Chapter 11
Ember
If you’d have told me that Henry Cavill was travelling to Bath to profess his undying love for me and whisk me away for a white wedding tonight, I would have believed you more than if you’d have told me that Arthur turned out to be best friends with Poppy’s date, let alone that I’d be on a double datewith him right now.
I completely stopped in my tracks when I came face to face again with his tousled sandy-blonde hair and familiar blue eyes, that same look of fear and uncertainty on his face that he gave me back in the seminar. Considering I grew up among witches, I was definitely not a stranger to the power of nature and spirit. My dad had always said that by learning to channel your magic and nurture the natural elements, the universe would then ‘nurture’ you in return. It’s similar to the idea of manifestation, the idea that the energy you put out there into the world is the energy you get back. To Dad, so long as you continued to nurture for good, whatever the universe then gave you was the very thing you were meant to receive, whether that was good or bad. I’d never really believed in it, to be honest, the idea that the universe would ‘nurture’ you. Even when I was a kid, the idea of coincidences and random occurrences just made more sense. Plus, I had become extremely averted to the concept when I realised that my dad did nothing but nurture his magic for a big chunk of his life, yet the universe turned its back on him. However, as I contemplate over the past few weeks and the sequence of recent events that have taken place to date, I can’t help but think, were these just weird coincidences?
I mean, this was technically the fourth time I’d randomly stumbled upon Arthur. The first being during puke-gate, (which I’d rather not think about considering I’m about to head for more alcoholic beverages), the second being in the lecture, then in the seminar, and now this.
What were the odds? And if this really was the universe trying to nurture me, how? I don’t even practice magic anymore.
Why Arthur? I had so many questions.
Either way, if this was the universe’s strange way of trying to nurture me, I wasn’t going to throw the golden opportunity away. I was going to apologise to Arthur and clear the air once and for all.
◆◆◆
When the bus arrived at the station, in typical British fashion, it had started to lash down and of course, I was dressed entirely inappropriately for the weather. The things we do for fashion. As soon as we hopped off the bus, Poppy and I linked our arms and darted through the high street towards the bar, running as fast as our legs could take us without breaking an ankle. Sam and Arthur jogged behind us, shielding their heads from the rain with their jackets. After a very soggy start to the evening, we finally reach Slug and Lettuce. I’m always in awe of how utterly gorgeous the interior décor is in here. There are pastel pink tub chairs lining the restaurant area, sage green walls plastered in intricate floral prints, ambient deconstructed lights hanging from the ceiling, and situated all over the bar are a ton of motivational neon signs, the ideal backdrop for bougie photos on the gram. It’s also not very busy at all, which I’m not too surprised about considering it’s a Monday night. However, I’m definitely not complaining at the prospect of actually being able to move at the bar without the fear of being crushed to death by a wild pack of drunks.
Poppy and I dart straight for the empty bar, the barman looking miffed that we’ve ruined his perfectly quiet evening. I turn to her, “2 for 1 cocktails?”
Her face crumples up in pure sarcasm, “No I thought we’d just drink tap water tonight…of course we’re doing 2 for 1!”, she whips out her purse and turns towards the barman with a cheesy grin, “2 for 1 Cherry Bakewell’s please. Oh, Sam, Arthur, what do you guys want?”
Just as Poppy goes to hand over her card to the barman, I immediately feel a firm weight at the bar as Sam practically dives on us, “I can pay guys, I said drinks were on me tonight.”
“Don’t be silly!” Poppy says looking at him with bright eyes, “I don’t want you to end up blowing your whole student loan.”
I look at Sam with a grin now, “We ladies can pay for these, just get the next one lover boy.”
Sam gives a defeated laugh and says, “I’m not going to be one of those weird guys who insists that women are incapable of paying for anything, so I’ll accept this time.”
Not a misogynist, check. Pops I approve.
He salutes at us before turning behind him, “Arthur mate, what do you fancy? Might as well get 2-for-1 cocktails, haven’t we?”
Arthur is stood awkwardly, fiddling with his fingers before looking up from the floor, “Uhh- yeah sure- we could have the same I guess.”
I don’t know why, but the level of discomfort on his face just makes me want to give him a reassuring squeeze. Don’t get me wrong, I know he wouldn’t want my pity and I’m not trying to do that whatsoever; I just hate the idea that he appears to be struggling right now. I was always that kid in school who couldn’t bear to see anyone left out of games on the playground, anyone eating lunch by themselves, and especially, anyone who was being bullied. I would always make it my mission to include anyone and everyone. Loneliness is one of the hardest burdens to bear and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, trust me.
“Amazing,” Sam says, “I’m just gonna go and use the men’s, grab a seat guys and I’ll be back.”
Poppy gives him an enthusiastic nod whilst I watch the barman twist and shake the glorious mix of amaretto, prosecco, Cherry Gin Liqueur and Vanilla Syrup. He hands us the finished creations, beautifully topped with whipped cream and a shiny Glacier cherry. I take a sip to stop it spilling as we walk towards the table, and I start to salivate. As tasty as these drinks are, they’re the most brutal because of their deceiving ability to make you think you’re drinking something non-alcoholic. One minute you think you’re drinking a nice Cherry juice, and the next thing you know, you’re on the floor.
I remind myself of my antics from the SU on that fateful night and the headache from hell that I was graced with the following morning and quickly decide, yeah, I think I’ll pace myself tonight.
◆◆◆
“Why do men take so long in the toilets?,” Poppy asks. “what’s he actually doing in there?”
Not going to lie, it had been a slightly awkward 5 minutes sitting at the table with Poppy and Arthur whilst Sam was away doing his business.
“Don’t think you want to know,” I say grinning.
Poppy grimaces, “Don’t even think about elaborating! I want to be able to stomach my drink please.”
I swear I see a ghost of a smile cross Arthur’s face as he looks down at the menu. I can tell he’s not really absorbing any information on there, nor planning on eating anything; he’s using it as a distraction technique to avoid speaking to us but perhaps doesn’t want to seem rude by going on his phone. Most people would probably call him rude, but the more I see him, the more I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. When Sam comes back, I’m sure he’ll feel more at ease.
Sam finally returns to us, hands in his pockets and a swagger in his stride.
“Poppy was beginning to think you’d fallen down the plughole or something,” I say with a smirk. She kicks my leg under the table and gives me a threatening ‘don’t embarrass me’ stare.
Sam spits out a laugh, “Nope, very much not in a plughole don’t worry.”
The first 10 minutes of the date is spent with the standard ‘university script’ questions e.g., what do you guys see yourselves doing when you’ve finished your degree? Are you going to join any societies? Do you have a flatmate from hell? Can you see yourself dropping out? You know, the dreaded list of questions that our family will inevitably ask us when we go home for Christmas. So, we figured to take it upon ourselves to rip the plaster off now.
I think we well and truly made the most of the 2-for-1 cocktail deal as the remainder of the date takes a slightly more tipsy and oversharing turn. It’s not the Redzone kind of tipsy, it’s gentler. The kind that makes your chest feel warm and your throat hum, enough to feel buzzed, but not enough to lose all sense of rationality and dance on the table naked. Sam and Poppy cry with laughter as they relay the fact that they’ve both got bitten by a goat at a farm park as kids, a fact that they’ve already shared more than once this evening. Poppy and I also do shamelessly bitch about Toby and then enlist the opinions of Sam and Arthur as to whether they think Amy and Toby sound like they have sexual tension from what we’ve described, (sorry guys).
Sam and Poppy were now huddling together, whispering in one another’s ears, and cackling manically. I watch them, probably with the soppiest smile of a proud mother, but they just look so happy. It’s really lovely to witness to, be honest, just pure silliness, and the best thing is, I can tell that Poppy is being her 100% true self. It’s the same Poppy that I see every day in the flat, no gimmicks or smoke shows, and that makes me realise that although this is only the first time that I’ve met Sam, he’s a good one.
Their bubble of love is popped when Poppy gestures me to come to the toilet with her, (still not giving Toby the satisfaction of being right). “I’ll be back in a minute,” she says, brushing Sam’s shoulder gently.
When we reach the toilet stall, she turns to me and starts jumping up and down in excitement, “Ah, I really like him!.” I don’t know if it’s the cherry Bakewell’s or I’m running on just pure excitement, but I can’t stop myself from jumping up and down with her.
“I’m so happy for you Pops, you guys look so cute,” I squeal, clutching onto her arms as I bounce.
“Do you think?,” she beams. Before I can answer, she blurts out, “he’s just asked if I want to go to the pub round the corner and have one more drink before we go back, and Ember I don’t want to go home yet. I’m having such a good night. You and Arthur are invited too obviously.”
I grit my teeth, I’ve got a 9 am lecture tomorrow and without the risk of sounding like an 80-year-old, if I don’t go and climb into bed soon, I’m going to become the actual walking dead tomorrow. However, she did ask me to be her wing-woman tonight and that’s a girl code I don’t want to break. I’m supposed to be looking out for her and preventing any funny business, not that I think for one minute that that is what Sam is intending. Life would be so much easier if I could just split myself right down the middle and plop myself in two places at once.
As if she can sense my inner dilemma, she quickly reassures, “Ember don’t feel like you have to come if you don’t want to. I’m a big girl. I promise I’ll be fine.”
I start to rub my palms furiously in my predicament. “Gah-make sure you go back on the bus together andkeep your locationon just in case you get separated. I’d say text me when you get home, but I have a feeling I’m going to be out for the count as soon as my head reaches the pillow.”
Poppy wraps her arms around me in a massive hug, “yes mum,” she says into my hair.
We both link arms as we leave the toilets and walk towards the guys. Sam looks up at us from the tub chair, “ready to go?”
“I think I’m going to head b-”
“Sorry I think I’m going to go ho-”
Arthur and I say at the same time.
He locks eyes with me awkwardly before Sam says, “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“Yeah, I’m a bit knackered, to be honest sorry,” Arthur responds.
Sam gives him a reassuring smile, “No worries, I’ll see you back at the flat yeah?”
He nods.
Sam gives Poppy his jacket and helps to perch her bag over her shoulder, (don’t mind me whilst I swoon), and on his way out says, “nice to meet you, Ember. Hopefully see you again soon.”
I grin and look between him and Poppy, “I’d say don’t be a stranger, but looking at you two, I don’t think you’re going to be one.” They both leave the bar, hand in hand, leaving just me and Arthur.
He shifts uncomfortably, diverting his eyes towards the door, “Um- I should probably get going, it was uh-good to meet you…again.”
He hadn’t contributed to the conversation a whole lot during the evening, I can tell that Sam very much begged him to come, just as Poppy had with me. I’d kept smiling at him whenever I told a story, so he knew he was involved. I even left ample pauses for him to try and encourage him to join in, but he tended to direct any little conversation that he did have to just Sam. He puts his coat on now, but before he can make it as far as the front door, I decide I’m not giving up that easily. If our flatmates are going to be an item, it likely means we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other. We’re also not going to be able to hold off working together on this presentation, we will have to spend time with each other soon in our module, so I needed to try harder.
As he opens the front door, I speed walk to catch up with him. I didn’t want to scare him off, so I needed to be tactful in my approach. “Sorry Arthur- do you know which bus you’re getting home? My app isn’t loading, and I want to know whether I need to bolt it down to the bus stop or not.”
Eyebrows raised, he turns to face me, “Uh-I think I’m getting the 22:35? You’ve got 10 minutes so you should be fine”. He’s actively talking to me, I’ll take it.
I test the water and start walking next to him now, “do you mind if I walk with you? It’s just that it’s dark tonight and I don’t want to have to do a full-on Ellen Ripley on any potential murderers,” I huff out a laugh.
Did I seriously just make an Alien reference? Way to go at being cool and collected Ember.
I swear I watched his whole demeanour change at that moment. His shoulders slump down and is that a flicker of a smile I see cross his face? He looks visibly more comfortable.
His eyes fix on mine, and although I can see a slight hesitation before he speaks, he eventually replies with a small grin, “Well, I don’t think you need to worry about any xenomorphs, but I’m sure there are some weirdos lurking about a whole lot worse than them, so go ahead.” He gestures for me to walk next to him and I’m a little gobsmacked.
I didn’t think that making something as obscure as an Alien reference would be the catalyst for finally breaking the strange barrier that’s had Arthur and I in a chokehold, but here we are.
I’m not ready to go back to radio silence so I let out a laugh and respond, “Honestly, I swear xenomorphs would be easier to fend off!”
He smiles at the ground, “Apart from the whole acidic blood thing if you get too close, but you know, beggars can’t be choosers I guess.”
I chuckle as we continue to stroll down the street. It’s thankfully stopped lashing it down now, meaning I can actually enjoy and embrace my current surroundings. If you thought it was beautiful in the day, Bath is an absolute treat at night. The streets are lined with exuberant restaurants with plenty of opportunities for people-watching through the windows as couples happily wine and dine over candlelight, there are large trees bathed in golden string lights and just to add to the ambience even further, you can somehow always hear the faint sound of the serene waterfalls of Pulteney Bridge, no matter where you are in the city. As we head nearer to the bus stop, Arthur and I mock feigned offence over the fact that Sam thinks ET and Alien are practically the same films, whilst I rant about how Poppy doesn’t believe in aliens. I can’t quite believe that in a matter of 10 minutes, I’ve made a breakthrough. If I’d known that sci-fi was the secret ingredient, I would have whipped out my knowledge of all things Alien, much sooner.
Luckily, the U5 bus is parked up in the bay when we arrive, so there is no having to wait in the glorious sub-zero temperatures of the British October. The bus driver scans our tickets on our phones and we make a run for the top deck. There’s no one else on the bottom one, but everybody knows that the top deck is elite, I don’t make the rules. I fully expect Arthur to move into the row next to me, but I’m pleasantly surprised when he decides to take the seat directly next to mine. We both sit quietly for a few moments, and I begin to worry that the conversation has shrivelled up like a prune.
“So uhm-,” Arthur says, turning his body towards mine but looking over at the window behind me, “I feel like I should probably address the elephant in the room.”
I have a good idea of what he’s going to say and as much as I desperately want to interrupt and say my piece, I want to give him the space to say what he needs to say, I mean this is progress after all. I give him a reassuring look, trying my best to indicate that it’s safe for him to continue.
“About earlier today,” he clears his throat and takes a breath, “I’m sorry for being a dick.” I’m surprised to hear him swear, it almost feels foreign coming out of his mouth.
I adjust on my seat, prepared to respond before he shakes his head as if to stop me. “I was out of line. I shouldn’t have acted so weirdly towards you in that lecture and I definitely shouldn’t have walked out without saying anything to you during the seminar. I was just uhm,” guilt washes over his face now, “anxious.”
I know that he’s tried to spare me the embarrassment by brushing over that night, but I feel its taken a lot for him to say what he just said, it’s only fair that I clear the air now. I turn my body to face him, “If there’s anyone who should be apologising, it’s me.” I don’t know how to address it without making him uncomfortable, but it needs to be said, “I know that you know that it was me that night during freshers.” I can sense his discomfort at my abruptness, so I quickly clarify, “It’s okay, I don’t blame you for not wanting to bring it up. Not that I’m trying to make excuses, but I didn’t remember anything from that night. It wasn’t until the next morning when I had the hangover from hell that my flatmates told me I’d puked over someone.”
He’s still looking sheepish and I’m growing increasingly aware that we’re only about 5 minutes from my stop, so I need to fully explain myself. “I had no idea who it was. When I first saw you in that lecture, I genuinely had no idea that it was you, otherwise of course, I would have apologised sooner. It wasn’t until I was walking across campus earlier that I spotted you revising and Poppy and my other flatmate Amy, instantly recognised you and told me that you were the unlucky recipient of puke-gate,” I breathe out a small laugh, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. “Either way, I’m so sorry for any distress or annoyance I might have caused you that night.” I thought it was best not to mention that Poppy and Amy also saw him run away to the toilets in front of a large crowd, I’m sure he doesn’t need me to rehash that memory for him.
“I hope I didn’t ruin any of your clothes, I can pay you back for any laundry you had to do, I don’t mind at all,” I say whilst opening my purse and scrabbling for coins.
Arthur shakes his head and pulls on the fabric of his jacket, showing me it’s very much pristine state. If he won’t accept my money, I need him to at least accept a truce. I put out a hand, “If it’s something you’re okay with, can we please start again?”
He looks down at my hand, up at my face, and then back down at my hand again before taking it and giving it a firm shake. “Hi, I’m Arthur, and you are?,” he says with a knowing smile.
I feel a sense of immediate relief course through me, “Nice to meet you Arthur, I’m Ember.”
“Like the lump of hot coal?,” he teases with mock confusion.
Someone was paying attention during the icebreaker session then.
“That’s the one,” I smile.
Our brief reintroductions remain exactly that as the bus pulls up at Charlton Court. I swear I see his smile falter as he looks out the window and realises where we are. I lurch my bag over my body and squeeze by Arthur as he reluctantly moves over to let me get off the bus. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in the next seminar then,” I say turning over my shoulder.
“Sounds good,” Arthur replies, his hands in his pockets.
I head off the warm bus, back into the blast of the cold Autumn air and I can’t help but turn around and see if he’s still watching. Much to my surprise, I see him through the window staring right back at me inquisitively, like he wasn’t expecting me to turn back. He lifts his hand and gives me a shy wave as the bus pulls off and I can’t help but wonder, why do I suddenly not want this night to end?