The Road to Her (7 page)

“Thank you,” I said instead.

“I mean it.” Elise stared down at her glass, running her finger round the edge of it. “You’re a lot like Jasmine, you know.”

“What, goofy and a bit silly?” I laughed, taking another sip.

“No,” Elise said, watching me. “Just nice.” She began popping the bubbles from the surface of her champagne. “I think Jasmine’s very brave as well,” she said quietly. “Casey, too.”

“Brave?”

“To both know what they want and not be afraid to get it.”

“You mean because they want each other?” I asked, struck by the sudden seriousness of her tone.

“Mm.” She studied me carefully. “It must be nice to have the confidence to go for something—or someone—that you want.”

“You don’t strike me as lacking in too much confidence,” I said. “I mean that in the nicest possible way, of course.”

Elise dragged her eyes from mine. “Nah, I have buckets of confidence when it comes to my work,” she said, still popping her bubbles, “just not so much when it comes to other things.”

“Such as?”

“Never mind.” Elise drank the rest of her champagne back. “Alcohol makes me think too much sometimes.”

*

Long after Bella had left and Robbie had made out with his third girl of the evening, Elise and I finally fell out of the club at around four the next morning, blinking groggily at the hazy early morning light that took our eyes ages to adjust to. As we made our way unsteadily down the road, still busy with all the West End revellers, I was aware of a flashlight going off just to my right. I swung round and saw some guy standing less than twenty feet from us, with a camera in his hands. As I looked at him again, another flashlight went off, temporarily blinding me.

I stopped in my tracks and looked in bemusement at him, then turned and looked at Elise.

“Did we just get papped?” I asked her.

“I think we did, yeah.” Elise peered into the semi-darkness.

I looked at the pair of us, looking slightly dishevelled and more than a bit drunk, and dissolved into a fit of laughter, leaning against Elise for support. How ridiculous was that? That some newspaper would think readers would want to see a picture of us both coming out of a nightclub at four in the morning. What was even more ridiculous was that some paparazzo should have to spend his night sitting outside a club in the hope that he might get one, perhaps even two pictures of some celebrity falling out of it.

I could practically already see the headline:

SOAP STARS IN LATE-NIGHT SHOCKER—

PORTOBELLO ROAD
’S JASMINE AND CASEY
CAUGHT HAVING FUN!

Perish the thought!

“What kind of picture did they think they’d get at this time of the morning anyway?” I asked, walking with Elise away from the club, occasionally looking back over my shoulder to see if I could still see him.

“Probably disappointed that we didn’t kiss for them,” Elise said nonchalantly.

“What?” I turned and looked at her as we walked along.

“Well, c’mon!” Elise rolled her eyes. “That’s what they really want in a picture, isn’t it? Reality being blurred and all that.”

“S’pose,” I said, not fully understanding in my fog of drunkenness.

Still thinking about how stupid it had been to find ourselves photographed in the early hours of a Saturday morning coming out of a nightclub, Elise and I walked along the Thames together awhile, chatting about newspapers and the paparazzi and what a weird and wonderful business we both worked in.

It was approaching four thirty a.m. by the time we finally managed to hail a cab back to our respective apartments. We figured we’d share one to my place, then Elise would go on to hers in the same cab after I’d been dropped off, but once we starting moving off, Elise started shuffling uncomfortably in her seat, with a look on her face that suggested she was in pain.

We were both still drunk from the champagne, the night air having done little to sober us up. I looked at her, puzzled, as the cab drove on down to my apartment, which was no more than a five-minute ride from where we’d been picked up. Finally, not being able to stand her wriggling any longer, I spoke.

“Have you got ants in your pants or something?” I spoke slowly, careful not to slur my words.

“No, but I need to pee.” Elise frowned and stared out the window, presumably trying not to think about it too much.

“That’d explain the non-stop wriggling, then.” I giggled, turning my head and looking out the other window.

“It’s another twenty minute drive from yours.” Elise grimaced. “At the very least.” She started jiggling her knees up and down.

I turned and looked at her, catching her eye. My head, still so full of champagne bubbles, somehow found this extremely funny—like how everything is extremely funny when you’re drunk, even if it’s not the least bit amusing—making me laugh so hard, it made my stomach hurt.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Elise hissed, jiggling her knees up and down even faster. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it home at this rate.”

Through tears of laughter, I was about to answer her when the cab pulled up in front of my block of apartments. Pulling out some money from my purse, I handed it to the driver then turned to Elise.

“Come up and use mine,” I said, putting my hand on the cab’s door handle. “You can get yourself another lift from here.”

“Can I?” Elise’s face was a picture of relief.

I nodded, then got out of the cab and waited for Elise to get out the other side. We walked to the communal lift in silence, the only sound puncturing that silence our footsteps on the carpet, and went up the three floors to my level, still not speaking. I let us both in and stepped aside to let Elise pass me, flicking the light switch on as I did so.

“First door on the left.” I waved an arm. “Just there.”

Elise didn’t reply. Instead she hurried down to the bathroom while I switched more lights on in the lounge, giving the apartment an instant cosy look. When Elise returned, a few minutes later, she was grinning sheepishly.

“Sorry about that,” she said, pulling a face.

“Don’t you ever do as your mother always told you?” I asked, a smile twitching at the sides of my mouth.

“My mother?” Elise adjusted the shoulder straps on her dress and smoothed her front down.

“Always make sure you go before you leave somewhere?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Very funny.” Elise came past me, shrugging her coat off and placing it on the back of a chair by the window, nodding approvingly as she wandered around my apartment.

“Nice place,” she said, looking back over her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Suddenly thirsty, and, yeah, wanting more alcohol now the champagne was starting to wear off, I remembered the nicely chilled bottle of already-opened chardonnay I had in my fridge.

“Drink?” I took my jacket off and hung it by the front door. “I have wine.”

“Perfect.”

I thought she might just want to go home, so I was surprised and pleased when she accepted the offer and sat herself down on my sofa while I went into the kitchen to fetch the wine and a couple of glasses.

Kicking off my shoes, which had been pinching my feet for the last goodness knows how many hours, and wriggling my feet into my slippers with a happy sigh, I entered the kitchen and froze. There, on the floor, was the biggest, blackest, meanest looking badass spider I’d ever seen. Now, I hate spiders. Totally irrational, I know, but I do. Now here was one, sitting on the floor, looking like he wanted to fight someone. Preferably me.

“Jeez.” I shuddered, shutting the kitchen door tight and walking quickly back to the lounge.

I sat down with a
flumph
on the sofa next to Elise.

“That was quick,” she said, absent-mindedly looking up from a magazine she’d picked up from the table.

“The wine’ll have to wait.” I pulled a face. “There’s a spider the size of a Rottweiler in there.” I jerked my head towards the kitchen door.

Elise placed the magazine down on her lap and turned slowly to look in disbelief at me. “You’re joking, right?” she said. “You won’t go in there because of a spider?”

“And?” I said archly.

“Well, it’s not going to kill you, is it?” Elise said, incredulity etched on her face. “Just step round it.”

“Pole vault over it, more like,” I said, casting a glance back at the kitchen. “You haven’t seen the size of it.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Elise flopped the magazine down on the table and stood up from the sofa, scuffed her shoes off, and, taking one in her hand, padded quietly over towards the kitchen.

“Well, what are you going to do?” I called across.

“I’m going to kill it, you dummy,” she called back.

“No, don’t!” I leapt up and hurried after her, getting to the door before she did. I stood in the doorway, barring her way with my arm. “Don’t kill it.”

“Are you kidding me?” she said with a withering glare. “Please tell me you’re kidding me.”

“I’m not,” I mumbled. “I just don’t want you to kill it.”

Elise sighed.

“I just don’t like that sort of thing.” I felt my face reddening.

“Softie.” Elise dipped her head and looked up at me, making my face go even redder.

I paused. “Can’t you just get rid of it for me?” I looked hopefully at her.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of fun on her face as she did it and I sensed my own face cooling off again.

“I’ll get it in a tissue and place it gently outside the window, okay?” she said. “Or would you rather I fetched it a coffee and let it watch a bit of TV before I put it out?”

“There’s no need for sarcasm,” I said, opening the kitchen door and hastily stepping back.

“There’s every need for sarcasm when you’re being such a—Good God, that’s a whopper, isn’t it?” Elise’s face fell as she spotted the spider/Rottweiler hybrid.

“I told you that two minutes ago,” I said, trying not to sound too smug. “There’s plenty of toilet paper for it.” I waved a hand towards the bathroom and took another step back.

Elise scratched at her chin and pulled a face. “Hmm.”

“Hmm?” I repeated, looking at her in amusement.

She pursed her lips and glanced back at me. “I don’t think toilet paper is going to be sufficient for this particular one.” She cast a nervous look at the spider.

“Not scared, are you?” I asked, thinking how adorable she looked when she was slightly drunk and nervous at the same time.

“No,” she shot back at me. Her eyes were slightly wider than they’d been a few moments before, I noticed.

“Casey would get rid of spiders for Jasmine,” I teased. “She fancies her, so she’ll do anything for her.”

Elise looked slowly at me. “I’ll trap it and take it outside,” she said, ignoring my comment about Casey.

“So if I get you a large container, you’ll get rid of it for me?” I asked. “Because there’s no way I’m going anywhere near that!”

Elise thought a while. “Make it a very large container, yeah?” She finally said.

I walked back into the lounge and grabbed the lid from a spindle of blank CDs from my bookshelf and returned, waggling it at her.

“Like this?”

“Perfect.”

Elise stayed rooted to the spot, still looking at the spider, “just to make sure it doesn’t move…”

I went into my bedroom and plucked a large postcard from the cork noticeboard hanging on the wall, returning to stand next to Elise.

“Good luck,” I said, handing both the plastic lid and postcard to her.

“Gee, cheers,” she said sarcastically, taking them from me.

I watched in both amusement and awe as she then walked slowly towards the kitchen, container and postcard in her hands. She stopped in the doorway, and I watched through my fingers as she took a deep breath and started to approach the spider.

“Would you like a chair and whip to restrain it?” I called out.

“Very funny.” She turned and looked at me, a mock-angry look on her face.

I carried on watching her as she finally tipped the spider into the container and, while I held the door open, flung it out, still in its container, into the communal hall outside.

“Don’t ever ask me to do that again,” she said, shutting the door and glaring at me.

I looked at her leaning against the door, her face flushed, both from the alcohol and the spider. My insides flipped over.

We carried on looking at each other before Elise suddenly broke out into a grin and shook her head. She bent over and put her head in her hands, dissolving into a fit of giggles. Laughing, I came over to her and briefly hugged her, pulling away sharply at the sensation of her body against mine and the realisation of what I’d done.

“Thank you, Elise,” I said, shocked at my impromptu affection towards her. “There’s no way I could ever have done that!”

“Do you think it’s still out there?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” I replied, quickly stepping back from her. “Do you want to look?”

“No, I flipping don’t!” She laughed, finally moving away from the door. She puffed out her cheeks. “Perhaps we’ll leave it out there for a bit,” she said, glancing at me as she passed me.

We sat back down on the sofa, both of us flopping down at the same time, laughing slightly, and sat in silence for a moment.

“You’re funny,” Elise suddenly said, breaking the silence. “I didn’t realise before.”

I shot her a look. “Funny as in
haha,
or funny as in
weird
?” I asked uncertainly, waiting for her to hit me with another comment about how strange she thought I was because I could neither remove a spider from my kitchen nor kill the stupid thing.

To my relief, she didn’t come out with any comment at all.

“Funny as in
haha
,” she said, leaning her head back against the sofa. “You’re good fun. You make me laugh, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I laughed as much as I have this evening.”

The minute she said that, I realised that she’d made me laugh all night as well: in the club, in the cab coming home, and now here in my apartment. I guess I’d just never realised quite how funny she was before, but now here she was, still tipsy from the champagne but triumphant in her spider-catching prowess, sitting on my sofa looking…well, human. Human, and lovely, and as sexy as hell.