Page 71 of Always the Bridesmaid

‘Oh my God, sorry,’ I tell the young couple opposite us. ‘I was distracted.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Charlie says. ‘They’ll be suing us for the clothes off our backs if you admit liability. Have you seen how jazzy my Harry Potter T-shirt is today?’

The young couple start to laugh. ‘Don’t worry about it!’ the young man says. ‘We’re totally uncoordinated.’

‘But I probably would sue for that T-shirt if it had been Hufflepuff rather than Gryffindor,’ the young woman says. ‘I’m a Harry Potter fanatic. Have you visited the studios?’

‘Not yet,’ Charlie says, ‘but we’re going.’

‘We are?’ I ask, delighted. ‘I’ve read all the books.’

Charlie looks at me. ‘You have?’

‘There’s not an age restriction on wanting to be a wizard,’ I tell him.

The young woman is smiling at us.

‘You guys are couple goals,’ she says. Then she nudges her partner and the couple pedal away from us, calling ‘Goodbye’ and telling us to enjoy the studios.

Charlie and I look at each other and laugh, deciding to call it time on our calamitous boating experience.

Ironically, following my unexpected emotional meltdown in the pedal boat, I feel like the proverbial weight I’ve been carrying around since I’ve been in England has lifted.

Charlie and I have spent the most random and amazing day together, finishing the adventures at London Zoo. We spent a lot of our visit making wild animal noises and comparing each other’s features to those of the animals around us: Charlie’s wild hair to a lion’s mane. My long legs to a giraffe. Charlie’s laugh to a gelada. And my long feet to a flamingo.

We bought sandwiches and had a picnic on the grass. We chose ice creams for each other based on personality types. Charlie chose a Calippo for me, telling me I’m icy at first glance but the longer I’m held, the more I melt, which I thought a fair reflection of my time spent with Charlie. I chose Charlie a Smarties ice cream – bold and gregarious on the outside but calm, soft and mellow once those crazy candies have been bitten through.

We’re on the underground heading back toward Covent Garden, where we plan to watch street artists perform and grab some dinner at a pub, but I notice Charlie, sitting opposite me, rolling his jaw to stifle a yawn. Then I catch it and I am less subtle as I hold my hand over my open mouth.

‘Please don’t feel like you can’t cancel on me tonight,’ he tells me.

He’s giving me an out again and maybe he wants one too. We’ve had a big few days. My legs and feet are tired and I’d like nothing more than to put on some loungewear and eat room service from the big bed in my hotel room. But I’m happy in Charlie’s company.

With little thought, I suggest, ‘How would you feel about getting room service at my hotel tonight?’

As soon as the words have left my mouth, I’m conscious they could be taken as suggestive and I feel my clumsiness heat my cheeks.

‘Do you have good movie channels?’ Charlie asks, not taking my words to be suggestive at all, thankfully.

‘There’s a box office and I’m willing to splurge for a movie in my stretchy pants.’

‘I’m sold.’

27

CHARLIE

I’m lying on a large hotel bed, next to the woman I have undeniably fallen head over heels for. And the fact that she’s switched from her summer dress – which she looked stunning in, again – into her stretchy loungewear, isn’t off-putting at all. It’s only serving to make her more endearing to me.

I shouldn’t be allowing my mind to do so but it’s imagining lazy weekend days spent lounging around our home, lying in bed, having a late brunch and binge-watching our latest addiction on Netflix. I can see it all.

In the past, if I even got to a place of starting to imagine days like this with someone, it would’ve made me twitchy. But lying here, with my arms behind my head and at full stretch on the bed, with Sarah sitting cross-legged next to me deciding what to order from the room service menu, I’m not twitchy at all.

Maybe that’s because I know there can’t be anything more than friendship between us. With her words, Sarah keeps making that clear, despite all the subtle touches here and there, arm links, kisses on the cheek, knee grazes. There are moments, minuscule moments, where I wonder for the briefest time whether I might not just be imagining mutual feelings.

Then she’ll completely squash that idea, like she did on the pedal boat earlier today.

So, I’m not twitchy but that’s because I know my feelings are not reciprocated.

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