And under a flurry of powdery snow, we kiss like it’s the first time, and I never want this moment to end.
Epilogue
‘Do you think this would look nice in the living room?’
Sarah picks up a large red cushion and inspects it more closely. Ever since we bought the flat in Oxford, she’s been a home furnishing machine.
‘Um, probably,’ I reply, doing my best to sound interested. ‘Get it if you like it.’
She smiles. ‘I knew you’d say that. Honey, we may have been together for two years, but living together is entirely different.’
‘I know.’
‘And sometimes having to look at cushions or other items that you dislike day in, day out can cause unnecessary tension in a relationship.’
‘You’re alluding to my tapestry, aren’t you?’
‘It’s not a tapestry, it’s an old, frayed tea towel-looking monstrosity and I hate it.’
We continue walking around the market, killing time before I meet with Matt. London is unusually mild for December, but still cold enough for Sarah to wear her white bobble hat. God, she looks cute as hell in that hat. We have the whole weekend to ourselves and I intend to spend at least sixty per cent of that naked.
‘OK, I’ll make a deal with you,’ I say. ‘I’ll get rid of thetapestry, if you get rid of that creepy picture.’
‘What picture?’
‘The one in the hall.’
‘Miss Fox? I love that sketch. It’s—’
‘It’s a fox in a Victorian nightdress, holding a duck! It’s weird, and frankly, a little disturbing!’
She thinks for a moment and finally agrees to put it in the loft if I’ll surrender the tapestry.
‘But if she escapes the frame and haunts the loft out of spite, it’s your fault.’
I’m not sure she’s kidding.
‘Oh, Alfie texted me from Mum’s phone. He says Spot’s having a great time and says good luck!’
‘Aww, that’s sweet,’ I reply, smiling and taking Sarah’s hand, hoping she doesn’t think too hard about the good luck part of the message. I can tell she’s missing Alfie but having him stay with his grandparents for a few days has given us a much-needed rest.
She shrugs. ‘Not sure why you need luck, but I guess seven-year-olds rarely make sense at the best of times. Listen, after we’ve done our visiting rounds, can we just go back to the hotel and chill?’
‘Room service and trash TV?’
‘I love it when you talk dirty.’
We take the bus to Southview Shopping Centre, a place I haven’t stepped foot in since I hung up my red suit three Christmases ago. I’ve arranged to meet Matt in the bar next door, allowing Sarah to grab some last-minute gifts for Alfie while he’s busy being spoiled by his grandparents.
‘OK, it’s half four now,’ Sarah informs me. ‘I don’t have much to get, so just text me when you’re done, and I’ll meet you.’
I agree, kissing her lightly on the mouth before heading out into the snow.
Matt and I haven’t seen each other in months, but we greet each other like it’s been much longer. He looks good. Marriage obviously agrees with him.
‘Two spiced rum and Cokes, please,’ I say, as we sit at the bar. ‘No ice in mine.’
‘God, it’s good to see you, mate,’ Matt says. ‘How’s life? Did the move go well?’
