Even removing the prospect of spending Christmas withTom Brinton, the thought of snuggling up on Jo’s soft sofa with Chippie to stroke, a steady stream of cuppas and cheesy films sounded like a pretty lovely plan in and of itself.
‘Ha, you’re probably right. Go on, then. I must admit it does sound more appealing than getting woken up at dawn on Christmas morning by the relentless bouncing of the toddler in the flat upstairs.’
He tugged his fist downwards in an ironic celebratory gesture.
‘Whoop!’ He was smiling widely.
The taxi revved its engine as an unsubtle signal to hurry the fuck up.
‘Of course, it’s not a problem if you change your mind.’ He turned to the taxi and pleadingly held up his forefinger to indicate he just needed one more minute. ‘Hey, would you be up for me swinging by after work tomorrow? It’s the last day in the office until the new year so I reckon I should be done by four, if that’s enough time for you to finish your article?’
Woah, he was talking about havingmultipledates in the coming days, which would be a new personal best for me.
‘Yeah, that’d be nice. And a deadline would also be really helpful for me to get the damn thing done.’
‘Awesome. And I can finally hang that curtain back up. But, umm, as much as this place has its… charms… maybe we could head over to mine once that’s done? I could fire up the log burner and we could get a takeaway or something? Or we could go to the cinema, or a pub for dinner? Totally your call.’
I had sudden visions of legs entwined underneath a fireside blanket. Idefinitelyought to shave my legs. I cleared my throat and shook the thought out of my head before responding.
‘The takeaway plan sounds perfect. And, in all honesty, I could probably do with a night off the booze, too.’
‘Yeah, same. Okay, well, thanks again for helping me out tonight. It was a lot of fun.’
‘It was.’
Tom gazed down at me, my eyes level with his surprisingly delicate neck. I was close enough to him to notice a tiny dot on his left earlobe, where a small, gold stud used to reside back in our school days. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed while placing his hands lightly on my shoulders. A sudden gust of wind caught my hair and smothered my entire face in it. Typical. I secured half of it behind one ear with one hand, while Tom simultaneously did the same on the other.
‘Were you always this small?’ he murmured, as he slowly stooped down to close the height gap between us.
I whispered, ‘No, I shrank,’ in response and was about to close my eyes in anticipation of contact… when the taxi honked its horn for at least three seconds to indicate the driver’s patience had finally expired, jolting both of us apart.
‘Ha. Here’s to trying – and failing.’
Those words were always associated with embarrassment and a clammy-gripped microphone, because they were the words I’d uttered when I’d accepted my PE effort award all those years ago. Was it a coincidence, or had he remembered? Somehow, Tom knew what I was thinking.
‘Effort’s underrated, Mal.’ My entire face became a grin. His did the same as he lightly squeezed my hand and locked eyes with me.
‘Tomorrow,’ he said.
I nodded once. My hair was now blowing in every single direction again.
‘Yeah, tomorrow. Night, Tom.’
‘Night, Mally.’
Just before he got into the taxi, he turned to me and roared, surprisingly loudly.
I made aWTFgesture with my hands to indicate an explanation for the random noise was required.
He lowered the window and stuck his head out of it as the car sped off. ‘Aslan!’
Funny. Attractive. Smart. Well-read. Kind. Generous. Modest. Credit where credit was due: teenage Mally had had bloody good taste. I let myself in and closed the door softly behind me, leaning on the inside in a way that I’d seen countless female protagonists do in all those made-for-TV movies.
I wanted to send a message to the fifteen-year-old version of me and tell her that TOM BRINTON FANCIED HER and that she just had to wait a quarter of a century or so for the stars to align.
I probably wouldn’t tell her about the shitload of pain in between.
I sighed with a mixture of contentment and emotional exhaustion as I kicked off my boots and shimmied out of my coat. Mine and Tom’s first kiss hadn’t happened tonight, but I knew that it’d happen tomorrow – I’d never been surer about anything in my life.
