Chapter 37
When we arrive back at our destination, the man in the lobster shirt is nowhere to be seen. In fact, nobody is. The meeting room table looks abandoned, a few drinks left half-consumed dotted around the edges.
A nasty voice somewhere deep inside me whispers: you were too slow, you’re too late.
Hennie speaks first, blurting an outraged, ‘What the hell?’
My eyebrows knit together. ‘Why do I get the feeling we just lost?’
‘Hey, don’t lose hope just yet,’ Owen murmurs.
‘Yeah, maybe he just went for a bathroom break,’ Josh adds. He kicks the ground beneath him before taking a seat at the oversized table, throwing himself into it with a sigh. The others follow suit, leaving just Elliot and I standing.
We exchange a brief glance, charged with a mutual apprehension. If we don’t win, everything since Queen Ego on Friday has all been for nothing. The hand that is clutching my post-it shakes, and I cross my arms tightly to try to quell it.
Elliot’s eyes flick down to my hand and back up again, as if he’d looked at something he wasn’t supposed to. Like he’s somehow aware of its significance.
I mentally scold myself, realising how easy it would have been to play it off as someone else’s, if I just hadn’t been so cagey about it.
Hennie must sense my unease and hops up from her seat.
‘We might still have a chance,’ she murmurs.
‘I don’t know,’ I reply with a grim smile. ‘I have a weird feeling this might be over.’
She nudges her hand against my own, the one containing my post-it. ‘What does it say?’ she whispers.
I unfold it in silence, holding it out for her to read. I hold no qualms about showing Hennie.
Her eyes soften as she reads it. ‘What song?’
‘“Between You and Me”,’ I say, tucking the post-it safely in my pocket.
She nods, comprehension flooding her features.
‘Between You and Me’ is sang from the perspective of somebody confessing their feelings for a person they can’t have, for whatever reason.
So, instead of wishing for that specific person, they hope to meet someone just like them.
It’s an acoustic song with a simple melody and lyrics that scream with longing.
Until this weekend, I had never really identified with it.
‘We’ll talk about it later,’ she whispers so quietly I only just hear her. I can only nod in response.
We mostly wait in silence, with Josh breaking it several times to hypothesise where the ‘real’ Ransom might be; hazarding guesses that it’s possibly underground, below our feet this entire time. And a handful more to initiate games of I Spy with each of us.
‘I’m really sorry this is taking so long, guys,’ I address the boys after what feels like hours. ‘I think the fight might be over at this point, you should all go and enjoy your last evening of the festival.’
Owen reclines in his chair, leaning all the way back with his hands laced together over his chest. ‘There’s no way we’re leaving now,’ he says, his face lit with a confused grin.
‘Yeah, doll,’ Josh agrees. ‘With respect, I need to know how this ends. Leaving now would be terribly untimely.’
A part of me already knows how this is going to end. And I have no choice but to watch it play out in slow motion.
Elliot says nothing, but I feel his cool gaze on me as I go to lean on the edge of the table and check my watch for the thousandth time, my heart sinking lower and lower.
After another game of I Spy, Hennie is the first to notice when the lobster man finally steps back into the room.
I’m the first up and the boys follow suit, immediately leaping out of their chairs. I fly over to him with the others closely in tow, offering the post-it to him. My hand shakes.
‘We’ve got one,’ I announce.
An apologetic smile reaches his lips as he looks down at it, and I feel my face fall.
‘Sorry kids, I’m afraid the winners got to the prize just before you. You were incredibly close!’ he says with a smile, as if this might be a good thing, and not a completely horrible, heartbreaking thing.
‘Right,’ I murmur.
And then… I wait. I wait for the devastation to hit me. I wonder if the disappointment will meet my body in waves. Or if it will hit all at once and bring me to my knees.
I keep waiting. But there is just a glimmer, rather than an implosion. Sure, a vague sense of a lost opportunity and sadness that something I’ve craved so badly has slipped through my fingers. Mostly the fact that we were so, so close.
My gaze slides to my shoes. I can only guess that my lack of extreme reaction is due to my complete and utter exhaustion. Which in itself is possibly a side effect of constant Elliot-induced disorientation.
‘Thanks for the update,’ Owen says, in a voice I’ve never heard from him before. Dull with a little flourish of ice.
A steadying hand grips my shoulder. Assuming it’s Hennie’s, I put my hand tightly over it.
But it feels much too large to be Hennie’s. Which alerts me to the fact that it’s probably Elliot’s hand, and I am definitely holding onto it like it’s keeping attached me to the earth.
‘Yes… we posted the update on all Queen Ego’s feeds just now, it’s unfortunate you didn’t see it.
I’m sorry about that. But thank you for taking part!
Lots of fun!’ he replies, his eyes sliding over me more than once, possibly picking up on my dashed hopes most of all.
‘There’ll be another contest on social media soon as well to win some merch!
You just need to sign up for our newsletter. ’
I let go of Elliot’s hand.
‘Yeah,’ I say with a tight smile. ‘I’ve done that. Thanks, though.’
Hennie mutters, ‘A decade ago,’ under her breath, and I feel her arm go around my shoulders as I turn to leave.
‘I’m sorry, honey,’ she says gently.
‘Well. At least we tried,’ I reply, my voice lifeless.
‘I can’t believe we got so close,’ she whispers with frustration. ‘I’d kill that man to avenge you, but I don’t have my best knives.’
Something eases in my chest, making me chuckle. I loop my arm around her and head towards the corner exit of Ransom. I hear the boys muttering behind us, but can’t make out any words.
I mentally wave goodbye to the bizarre, distant version of myself that got to meet Queen Ego, leaving her amongst the post-its and the strange, shadowy corners of Ransom.
‘Oh, Nora,’ I hear Owen call from behind me. ‘Don’t you want to put that post-it back?’
I freeze mid-step. I had completely forgotten it in my pocket, leaving myself no choice but to walk back around the boys. I feel a familiar cool gaze follow me as I make my way back to one of the corridors covered in notes, and slow when I hear steps behind me.
I don’t need to look to know who it is.
‘I’m sorry we didn’t win,’ he says quietly. I turn to take him in, his features lit under the peculiar, warm lights.
I smile bitterly, reaching for my post-it in my pocket. ‘That’s okay. I’m sorry you didn’t win either. For Max.’
‘Well, what he never knows won’t hurt him.’
I hum in agreement and politely wait for him to leave.
He stands patiently with his hands in his pockets. I lift my eyebrows and watch as his lip curls ever so slightly.
‘What are you doing?’ I deadpan.
‘Waiting for you to return the post-it so we can leave,’ he says mildly.
I clench my jaw. ‘I thought it was clear at this point that the post-it in question is mine and I would… prefer if you didn’t see it.’
‘Oh.’ He nods with a carefully concealed smile.
‘I’ll be two seconds, at least turn around or something.’
His eyes never leave mine, dark and curious. ‘Didn’t you say the song it related to was “Between You and Me”?’
I swear that the floor actually sways beneath me. He fucking heard me. Dammit.
I open my mouth to speak, and for a second nothing comes out.
‘I – uh… so?’
A groundbreaking response. That will potentially haunt me forever.
‘It’s rude to eavesdrop, by the way,’ I add with a glare.
He obviously doesn’t apologise; he just nods again and cracks a smile. What a weird reaction.
‘Alright, I’ll leave you to it.’
He leaves me standing with my post-it in hand, staring after him in bewilderment. I’m not sure why I’m so sad to be saying goodbye to him when all he does is send my brain into infinite, dizzying tailspins.
I slam it onto the wall, admiring the words I’d written just for me. Having it on display – so out in the open – means it doesn’t feel like so much like a wistful secret anymore. More of a wish hidden in plain sight.
The bittersweet truth that Firecrest is drawing to a close hits me, and Elliot and I’s farewell hangs over me more heavily than ever. I let myself enjoy the knowledge that the drumstick is in my possession for these last moments before we decide its fate.
As I make to leave, I give my post-it one last pensive glance. I feel my lips slope into a smile, letting the words harden and become something solid and true:
I want someone like him