Once Upon a Leap Year

Chapter 1

Don’t forget it’s leap day, so, ladies, get those knees limbered up, as today, and today only, is your chance to—

‘Ugh,’ I muttered, switching off the radio. Seriously, can’t people talk about anything else on the twenty-ninth of February? Do radio and TV presenters not know that in the twenty-first century a woman can propose to a man on ANY day of the year?

I, more than most people, get how special it is.

After all, it’s my birthday, and I only get to celebrate it on the actual day once every four years.

But still, I wish they’d think of better things to talk about than outdated traditions.

What about seizing the day and making the most of having a whole extra twenty-four hours in the calendar? Which is exactly how I see it.

‘I can’t believe how early it is,’ groaned Caz, appearing from what should have been the lounge if our greedy landlord hadn’t made it into an extra bedroom. ‘Happy birthday, Luce.’

‘You didn’t need to get up this early. Plus, I’m pretty sure that you wished me that every time we ordered shots after midnight last night.’

She groaned again, and held on to the back of a chair to steady herself. ‘Is that why my head feels like there’s a samba band drumming inside it?’

I laughed. ‘Quite possibly.’

Despite the chilliness of the room, she was wearing a skimpy pyjama set with a towelling dressing gown draped over the top. She tied her hair into a messy knot, exposing even more of her midriff.

‘You’ll get sick, it’s freezing in here.’

She rolled her eyes at me, but she tightened up the dressing gown anyway. ‘Better?’

I reached over to the clothes horse in the corner and pulled off a pair of my thick slouch socks, which were just about dry, and chucked them at her.

‘Thanks, Mum,’ she said, catching them.

‘The landlord’s doing his best to kill us off in the cold; we don’t want to give him a helping hand.’

She hopped on one leg putting the socks on, and from the look of delight that spread over her face, I knew that was the last I’d see of them.

‘I don’t get how you’re up and all chipper,’ she said, mid-hop into the second sock. ‘You’re worse than Amy.’

‘Should my ears be burning?’

Caught off balance, Caz almost fell over.

She hadn’t seen Amy glide into the kitchen.

Despite having the same – few – hours of sleep as Caz and me, Amy looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed; all freshly showered and made up.

I’d showered but it had done little to wake me up and I’d shoved my wet hair into a towel on top of my head where it was no doubt a matted, frizzy mess now.

‘Speak of the devil. Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Who looks that awake or that good on a Sunday morning?’ said Caz. She’d initially tried to shake her head in disbelief, but she’d stopped mid-shake and clutched at her temples.

Amy shrugged her shoulders. ‘Being a morning person is both a blessing and a curse. But today, it’s more blessing as it means I’m up to play Fairy Godmother for Lucy here who doesn’t look like she’s in a fit state for her big romantic date.’

‘It’s not a big romantic date. For starters, it’s Will,’ I said, flicking on the kettle. If I was going to have to deal with Amy being this perky, I needed more caffeine. ‘Will, who you’re always trying to point out does not have a romantic bone in his body.’

‘And you’re always trying to convince us that there’s more to him.’ Caz lowered herself gently to the table with a wince.

It wasn’t a state secret that my friends hadn’t gelled with my boyfriend.

But they didn’t see the same Will I did.

He wasn’t a people person. He didn’t ooze charisma or light up any room he walked into.

He was the kind of guy that was great when you were on your own with him.

He listened, had interesting things to say, but put him in a group situation and he’d find the side of an argument that no one wanted to take, just to provoke debate.

A characteristic not on my ideal boyfriend wish list, but it wasn’t like I was going to date him for ever.

I was a realist when it came to relationships.

I was never going to marry a guy I’d met when I was an actual teenager.

When I was a teenager. I was now officially in my twenties. I swallowed a lump in my throat; that was going to take some getting used to.

‘You know what I mean. It’s not like he’s going to be whisking me off for a day in Paris or something. We’re probably just going to Margate for some fish and chips.’

Caz wrinkled her nose. ‘Please don’t mention food.’

‘Did he not give you any clues? What if it’s a super-fancy restaurant?’ asked Amy.

‘He just said to dress comfortably.’

I dug around in the fridge and passed a can of Coke across the table to Caz. ‘Drink this, you’ll feel better.’

‘Dress comfortably? What does that even mean? Tracksuit bottoms? Jeans? Trainers? Or comfy heels?’ Amy was blinking as her brain flicked through the options in her mind.

‘He didn’t say. If it makes you feel better, I’ll text and ask.’

I tapped out a quick message.

Amy was twitching behind me. She was one of life’s planners.

She would no doubt have interrogated Will when he first mentioned this day trip until she had a full itinerary and a packing list. But I’d been so grateful that Will had even suggested anything, I hadn’t wanted to spook him by asking too much.

‘I can’t believe you’re this calm,’ said Amy. ‘Aren’t you even going to do your hair? I can straighten it if you like? Get those back bits flat.’

‘Would you?’

‘Of course. I told you. I’m Fairy Godmother.’

I unwrapped the towel and my half-dried hair fell about my shoulders.

‘Hmm, I’m going to need more than a magic wand for this.’ She tugged at my hair.

‘Oi, that hurts.’

‘Go blow-dry it and I’ll warm up my hair straighteners.’

Amy unpinned another section of my hair, and fed it through her fancy GHDs. My phone beeped and I lurched up to get it, but she pushed me back down in the chair.

‘Hold tight, I’m almost done,’ she said, a slight hiss escaping as she caught a patch of not quite dry hair.

Caz’s head was rested on the table and her eyes kept closing. Every so often she’d jolt as she jumped in her near-sleep.

‘But it might be from Will.’

Amy sighed. ‘Just this once.’

She leaned behind her and presented me with my phone.

‘Is it from him?’

‘From my mum.’

Happy 5th Birthday Darling Girl. Hope you have a wonderful time. Wish I was spending the day with you. Kisses xxxxx

I smiled. My mum always counted my leap year birthdays as my proper birthdays. I sent a quick message of thanks.

‘I’m surprised she didn’t come up today.’

‘We’re going to Bluewater next weekend.’

Amy was raking her hands through my hair and she stopped abruptly. ‘Jealous. I love a big shopping trip.’

‘It’ll mostly be window shopping.’

Neither of us had the healthiest of bank balances.

‘Sometimes those are the best trips, when you’re not stressed out looking for something in particular.’

‘Absolutely. Give us time to potter round.’

‘And have plenty of time to catch up on her dating stories. Has she been speed dating again?’

‘No, thank goodness. Ouch.’ Amy grazed the side of my head with the hot plate.

‘Sorry. And that’s a shame for her.’

My mum had recently started to date again, which I fully supported right up until she started oversharing.

Since my parents’ divorce, the two of us had become more like friends than mother and daughter, which would be fine if not for my mother’s emerging sex life.

Whilst I was excited that she might find someone that makes her happy, I dreaded the idea of hearing about anything more than a peck on the cheek at the end of the night.

‘But not a shame for me. I haven’t quite got over her and Mr Carrington.’

Amy snorted then stopped herself.

‘It’s not funny. It was bad enough that she went on a date with one of my old teachers, let alone … ’ I shuddered at the thought of what had happened when he’d dropped her home.

I could see Amy in the mirror we’d put on the table to pretend we were in a proper hair salon. She was biting her lip hard, doing a terrible job of trying not to laugh.

I couldn’t help but smile too. As much as Mum’s dating life made me cringe, I was pleased she was at least getting out there again. When Dad left, the sparkle had left her eyes, and now, four and a half years later, it was only just starting to return.

We’d come a long way in those four and a half years.

I thought of my last leap year birthday.

I’d planned a sixteenth birthday party at the local hockey club and invited what felt like my entire year.

For one night only it was supposed to be all about me.

I was going to be the popular one. The one that everyone made a fuss of.

Only I spent the entire time trying to keep my parents in separate rooms to stop the bickering.

I’d barely acknowledged my guests and I’d definitely not partied on the dancefloor with my friends.

I was about to put my phone back on the table when it beeped in my hand.

‘It’s Will. What the … “Jeans. Trainers. Something warm.”’ I gasped, before I read out the rest to Amy. ‘“And forgot to say, you need your passport.”’

‘Passport,’ shrieked Amy so loud that Caz startled and sat bolt upright.

‘What’s going on?’ she rubbed at her eyes and stared between us.

Amy prodded me until I snapped out of my shock.

‘My passport,’ I said, leaping out of my seat and grabbing Amy by the hands. We danced around in a circle. ‘Will told me to bring my passport.’

Amy stopped and I almost crashed into her.

‘Oh my god, you’re going to Paris.’

‘We’re not going to Paris.’

‘No, she’s right. You know you can get the Eurostar from Ashford, don’t you?’

‘Exactly.’ Amy pointed at Caz. ‘That’s exactly where you’re going.’

‘Can you really get it from there?’ My mind was racing. Surely Will wouldn’t actually do something that romantic, would he?