Page 63 of Out of Control

She wanted to say yes but she didn’t want him to feel humiliated or awkward asking for something different to what they’d very kindly been given. It would be embarrassing if one of his family overheard or saw what was going on. “No. It will be fine. The bed is huge anyway.” A look of relief whispered over his face.

There was a family dinner that evening. They were placed on a table with several of Meeko’s cousins and their partners. Fiona immediately felt comfortable among them and they didn’t question Meeko’s introduction of her as ‘Fiona — my best friend’. It was a good label. The cousins lived across all areas of the UK, in a variety of occupations, and caught up with each other rarely, except during lockdown it seemed — there was much talk of a Zoom quiz league they’d set up to help beat the boredom. Someone suggested they breakfast together the next day and then take a boat trip down the Thames, arriving back atthe hotel for a quick lunch before donning their glad rags for the ceremony, which was due to happen in the hotel ballroom.

“Is lunch here included?” someone asked.

“Don’t think so.”

“Think arm and a leg,” Meeko warned.

“Then we’ll pick up a Subway on the way back from the river,” someone else suggested.

Fiona had only one glass of wine with dinner, even though Meeko kept reminding her it was free and she wasn’t driving. She didn’t explain that the thought of the one bed was looming and she wanted to be sober enough to not do anything either of them might regret. She’d brought her most puritan, long-length, long-sleeved and high-necked nightdress with her. It wasn’t the most comfortable of her nightwear options, and definitely not the most attractive, but the aim wasn’t to portray herself as a sexual being. She washed, brushed her teeth and changed in the privacy of the giant bathroom. When she came out Meeko had already shed his one pair of good chinos and best shirt and was wearing a style of blue and red paisley pyjamas that a grandfather might choose. He was fiddling with the huge teal sofa that sat beneath the bedroom window. “This converts into a sofa bed,” he said. “And there’s spare bedding in the top of the wardrobe. It would save us any . . . embarrassment.”

He turned his back and ran his fingers along the floor edge of the settee, as though searching for a magic catch that would spring the whole thing open. This was what she’d wanted, separate sleeping arrangements so they each knew where the line was drawn. But now that Meeko was trying to make it happen, it felt like an insult. Did he not want to be near her? Had she misread the signs? Neither of them had openly voiced their attraction. Perhaps it wasn’t mutual. She tried not to be disappointed that the thing she’d previously been hoping for was happening. She was over-tired and things were getting warpedin her brain. It was gone midnight and they’d agreed to meet the others for breakfast at 7.30. Plus, she’d started the day exhausted after a night listening to Natalie crying and finally getting up herself to offer moral support to Adele before the poor girl cracked, ordered an Uber and abandoned her baby on the steps of the hospital. Meeko was making no progress with the bed-settee.

“Leave it, Meeko,” she said. “This is a huge bed. We can manage for a couple of nights.”

He jumped up immediately. “If you’re sure?”

She nodded and then watched as he took the four spare pillows from the wardrobe and built a cushioned wall down the centre of the bed. She loved and hated him for it at the same time. Then she surprised herself by closing her eyes and being aware of nothing else until Meeko gently tapped her on the shoulder at 6.45 and asked if she’d like to use the shower first.

“I’m not trying to say that you need to shower,” his face coloured. “But I thought you might like first go. And I’ve made coffee.”

They pussyfooted around each other until they reached the dining room and were waved over to a table full of the cousins they’d sat with the previous evening. Family in-jokes were batted around along with reminiscences of previous reunions and comments on family members who had been lost. Fiona was finding it increasingly difficult to pretend active involvement and keep a smile on her face.

“You go on the boat trip without me,” she said to him afterwards. “We’re both feeling awkward, let’s give each other some space and then reconvene to dress for the ceremony.”

“Will you be OK on your own?”

She nodded. It wasn’t her ideal weekend in London, but she didn’t want to be an interloper in a family who rarely had a chance to catch up with each other.

Meeko kept his expression blank so she couldn’t tell if it was what he wanted. She suspected it was and, from his actions last night, that he was also happy with a purely platonic friendship between the two of them. This thought made her mood descend even lower than when Joe was comparing her to Rose and finding her wanting. She had to make herself more positive before the wedding this afternoon. After the boat trip party had gone, Fiona went off to indulge herself in history at the British Museum.

On her way back to the hotel she picked up a prawn sandwich and a banana from the M&S food hall. The empty packet was in the bin and Fiona was stepping out of the shower when she heard Meeko return. Her fitted, gold knee-length dress was laid out across the bed and she had only the thick, fluffy bath towel to protect her from prying eyes. Fiona cursed his return; she’d been hoping to have a relaxed session getting ready without the need to hide away in the now steamy bathroom.

“Hi,” she called through the bathroom door. “Won’t be a minute. Just getting dry.” She towelled her arms and legs again and tried to think of a plan. Her deodorant, body lotion, moisturiser, in fact everything she needed to make her sixty-year-old self presentable, were in her overnight bag which sat in the corner of the bedroom. She could ask Meeko to pass the case and her dress and the fresh underwear which she’d unpacked into the top drawer, and just open the bathroom door a few inches for him to do so. Or she could brazen it out by appearing before him in her towel and then attempting to get dressed behind it, like she used to do in the school changing rooms after PE. Then she had a better plan.

“Meeko? Will you be showering next?”

“Yes. Even I know putting a brand-new shirt and freshly hired suit over a slightly sweaty body is not the best thing.”

“Why don’t you slip into the bathroom as I slip out so that we both get some privacy to paper over the cracks of age?”

There was the sound of fumbling and a suitcase opening. “Can you throw me a fresh towel out.”

It was only after she’d tossed a large dry towel into the main part of the room that Fiona realised Meeko hadn’t properly understood what she meant. She had wanted him to enter the bathroom fully clothed carrying all his wedding stuff while she slipped out.

Too late. “I’m ready if you are!” he called.

She opened the bathroom door slowly. He was immediately in front of her wearing only a matching towel tied around his waist. She remembered the two robes in the wardrobe, which would have offered both of them better protection, but they’d ignored them. He was standing too close. She turned sideways to edge past. He misread her movements and stepped the wrong way. They collided. Bare arm against bare arm. Fiona jumped as though a red-hot iron had branded her skin. Meeko’s eyes were wide and he was rooted to the spot.Move!she wanted to urge him.Lock yourself away and keep that body of yours out of my sight.But she couldn’t speak. He stepped forward again and this time his skin lingered slightly longer against hers, giving strength to the ensuing heat that travelled to her groin. She wavered, wanting to stride away from danger but also wanting to stay and find out what might happen.

“Just testing,” said Meeko. His eyes bored directly into hers.

“Testing what?” Her words came out little louder than a whisper.

“That the magical feeling was real and that you felt it too. You did, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” A squeak was all she could manage. There it was, their mutual attraction openly acknowledged. Neither of them moved. She’d never been a daredevil wanting to jump out of a planewith only a flimsy parachute between her and a horrific death. But now they’d both taken this massive leap of faith without knowing the landing place.

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