thrown around a lot,’ he muttered as he suddenly became very interested in his own feet. ‘I don’t like to rush it.’
‘It’s OK, I know you don’t love me,’ I said, pressing the book back into his hands. ‘You never did. You loved how much I loved you and that’s very much not the same thing.’
It was strange, to be standing there, looking at Patrick Parker, all sad-eyed in the rain. Too many of my fantasies had started this way. But this was definitely an ending, not a beginning.
‘I wish you would give us a chance,’ he said, even though he was already tucking the book away inside his jacket. ‘I know you, Ros, you’ll regret this.’
‘That’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t know me at all.’ I moved in towards him and rested my hands against his lapels, looking up into his light blue eyes. ‘I was never really me when I was with you. That was a sort of edited version of me and I don’t think I’d be happy if I had to be her all the time.’
‘Do you remember the first time we met? Do you remember how it was in the beginning?’ he murmured as he tilted his chin down towards me, playing his last hand. ‘Give me another chance. Whatever it is you want, you can have it.’
I shook my head. He wasn’t listening. As usual.
‘I think I already have everything I need.’
With a tiny tug on his lapels, I kissed him on the cheek and took a step backwards into the pouring rain, leaving Patrick Parker in the past.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I went back into the wedding, swiping at myself with half a dozen napkins and skipping around the edges of the party to avoid my friends. I needed a moment, just a moment, to myself.
The chain that had been wrapped around the door to the roof terrace was gone, I realized, as I made my way to the other end of the room. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I pushed on the bar that opened the door and felt it give, slipping outside by myself. The rain couldn’t make its mind up, slowing down to a light drizzle with a bright blue sky above. I searched for a rainbow but couldn’t find one.
The view from the terrace was a beauty. All of London, new and old, sparkling fresh, straight out of the shower and shining just for me. Along the riverbank, different-coloured umbrellas danced around each other, streaming past the Golden Hinde, the Globe, all the way down to the Tate Modern. Across the Thames, St Paul’s was almost glowing in the sun, thankful for its long-awaited bath. On my right, I saw the Tower of London battling for attention with The Shard. Centuries-old stone, competing with a decade’s worth of glass and steel, past versus progress, separated by a river and somehow managing to co-exist.
‘Oh, it’s you.’
I heard the door open behind me and turned to see John stepping out onto the terrace. I smiled and turned back to my city.
‘I was on my way to give someone a bollocking but, since it’s you, I’ll let you off. I haven’t got the permits to open this up yet, I don’t want anyone falling to their death,’ he said, leaning against the low railing beside me. ‘Ros, you’re wet through. Here.’
He shrugged off his warm jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders like a blanket.
‘I don’t want to ruin it,’ I protested, even as I pulled it around myself. I hadn’t realized how cold I was until someone offered me a chance to get warm.
John waved away my concern and moved to stand beside me, resting his forearms on the railing to gaze out over London.
‘I just met your mum,’ he said. ‘She’s really lovely.’
‘Yeah,’ I nodded, smiling warmly. ‘She is. I’m lucky.’
‘She reminded me a lot of my mum …’ he added before letting the thought trail away. ‘What are you doing out here? I thought I saw you leaving.’
‘I went out to make a call, got wet, came back,’ I explained. ‘I came out here to think.’
‘About?’
I inhaled, wondering how much to share. It had been easy to talk to him before, when he was the married, slightly annoying bartender. But now he was someone completely different and I wasn’t sure how but the rules had changed.
‘I was thinking how annoyed the Tower of London must be,’ I said, pointing down at the old fortress. ‘You know, you’re just there,