We walk back to the hotel with our arms round each other. It’s quite a long walk but it passes quickly. We talk a bit, about things like gargoyles on buildings and famous places that wepass, the bakeries, chocolateries and macaron shops, with their saliva-inducing displays, and amazing little shops, like one that’s entirely devoted to stunning ribbons, and we also wander in silence at times, during which all I think about is the fact that we’ve now told each other thatwe love each other.
When we wake up in the morning, I feel normal at first, and then I feel the weight of Callum spooned round me and I remember last night, and I don’t feel normal any more; I feel like the luckiest woman alive. I lie there justsmiling.
But then, instead of kissing me or doing any of the other things that he’s been doing when we wake up each morning, Callum clears his throat behind me. It’s a weird throat-clearing for the situation we’re in. It’s the kind of throat-clearing you do when you have something to say in a work meeting or something. You wouldn’t think a throat-clearing sound could alarm you, but I do feel a little alarmed.
‘Callum?’ I ask.
‘I need to get back to London,’ he says. ‘Fast. A work thing. There’s a train from the Gare du Nord late morning today, and my PA’s booked me onto it. I just found out.’
‘Oh.’ I feel instantly incredibly deflated but then I think no, that’s okay. He wasn’t expecting to be on holiday at all, so we’ve been very lucky to have this time together. Obviously it was always going to be finite. We can just see each other when I get back, whenever we’re both free. Hopefully sooner rather than later but we do both have our own lives. The main thing is that we love each other and I’m sure we’re going to find a way to join our actual lives, not just our holiday lives, together.
‘So I’m just going to get into the shower.’ He pulls his arms from round me and as he gets out of bed he doesn’t kiss me, which feels a bit (very) odd, but he’s clearly in a rush, which is totally understandable.
I enjoy watching him walk naked across the room to the bathroom. It’s a view you could happily see every day for the rest of your life. And, oh my goodness, hopefully I will. He’s changed a little from how he was when we were young, as I have. I want to see all the rest of the changes; I want to grow middle-aged with him and then old with him. I want him in my life forever.
I drift back into sleep thinking of Callum.
I think the sound of the bathroom door opening wakes me up; I’m disorientated again for a moment when I re-wake, and then face-splittingly-wide-smiled happy when I remember.
Me and Callum. Callum and me. We’re in love.
Callum’s in a suit.
‘Suits you, sir,’ I say, still smiling.
He doesn’t smile back and my own smile starts to drop. He’s looking…odd. Like, quite frowny. Oh my God. Is he regretting telling me that he loved me? Did he not…meanit?
I swallow. I can barely deal with all the terror I’m feeling right now. Does henotwant to see me again when we’re both back in London?
And then he sits down on the bed. At the other end. Beyond my feet.
And he says, ‘I have something to tell you.’
His face is very serious and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am not going to enjoy hearing whatever he has to say.
15
CALLUM
I am such a fucking idiot.
I should have had myself under better control last night.
What the fuck was I thinking telling Emma that I love her? Obviously Idolove her. But – without being conceited – it’s clear that she also loves me, and that is not a good thing. I’m pretty sure that she’s going to be very hurt now and I’m guessing – well, certain – that the exchange of I-love-yous will not have helped. Again, without being conceited, I think there’s every chance that she was beginning to hope or plan for a proper relationship, and obviously my behaviour last night implied that I was too.
I should not have said it.
‘Yes?’ Her voice is the sharpest I’ve ever heard it and the sound breaks my heart.
I’ve done that to her. We’ve spent an idyllic few days together and – instigated by me – we’ve said we love each other, and now I’m doing this.
Maybe she’ll begin to hate me. She isn’t the kind of person who hates people. I will have done that to her. It might be a good thing in the short term, so that she can move on with her lifewithout me, but I don’t think it’s healthy to learn to hate people. I’ll have damaged her. Which perfectly demonstrates why this is the right decision.
I should have walked away at the beginning, though. I should not have got sucked into any of this.
When Janet told me a couple of days ago that she could get me on a train from Lyon to London, I should not have said, ‘do you know what, I’m good with my lift’, I should have bloody said thank you so much to Janet and goodbye then and there to Emma, instead of saying nothing about anything to Emma and carrying on with the charade.
I wanted to stay with Emma partly, obviously, because I was loving her company, but partly also as a companion for her because I was worried about her travelling alone, but in reality she’d have been absolutely fine like she has been for the rest of the trip. I’m not sure whether I was being a patronising idiot or whether I was using the worry about her safety as an excuse for staying with her.
