Chapter Twenty-One #2
‘I love soaking in the zen of the spa. I’m excellent at it.’ I nod over to the empty pool on the opposite side of the room. Why don’t you go have a swim?’
River shakes his head quickly, a large swallow making his Adam’s apple bob up and down. ‘No swimming!’ he says in a weird, strangled voice, before clearing his throat and saying in his normal voice, ‘I mean … I’d prefer not to swim right now.’
‘Hold on …’ I say, surprised by his response to the mere suggestion of a swim. I gasp. ‘River … Can you not swim? I mean, it’d be odd if you couldn’t with a name like River.’
He throws me a look of disdain. ‘Yes, I can swim. Are you kidding? Of course I can swim.’ But his reddening cheeks tell another story.
‘No way!’ I breathe. ‘Wow. Something you’re not amazing at.’
‘I never professed to be amazing at everything.’
‘Only seduction, literary quizzes, ranching, horse-riding, flirting and picking out hot dresses for heartbroken women.’
River throws his hands up, causing a little water to splash onto his chest, where it snakes slowly down over his pecs.
I drag my eyes away. ‘Fine,’ he grumbles.
‘I can barely swim. I took a few lessons as a kid but my mom was deathly afraid of deep water. Every time she brought me to the pool for a lesson, she’d get hysterical, shouting at me to be careful, not to go too deep.
I’d never seen my mom lose control over her emotions like that – not before she started drinking anyway.
Her reaction made me afraid of deep water, seeing her so certain that something bad would happen to me.
She took me out of lessons and, I don’t know, I just never went back. ’
I look across at him, this big bruiser of a man, and cannot imagine him being afraid of anything. He stares grimly at the bubbling water.
‘All that and she named you River?’
‘That was my father’s choice. His grandfather and great-great-grandfather were Rivers too. My mom wanted to call me Wayne.’
‘I’m glad she didn’t.’
‘Me too.’
I nudge him with my shoulder. ‘Hey, what if you didn’t show up here to help me get Henry back? What if you showed up here so I can teach you how to swim?’ I tease in a bid to lighten the tension. ‘I mean, I’m a great swimmer. Well. I’m not bad. At breaststroke. My front crawl is a bit gnarly.’
River huffs a laugh. ‘Yep. It’s entirely feasible this all happened so I could take swimming lessons from a writer who is “not bad” at swimming.’
‘Imagine if it was, though.’ I giggle. ‘The total pressure we’d be under to get you doggy-paddling.’
River chuckles softly and studies me. ‘So you’re not great at swimming. What are you great at?’
I shrug, hyper aware of the fact that my swimming costume is possibly a little bit small these days. My boobs are all squished upwards. I notice him noticing, the steam of the jacuzzi thankfully accounting for my red cheeks. I dip down so I’m more covered by the bubbles. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I noticed last night, those nerves? Around Henry. Like you’re, I don’t know, intimidated by him.’
‘I’m not intimidated by him! Of course I’m not! It’s just the situation. Don’t know if you noticed, but there’s kind of a lot at stake here.’
River laughs darkly. ‘Oh, sorry, anyone would think you were the one possibly trapped in a parallel universe.’
‘Hey, we don’t know that that’s what’s happening.’
‘What else could it be?’
‘Like I said, we don’t know!’
‘Well, whatever it is, we really gotta get a handle on these nerves of yours. The first rule of flirting is confidence.’
I bite the corner of my lip. ‘I’m just genuinely desperate for him to come back home.
Plus, I don’t know if you noticed, but Henry is pretty perfect and way out of my league.
You know, he once surprised me with a trip to Paris because he wanted to tell me he loved me at the top of the Eiffel Tower!
He once wrote me a love poem. An actual honest-to-God love poem, which he read out in front of everyone at the restaurant we were at and they all applauded because the poem was that good.
I need to show him why I’m worth it and that’s what’s making me nervous. ’
‘You think he’s too good for you?’
‘Yes. Of course. He’s blatantly amazing. He’s very clearly too good for me.’
River laughs. ‘No, Gertie, he’s not.’ He sits up a little straighter.
‘Come on. Tell me what else you’re good at.
What else you like about yourself. We need to get that self-confidence way up.
No point you being gussied up in pretty dresses and the like if you don’t see what you bring to the party, what makes you stand out, what makes you worth sticking around for. ’
‘Okay,’ I muse. ‘That makes sense.’
I try to think about what I bring to the party.
I really try.
‘This is hard …’ I mutter after a few moments. ‘I suppose I’m quite normal, to be honest. When you grow up with a sister as dazzling as Josie, you very quickly see where you fall short. And I don’t say that in a woe is me, oh my sister took all my attention way. Just in an honest one.’
‘I’ll start you off then,’ River says. ‘You’re kind.’
I wave him away. ‘Most people are kind.’
‘Not in my experience. Everyone acts all sweetness and light to get what they need from you, but a lot of the time it ain’t coming from a real place. I may not have known you long, but I can tell your kindness is genuine.’
‘People are more genuine than you think they are, River. I’m certain of it.’
‘That’s another good thing,’ River says, glancing down at me. ‘You’re earnest. You wear your heart right there on your sleeve. Most people can’t do that. Can’t show their feelings so … so openly. I sure can’t wear my heart on my sleeve that way.’
‘Well, that’s because you don’t have a heart.’
River laughs. ‘Very true. You’re funny too.’
I nod. ‘I suppose I did used to make Josie laugh a lot.’
‘Was Josie—’
Before River can finish the question my phone buzzes on the tiled side, the vibrations making it shuffle perilously close to the edge of the jacuzzi.
‘Eek!’ I swipe it up quickly and look at the screen.
Gertie, I am starting to get worried at your lack of response? Please update me. I am your agent. I am here for you. All best, Bridget xx
Shit. She’s just going to keep on asking and she’s clearly getting stressed now.
I exhale slowly. Gah. It’s time. I’m going to have to suck up my embarrassment and tell Bridget exactly how behind I am.
My stomach tenses as I imagine having to actually admit to her that I haven’t written a word of the book.
Will she shout at me? Chuck me as her client?
Will she use her spare key to enter my house again and handcuff me to the desk until I get something, anything, written.
I quickly dry my hands on the rolled-up towel by my head.
Bridget, I start typing out. I’m afraid—
And then, before I can even finish the text, the jets of the jacuzzi suddenly clunk down and the bubbles come to a stop.
At the same time, all the soft overhead lights in the spa switch off, and the room is plunged into darkness, the only light the flickering of the single scented candle burning by the exit of the spa, and the blue-ish glow of my phone screen.
‘Must be a power cut,’ River says, looking down at the now still water. ‘Huh. Without the bubbles we’re now just two near-strangers taking a sad public bath together.’
I laugh at the accuracy of his comment, but, to my horror, the jerky movement of my giggles causes my phone to slip out of my hands and into the dark water below.
‘Argh! Shit, my phone!’
I immediately reach down to scoop it up from the water, bundling it into the towel, my heart sinking as I see that the screen has gone black.
‘Nooooo. I think I’ve broken it.’
‘It might still work.’ River stands up with a splash, taking the swaddled phone from me and wading up the steps of the jacuzzi to safety. ‘We just need to get it completely dry,’ he says. ‘Let’s get some rice from the kitchen.’
Once we’ve slipped back into our robes the pair of us pad across to the hotel kitchen to see the chef, who gives us a bag of rice from a box specifically labelled Phone Rice. Which makes me feel slightly less of an idiot for taking my phone to the spa, or at the very least one of many idiots.
Once we’re back in the room and I’ve stuck my poor phone deep into the bag of rice, we place it in the centre of the coffee table like some sad ornament. We stare at it for a little bit, not saying anything.
‘Well, it’s not as good as Midsomer Murders,’ I deadpan. River laughs out loud then, a big honk of a laugh. I laugh too as his face creases up, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
I feel an unexpected lump form in my throat as I realise that the last person I made laugh that hard was Josie.
‘Hey,’ I say, nudging River. ‘You know when two people laugh together over something stupid it means they’re becoming friends?’
River narrows his eyes, mouth quirking upwards. ‘Friends? Nah. Not my style.’
‘Sometimes you don’t get a choice in the matter.’ I give him a determined nod. ‘Yep. I definitely think we’re becoming friends.’
River stands up and heads to the shower, turning back to look at me with a grin. He eventually shrugs a shoulder. ‘I suppose stranger things have happened.’