Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
They went back to her place, obviously. Did he even have a place? Was he even real? Perhaps he was just a fabrication of her mind that she had created to pass the time. Assuming he was, in fact, real, Felicity made a mental note to ask him about his place later. She didn’t want to ruin the excitement of the moment with silly things like details.
And if she was completely honest, at that point Felicity didn’t care at all where he lived or what he did for a living or any of that other stuff. She didn’t even care if she’d just made him up. Whether he was real or imaginary, she just wanted to be held by him, like she had never wanted to be held by anyone before. As they walked arm in arm towards her flat through the fog, the tension between them felt thick and charged with electricity. Surely, she felt, it must be visible to the naked eye. Maybe even from space. The thought made her chuckle to herself as they walked. Or was that just the nerves?
As they reached her building and began to walk up the stairs to her flat, Felicity was slightly in front of James and she could feel his closeness, feel him just behind her. She was longing for him to touch her, tingling all over with the anticipation of it. It was thrilling.
The moment was ruined, however, when she arrived at the flat door to find the pale blue Tiffany box sitting on the doormat along with an enormous bunch of incredible yellow roses. Enormous, perfect yellow roses. Mind-blowingly beautiful and filling the entire vestibule with their heady scent. It usually smelled of far less savoury things.
They stared at the vision before them for a long, interminably long, excruciating time. Side by side. Neither saying a word.
‘So, there’s that,’ said James, eventually.
‘Yup,’ said Felicity and she could feel her vision narrowing as if she was on the verge of a panic attack. Stay calm.
‘Let’s go in, shall we? No point standing around out here,’ she said, briskly. There had been a profound shift in the atmosphere and she couldn’t think how to pull it back. James nodded, not looking at her. Felicity unlocked the door, and then picked up the ring as if it was a bomb, holding it at arm’s length as she navigated the threshold and then placed it carefully on the kitchen worktop. She decided to leave the flowers, there was no way to carry in such an enormous and beautiful bunch of flowers without looking a tiny bit pleased.
James hovered in the doorway, his face like thunder.
‘Come in, if you’re coming,’ said Felicity over her shoulder, in a much breezier tone than she felt. She took her coat off and flicked the kettle on and sent up a silent prayer. Please let him come in, please let him come in , over and over like a chant. She’d had time to make two coffees and right-angle-tidy the lounge before he finally emerged from the hallway.
‘Have a seat,’ she said.
He sat, coat and shoes still on, face fixed in a combination of confusion and anger.
Finally, he spoke the question he had clearly been formulating since they got back to the flat. ‘What does it mean?’
‘I have no idea.’
He glanced at her, finally.
‘Honestly, James, I had no idea he even still had it, he must have taken it when we went to the pub.’
‘You two went to the pub? When, exactly?’
Backtrack, backtrack.
‘Oh, er, way back before my holiday. We just, um, had a catch up, that’s all.’
James looked like he was trying to calculate a complicated maths problem. Felicity, meanwhile, could hear a strange roaring noise in her ears. Another mild dose of panic on its way, presumably.
‘And you needed to take the ring with you, did you? To this catch up?’
This conversation was getting worse by the minute.
Whatever you do, don’t mention Guernsey.
‘I was taking it back. Returning it to him. I didn’t want it. Even if it is Tiffany and bloody expensive. Should have flogged it on eBay instead, now I think about it.’
James didn’t even crack a smile.
‘But, er, that’s not what’s important. The important thing here is, the ring means nothing to me. Adam means nothing to me.’
‘I know that,’ said James simply, looking at her directly now. ‘How could he mean anything to you? He’s a lying snake.’
‘Yes, yes he is,’ said Felicity, a little taken aback.
James was on a roll now. ‘Never mind the fact that he used it to turn up out of the blue and “sort of” propose to you after a three-year separation. And then left it on your doorstep. That’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?’
Felicity felt a weird impulse to defend Adam. The fact that she’d known him so long, that they had been childhood sweethearts and all that, wasn’t exactly reflecting well on her.
‘I’m sure he didn’t mean it to be creepy. He’s… lonely, I guess.’
James shot her a look.
‘I mean, I know it looks bad, all this. But he’s a good guy, underneath it all.’
‘You’re not defending him, surely?’
‘No, no. Course not.’
Maybe. A bit.
She moved from the armchair to the sofa next to him and gently pulled his coat from his shoulders in a vague attempt to placate him. And maybe, just maybe, to discourage him from walking out of the door immediately. It was awfully cold out, after all.
Please don’t leave.
‘Look, I’ve told him how I feel. I’ve told him I’m not interested. I can try again, if that will make you feel better.’
James gave a sort of non-committal grunt and then slipped an arm around her shoulders. ‘I know something else that will make me feel better.’
He pulled her into him and covered her mouth with a kiss. His lips felt so natural on hers, somehow, and she pressed herself against him, feeling her whole body respond to his, all thoughts of Adam immediately vanishing. Her blood thumped in her ears as his hand moved round to her back and slid up underneath her top. It felt firm but soft and so good on her skin. So right.
As his lips grazed her neck, she could bear it no longer.
‘Stay,’ whispered Felicity.
But that was clearly not the right thing to say, and she cursed herself as he broke off and looked at her.
‘I want to,’ he said, his voice husky. ‘I want to… so badly. But I’ve got your bloody ex-boyfriend in my head now, and I’m not letting him get in the way of things again. Give me a week. Next Saturday I’m coming to cook for you and then I’m going to get you naked. Trust me, it’ll be worth waiting for.’
Under his gaze, Felicity felt all her clothes disappear in a puff of fire and smoke.
But I’m ready now .