Never Forget You, page 3
‘I won’t miss out,’ he said. ‘Trust me.’ When he’d finished messing around on his phone, he grinned at me. ‘Where do you want to go next? Wanna grab some dinner? Or do you want to try one of those “secret” bars you told me about? The one you get to by going through a door disguised as a vintage fridge sounds fun, or the one that looks like a detective agency.’
‘Ben!’
‘It’s okay,’ he said, grabbing me by the hand and leading me towards the palace. ‘I had a flight from London to Amsterdam tonight, and I was going to spend a day taking pictures of canals before catching another flight from there to Singapore tomorrow evening. I can still make my connection if I fly tomorrow afternoon.’
I walked beside him, dazed for a few moments. ‘Really? You really did that? Just to be with me?’
He stopped and turned, waited for me to look at him. ‘I really did.’
Chapter Four
MY LEFT SHOULDER was stiff, and I stretched to ease it. The movement brought me from the shallows of sleep into consciousness. I blinked and found Ben looking down at me.
Oh, yes. I’d gone to sleep lying on his lap, and by the looks of his groggy expression, he’d also dozed off, feet propped up on a low table, back resting against a padded bench in the darkened lounge area of the hostel he was staying at.
I hadn’t realised that when he’d cancelled his flight to Amsterdam that it had been non-refundable. He’d said it hadn’t cost him much to find one the next day, but he’d only had his hotel booked for one night, so he’d had to pull in a favour from a travelling acquaintance who worked in a hostel in Southwark because that was all his carefully rationed funds would allow.
However, it meant we didn’t really have anywhere private to go. He’d managed to find a space in a room with four sets of bunk beds, two of which were currently occupied by sleeping men, so we’d hung out in the lounge area on the ground floor, full of funky and easily cleanable cheap furniture. I stretched again, yawned, and pushed myself to a sitting position. ‘What time is it?’ I said, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand.
Ben checked his phone. ‘Ten past four.’ His voice sounded lovely all sleep-roughened. I leaned in and gave him a kiss.
Although I felt bad about costing him money he couldn’t afford before his big year-long trip around the world, I couldn’t regret the fact he’d stayed. Last night had been amazing. After sorting out the hostel, we’d gone to somewhere near Kings Cross that did stupendous curries for a couple of pounds a bowl, then he’d managed to blag us seats at a ‘floating cinema’ in what looked like a mini Canary Wharf somewhere in West London by promising he’d take a few free shots as publicity. Well, when I say ‘seats’, I mean a tiny boat for two that bobbed up and down on the water as we’d watched Jaws.
After the film, we’d just walked and talked through the streets, which had started out full of noise and colour, populated by drunk people either looking for a club or the wrong night bus, but had grown gradually quieter as the night had deepened. In the end, it had almost seemed as if we were the only two people left in the city. We’d arrived back at the hostel at about two and had talked some more before eventually nodding off.
‘Hungry?’ he asked and walked over to the brightly lit vending machine on the other side of the room. I nodded, so he fed it some coins and returned with a couple of packets of Hula Hoops and a Twix to share. ‘Sorry. You have to learn to forage and eat what’s available when you’re travelling on a budget.’
I popped open my packet of crisps and tucked one leg underneath myself. ‘It’s just what I wanted,’ I said, throwing a couple of Hula Hoops into my mouth. ‘If you’d taken me to the Savoy for breakfast, this is what I’d have ordered.’
He laughed, and I smiled back at him. I loved that I could make him laugh. ‘I’m not sure they serve Hula Hoops at the Savoy.’
‘Well, they should,’ I said, mumbling through the crunchy potato rings as I stuffed another handful into my mouth. All that walking earlier had obviously given me an appetite. As I chewed, I wondered what inhabited the vending machines in some of the far-flung places he must have visited. ‘What made you want to travel for a living?’ I asked when I’d finished my mouthful. ‘How did it all start?’
Ben leaned back against the padded bench and sighed. ‘Right from when I was little, I remember being obsessed with atlases. I was always getting the one my father owned out of the bookshelf and turning the pages, wondering what it would be like to live on those little dots of colour in the middle of distant oceans or up on the mountain ranges that ran like spines through countries and continents. I suppose, in some ways, I’d been planning to leave Invergarrig since I was old enough to read.’
‘What’s it like, your hometown?’ I asked.
‘It’s nice enough … I mean, it sits on the edge of a loch, and there are mountains, even a castle.’
‘Sounds like the sort of place people would choose to visit, not leave at the first opportunity.’
Ben looked down, breaking eye contact. ‘I never really felt at home there.’ I shuffled close and snuggled up against him, my back pressed against his side, and his arm came down over my shoulder. ‘I always felt like I didn’t belong, like an outsider. Is that weird?’
I shook my head. ‘No … I get it completely. Not many kids where I grew up play the violin. It made me different.’ I sighed heavily. ‘And now I’m not even sure I want to do it any more.’ I put my bag of crisps down and turned around so I could see his face. ‘What made you feel that way?’
‘My dad,’ he said, without emotion. ‘He made it clear I was a disappointment to him.’
I frowned. ‘Why would he think that? You’re carving out a niche for yourself, doing a career you love. Isn’t that what everyone wants?’ In contrast, my parents had supported me every step of the way to pursue my dreams. That was why thinking about dropping out had been so hard.
He exhaled. ‘It’s not a “proper” job, apparently. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, go into insurance …’
I pulled a face.
Ben laughed softly. ‘Exactly! And the fact I didn’t want to do that caused a big issue.’ He fell silent for a moment. ‘But, to be honest, that wasn’t the start of it. He’s always been like that – picking away at my sister and me. Nothing we did was ever good enough, and it got even worse after my mum died. She used to go to bat for us, even though I now realise she might have been scared of him too. So, I suppose the question should be: why wouldn’t I want to leave Invergarrig as soon as I got the chance?’
‘Your mum died? Oh, I’m so sorry, Ben.’
‘It’s okay. It happened a year after I’d left home, and my sister bore the brunt of living with him alone – she’s two years younger than me, so she was only seventeen when it happened. I didn’t realise it at the time, but I think he got even worse after Mum passed. I think that’s when Cat really started to struggle.’ He stared into the darkness on the other side of the room for a few seconds. ‘At first, she acted out. You know, basic teenage rebellion, but now …’ He turned to look at me, and there was a bleakness in his expression. ‘I’m worried about her.’
‘Do you get on?’
He grimaced. ‘Occasionally. I think she can only see me as the annoying big brother who likes to boss her around. It threatened to cause a real rift between us, but she cleaned up her act recently, and I hope to God it’s going to stick … She’s pregnant, you see. She just told me this last weekend.’ His expression grew even more hollow. ‘I might not even be back in the country when she has the baby, but I’m going to see what I can work out. She needs me, even if she can’t see that at the moment.’
I rubbed his arm and laid my head against his shoulder, and for a few seconds, we just stayed like that. I sensed it was time to talk about something else. ‘Okay … so we’ve got eleven hours before you need to be going through security at Heathrow. What do you want to do today?’
‘I really don’t care,’ he said, turning to kiss me softly, ‘as long as I can spend it with you.’
I rode the Tube with Ben all the way to the airport when the time came. I couldn’t bear to say goodbye to him until the absolute very last second.
We’d watched the sun rise over the Thames, eaten bacon rolls with huge polystyrene cups of tea from a kiosk in Borough Market, then visited a café full of arcade games, which we’d played for nearly an hour. I was a pinball wizard, apparently. Who knew? After that, I’d persuaded him to go to Nunhead Cemetery with me – not as famous as Highgate, but just as striking – and then we’d headed back into the centre of town, browsed a few markets, including one tucked into a courtyard outside a church along Piccadilly.
But eventually, we’d ended up at Terminal Three, dragging those last few minutes together out as much as possible. ‘When will I see you again?’ I asked him.
He held on to me tightly, pressed an emphatic kiss into the top of my head. ‘I don’t know … I won’t be back in Europe for at least six months, and even then, not the UK, but I’m supposed to be in Bulgaria in February. I know … Come to Sofia and meet me!’
I stared back at him. If he’d asked me that question even twelve hours ago, I’d have jumped at the chance, but early this morning, while we’d been studying the elaborate headstones at Nunhead Cemetery, I’d come to a realisation. Life was too short, wasn’t it? I couldn’t give up on my dreams. I had to be brave and adventurous, like Ben was. ‘I can’t …’ I replied mournfully. ‘I have music school. It’s not the sort of place where you can just take a few days off and disappear.’
He thought for a moment. ‘Then I’ll cancel Bulgaria and Croatia and come back to the UK early.’
‘No! You’ve been planning this trip for years!’
He gave me a look that made my insides melt into a gooey puddle. ‘If there’s anyone who makes me want to stay in one place, it’s you.’
I shook my head. ‘You can’t abandon your dreams for me, Ben, just like I shouldn’t let my go of mine because of you. We’d always regret it later.’ I sighed, searching the hard angles and painted steel of the airport terminal for an answer, but I came up empty. ‘We’ll just have to be patient. When can you get back without compromising your plans?’
He was quiet for a few moments, and I could tell he was flicking through calendars and travel schedules in his head. ‘June. Maybe … Part of my plan was to do extra work in certain places to fund the next leg, and it really depends on how quickly I find jobs and how much they pay.’
‘A year, then?’
‘Realistically. I couldn’t promise any earlier for certain.’ He turned away momentarily, obviously frustrated. ‘But I don’t like leaving things so open-ended. It’s not fair to you … And I don’t much like the idea, either.’
‘Then let’s make it a specific day. What date was it yesterday?’
‘The twelfth of July,’ he replied, his eyes full of curiosity.
‘Then we’ll meet one year from the day we met. Here …’
‘In Heathrow Airport? That’s hardly very romantic!’
I punched him lightly on the arm. ‘No, you melon. In London … I know! In the garden at the church … at St Dunstan-in-the-East.’
He smiled at me. ‘It’s perfect. And it’s a date. Nothing will stop me being there.’ He sounded so serious I almost laughed, a nervous reflex, maybe, because I didn’t want to cry instead. He must have seen my lips twitch because he said, ‘I mean it. Don’t you believe me?’
‘Of course I do. If I know anything about you by now, it’s that you don’t dive into something unless you’re fully committed. That’s just who you are.’ And it was why I suspected I could easily fall for him, even after a day and a half, even though it made no sense at all, and I didn’t believe in things like fate or love at first sight.
‘You’ll be there? You won’t forget?’
He looked so uncharacteristically vulnerable that I couldn’t resist pulling his face towards mine and kissing him. ‘I won’t forget,’ I whispered as we rested our foreheads against each other. ‘Besides, I’m getting your number … We’ll be in contact the whole time, even if we can’t see each other in person. There’s no way we’re just disappearing from each other’s lives for twelve months and then turning up at St Dunstan’s hoping for the best. That would be daft.’
I pulled my phone from my bag. It seemed weird we hadn’t exchanged numbers before now, but since we’d been right next to each other for the last day and a half, it hadn’t really been necessary. ‘Oh, crap,’ I said as I tried to wake it up. ‘It’s completely dead.’ I’d had about fifty per cent battery when I’d left the house the day before. At the time, I’d thought it would be plenty.
‘It’s okay,’ Ben said. ‘I’m really low, but I’ve got enough juice to put your number in my phone, then when I get to Schiphol I’ll charge it and send you a message so you’ve got mine.’ He handed me his phone, and I tapped my number in and gave it back to him.
‘I’ll be waiting,’ I said, already knowing that even though it would only be a few hours, it would feel like a lifetime.
Ben glanced at the departures board and frowned. ‘I’ve waited far too long. I’d better get a move on, but before I go …’ He pulled a small paper bag from his pocket and handed it to me.
I unfolded the top and peered inside. ‘Oh, Ben … You didn’t have to buy me anything!’ I knew he didn’t have the money. Inside was a fine silver chain with a tiny silver bee pendant. I made a hiccupping sound that I wasn’t sure signalled laughter or tears. It was possibly both.
He gave me a wonky, slightly self-conscious smile. ‘I tried to find a wasp, but no one does wasps, apparently, so it was this or nothing.’
‘I love it!’ I said, clutching it tightly as I kissed him again. ‘When did you manage to buy it without me seeing?’
‘Remember when you were browsing the stall full of semiprecious stones at the market, and I went to grab us some cold drinks? I may have found this then.’
He took the necklace from me and made me turn round so he could hang it around my neck and fasten the catch. I turned back to face him. ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘that bees travel miles and miles away from their homes, but they always find their way back?’ He leaned in and kissed me softly. ‘It means you’ll find your way back to me, Lili.’
‘Actually, that’s just what my family call me. I’m actually called …’
But I realised he was only half listening. His gaze had been snagged by the departures board. ‘My gate number has just popped up. I’m going to have to run!’ He kissed me quickly.
‘But—’
‘Send me a message once your phone’s charged! Tell me then!’ He jogged away and disappeared into the security hall before I could argue.
I stared at the empty space between the doors where I’d last seen him, and I stayed there until the departures board showed his flight had departed, then I turned – my body suddenly heavy and complaining about the lack of sleep – and headed towards home. However, I knew I wouldn’t sleep until the message he’d promised had arrived.
Part II
Chapter Five
Now.
SHE WASN’T SURE if she’d roused from slumber or if her surroundings had come slowly into focus. Her eyes might have been closed, lids having just fluttered open, or they could have been open already. She really couldn’t say for certain. All she knew was that it felt as if she’d been wandering around in a dense, pearly fog, and now the sky had cleared.
This place was beautiful. A gauzy mist hovered above the unruffled surface of a lake surrounded by low mountains, their weathered tops rising above the treeline. The curving beach was covered with dark stones of different sizes, some just pebbles, some full-grown rocks, slick with seaweed. Beyond the arc of the shoreline, there was a hump-backed bridge made of ancient stone, and, behind that, the turrets of a castle poked above a row of evergreens. It was as if she’d been dumped down in the middle of a fairy tale.
A noise penetrated the thick blanket of her thoughts. Seagulls. She could hear seagulls. Usually, she found their cries irritating – a horrible, greedy nagging – but as they echoed through the cold morning air, they sounded exquisitely forlorn.
Other sounds began to filter in: the lap of the gentle waves against the rocky beach, the rumble of a car pulling away and getting quieter as it climbed over the hump of the bridge and disappeared from view.
She seemed to be on the edge of a small town, but like no town she’d ever visited before. It was a couple of centuries old at least. The main street was probably only a hundred metres long, flanked on both sides with uniform, white-rendered buildings, all with contrasting black window and door frames.
She stood up, eager to explore, then paused to look down at her legs and feet. She’d been sitting down. On a bench. Beside a bus stop. For some reason, that seemed like new information.
How long? How long had she been sitting here on this bench? Furrows appeared above her eyebrows as she tried to concentrate but it was no good. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting there or even how she’d ended up in this place.
Something in the back of her brain, something sensible and machine-like, rubber-stamped this revelation as important, but for the life of her she couldn’t work out why. It hurt to think about it, actually. Really hurt, like a band tightening around her temples, so she let the thought go, let it soar up into the sky with the seagulls, and then she turned and walked up a slight incline towards the large Georgian church standing guard at the top end of the High Street.
The smell of frying bacon hit her nostrils as she passed the open door to a bed and breakfast with a café on the ground floor. She gravitated towards it, crossing the threshold. There was an empty table just inside the door, and she eased herself into a chair and soothed her grumbling belly with a rub of her palm.
