‘Raf and I are doing a movie tonight, the first of forty he wants to watch over the next year,’ she said casually, filling a bowl on the table with apples, oranges and bananas. ‘And he’s said you two can pick tonight so we can watch it together.’
‘What’s on the list?’ Isla’s head was bent over her own phone. Like all teenagers, she and Rory could hold a conversation and keep up with whatever they were doing on their screens.
‘Here.’ Raf pushed his phone across, and she and Rory abandoned theirs to look. ‘You probably haven’t seen that many, and most of them are classics everyone should watch at least once.’
‘When Harry Met Sallysounds okay,’ Isla said, sliding his phone back. ‘I’ve heard of it, even though it’s, like, pretty ancient. Mum loves a romcom.’
‘Isn’t that a Christmas one? I thought it was set at New Year.’ Cassie absolutely was not going to look at Raf. The very last movie she wanted to watch with him was one about old friends who eventually fall in love and find their happy ending.
‘You’re killing me, Isla, seriously.’ He laughed as he slowly shook his head. ‘It’s 1989, so barely even vintage, and the story is timeless.’
‘What’s it about?’ Rory got up and collected Flynn’s water bowl to refill it.
‘It’s a funny story about two people who are friends for a long time,’ Cassie said quickly. ‘Anyway, if you two want to chill in your rooms, we can watch it another time.’ Like, never.
‘But you’re always telling us to stay off our phones.’ Isla raised her chin an inch. ‘And that watching a movie together is a collective experience. I don’t mind.’
‘Sorry, Mum.’ Rory shot her an apologetic glance, Flynn’s hopeful stare on him. ‘I said I’d go online with Jacob and Alfie.’
‘What time are we starting?’ Isla jumped up, grabbing an apple.
‘Thirty minutes?’ Raf checked his watch.
I can do this, Cassie thought desperately.It’s only a movie. ‘Rory, don’t stay online too late, okay? I’ll come and say good night later.’ At home the Wi-Fi went off at ten p.m., but for now, she could loosen the brakes, seeing as school had finished for the summer.
‘Okay.’ Rory returned a moment later with Flynn’s bowl, and the wolfhound eased himself to his feet. Rory patted him and took off after Isla, thundering along the passage to the stairs.
‘I wasn’t expecting Isla to choose that one.’ Raf held up his hands and she shrugged.
‘It’s fine. I like it, and I haven’t seen it for ages.’ At least she knew what to expect. She stood up and gathered the empty snack wrappers Rory and Isla had left behind. Usually she was firm about clearing up after themselves, but she would excuse them this once.
‘We can open a bottle of wine if you like.’
‘Lovely.’ Could she drink the lot? Cassie wondered about spending the next twenty-seven minutes in her room, giving herself a stern talking to about why she didn’t approve of friends becoming lovers. In her bathroom soon after, she ran a cool flannel over her skin, a face flushed pink staring back.
Downstairs in the television room she found Raf already there. He poured her a glass of wine from the bottle he’d opened and passed it across.
‘Thanks.’ She wasn’t quite sure where to sit. The best view would be on the new L-shaped sofa, where she usually found Isla and Rory slumped if they weren’t at the fridge or in their rooms. She settled at one end, it was plenty big enough not to be anywhere near Raf, and Isla flopped in the centre when she joined them. There wasn’t going to be any cosying up here for Cassie, not unless it was snuggling with her daughter.
Flynn also had his own bed nearby, and he folded himself into it as Raf chose the opposite end of the sofa, one ankle crossed over the other. She found it impossible not to be aware of his every little move: long fingers holding the stem of his glass. The curve of a bicep revealed by his T-shirt when he leant down to run a hand over Flynn near his feet, and the breadth of his shoulders, something she’d never paid any attention to before Australia. Somehow she was halfway down her glass of Soave already. Isla put her phone to one side and grinned at Cassie as she folded her legs beneath her. He hit the remote and the familiar opening credits ofWhen Harry Met Sallyappeared. The jaunty song began, Harry Connick Jr crooning ‘It Had to Be You’. She squirmed in her seat, thumping perfectly arranged cushions.
The kiss. Oh hell, how could she have forgotten the kiss? The characters of Harry and his girlfriend drawing out a very thorough goodbye as Sally pulled up in a car alongside. It went on and on, the camera panning around the couple oblivious to everything else. Cassie was scarlet and she slid a hand over her face. The hot flush wasn’t a pretend one either; her skin felt nuclear. Maybe it was her age and not having to watch this with Raf at the other end of the sofa. She’d be checking his list twice before she agreed to watch any more of his bloody birthday movies.
She was very glad Rory had decided to sit this one out, and Isla was already glancing at her phone. Better that than all four of them having to watch this couple kissing for what seemed like forever, until Sally cleared her throat a second time. Harry’s girlfriend finally realised she was there and introduced Harry. Really, that dodgy fringe ought to have been enough to put anyone off; Sally should’ve known better. Then another kiss for the road, before Sally blasted her horn and Harry finally got in the car.
The orgasm scene was excruciating. If Isla weren’t here, then Cassie might have been in her underwear by now, purely for temperature reasons. She stared straight ahead, smile frozen in place as Sally brought the cafe to a standstill with her pretend performance for Harry. Raf hadn’t moved either, and when Cassie risked a sideways glance, his face was set like granite, one finger tapping idly against his empty glass, a muscle flickering in his cheek. She was well down her second now and he’d just finished his first. The conversations between the characters, their fights and their feelings; so much of it seemed to be pointing a finger straight at them.
She always cried at the end and caught Raf swiping his face too, a gesture that sent a rush of something straight to her heart. She wasn’t going to call it love, not beyond the friendly feelings she already had for him. The rest was a crush, and it would pass, as crushes generally did. But why did he have to have shoulders like that and those arms, covered in the tattoos revealing the story of his life? Why did he smile at her the way he did, when she was trying so very hard to be sensible? Almost every scene in the movie had dragged her back to those moments of madness with him in Queensland. Isla said good night and vanished, her duty done.
‘One down. Thirty-nine to go.’ Cassie wiped her forehead for about the tenth time, thankful he couldn’t see the clattering of her pulse. Maybe he could hear it, she certainly could. ‘Time for bed.’ She leapt up so quickly she whacked her knee on the coffee table and grimaced as she tottered back.
‘Are you all right?’ Raf was on his feet, and he caught her arms.
‘I’m fine,’ she muttered. ‘You can let go.’
She looked up and instantly realised her mistake. His eyes had deepened into dark pools, confusing her senses and leaving her drowning. She’d kissed very few people in her life, while he was an expert. She’d known it from the way he’d held her that night: one hand on her face, the other on her back, pulling her into him, hard and soft all at once. His mouth demanding more, asking her to meet him, to match him and never let him go. She’d wanted to hold him forever then, to lose herself in his strength and the desire she hadn’t felt in so very long.
He ran a slow finger down her face, and it took every scrap of strength she possessed not to capture it between her lips and have him follow where she led. She knew what he wanted; his gaze and the catch in his breath couldn’t be any clearer. She made herself step away, restoring the distance and clinging to her future as his friend for all she was worth.
