He kicked his bedroom door shut and answered before the third ring. ‘Emily?’
‘Yes. Hi.’
‘Happy new year,’ he said.
‘Same to you.’
Had she thought about what he’d said at the pub? Did she believe him, or had Aidan won her over?
‘How did you celebrate in the end?’ she asked. They were supposed to see the new year in together with Izzy and Aidan. They’d planned it months ago, but that went out the window after the scandal of Christmas.
‘Reu and I drove down to Brighton in the van. We did an impromptu gig at a little bar in the Lanes playing cover songs for free beer.’
‘Sounds fun.’
‘The fireworks on the beach were pretty cool.’ He swapped the phone to the other hand and wiped his palm on his jeans. ‘How about you?’
‘I worked at the pub in the end.’
She hadn’t said much so far but he was getting a sense she was preoccupied, building up to something maybe?
‘Not during the biggest celebration of the year?’ he joked.
‘Afraid so. It wasn’t so bad; I got triple time and loads of tips. Listen,’ she said, suddenly business-like. ‘We should meet. To talk.’
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. ‘Okay. When?’
She suggested they meet on Thursday at a bar in central London. ‘See you then,’ she said, wrapping up the call before he’d finished scribbling down the address.
‘It’s good to hear your voice…’ he ventured, not wanting her to go.
‘See you Thursday,’ she said and hung up.
He knew then, she only wanted to meet because she was too nice to break bad news over the phone.
Chapter 30
January 1996
On the train into town, Will sipped whiskey from his dad’s pewter hip flask as suburbia slid by in the dark. She would let him down gently, face to face. That’s why she wanted to meet.
He was early, so he sauntered through town and found the ancient wonky bar she’d chosen with an hour to spare. Hops dangled from heavy beams on the ceiling and shabby antique mirrors advertised stout with faded lettering. He bought a pint and settled at a table next to an old guy wearing a fedora, reading an SAS survival book. Beyond him, by the window, a girl was holding something up to the lamp on the table. Was that Emily? He grabbed his drink, took a few steps in her direction and saw it was her.
‘Will! You’re early…’ She stood and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Just as she did when she came to the house for dinner with Aidan.
‘So are you.’ He smiled – happy to see her, happy she was early too. ‘What’s that you’re looking at?’
‘I just picked up these transparencies from a lab around the corner.’ She showed him a plastic sleeve filled with photographic images. ‘We can only process black and white film at college.’
‘Can I see?’ He pulled up the chair beside her.
‘Sure.’
She held the sleeve up to the lamp and he had to put his face close to hers to see.
Each image was a splash of iridescent colour, a couple of inches square, all the same subject but with slight variations in composition. A small wooden treasure chest sat open in the centre and pouring out of it, in all directions, were butterflies and beetles. The colours ranged from vibrant purples and emeralds in the middle to deep, glittering black at the edges. It was intricate and beautiful.
‘Wow. I love it. Where did you get all those creatures?’