Chapter 11
I woke up with a pounding headache and a throat so dry it was like someone had sucked all the moisture out with a vacuum cleaner. I risked opening my eyes, the light streaming in through the curtains.
I tried to take in the scene of my room and piece together what had happened. I was wearing a vest top and pants, the top back to front. My clothes from last night were trailed along my floor and there was a pint glass on its side on my bedside table.
‘Shit,’ I muttered, trying to mop up the spillage on the floor with a rogue towel, hoping it wouldn’t stain the carpet.
I needed water and headed out to the kitchen. The living-room door was shut; no doubt Noah was still fast asleep. The jetlag had caught up with him and he’d been asleep most of the taxi ride home, and had collapsed as soon as we’d got in.
I downed a glass of water, then another, my head still pounding. And I started to replay the moments of last night. Noah and me laughing, dancing, then I remembered the feeling of his fingers running up my thigh. How close we’d come to kissing.
The front door slammed, and I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
‘Morning,’ called Noah, far too chirpily for my liking.
I pulled my dressing gown tighter around me.
‘Morning. You’re up early.’
‘Couldn’t sleep.’ He took his bag off his back and started to unpack. He had a large bottle of orange juice, what looked like a paper bag of croissants, and a pack of photos.
‘Is that your last film?’ I said, filling the kettle up.
‘Uh-huh, I dropped it in yesterday afternoon, popped in on the off-chance they were ready and they were.’
He started to flick through the pack, smiling at each one. ‘Koh Phi Phi.’ He held out a photo of the classic Thailand beach shot with long-tailed boat, turquoise waters and golden sands.
‘Stunning.’
He flicked through the others and then he stopped. His smile changed, before he handed one to me. ‘Here.’
It was the photo Noah had taken in the pedalo. It did have our faces in it, and it wasn’t the most flattering of photos, my nose was scrunched up and my eyes were shut, but my smile was wide and I could almost hear the laughter.
‘I’m proud of that. Both faces in and everything.’
‘No bald spot though.’
‘No,’ he said, laughing, ‘but maybe an extra chin of mine I didn’t know I was carrying.’ He stroked at his face.
I went to hand it back but he stopped me.
‘You keep it, I’ll get a copy. Pin it on the fridge or something.’ He pointed at our messy fridge that had magnets holding back masses of takeaway menus, letters and photos, and then he went back to the pack in his hands. ‘Now I just have to spot you in here.’
I looked over his shoulder, of course spotting myself immediately, but I could see how it wouldn’t be easy for Noah to find me in the sea of faces.
He brought it closer and then he laughed. ‘Got you.’
‘Already?’
‘I’m a seasoned pro.’
I flicked on the kettle, and set about getting the cups. ‘I take it you want coffee?’
‘I’d kill for one.’ He pulled up a chair at the kitchen table, and I got some jam out of the fridge for the croissants. ‘It was a good night last night.’
‘It was.’
‘Quite drunken.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Look, Luce, I’m sorry about, you know, that bit near the end where I got a bit touchy-feely.’
‘Oh yeah, I was going to talk to you about that.’ My voice was a little shaky, unsure what I was going to say, my mind flip-flopping between my heart and my head. My heart telling me how amazing it would be and my head telling me that if it went wrong I’d lose Noah from my life.
‘It shouldn’t have happened,’ he said, opening out the paper bag. ‘I’d had far too much to drink and I think it’s new for me being drunk and feeling soppy and not having a girlfriend and—’
My heart burned and my stomach sank.
‘I get it. It’s fine.’ I raised my hand. Not wanting to hear any more. Because that’s something I hadn’t considered. That this wasn’t about us, but him being a bit drunk and single after so long. ‘Good job we stopped it.’
The words came out a little bitter, but if I’d been doubting my decision to push him away, I was now glad I had.
I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if we hadn’t stopped and then had to have this conversation after.
‘Good job,’ he said. ‘Now, do you want one of these croissants?’
‘Actually, I’m going to head into the shower.’ The kettle came to the boil and chirped, but I couldn’t stay to make the coffee. The tears were starting to sting behind my eyes.
‘I’ll try not to eat them all,’ he said, as I hurried to the bathroom.
I flicked on the shower and shut the door, resting against it and letting the tears fall.
An hour later, dressed, hair blow-dried and neatly styled, I had breakfast in the kitchen whilst Noah showered.
‘What are you going to do for the next big birthday?’ Amy was flicking through Noah’s holiday snaps. ‘Perhaps we should go here. It looks awesome.’
She flashed a photo of a jungle on the edge of a beach.
‘Looks amazing. Might be a bit extravagant for a birthday though.’
‘I think we should go somewhere. A city break?’ said Paul. ‘I’m sure you could put Amy on the case.’
‘You certainly can.’ She sighed as she took in another beautiful beach. She finished up the pack, not even giving the one of Trafalgar Square a second glance.
‘I should probably get my stuff together to go to Noah’s parents.’ Paul stood up and winced in pain. ‘Bloody hell, I think I pulled a muscle in my bum last night.’
‘Don’t look at me,’ said Amy, holding her hands up.
‘I think it was when I was on that podium. Your friend Mags is a bad influence.’
He pointed at me and I shrugged back. Seeing him and Mags do Coyote Ugly-style dancing to ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ had been one of my highlights of last night.
‘What are we all laughing at?’ said Noah, towel drying his hair. Luckily he was fully dressed. His hoodie had none of the effect his dripping wet torso had had on me yesterday.
‘Paul dancing on that podium with Mags.’
‘I didn’t know you had it in you, buddy.’ Noah patted him on the back, and Paul flinched again.
‘I don’t think I did; that’s why my body’s now in shock.’
He hobbled out of the kitchen. Noah put the kettle on and picked up the cup in front of me. ‘Coffee?’
‘Thanks,’ I said, not meeting his eye. I’d given myself a bit of a pep talk in the shower. I knew that this feeling would pass, and in time I’d be pleased that we hadn’t jeopardised our friendship, but right now I felt a plethora of emotions: gutted, upset, but mostly foolish.
‘Your mate Mags seemed like a lot of fun.’
‘She is.’
‘She gave me her phone number.’ My stomach lurched. ‘She said to call her as she might have a friend that could help about a job.’
‘Oh, you should do that,’ I said, relieved that that’s all it was about. ‘She’s an excellent networker.’
‘That sounds like it could be promising.’ Amy drained her glass of juice and filled it up with more.
‘I’ll take any leads at this point.’
The shrill of our doorbell rang out.
I raised an eyebrow at Amy. ‘Postman?’
‘It’s probably my parents.’ Noah started towards the door.
‘They’re coming here?’ The kitchen that looked like we’d had a full-on party here the night before. There were discarded glasses everywhere, and it probably stank of booze.
‘They’ve seen worse.’ He shook his head and went downstairs to answer the door.
Amy and I shared a split-second look, before we started to work at making the kitchen presentable.
‘I thought they weren’t coming until later,’ she said, flipping open the window as I collected empty beer bottles and put them in a plastic bag.
‘I thought the boys were catching the train?’
‘I don’t think they trusted the boys to actually make it. They thought they’d be too hungover. And between you and me, I don’t think his mum could wait any longer to see him.’
We heard Noah’s parents’ voices carry up the stairs and I hastily started to stack the dishwasher. By the time they made it to the kitchen, it looked semi-presentable.
‘Hello, girls.’ Sandra, Noah’s mum, held her arms wide and gave us both a squeeze. ‘Look at you two; so grown up, so grown up.’
She stroked my cheek.
‘And look at this place. I can’t believe you live here. Look at this natural light. Oh, it’s so gorgeous. Such a contrast to those dingy houses you all rented off-campus.’
‘Yeah, we’ve definitely lucked out with this place.’
‘It makes me shiver just thinking about how cold those houses were,’ said Amy.
Noah walked in, closely followed by his dad.
‘Hello, hello.’
‘Hello, Mr Matthews.’
‘Lucy,’ he sighed. ‘I thought we’d dropped that. Mr Matthews is my father, and whilst I might have gone grey like him, that’s where the similarities end. It’s Peter.’
I nodded, smiling at how this was a well-rehearsed script that me and Peter read off each time we saw each other.
‘No ring on that finger yet then, Amy?’ Sandra grabbed at her ring hand to investigate.
‘No, not yet.’ She blushed. ‘Not sure we’re quite there.’
‘You know, by your age, we were married with a toddler. I don’t know why you all leave it so late these days.’
‘So that you’ve retired by the time we have kids and we get free childcare.’
She giggled and playfully hit Noah on the arm.
‘You wouldn’t believe with his cheek that I’d miss him.’
She beamed at her son, and he wrapped his arm around her.
‘And where is Paul, anyway?’
‘He’s gone for a shower.’
‘Right, so we’ve got time for a tour of the house?’
I pulled a face. ‘I don’t think you want to see the rest of the place; Noah slept in the front room.’
She raised a hand.
‘Say no more, I used to clean his bedroom.’
‘Hey, I’m right here.’
‘I know.’ She tugged at his cheeks. ‘It’s so lovely to have you all in the same room. I wish you were all coming back with us.’
‘They wouldn’t all fit in the car,’ said Peter.
‘I wasn’t suggesting it. But you know that you’re always welcome, right? Noah’s staying with us indefinitely.’
‘Until May, when I move in with Liam.’