Page 56 of The Last Train Home
I’ve bought us a bottle of Moët & Chandon from the supermarket, because who knows when we’ll get to do this again. We’re sitting on chairs on the balcony and our bare feet are up against the glass balustrade. I look out at the view of London. The red light of Canary Wharf blinks out at me. In the distance, further into the City, skyscrapers are being built. A bird flies past us, and all feels right with the world. I top up our glasses of fizz.
‘I’ll miss you,’ Natasha says.
‘Me too. I’m supposed to be back for Tom’s wedding in September, so let’s make sure we fix a date to meet. I could even come back here and sleep in my old room, so it’ll be like old times.’
‘Oh, I’ll have replaced you by then,’ she teases.
‘Charming!’
She laughs and so do I.
‘Might have replaced you with a man.’
‘A man?’ I ask. ‘A real one?’
‘Piss off,’ she says. ‘Yes, a real one.’
‘But you don’t want to settle down,’ I point out. ‘You like the easy, flirty nights out that don’t go anywhere.’
‘I did,’ she says. ‘But I’ve met someone.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Remember the hot estate agent, Will, who rented us this place?’
No. ‘Sure.’
‘It’s him. I had to re-sign the tenancy and we got chatting. We’ve been out a few times over the past couple of months.’
‘You never told me.’
‘You’ve not been here much to tell.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Plus, anyway, I thought it would go the way of the others: a couple of dates, a couple of drunken fumbles and then done. But actually it’s past that now. It’s moved towards something else – something good.’
‘That’s wonderful.’
‘I really like him. You know that feeling you get when you want to be with someone the whole time. When you want to wake up next to them, go to bed with them, hold their hand. I can’t stop touching him when we’re out. It’s automatic. I just reach out for him and Will reaches out for me when we’re walking, or he puts his hand across the table in restaurants to hold my hand. I also find myself touching him inappropriately when we’re alone in lifts. I can’t stop myself.’
I laugh and spit out my champagne. ‘Natasha!’
‘It’s fine. He wants to be touched inappropriately in lifts, believe me.’
‘Oh my God,’ I say, trying not to laugh again.
‘But there’s something else. It’s not only lust. It’s something … bigger.’
‘Is it love?’ I dare.
‘I’m not sure!’ she says. And then, ‘Maybe … No. It’s too soon. But there’s something there. Is that what it’s like foryou and Sean?’ she asks. ‘Is that what love is like? Do you want him, not just sexually, but do you want to be with him all the time? Do you want to reach out and touch him, tell him everything, be one hundred per cent completely his, and have him be yours?’
I’ve never heard Natasha speak like this about anyone in all the years I’ve known her. She’s got it bad for this guy. He is a lucky man.
I nod. ‘Yes,’ I say, because what else can I say? Of course it was like that at the start, with Sean and me. But that’s the honeymoon period. It doesn’t last for ever, as Natasha is going to find out. But if I say that out loud, it’s going to come out wrong. It’s going to sound bad. So I don’t say it. Sean and I aren’t like that any more, but we’re planning our life, making decisions together. I am jealous of the honeymoon stage that Natasha’s got going on. I don’t think I’d realised it was over for me.
Chapter 39
