Page 127 of Falling for You
‘Sorry,’ I say quickly. ‘You’re just a bit famous in the US. Like, do you drive one of those black cabs with the lights?’
He presses his lips together and nods. ‘That I do.’
‘And do you know all of the back alleys and secret ways to get around the city?’
He drinks his pint, looking at me out of the corner of his eye like I might be winding him up. I hold my hands up in defence.
‘I’m just a crazy American. First time in London and all that.’
‘Are you about to ask if I know the King?’
I chuckle into my pint. ‘No. Why, do you?’
He laughs, shaking his head and giving me a shove. ‘I do know where he lives, though.’
‘That’s awesome!’ I cry, before catching his eye and feeling the penny drop.
Damn, I need to stop drinking.
‘Right,’ I say. ‘Another pint?’
CHAPTER THREE
Annie
Our door rattles open, warped from the constant autumn rain that has been lashing the streets of London all day for the past six weeks. Outside, the leaves are starting to change from the cooling shades of olive, moss and fern we have throughout the summer to a rainbow of juniper, cherry red and fiery orange, and although the rain has been lightly splattering my shoulders since I ducked out of Clapham Junction station, it’s still slightly warm outside. Too warm for me to comfortably be wearing my cable-knit jumper and oversized scarf, not that that’s going to stop me. I’ve shoved my reluctant summer wardrobe under my bed – I am not pulling it back out.
Tanya, Penny and I live in a maisonette, and by that I mean, we live in half a house. It’s a tall townhouse which has been sliced down the middle and given to two landlords who barter it off to people who are desperate to live in London.
The obsession with London that seems to burn through the veins of so many people makes complete sense to me. The constant buzz, the fizz of languages you collect whenwalking down the streets, the feeling that every bar, café or shop you walk into could be filled with people from the other side of the world, from a completely different walk of life. It’s exciting.
And yes, the majority of these eclectic, exciting people don’t talk to each other and barely make eye contact. But ten years later and I’m still here. All of us are: Penny, Tanya and I. Sworn into a secret pact.
Tanya is easily the most beautiful person that I know. She has smooth, dark skin, high cheekbones and bright, warm brown eyes. Her Afro hair springs out of her head in tight curls and reaches her chin. She also has legs up to my armpits and, to top it all off, she has a lovely personality too.
Penny and I look more similar, which makes sense as we often act like squabbling sisters. With her blonde hair, pink cheeks and bright green eyes, she’s obviously beautiful too, but not like Tanya is, more like me. We both cried about this when we were hungover at university, looking back at pictures from the night before where Tanya looked like a supermodel and we looked like we’d just won a competition to meet her.
I met Penny and Tanya when we were all slotted together in identical rooms next door to each other in our university halls. The three of us were a bit different. Tanya, tall and beautiful. Penny, painfully brainy and technical, and, well, me. The kooky one who loved making costumes and still made all her own clothes. But we just fitted together. Tanya made us cool, got us into all the parties and was fiercelydefensive of us if we ever had a guy not treat us well. Penny was dependable; she could drink us under the table but also make a fantastic stew with eight of your five-a-day and a strong cup of tea. She’s also a total wind-up and is possibly the most annoying person I’ve ever met. And I made their Halloween costumes every year, and any other fancy dress that a uni night out demanded. We were the best-dressed, best-fed, most empowered threesome on campus. So, when we all graduated, we moved into our own flat in Clapham and haven’t moved out since.
There have been boyfriends over the years. Tanya has moved out a few times, and Penny’s long-term boyfriend Mike semi lives with us, but we’ve all clung to each other like sleeping otters. I know our days are numbered, though, as at thirty-two, we’re officially creeping towards the decade filled with marriages, babies and mortgages, and I don’t think the three of us could all find partners who’d be happy living in a commune.
But for now, it’s still the three of us.
I kick the door shut and immediately begin to charge up the stairs.
‘Hello!’ I shout. I can hear the TV pattering in the background and I look up and see a horrified Tanya, and an amused Penny.
‘Oh my God, what happened?’ Tanya says, uncurling herself off the sofa and rushing to help me. ‘Did you get made redundant or something?’
I drop the bags with a thud. ‘What? No – much better than that, I got us all these amazing Halloween decorations.’
Penny grins, her eyebrows raised. ‘How come?’
‘Work didn’t want them – isn’t that mad?’ I say, slumping down onto the sofa in our living room and ripping my jumper off before I combust.
‘Oh my God,’ Penny scoffs, pulling out my string of inflatable cauldrons. ‘What is this?’
‘Annie,’ Tanya says, her mothering tone taking over. ‘What’s going on? We don’t need all of this. We still have the decorations from last year.’
