Page 98 of Short Stack 3

“Are you sure, Tom? You’re actually shouting,” I say worriedly.

“I am perfect,” he says. He throws his arms out in a gesture I last saw onstage when I made him go and see Macbeth in Stratford. “Or I would be if I had you.” He steps back again.

I stare at him. “You do have me,” I say, unable to keep the confusion out of my voice.What is going on here?My eyes narrow as he takes another step. “Oh, Tom, do be careful. You’re a bit too close to the canal.”

“If I had your hand in—” He leans towards me but then seems to lose his balance. He takes yet another stumbling step back. For a second, he seems to hover, and then he vanishes from sight… And we hear a small splash as he lands in the canal.

“Shit,” Freddy says rather casually for such a catastrophic event.

My heart is hammering so hard that I can’t breathe “Oh, my god!Tom!” I shout loudly, my voice echoing across the canal. “He’s dead.”

“It’s okay,” Jack says immediately.

I ignore him and race towards the edge of the canal, aware of the others following. “Tom?” I shout. “Tom?”

“I’m here.”

I sag with relief when I see him standing in the canal. “Oh my god,” I breathe, falling against a tree. “Tom!”

“The water isn’t that deep here,” Jack continues, saying something to Arlo that I can’t hear for the thundering in my ears.

“Tom, come out!” I shout. “You’re soaking wet.” I have visions of him catching pneumonia or getting a terrible waterborne disease, and I can feel myself getting hysterical, which is a novel feeling for someone who’s avoided feelings for so long.

“No,” he proclaims. “I give up.”

“What?” My voice is so high it’s screechy, and for a moment, all I can do is panic. “Don’t do it! You’ve got so much to live for.”

Arlo comes to stand next to me, watching Tom with twinkling eyes. “He’s not talking about drowning himself.”

I sag in relief. “Then what is he on about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Please just listen to him, or we’ll be here all night.”

“Thank you, Arlo,” Tom calls from the canal. Even soaking wet with his hair flopping in his face and mud streaking across his nose, he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. “As I was saying, Bee, I give up. I planned this whole trip thinking I was going to get the perfect moment, but now I know I don’t need it.”

I shake my head. Should I get him a blanket or join him in the water? If he’s going to catch pneumonia, I shall do it with him. “What on earth are you on about?”

“Beethoven Amadeus Bannister, I’m trying to ask you to marry me,” he shouts.

Everything stops. The noise. The wind. Even the stars and moon seem to pause.

I take a shuddering breath, and everything seems to come back to life. “What?” I whisper.

The others are all talking excitedly, but I ignore them, focusing all my attention on Tom. My beautiful, wonderful, and chaotically romantic man. Tears fill my eyes.

“Oh my god. Really, Tom?”

He gives me a drunken grin. “Really, really, babe. I love you so much. Will you marry me?”

The noise of a car engine sounds, and we all turn to see a police car pull up next to us. Two officers get out and walk steadily to our side, where they, too, look down at Tom standing there.

“Tom’s going to be arrested,” Arlo says happily.

My mouth twitches. Only a Wright would get arrested during a proposal. Our story will be one of those his family tell all the time, embellishing and adding flourishes, and I couldn’t be happier to be a part of that tradition.

“I think it is time to come out, sir,” one of the policemen says. “It is very cold in there.”

“I’m warmed by the glow of my love,” Tom informs them solemnly, and I can’t help but smile at him. I’m so fucking in love with this remarkable man.

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