Alphabet Weekends - Elizabeth Noble [4]
Natalie had stood up, indignant. ‘I’m so sorry to come round and burden you with my stupid “heartbreak fallout”. How tiresome. I’ll go.’
He caught her wrist. ‘Shut up. I can take it. And the only place you’re going is the pub, with me, now. If I can’t reason you out of it, I’ll have to drink you out of it.’
Several drinks later, they were lying on their backs in the garden, still talking about Natalie’s heart.
‘You know what your trouble is?’
Natalie’s trouble at that moment was that she needed to pee, but she let her head loll to one side and looked at him. ‘What, O wise one?’
‘You’ve got the wrong criteria.’
‘Huh?’
‘You need to make more intellectual decisions, fewer emotional ones…’ ‘Decisions’ came out a bit slurred.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘You need to go for someone who won’t let you down.’
‘How are you supposed to know if someone’s going to let you down or not?’
‘I wouldn’t let you down.’
She flopped her arm on to his chest. ‘I know you wouldn’t. You’re my bestest friend.’ Patted him. She really must get up and go to the loo.
Tom was suddenly up on his elbow. Close. Looking at her. And then he kissed her, just once, lightly, on the lips. At first she thought he must have missed. Maybe he was trying to kiss the cheek of the second Natalie. He had drunk three pints. But his face said otherwise. ‘Shut up,’ she said, although he hadn’t spoken.
‘I’ll marry you.’
‘Shut up!’ A bit louder that time.
‘Not now. We’re too young.’
‘Not ever. Never, you idiot.’
‘Never is a long time.’
Natalie sat up. ‘Shut up.’
‘I think it’s your wit and biting, incisive commentary I love most about you.’ He was smiling again, and he looked more like Tom.
‘Shut—’
He put his finger up to silence her. ‘Okay, I will. Just remember this afternoon, Natalie. When you come back to me with another broken heart, and you’re thirty and over the hill, and you’ve had enough of the hunt, I’ll marry you.’
‘Right. Jolly good. Nice to know. Thanks, Tom.’
Blimey – did we really think thirty was over the hill? Sixteen years ago it had probably seemed it. From the other side, of course, it was pretty young.
He’d been laughing at her then. Perhaps she ought to call his bluff tonight. Go down on one knee, take him up on his offer. He probably wouldn’t remember – she was surprised she remembered herself. And it wasn’t exactly the subject matter that most made her want to chuckle right now.
The pub must be heaving – there was nowhere to park. Natalie drove the Corsa up on to the grass bank that ran alongside the cricket pitch and got out. Blimey, it was cold. She pulled her coat tightly round her, tucked her hair behind her ears and trotted towards the pub door. You could hear the noise, as you got closer, and there was a sort of Ready Brek orange glow coming from inside.
Like a warm blanket, the voices and hands of her old friends covered her.
‘Hiya, Nat!’
‘Happy New Year!’
‘How are you?’
‘Get you a drink?’
She realised she felt a little elated. People were pleased to see her, and it was good to see them. The cast of her childhood and adolescence. Like the theme tune – sometimes you wanna be where everybody knows your name. Clever old Tom.
And there he was. He always drank like that. Arms folded, with his pint balanced on the inside of one elbow. Tipping forwards and backwards a little on his heels. He was nodding and smiling at someone, and he didn’t see her for a few moments. Then someone backed away from the bar with a metal tray of drinks over their head, and he spotted her through the space. He winked and mouthed hello, and Natalie thought suddenly that she might cry.
Patrick and Lucy
Lucy heard Patrick coming back down the stairs, and came out into the hall. ‘Thanks for that, love. Success?’
‘Sort of. Ed is finally, three chapters later, asleep, but Bella is still insisting that at the great age of eight she’s old enough to stay up until midnight.’
‘What did you tell her?’
‘I told her awake was fine, that it was up we had a problem with.’
Lucy