Chapter 19 #3
I knew what I had to do. What I wanted to do. I just prayed I wasn’t already too late.
‘Come on,’ I growled at the ancient row of buzzers, jabbing my finger at each one in turn in the hope that someone, anyone, would answer.
‘Yes?’ crackled a voice through the speaker. It was female. Old. That distinctive air of permanent irritation I recognised instantly.
I grimaced. ‘Hi, Mrs Norris, it’s Jenny. Jenny Thompson.’
‘Jenny Thompson?’ She said the words impossibly slowly, pronouncing each syllable with the speed of a snail.
‘Yes, from number 4. Can you buzz me in, please?’
‘I thought you moved out?’
I bit my tongue, bashing my head repeatedly against the stone wall. The woman is convinced it’s still 1942, and yet she remembers that tiny, insignificant detail?
‘Well yes, I did move out, but—’
‘ Such an inconvenience,’ she drawled, a dramatic sigh wheezing through the intercom.
As though my whole world being turned upside down was incredibly tiresome – for her.
‘You know, as the building’s longest resident, I would have appreciated some notice, Jennifer.
The new chap up there has people coming and going at all hours.
Music students apparently,’ she scoffed, somehow making the words sound dirty.
‘Honestly, does he think I was born yesterday?’
‘Can you just buzz me in, please?’ I shouted, losing what dwindling patience I had left. She was ruining my end-of-the-movie-running-through-the-airport-to-stop-the-guy-getting-on-the-plane moment.
‘Young people these days, no manners,’ Mrs Norris tutted, but the door buzzed open a few seconds later.
‘Thank you!’ I yelled into the speaker, wrenching the door open and taking the stairs two at a time. By the time I reached the top floor I was sweating profusely, my top sticking to my body in odd places, but I didn’t care. I rapped my knuckles sharply on the door, my heart in my mouth.
Nothing.
I knocked again, louder this time.
Still nothing. Fuck. This was the equivalent of turning up at the airport to find you’d not only missed the guy, but that the plane had already taken off!
Bloody Hollywood and their making you think that big, grand gestures always end with a foot-popping kiss.
My hand hammered repeatedly against the door until my palm burned.
‘Luca, it’s me. Please open the door,’ I pleaded.
I knew he was in. I’d seen the lights on in his flat from the road.
But the unopened door spoke volumes in the silence of the landing, a big, loud HE DOESN’T WANT TO SEE YOU echoing round my head.
I leaned my forehead against the door for a second, my hand flopping to my side in defeat.
I turned, eyeing the tired, worn staircase with a sigh.
But my sinking heart did a little leap, fluttering to life when I heard soft approaching footsteps from inside the flat.
I screwed my eyes tightly shut, trying to steady my breathing as I silently mouthed the words I’d been practising on the journey over.
I heard the door click open, the hairs on my arms standing on end as though I was being drawn towards him by some invisible force.
‘Look, I know you’re mad at me and you have every right to be,’ I said quickly, tripping over the words in my haste to get them out before Luca could close the door in my face.
My eyes were still closed, clamped firmly shut until I’d said what I’d come here to say, because I knew that one look into Luca’s eyes and my brain would be scrambled.
‘I was scared. Scared of starting again, scared of losing someone who’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, scared of what I’ve felt every day since I met you – OK, maybe not the first day, you were pretty annoying back then, still are actually – that’s not the point.
’ I frowned, shaking my head. ‘The point is, you’ve been kind and loving and patient whilst I try and heal from all the things you didn’t break.
And the thing I’m most scared of is walking away from you today and never feeling again for the rest of my life how I feel when I’m with you.
So, I choose you, Luca. I can’t lose you.
I just can’t. And I’m sorry I fought that for so long.
But you make me feel like there’s everything to live for, and I’ve not felt like that in a really, really long time.
I don’t know what the future holds, and I’ve got no fucking idea where I want to be in 10 years’ time.
But wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, I know I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you. ’
‘Sorry, who are you?’
My eyes snapped open, the unfamiliar female voice causing the breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding to rush out in a single, loud sigh.
A woman’s face was just about visible behind the door: tiny button nose, big blue eyes, even bigger lashes.
A pink chrome-manicured hand gripped the side of the door as she peered around it, as if she was afraid I might barge my way in.
I blinked, my cheeks warm at the thought of having just poured my heart out to this complete stranger.
‘I’m Jenny,’ I said, finally finding my voice. ‘I’m, umm .?.?. a friend of Luca’s.’
‘A friend ?’ The woman’s eyes travelled disdainfully down to my feet and back up again. ‘Luca’s never mentioned you,’ she said dismissively, her tone almost accusing. Like she thought I was making it up. I smiled tightly.
‘Well, he didn’t know I was coming, kind of an impromptu visit, so—’ I expected her to open the door, invite me in.
But her welcome was about as frosty as her stare.
I leaned this way and that, trying to see around her into the tiny slit of the flat that was visible behind the half-closed door.
‘Is Luca home? I really need to talk to him.’
The woman’s eyes narrowed a fraction, her lips pursed as though she were contemplating something important, like a chess player determining their next move. And then the frostiness was gone, a giant, beaming smile lighting up her face.
‘Sorry, how rude of me. I’ve not even introduced myself,’ she scolded herself, flashing her pearly whites as she held the door open. ‘I’m Rachel. Luca’s fiancée.’
I froze, my whole body numb. Rachel was still talking, her lips moving animatedly, but I was too focused on what she was wearing to hear a word she had to say.
Her bare feet peeped out from Luca’s oversized grey jogging bottoms that hung low and loose around her hips, the drawstring tied in a double bow to keep them up.
That familiar white t-shirt that I’d last seen on Luca’s bedroom floor, because that’s where I’d thrown it after peeling it from his body, swamped her tiny frame.
But it was the ring that sparkled on the third finger of her left hand that stopped my heart in my chest.
‘Luca’s just in the shower. Things got a bit—’ Rachel paused for a fraction too long for it not to be intentional, purposefully waiting until I met her gaze before she finished ‘—dirty.’ A sharp pain shot through my chest. ‘I’ll tell him you stopped by, OK?’
But it was the kind of question that didn’t wait for an answer, the door slamming shut in my face.
The brass number 4 and flaky red paint blurred at the edges as my eyes stung with tears.
Tears of regret and disappointment and jealousy and pain.
I waited until I felt my legs could support me again, and then I began the long, slow journey back down the staircase.
Away from the flat. Away from Luca. Away from all of it.