Oh, Cora, I miss you on evenings like these. Dancing in that room, even with Luke treading on my toes and swearing under his breath, reminded me of evenings with you. We did love to dance. You made me feel much more strong and capable, and I used to love holding you gently, watching you turn, your hair and skirts swirling. I hope wherever you are, you are dancing.
I love you, my darling.
Teddy x
Chapter 20
Love is not wanting to hurt her because that would hurt you more
HARRY, 82
After leaving Amy I was at a total loss. Wiping at my face, biting my lip as another passer-by muttered something under their breath at me, I pressed myself up against a window display, taking my mobile out of my bag. I wanted to talk to someone, hear a friendly voice. The dull ache had spread and I felt utterly wretched.
My finger hovered automatically over Luke’s name. We’d been stepping round each other in the flat, barely talking since the night of charades. In fact, recently he’d been out more and more. Normally I would return to find him in the flat, evidence that he’d been there all evening (three beer bottles, saucepans soaking, empty pizza boxes) but I had often returned to an empty flat or he would appear moments later refusing to be drawn on where he’d been.
‘Work,’ he’d say.
Dark thoughts nudged at me briefly but I trusted Luke and I couldn’t say anything much. I was out all hours too. I pressed his name decisively: he would understand. He knew how much Amy meant to me. I heard the ringtone and already felt hope swell inside me.
‘Hello, Luke Winters’ phone.’
I frowned at the airy female voice, realising I had pressed his work number and not his mobile. In the next split second I realised I was on the line with Storm. Why was she always nearby or answering his phone? Did she have aspirations to work on a reception desk? Was she just loitering there being all sexy and red-headed in the hope I would phone and she could rub my nose in it?
‘Um, hello . . . Luke Winters’ phone. Can I help?’
‘Hi, Storm, isn’t it? It’s Lottie,’ I said, knowing I had ice in my voice, not pausing for a reply. ‘Could I speak to Luke please. It’s important,’ I added. Yeah, Storm, important.
‘Oh hey, Lottie,’ she said, as if we were Best Friends Forever. ‘He’s just popped to the loo actually, oh no, hold on, he’s heading back this way. Luuuuuke!’ I could hear a giggle and a sentence and Luke’s reply. ‘Here he is,’ she sing-songed so that I made a face at the phone. I could feel my knuckles tightening on my mobile.
‘Lottie,’ Luke said. ‘Is everything all right? Are you OK?’ I felt a swell of relief at the worry in his voice, and also the fact that Storm was probably close enough to hear it too. Ha, Storm. Then I heard a giggle again and I hoped that the next time she went to her wardrobe to look for her favourite heels they weren’t there, or that she could only locate the left one. ‘Lottie? Are you OK?’ Luke repeated, interrupting my latest Storm curse.
I couldn’t keep the recent hurt from my voice. ‘I just . . . ’ It felt strange and selfish now to launch into my story about Amy. ‘I just thought I’d call, see how your day is going—’
‘Look, I’m really sorry but we’re quite busy this end, can we speak later?’
The use of ‘we’ made me clench my jaw. ‘Sure,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘Wouldn’t want to get in the way.’
Luke paused a moment. I could almost see him turning inwards as his voice dropped a tone. ‘Everything all right, Lottie?’
‘Bad day,’ I mumbled. ‘I was going to head to ChoccyDee.’
‘Well, that might cheer you up, you love that place,’ Luke said quickly and loudly, clearly wanting to leave the call.
‘Oh yes,’ I snapped, losing my patience, the phone call not going as I’d intended, ‘a cup of hot chocolate should definitely compensate for the potential loss of my best friend.’
Nothing on the end of the line. I thought I might have lost connection. Then a weary sigh. ‘I didn’t mean . . . look, I am sorry, Lottie. I’ll talk to you later, OK? I’ve got to go—’
‘I understand,’ I interrupted dramatically. ‘You are obviously far too busy. I just wanted to hear your voice, more fool me,’ I said, firing the words down the phone.
Luke lowered his voice. ‘Hey, I get that you’ve had a bad day’ – I felt the tears start up again; why did I have to be such a Super Bitch? – ‘but, look, I can’t help you from here and I don’t want to fall out with you, OK?’
I should have agreed. He was right. I was always barking at him; he was the first person to feel the full force of any bad mood of mine. I felt chastened as I stood there. Then a stupid woman’s voice and a little laugh distracted me. ‘Well, you must get back to Storm and all the important work,’ and with a quick swipe at my phone I hung up on him.
Glowering at passers-by I set off down the road, elbows sharp today, just wanting to get out of there, sit down, order a large hot chocolate and lose myself in a Pity Party for One. Storm with her stupid thundery name and her stupid red hair. Luke with his ‘I’m too busy’.
Then I had another idea and pulled out my phone, sending a casual text. I just wanted to be somewhere to forget, be with someone I could talk work with, who didn’t know my friends, who didn’t have opinions about my recent behaviour, who, I admitted begrudgingly, made me feel better about myself. Startled at the returning beep I swallowed as he named a nearby restaurant and time.
I moved down the high street, through a narrow cobbled alley leading towards a sunlit square. London was a maze of tiny areas like this that you could walk past and never stumble on if you didn’t know they were there. People were sitting on low stone walls in their coats, chatting. The air smelt of garlic and I felt a momentary thrill for being somewhere so anonymous.
Loitering nervously by the menu out front, time ticking on, I felt a creeping panic that I shouldn’t be there, that I should be heading back to find Amy, fixing things with her, speaking to Luke, but I knew this was easier: I was in a square of Autumn sunshine, about to enjoy a glass of wine with someone who wouldn’t judge me for an hour. And it was work, helpful for work, I was convincing myself as I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see a tailored grey suit, Ralph Lauren sunglasses and straight white teeth.
‘You found it.’ Toby kissed me on both cheeks and I felt myself flush. Had he always been this tall? This good-looking? I remember Amy once saying that everyone looked better in sunglasses and realised that must be it.
I also realised I hadn’t responded. ‘I did!’ I said, a little too loudly.
Toby had commandeered a passing waiter and guided me to a small table in the corner, the waiter frantically clearing and wiping at the surface before we sat down. Toby seemed to have that impact on people. He had requested the wine menu and pulled out a chair for me.
‘I’m glad you got in touch. I was about to send some work your way. A new case.’
I knew I should have asked about it – we always talked about work. Toby had sent me numerous cases and I had always been flattered that he asked for me, the clerks smirking sometimes as they handed it over. I didn’t want to talk about the case, though, not in this quiet haven, wine soon on its way and an urgent desire to remove myself from everything that reminded me of my normal life.