Page 120

“Definitely.” She removed her coat.

“Welcome back.” Simon stood up, kissing Alex on the cheek. “I’ll get us some plastic banners. Be back in a minute.”

“I’m so glad you came.” Freddie smiled. “I figured if you saw me with my big boy charitable pants on, you couldn’t possibly be cross with me anymore. I’m a good ’un, see?”

“I see.” Her eyes swept over the table filled with bang-bang sticks, ponchos, and temporary tattoos for Teenage Cancer Trust’s ‘Cheer Kits’. “I wasn’t angry with you, Freddie. I was in self-preservation mode. I needed time away.”

“Yeah, from me.”

“Not just you.”

“But I went way overboard. That ‘What have you done?’ text? God! And bringing Mark around early for his move? Lucy’s still pissed at me. I thought if you saw how sad Mark was, you might buckle and take him back. It almost worked, too. You had that look, like you really wanted to hug him—and you were wearing his shirt! My heart ballooned, and then Lucy popped it by pulling you away.”

“I was having huge regrets—”

“Really? I thought so—”

“But not anymore.”

Freddie’s face fell. “Well…I’m happy you’re back. I miss your snarky comments on my Insta.”

“Don’t hold your breath. I might extend my social media sabbatical.”

“Aw, come back, Lex! I’m bleeding followers. That annoying silver mime artist in Covent Garden? He’s got more followers than me! How messed up is that?”

He plucked an armful of ponchos from the table. “So, here’s the deal: each envelope gets one tattoo, one poncho, and so on. Don’t seal them up, though. Si’s fetching the banners…if he ever comes back. He’s probably stuck offering plumbing advice to the manager again—she’s in the middle of loo renovations, apparently.”

Alex sat down, picking up a tattoo. “You know, it still shocks me…teenage you, with cancer. I had no idea.”

“I know I can be a blabbermouth, but even I have secrets. I threatened Lucy and Mark with pain of death if they ever spilled. I wanted to be the one to share my past.”

“Absolutely.”

“I almost said something when you told me and Lucy about your anxiety, but it wasn’t the right time. I wanted to know you a little better. Some people get super freaked by the c-word—especially when it involves a kid. I can’t blame them, really. You’re supposed to be all hormones at fifteen, trying to cop off for the first time, and there I was, having a ball removed.” He stuffed ponchos in his envelopes. “I never wanted to use cancer for sympathy. I wanted you to know me first. That way, if you did end up feeling sorry for me, it would be because of my terrible singing or my shitty taste in rom-coms…not because I had testicular cancer.”

“I understand why you waited. I didn’t tell Mark about my panic attacks for seven months.”

“I know. You kept telling us not to tell him, and I never did.”

She smiled. Her anxiety was a secret Freddie had guarded like it was his own.

“I wish I had told you differently. Toasting my latest all-clear check-up at Thirteen’s closing party was a bit too Freddie, even for me.”

Alex giggled. “You gave us a big reason to celebrate that night.” She added inflatable bang-bang sticks to Freddie’s packages. “Until then, I always thought you were off shopping when you weren’t around. I had no clue you were so philanthropic.”

He shoved his hair from his eyes. “It worked though, didn’t it? I like to keep up the illusion of Fun Freddie, twenty-four-seven in glorious technicolour, darling!” His finger flicked through a stack of tattoos. “Are you still volunteering with that lupus charity?”

“Yeah, it’s been eight months now. I’m writing for their newsletter, just minor pieces.”

“Minor, my arse, Lex. I’d say that’s pretty major, still doing it. You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know, but I don’t want to let them down.” Alex shrugged. “Niamh meant a lot to me.”

“Mark said she misses you.”

“Freddie…”

“You can still talk to her—”