Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Yeah, but not in an afternoon with three layabout brothers in tow,” I say. “Why don’t we just go for a walk across the heath and find a pub? Chew the fat. Come home, order a takeaway. Job done.”
A silence descends on the room.
I look around and try to figure out why everyone’s so quiet.
“Who are you?” Dax asks eventually. “And what have you done with my brother?”
“What?” I ask, feeling a little defensive.
“You’re always up for adventure,” Jacob says.
“Not always. Some of the time I like to just have a nice quiet day.”
“When?” asks Jacob.
“When I’m in London. I’m not charging around on my days off, trying to find adventure. I do that when I’m away.”
“How’s the husky mushing plan coming along?” Nathan asks, his eyes narrowed as if he’s posed a trick question.
“What do you mean, how’s it coming along?” Truth be told, I haven’t thought about husky mushing in weeks.
“I mean, are you still planning on going?” Nathan asks.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” I haven’t decided not to go, I just haven’t put any definitive plans in place. When I do go, it will probably be for at least a month, maybe two. At the moment, I don’t feel the need to be somewhere else. The part of me forever seeking out the new and unfamiliar is dormant inside my head, happily snoozing the days away.
Maybe it’s Vivian.
Maybe it’s thinking about Everyone Adventures, which, despite my conversation with Nathan, I can’t completely turn away from.
“Well, Vivian of course,” Jacob says.
I shrug. “I’ve committed the next six weeks to her and then…”
“And then what?” Nathan asks. “You’re going to end things between you and go off husky mushing?” He makes it sound like the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.
“I don’t know.” Things with Vivian are good—better than good—but I’ve not let myself think about the future. Every time I do, the things Coral said to me, together with all the evidence from the last decade, send me hurtling back to the present. If I live in the now and don’t think ahead at all, I’m happy.
“But that was before you met Vivian,” Jacob says as if I’m being deliberately obtuse.
“Right…?” I say.
“But you’re not faking it,” Dax says. “I don’t know why you’re saying you’re her fake fiancé when you’re not faking it.”
“We’re not really engaged,” I say. “We’re just enjoying the moment. Neither of us is looking for anything serious.”
“But you’re with her. Like really with her,” Jacob says. “I’ve seen you with plenty of other women before and it’s obvious Vivian is different.”
I really don’t want to talk about this. I’m happy. In this moment. Today. That’s all I want to think about.
They don’t know about Coral. They didn’t need to, so I never mentioned her. And after what happened, there’s no way I’d give them ammunition like that to tease me for the rest of my life. “Vivian’s different because she’s American and she’s…famous.”
“That’s not it,” Dax says, and everyone turns to him. That’s the thing with Dax—he’s the youngest, but he always gets our attention when he gives his opinion because he’s usually right. “You like her.”
“Never said I didn’t like her,” I snap.
Jacob pipes up to fill the awkward silence descending on the room. “I know where we need to go.”
It’s cold. It’s raining. And swimming in Hampstead ponds, in the freezing water, has nothing to recommend it in these conditions. Somehow Jacob convinced us that open-water swimming was what we needed. Luckily, Nathan only agreed on the promise that we’d go straight to the pub afterwards for a burger and a beer. And now we’re here, around a pub table, at the good part.
“It would have been better with wetsuits,” Dax says.
I reach across my chest to put my hand on my shoulder. The cold exacerbated the after-effects of the dislocation. “It still would have been cold,” I reply, circling the joint.
“You need to feel the cold,” Jacob says. “That’s the point. It really helps the clarity of thought.”
It didn’t help me. My shoulder was fine before the swim, and my mind was too. I like Vivian, full stop. I like watching her play the piano and seeing the expression on her face as she sings about heartbreak and rebirth. I like watching the way she handles herself with other people—how she was delighted to peel apples and chat to my mum about Bach. I like how her breakup seems to have fueled something in her rather than made her bitter. I like her focus, the way she knows exactly what she’s here on this earth to do.
And I like how she feels by my side, in my arms and underneath me.
But so what? We live in two different worlds and we were never meant to be any more than a fake relationship.