Welcome to My World (40 page)

Alex was looking through the collection of travel DVDs by the television. ‘You’ve got half the world in here, haven’t you?’ he grinned when she sat down. ‘It’s like Dan Beagle World.’

Harri shrugged. ‘He’s an amazing writer and presenter, that’s all.’

‘Crazy that your best friend ended up travelling with him, then. I can’t imagine Stella Smith teetering up Tibetan hills in her knock-off Jimmy Choos. Shouldn’t that have been you?’

Feeling her stomach lurch, Harri pushed down the cafetière plunger. ‘Stel’s having a fab time. I think it might just be the making of her.’

‘Maybe.’ His eyes scanned the rows of DVD spines. ‘You know, with the money you spent on these you could have actually visited some of these places.’ He looked at her. ‘I mean, why pay for somebody else’s experiences when you could see it for yourself?’

Dusting off the list of plausible excuses, Harri presented them for his perusal. ‘You know why. It just hasn’t happened for me yet. There’s always something that’s stopped me going: nobody else to travel with, Rob wanting to holiday in the UK, the recession . . .’

Alex stood and joined her on the sofa – thus incurring the feline disdain of Ron Howard, who stalked away to sit underneath the coffee table and stare in disgust at him. ‘Come on, Harri, be honest with yourself. All those fine reasons you trot out so often mean nothing here. Admit it: you’re scared to do it.’

How dare he? ‘That’s not true . . . It’s . . .’

His smile was kind even though his eyes sparked with victory. ‘You just need to believe it’s possible, that’s all.’ He placed his warm hand over hers on the sofa cushion. ‘
I
believe in you.’

The effect that those four words exerted on her was immense – completely unexpected: reaching into the furthest fathoms of her being and setting tiny stars alight, spinning with mirror-ball reflections in the darkness. It was only then that she realised how much she needed to hear that – not just from him, but from anyone. While she knew that Auntie Rosemary, Viv and Stella probably felt that way, none of them had taken the time to say it out loud. And as for Rob . . . well, even in his most thoughtful moments it would have never occurred to him that the sentiment was necessary.

‘Thank you. That means a lot.’

‘Good.’ His fingers lingered on her hand a moment longer and then let go.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Harri changed the subject. ‘So, come on then. What’s this thing you need my help with?’

‘Uh, yeah,
that . . .
’ Looking like a shy five-year-old, Alex pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his back pocket. He took a deep breath.

‘I just need your advice, you know – being a
woman
and everything.’

Harri raised her eyebrows. ‘Thanks for noticing.’

‘Perceptive, me.’ He began fiddling with the zip on one of the sofa cushions. ‘It’s just that – well – I’ve given this loads of thought and I think the time is right . . . That is to say, I don’t know for sure, but . . .’

‘Al! Just spit it out!’

‘I’m going to propose to Chelsea on Valentine’s Day.’

The silence this was met with was so long and weighty it could have had its own series on BBC4. Harri knew she should have been happy for him, as supportive for his dreams as he had just been for hers, but somehow she couldn’t muster up anything but a sense of stone-cold loss, like a heavy door slamming shut somewhere. She had been waiting for seven years for Rob to make that decision and yet Alex seemed capable of making it in a matter of months. Angry at her uncharacteristic response, she cajoled a smile to sit awkwardly on her face.

‘Wow.’

He looked uncertain. ‘Yeah.’

She nodded slowly, calm on the surface masking a frantic battle within. ‘So how can I help?’

As he answered, his eyes held a strange sadness, in sharp contrast to the positive expression he wore. ‘Would you listen to what I’m planning to say? I’ve been trying to find the words for a while and I don’t know if it’s sincere or just pathetic.’

No
! screamed the confident version of Harri inside.
Find some other mug to ask. This is beyond what I can offer you
. . . But as she looked at him, so unsure, suddenly so out of his comfort zone, she knew she couldn’t refuse. ‘Go on, then.’

His face brightened, the relief impossible to conceal. ‘Really? Thank you so much, H! Seriously, the hassle this has caused me so far . . . OK, sorry, I’ll – er . . .’ He nodded at the piece of paper now held aloft in his hands, shaking slightly. ‘Right. Well, I thought I’d start by saying how the past few months of my life have been so amazing, etc, then, you know, say it’s all down to her, blah, blah . . . Say how alive being with her makes me feel and, I don’t know, maybe something about spending the rest of my life with her? Not sure about that bit – borderline cheesy, d’you think? Anyway, then I’ll go for the big ending, the one-knee thing, the ring, and then I thought I’d just go for the classic “Will you marry me” line – none of that “Would you do me the honour” stuff . . . OK,
what
?’

Despite the war within, Harri couldn’t hide her mirth. ‘Al, that’s
dreadful
! You sound like you’re giving a business presentation, not begging the woman of your dreams to spend the rest of her life with you! I really hope you’re not going to do it like that on Monday night.’

He looked aghast at her. ‘How else am I meant to do it? I mean, she already knows all this stuff and last week we even ended up talking about what kind of ring she’d like. It’s hardly going to come as a surprise to her, is it?’

‘Alex, listen. Every girl dreams about the day someone proposes to her. You hope it’s only going to happen once in your life, so it needs to be memorable. It needs to come from your heart.’

He stared at his notes, then helplessly back at her. ‘But it
is
. Man, I’m going to be rubbish at this. I can’t do the whole lyrical, romantic spiel.’

‘You don’t need to. Just be yourself.’ From his perplexed expression, it was obvious that he needed more than this to go on. ‘OK, listen. When I was at college and we were learning about selling holidays, the best way for us to learn what to do was to pair up and practise on each other. So, why don’t I pretend to be Chelsea and you can say it like you’re going to say it to her?’

‘Ew! That’s just going to be
well
weird.’

Harri sighed. ‘Yes, well, it’s not exactly how I’d anticipated spending my Wednesday evening either, but it might just put your mind at rest.’

He folded his arms and looked around the room as he mulled it over, his foot tapping nervously. Then he let out a massive sigh and slapped his hands decisively on his knees. ‘Oh, what the heck, I’ll do it – but you have to promise
never
to tell another living soul about this, all right?’

She nodded and traced a cross on the left side of her breast-bone with her fingers. ‘Cross my heart. Now get on with it, before I change my mind.’

‘All right.’

‘Good. So, I’m Chelsea – ooh, wait . . .’ she grabbed a cushion and shoved it up the front of her top, stretching it out to Jordan-esque proportions, ‘. . .
now
I’m Chelsea.’

‘You’re not funny.’

‘Sorry.’ Removing it, she turned to face him. ‘OK, ready.’ Rubbing his hands together, Alex hesitantly took her hand and glanced at his paper. ‘Right . . . Chelsea, I—’

‘Hang on a minute.’

‘
What now?
Come on, H, this is excruciating.’

‘Lose the paper.’

‘Eh?’

She gently took his script from him and he watched helplessly as it was placed out of reach. ‘You don’t need this. Stop panicking, calm down and just speak from your heart. Now . . .’ She offered her hand back to him.

Taking it again, he took a deep breath and fixed his dark brown eyes on hers. ‘Chelsea . . .’ he began, as if securing the mental image of his girlfriend in front of him, ‘you know how I feel about you. I . . .
man
, this is hard . . . Er, OK, sorry. Chelsea . . . The past few months have been amazing and it’s all down to you. Being with you makes me feel alive.’ He paused,

gazing into her eyes, the unexpected intensity of this taking her by surprise. ‘You understand me in a way that nobody else does. I feel complete when I’m holding your hand . . . like
this
. . . and right now I don’t want to be anywhere else than here with you.’

Harri could see the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing quickened, feel the heat in his hand as it cradled hers, his thumb beginning to move in feather-like circles across the top of her fingers. The change in him was phenomenal: gone were the embarrassed, stilted words and, in their place, prose infused with the very beat of his heart began to weave an intoxicating spell around her.

‘So, I want to ask you . . . I need to know . . .’ he moved deftly from the sofa to his knee, ‘. . . can this last forever? Because I can’t imagine my world without you in it.’ A brave smile assumed centre stage and Harri was aware of her own mirroring his. ‘Will you marry me?’

Without warning, without thought, instinctively . . . forgetting everything else and for the first time letting her heart lead, Harri bent down and kissed him. The softness of his lips on hers sent shockwaves blasting through her body, rendering rational thought redundant as he began to return the kiss. It was as if they were two magnetic fields, with no other choice than to connect – the urgency and intensity of which was astounding. Locked together, his fingers tangling in her hair while her arms wrapped around his shoulders, they rose slowly to their feet as if the euphoria building within them could lift their bodies clear off the ground. Right there and then, nothing mattered but this beautiful, shocking, world-changing moment . . .

Then, in a heartbeat, the poles reversed, forcing them apart. Harri opened her eyes in bewilderment as she realised Alex was breaking free. Staggering back, face contorted in sheer horror, he faced her – and everything suddenly became horribly clear as the reality of the situation fell full on Harri with sickening weight.

‘No! I can’t . . . what the
hell
were we just . . .’ he stammered, the words dancing elusively around his tongue.

‘Al, I—’

‘No – don’t say it, Harri! Don’t even . . .’ Looking about him hurriedly, he grabbed his coat and began backing towards the door. ‘I can’t . . . It’s all wrong – we shouldn’t have let that happen . . .’ Flinging open the door, he ran out and Harri reached the gaping doorway in time to see his car speeding away.

Alone in the freezing night, Harri let out a cry that seemed to come from outside herself, slumping against the door frame as the full force of it all blind-sided her. Razor-raw questions surrounded her conscience, jabbing with devastating accuracy. What just happened? How did they move from a stilted role-play to
that
kiss? Worse still, how could she have allowed
herself
to be so reckless? How could she face Rob now? How could she ever look Alex in the eye again?

Stupid, stupid,
stupid
spontaneity! She had long suspected that following her heart could only end in tears and this had proved the theory. Blankly gazing out at the frigid night, Harri suddenly realised the world-shattering truth: missing the last train home, she stood on the platform of her life, watching Alex disappearing out of view at the very moment she understood what he meant to her. She was falling for him – but it felt like death.

Struggling to contend with the gamut of emotions bombarding her from all sides, Harri pushed the door closed, leaning the full weight of her body against it as if to shut the new and unwelcome questions outside – only to find they had sneaked in behind her back and were now lining up accusingly in her hallway.

This can’t be happening, she screamed at herself, standing alone in her hall.
Get a grip
– think . . .

Whatever she thought she had felt could never be allowed to rise to the surface again. She loved Rob, not Alex: Rob who, for all his unreliability and frustrations, had stayed with her for over seven years and, even now, was discussing spending the rest of his life by her side. Alex was a good friend – nothing else. And after the way he had fled from her tonight, he
couldn’t be
anything else, not now, not ever . . . Running a hand through her hair, angry tears racing from her eyes, she clutched the memory of Alex’s kiss and forced it back to the furthermost reaches of her consciousness.

One thing was certain: she had to forget tonight ever happened. And she had to forget Alex.

‘It’s getting late, Harri. I would imagine we’re the only ones here now. So let’s stop this nonsense and get you out of here, eh?’

Maybe Viv is right, Harri thinks. Maybe it’s time. She slowly stands, her ankles stiff from being seated for such a long time, and reaches for the door lock . . .

Just then, the door to the ladies’ flies open, the pneumatic hinge squealing in surprise. ‘Vivienne, what on earth are you doing in here?’

‘Mervyn Riley, get out of these toilets! Harri, I’ll be back in a min . . .’

Harri pauses, holding her breath. Viv’s chair scrapes back and her heels click quickly outside as Merv is bundled out of the door into the corridor beyond. Her irritated voice can be heard lambasting him for his rude interruption.

‘. . . and walking into the
ladies
’, for pity’s sake? What were you thinking?’

Granted a brief reprieve from her inevitable exit, Harri sits back down.