Chapter Forty-Eight
It was a month after I’d started my new job, and I was working in the office one afternoon, the window open to the sound of birdsong, answering a message from my estate agent, Amy.
I’d been doing a mix of remote and in-office working – commuting to Hertfordshire for the purpose.
Having put the flat on the market, Amy had carried out a viewing that day with some prospective buyers.
AMY: Hi Lizzy! The viewing went great, waiting to hear their thoughts.
Just one small thing! Is there any chance you could pop your cat away when I’m doing a sole viewing?
She was clawing your poor sofa! And she flipped her food bowl, so the clients were slipping on the food!
Also, she doesn’t seem to like me very much, which is weird, because usually cats love me.
I snorted with laughter and felt immediately guilty. Poor, poor Amy. But the idea of imprisoning Pebble for the purpose of a ten-minute viewing wasn’t really fair to my cat when I was out all day. I carefully composed an apologetic message.
LIZZY: So, so sorry Amy. Pebble does seem to know when there’s going to be a viewing and she does attempt to make as much mess as possible.
I am working from home three days next week, let’s try and schedule all the viewings for when I’m there, so I can keep things tidy and pop her into her carrier when you arrive.
‘Night, Lizzy!’ My assistant, Xavier, waved at me as he passed my office door. ‘Thanks so much for letting me be part of the content planning meeting today.’
‘It’s no problem,’ I said, smiling. ‘Have a good evening.’
I looked down at my lap: my cheerful, fuchsia-coloured nails; my floral maxi-dress, a little experiment in not wearing black.
In the last few weeks, I’d felt lighter than I had in years; noticed myself smiling for no reason.
I took a sip of my raspberry tea and reopened the document I was working on.
My phone buzzed. My gaze flicked to it, thinking I’d see another message from Amy, but instead…
OLLY: Lizzy Brinks. It’s your opposite number here. Are you still out there?
My breath caught; I couldn’t help the smile that unfurled itself across my face.
LIZZY: Depends who’s asking.
OLLY: Sensible, very sensible. Let the right one in, etc.
LIZZY: So what are you here for, Mr MacLeod?
OLLY: I guess I couldn’t stay away.
…
I counted my breaths, watching as he typed.
OLLY: That might be the 250th message I’ve typed, only this one, I sent.
…
OLLY: I wanted to see how you are. Correction: I want to see how you are. Present tense.
LIZZY: What a coincidence, I thought about contacting you, too.
OLLY: Don’t flirt so hard, it’s too much for me.
I laughed out loud.
OLLY: Have you forgiven me for doubting you in Venice?
I typed the response without hesitation.
LIZZY: Yes. It was a mad time. Have you forgiven me for threatening to block you?
OLLY: There’s nothing to forgive.
LIZZY: Meet me.
OLLY: Meet me.
LIZZY: It seems our messages crossed each other.
OLLY: We always were on the same wavelength.
I sat back in my chair, pressing my palms to my face, against the blush working its way across my cheeks.
We met at the ticket gate of a London garden on a day of sunshine and showers, Olly smiling at me as he watched me walking towards him.
He was dressed in a white linen shirt and grey linen trousers, sunglasses set back on his head, almost like we’d planned to match our outfits, because I was wearing a white, collared halterneck jumpsuit with sandals, my hair roughly tied up, and just a touch of make-up.
Two weekenders, come for a walk. When I saw him, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, my grin stretching ridiculously broad across my face.
He looked gloriously relaxed, tanned from more access to sunshine, I presumed. Glory be, that collarbone.
I stopped a foot from him and smiled up at him, not sure what to say. Hoping that, when we spoke, the spell wouldn’t be broken.
‘Look at you,’ he said, his voice soft, but the smile on his face plain and joyful for me to see. ‘Out of mourning, bonnie lass. You’re too beautiful.’
‘Hi hi hi,’ I said, trying to keep the nerves out of my voice, and failing. ‘You look pretty good out of the suit, too. Look at us, all casual.’
He kissed me on the cheek and I felt a twinge of disappointment, because frankly at the sight of him, even from the end of the road, I’d wanted to run hard into his arms, but I could see the uncertainty in his face and knew it was very like him not to go steaming in there. We were just ex-colleagues, right?
‘It’s muddy in there,’ he said, looking at my outfit. ‘We should probably stick to the paths. No off-road wandering.’
I opened my cloth shoulder bag to reveal ankle-length wellies. ‘I brought these as a precaution.’
‘Nice.’ The smile twinkled in his eyes. ‘Are you an outdoorswoman now?’
I shook my head. ‘All the gear, no idea.’
He laughed, and my heart stopped clean in my chest. I had known I wanted to see him. But the sound of his laugh really was the best sound in the world. Standing there, a metre from him, my feelings for him were so intense, like high definition after watching a black and white film.
‘No need to pay,’ I said, as we approached the turnstiles, and I saw him reaching for his wallet.
He looked at me, questioningly.
‘I work here,’ I said. ‘Or rather, for the organisation as a whole.’
His gaze held mine in a way that made me feel dizzy. ‘Elizabeth. Aren’t you full of surprises?’
‘Funny, that’s what Esme said when I gently explained to her she was full of shit.’
Grinning, he shook his head. ‘I have so many questions.’
Smiling too, I turned away, walking ahead to speak to the person staffing the ticket counter, and show them my work ID.
I took some deep breaths as we walked into the gardens.
Hold back, I told myself, but my heart was fit to burst. I cautioned myself, allowing my catastrophic inner voice free rein, saying things like, He’s probably here to tell you he’s engaged to Amber!
Maybe you’ll be asked to be best woman at the wedding!
Anything to stop me from confessing that I missed him so much it physically hurt.
‘Want to know if I’ve managed to keep a plant alive?’ I teased, keeping it light as he moved forward to walk alongside me.
‘Mmmm, well, your herbs were a bit do these dry bones live,’ he said. ‘Have you?’
‘Yes!’ I shouted, and he laughed again, reaching for my hand. We locked fingers.
‘There’s another serendipitous reason why it’s good we’re meeting in a garden,’ he said. ‘I realised, after some consideration, the moment when I fell in love with you, and it involved flowers.’
I stopped dead, turned and stared at him, gobsmacked.
‘When you ploughed through the lilies at that first press conference,’ he said, looking anywhere but at my face. ‘Obviously.’
‘Obviously,’ I said. ‘Although, you said it was the kiss? Or the blush? Not that I’m being pernickety…’
‘Oh, that,’ he said. ‘No, that was when I fell in lust with you. Related, but different.’
He tugged at my hand and we continued walking, apparently jointly agreeing to ignore what he’d said, my heart thudding in my chest. We found a map, and decided just to meander.
As we walked, I told him about my departure from EKArts.
Finally, near a small lake, we stood and looked at the water together as more clouds gathered overhead.
‘You should know,’ said Olly, ‘I’m on gardening leave, and have been for some time.’
I did a double take. ‘Ajax fired you?’
He laughed. ‘Easy, easy, obviously we’re not calling it that. Because there are no grounds. But it turns out the caviared scrote “didn’t think I was sufficiently committed to Chroma”. I left a month after you.’
I swallowed hard. ‘Do you have another job lined up?’
‘Of course. I’m working for better people. Less moneyed ones. I’ve finally learned my lesson.’ He put on a cartoony voice. ‘The moral of the story is, millionaires can’t wuv you back.’
I belly laughed; so did he. And the feeling, of laughing with Olly, I can’t tell you what an immense relief it was. Like arriving home after a long journey. ‘I need to say,’ I said, finally catching my breath, ‘I have missed this so much.’ When what I meant was, I’ve missed you so much.
He put his hands to my waist, gently pulling me towards him.
‘You’ve got no idea,’ he said. He pressed his mouth to my lips, then my neck, and I couldn’t stop the sigh of joy that escaped me.
When he spoke, it was without looking at me, his face nuzzling my hair.
‘I was convinced you didn’t want anything to do with me.
I wanted to respect your decision. So I did everything I could to try and forget you. ’
I reared back, comically. ‘Not the dating apps?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Not the fucking dating apps. Think box sets, gym sessions.’ He leaned close, playfully whispered ‘hypnotism’, and I sniggered. ‘Then, when Jacob finally told me, last week…’
‘Oh Jacob,’ I laughed. ‘He came to see me ages ago!’
‘He finally broke.’ He held me back from him, held my gaze with his divine brown eyes. ‘Thank God. And he said there might be some hope. I don’t want to put pressure on you, beloved commitmentphobe,’ he said roughly. ‘But can we give it a go?’
‘I mean, yes, totally,’ I said, trying to sound anything other than desperate, and failing. ‘Go, go, go.’
‘Go, go, go,’ he echoed, a smile stretching across his face, the quality of it making my heart ache with joy.
‘You’d better be going to kiss me,’ I said, ‘otherwise I’m going to—’
I never got to say ‘implode’, because he very definitely kissed me, his mouth clashing with mine as we caught each other’s rhythm, greedy for each other.
A breathless, melting, altogether almost indecent kiss, which took me back to Venice but also pushed fast forward on all the impulses I had to climb into his lap and do more than kiss.
I think a passerby may have wolf-whistled, but I didn’t care.
When we parted I mentally congratulated myself for still standing upright.
‘Just checking,’ he said, pushing my hair away from my eyes, fixing his own dark eyes on mine in a way that turned my body into a melting mess.
‘Checking what?’ I managed.
‘That you have the most perfect kiss I’ve ever experienced,’ he said.
‘I think it’s a combination of the both of us,’ I said. ‘So technically, we have the most perfect kiss.’
‘I think it’s down to you.’
I batted him on the arm, but the truth was I could hardly breathe with the happiness I felt. Luckily it started to rain, so I gathered myself and we found a bench sheltered by trees, where we huddled together.
‘Why didn’t you want to meet when I messaged you first?’ he said, as I nestled against him. ‘Were you still angry with me?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘We were still colleagues. It was messy. And I thought you had detached yourself from me, that you were trying to act professional. You used the word “reconnect” for goodness’ sake.’
‘Lizzy, in my world, “can we reconnect” is practically a marriage proposal,’ he said.
My heart flipped and I ignored it. ‘Can I get a translation app for “your world”?’ I said. ‘So something like “can I get you a cup of tea” means, “you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen”.’
‘And “would you like to borrow my umbrella” means “can I…” ’ He leant over and whispered something that made me choke with laughter and blush a deep crimson.
‘We may need to get a room for that.’
He nodded, the smile fading a little. ‘I’m sorry I got it wrong. I’ve missed you so much. I felt so strange without seeing you every day.’
‘Me too.’ I gave him my hand and he took it in both of his, carefully, gently.
The rain stopped, as suddenly as it had started.
‘Okay, can I ask, what are you planning to do in the next few months?’ he said. ‘Apart from changing your phone number the moment you get home.’
‘Sell my flat. Make Pebble furious by putting her in a cat carrier. Find a flat somewhere green and clean, near my family.’
I saw him take this in, digest it. ‘Can you do me a favour?’
‘Depends what it is,’ I said cheerfully, when what I thought was yes, absolutely anything.
‘Make it easy to get to from London,’ he said, holding my gaze steadily, my heartbeat drumming in response to his softened gaze.
‘I was already planning to,’ I said. Trying to push back all my joyous imaginings, like: me getting up from my desk to see him arriving from London to spend an evening together, cooking together, drinking wine, laughing, going to bed.
‘And maybe,’ he said, ‘your new place could be more comfortable for you. I see you in a cottage. Little garden, crammed with sweet peas and roses. Now that you have the gear. You know, sweet, fragrant.’
‘Sounds great. But I’m on a budget, and that sounds expensive.’
‘Well, maybe there’s something we can do about that,’ he said mildly. ‘Just as a matter of convenience, we could – get that cottage together?’
I stared at him.
‘Too much,’ he said. ‘Breathe, Lizzy. I take it back, if you want me to, but don’t, if you don’t want me to.’
I considered my poor, cautious, frozen little heart, which was now bursting with joy. ‘I think we may need to sit down at the tearoom and discuss future plans,’ I said.
‘They do champagne, right?’ he said. ‘I definitely feel like celebrating.’
I laughed. ‘I’m not sure they stretch to champagne.’
‘Maybe we can raise a scone to each other, then.’ His expression was bright. ‘As long as I’m with you.’
Warmed by the look in his eyes, I looked up at the break in the clouds, the glimpse of blue sky and bright summer sunshine emerging after the rain. ‘To the tearoom, then,’ I said, my hand in his, my heart floating up to the sky like an untethered balloon.
‘You’re the boss, Lizzy Brinks,’ he said.