Chapter Thirty-Four Tom
Chapter Thirty-Four
Tom
Tom rolled over in bed, smiling as he took in the figure beside him, hair sprawled across the pillow. Her lips were slightly
parted, her chest rising gently with each breath. He reached out and stroked the skin of her cheek with his thumb, not wanting
to wake her. It was 4:00 a.m. It was time for him to catch the bus.
Stepping out of bed, Tom pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, tiptoeing toward the door before turning back. This was it. This was
how Daisy looked when she was sleeping. Everything in him wanted to run and climb straight back into bed with her, kiss her
until she woke up, but he had something he had to do before his flight to Incheon later that day. The wake-up kisses could
happen when he got back.
Tom pulled on his jumper and jacket at the door and stepped out of his flat, walking toward the bus stop, the spring in his step and the grin on his face noticeable even to him.
What a difference a few months could make.
Were he to rewind to those weeks after The Worst Day, he couldn’t have imagined a time where he was awake and catching the bus for a positive reason.
Not only that, but the woman who helped to change his life, who was usually on this bus, wasn’t on it today because she was at his flat, in his bed, having booked the week off work to join him in South Korea.
She wanted to see the world, she said. And she wanted to see it with him.
She had a job interview for the investigative role when she got back.
They’d done the application together and when, a few days later, the interview came in, both of them jumped up and down hugging each other before dancing across his kitchen.
The Worst Day. Tom could never call it that again, could he? Because for all of the bad that came with it, it had brought
him to Daisy. It had perhaps done exactly what it was supposed to, which meant that actually, all in all, as he looked at
it now, he couldn’t be more grateful for that day and where he stood now as a result of it. Perhaps he needed to remember
that, going forward. That sometimes what you think is the worst day of your life is a turning point. A door. A step into a
world that eventually becomes much, much better.
Tom tapped his card and instead of going to his usual seat, he took Daisy’s, settling into it and staring out her window,
taking a moment to see what the world looked like through her eyes. It was beautiful, but anything probably would be to Tom
right now.
He stayed on the bus all the way to the end, fleeting memories appearing with the various stops they passed. The fistfight
that got them walking together before King’s Cross, the argument at Euston, the snow falling on Tottenham Court Road. He already
had so many memories with Daisy. A history formed before he ever knew he would fall in love with her. Or that perhaps, he
already had.
When the bus terminated at Holles Street, he took the same walk he’d taken once before, past Denmark Street and down past
Piccadilly Circus. Frowning, he watched as a jogger went by in fluorescent yellow trainers. Tom was fairly sure he’d seen
that exact man last time and perhaps, he hoped, that was a good sign.
Turning off Haymarket and onto Pall Mall, he rounded the corner, noting that the sky was so much darker than it had been when he was last here.
The air was cooler and Tom rubbed his hands together as he squinted ahead, preparing himself for disappointment.
So much had changed in Tom’s life recently that it was impossible for him to believe that someone else could be living in the same way they’d always been.
He approached the square, unable to make out anything in the night sky but, as he grew closer, he was fairly sure he could hear it. The low rumbling tones of a sea shanty.
“Stormy,” Tom said, approaching the fountain, and there he was, his back resting against the wall, dressed still in his shirt
and jacket.
Stormy turned and looked up, squinting. “I’m afraid I don’t remember your name,” he said. “But I remember you. Where’s your
camera?”
Tom held his arms out, revealing them to be empty. “I left it at home. It’s all packed for a trip I’m taking,” he said. “Can
I—” he looked over the road toward the café they’d been in before “—get you some breakfast?”
Even though it was dark, Tom was sure he saw Stormy’s eyes light up, just a little. He held out a hand to Tom. “Could you
help me up?”
Tom reached down and placed his forearm in Stormy’s hand, holding on and leaning back, pulling him up. He started walking
immediately toward the Pret with a limp.
“What happened?” Tom asked, nodding at his leg.
“Life,” he said. “Life happened.”
Tom nodded. How naive it was of him to think that just because his life had got considerably better since he last saw Stormy,
that Stormy’s would have too. If he’d learned anything from their last chat, it was that, yes, human beings were all similar
in many ways, but they could also live entirely different lives.
Tom helped Stormy take a seat and ordered him a bacon roll and tea, and a coffee for himself, just like he had before. Not for the first time he thought of Daisy asleep in his bed, a rush of gratitude filling his body as he sat down.
“I see it,” Stormy said, reaching immediately for his bacon roll, his eyes fixed on Tom’s face. “You’ve done it.”
Tom smiled and opened his mouth, ready to speak.
“You’re happier,” Stormy continued, nodding at him before taking a bite of his sandwich and washing it down with some tea.
It wasn’t what Tom was expecting him to say. “I am,” he said. “I really am.”
“I’m glad.” He put his sandwich down and shuffled back in his seat. “You weren’t holding yourself well last time. Sagging
shoulders and eyes all dark and full of sadness. And your voice . . . it had no melody to it. When all you do is watch people
all day, you pick up on this stuff. The little parts that make someone human.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t a good time for me,” Tom said. “I’m not sure I realized quite how bad it was though. Quite how bad I was.”
Stormy shrugged. “We never do,” he said. “Things are only ever clear looking back. When we’re in it, we’re just busy trying
to get through it. Like this,” he said, nodding to his leg. “This is shit, but I probably won’t realize just how shit until
it’s better. If it gets better,” he said, gazing off into the distance. “Sorry. You’ve caught me on a bad day.”
“That’s okay,” Tom said. “I’m actually hoping I can make your day a bit better.” Tom swallowed, wrapping his hands around
his coffee. He felt his heartbeat quicken, his throat tight. “I sold that photo of you,” he said. “At my exhibition. And the
money’s just come in and well, we had a deal, me and you.”
Stormy locked eyes with Tom, and he couldn’t read them. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but they’d lit up more at the offer of breakfast than they had now. Now they seemed dull. Dark and full of sadness, the way Stormy had described Tom’s eyes as being the last time they’d seen each other.
“I’ve got ten thousand pounds to give you,” Tom said, unsure how to keep going.
Stormy stared straight past Tom, not saying anything. He didn’t move or react in any way. Tom watched for raised eyebrows
or one of his famous toothy grins, but there was nothing. Stillness. Slowly, as Tom kept his gaze on Stormy’s face, the rims
of the man’s eyes filled with tears.
“For me?” he whispered eventually.
Tom nodded. “For you.” He matched his tone. He realized now that Stormy didn’t need some big reveal as though he were a winner
on a game show. That it seemed to only be sinking in, very slowly, bit by bit.
“So I can say I’m a model?” he muttered, a smile now breaking gently across his face.
“I guess you can,” Tom said.
“I don’t . . .” Stormy moved his head, finally meeting Tom’s eye. “I don’t know what to say.”
Tom breathed in, understanding. “You don’t need to say anything,” he replied, realizing he meant it. Had he gone there hoping
for some sort of rapturous response to his act of kindness? Perhaps he had, but he had learned recently that you shouldn’t
have such expectations of people. That you shouldn’t put them on a pedestal, or wish for them to behave in a certain way;
you just loved them, flaws and all.
Stormy finished his sandwich in silence and Tom joined him, sipping on his coffee and trying to allow himself to just .
. . be. He already couldn’t wait to go home and tell Daisy all about it.
To relay it to her as together they traveled to Heathrow and onward to South Korea.
He knew how she’d respond, but still he wanted to relive this moment with her.
He wanted to relive every single one of his moments with her, but with a very healthy dose of alone time, as taught to him by Orlando. Solitude was important too.
All of his questions were gone. How Stormy would spend the money. The first thing he’d do with it. Whether he thought it might
change his life in any way. Tom was sure Stormy was having those thoughts, but also, maybe, he wasn’t, and that was okay.
The one other customer in the café stood up and pulled open the door, leaving just Stormy and Tom alone at the table. Very
slowly Stormy’s shoulders started to shake, his whole body gradually moving with them until he was rocking, a loud barking
laugh breaking free from his mouth as a smile stretched across Tom’s own face and he leaned his head back, staring at the
ceiling, and laughed too. He laughed so hard, just as he had at that laughter retreat Stormy had told him about. He felt the
fizz of joy trickle up through his body, happiness spreading like a stream through his bones the way he’d learned that it
could and together they stayed that way. They stayed, across from each other, shoulders shaking as they laughed for a very,
very long time.