A Hopeless Romantic Part 44

"Were you going to say Amy?" said Yorky, smiling at her.

"Well, yes," said Laura. "G.o.d."

"They're getting married, you know," Yorky said suddenly.

"Seriously?" said Laura. "When?"

"After the baby's born. Chris told me. I didn't know if you'd want to know or not."

"Oh, Yorks," said Laura. She patted his Sherlock Holmeslike sleeve. "Bless you. I think that's great. Good for them."

"Well, I hope so," said Yorky. "You okay?"

"Honestly, I am," said Laura. "I can't believe it was a year ago, you know. Almost exactly a year, that it all started up. Gosh, I was stupid."

"He was stupid, too," Yorky said loyally; as Laura made to protest, he added, "Yes, but you were pretty dim about it all."

"Hah," said Laura. "Oh, well."

There was a pause; they both kept on walking.

"Laura," said Yorky after a while. "I've been-want to ask you something."

"What?" said Laura.

"Well..." Yorky appeared to be in the early stage of a nervous tic. His face was twitching solemnly. They stood by the curb. "Look. The thing is...I want to ask Becky to move in with me."

"Oh," said Laura, and nearly walked out in front of a car.

Yorky grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "I'm sorry to spring it on you like this. I haven't asked her yet, you know. Wanted to see what you thought."

"Hm," said Laura, nodding.

"I know it's a bit soon," said Yorky. "It's only five months. But, you know something? I know it's right."

Laura nodded again. Yorky stood up straight.

"I keep thinking, all these years I've been mooning around after girls, hoping to get them to notice me, and Becky's been downstairs for the past two years, right under my nose, and I almost didn't do anything about it. And that's ridiculous. I'm sorry, it's awful to be kicking your best friend out into the street, but-can you see what I mean?"

"It's a bit of a shocker," she said eventually. "But that's great! Just great." She hugged Yorky. "I'm really pleased for you, man."

"It's not going to be for a couple of months," Yorky said. "She could say no, too-so don't pack your bags just yet."

"I won't," said Laura. "But I'm pretty sure she's not going to say no, Yorks."

He kissed her on the cheek. "You're the best, Laura. Thank you. I'm sorry, this is a bit of a c.r.a.p time to spring this on you, but-" His face brightened suddenly. "Hey! Simon's going to Peru in February, isn't he?" Laura nodded. "Couldn't you stay in your grandmother's flat for a bit?"

"I could," said Laura. They crossed the road. "But you know, I think it's time I moved on somewhere else. Grew up a bit. Bought a place of my own, maybe."

"Well," said Yorky.

"Or I could just move into Becky's flat," said Laura, half joking, but Yorky thought it was a great idea, the simplest solution to the problem, and Laura spent the rest of the walk to the station persuading him that if she needed a change, moving downstairs wasn't necessarily it.

When they reached the Tube, they went their separate ways. "Thanks again," said Yorky, patting her arm. "Just for being pleased for me, even if you're not."

"I am pleased for you," Laura said honestly. "I really am." She took her book out of her bag. "Right. You'd better go, isn't that your train?"

"What's this?" said Yorky, holding up her copy of Regency Buck. "Back on the Georgette Heyers again, Laura? Oh, no...." His face paled, and Laura s.n.a.t.c.hed the book back.

"I know what I'm doing this time," she said, nodding wisely. "Seriously! Everything in moderation."

Yorky nodded, unconvinced.

"I'm reading Trainspotting next, for a bit of balance," said Laura, pushing him away. "Now, go! You'll be late!"

She watched him run down the tunnel, and smiled as she walked to her own platform, shivering in the cold. She thought of Dan and Amy, engaged. Dan, on this platform months ago, waiting for her, and it could have been for another person. It was, really. She was older. Not necessarily wiser, not necessarily fundamentally different. But...she'd changed, she knew that. Whether for the better or not, she wasn't sure. She wasn't necessarily happier than she had been, she thought, as she sat down on the bench she and Dan used to share. Then she considered it again. Yes, she was happier, she realized. Happy by herself, happy not to depend on the heady rush of a new crush to buoy her up. She laughed a little to herself-how boring that sounded for a girl who'd loved and lost one of the most eligible men in the country-and picked up Regency Buck. Sometimes fantasy was better than reality. In moderation, as she'd a.s.sured Yorky. Obviously.

It was a Friday. All through the day, as Laura fielded calls and tapped away at her computer, she kept thinking about Yorky, about leaving the flat. It made her feel sad, but at the same time she knew it was time to move on, for both of them. To have thought, a year ago, Yorky would be about to ask a girl to move in with him-and she might say yes. Laura couldn't wait to discuss it with Jo. It was wonderful-but weird at the same time.

Laura left work on the dot of five-thirty. She poked her head into Rachel's office on the way out. "I'm off," she said, waving. "Have a lovely weekend. I e-mailed you next year's school term dates."

Rachel looked up from her desk, where she was applying some lipstick. "Are you going, already?" she said, astonished.

Laura came farther into the office. "Yes. I'm sorry-I hope that's okay?"

"Of course it is!" Rachel said, pleased. She smacked her lips together, and smoothed down her dark mulberry-colored shirt. "Laura, you haven't left before seven for weeks. This is great!"

"Oh," said Laura. "Phew." She eyed her boss curiously. "What are youoh, my G.o.d. You've got a date, haven't you?"

"Yes..." Rachel said, blushing rosily. "Maybe...not sure."

"It's with Marcus!" said Laura. "It is! Oh, my G.o.d! Is it tonight? Second date?"

Rachel and Marcus had been on a date the week before. Laura had not had particularly high hopes, given her previous experience with him, but she'd encouraged Rachel to go. She clapped her hands in excitement. "Oh, my G.o.d. Wow! You never said, you just said it went okay and you weren't sure!"

"Well," said Rachel crossly. "It was okay. It was really nice, actually. I just didn't want to go around yelling about it. Now, shush, stop getting overexcited."

"No!" yelled Laura again. She collected herself. "Sorry. Wow. Where are you going?"

"Some corporate thing at the Opera House," said Rachel uncertainly. "It's through his work, some German bank. We're meeting for a gla.s.s of something beforehand."

Laura's heart sank, recognizing the signs. "Oh," she said.

"Yes," said Rachel. She looked solemn. "I can't believe he's asked me. Lucky me."

"Lucky you," echoed Laura, smiling, and she felt her throat constrict with emotion, though she didn't really understand why. "Well, we-er, we love Marcus. I'm sorry, by the way," she said. "Can you tell him I'm sorry I haven't been in touch? Since he got back? You know, Granny's funeral and everything. I hope he got my letter, saying thank you for the money."

"I don't know," said Rachel. "That's the funny thing. I mentioned the donation last time. Tried to say something about it. You know what he said?"

"No," said Laura.

"He said he didn't know anything about it."

"What?"

"Yeah." Rachel brushed some bronzer onto her cheek. "I keep meaning to ask someone about it, actually. Haven't done. I mean, the money's there, it's all fine. So I just never thought..."

"That's weird," said Laura.

"It is weird, isn't it?" said Rachel, her face clouding momentarily. "But I think Clare must have sorted it out, off her own bat. Not Marcus. Which means..."

Which means my date with him actually was a total waste of time, thought Laura, smiling to herself. It seemed like a long time ago now. Funny.

"Have a lovely weekend," Rachel called as she left.

Laura walked out onto the street, into the cold December air, and caught a bus, which she didn't usually, but she wanted to see the Christmas lights across town. Yorky was staying the night with Becky, and she was having Jo and Hilary over for supper. So, Marcus Sussman and Rachel. Yorky moving in with Becky. Well, well, well. She sat on the bus as it b.u.mped slowly up Tottenham Court Road and looked out the window, drinking in the bustling, energetic, aggravating sea of humanity below her, people on their way home, people on their way out. She was happy just to gaze and plan the menu for tonight in her head, happy to let the week's events, the day at work wash over her.

When she got back to her dark, cold flat, Laura turned on all the lights, unpacked the food, put on a CD, and started cooking. Soon the kitchen was filled with a warm, spicy fug, as Laura absorbed herself in what she was doing, chopped and fried and sauteed and mixed in complete happiness. She was just finishing off and thinking she should start to set the table, when she dropped a spoon into the ca.s.seroled sauce of the lamb shanks by mistake; it splashed everywhere, and Laura cursed, feeling some of it hit her face.

"Ouch," she said, licking her cheek experimentally and grabbing a tea towel. "b.o.l.l.o.c.ks," she said, as she looked at the clock and realized it was seven-thirty and they'd be here soon. Jo was always, always bang on time. The downstairs doorbell rang. "s.h.i.t!" she said, dabbing her face with the towel and walking toward the intercom; this wasn't working out and she'd wanted it to, just for once.

"h.e.l.lo," she said, licking her lips as she spoke into the intercom.

There was a crackle, then silence. Then a low, familiar voice said, "Laura. It's Nick. Can I come up?"

chapter fifty-four.

W hat?" said Laura, her hand flying to her cheek. "Who?"

"It's me, Nick. I'm coming up."

"You-"

"Thanks," came Nick's voice more indistinctly, and she heard someone in the background say, "You want come in, boy? Come in."

"Mr. Kenzo!" Laura said loudly into the speaker. She dropped the phone so it hung off the wall, and opened the door. She stood there for what seemed like hours, but of course it was only a few seconds, hearing voices growing louder as they approached; and eventually, Mr. Kenzo and Nick appeared together on Laura's landing.

"h.e.l.lo, Laura!" said Mr. Kenzo happily. "Your friend, he was outside, I've let him in! Good evening, sir."

"Good evening," said Nick. "Thank you for the recommendation."

"What?" said Laura, standing aside to usher him into the flat, as Mr. Kenzo unlocked his door.

"I want to go to Marmaris, and your neighbor was kindly explaining when is the best time to go," said Nick imperturbably.

"You want to go to...?" Laura said helplessly. "Get in."

"Bye," said Mr. Kenzo loudly as she shut the door. "Goodbye!"

"h.e.l.lo," said Nick, as Laura shut the door and leaned against it, staring at him.

"You're in my flat," said Laura, not knowing what else to say.

"Well spotted," said Nick. "Is this the sitting room?"

"No," said Laura. "Oh. I-yes. I mean, yes."

"It's really nice," said Nick.

"I'm moving out, actually," said Laura. "I'm being kicked out."

"Well, it's not that nice, then," he said. "Right. Aren't you going to offer me a drink or anything?"

Laura said nothing, just carried on looking at him, leaning against the door. "What are you doing here?" she said after a while.

"You told me to come and collect my dinner jacket, Laura."

"That was over a month ago," said Laura. "And I didn't tell you. I told your mother to tell you."

"Well, I had to discuss it with her. Think about it for a while." His eyes were warm, full of laughter. "Can I have a drink? Just water, if you don't have anything else? It's been a long drive."

She didn't know what to say, was unable to process the request. She said stupidly, "Why are you here?"

"Well, this isn't quite the way I wanted to say it, but-I wanted to talk to you." He was looking at her, determined.

"About what?" said Laura, and then she remembered the lamb shanks, bubbling on the stove. "Argh," she cried, and ran into the kitchen. "Oh, dear. Open the door again, would you?"

The meat was caramelizing somewhat, a little crusty and fried around the edges. A moment later and it would have burned. Laura turned it off, and sat down at the kitchen table. Nick was in the doorway.

"You're here," she said again, helplessly.

"Oh, G.o.d, Laura," said Nick slightly impatiently. "If you're going to act like someone with learning difficulties, I'm going to wait outside."

"Okay, okay," said Laura. "Tell me, then. Tell me why you're here."

There was a pile of tea towels on the table; Yorky had taken them out of the washing machine and dumped them there. She started smoothing them out, folding them over and over.

Nick watched her and said nothing for a moment; then he walked toward her and leaned against the counter. He cleared his throat.

"I'm here to tell you I love you," he said matter-of-factly.

"What?" said Laura.