says Tim suddenly. He takes her by the shoulders and gazes at her as though he’s fallen in love with her all over again. “They’re stupendous. I’ll do everything on them. Just please don’t make me sleep in a bed with six children and ignore medical research.”
“Never!” says Hannah, laughing. “Although I could lighten up a little. I guess I am a bit of a…What did Iona call me? Controllagirl. All I did was wash up a couple of mugs for her,” she adds to me. “There was literally not one clean mug in her kitchen.”
“I love you, Controllagirl,” says Tim, kissing her, and I see Hannah’s face turn a happy, rosy pink.
“Right back at you, Controllaguy.”
“OK now, garlic press,” says Tim, abruptly changing gear. “We mustn’t forget. I’ll go and get one.”
He strides off in his determined way and I beam at Hannah.
“So! Everything’s OK again? Tim’s not freaked out anymore?”
“I’ll tell you what really freaked him out,” she responds. “The idea that someone could name their children Journey, Wisdom, and Blade.”
She catches my eye and starts giggling, and that sets me off, and soon the pair of us are in total fits. And I wasn’t planning to tell her, but as we’re both calming down I find myself saying, “So guess what? I’m seeing that guy later. The one who gave Ryan the job. Who had the accident. He wants to give me a present to say thank you.”
“Oh, him,” says Hannah, and I feel her eyes zoom in on me. “That’s nice.”
“Yes,” I say, trying to sound casual. “That’s what I thought. He didn’t need to.”
“But it’s not—” She hesitates. “He’s attached, right?”
“Oh, totally!” I say quickly. “Totally.”
I can tell Hannah’s slightly intrigued but isn’t going to push it. “Where are you meeting him?” she asks, and I give a wry laugh, because this is funny.
“Well. You’ll never guess.”
Seventeen
I have no idea why Seb has chosen Somerset House skating rink for our meeting. His ankle is injured. He can’t skate, surely. But that’s what he said, so that’s where I am. And I’ve got here early because…Well. Just to watch and enjoy.
It’s got to be the most Christmassy bit of London, this ice rink, surrounded by the grand, elegant façade of Somerset House. A spectacular Christmas tree is towering over everything and music is pounding through the air and people are laughing and calling to each other.
I’m sipping a hot chocolate, shivering slightly in the wintry breeze, mesmerized by the ice. I’m remembering what it felt like to sweep out on the rink to start a competition routine, all alone, chin up, heart pounding, and the smell of hairspray in my nostrils. (Mum always overdid the hairspray.) I mean, it’s madness when you think about it, trying to dance and jump on two perilous knife-edges. But when it goes right, when you land a big jump safely…it’s the most exhilarating feeling in the world.
A group of people are making their way onto the ice, laughing and pushing each other and taking selfies, and after a moment I realize that one of them is Briony. Which means Seb must be here. I swivel my head, looking all around, and suddenly spot him, wrapped up in a dark coat and checked scarf, sitting on a chair and watching the skaters with a pair of crutches at his side. I walk swiftly toward him and wave to attract his attention.
“Hi!” I say, and his face creases into a delighted smile.
“Hi!” he says, and starts struggling to his feet.
“Don’t be silly,” I say, gesturing at him to stay and crouching down beside him. “How are you? Your face looks a lot better,” I add, eyeing his cheeks and temple. The swelling has gone right down and he practically looks normal.
“Fun, this,” he says, nodding at the rink. “You ever do it?”
“I have done,” I say after a pause.
“Well, thanks for coming. I thought it would be a nice Christmassy place to meet.”
“Definitely!” I nod.
“You’re doing great!” Seb calls out to his friends, and they all wave back. For a few moments I watch Briony on the rink. She’s wearing a short white twirly skirt and a fur hat and she looks amazing, but her skating is abysmal. It’s actually worse than average, I decide, after watching her critically for a few minutes. She needs to slow down and stop flailing her arms, for a start.
Do her boots not fit? Or is she simply showing off too much? As soon