‘Just thinking about this whole going back thing,’ I said, wiggling my toes at myself. ‘Just stressing myself out.’
‘Huh.’ He rested his chin on the side of the bath and looked at me with bright green eyes. ‘You know you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I feel like it’s getting to be a thing. What’s up with you and your mom? What’s with the big freak-out?’
Now there was a question. I thought about it for a moment, waiting for words to come out of my mouth. But they didn’t. For the first time in my entire life.
‘I mean, it’s not like I don’t have parental issues of my own,’ Alex went on, filling in the silence for me. ‘But you’re gonna have to help me out. You don’t want to go home or you just don’t want to see her?’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied. It didn’t help, but it was honest.
‘You guys don’t get along?’
‘We actually used to be all right,’ I said, remembering all the Sunday dinners in front of the EastEnders omnibus. ‘I mean, she’s my mum. She’s a pain in the arse, but I just − I just feel bad.’
Alex resumed the hair-stroking. ‘Because?’
‘Because I came here. I left her. And I know that, for all her moaning, she misses me, and I feel guilty. As much as she’s a pain in the arse, my mum’s always been there for me.’ I couldn’t help but think about Louisa’s wedding. Who else would put you to bed and tell you everything was going to be all right immediately after you’d split up a ten-year relationship, made something of a scene and broken the groom’s hand with a stiletto? Only your mother.
‘The day you don’t feel guilty about your parents will be the day the world stops turning,’ Alex said. ‘I think going back to visit is a good thing. Maybe it’ll remind her you’re still here. You’re not on the moon, you’re just a plane ride away. Maybe she’ll stop guilt-tripping you so much.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ And maybe I’ll wake up to find a bacon sandwich winging its way past the window. Silly Alex. ‘It just feels so strange. Like, I won’t be welcome.’
‘Well, that’s dumb,’ he laughed, pulling on my ponytail. ‘I didn’t want to say anything, but I’ve already had two emails from Louisa and a Facebook friend request from your dad. They can’t wait to see you.’
‘Parents really shouldn’t be allowed on Facebook,’ I said, making a face and trying to smile. ‘Please feel free to ignore it. I know they’re excited to see me. And I’m excited to see them.’
‘But?’
I looked around the bathroom. At the towels on the heated rail, at all my products loaded on the windowsill, at my boyfriend on the floor, and imagined my life for a moment without any of it.
‘But I still don’t want to go,’ I said eventually.
‘Because?’
‘Because I left,’ I said with a deep breath. ‘And I’m scared that if I go back home to England, I’ll have to give up my home in New York.’
Alex breathed out with a whistle. ‘Wow.’
I turned my head to the side to face him properly and did not enjoy his expression.
‘You realize that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said?’ Alex asked. ‘And you know, between you and me, you’ve said some pretty dumb shit over the years. It’s not an either/or sitch.’
‘I know,’ I whined, dropping my toes back into the bath and flipping the bubbles around my feet. ‘But you don’t get it. When I came here, everything changed. I met Jenny, I started writing, I met you. I changed. I didn’t like myself before. Before, I would just sit in my pyjamas and watch Sex and the City and wait for something to happen.’
‘Angela, what did you do last night?’
‘I sat on the settee in my pyjamas and watched Sex and the City, but that’s not the point,’ I replied. ‘It’s different. I’m different.’
‘I do get what you’re saying,’ he started carefully, choosing his words, presumably to minimize the chances that I would pull him face first into the bath. He was treading a very fine line. ‘But just listen to what you’re saying. You are different now. Even if you get back and they’re all the same. I know things weren’t awesome for you before you moved here − people don’t usually get on a plane and move to another country without notice if they’re super-happy with life − but what you have here, what you’ve achieved, no one can take away from you.’
I bit my lip and nodded.
‘No one can take me away from you.’ He reached into the bath water and pulled out my left hand, holding my ring up to the light. ‘And no one is going to take you away from me.’
I felt myself blush from head to toe. Sometimes I still didn’t quite believe it.
‘We’re going to go to London, you’re gonna show everyone this ring, and I’m gonna knock your mom’s socks off. By the time I’m done, she’s going to love me so much, she’ll be pushing you back on that plane. Back to New York, back to the magazine, back to all your friends and, like it or not, I’m going to marry your ass.’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ I said, trying to maintain my grumpy face, but it was hard when he was sitting there making sense and being adorable.
‘So, list of reasons to be cheerful?’ He squeezed my hand tightly. ‘You’re gonna see your mom and stop beating yourself up. You get to see Louisa and the baby. You get to see me being adorable with a baby. Your magazine is gonna kick ass and we get to go on a trip to London. I think that’s pretty cool. I’m excited.’
There were a million good reasons to marry Alex Reid, but one of the best was his ability to talk sense and put a smile on my face when I couldn’t see the lovely wood for the shitty trees.
‘And if you don’t tell me you’re excited, I’m going to drag you out of that bath and throw you into the East River,’ he declared.
‘You’re all talk, Reid.’ I shuffled further into the bath, further under the bubbles.
‘Is that right?’ He leapt to his feet, all six-foot-something in skintight jeans and a battered old black T-shirt. ‘You’re asking for trouble now.’
‘Fuck off and put the kettle on,’ I yawned. ‘I’ll be out in a minute.’
‘That does it. Get your ass out the bath and put the kettle on yourself.’
Without warning, he leaned over into the bath and picked me up. I reached up and grabbed around his neck instinctively, half the bath water following me out.
‘Alex, put me down,’ I squealed, dripping wet and completely and utterly naked. ‘Put me back in the bath!’
‘No way.’ He held me tightly, so much stronger than he had any right to be, and ducked my flailing, sodden limbs. ‘That’s enough sulking in the bath for one day. It’s time you made my dinner, woman.’
I
