Inevitably, predictably, Will could feel his chest getting tight, his skin growing cold and clammy, the fear rising up in him.
No.
Breathe.
Not now.
Breathe.
This was just a panic attack.
Breathe.
A physical manifestation of his inner turmoil.
Breathe.
Will’s inner turmoil was meant to be better now.
Cured.
Fixed.
Breathe.
Though obviously it wasn’t.
Breathe.
Except now he had someone to call. Someone who always knew the right thing to say. He had a person.
31
Margot
On her non-Blossom weeks, Margot was still up to her neck in the dating pool, which also meant that was still despairing of ever finding a single man who was kind, funny, not completely hideous to look at, financially solvent and ready for some serious commitment.
‘It would be easier to find a fucking unicorn,’ she’d told Tracy, as she’d helped her with a massive declutter so she and Den could then pack up what was left of their possessions and move halfway across the world. Margot wasn’t exactly sure why she was enabling this hare-brained scheme, as she held up various possessions and asked Tracy if they were sparking joy.
What with all the bad dates, not one of them worth committing to even a second date, Tracy clearly still intent on emigrating to New Zealand, and heated debates at Ivy+Pearl about whether rose gold was still a thing and how did everyone feel about copper and gunmetal, Blossom was the only thing that kept Margot sane.
Blossom . . . and Will.
They pretended that they were hanging out together because it was better for Blossom – that even though she had two homes and two different routines, she had two owners who could put their differences aside, and present her with a united front. Not just the endless messaging back and forth, but meeting up each week for a Wednesday lunchtime walk and then again on Saturdays.
So, it was only natural that Margot would compare the men she met with Will. Compare them and always find them wanting.
Will would laugh at that joke.
Will would never pinch one of my chips without asking first.
Will would never, ever address all his remarks to my boobs.
Will would offer to walk me to the Tube station even if it was totally out of his way.
But what Will would and wouldn’t do was immaterial. Margot and Will wanted different things in life, so a couple of snatched kisses was all that she was ever going to get.
Still, as Margot put herself through a very low-impact yoga routine in her living room one Saturday morning in late March, she was finding it hard to stay in warrior pose and engage her core when her core was being battered by anticipatory flutters at the thought of seeing Will in a couple of hours for their usual walk.
She was just coming up from a very inept downward dog when her phone started to ring, which she ignored. Instead she concentrated on her breathing and tree pose as the phone rang out then, after a brief pause, beeped as the caller left her a voicemail. Then it rang again. Beeped. On the third cycle, she gave up tree pose and picked up her phone from the coffee table to see Will’s name flashing up.
‘Hello? Are we still meeting later? You could have just messaged instead—’
‘I need you,’ Will said urgently. ‘There’s something wrong with Blossom.’
‘What’s happened? Is she hurt? Are you at the vet?’
‘I’m at Ally Pally. Can you come now? I’ll pay for the Uber.’
‘Oh God, don’t worry about that,’ Margot said, already grabbing socks and trainers. ‘You’re freaking me out, Will.’
‘I’m kind of freaked out myself,’ he muttered, then gave Margot directions and made her promise that she’d come immediately.
It only took five minutes for the car to arrive. The driver wanted to talk, assumed that Margot was off to do some kind of physical activity as she was still in her yoga clothes, but she was so rattled that she didn’t even fret about losing her five-star Uber rating for cutting the poor man off before he could even finish a sentence.
‘Can you stop at the traffic lights in front of the palace?’ she demanded as they came into view.
‘Can’t do that, it’s a main road and there’s a bus behind us,’ the driver said laconically.
‘I will give you a hundred per cent tip,’ Margot promised, and he immediately came to a screeching halt, so she could scramble out of the car, cross over the road in the face of oncoming traffic, then race down the steps.
Will was standing with arms crossed, just a little distance away. There was no sign of Blossom; her lead dangled from Will’s hand.
‘Where is she?’ Margot shouted, but Will shook his head and put a finger to his lips, so Margot had no choice but to hurry over. Some people might even have said it was a run, though Margot did not run. Not ever.
‘She’s here,’ Will whispered as soon as Margot was in earshot. ‘She’s hiding in the bush behind that bench. There were two lads boxing, and I think it must have triggered a memory because she froze on the spot and when I tried to touch her, she snapped her teeth at me. Even the sound of my voice . . . I would never hurt her. I’m not like that.’
‘Well, of course you’re not,’ Margot said quickly with a glance up at Will. He was ashen, as if someone had reduced all his filters. ‘Have you got any treats?’
‘I’ve tried treats, but every time I go near she backs even further into the bush.’ Will shoved his hand into his hair. ‘I don’t know what to do. Do you know what to do? You usually do.’
Margot had absolutely no idea what to do. She got down on her hands and knees and peered through the slats of the bench to catch a glimpse of white fur, a heaving belly.
‘Blossom,’ she said softly. ‘Hey, little girl. Mummy’s here.’
Will didn’t even snort in derision at the dreaded M word, which he always said was much worse than co-pawrent.
‘Do you want to come out and say hello to me? Do you want cuddles?’
Asking Blossom if she wanted cuddles was always her cue to race into the living room and jump on the sofa for a snuggle session, but now it didn’t even warrant a reaction.
Margot looked helplessly at Will who shrugged and grimaced. ‘She’s been there for an hour now,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to drag her out and make things a million times worse.’
‘She has to come out in her own time,’ Margot agreed. Grimacing, she lowered herself until her bottom made contact with the cold, hard ground and crossed her legs. ‘Could you go to the café and get some bacon?’
From the way Blossom was shaking and panting, Margot doubted that even bacon would lure her out. In fact, she was just as worried about Will. His face was putty-coloured, he was breathing hard and he kept putting his hand to his chest. Then there was the pacing and the pulling at his hair.
He obviously needed to do something to ward off what looked like an incoming panic attack. ‘It’s worth a try, maybe?’ he asked hopefully. ‘Will you be all right?’
Margot’s buttocks were already on fire. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she assured him. ‘If there’s any new developments, I’ll call you.’
There weren’t any new developments in the twenty-five minutes that Will was gone, apart from a brief stand-off with a muscle-bound man in tight shorts and singlet who wanted to use the bench to stretch on, and was told by Margot, in no uncertain terms, to do one.