“No, they have spaces, but they’re a hundred and ten pound per night.”
Tom let out a low whistle. “Well, it is almost Christmas.”
“I know, but it’s not exactly in the city centre or anything.” And no way was I affording one on my own either.
“I’ve got my parent’s credit card for emergencies, and I reckon this qualifies.” As if we conjured them up by mentioning them, Tom’s phone started to ring, Mum & Dad flashing up on the screen. “Answer that for me, and put it on speaker.”
I did as I was told and kept quiet. I wasn’t sure how much his parents knew about our falling out, and I’d rather not find out while stuck in the car with Tom.
“Hello?” Tom answered as I held the phone out for him.
“Tom, it’s your mother.”
I smothered a laugh at his eye-roll.
“I know it is, Mum. What’s up?”
“Have you got snow? And I hope you’ve pulled over to answer this call, I don’t want you getting stopped by the police for being on your phone.”
I grinned and he glared at me.
“You called me, and no, I can’t exactly pull over on the M42.” He shot me a wicked look and I cringed. “But I got Jared to answer it, so it’s all good.”
The lengthy pause told me all I needed to know.
“Oh, well . . . um . . . that’s . . . that’s lovely. And safe.” I could hear the curiosity in her voice. She must be dying to ask about us, but she held her tongue. I was amazed. Tom’s mum was lovely but as gossipy as they came. “Is the snow bad there? It’s so thick here I can’t see the bottom of the garden.”
Well, that didn’t bode well.
Tom sighed, probably thinking the same thing. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad here too. We were thinking about booking into a Premier Inn for the night. There’s one at the next junction.”
“Oh yes, that’s a great idea. We were worried about you driving in these conditions, sweetheart. It’s awful out there.”
“I was going to put it on your credit card, is that all right? I can pay you back after Christmas.”
“Yes, of course, dear. That’s what it’s for. And don’t worry about paying us back.”
“Thanks, Mum. I’ll let you know when we get there.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Talk to you later, and drive safely.”
“Will do.”
They said their goodbyes and I hung up.
Tom’s speed had dropped to about twenty-five miles an hour, visibility getting worse.
“You’d better book a room before they all sell out.”
He had a point. Everyone on the motorway was probably thinking the same as us.
Thankfully, I managed to get a twin room. At least we wouldn’t need to share a bed.
I didn’t know whether I was disappointed or relieved.
“I’ll go halves on the room,” I offered. Not that I had any money, but I couldn’t let him pay. “But you’ll probably have to wait till I get paid, if that’s okay?”
He shook his head, eyes not leaving the road. “It’s fine, you heard my mum. They’re happy to pay.”
“Yeah, but that was for you—”
“Oh, come on, you know damn well they think of you like another son.”
That was before, though.
He let out another heavy sigh. Well over the twelve mark now. “I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I told them we weren’t speaking. I didn’t tell them why, though. Just that it was a misunderstanding on both our parts.” The car swerved a little and we both gasped. “We can talk when we get to the Premier Inn.”
Oh goodie.
Something to look forward to. I glanced out the window at the snow, even heavier now. White surrounded us, settling on the road as well as the hard shoulder. On second thought, I’d take whatever talk Tom had in store for us as long as we got there in one piece.
Finally the sign for our junction appeared, and Tom crawled up the exit slipway to the roundabout. Thankfully there were very few cars, and we managed to navigate our way to the Premier Inn car park, only skidding once or twice. I had to peel my fingers off the edge of the seat, and I noticed Tom flexing his after he turned off the engine.
We sat in silence.
“Thank fuck for that,” I muttered, my heart rate slowly returning to normal. “I feel like I’ve aged ten years.”
He let out a bark of relieved laughter. “You and me both.”
I glanced at the time on my phone—5:50pm. Christ, it had taken ages to drive those last few miles. Still, we’d only been in the car for about two and a half hours, yet it felt like forever. “Come on.” I reached for the door handle. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” Maybe two. Maybe four or five if we were going to have the talk I thought we were.
The reception area was surprisingly empty. Of people, anyway. It was quite tastefully decorated with fairy lights around the desk and a small white twinkling Christmas tree in the corner. I’m not sure what I was expecting exactly, but I figured we wouldn’t be the only ones trying to get out of the snow. I’d left my bag of presents safely locked in the boot of Tom’s car, just lugging my suitcase inside, envious of Tom and his rucksack slung over his shoulder.
“Hi, can I help you?” The woman behind the counter smiled at us in welcome, and I stepped forward. “We’ve booked a twin room for the night.”
“Name?”
“Oh, um . . . Danford.” I’d forgotten I’d booked it under Tom’s name. It felt weird giving his last name, like we were together, together. Stupid, I know, but it still sent a shiver down my spine. Judging from the quick look she flashed us, the receptionist thought so too.
I felt my face flush and studiously avoided looking at Tom.
She slid two key cards towards me with a smile. “You’re in room nine. It’s through that door there.” She pointed at the door to her left, decorated with a huge wreath. “Then follow the corridor around to the right.”
Like most Premier Inn’s, there was a pub next door. And I didn’t know about Tom, but I was starving. “What time does the pub serve food till?”
“Nine thirty, but we’re almost fully booked in here, so you might struggle to get a table if you haven’t pre-booked one.”
Tom gestured at the heavily falling snow outside. “It was kind of an impromptu stop.”
She laughed and reached for the phone. “Let me see what they’ve got.”
Five minutes later, she’d managed to get us a table for two at seven o’clock. Apparently they’d had a few cancellations due to the weather. Not surprising, really.
With dinner sorted, we thanked her and headed to our room.
Our room.
Even that sounded ominous.
Of course we’d shared rooms, and even beds before, and not once had it felt weird or awkward, but walking along the carpeted corridor, the tension crept up my spine until I was awash with nerves.
Tom seemed oblivious.
He walked ahead, phone in his hand as he messaged someone. Probably his mother, knowing him, letting her know we’d got here safely.
A thought suddenly struck me, and I came to an abrupt halt in the hallway. It might not be his mum. Maybe he had someone else he needed to contact. He’d been single four months ago, but a lot could happen in that time. None of my other friends had mentioned it, but then I was kind of touchy on the subject and they were all doing their best to remain neutral.