The Flatshare(93)

I watch car after car drive by. That might be the longest I’ve ever heard Leon speak in one go.

‘So where are you now?’ I ask eventually.

‘Look up. Opposite pavement, by the bakery.’

I see him now. He’s silhouetted against the bright yellow light of the bakery’s sign, the phone to his ear, his other arm cradling a bouquet of flowers. He’s wearing a suit – of course, he won’t have changed since court.

‘I’m guessing you’re feeling very hurt,’ he says. His voice is gentle, and it makes me melt.

I’m crying again.

‘I am so sorry, Tiffy. I should never have assumed. You needed me today, and I wasn’t there for you.’

‘I did need you,’ I sob. ‘Mo and Gerty and Rachel are all great and I love them and they have helped so much, but I wanted you. You made me feel like it didn’t matter that Justin happened. That you cared about me anyway.’

‘I do. And it doesn’t.’ He’s crossing the road now, coming over to this side of the pavement. I can make out his face, the smooth, sharp lines of his cheekbones, the soft curve of his lips. He’s looking up at me. ‘Everyone kept telling me I was going to lose you if I didn’t tell you how I feel, and then in comes Justin, king of the romantic gesture . . .’

‘Romantic?’ I splutter. ‘Romantic? And I don’t bloody want romantic gestures anyway! Why would I want that? I’ve had that, and it was shit!’

‘I know,’ Leon says. ‘You’re right. I should have known.’

‘And I liked that you weren’t pushing things – the idea of committing to a serious relationship scares the hell out of me! I mean, look at how hard it was to get out of the last one!’

‘Oh,’ says Leon. ‘Yes. That’s . . . yes, I see.’ He mutters something that sounds like it might be bloody Richie.

‘I can hear you without the phone now, you know,’ I say, raising my voice enough for it to carry over the traffic noise. ‘Plus I’m quite enjoying the excuse to shout.’

He hangs up and backs away a little. ‘Let’s shout, then!’ he calls.

I narrow my eyes, and then I pull off all my blankets, put down my wine and munchies, and move to the railings.

‘Whoa,’ Leon says, voice dropping so I can only just catch the words. ‘You look incredible.’

I look down at myself, a little surprised to find I’m still wearing the off-the-shoulder dress from the party. God knows what my hair looks like, and my make-up is definitely at least two inches further down my face than it was this morning, but the dress is pretty spectacular.

‘Don’t be nice!’ I shout. ‘I want to be angry with you!’

‘Yes! Right! Shouting,’ Leon calls, tightening his tie and rebuttoning his collar as though he’s preparing himself.

‘I am never going back to Justin!’ I shout, and then, because of how good it feels, I try it again. ‘I am never fucking going back to Justin!’

A car alarm goes off somewhere nearby, which I know is coincidental, but still feels pretty good – now all I need is a cat to yowl and a bunch of dustbins to fall over. I take a deep breath and open my mouth to keep yelling, then pause. Leon has a hand up.

‘Can I say something?’ he calls. ‘I mean, shout something?’

A driver slows down as he passes, staring with interest at the pair of us bellowing at one another, two storeys apart. It occurs to me now that Leon has probably never shouted in the street before. I close my mouth, a little taken aback, then nod.

‘I fucked up!’ Leon yells. He clears his throat and tries a little louder. ‘I got scared. I know it’s no excuse, but all this is scary for me. The trial. You, us. I’m not good when things are changing. I get . . .’

He flounders, as if he’s run out of words, and something warm gives way in my chest.

‘Squirrelly?’ I offer.

In the light from the streetlamp I watch his lips move into a lopsided smile.

‘Yeah. Good word.’ He clears his throat again, moving closer to the balcony. ‘Sometimes it feels easier to just be the way I was before you. Safer. But . . . look what you’ve been able to do. How brave you’ve been. And that’s how I want to be. OK?’

I rest my hands on the railing and look down at him. ‘You’re doing a lot of talking down there, Leon Twomey,’ I call.

‘It seems in times of emergency I can be quite verbose!’ he yells.

I laugh. ‘Don’t be doing too much changing, now. I like you as you are.’

He grins. He’s dishevelled and shabbily handsome in his suit, and suddenly all I want to do is kiss him.

‘Well, Tiffy Moore, I like you too.’

‘Say again?’ I call, cupping a hand around my ear.

‘I really, really like you!’ he bellows.

A window above me flies open with a clatter. ‘Do you mind?’ shouts the strange man from Flat 5. ‘I’m trying to sleep up here! How am I supposed to get up in time to do my antigravity yoga if I’m kept up all night?’

‘Antigravity yoga!’ I mouth down at Leon, delighted. I’ve been wondering what he did every morning since the first day I moved in here!

‘Don’t let the fame go to your head, Leon,’ warns the strange man from Flat 5, then he reaches to close the window again.