The Switch(102)

She’s wearing a long black dress that leaves her arms bare; there’s a striking silver bangle on her wrist, but that’s all the adornment she needs. Her hair is stunning – worn as it should be, loose and large and full of life.

I glance at Jackson. He’s staring at Leena. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs. You’d have to be a fool not to tell what that man is thinking.

‘Leena,’ Ethan calls out to our left, pushing through the crowd.

I curse under my breath. ‘The little weasel!’ I hiss, trying to shove Jackson forwards. ‘Quick, before he …’

Jackson holds his ground and shakes his head. ‘Not like this,’ he says.

I huff, but stay where I am. At the bar, Leena’s brushing Ethan off. Her cheeks are flushed – she’s getting up now, trying to walk away – towards us …

‘Look, Ethan,’ she says, spinning on her heels just a few feet away. ‘I gave you a free pass, didn’t I? I didn’t even know I’d done it, but you did. I decided you were the guy for me and that was it. Well, turns out that pass does expire, Ethan, and there is a line, and you fucking crossed it.’

‘Leena, listen to me—’

‘I don’t know what was worse! Sleeping with my arch-bloody-nemesis or telling me my grandmother was losing her mind! Do you know how messed up that was?’

‘I panicked,’ Ethan wheedles. ‘I didn’t mean—’

‘Do you know what? Do you know what? I’m almost pleased you slept with Ceci. There. I said it. I’m glad you cheated on me because thank God I came to my senses and realised you weren’t right for me at all. Not this me, not the me I am now, not any more. We’re done.’

And with that she turns to storm off and walks right into Jackson.

He catches her arm as she stumbles backwards. Their eyes meet. Her cheeks are flushed, his lips are parted. Around us the crowd shifts, closing Ethan from view, leaving a small quiet island just here. Just the two of them.

Oh, well, and me, I suppose.

‘Jackson?’ Leena says, baffled. She looks him up and down. ‘Oh, wow, you look …’

I breathe in, hand at my heart. Here it comes.

‘Weird,’ Leena finishes.

‘Weird?’ I blurt. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, girl!’

They both turn to me then.

‘Grandma?’ Leena looks between me and Jackson, then glances over her shoulder as if remembering Ethan. Her eyes narrow. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing,’ I say quickly. ‘Jackson just fancied a trip to London, and so I thought, oh, there’s a party this evening and …’

Her eyes are narrowed to slits.

‘Oh, look,’ I say brightly, as a member of staff heads out of the storage room to the side of the bar. ‘Just come this way a minute.’ I grab Leena and Jackson by the hands and pull. Thankfully they follow me. I lead them into the storage room.

‘Wha—Grandma, where are we—’

I duck out and close the door behind them.

‘There,’ I say, brushing my hands down on my culottes. ‘Not many seventy-nine-year-olds who could be quite that nimble, if I do say so myself.’ I tap a nearby gentleman on the shoulder. ‘Excuse me,’ I say. ‘Would you mind leaning on this door, please?’

‘Grandma?’ Leena calls through the door. ‘Grandma, what are you doing?’

‘Meddling!’ I yell cheerfully. ‘It’s my new “thing”!’





39


Leena


This cupboard is extremely small. It’s also lined with shelves, so there’s nothing to lean on; Jackson and I are standing very close together but not quite touching, as though we’re on a tube train.

What is Grandma playing at? I look down at my feet, trying to shuffle backwards, and my hair brushes against Jackson’s shirt. He inhales sharply, raises a hand to his head, and elbows me in the shoulder.

‘Sorry,’ we both say.

I laugh. It comes out far too high-pitched.

‘This is my fault,’ Jackson says eventually. I risk a look up at him; we’re so close together, I have to crane my neck to see his face. ‘I shouldn’t have let her talk me into coming.’

‘Did you … come to see me?’

He looks down at me then. We’re so close our noses almost touch. I’m not sure I’ve ever been quite so aware of somebody, physically, I mean – I hear every rustle as he moves, feel the heat of his body inches from mine.

‘Course I did,’ he says, and just like that, my pulse is thundering again.

There’s just something about Jackson. Even with his hair all fluffed up, and dried-out shaving foam behind his ear, he’s so sexy. It’s the unintentional confidence he has, as if he’s wholly himself and couldn’t possibly manage being somebody else even if he wanted to.

‘Though,’ he goes on, ‘this is not how I imagined we’d see each other again. Bit of a last-minute plan change. Think I got Eileened.’

His hand brushes mine. I inhale sharply, and his eyes search my face, but it’s not an objection, it’s a reaction to the sharp shot of heat that comes when his skin touches mine. I let my fingers twine with his, and I feel like a schoolkid doing seven minutes in heaven with the guy I’ve been crushing on all year.