Lessons in Laughing Out Loud (48 page)

Daniel stared at her, aghast.

“Are you crazy? You’re the best person I know. And not just now, not just recently when you’ve gotten all sexy and in demand. I mean always. You have always been the best person I know, the person I know who most deserves all the things you deny yourself. Including a piece of this hot hunk of love, you know what I’m saying?”

“I do know what you are saying and I’m saying no thank you, thank you very much for asking.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Willow, it’s me, it’s Daniel, saying you and me babe, how about it?”

“I know, I look at you and you are so very handsome that I think I must be crazy, but I know I’m right. We became friends out of a whole mess of confusion, but even though I’ve been torturing myself over you all of these years, your friendship has meant a lot to me. I want us to be friends, Daniel.”

“Ouch.” Daniel covered his belly with his hands as if he had just been punched. “You’re giving me the ‘let’s be friends’ speech, when we haven’t even had sex? If you’re going to give me the ‘let’s be friends’ speech, then the very least I deserve is some sex.” The glint in Daniel’s lovely eyes was all the proof that Willow needed to know he wasn’t heartbroken. “Come
on, Willow, don’t be the one woman in the world I’ll never have.”

“I think that is exactly the woman I am.” Willow smiled brightly at him. “Now, do you want a cup of tea?”

It was getting on for ten when Sam and Chloe came back. Daniel had been texting Kayla even before he’d finished his tea and instead of feeling hurt or vaguely surprised Willow had felt relieved. The moment of madness that had started on a wet afternoon five years ago was finally over and now they could just relax and enjoy each other’s company.

“Nice dinner?” Willow asked as Chloe collapsed awkwardly onto the sofa, holding her palm over her belly.

“Well, there was no arugula, so it was a start,” she grumbled amiably, grinning at her dad.

“It was a very nice dinner. We talked a lot, didn’t we, Chlo?” Sam smiled at Willow. “All this time we thought we were at odds with each other, turns out that actually we think the same way about most things.”

“Yes, we do.” Chloe’s face fell serious. “We talked and talked, and I went over and over everything with Dad and he’s behind me a hundred percent.” Chloe and Sam exchanged a glance of solidarity that warmed Willow’s heart, even as the anticipation she felt gripped her.

“I’ve decided what I’m going to do, Willow,” Chloe said, hauling herself up into a sitting position.

“Right.” Willow felt her heart race and her hand reach up and close around the locket.

Chloe smiled. “I’d really like to stay here with you until the baby is born.”

She looked at Sam, who nodded for her to go on.

“And, well, Dad and I have talked and . . . I think adoption is the right way to go,” Chloe said.

“Oh.” The word, more like a sigh, escaped from Willow before she could stop, her heart plummeting downward. “Well, then you know I’m here for you, to support you through every minute of it.”

“Yes, I do know that,” Chloe said. “Which is why . . . I’m going to keep the baby and you are going to adopt me. If you don’t mind.”

“What?” Willow’s jaw dropped open as she watched the hopeful smile that lit up Chloe’s face.

“Please, please don’t think I’m mad,” Chloe said, the words tumbling out of her. “I’ve talked it through with Dad and we phoned that nice social worker. She actually picked up the phone, which she says must be a sign, because she’s hardly ever at her desk and she was about to go home . . . but anyway—it
is
possible, it
is
totally legal—you can do it. I can be adopted until I’m eighteen, and you don’t have to be married to Dad, you just need his consent and mine. And then, Willow”—Chloe’s eyes shone—“and then you could be my mum and I could be your daughter and this little chap, well, he would make you a granny. I was going to try and gloss over that part but . . .” Chloe stared at Willow’s frozen face. “Willow! Please, say something?”

Willow looked at Sam, tears brimming in her eyes, shaking her head.

“Is this real?” she asked him. “Me, adopt Chloe, wouldn’t you mind? Adoption, it’s a massive thing. And Chloe, you know I feel like you are my daughter. I always will, we don’t need a piece of paper to make it true.”

“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have to officially, always be there for my daughter,” Sam said. “If it’s what you both want, then I’m happy.”

“It is what we both want,” Chloe said, taking Willow’s hands and looking into her eyes. “Because it’s not just a bit of
paper. It’s proof. Proof that you are my second mum and I’m your daughter.”

Willow nodded, smiling. “Can I really be this happy?”

“You can.” Sam nodded. “You really can. And it’s about time, too.”

“Please say yes,” Chloe pressed her.

“Oh, Chloe, yes, yes, nothing in the world would make me happier!”

And kneeling down in front of her daughter, Willow held her in her arms and she laughed and laughed.

She laughed out loud for joy.

Epilogue

“W
here are we going again?” James asked Willow, covering her gloved hand with his as they strolled arm in arm through the first few flakes of snow. “I’m pretty sure if you buy any more baby clothes that kid’s going to need his own crib.” He chuckled. “See what I did there? Crib? Like a gangsta pad and a baby bed, like a play on words? I’m hilarious, aren’t I? Seriously, though, how much of a pay raise did Victoria give you with that promotion?”

“The very least that she could get away with to stop me from leaving her and going to work for India.” Willow smiled. As good as her word, India had come into the office on her last trip to London before going out to LA and informed Victoria that she was offering Willow the job of her PA. When she named how much she intended to pay her, Victoria had blanched in horror, offering to match the pay raise and make Willow a junior agent on the spot. After much hand-wringing, and umming and ahhing, Willow had told India that she was loyal to Victoria, that as much as she loved and respected India, there was no way she could leave the woman who had done so much for her, a response that had even Victoria looking quite moved.

What Victoria did not know, what she would never know,
was that India had come to the flat to offer Willow the job, and, having just found that she rather liked being in one place with all the people she loved, Willow had regretfully declined. Which was when India came up with the plan to secure her a promotion, a plan that worked like a charm. It turned out that Willow and a world-famous film star had become rather good friends and that quite soon Chloe’s baby would have the most famous godmother in the world.

“I am so proud of you,” James said. “Do you know how amazing you are, exactly?”

“You are the most amazing man I know,” Willow told him fondly, pausing to kiss him under a streetlamp. She’d been kissing Serious James for the best part of two months now, and the sensation was always the same, a wonderful spread of heat that began in her lips and languorously wended its way through her limbs in a buildup of wanton passion. Willow was certain that it was now time to do a little more than kiss James, but she hadn’t told him that yet. Two months of kissing James had taught her that it was best to take him by surprise in these matters; the less time he had to worry about things, the less nervous he would be, and the most wonderful revelation that Willow had discovered about her new boyfriend was that he really was the most remarkable kisser.

Goodness only knew what delights that hideous swan bed would hold for her, and Willow knew that she didn’t want to wait any longer to find out.

“Can I just say to you that that photo was the most amazing piece at the whole of that exhibition we just went to?” James asked her, smiling fondly to himself. “You looked stunning. I must admit, Daniel did an incredible job on that shoot.”

Yes, really incredible, Willow thought, considering he’d taken only a few frames before the ill-advised touching and kissing. She was glad, though, that despite everything, he’d
used her photo as the centerpiece of the exhibition, especially when she saw it, blown up to almost life-size and in pride of place in the center of the gallery. Looking at the image of sumptuous sexuality that he had created was nothing like looking at herself, but it did make her see that everything she thought was wrong about her body was also right; it just depended on which way you looked at it.

“I’ve got to say, it does a man good to walk into a place with officially the most beautiful woman in the world on his arm.”

Willow laughed. “I hardly think so. But I love it that you think so.”

“And I love you,” James said suddenly. “Oh, fuck. Fuck. I said it, out loud, in the street, in the snow . . . shit. I was trying to pretend to be all blasé and not feel impossibly romantic and not blurt out that I am totally and utterly and irrevocably in love with you in this cheesy and clichéd rom-com fashion. And now it’s too late.”

“James . . .” Willow giggled.

“I know,” James went on. “We can pretend you didn’t hear that. Let’s do that, let’s pretend you didn’t hear me telling you that I love you and then in a few weeks, after some masterful lovemaking, well, some lovemaking, I’ll tell you again—”

“James!” Willow’s chuckles evolved into a laugh.

“—at a completely cool and original time. Like maybe at the meat counter in the supermarket or at the dentist’s or, oh, I know, when I’m onstage . . . or maybe not, that didn’t go down so well last time. . . .”

“James, will you shut up!” Willow laughed, tears freezing on her cheeks.

“God, I love you even more when you laugh,” James said, suddenly serious. “And I don’t even care about the clichés.”

“Good,” Willow said. “Because hearing you say that on this snowy December eve makes me very, very happy indeed.”

Willow took advantage of James’s delighted silence to guide him off of the main road and down Portal Run, to where Bleeding Heart Yard opened out into a tiny square.

“Are you going to mug me?” James said. “Is that why you’ve brought me here?”

Willow said nothing, leading him around the solitary, snow-garnished willow tree that somebody had taken the trouble to lace with glittering fairy lights, until the glow of the only shopwindow in the square was visible, a single spotlight illuminating the display. The grimy door was firmly shut, and the handwritten Closed sign was on display.

“You’ve brought me to this dark and probably dangerous place to show me a closed shop? I love your eccentricity, Willow, but now you are starting to slightly scare me.”

“Look.” Willow nodded at the display. A battered and moth-eaten old fur coat was draped rather grandly over some upturned boxes and at its hem, positioned with the toes turned in, as if they were about to click three times for home, were Willow’s magic shoes.

“Oh, your shoes. You’ve given your shoes away.” James looked perplexed, sweetly trying to hide his confusion from Willow because he sensed that even though he didn’t understand it, it was very important.

“Not away,” Willow said, grabbing the lapels of his coat and pulling him close to her. “I’ve given them back. Because I don’t need them anymore. They are waiting for the next person.”

“That’s brilliant,” James said.

“Because,” Willow said, looking into his eyes, ‘”serious, wonderful, lovely, incredible James, for the first time in my life I am totally and utterly happy. And because I love you too.”

“Oh.” James was quiet for a moment. “Oh, Willow.”

It wasn’t the first kiss they had shared, bathed in the golden glow of that single spotlight in the secret little square
of Bleeding Heart Yard, but it was the kiss when each of them finally knew that they would never stop kissing each other as long as they lived.

A little later, as Willow and James headed back to the tube, arm in arm, her head resting on his shoulder, he remembered something else.

“What about the locket, did you give that back too?”

“I gave the locket to Chloe,” Willow said. “The bravest girl I know.”