Chapter 13
KIT
I’m up bright and early the next morning and after scoffing the breakfast that’s brought to my apartment, I head over to Chloe’s room and tap gently on the door.
It’s opened almost immediately, as if she was standing right behind it.
‘Hey,’ she says when she sees it’s me. ‘Good morning.’
‘Did you sleep well?’ I ask, giving her a rueful smile. I certainly did.
‘Yeah. Like the dead,’ she says, grinning back.
There’s a strangely awkward pause where we both just gaze at each other.
Is she feeling as spun out about everything we shared last night as I am?
It was a revelation to hear how our break-up had actually gone down for her after being forced to make assumptions about it for the last few years.
It was helpful to hear her side of the story, and I think it might have healed something inside me that’s felt fractured since then.
But hey, no point in digging any deeper into what’s going on here. It’s a weird time all round for both of us and this is just meant to be a fun interlude, not a deep dive into something more serious.
‘So,’ she says, breaking the slightly tense atmosphere, ‘You ready to become a samurai master?’
‘Always,’ I say earnestly.
I’m actually really excited about this activity. It sounds cool as fuck.
‘Then let’s go,’ she says, following me out and pulling the door closed behind her, then leading the way down the corridor towards reception.
‘I’ll call my driver and get him to come and pick us up,’ I say as we near the desk.
‘Actually, I was thinking we’d take the tram in,’ she says, before I can pull my phone out of my pocket.
‘Really? You sure?’ I say, not convinced I want to cram onto a tram with a load of strangers right now. Despite my reservations, I’m enjoying this intimacy we’re sharing at the moment. It’s almost like we’re a real couple.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she says with confidence. ‘We’re here to experience the culture of the city, right? You’re going to miss a tonne of it if you keep getting exclusive transport everywhere,’ she points out, but with no malice. It’s just stated as a fact.
Straightforward as always.
* * *
The tram is busy. So busy I find myself pressed up hard against Chloe.
As I breathe in her familiar scent and feel the heat from her body warming mine, I decide it’s not so bad travelling this way.
She gives a wriggle against me and I wonder if she’s having the same punch of awareness I am.
A sudden wave of happiness hits me as I think about how great it is to be spending this time with her. I feel like we’ve both matured enough now to be able to just be friends with bennies. Though, if I’m being honest, it feels like we could be more than that.
I’m bummed about the timing of bumping into her. It’s taken out any possibility of this turning into anything more right now. And if not now, then when?
Once we’re both back doing what we usually do, day to day, there’s a good chance we won’t have an opportunity to see each other again. Unless we make one.
And she’s not suggested she’d be interested in doing that. In fact, I really should wind my neck in here. She’s made it very clear what she wants from me.
Just sex.
I should think myself lucky, I guess, having the opportunity for something so uncomplicated and fun, but for some reason I’m not feeling it.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I shift around, feeling like I’m in a straightjacket in the press of tourists all heading into the city, until I’m able to slide it out and look at the banner on the screen. I hope it’s Elliot finally getting back to me.
My heart skips when I see it’s a message from Katya, which starts with:
Hey, I hope I haven’t caught you at a tricky time. I need to speak to you urgently. I’m—
And the rest is cut off. I’m going to have to open my messaging app to read the rest.
Which I don’t want to do when I’m standing so close to Chloe.
What the hell does Katya want from me now?
I half want to know and half don’t.
It could be anything completing that sentence. Myriad possibilities tick through my head, each one more extreme than the last.
Pregnant is one that keeps flashing alarmingly through my mind.
But surely not.
We had a pregnancy scare at one point when she was fasting for a job and her low weight affected her cycle and caused her to miss a period, but we’d been careful since then.
At least, I thought we had been. The last thing she’d wanted was to have a baby while she was focused on getting her career off the ground. So surely it can’t be that?
Knowing Katya, it’s more likely she’s bored and just trying to get my attention and it’ll actually be something pretty mundane. Or she’s trying to make the guy she got back together with jealous or something. That’s quite likely too. She loves to play power games.
That’s what I’m going to go with.
I’ll look at it properly later. I don’t want to ruin this trip with Chloe by dealing with it right now.
I take a breath to try and calm my racing heart.
As if sensing my tension, she looks up at me.
‘Everything okay?’ she asks.
‘Err, yeah. It’s nothing,’ I say, feeling my face heat. I don’t want to bullshit her, but I also don’t want to drag her into whatever this is about either.
The last thing I want is for Chloe to think I’m more interested in hearing what Katya has to say than spending time with her.
I don’t want to mess with what we’ve got going right now.
Trouble is, I know if I don’t read the message it’s going to keep playing on my mind and distract me.
But now is definitely not the time to deal with whatever’s going on.
Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I flash Chloe what I hope looks like a reassuring smile.
‘All good,’ I say.
* * *
Chloe
The dojo where we’re due to do our samurai training is situated off one of the main shopping streets, its entrance tucked down some steps between a noodle bar and a souvenir shop.
We tentatively descend the steps, not quite sure what to expect.
Is a samurai warrior going to jump out at us, sword brandished and eyes alight with danger?
But no. We’re actually greeted by a very smiley greeter, who – once we’ve removed our shoes – politely instructs us to take a stool with the other participants, who are lined up in a row along the back wall.
Moments after sitting, we’re fitted with our black keikogi outfits to train in, which are made of very thick, heavy cotton, the weight of which immediately makes me take the whole thing much more seriously.
The ceremony of it all clearly demands respect and focus, and I turn to see Kit also has a sombre expression on his face as he ties the belt around his waist.
When he notices me looking at him though, he gives me a covert wink, which makes my insides fizz.
Turning away before he can see my cheeks heating, I gaze around me, taking in the small shrine above the door and all the certificates and trophies proudly displayed around the walls of the dojo.
‘This is a real dojo you are training in,’ the sensei says, as if noticing my interest.
At least this is what I come to understand he’s saying, once it’s translated by his assistant, who appears to be from somewhere in the north of England, judging by his accent.
This surprising incongruity makes me grin, and I glance at Kit to see he’s smiling back at me.
I love that we’re on the same page with things that amuse us.
The two instructors take us through all the safety protocols and some of the history of the Samurai warriors, which is fascinating.
Kit certainly seems rapt by it all. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sit so still for so long.
I experience another burst of warmth towards him. It feels strange to have been so wary about being around him again when in actual fact, bumping into him has been one of the best things to happen to me in quite some time.
I decide not to examine that thought too closely right now and force myself to focus back on what the instructor is telling us.
We’re then taken through some sword-wielding moves and I’m relieved to find we’re given blunt swords to practise with.
The moves are graceful, a bit like a dance, and once each of us in the group have mastered them, the previously stern and sombre sensei breaks into a wide, eye-glittery smile and giggles, then gives us each a high five.
It’s the most charming thing I’ve experienced in a very long time and makes me reflect again on how easily I fall back on my assumptions about people. Only when I give them a chance to prove me wrong do I discover the true them. I really should work on that.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sensei proclaiming he’s happy with the fluidity of our sequences and he, now serious again, tells us we are about to wield a real – and extremely sharp – samurai sword.
The whole group gasps in appreciation when he brings it out and proudly shows it to us.
It’s a thing of beauty, the suggestion of its potential viciousness an unsettling counterpoint to its elegant craftsmanship.
My palms grow sweaty just looking at it.
A rolled bamboo mat is placed on its end on a pedestal and the sensei goes through the technique of how to slice the sword in a diagonal motion to first cut the top of the mat clean off, then how to cut through the middle of it, reducing it to just a stub.
He expertly demonstrates this in one fluid movement, sending the two severed pieces of the mat to the floor in what feels like one second flat.
I swallow hard, intimidated by the task ahead, but determined to do it well. Thankfully, the sensei then instructs us that we should just make one cut at a time as we’re beginners, which is a massive relief.
Kit goes before me and I marvel at how focused he is on getting this right.
He’s always been this way, at least ever since I’ve known him.
I’m sure it’s something to do with him being the youngest sibling and having been ridiculed by his brother and sister – particularly his brother – when anything he did was deemed to be less than exceptional.
I remember lying in bed with him, back in our uni days, early on in our fling, when he’d drunkenly told me about the tricky relationship he had with his family, after I’d asked him about his background. They expected so much from him and he’d never felt like he matched up to their expectations.
It had been one of the only times we’d talked about anything serious. He’d not gone back to the subject again and I got the impression he didn’t usually talk about his family’s dynamics.
I bet they think about him differently now though, now he’s a billionaire.
That has to have gone some way towards pacifying his need to always be better and cooler than the next person.
Though perhaps not all the way.
He still seems to have a need to make up for the praise and respect he clearly feels he missed out on growing up, if his relationship with Katya is anything to go by.
As I watch him cut the bamboo in exactly the right place he was instructed to, and see the flash of relief on his face, my heart turns over.
I have a sudden realisation about how hard it must be for him when his relationships don’t work out. It must amplify that chasm of longing to feel special that echoes inside him.
I’m brought back to the present when Kit turns to give me a smile of such satisfaction a tingle of pleasure makes its way from deep in the base of my spine up to my scalp.
He’s happy – at least, in this moment he is – and it’s wonderful to see it.
After receiving his high five from the sensei, he walks back to his stool and raises his hand to me too. I meet it with my own.
‘Thanks for bringing me here,’ he murmurs, his voice suffused with delight as he looks deep into my eyes.
I open my mouth to reply, to tell him it’s my absolute pleasure – which it really has been – but before I can say anything, the sensei calls for me to come and cut my own bamboo mat.
Determined not to let myself down in front of Kit and the crowd of onlookers, I step up, check my understanding of the moves, then take a breath and guide my limbs to perform them, hoping to goodness I don’t miss my target.
Even though my cuts aren’t as neat as Kit’s, relief trickles through me as I see the bamboo fall to the floor and I receive my own high five from the sensei.
Kit grins at me as I walk back to my stool and take my seat next to him, my legs still a little shaky with nerves.
‘Nice one, Dasher. As elegant as ever,’ he says, his eyes alive with approval.
In that moment I realise I like him.
Really like him.
Stunned by this unnerving insight, I quickly squash the feeling down and give him a tight smile.
‘A new skill to add to our inventory,’ I joke, not able to meet his eyes again in case he sees in them the very thing I don’t want him to see.