The Bucket List to Mend a Broken Heart (32 page)

The lift creaks into action and whizzes us God knows how many metres above the ground. Too many to think about. There’s no turning back now.

We decided to give
the first floor a miss, not only would it mean walking up stairs when my legs are already aching from all of today’s sightseeing, but it would also mean I’d almost certainly chicken out of going up any higher.

Having looked at the diagram of the different stages at the bottom, I’d decided I’m not brave enough for the top of the tower – the thought of both the height and the glass elevator that
takes you up to it reduced my legs to jelly.

When we reach our floor I let the others get off first, before I slowly make my way out of the lift. I get about a foot or two outside before stopping.

I’m hit first by the wind that whistles round my ears. It feels so much colder up here. Maybe it’s psychological. Or maybe it’s simply that dusk has given way to nightfall while we were queuing to
get up here.

The whole of Paris is coated in a blanket of darkness with twinkling lights that look like giant strings of fairy lights. It’s breathtaking. For a minute I’m so mesmerised by the view that it takes me a while to get a sense of how high up we are. When I do, I start to stagger backwards, getting as far away from the edge as I can.

‘Are you OK?’ asks Ben. He instinctively grabs my
arm and I cling on to him with both hands and pull him towards me.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I whisper, a slight stammer to my voice, my fear clearly evident.

‘Isn’t it?’ says Ben looking round.

I know my hands are clammy and sweaty and my nails are probably digging into Ben’s arms, but I can’t move them. He’s like my safety blanket. I feel OK as long as I’m clinging onto him for dear life.

‘Shall
I take your photo?’ he asks.

‘I can’t let go,’ I say, suddenly terrified that he’s going to move.

He pulls his camera out and slips his other arm round my waist before spinning me round gently. He lifts his arm out and takes another selfie of us.

‘It’s not like we’re going to see anything anyway,’ he says, laughing. ‘It’ll just come out black behind us.’

‘So we could have taken a photo anywhere
and pretended.’

‘I did give you the option.’

‘I know. But I’m actually OK.’

‘I think my arm would say otherwise.’

I automatically release my grip but stay huddled into him.

‘I’ll keep you safe,’ he says. ‘It’s a bit easier like this than with you threatening to break my skin with your nails.’

He’s smiling and I know he’s not serious. For one thing the hoodie he’s wearing is way too thick
for me to be able to break the skin under it, but having someone holding him in a Chinese burn can’t have been the most comfortable thing.

‘Do you want to see the rest of the views?’ asks Ben.

‘I don’t think I can go any higher,’ I say honestly.

‘I meant walking round the outside.’

He drops his arm but before I can panic he takes my hand and gently leads me round the platform.

‘Now don’t
squeeze too hard, I can’t ride a bike with one hand.’

I giggle and try to loosen my grip.

‘Can’t you ride a bike one-handed? I’m sure I can.’

‘Abi, the bike-riding expert.’

I mentally try and picture myself riding one-handed and I think back to the cycling proficiency I had to take at school.

‘What about when you need to signal?’

Ben laughs and leans down closer to my ear. ‘I’ll let you
into a secret. I can ride no-handed. But still please don’t bugger up my hand.’

‘Wow, no-handed. You’re my hero,’ I say, joking and tilting my head playfully.

Ben turns towards me and his hand gravitates to my free one and we suddenly find ourselves facing one another with our hands swinging in the breeze.

If ever there was a perfect moment for a first kiss, then this would be it. It’s so cheesily
romantic and perfect that I almost want to laugh at the irony that I’m here in this position with Ben. But I don’t. I keep my head tilted and look straight into his eyes.

Blimey, the pheromones that this city is pumping must be emanating from here as it feels as if they’ve been kicked up a notch.

‘Do you two want your photo taken?’ asks an American woman as she walks past us, smiling. ‘Y’all
look so cute up here.’

I smile and feel my cheeks blush.

‘That would be lovely,’ says Ben. ‘Might be nice to have a photo of us where I don’t have some sort of mutant arm in the picture.’

‘Go back against the railings,’ says the woman, taking Ben’s camera from him.

I’m about to protest about moving from the safety of the inside of the tower, but Ben starts gently leading me back. I dread to
think how close to the edge we are. I start to shake, but he pulls me in close and puts both of his arms around me.

‘Say cheese,’ says the woman.

I barely mumble something, too unsure as to whether I’m nervous about being near the edge or being so close to Ben.

The woman snaps away and finally content she hands the camera back to us.

‘Y’all are such a photogenic couple. Have a great rest of
your trip,’ she says before shuffling off.

I try and mutter that we’re not a couple, but I can’t quite get the words out.

‘Do you think Joseph will be suitably jealous of your trip now?’ asks Ben, releasing me from the bear hug and leading me back towards the safety of the wall.

For a minute I realise that I haven’t even been thinking about Joseph since we got up here, and it breaks the spell
I’m under as it hits me that nothing romantic is going to happen with Ben. He’s got Tammy and I’m hopefully going to get Joseph back. Whatever I’m feeling isn’t real, it’s just the city getting under my skin. It’s all those cheesy rom-coms I’ve watched and books I’ve read.

‘I’ve had enough,’ I say. ‘Can we go back down?’

I’ve got to get away from this romantic setting. We’re due back at the
station soon for our train home, and right now the dingy railway station with its grime and shifty-looking characters is exactly what I need to purge these thoughts of Ben from my brain.

Ben leads me back down to the lifts and we descend the tower in silence. I look at him as he stares down at the floor and I wonder if he felt the same way I did in that moment where I wanted to kiss him. Or was
he thinking about his girlfriend?

‘You all right?’ he asks as he catches me looking at him.

I blush and cough. ‘Yes, fine. Just thinking back over today,’ I say, lying.

‘It’s been a great day,’ he says, smiling. ‘I can’t believe how much we packed in.’

‘I know. I’m going to be exhausted at work tomorrow.’

‘Yeah. At least I’ve got an easy day in the shop. My dad’s coming down so I can always
hide out the back pretending to do inventory while taking a sneaky sleep.’

‘Lucky you.’

‘I thought you’d taken the morning off?’

‘I’d planned to, but after the debacle with that hotel client last week I cancelled it. I’m trying to prove to Rick that I’m all conscientious by working long hours. It’s not even like I could work from home.’

I’m still not brave enough to do that after my letter
from HR.

We get out of the lift and try to orientate ourselves before walking in the direction of the metro.

‘Well, you can have a sleep on the journey home. That’ll give you about four hours to drool on my shoulder.’

‘Oi,’ I say, giving him a shove.

He shoves me back and I feel like we’re drunk teenagers.

He grabs my arms and holds them above my head so I can’t hit him any more.

‘That’s
not fair,’ I say, wriggling and laughing.

He looks at me, smiling back. ‘I don’t like to play by the rules.’

He holds my gaze and I suddenly feel like he’s going to kiss me. He actually leans down towards me.

I turn my head and Ben drops my arms.

‘Shouldn’t we be getting back to the station, our train will be going soon,’ I say, ignoring what was just about to happen.

It seems it’s not only
me that’s getting carried away in the city of love.

‘Yes, you’re probably right,’ he says, clearing his throat. ‘We don’t want to miss it or else we’ll never make the train back down to Pompey.’

I wish we could click our fingers and get home. It’s such a long way. By the time we get back on the train to St Pancras and then a couple of tube changes to Waterloo, we still have another hour and
a half on the train down to Portsmouth. It all seemed so easy when we were booking it, but I’m absolutely exhausted from our sightseeing extravaganza.

‘So, that’s another thing ticked off the list, then,’ says Ben.

‘I know,’ I say, realising it’s my last challenge with him and therefore the last legitimate reason – according to Tammy – to see him.

‘Have you given any more thought to your own
list?’

‘A little,’ I say. In truth, I’ve done a lot of thinking. Since the other day when we were talking in the pub, I’ve started to think about what I really want. And not just what would be on mine and Joseph’s joint bucket list, but what would make me happy.

‘You have? What’s on it?’

I feel a bit silly saying my list out loud. It was one thing passing Joseph’s off as my own, but that was
already honed and crafted.

‘Come on, I’m not going to laugh.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise,’ says Ben as we head down into the metro station and work out which direction we’re going in.

‘OK. I want to learn to bake. I don’t mean get to
Great British Bake Off
standard, but I would like to be able to make a pastry without having to buy it ready-made, and I’d love to make a scone that wasn’t rock hard.’

‘And what else?’

‘I enjoyed being outdoors when I went windsurfing, but thought it was a bit physical, so I’d sort of maybe like to learn to sail.’

I’m wrinkling my face up as I keep expecting Ben to heckle, as by his adrenaline-junkie standards that is pretty tame.

‘You couldn’t live in a more perfect city to learn. I think they do lessons at the outdoor centre.’

‘They do,’ I say, nodding.

Our train comes in and we jump on board.

‘What else?’

‘That’s as far as I’ve got so far.’

It’s pathetic, I know that it’s so short, but it’s not that I don’t want to do more, it’s that I’m not sure what I want to do. I know that I want to do more travelling, but I don’t know where. I need to do some proper research.

‘Well, you’ve not got long before Joseph’s list is over and you’ll be starting
your own.’

‘No,’ I say, thinking about what that means in terms of both my fate with Joseph and my friendship with Ben.

I don’t want to think of that now. I don’t want to ruin what’s been a perfect day.

‘What a wonderful day,’ I say, more to myself than Ben.

‘It really was,’ says Ben. He gives me a look similar to the one he gave me at the bottom of the Eiffel Tower.

I look out the window
into the dark train tunnel as if watching the passing scenery. I can’t bring myself to look in his eyes.

The sooner we get to the Eurostar and get back home, the sooner this city and all its bloody romance will stop clouding my mind with thoughts of Ben, and I can focus on the man I really want – Joseph.

Chapter Twenty-Three

A week tomorrow until the abseil. No more challenges left, no excuse thought of, no Joseph coming back to me – looks like I’ve got no choice but to go through with it . . .

‘I can’t believe you have a boyfriend,’ I say to Sian as I put on my lipstick.

I look at her in the mirror, sitting on my bed. She looks different. She looks . . . happy. There’s a warmth in her eyes
that I haven’t seen before, and there’s definitely more smiling than scowling.

‘I don’t have a boyfriend. We haven’t had that talk yet.’

‘
Yet
. So you’re going to have it,’ I say, turning to her. My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling. I didn’t think it was possible to be so happy about someone else’s love life. I’ve been waiting so long for it.

Since our impromptu pub crawl last weekend,
Sian has been on three dates with Pete. For once she’s kept her knickers on. Apparently they’re getting to know each other before they do the deed.

It’s only a matter of time before they’re officially an item.

I just can’t believe how quickly it’s all happened. She’s gone from the queen of one-night stands, to a veritable ice maiden, to picking my brains about where’s best for romantic picnics.

‘Right, are you ready?’ asks Sian as she stands up from the bed and grabs her bag.

I recognise that look in her eyes. It’s the one that I used to get when I was on my way to Joseph’s. That absolutely-can’t-wait-to-see-them look.

‘Yes,’ I say, putting on my jacket and flicking my hair out of the collar. I’m going to have to get it cut again soon. I’ve grown quite attached to my bob, but my hair’s
grown so much that it’s almost reaching my shoulders.

‘Great.’

It’s Friday night and we’re meeting Pete, Ben and the rest of the Snowdon crew at a nearby pub. On the walk over Sian treats me to a blow-by-blow account of her date. Luckily with no bedroom antics to hear about I can for once relax and listen to her story without cringing my way through.

Much to Sian’s disappointment we’re the
first to arrive at the King Street Tavern. We secure a round table with a good view of the door, despite the fact that the pub is fairly small and it would be hard not to spot to us wherever we sat.

Sian heads off to the bar to get us a drink and I busy myself with my phone. Ben emailed me the photos of Paris this afternoon and I posted them straight to Facebook. I can’t resist having another
look at them. They’re mainly of me, but there are a couple of our joint selfies.

I look at my notifications, and see that people have liked my photos. I check out the list of who and I’m taken aback. It takes me a minute for the words ‘Joseph Small has commented on your photo’ to sink in.

My hands start to shake as I click on the little icon. Damn my sweaty fingers – the touchscreen won’t register
my swiping. I wipe my fingers on my jeans and give it another go, and this time it takes me through to the page.