30. Chapter 30
30
K atie rolled over and glared in the vague direction of her alarm. She swung one arm around, patting across the bedside table until her hand bumped into her phone. Silencing the alarm, she fell back into bed, star-fished across the mattress.
It was early. She had got into the good habit of getting up early for a walk, taking time to look after herself and reflect. She had also got into the bad habit of swinging by the local coffee shop for a coffee and a croissant at the end of her walk. But hey ho, she couldn’t get perfect all at once.
Walking was keeping her sane. It was the stable routine she needed in what had been the most topsy-turvy few months of her life. Losing Ryan had, at the time, been a shock. But it had quickly turned out to be a blessing, as time and distance from him allowed her to see how controlling he had become, how increasingly dismissive about what mattered to her, and how he tried to fit her into a narrow idea of how he thought she should be. She had made a lucky escape.
Not having Tom in her life had proved more destabilising than she wanted to admit. For the first time in her life, she had glimpsed what it could be like to have a partner, not a boyfriend. Someone who cared about what mattered to her, who supported her dreams and encouraged her to be herself. A man who made her laugh at herself, respected her talents and skills, and treated her like a lady—except in the bedroom. Someone who wanted her just as she was. It felt cruel to have had a taste of that and then have it snatched away.
Throwing back the covers, she rolled to the edge of the mattress. She knew that getting out in nature and enjoying the beautiful scenery was good for her, but it was the thought of the croissant at the end of the walk that got her out of bed.
A pair of blue and red tiger-striped leggings lay on a chair, and Katie peeled them on, topping them off with a hot pink t-shirt that said ‘I only run for the bus’ in ice blue sequins. She felt sure the local dog walkers were appreciative of her sartorial efforts—a nice change from their browns, greens, and plaids.
Shoving her feet into her trainers and slapping a baseball cap over her hair, Katie yanked open the door and headed out into the morning. It was another rudely sunny day. Had the weather not received the news that she was heartbroken? Where was the torrential rain and the thunder? How could she sit inside and gaze forlornly out with her head pressed against the window when it was so bloody sunny and nice?
It had been three days since Katie had seen Tom after her exhibition opening. She had heard nothing from him. It seemed that was his one attempt to fix things between them. Or perhaps she had gone too far, snapped back at him too hard. He had looked tortured that night, tired and unshaven, and there had been a fraught, urgent energy about him. But he still looked beautiful, the shadows under his eyes just making his grey eyes look more intense, his dark hair more tousled than she had ever seen it.
Katie tramped along the pavement, then took a hard left onto the footpath beside a field.
Her heart felt so heavy it slowed her feet down, and she realised she had nearly come to a stop. She made a strangled noise and forced her feet to keep moving along the narrow footpath. To her left was a hedge row full of haw berries with dark blue sloe berries breaking up the red at intervals. To her right was a field full of short, cropped grasses, the final cut of hay recently harvested.
‘Help me,’ Katie whispered to no one and nothing in particular.
If she had hoped for some sort of sign, she didn’t get one.
The early morning autumn sun cheerfully glared down all along the walk. Katie passed multiple dog walkers and exchanged the brisk, ‘morning’ and sharp smile with all of them, dipping her head to hide behind the peak of her cap so no one could see the misery imprinted on her face.
After about forty-five minutes of rambling between fields and hedgerows, she emerged from another footpath onto the pavement opposite her favourite coffee shop. It wasn’t that local—it was a fifteen-minute walk back to her house—but Katie had come to like the routine of going in there, to the same place every day. The simple pleasure afforded when someone—a stranger nonetheless—knows you well enough to say, with a smile, ‘The usual?’
Katie craved these little acts of kindness and recognition at the moment when everything else about life felt so uncertain and perilous.
Her exhibition continued to go well. She had now sold over three-quarters of her exhibited work and taken on two commissions, and there were still three weeks to go. She had hurriedly printed some business cards and left them on the tables, and she was painfully aware that she needed a website so she could maximise the enthusiasm her work was generating. A local homeware store had approached her to arrange a meeting to discuss stocking her work.
It was all wonderful. It was more than she had imagined possible for herself. Yet none of it made her feel better.
She paid, took her order from the barista and sloped back out of the shop, sipping at her coffee as she went.
Back at home, Katie finished the coffee and picked at the croissant before showering and throwing on a loose sunflower print dress. Black would be more fitting, she thought, to mourn her broken heart, but she didn’t really own anything black.
By late morning, Katie was getting distracted by thoughts of lunch but refused to budge out of her chair until she had finished a first draft of the user manual for a new smart mug that would keep your hot drink at the desired temperature.
She had always enjoyed the peculiarity of her job. The remarkably detailed information she would end up knowing about products she never expected to encounter again. The funny feeling of people out in the world unwrapping new appliances and reading the words she wrote so they could work out how to use them.
The safety section was undergoing a third redraft when the post box clattered on the front door, and she heard something hit the mat. She thought little of it until the box rattled again—rap, rap, rap.
Then silence.
Katie pushed herself away from her desk, went to the top of the stairs, and listened. It was quiet now, but as she leaned over the banister, she could see that what lay on the doormat wasn’t a motley collection of bills, catalogues, and magazines she kept forgetting to cancel the subscription to. It was a single large, red envelope.
Katie hesitated at the top of the stairs. Then, all thoughts of smart mug safety guidance forgotten, she walked slowly and deliberately down to the hallway.
Walking up to the doormat, she bent and retrieved the envelope. It was slender, but felt like it had more than a single sheet in it. Turning it over in her hands, she saw her name handwritten in printed letters on the other side. A wave of anxious excitement washed over her.
Below her name, it said, ‘Please read me.’
Holding the envelope with both hands, Katie moved towards the kitchen. Placing the envelope, face up now with her name in view, on the countertop, she paused. She wanted very much to know what was inside. But she also worried that she wouldn’t like what she found.
She didn’t know Tom’s writing well enough to be sure it was from him. But who else would be hand-delivering red envelopes to her house?
Oh god, what if it was her mother dropping round something to try to make her feel better? Some sappy card telling her to buck up, things will get better. Time is a healer.
Katie’s heart sank, and she reached for the envelope.
Better get it over with, whatever ‘it’ would turn out to be.
Sliding a nail under the flap on the envelope, she tore it open. Palms starting to sweat, she reached her fingers into the envelope, grasped the sheets, and pulled them out.
Katie turned the document the right way up and looked at what was printed on the front page.
She read it several times, increasingly slowly, to be sure she was taking it in correctly.
The title read, Katie and Tom: A Beginners User Manual.
A noise erupted out of Katie’s mouth, something between a cry and a gasp. Hands trembling, she turned the first page.
Thank you for choosing a Katie and Tom. This model 2.0 is based on The Pact, and there are some important things to know before you start trying to use your Katie and Tom.
Katie started laughing as tears welled up in her eyes.
He’d made her a user manual.
The Katie part of your new item functions well. However, extra care must be taken with the Tom aspect of your new unit, as this has indicated some faults in early testing. The Tom can be slow to start, slow to respond to instructions, and may occasionally break down entirely. This is temporary, and we are actively working on model upgrades to prevent it from happening again. Lifetime upgrades are free for all users.
Katie snorted and swiped at her nose, tears running freely now.
It is possible to enjoy your Katie and Tom separately. Each component is capable of operating without the other. However, we find the best results are achieved all round when the Katie and Tom are used together, as one unit. If the Tom breaks down at any point—as it likely will—you are encouraged to hit it hard on the bottom to restore factory settings.
Katie burst out laughing.
She turned the page.
Care of your Katie and Tom.
Cleaning:
The Katie and Tom is best cleaned by taking both parts of your unit and placing them in a hot shower together for at least an hour. This should ideally be done daily, but we suggest three times a week as a minimum.
Katie felt her skin prickle at the thought.
Excellent results are also achieved with regular dunkings in the Mediterranean or Pacific.
Testing shows that the Tom benefits from occasional foot rubs while the Katie should be regularly subjected to whole body massages,
Heat rushed to Katie’s cheeks. She turned the page.
Daily maintenance:
The Katie unit requires significant amounts of daily coffee and G&T, or it might short circuit.
Supporting your Katie to get creative and messy is essential to get the most from your Katie.
The Tom does well when supported to geek-out on spreadsheets and client finance.
Laughing at bad jokes the Tom makes (which can be often) is essential for optimal operation.
‘The units should be charged together overnight, every night, in a double or king-sized bed.
Katie was chortling and sniffing as she read. Big fat tears fell onto the paper, and she howled and tried to wipe them away with her sleeve. She didn’t want the ink to splodge or run.
Safety notes:
It is inadvisable for the Katie and Tom to be stored as separate units for any duration. Testing has shown that the Tom in particular cannot function effectively for prolonged periods away from the Katie part of the unit.
The Katie has shown past issues with the security of the front coverings, these sometimes falling off in public. Care should be taken to ensure all fixings are secure before venturing out with your Katie.
Katie snorted, her head tipping back, her face aching from laughter and crying.
Trouble-shooting:
The Tom is prone to jumping to rash conclusions and then being too scared and stubborn to realise that a serious malfunction has occurred. An upgrade to address this flaw is being implemented right now.
She reached for some kitchen roll, patted at the tear spots puckering the paper, and then blew her nose.
She turned the page to find a handwritten note.
Dearest Katie, you’re right.
I was callous and unthinking. I am devastated to think that I have caused you any hurt. I was so consumed by my own hurt and anxieties that I didn’t stop to reflect fully on what you might be feeling.
Since I came to my senses, I have hardly slept. All I can think about is whether my behaviour has ruined my chances of happiness with the woman I love.
Katie’s hands, already shaking, lost their grip on the paper, and it fell to the counter.
She pressed her hand to her chest, trying to even out her breathing. Swiping a hand across her eyes to try to clear her vision of tears, she clumsily reached for the paper and read the words again.
‘The woman I love.’
Katie, if you’ll give me a chance I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy, every single day.
And I know the answer to the question now. I know there is a way we can repair everything, because I’ll do whatever it takes.
I know I told you once I rarely gave second chances. I can see now how inflexible and stubborn that is.
Is there any way you could give me a second chance?
Yours, always, Tom
Xxx
Tears were flowing freely now. Numbly, Katie flicked through the pages of the Katie and Tom user manual, her fingers tripping over themselves as she fumbled.
The manual was only the second geekiest thing she’d ever been given, hot on the heels of the business plan Tom had made her. She thought of Tom labouring over the copy for his website, struggling to string sentences together despite hours at the computer. Looking at the manual her heart swelled as she pictured him trying to find the words that could put things back together.
She read the handwritten note again.
‘I’ll do whatever it takes,’ was underlined three times.
All thoughts of safety guidance for smart mugs forgotten, Katie carefully shuffled the papers back together and slid them back into the red envelope. Grabbing her bag and keys, she catapulted herself towards the door. She had to see Tom now.
Swinging open the front door, she stopped short. Tom was there, sitting on her doorstep.
At the sound of the door opening, he stood and turned to face her.
Katie, not for the first time in recent weeks, found herself speechless. She had thought she’d have the drive into town to work out what to say. Now, she simply managed, ‘Tom.’
He looked more together than when she had seen him on Saturday night, but he still sported shadows under his eyes, the hint of five o’clock shadow on his jaw. He was in suit trousers and shirt, his tie loosened, the top button undone. His jacket was crumpled next to him on the step. Katie’s heart was beating so hard her whole body was vibrating with the rhythm.
‘You got the manual and the, ugh, letter then,’ Tom said, his voice low and rough as he nodded at the envelope in Katie’s hand. The expression on his face was some horrible cocktail of anguish and hope, and it tore at something inside her.
‘I did,’ Katie said in a thick voice, still drinking in the unexpected sight of him standing on her doorstep. Waiting for her to read his letter.
There was too much to say, and the overwhelm put her on mute. She just stood there.
Tom looked agonised. He took a step towards her, stopping inches from her, those dark charcoal eyes blazing down into hers.
‘Is it not enough? Is it not enough to start to make things right?’ His voice was raspy, hoarse. ‘Katie,’ he clasped his hands together, ‘I am begging you to give us another chance. I was—’
The red envelope fluttered to the floor as Katie stepped over the threshold, onto the step, and pressed her lips to his.
She slid her arms up around Tom’s neck, pressing herself into him. Tom seemed to hesitate for a split second, then his mouth was claiming hers. His arms wrapped tightly around Katie’s waist, pulling her to him. He kissed her like a starving man, his hunger for her evident, and Katie gave as good as she got. Her lips parted under pressure from his, and he groaned into her mouth as their tongues met. One of his hands was in her hair now, holding her to him, deepening the kiss. The other had dropped to the curve of her hip. Katie bowed back, pressing herself into him, one hand clutching his hair, the other pulling him to her by the shirt collar.
Tom broke away for a moment, resting his forehead against hers.
‘Can we go inside,’ he said gruffly, glancing at the street. ‘Before we get arrested for indecency.’
Katie felt her blood surge and heat pool between her legs.
Nodding her agreement, Tom picked her up under her arms and lifted her over the threshold, pressing her back against the wall in the hallway. Katie kicked the door shut behind them.
Tom cupped her face in his hands, his lips just inches from hers. His eyes ran over her face, drinking her in as if he was trying to see all of her, absorb her to make up for the time apart.
His lips brushed hers. ‘Katie, I missed you so much. I’ve hardly slept. I’m such an idiot.’ His hands slipped up from her face and into her hair. ‘Forgive me, please?’
Katie, her breath caught in her throat, managed to say, ‘I forgive you,’ before his mouth was on hers again, possessive and claiming. The weight of his body pushed her back into the wall and she revelled in the feel of him against her.
After a moment, Tom pulled back, his breathing ragged. He trailed kisses down her cheek, along her jaw. His hands were still in her hair, Katie’s arms were around his shoulders, her fingers curling into the nape of his neck.
‘Tom,’ Katie whispered. He lifted his head so his eyes met hers and gave a tiny nod. His thumbs were making tiny circles over her cheeks.
‘What you wrote in the letter,’ she said, her heart racing, her eyes steady on his. ‘I love you too.’
Tom shuddered and his chest heaved, then he tipped her head back, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. He held her so tightly she almost couldn’t get her breath. There wasn’t a sliver of space between them the length of their bodies, but still Katie’s arms pulled Tom down to her, wanting him closer still.
Tom broke off the kiss just long enough to hook a hand under each knee and lift her up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him as she felt his hardness press against her.
‘This wasn’t in the user manual,’ she murmured.
‘This is for advanced users only,’ Tom growled back. ‘Early tests are ongoing to see exactly what can be achieved.’
‘Then we’d better push the boundaries to see exactly what this model can do,’ Katie said with a groan.