Chapter 12
TWELVE
I don't know what to do when I leave the hotel that night. As it's Christmas and a Saturday, it's murder getting an Uber or flagging down a black cab so I leave the hotel and start walking. I can always jump on the Tube or a bus and make it up as I go along. I'm resourceful like that and even though I look broader than usual, having two coats is a good thing; I can take on the Arctic like this. There is something lovely about weaving through the Strand and parts of Covent Garden this time of night though, and at this time of year. Throngs of theatregoers are pouring out of buildings, partygoers are headed merrily to the next pub, restaurants are full and thriving. Everyone accessorises for the season with either antlers, sequins or Santa hats, the faint melodies of Christmas music tripping down the streets and across the river. And as always, the glow of this wonderful city beams from every lamppost, fairy light and window. We're all too merry, too joyful to feel the cold now. Christmas is just around the corner and we can't bloody wait. I look down at my phone again to see if I can get any more luck with an Uber and notice a message sitting there, unread.
How's it all going? Please tell Frank I'm sorry about the eyebrow thing again.
I smile and dial the sender.
‘Hello? Maggie?' a bleary voice replies.
‘Oh dear, Leo. I hope you're happy with yourself.'
‘What's happened?' I say, hearing him shuffling in the background. ‘Is Frank OK?'
‘Banned from all the family photos for his carpaccio eyebrows. One waiter was so shocked to see him, he dropped a whole tray of champagne. He had to sit on a table on his own as no one could bear to look at him.' I love how I can play these things so straight.
‘You're not funny,' he says, but I can hear the smile in his voice.
I come to a crossing and wait for the lights to change, standing outside a confection shop called Le Manger , with its frosted windows and white boxes tied with gold ribbons.
‘I am. None of you lads have truly realised my comic genius yet, that's all. It's been a lovely day. I put concealer on Frank to hide the eyebrow disaster. His family are just as horrific as we'd guessed though.'
‘Did you help him with that?' he asks.
‘To a point. Frank lied to them and told him I was his girlfriend so I played along.'
‘How did that pan out? Did you have to snog Frank?' he asks uncertainly.
‘Urgh, no. I linked arms with him occasionally and…bigged him up, shall we say?' I smile to myself without giving too much away, skipping across the street as the lights change colour. It's a clear night, my toes may not forgive me this, but I need to get to somewhere on the Central Line so I can attempt to get closer to home. I notice a taxi whizz past with its light on and put my arm out. The driver shakes his head at me. ‘Damn. '
‘Damn because you wanted to snog Frank?' Leo says on the other end of the phone.
‘No, damn because it's murder trying to get a taxi tonight,' I tell him.
‘You've left the wedding?' he asks me. ‘Are you on your own? You OK?'
‘I'm good. It was time to leave,' I tell him, grateful for the concern. ‘But I'm going to have a stroll through London, hopefully jump on a Tube. Take it all in.'
I hear him laughing under his breath. ‘I used to do that when I first came to London.'
‘Really?'
‘I grew up in a small town so it took some getting used to. I just liked to walk around at night, especially in the summer, sit by the river with a pint and work it all out.'
I can picture him doing that. There's always been a look in his face like he wants to observe and absorb the world in his own time.
‘It's a good city to have a wander in sometimes. I always marvel at the things I've not seen, places I haven't been even though I've lived here all my life,' I tell him.
‘Well, where haven't you been?' he asks me.
‘The London Eye, for example. Never done it. I should though. I'm a sucker for a view.'
‘Noted. So whereabouts are you?' he asks me.
‘I'm crossing through Covent Garden, and I'll try and jump on the Central Line,' I tell him.
‘So why was it the right time to leave? Were you a nuisance? Did you get thrown out?' he asks.
‘No. There was a girl there who's like an old family friend. I think there's potential so I left our boy to make a move.'
‘Our Frank?' he says, mildly surprised.
‘It's unbearably cute. Her name is Norah.'
‘Norah and Frank. They sound about eighty. '
I laugh. And in a complete coincidence, an older couple walk past me, huddled together for warmth, looking smart. Him in a felt fedora, her in a statement pearl necklace, both in matching leather gloves, like they've just taken in a show or been out to eat. They smile at me and I beam back. ‘They like walks in the park, slipper shoes and doing crosswords in bed.'
‘Is that the dream then for you in your old age?'
‘Absolutely. I've been in heels all day, slipper shoes sound like heaven.'
I take a turn down a road, headed right into the heart of Covent Garden. I may as well experience it once this Christmas. I head down a little cobbled street, windows packed with Christmas gift ideas: watches, trainers and designer handbags, all in displays with snow, holly and robins.
‘What else are you wearing then?'
I pause for a moment outside a lingerie shop and blush. ‘Leo, did you seriously just ask me that question?'
‘Oh my god…not like that…I was only being…'
I try and laugh it off to diffuse the awkwardness and keep walking. ‘You're a dedicated follower of wedding fashion, that's all.'
‘Exactly that.'
‘Well, that's an even funnier story. Turns out I showed up in exactly the same dress as all the other bridesmaids today.'
‘Noooo…Did they make you walk down the aisle?' he asks.
‘Actually…'
‘Noooo… What colour?'
‘Red.'
I turn into Covent Garden. It's like a big beating festive heart of light, scents and activity. It will never lose its magic but I'm glad to be walking by this evening. People carry large bags of shopping, and inside the piazza, giant bells hang off the ceiling, radiant in gold and red, and I hear echoes of a brass band playing carols for all. I scooch past a group of tourists, all with their phones in the air.
‘You look good in red. You've got that red cardigan you wear…' his voice trails off as he realises he's said too much. I bite my lip to hear him fumbling. It's very unlike Leo, he's usually straight to the point. I can't quite work out if he's flirting or simply stating facts. ‘Like Santa.'
I giggle. ‘Yes, Santa was my inspiration when I got ready today for sure. It was actually a dress I borrowed from a friend. Her name is Gemma.'
‘And she's just had a baby?' he says. ‘You wrapped a gift for the baby last month at work.'
‘I did,' I say, pleasantly surprised that he remembered the connection.
‘And how is that baby?' he asks.
‘Hungry. His name is Harry.'
‘Like Prince Harry?' he asks.
‘More like she's obsessed with Harry Styles.'
I hear him laughing. I take a turning past the main market building and head towards one of the side roads, milling through the overspill of a pub where people stand with pints and vapes, wearing Christmas hats, pretending they're enjoying themselves.
‘Any chance you could stop for a hot drink somewhere?' he asks me. ‘I can literally hear your teeth chattering.'
I emit a shuddered laugh. The alcohol is starting to wear off. I had thought the walking and double-coat situation would keep me warm but my toes are saying different.
‘Everywhere is kind of closed unless I go into a pub. I will endure. What are the first signs of frostbite?' I ask casually.
‘Pins and needles, discolouration, digits randomly falling off,' he reels off.
‘Then I'm fine. I will wait till I get home. I will use a cuppa and cake as my incentive.'
‘Wedding cake?' he asks me.
‘Yes. Don't tell anyone but I stole three pieces,' I tell him, pulling a face but happily swinging a gift bag in my hands.
‘Three?' he says. I can't tell if he's appalled. It was in a pyramid piled high by the doors and no one was about. It was also red velvet and that stuff is both rare and expensive anywhere else.
‘It was wrapped so fancy. I couldn't resist. I'm saving it for when I get home with a cup of tea.'
‘Proper party animal then?' he says.
‘I may eat the cake with my hands, watch this space.'
I smile to hear him laughing again. I cross over Covent Garden, past a group of drunken Christmas revellers wrapped in tinsel, in a joint chorus of ‘Do They Know It's Christmas?' One of them takes my hand, trying to twirl me under his arm. I oblige and send him on his way.
‘It sounds busy there,' Leo says.
‘It is festive bedlam but maybe in the best possible way. I'm sticking to the busy routes so I feel safer. Are you in bed then?' I ask him.
‘I am,' he replies hesitantly. ‘And there's you telling me off for being mildly inappropriate.'
I laugh, walking past a huge white stone theatre front, the last of the theatregoers waiting on the steps, clutching on to programmes.
‘I was just being curious. I am also envious. I would do anything to be there, right now.' I say. ‘In bed. A bed, any bed. Not your bed,' I say to clarify. ‘Though your bed was very comfortable on that one occasion I did sleep in it.'
‘You liked my sheets if I remember,' he reminds me.
‘I did. Well remembered.'
‘I have the same ones on tonight.'
‘And what are you wearing?' I ask him. I don't quite know where that's come from. Blame the dregs of wedding alcohol in my system or the fact I feel comfortable enough to make that joke with him but I bite my lip, hoping I haven't overstepped.
‘I'm in bed. I'm in my pants. Is this the part where you ask me what I'm doing?' he jokes. I freeze for a moment. Are we doing this because I'm outside? I panic, if my cheeks were blushing before, they're now ablaze like the space in between Frank's eyebrows. He's joking. He must be. ‘What are you doing?'
‘I'm walking through London, freezing my tits off. I've just watched a man pee on a bike rack,' I tell him.
‘Well, I'm holding…the TV remote…' he replies and I breathe a sigh of relief. I wasn't sure I was ready for that or how I felt about that at all. I can hear him laughing on the other end of the phone.
‘What are you watching?' I ask him, smiling.
‘Did you think I was watching porn?' he says chuckling.
‘NOOO! I am purely curious about your viewing habits.'
I hear him adjust himself in his bed. ‘Oh, it's almost the very opposite. I've always liked to put on a nature documentary as I'm about to fall asleep. I find them calming. Not sure why.'
I pause, rooted to the spot on this very quiet street, looking up at the stars overhead, seeing how the cloud has cleared and they shine so very bright. ‘I reckon it's Attenborough's voice,' I murmur.
‘Yeah, probably,' he says, completely unaware of what he's told me. He goes quiet for a moment. ‘Great, yep…'
‘Hello?' I say, confused.
‘You anywhere near Parker Street?' he asks me. ‘I think I've just found you a ride home. I have a million taxi apps on my phone.'
I open up maps on my phone. ‘Like literally round the corner,' I tell him, a little shocked. ‘You did that for me?'
‘Well, I'm at home in the warm and I thought I'd help you out. You still live in Shepherd's Bush, yeah? You'll have to give him your exact address.' I stand there smiling to think he was doing that in the background while we were talking, that he was looking out for me on this cold Christmas evening. ‘Let me ping you the licence plate number, you're looking for Jesus.'
‘Festive. Will I literally be riding home on a donkey?' I giggle and he laughs in return. ‘Can I pay you back?' I ask him.
‘In cash?' he replies tentatively.
‘Have we got inappropriate again?' I say. ‘I can ping some money over or maybe we can bill it to Frank?'
He laughs again. ‘Or maybe this is part of my Christmas gift to you. I'd rather you get home safely. You did a good thing for Frank today. Well done, Maggie.' I stand there smiling to hear the compliment. I also realise in that moment how much I like hearing him say my name. ‘Nearly there?' he asks me.
‘Yep,' I say, picking up my pace.
‘So tell me more about this wedding.' I hear him adjust himself in his bed and I picture him curled around a pillow, the duvet hanging over the curve of his shoulder.
‘What do you want to know?' I ask him.
‘Start with the ceremony?'
‘Oh, there were birds…' I say, a little too animatedly.
‘Birds?'
I turn into Parker Street and see a car halfway down, his hazard warning lights on. I check the licence plate with what Leo's given me. I move towards it, smiling. ‘Yep. Real bloody birds.'