Love, and Other Things to Live For. Louise Leverett
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roll from the side, my face aching from the strain.
‘So, do you have any more stories for me?’ he said, pulling his chair closer. ‘Not necessarily in that… genre, of course.’
As I started to think I felt him lean into me. He kissed me.
‘Fucking wanking bastard taxi driver couldn’t find Hungerford Bridge.’
At that point I heard Amber slam the front door behind her and make her way through the hallway, shattering our rosy evening by turning the air blue.
‘Sorry, I’m late, Jess. It’s bloody pissing it down out there. Goodbye, summer.’
Christ, this is it, I thought to myself. The amount of men who could handle an angry, dripping wet Amber were few and far between.
‘Hi,’ she whispered, suddenly realizing that we weren’t alone.
‘I’m Harry, nice to meet you.’ He went over and shook her dripping wet hand, sliding the soaking umbrella off it and putting it down by the door.
‘I don’t want to interrupt, I’ll just go to my room,’ she said, quietly making an exit.
‘You don’t have to…’ I said.
‘No way!’ Harry continued. ‘Plenty of room for three. Why don’t you two go and put your PJs on and we can all get another beer and watch a film or something?’
Amber questioned me with her eyes as to whom this man was and why he was telling her what to do.
‘Come on,’ he shouted. ‘I’ll nip into the lounge and find a film.’
Before sauntering off to her bedroom Amber shot me another glance from behind the door, unable to hide her wry smile.
‘I like him,’ she mouthed.
‘Me too,’ I whispered.
Chapter Seven – Oh, Starry, Starry Night
I suppose the thought of autumn always appears more attractive to me than the reality of it. I’d fantasize about sheltering in shop doorways, shaking out umbrellas amidst ankle-drenching puddles and drinking freeze-dried soup stirred from a packet into a cup.
As the first nips of the season could be felt, I was still working as a waitress at Guido’s and had saved enough money to buy a new camera and tripod. My relationship with Harry had gone from semi-permanent to full time and to give an idea of where we were headed, he was staying over at our flat most weekends; the relationship wasn’t open but the bathroom door still remained closed.
Looking back, it seemed as if time had suspended itself over summer, a period of just a few weeks when nothing and everything had happened. Some memories stood out, others had faded. I didn’t know at the time that it would all catch up with me. Like a jolt or a shudder, a reckoning for the anticipation of a moment, one in particular, that changed everything…
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