The Last Word (21 page)

‘I don’t want to go back,’ she said gently, tracing a line up and down his arm with her fingertips. ‘And I don’t want to leave.’ Then her finger dipped down from his shoulder, across his chest, down his stomach, until she let her hands play with his belt buckle.

Harry reached up a hand to stroke her face, feeling the heat of her cheeks, and noticing the way she bit her lip.

‘So you want to stay here…’ She felt the dip in his voice.

‘In the dark. With you,’ she finished.

She shuffled closer, leaning over the gear stick so she could kiss him, desperate for him to understand.

‘One sec.’ He kissed her, then undid his seatbelt, and pushed his seat back so there was more room. ‘C’mere.’

She precariously climbed over until she was straddling him, pulling up the dress around her until it splayed out from her waist. Harry’s hands slid up her thighs to trace the curve of her arse, and his lips quirked as he suddenly remembered she had no underwear on.

‘Don’t,’ Tabby whimpered against his mouth.

‘What?’ He stilled his hands.

‘Don’t make a joke right now.’

Tabby didn’t really understand where this level of need was coming from. It was bone deep and frantic and somehow worse than any other form of desire. That it was about Harry, about him defending her writing and being nice to her family and dancing and singing and making her feel cherished. That everything about her wanted to be surrounded by him, and that the briefest touch as he stroked her thigh or bit her neck made her feel delirious.

She was already panting, and was relieved when he didn’t try to touch her too much, but instead awkwardly reached for his wallet in his back pocket, pulling out a condom and tearing the foil with his teeth. He grinned at her as he reached under the dress, slightly more difficult when he couldn’t see what he was doing. She let her own hands fall under the layers of fabric to help him, hands over his, rolling the condom steadily down, applying pressure and hearing him exhale sharply. She moved her hands slowly up and down, watching as his pupils dilated, listening to the sound of their breathing. She then moved forward and slowly guided him into her. Excruciatingly slowly, closing her eyes and throwing her head back to sigh.

She moved up and down gradually, pushing down with as much pressure as she could, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted him to be naked, and her to be naked. She wanted to lick every drop of sweat from his skin, wanted to scrape her hands down his muscled back, and wrap her legs around his waist until there was no space between them.

She moved faster, letting his hands force her direction until all she could do was focus on the dark of his eyes and wait for her own choked gasps to stop. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as she felt everything inside her build and then crescendo, holding her breath until she could feel her legs again.

‘Fuck me, that was…’ Harry laughed into her neck and slapped her bum. ‘I like spontaneous you.’

‘Huh.’ Tabby smiled dopily, incapable of thinking up a witty retort. ‘That’s good. Me too.’

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and all she could see in the darkness was the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. ‘You’re a little bit wonderful, you know.’

‘So are you.’ Tabby slumped, and slowly moved off of him, and back into the passenger seat. ‘Especially when you let me sleep on the drive home.’

Harry grunted. ‘Well, you happen to have caught me in a good mood.’ He turned on the engine again, lowered the volume on the radio and reached for a blanket on the back seat. ‘Sweet dreams, babe.’

‘You know, I’m coming around to this “babe” malarkey.’ She snuggled down under the cover, and let the exhaustion of the day settle over her. ‘Night.’

‘Night Tabs,’ Harry said softly. ‘Love you.’

She pretended she was already asleep. He didn’t require an answer anyway. But somehow, after hearing those words, she wasn’t tired any more. She was elated and irritated and confused, and her mind kept roaming, picturing a wedding with Harry, then her, heartbroken when Harry left. A baby, with his light eyes, or holidays in Italy, or just Sunday afternoons curled up together on the sofa. Then, Harry with another woman; Harry with Jenna, Harry looking at her and wondering what he ever saw in her. Her, broken and unable to write, like last time. Throwing it all away again.

For every beautiful perfect image, there was an equal and opposite deal breaker: a reason to be alone, to be scared, to run. Eventually, Tabby told her mind that she could properly overanalyse the situation to her heart’s content tomorrow, after she’d slept. Apparently her brain obeyed, because soon after that decision she fell into a deep and weary sleep.

Chapter Nineteen

‘So, tell us everything,’ Rhi drawled as the rolled a cigarette. They were sitting in the garden, the sun just about shining through the trees. All three wore sunglasses, but only Chandra managed to make it look like it wasn’t about covering up a hangover. Tabby rested her feet on the arm of Rhi’s plastic chair and took a sip of champagne from her ‘It’s my pen and I’ll write if I want to’ mug.

Chandra was delicately picking her way through a bacon sandwich, tearing off the greasy bits, but allowed herself a small smile.

‘Don’t look so smug, just tell us!’ Tabby demanded, then lowered her voice when Rhi winced.

‘You’re going to laugh at me,’ Chandra said.

‘Of course we are, we’re your friends. What happened with fedora boy?’

Chandra discarded her breakfast and took a delicate sip of her champagne, and then a larger gulp when she realised it didn’t taste too rancid.

‘His name is Danny. He’s a photographer. He likes 90s television shows, geeky movies, crime thrillers and rock climbing,’ she listed.

‘Yeah, well, great for Danny. But who is he?’ Tabby said impatiently, trying to conjure more of an image. It wasn’t really what you liked, was it? It was what you were really about. Hell, if her and Harry had liked all the same things they never would have got together…not that they were together, really…but…

‘He is most definitely the boy I am going to marry,’ Chandra said simply, and stared straight at them both, unblinking, unsmiling, just one eyebrow raised, waiting for the onslaught.

‘You? What!’ Tabby screeched. ‘You? The Only-for-the-weekend, line-up-two-dates-per-evening girl? You’re going to marry a boy you met yesterday?’

‘Yes, yes I am,’ Chandra said simply.

‘Calm down, Tabs, she doesn’t mean she’s going to marry him tomorrow.’ Rhi tried to keep the peace. ‘Right?’

‘Of course not, I’m still me.’

‘You calculated the odds on this one then?’ Tabby said grumpily, partly shocked at her oldest friend’s U-turn towards the domestic, and mostly irritated that Chandra could decide such a thing immediately, when she was still drowning in self-doubt and questions about Harry.

‘Yes, I did,’ Chandra said. ‘And then I completely ignored them. Emotion isn’t science. Dating can be science, statistics. Sex can be. Love, not so much.’

Rhi lit her cigarette. ‘You’re very Zen this morning. I’m assuming this comes from getting laid?’

‘Nope,’ Chandra grinned.

‘You’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone you haven’t shagged yet?’ Tabby wailed. ‘Who the hell are you?’

Chandra swirled the champagne around her polka dot tea cup, and said very simply, ‘I’m the girl who knows what she wants, Tabs, so don’t get all judgemental on me.’

‘Oh, don’t make out like I’m being ridiculously unfair, this is mad!’ Tabby grouched. ‘Rhi, come on, back me up here!’

Rhi shook her head. ‘Tabs, don’t be mean. Just because I take things at a snail’s pace, and you seesaw on relationship status, doesn’t mean this isn’t right for Chands. I honestly expected you to be a bit more supportive.’ She patted Chandra’s hand briefly. ‘I’m really happy for you.’

‘Thanks.’

They sat in silence for a moment. Chandra and Tabby seemed to square off from behind their sunglasses. Tabby didn’t think she’d ever felt so distant from her best friend. It was as if Chandra had suddenly accepted a joint when offered, or turned down a cocktail barman because he was too interested in her. She had no idea who this person was.

‘This is ridiculous,’ she said resolutely.

‘Tabby,’ Chandra sighed. ‘Just because you are unable to commit to a guy who’s mad about you doesn’t mean I have to fuck everything up too. If we’re getting started on bad ideas, this whole “casual fling with Harry” thing was bullshit from the start.’

‘That’s not – ’

‘You are such a chicken-shit, honestly. You spend all your time internalising this angst, and making it about your writing, or your issues with Dick the Prick or the fact that your job is the most important thing. It’s bullshit and you know it. Because deep down, you know the only reason you’re pushing him away is because you still feel like an ugly, untalented girl with daddy issues, and you’re waiting to be a victim all over again.’ She stood up abruptly. ‘Thanks for the support, Rhi.’

Chandra stalked into the house, and a few moments later they heard the front door slam.

Tabby wasn’t entirely sure what she should be feeling. Irritated, guilty, enlightened? She felt anger throb in her fingertips, and yet her stomach was heavy and sick, because she’d never fought with Chandra, not ever.

She turned to Rhi, who was waiting for her response, waiting to see if she needed to calm her down or cheer her up.

‘Who the fuck does she think she is?’ Tabby gasped.

Rhi shook her head and stood up, stubbing out her cigarette on her plate. ‘She’s our best friend. And that was pretty shit.’

And then Tabby was alone in the garden, suddenly colder, with the champagne starting to taste sickly and the contents of her stomach threatening to reappear. All she could do was roll around the words ‘ugly, untalented girl’ in her head until she started to cry.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Harry seemed to suddenly want to be Mr Commitment. The majority of her text message inbox was made up of his words, although perhaps the cold shoulder from Rhi and outright cut-off from Chandra added to that. She met him at their pub a few days later to work on the marriage-themed articles. As he entered, on the phone, she heard him saying he couldn’t meet for lunch, as he was already having lunch with his girlfriend. How she preferred the word ‘writer’ to any other nametag anyone had given her. It was one she had chosen herself, one she had earned. One that represented both talent and creativity, tinged with a little bit of pretentiousness, and the possibility of failure. It was in some ways both professional and helplessly romantic. ‘Girlfriend’ did none of those things, except present a picture of a girl that Harry would be with. Someone not like her at all.

‘I’ve been thinking about how we should keep this casual, you know?’ she barrelled in as soon as he ended the call and sat down.

‘Using me for my body. I knew you were a shallow, fickle creature.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘A better dressed, more irritating editor will come along, and I’ll be forgotten, thrown aside. No longer of use.’

‘Oh shut up, I’m just saying. We work together, let’s not complicate it with an overabundance of feelings, that’s all I’m saying.’ I’ve been there and done that and it doesn’t end well.

‘Check out the Ice Queen. Quite the expert in casual flings, are we, Tabs?’ He frowned, but tried to joke again. ‘You know, sixty-one per cent of couples meet at work.’

‘Well, no wonder freelancers never get laid.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You made that statistic up, didn’t you?’

‘Of course, clearly more people meet online. My point is, no one at work cares if we have an extra-curricular relationship. The offer of a permanent position, that had nothing to do with me, that was all your own work.’

Harry had put the shine on his ‘I’m so amazed by you’ look, and she found herself softening and smiling, even against her own will.

‘Well, I just don’t want you getting into the habit of being The Editor outside of work.’

‘So critiquing your sexual technique – ’

‘Ensures I’ll never look at you again, let alone work with you.’

‘Good thing I have no complaints, then.’ He tapped her hand. ‘Are you OK? Is this about Chandra?’

‘This is about sticking to a plan, and making smart decisions,’ she said, almost to herself. ‘So we’re good with casual, right?’

Harry shrugged, but looked less than thrilled. ‘For now, OK.’

For the rest of their lunch, Tabby made sure they stayed on topic, talking only about work, and felt herself raise those walls against him, feeling safe and secure in the fortress of her own design. She could do this, she could sleep with him and work with him and feel good and in no way lose herself. She would. She was so busy thinking this that she didn’t notice the look on Harry’s face: grim determination.

***

It had been two weeks since Chandra had talked to Tabby. Tabby had tried multiple times to get in contact, to apologise without giving up her view. In the end, it took the biggest sacrifice of all in order to get in touch with Chandra: going through her parents.

‘Channy’s not here, Tabitha. Although it’s nice to see you.’ Chandra’s mother smiled tightly. ‘Have you got a real job yet?’

‘I-uh, I really need to see her. We had a bit of a falling out,’ Tabby said awkwardly.

‘Ah, about the boyfriend.’ The older lady smiled wryly. ‘I’ve been having those falling-outs with my daughter for years. But finally, she brings a good one home!’

‘You’ve met Danny?’

‘Of course. Lovely young man. She calls me up and says, “Mama, I’m going to marry this man,” and we prepare for all the same arguments. And then she brings him!’

‘And you liked him?’

‘What’s not to like? Kind boy, good business, good family. Channy will finally settle down. She is a smart girl, my daughter, she knows what she wants.’

Tabby stared in incomprehension. Throughout their entire lives, Chandra and her mother had fought, about her love life, about her desire for independence, about her moving out. And now, suddenly as soon as Tabby couldn’t be supportive, her mother was.

‘You’re surprised, Tabitha. I can see that.’ Chandra’s mother’s rested a hand on Tabby’s arm. ‘We all grow and change, at all ages. It’s natural. I will tell Channy you came to see us.’