Lifting it up, he saw it was a picture of Katie in the back of a cab, sporting a broad grin and giving him a thumbs-up gesture.
He broke out into a wide smile, and something tugged at his heart. He lay back, looking at that big grin and shining hazel eyes.
Holding his phone with the picture of Katie on it, he fell asleep.