Page 71 of Falling for You
I really struck gold when I stumbled across her job advert all those years ago. Pam swears a lot, she doesn’t like small talk and she refuses to go to the pantomime with me every Christmas, but she’s my biggest fan. I could knit her an all-in-one sleepsuit for the summer and she’d wear it, even if it meant drowning in her own sweat.
I go back to my desk and, to my annoyance, feel myself glance expectantly down at my phone. It stares back up at me, motionless. Like the arrogant little shit it is.
Oh my God, this is going to drive meinsane.
‘Right,’ Pam says, getting to her feet. ‘Annie, I’m going to go and meet a client for lunch. Can you man the phones for an hour or so?’
‘Sure,’ I say at once. ‘Of course.’
I wiggle my mouse again to bring my laptop back to life when, next to me, my phone vibrates. I almost fall off my seat.
It’s Nate. He’s finally messaged me.
I scrabble to open it, adrenaline flying through my veins. As I read the text, my heart sinks and I feel a cold wash all over my body.
Right. Well, that’s that, then.
It’s over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Nate
I stare at my phone. It stares back at me silently. I’d been waiting for it to ring for hours, and then for the last forty minutes I’ve been sat, simply watching the blank screen.
After my date with Annie, I spent hours floating around like I was walking on air. Finally, London seemed a bit brighter. I started being able to see the London that I’d watched on TV all those years. I saw the smiling people, the couples kissing, the Christmas lights twinkling. I even laughed when a red bus skirted past me and splattered rainwater up my legs. I loved it here! I’d never had a feeling like this in New York. I don’t know if I’ve experienced this feeling in my entire life.
The morning after our date, I woke up to find Stevie knocking at my door with a paper cup of coffee. For the first time since I’d moved in, he was here to wake me up and help nurse my hangover. He perched on the end of my bed and made me recount all the details about the date, who Bat Girl really was and how things were left. When I told him I got her number, he insisted that I had to wait two days to message her. Apparently, that was the unwritten rule of datingLondoners. Any earlier and I’d give her ‘the ick’. If I hadn’t given her the ick by my dancing, he added unnecessarily.
Needless to say, I wanted to message her right away. I wanted to knock on her door and take her out for breakfast. Ask her where else weird and wonderful she could take me in London, what other stories she had, what other costumes she was planning to make. I wanted to know absolutely everything about her. But I took Stevie’s advice. He knew much more about dating than I did as he had far more experience (I came back with that one which, annoyingly, he took as a compliment).
I spent two solid days in my bubble. Work didn’t even feel that bad. Hell, I laughed when Brian showed me the new batch of people who had written in for the Miss Cinderella story. I told him I’d been on a date with Jane, which seemed to be dull enough to satisfy his appetite for gossip, and let him decide that perhaps I was better writing about the latest exhibitions in the London museums. Which was fine by me – I thought maybe I could take Annie with me. I hopped, skipped and jumped around London. I felt ten pounds lighter.
And then I woke up this morning to one, singular word on my phone and it was enough to make my blood turn to ice.
Help.
It was from Mom. She sent it at four in the morning, which would have been late at night for them. I called her as soon as I saw it, but she didn’t answer. Then I called Dad; he didn’t answer either. The sensible part of my brain triedto tell me that it was late for them; the reason they weren’t answering was because they were sound asleep, tucked up in their pine bed and floral bedcovers. But the ugly, irrational side of my brain sucked the silence of the morning up like gasoline.
Maybe they aren’t answering because something has happened. It’s too late now. If you’d answered at the time, then you could have been there. If you hadn’t left New York then you could check on them; you could even have been with Mom when she messaged. But you’re not. You’re here and something has happened to her, and now nobody is speaking to you.
It’s been swirling around my body for the past six hours, ripping every part of joy out of me and extinguishing every spark that had been flickering for the past two days. All that’s left in me is cold, dark fear. I messaged Brian to say that I needed to work from home, and I’ve just sat staring out of the window ever since. I messaged Annie too.
Hey, sorry I’ve got a lot going on right now. Have a good week.
It’s hardly the message I’d wanted to send, but I didn’t want to leave her in silence and I didn’t know what else to say.
I haven’t told Stevie. He left to go to a gig before I’d gotten up, and there is no point worrying him. I’ll tell him once I know what’s going on. Once Mom calls me.
If she ever calls me.
I lean my head against the back of the lumpy sofa. I tried going on a walk earlier to take my mind off it all, but all it did was make me constantly worry that my phone may losesignal or ring without me hearing it, and I’d miss another message.
Why would she be asking for my help? She should be at home with Dad, safe. What could possibly be wrong?
I almost jump out of my skin when my phone vibrates. I snatch it from the coffee table and deflate as I see Stevie’s name on the screen.
‘Hey, man.’ I told myself that I wasn’t going to tell Stevie about the message until I knew what was going on. But the more time that has passed, the more scared I’ve become. This was my plan based on the idea that Mom or Dad would call as soon as they woke up. But what if something worse has happened? What if they aren’t able to call me, and we don’t hear from them for days? Or not at all? The thought of it makes me feel sick.
