One Minute to Midnight

CHAPTER Fourteen



New Year’s Eve 2005

Oxfordshire



Resolutions:

1. Set up my own production company



2. Buy a flat in London



3. Lose half a stone



4. Go on a road trip with Alex and Jules



5. Write to Dad



WITH DOM AT the wheel and the weather filthy, it was a long, slow drive to Henley and my mood darkened with the skies as we approached. I was exhausted. I’d been travelling almost non-stop for four months and since I’d come back I’d been doing thirteen-hour days in the editing suite. The last thing I felt like doing was spending New Year’s Eve at the Griffiths’ country pile.

Not that I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Alex. I couldn’t wait to see Alex – and Julian, of course. Our paths had barely crossed over the past year. Either I was working or Julian was working or Alex was on holiday … we just never seemed to be in the same time zone any more.

It was just that it had been made clear to me that this was very much Mike’s party, rather than Alex’s affair.

‘He’s been moaning about the fact that we always do whatever I want to do on New Year’s,’ she explained when we spoke on the phone at Christmas. ‘So this year it’s his baby. Well, not that he actually organised the thing, he’s paid some party planner to do it. Karen. Vile woman. I’ll tell you about her when you get here. But it’s mostly his friends. Plus you and Jules.’

Alex and Mike bought the place in Henley a few months after they got married. It was huge – six bedrooms, I think – and had a lovely garden sloping down to the river, but it wasn’t what I’d have chosen, had I had a few million quid to spare. It was newly built, ‘the kind of thing a footballer would buy’, as Julian put it after the first time we went to visit.

‘Or a former rugby player,’ I pointed out.

‘Will you two stop being such awful snobs?’ Karl scolded us. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it. You two are just determined to dislike everything that Mike touches or has anything to do with. It’s not very charitable, is it? Do you think Alex doesn’t notice?’

I had promised myself at the time that I’d make a greater effort with Mike, but in reality I’d barely seen them since. Alex and I emailed, of course, but our missives tended to be fairly cursory: are you okay, where are you, when are you next in London, let’s meet up soon. I really didn’t have any idea what was going on in her life.

As we pulled up to the electric gates at the bottom of Alex and Mike’s driveway, Dom leaned over and squeezed my leg.

‘It’ll be fun,’ he said reassuringly. ‘Stop looking so worried. You never know, something unexpected might happen.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked him, mildly alarmed. I’m not all that big on surprises. He just grinned and pressed the intercom button.

‘Yes?’ came the crackly response.

‘It’s … um … Dom and Nicole.’

‘Sorry? Mister?’

‘Mister Dominic Taylor and Ms Nicole Blake,’ Dom yelled. He shot me an amused glance, I raised my eyes to the heavens.

The gates slid open ever so slowly, making an ominous grinding sound.

‘You’d think we were visiting Buckingham Palace,’ I grumbled.

‘Now, now,’ Dom said with a wry little smile, ‘one has to protect oneself from the criminal gangs roaming the streets of Henley-on-Thames.’ He accelerated gently up the driveway, bringing the car to a halt in front of the house’s grandiose entrance.

Mike came out to greet us, his arms outspread.

‘Hey, guys!’ he called out, ‘welcome!’ He greeted Dom warmly and gave me a kiss on the cheek. ‘You okay? Journey all right? Traffic not too bad?’ He fussed around us, helping taking the bags out of the back of the car, clapping Dom chummily on the back, complimenting me on my suntan. This was Mike in host mode, making an effort. He made no mention of Alex.

He showed us up to our room, a small guest bedroom at the front of the house overlooking the driveway. We’d been downgraded. Last time we visited we had an ensuite with a view of the garden and the river.

‘You two get settled and changed, and come downstairs for a drink,’ Mike told us. ‘Unless you’d like me to bring something up to you?’

‘That’s fine, Mike. Is Alex around?’ I was surprised she hadn’t come out to say hello.

‘Somewhere,’ he said cheerily and pulled the bedroom door closed behind him as he left.

I showered and changed into my party dress, a rather tired-looking LBD bought the previous Christmas. I hadn’t had time to do any shopping. Or get a haircut, or my nails done. I looked at my reflection in the mirror with some disdain. Dom came up behind me and slipped his hands around my waist.

‘You look lovely,’ he murmured into my hair.

‘I look old and tired and very last year,’ I said, turning to kiss him, ‘but thanks anyway.’

‘Hey, at least you don’t look like you ought to be serving canapés,’ he said, pulling away from me and indicating his own garb. It was true: Dom was not one of those men who can effortlessly pull off black tie.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘maybe you do look a bit more waiter than James Bond, but at least you look like the kind of waiter the sluttier posh girls will want to grab and drag into the library for a quickie.’

‘Darling, you say the sweetest things.’

Hand in hand, we descended the stairs and made our way into the living room, already crowded and hot, filled with loud men in penguin suits and women with big hair wearing Gucci. Dom and I clung to each other, feeling out of place.

‘Everyone seems kind of … old, don’t they?’ I whispered to him.

‘I think they’re just grown-ups,’ he whispered back.

‘I didn’t realise these were the sort of parties I’d be going to on New Year’s Eve until I was like … thirty or something. Are we already too old for clubs and drugs?’

‘Never,’ Dom replied, grabbing a couple of glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one to me. ‘Give me an E and a whistle over this shit any day.’

‘I’m not sure people still have whistles at clubs, Dom. Where the f*ck is Alex?’

* * *

We mingled. We mingled awkwardly. Mike’s friends appeared to be a collection of stockbrokers and former rugby players, all of whom now worked in the City. Their wives, manicured to within an inch of their lives, were art history graduates who worked in public relations or at auction houses. Conversations tended to go like this:

Former rugby player turned City boy: ‘So, Dom, what do you do?’

Dom: ‘I’m a solicitor.’

City boy: ‘Oh, right. Yah. Corporate law, yah?’

Dom: ‘Labour law, actually. Employment issues.’

City boy: ‘Right, right. You on the side of the good guys, or the bad? Hope you’re not the kind of guys bringing all these sexual harassment suits, are you?’ Then, in a girly voice, ‘Oh, Mr Judge, my mean boss made me go to Spearmint Rhino. Can I have six million pounds please?’

Dom mutters something incomprehensible, the two of us slink away.

Still, Dom’s conversations lasted longer than mine. Whenever I told anyone I made television documentaries for a living, they just looked at me blankly and walked away.

‘A lot of ITV watchers, I reckon,’ Dom said.

‘Where the f*ck is Alex?’ I said.

After about half an hour of painful socialising, I left Dom gamely attempting to engage one of the Gucci girls in conversation and went in search of Alex and Julian. There was no sign of either in the living room, so I wandered back through the house. No sign of them in the kitchen, either, or in the conservatory which led off it. On the opposite side of the house, I remembered that there was a study, which Mike referred to as the library despite the fact that it didn’t appear to have any books in it aside from his collection of John Grishams. The door, which led off the entrance hall, was slightly ajar. I pushed it open a little further and peeked in. I could see Alex standing at the opposite end of the room, dressed in a very short white dress, pouring herself a drink. Mike was standing off to the left, his back to her, looking out of the French doors.

‘You might want to go easy,’ he was saying. ‘After all, you did start at three.’

‘I did not start at three,’ she snapped back at him, ‘I had one glass of wine at three.’

Her voice sounded thick with alcohol, as she turned I could see she was a little unsteady on her feet. She was heavily made up, her lips a deep scarlet. Her mascara had run a little on one side, she looked as though she’d been crying.

‘Well, you look pissed to me,’ Mike retorted, turning to look at her. ‘Christ’s sake, Alex. I don’t know what to do with you.’

‘You don’t know what to do with me?’

‘You don’t even try.’

‘I am trying. I am trying.’

I inched backwards, not wanting to witness this and yet unable to tear myself away.

‘Well, it doesn’t look like it to me.’ Mike put his own glass down on the desk and took a couple of steps towards the door. I inched back further. ‘You know what, Alex,’ he said, ‘I think it’s a good thing you haven’t been able to get pregnant. Jesus, just look at you. What kind of mother would you make?’

He started walking briskly towards the door and I leapt back, stepping on the foot of the person standing behind me as I did.

‘Ouch,’ the person said. I turned around and there he was. Again. As he always seemed to be, on my every New Year’s Eve: Aidan.

‘And what are you up to?’ he asked me with an amused look on his face. ‘Who are you spying on?’

‘Shhh …’ I hissed at him, pushing him away from the door to the study. ‘We have to get out of here!’ I shoved him out of the front door and onto the porch, closing the door quickly behind us.

‘You know, if you wanted to get me alone, you only had to ask …’

‘Oh, get over yourself. I just didn’t want Mike to see us. He and Alex were having a fight – I overheard them.’

‘Oh dear, trouble in paradise?’

‘I’m not sure it’s ever been even remotely utopian around here,’ I said. ‘God, he’s awful.’ I pushed the door open just a fraction and peered in. ‘I think he’s gone. I have to go and talk to Alex.’

‘Hang on,’ Aidan said, reaching for my hand. ‘You haven’t even said hello.’

I turned to look at him, pulling my hand away and trying to ignore the fact that despite his stubble and usual casual dishevelment, he still managed to look more James Bond than waiter in his tux.

‘Hello, Aidan,’ I said. ‘I have to go and speak to Alex now.’

Alex was no longer in the study. I couldn’t find her in the living room or out on the terrace, where the smokers gathered in huddles around patio heaters. This was where I found Julian and Karl, both wrapped in expensive-looking black coats, easily the best-looking men at the party.

‘Have you seen Alex?’ I asked Jules after we’d kissed our hellos.

‘Not since we got here,’ Julian said, shooting a nervous glance at Karl. ‘We think she might have been a bit … you know …’

‘Pissed.’ Karl finished his sentence.

‘I think she and Mike are having some kind of problem,’ I said. ‘And why the f*ck is Aidan here?’

‘Aidan’s here?’ Julian looked incredulous. ‘I thought he was in New York. What’s he doing here? Alex doesn’t even like Aidan. And Mike loathes him.’

‘Well, he’s here.’ I took a quick toke off Julian’s cigarette. ‘I really have to find Alex.’

* * *

I found her upstairs in the master bedroom, snorting a line of coke off the dressing table.

‘There you are!’ she said when she saw me. ‘At last! At long last!’ She flung her arms around my neck and held onto me tightly. ‘Thank god you’re here.’ She pulled away and held out a rolled up fiver. ‘You want some?’ she asked.

‘I’m all right, thanks. Are you okay? I’ve been looking for you for ages.’

We kicked off our shoes and sat on her bed.

‘How was Pakistan?’ she asked me. ‘You were doing that thing, the thing on refugees? On the Afghan border? That was it, wasn’t it? Tell me about that.’

‘Alex, that was ages ago. I told you about that, we finished it in May. It was on the BBC a few months ago. I sent you an email.’

‘Oh god, yeah. Sorry.’ She looked embarrassed. ‘My head … all over the place at the moment. So, where have you been?’

‘I was in Indonesia for a while …’

‘Of course, the bombing thing. Okay. How was that?’

‘It was … difficult. After that, I went to Vietnam …’

‘Oh, how lovely.’

She looked distracted, scattered. I took her hand.

‘Alex, are you all right?’ I asked, and she started to cry.

Julian found us a few minutes later, me sitting on the bed, Alex lying with her head in my lap. He came into the room and shut the door behind him. He had a bottle of champagne in one hand and three glasses in the other.

‘I thought we could have our own party,’ he said. ‘I don’t seem to be getting the greatest vibe down there.’

‘Oh Jesus,’ Alex said, sitting up and wiping her eyes, smearing mascara everywhere. ‘Mike’s friends are bloody awful. There are more homophobes per square inch down there than at a Texan church fete. Sorry, Jules.’

He grinned at her, put down the champagne and plucked a Kleenex from the box on the dressing table. He wiped the black smudges from her face. ‘Don’t worry about it. Karl’s quite enjoying himself, baiting them. He’s turned the camp up to ten, you’ve never seen anything like it.’ He poured us all a glass of champagne, we clinked glasses and he said: ‘So, come on, Alex, are you going to tell us what the f*ck is going on?’

Things had been good, Alex told us, for about three months after the wedding. Then Mike wrecked his cruciate ligament when he twisted his knee in the scrum. The doctors told him to retire, he wouldn’t play professionally again.

‘He was in a pretty bad way,’ Alex said. ‘He just sat around the house, drinking all the time, picking fights with me.’

Things got better for a while, she explained, after one of his old school friends fixed him up with a job as a financial adviser. ‘He sells insurance, really,’ she explained. ‘But he calls himself a financial adviser.’ Relations deteriorated once again, however, when Mike decided that it was time for them to start having children. ‘Harry, his best man, do you remember him? Well, his wife had a son and so did Stephen’s wife, and so Mike, not wanting to be left out, thought we should start trying.’

‘And how do you feel about this?’ I asked her.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I do want to have children, of course I do. You know I do. But I’m twenty-seven … I don’t know. I hadn’t really planned on having them until I was in my thirties.’

‘You should tell him that then,’ Julian said, topping up our glasses.

‘I did, and we just argued about it, so in the end I just gave in …’

‘Alex, you shouldn’t let yourself get bullied into doing something you don’t want to,’ I said.

‘But I do want to,’ she said, a little crossly. ‘I’m not like you, I’m not obsessed by my career. I do want kids. It’s just a timing issue.’

‘Okay,’ I said, chastened.

‘Anyway,’ she went on, her eyes welling up again, ‘it doesn’t bloody matter because we’ve been trying for bloody ages and I just can’t seem to get pregnant. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with you!’ I said. ‘For some people it just takes time.’

She sniffed. ‘Mike says it’s because I drink too much.’

‘That’s bullshit,’ Julian and I said in unison.

‘No!’ she wailed ‘It’s true. It is true. I have been drinking too much, especially since I stopped working …’

‘Hang on, what?’ I asked, disbelieving. ‘You stopped working? When? Why?’

For the past two years Alex had been running the marketing department at up-and-coming publishers, Scribe. She loved her job.

‘I quit a couple of months ago,’ she said, draining her glass and holding it out for Julian to refill. ‘We decided … I decided that if I was serious about getting knocked up, I should have as little stress as possible.’

Julian and I exchanged the briefest of looks. Alex noticed. ‘It was my decision!’ she snapped, getting to her feet. ‘Don’t look like that. I chose this. I want this.’ She slipped her feet back into her stilettos and wobbled towards the door. Then she turned to us and said, ‘I know what you’re thinking, but you don’t understand. You’re not married. Marriage is different.’ Julian opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. ‘Come on,’ Alex said, smiling now, her moods changing as quick as clouds scudding across a summer sky, ‘Let’s go back to the party. Oh! I should warn you, Nic, that I invited Aidan. I bumped into him in London last week and, well, you know how Mike can’t bear him. I just couldn’t help myself.’ She teetered off down the corridor, straightening the seams of her stockings as she went.

Back downstairs I looked in vain for Dom, but found myself trapped in conversation with some of the Gucci wives (‘Meribel this year? Or Vail?’). Eventually I managed to extricate myself and fought my way through the braying mob to the terrace, where I was horrified to see Dom standing under one of the heaters, talking to Aidan. Could this party get any worse?

I made my way over to where they were standing but, instead of just going up and interrupting, I let my curiosity get the better of me and hid behind another group of people while eavesdropping on their conversation.

‘I owe you an apology,’ Aidan was saying, ‘for the last time I saw you. I can’t really remember, but I think I behaved like an arsehole.’

‘You did,’ Dom replied, ‘but only briefly. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. And I understand, I do. I’d definitely go off the rails if I messed things up with Nicole.’ Aidan shifted uneasily from one foot to another. Ignoring his discomfort – or perhaps enjoying it – Dom went on: ‘It would kill me to see her with someone else,’ he said. ‘I’d hate it.’ Aidan nodded, he looked at his feet and then glanced around, searching desperately for someone to rescue him from this conversation. I obliged.

‘Hello!’ I said, a little too loudly, a little too brightly. ‘Enjoying the party?’

Dom slipped his hand around my waist and kissed me on the mouth for longer than was strictly necessary. Marking his territory. I pulled away. Aidan just stood there, smiling awkwardly.

‘Yeah, it’s all right,’ he said.

‘Liar,’ I replied, and he laughed.

‘Is Alex okay?’ he asked me.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why?’ Dom asked, seemingly miffed at being left out of the loop. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Things are a bit difficult with her and Mike,’ I said. ‘She was upset earlier …’ I got the feeling that he wasn’t really listening, he was watching Aidan, who was looking at me.

‘I saw the Pakistan programme,’ Aidan said to me. ‘They had it on BBC World over in the States. It was great, Nic. Amazing work.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, and I could feel myself colour. Praise from him meant a lot, and not just because of our history. Aidan was the one who first made me want to get into TV, his opinion meant the world to me. For a second, we just stood there, looking at each other, until I started to feel a little dizzy and I turned to Dom and said, ‘We should go inside. It’s freezing out here.’

I realised that I had barely eaten anything all day, so I went in search of canapés while Dom chatted to one of Mike’s less objectionable friends. At the far end of the room was a table covered with a linen cloth and on it were trays laden with various goodies: I joined Julian and Karl at one end of the table and began making my way along. By the time we reached the other end of the table I was clutching a plate laden with quails’ eggs and cherry tomatoes, smoked salmon with caviar on toast, duck parfait with daubs of caramelised orange on top. Karl gave me an amused look.

‘Did they not feed you in Vietnam?’ he asked. ‘Because when we went there last the food was fabulous. Just fabulous. Do you remember the beef noodle soup in Hué, Jules? God, to die for.’

I was trying to listen to what Karl was saying, but I was finding it difficult to concentrate, because standing behind him were a group of chinless idiots, exaggeratedly imitating his speech and actions, sniggering like schoolboys. Julian had noticed them too. He shot me a look.

‘Let’s move outside,’ I said to him, quietly.

‘No, f*ck ‘em,’ he mumbled through a mouthful of foie gras. ‘It’s freezing out there. I’m not moving on their account.’

Karl carried on chatting, oblivious. I gave the City boys my iciest glare, but they didn’t let up.

‘So,’ one of them piped up, addressing Julian. ‘You’ve been to Vietnam, have you?’ he asked. The man had a shiny pink head and no chin. ‘Meet any lady boys?’

‘That’s Thailand, you ignorant f*ck,’ I replied.

‘What did you say?’ the chinless wonder responded, shocked.

‘Watch out for that one,’ his friend chortled. ‘She’s a feminazi.’

‘I called you an ignorant f*ck,’ I repeated in a loud, clear voice. I could feel Julian’s hand on my arm, an attempt at restraint; I ignored him. ‘Is there a word there you’d like me to spell for you?’

‘You watch your mouth, bitch,’ the chinless man growled.

I was about to reply to this, but I didn’t get a chance because all of a sudden my opponent was on the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from the side of his fish-like mouth. Aidan was standing at my side, clenching and unclenching his right fist.

‘Don’t speak to her like that,’ he said quietly, then he turned on his heel and started to walk away, only to be confronted by an irate Mike, who grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket.

‘Get out of my house, you f*cking oik,’ he snarled at him.

Aidan calmly removed Mike’s hands and replied, ‘With pleasure.’

Across the room I could see Alex watching the scene unfold, her face without expression. I glanced around to find Dom, but he was nowhere to be seen.

I followed Aidan to the front door and out onto the porch.

‘And there I was thinking you’d been acting all grown-up tonight,’ I said with a smile.

‘Hey, I was defending your honour.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Did he seriously just call me an oik?’

When we’d both finished laughing there was a long awkward silence, and then we both started speaking at once.

‘Well I suppose …’ he said

‘I was in New York …’ I said.

We laughed. ‘You first,’ he said.

‘I was just saying that I was in New York a couple of months ago. I thought about looking you up, but … you know. I wasn’t sure.’

‘You should have done.’

‘Things are going well there?’

‘Great, really great.’ We walked down the steps into the driveway, where Aidan’s motorcycle was parked. He lit a cigarette and offered me one, which I took.

‘Julian said that you’d been promoted?’

‘Yeah, I’m a commissioning editor now. I’ve gone all respectable.’

‘I’m glad it’s going well.’

He was leaning against his bike, just looking at me, those impossible green eyes locked on mine. ‘God,’ he said, reaching out to brush my hair from my face, ‘I’ve missed you.’ I pulled away from him.

‘Aidan …’

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …’

‘I know.’

We stood there, awkward and uncomfortable again, then started to laugh.

‘I should go back inside,’ I said, crushing my half-smoked cigarette under my heel.

‘Yeah. And I should probably get out of here before I get my head kicked in.’

‘Good plan.’

Another awkward moment, and then he leaned forward and gave me a peck on the cheek.

‘It’s good to see you, Nic.’

‘You too.’ I wanted to say something else to him, but I wasn’t quite sure what, so I just turned and started to walk away. I was almost at the front door when he called out to me

‘Nicole!’

I turned around. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s … nothing.’ He swung his leg over his bike, then he shook his head and said: ‘It’s just … It was the most stupid thing I ever did, you know that?’

‘What was?’ I asked him. ‘You’re going to have to narrow it down for me, Aidan, the list of stupid things you’ve done is a long one …’

‘Letting you go. It was the most stupid thing I ever did.’ He gave me a sad smile. ‘I hope you’re happy. I mean it. You deserve to be very happy,’ he said. He put on his helmet, kicked the bike into life, and he was gone.

* * *

I found Alex and Dom in the kitchen. She was perched on the kitchen counter, her shoes off. Dom was leaning against the fridge, drinking a beer.

‘Is he all right?’ Alex asked me.

‘Is he gone?’ Dom said.

‘Yes and yes,’ I replied, avoiding Dom’s eye.

Alex was red-eyed, she looked exhausted. ‘Happy New Year,’ she said.

‘You missed the countdown,’ Dom added. I looked at my watch, it was six minutes past twelve. I’d spent midnight on New Year’s with Aidan again.

‘Sorry,’ I said, and gave him a kiss.

Alex hopped off the counter and put her arms around me, hugging me tightly.

‘Well,’ she slurred into my neck, ‘it’s been a f*cking fabulous evening, but I think I’ve had just about enough. I’m off to bed.’

She bent down and picked up her shoes before weaving her weary way out of the room.

‘Jesus,’ I said. ‘What a bloody night.’

Dom didn’t say a word, he was just looking at me, his expression inscrutable.

‘Is Julian all right?’ I asked him.

‘Yeah, he’s fine. He and Karl went off to bed. He said to say he’d do resolutions with you in the morning.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, slipping my arms around his waist and pulling him closer to me. ‘I’m sorry I missed the countdown.’ I kissed him, longer this time, a proper kiss.

‘You can’t help yourself around those Symonds boys, can you?’ Dom asked as he broke the kiss. ‘Julian, Aidan, you just go running …’

‘That’s not true.’

‘You might want to pay the same attention to Alex, Nic.’

I pulled away from him. ‘What do you mean? I care about Alex. You know I care about Alex. And I know she’s having a hard time, I spoke to her earlier—’

‘Hey,’ he said, pulling me back towards him, ‘don’t be defensive. I know you care about her, I know how much you love her. I’m just saying. She seems … really lonely.’

‘Did she talk to you?’

‘A little. She misses you.’

‘I miss her, too. I know I should see her more, but it’s not always easy when I’m spending half my life on the other side of the world.’

‘True.’ There was a little pause, and then he said, ‘Maybe you should try spending more time in England. Let work take a back seat …’

I sighed loudly. ‘Oh, we’re back to this, are we? This is not about Alex, is it? This is about you wanting me to travel less …’

He smiled, a guilty little smile. ‘It’s about Alex and it’s about me.’

We snuck away from the party and up to our room. I was fidgeting with the hook at the top of my dress, Dom came up behind me, undid it and slowly unzipped me. He slipped his hand inside the dress and around my body, pulling me up against him.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask you something …’ he said softly, turning me around, kissing me on the mouth.

‘Oh yes?’

‘I want you to marry me,’ he said. ‘Will you marry me, Nic?’

I was so shocked by this that I actually jumped. I literally gave a little leap into the air.

‘What?’ I asked him, half-laughing. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Of course I’m serious,’ he replied. He looked a little wounded by my reaction, so I took him in my arms and kissed him.

‘We’ve only known each other two years, Dom,’ I said to him. ‘Don’t you think it’s rushing things a bit?’

‘I knew the first time I met you I wanted to marry you, Nicole. I can’t even remember what my life was like before we met, and I don’t want to think about a life without you.’

‘Dominic …’ I kissed him on the mouth again and began to unbutton his shirt. ‘I love you. I do, but you were at that party tonight. Tell me honestly, which couple would you rather be: Karl and Julian or Mike and Alex?’

‘Mike and Alex aren’t unhappy because they’re married, Nic. They’re unhappy because they’re unhappy. We wouldn’t be unhappy.’

‘I like how we are now.’

‘What about living together then?’

‘But I’ve been thinking about buying a place of my own,’ I told him.

‘We could buy somewhere together,’ he pointed out.

‘I think I need the security of my own place, Dom. Plus, buying a house together is a huge commitment.’

‘Nicole, I just asked you to marry me. I am committed.’

Later on, just as the sky outside was turning black to charcoal, he asked me: ‘Do you still love him?’ He was talking about Aidan.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘I can wait, you know. Even if you do still love him, you won’t for ever. One day, you’ll look at me the way you look at him. I know you will.’