‘Um,’ I say.
He grins. It’s the grin of a boy who knows he has abs and is very happy with them. The grin of a person who hasn’t grown up watching adverts that tell him everything he should hate about his own body. Lucky sod. I slide further under the covers and scrunch them around my neck.
I’m going to brush my teeth, I sign, then bolt out of bed and into the bathroom before he can get a proper look at me. Why did I choose these pyjamas? They’re old novelty pyjamas from Canada. They have mooses on them. Find me something less sexy than a moose.
I take out my nerves on my teeth, swish mouthwash for longer than is technically required, then breathe in slowly. I put my hands on the sink and meet my own gaze in the mirror. ‘You can do this,’ I whisper. ‘You can totally do this.’
I turn off the light and walk back into the main room. I’m not sure what I should say to Rhys, how to kick-start us both into the mood we were in earlier, but my hands drop to my sides when I look at the bed. Rhys is lying on top of the covers, wearing a Yoshi T-shirt and a pair of boxers. He’s on his back and his arm is splayed back against the pillows.
He’s fast asleep.
Well, thank God, really. It’s more of a relief than anything else. I turn off the light and slide under the covers beside him, my heart rate slowing as I relax against the pillows. Tonight, we’ll sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll . . . well. We’ll see, won’t we?
I can smell his hair, freshly shampooed, just inches away from me. I can hear his soft breath. We’re sleeping together for the first time, I realize, and the thought makes me smile in the darkness. I reach over the covers and run my fingers down his arm, closing them around his hand. ‘I love you,’ I whisper into the ether, and squeeze his hand.
He squeezes back, like he’s heard.
Texts from Edinburgh
To Mum:
Back at Dad’s! Hope Bell is doing OK! Xx
To Dad:
How’s Rita doing? Tell her I miss her! Xx
Um, and you and Lucy too, obvs! xx
To Tem:
Not to boast or anything, but my
boyfriend has a very nice face.
And bum.
Tem:
STEFANIE BRONS!
I’m so proud of you ilu xxxx
If you were looking for a perfect day, you wouldn’t find much better than this.
It’s early evening and the sun is just starting to dim over the city. Rhys and I are sitting on a bench looking over at Castle Rock, sharing a portion of fish and chips. It’s all we can afford if we want to hit Rhys’s target of spending less than a tenner for the entire day – he calls it a game rather than simply being poor, and I play along because it’s more fun. At lunchtime we had sandwiches from Tesco. Breakfast was the biscuits we got free from the hotel.
Everything we’ve done today has been free – and wonderful. In the morning we went to Greyfriars Kirkyard, and I told Rhys the story of Greyfriars Bobby, which was one of my favourite stories as a kid. We went around the cemetery together, reading the gravestones, making up lives for the people buried underneath them. My anxiety tried to interrupt, reminding me that I’d be under a gravestone one day and forever, but I pushed it away and it didn’t come back.
We made up our own city walk, ignoring street signs and maps and just taking left turns for twenty minutes, then switching to right. We ended up discovering weird side streets and steep flights of cobbled stairs that would probably have been shortcuts somewhere if we’d been paying attention. Rhys bought a single Creme Egg and we shared it in tiny, nibbly bites, cuddled together on a bench in the Old Town.
As the afternoon set in we took our time on the Royal Mile, stopping in every souvenir shop and trying on tartan hats and scarves. We were the annoying English teenagers who loitered and didn’t buy a single thing, and I didn’t care. Nobody knew what we were saying as we signed and teased and laughed. The day, the city, the world – it was all ours.
Are you happy? Rhys asks me.
I can’t stop the grin breaking over my face. I am so happy.
He grins back at me and we beam at each other like children let loose in Toys R Us. He leans over to kiss me and I lift my face to meet his. I taste salt and vinegar and Rhys.
What shall we do tonight? Rhys asks when we break apart.
Are we still aiming for less than ￡10? I ask, pondering.
He nods. It doesn’t count as a win if it’s not the whole day.
What could we do that’s free? I muse, and I don’t even realize what it is I’ve said until after my hands have finished. I flush scarlet, flail my hands a little, then look away. ‘God, Steffi,’ I groan out loud.
I hear Rhys laughing, and I look back at him, too embarrassed to speak. He kisses my nose.
You’re adorable.