I blink anxiously. Do I? Yes, maybe I do. I want it to look like I have friends, and am not just some creep, alone at this party following him around. I nod decisively. ‘Yes, please come with me.’
The four of us walk in a huddle – Jemma lolling in and out of our group – across the room, until we’re a mere few feet away from Milo. He’s waiting at the bar to order a drink and I wonder for a moment whether he will sense I’m here.
Milo, I whisper silently at him.Turn around, Milo Samuels, and see me standing here.
He doesn’t, but I try not to see it as a sign.
‘Go buy us a round,’ Harry urges, downing his gin, ‘and then, y’know,happento notice him there, too.’ He pauses to finish the drink he just bought. ‘But also do genuinely buy us a round. I want another G&T, please.’
‘Me too,’ Jemma says. She leans into Harry and he circles an arm around her, keeping her steady. I feel a catch in my chest. It’s not jealousy or anything – it’s excitement actually. I’m excited that she’s touching him, that they’re touching each other. Tonight is the night they’re going to realize their feelings for each other and embark on something special, ending in a wedding where I will be maid of honour. The note writer be damned!
I make my way to the bar, as casually as I can. Propping myself up, I clear my throat forcefully. ‘Er, HARRY?’ I say loudly over my shoulder. ‘WHAT DID YOU SAY YOUWANTED AGAIN, MATE?’ He looks at me perplexed, but it works. When I turn back to the bar, Milo is looking at me.
‘Oh!’ he says. ‘It’s you! Um…’ He snaps his fingers, trying to remember, and I squint at him exaggeratedly, as if I haven’t got a clue. His face clears. ‘Clara! Right? Is it Clara? Or Clare? We met at the food festival thingy last week?’ I shrug, shaking my head like I don’t know and he laughs awkwardly. ‘Remember? You fell over – I pretty much knocked you over.’ He grimaces. ‘Sorry again about that. And then you couldn’t remember anything.’ He pauses, examining my face. ‘Are you all better now? No more… anaemia?’
I nod suddenly. ‘Oh right! Yes, of course! I vaguely recall the incident now. I am indeed Clara. Clara Poyntz. And you’re… Miles, was it? Miller? Milly? Milepost? Military? Mileage—’
Behind me, I hear Jemma mutter, ‘Those aren’t names,’ but Milo looks amused.
‘Milo Samuels,’ he corrects, offering a hand. ‘Pleased to meet you properly, Clara Poyntz.’
‘You too,’ I say, chilled as you like.
I am determined that this time he will see me as a grown-up. Last time I was a silly little girl with a bonked head. This time he has to see me as an equal. A cool, enigmatic, mature woman, capable of keeping it together should I suddenly have reason to enter his celebrity world. I want him to see sharp edges like Angelina Jolie, a razor wit like Emma Stone’s, a dark streak like Megan Fox. He could date any one of those celebrities, I have to be cooler than any of them.
‘So you’re all better?’ he asks nicely. ‘No more memory issues?’ It might be my imagination but there is a hint of teasing in his voice.
I shrug. ‘Weeeeell, y’know how it is, Milo. I live a hard life and I’ve had long covid for two years.’ I pause. ‘That or I’m just tired a lot. I’m not sure.’
‘Uh-huh,’ he says agreeably. ‘That is… difficult.’
‘Can I get you a drink, Milo?’ I say breezily. ‘I’m having a, er, whisky sour’ – this is the coolest drink I can think of – ‘and I’m getting a round in for my mates here because I’m incredibly generous.’
Behind me, I hear Jemma spit out a laugh and Milo turns to the group. ‘Oh, are these your friends?’ He smiles widely. ‘Hi, everyone, I’m Milo.’ He clocks Harry and waves an acknowledgement that they’ve met. Harry giggles with girlish delight at being recognized, unable to speak. Milo fills in the silence. ‘Hey, everyone, let me get this round, what are you all having?’
Salma and Harry excitedly bluster a thank you, throwing drink orders at Milo, who beams back at them. He turns to Jemma, who is glowering sullenly at him. ‘And what would you like? Sorry, what’s your name?’
‘I’m Jemma,’ she says, ‘and I don’t want a drink fromyou.’
‘Jemma!’ I gasp, horrified, and turning to Milo, I say, ‘God, sorry about her. She’s a bit drunk.’
‘I’m not drunk!’ She sounds outraged, trying and failing to defiantly put her hands on her hips. ‘OK, Iamdrunk – extremely drunk actually – but that’s not the point.’
‘What is the point?’ Milo looks genuinely interested.
‘YOU!’ Jemma half-yells to a startled Milo. ‘You are the point! You’ve ruined my favourite book.’
He frowns. ‘I’ve… huh? How have I ruined it?’
Jemma shakes her head – actually,slumps it around her shouldersmight be more accurate. ‘Y’know, with your… making it into a TV thing thingy. You took the most beautiful, most important thing to me and you’ve…’ she waves her hands trying to demonstrate her elusive point, ‘…ruinedit!’
Harry makes an apologetic face at Milo. ‘Don’t be offended, mate.Too Good to Be Trueis her favourite novel, she’s been reading it since she was little.’
At this, Milo looks a little sad and I feel a wave of anger at Jemma. She’s being totally mad – the TV show is brilliant and Milo is the best actor in the universe. How can she be so mean to him? Doesn’t she understand this is her future brother-in-law?
‘Don’t listen to her,’ I say earnestly. ‘We all love the show, honestly.’
Harry and Salma nod. ‘We do actually,’ Harry interjects as Salma adds, ‘And for all her noise, Jemma here has watched some of it, too, so she can’t hate it that much.’
