When I Knew You Read online

  Her head still resting against her sofa, Ash’s hand fumbled for her phone next to her. Lifting it up high to see its screen, she found Nat’s number. New message. Ash tapped her finger on the screen.

  Hiya.

  Delete.

  Hello Nat.

  Delete.

  Ash’s brow furrowed. Just write the damn message.

  Hey, how’re you?

  Ash nestled down further into her chair and formulated her message.

  Have you read Livvy’s next letter yet? What time shall we meet? 3 p.m. or thereabouts? Livvy says I have to ask you what to wear. Ha! Bloody cheek (she knows me too well). Ash xxx

  Ash stared at her kisses, then hastily deleted them before sending her message to Nat. She sent kisses to everyone in her texts—usually at least four to Gabe—but for some reason, it felt weird sending them to Nat. Ash placed her phone on her chest, closed her eyes, and wondered what to wear. She was surprised to feel her phone buzz straight away. The feeling inside when she read Nat’s name was even more of a surprise.

  Hey, it said. I read Livvy’s letter over breakfast. 3 p.m. sounds perfect. I’ll call Chloe and arrange to meet her at the station.

  Ash wrote her reply: See you then.

  Inside, she wanted to say more but couldn’t quite figure out what. Why should she want to keep the texts going? Her hand strayed to her stomach. Because of the sensation of anticipation receiving a text from Nat gave her, that’s why.

  Her phone vibrated.

  Do you need me to take you round Selfridges before we go, though? Buy you something smart? I hear ladies wear dresses these days… ;)

  Ash couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face.

  Her finger automatically hit reply.

  Haha! Make it pink and taffeta and we have a deal ;)

  She tapped send, hoping Nat would reply immediately. She did.

  And some pretty shoes? With sparkles?

  Ash grinned. She started to reply, her typing interrupted by another text from Nat: I enjoyed dinner last night, btw.

  Okay. Unexpected.

  So Nat had enjoyed herself, despite Ash having a go at her over Richard. Ash put her phone down, then picked it up again.

  Me too.

  Send.

  Should she have said more? Should she have made a joke about the waiter’s trousers, or the noisy lady sitting at the next table to them as well? Should she have told her that she’d enjoyed herself too? Far more than her brain was allowing her to tell her?

  We should do it again.

  Ash’s stomach fluttered at Nat’s reply. She puffed out her cheeks in exasperation at her own knee-jerk emotion. It was just an offer of another dinner, that was all. Not a date. Definitely not a date. They could take Chloe with them this time, if they decided to go out again. Her fluttering eased. That was it. They’d all go out together. Lunch today. Ash nodded to herself, decision made.

  How about lunch today? She wrote. Then on to Claridge’s afterwards?

  Nat’s reply was immediate: Sounds perfect. After lunch we can both go and collect Chloe from Bond St. Station and head straight for Claridge’s.

  Awkward.

  Should they just go alone? Ash stared blankly at a mark on the carpet by her feet. No, Chloe had to come too. Where Nat was concerned, it was best to keep things simple. They’d forged something of a superficial friendship over the last three days; if either of them delved any deeper they ran the risk of old feelings rematerializing. And what would that actually achieve? Ash leaned her head to one side. The mark on the carpet looked like a butterfly, she thought. Nat was going to Belfast, sooner rather than later, it seemed. Ash was happy in Cornwall. The emotional attachment they once had might pull them together again, and Ash knew beyond any doubt that she wouldn’t—couldn’t—chance falling for Nat all over again.

  She zapped out a message to Nat: I thought it’d be nice for Clo to come along too. Tell her I’ll see her at the station at midday.

  It had been painful enough at eighteen when it had ended. For it to all end again at thirty-five? Unthinkable.

  Send.

  Silence filled the room. Just the sound of Ash’s steady breathing, and the imaginary whirr of her brain turning everything over. She’d always have feelings for Nat. She’d known that all her life, but fear of rejection would focus her mind, give her clarity, and always stop her from acting on those feelings.

  Ash looked at her phone. Once, twice. Three times, as though suddenly she’d lost the ability to hear it vibrate. Nat hadn’t replied.

  A buzz. Finally.

  Okay. See you later.

  Ash stood. She felt flat. Confused. Angry, even, but she didn’t know why. She grabbed her coat from the back of the door, jiggled the pockets to hear her keys inside, and left the safety of her hotel room.

  ❖

  Why did having lunch have to turn into such a big deal? Not that having lunch was a big deal, per se. But the whole process of lunch, and everything it could have meant, had now somehow turned into something way bigger than Nat felt comfortable with. And she knew it was all her own fault.

  Nat walked to her window. Soft autumn rain fell like champagne bubbles outside, soaking into the parched grass of the park opposite her apartment. She watched as it drank it back gratefully, sucking it in. A blackbird appeared on her windowsill outside. He fluttered fretfully, and Nat could see his feet were tangled up in the small messy cotoneaster that swirled about her window box, and which acted as the pathetic sum of her garden. Nat watched, heart in mouth, wondering if she should open her window and help him, relieved when he finally freed himself and flew off, chattering angrily at the sheer indignation of it all. Nat watched for as long as she could as he flitted left, then right, before finally disappearing into the rain.

  She ran her finger down the condensation on her window, then rubbed the water on her finger away with her thumb. What she wouldn’t have given over the years to spread her wings and fly away. Disappear into the rain like the blackbird. Maybe Ireland would be different; perhaps Belfast would give her wings and she would finally find the change in her life she’d been seeking since medical school.

  Nat’s hand fell to her phone in her pocket. She needed to reply to Ash. Of course Chloe should come to lunch too. Nat felt foolish; why would she even think otherwise? It wasn’t even as though she and Ash had rekindled anything remotely like closeness. No, all they’d managed to do over the last few days was snag back a scrap of the friendship they’d once had. Why would either of them want more?

  Because you want more?

  Nat felt unable to silence the voice in her head. She abruptly pulled out her phone, shooing away that train of thought before her brain had a chance to make anything more out of it.

  Okay. See you later.

  That was all that needed to be said.

  ❖

  “Claridge’s has a dress code?” Ash stared at Chloe. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Chloe held up her phone. “Elegant smart casual,” she read, “no shorts, vests, sportswear, flip-flops, ripped jeans, or baseball caps.”

  “To drink tea?” Ash asked. “I guess trousers and suede boots are okay though.”

  “Sure you don’t want to go shopping for that dress after all?” Nat raised a brow.

  “Did I ever suit a dress?” Ash asked.

  “Well now you mention it…” Nat shrugged and grinned.

  Ash wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin. They were in Luigi’s, a small Italian café just a five-minute walk from Mayfair. Lunch had been good; Nat had been okay too, dispelling any worries Ash might have had that she’d spoiled her plans by asking Chloe along. Her thought process had been ridiculous—she knew that now. After all, the whole point of the last three days in London had been for Chloe’s benefit. Hadn’t all of this been for Chloe?

  “Ash,” Ash now heard Nat saying to Chloe, “was such a tomboy when we were kids.”

  “No change there, then.” Ash shrugged.
>
  “I used to envy her casualness,” Nat said. “And the fact she’d look good in whatever she wore.”

  Ash caught Nat’s eye.

  “And I used to love trawling the clothes shops with her.” Nat looked away.

  “She did,” Ash agreed.

  Shopping trips. Oh, so many shopping trips. Ash remembered them well. Nat loved to shop; Ash didn’t. But she loved Nat, and when you love someone, you grit your teeth and fit in with what they want to do. Especially when you’re first dating and trying to impress them. And for quite a large chunk afterwards too.

  Ash dug a finger into the corner of her eye, hiding a wry smile with her hand.

  She hated the shopping. But because she loved Nat, she made out she loved it too, because she knew it made Nat happy. But she never felt so uncomfortable as when she was standing next to Nat, trying to make all the right noises at the clothes Nat would hold up for her, when secretly she thought they all looked the same and that, quite frankly, she’d prefer to see Nat out of her clothes rather than in them. That used to happen later, of course. Nat knew Ash loathed shopping, so her reward was given to her in her bedroom later, door locked, parents oblivious downstairs.

  Now that had been worth all the hours traipsing round the shops.

  The smile that Ash had fought to conceal broke out as she remembered, with a sudden, stark clarity, one particularly satisfying recompense. Nat had been very grateful, she recalled.

  “What?”

  Ash looked over to see Nat studying her quizzically.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.” Ash shook her head. If Nat could only read her mind…

  “I can read you like a book.” Nat’s stare was intense. Too intense for Ash’s liking. “Something’s tickled you.”

  “Just remembering stuff.” Ash sat back in her chair. “About you dragging me round the shops with you.”

  “You were always so patient,” Nat said. Ash laughed as she clutched her chest. “Such a hero.”

  Ash lowered her eyes.

  I would have done anything for you back then.

  She returned her gaze to Nat, putting voice to her thoughts.

  “I wanted to do it,” she said. “Whatever you wanted, I’d have done it.”

  “I know.” Nat’s voice was quiet.

  They held one another’s gaze, a shared knowledge seeming to leap between them in amongst the clinking of crockery and chatter of the tea room.

  “You two are a total cheesefest,” Chloe said, breaking Ash’s stare first. “Total. Cheese. Fest.” Chloe picked up her phone, her words dissolving into a yawn.

  While Chloe scrutinized her phone, now oblivious to both Ash and Nat, Ash looked over to Nat and their eyes met.

  Neither said a word. They didn’t have to.

  ❖

  Claridge’s, an art deco masterpiece of a hotel, appeared to rise up magnificently from the pavement as Nat, Ash, and Chloe approached it from Luigi’s. A flitter of nerves hit Nat as she recalled the last time she’d been to the hotel, nearly ten years before; dinner, with Richard and his cronies, hadn’t been the best experience of her life.

  She stared ahead to the ornate foyer as they walked down the street towards it, Ash and Chloe oblivious to her discomfort. Richard, Nat remembered, had insisted she wear shoes that pinched, and a dress that suffocated her. All to impress his friends. Nat’s face shadowed. They’d argued; she’d begged him to let her stay home. He’d bullied and belittled, and refused to acknowledge that Nat was crying inside. Because that had been his way. His previous wife—a lawyer in Chelsea—had warned her. Nat hadn’t understood at the time why the second Mrs. Thornton would think to seek out her email address and contact her at work, offering her some friendly advice.

  “You coming?” Ash called back over her shoulder. Nat had unknowingly slowed, her thoughts dragging her back.

  “You go on.” Nat waved her on. “I’ll catch you up.”

  “And make me go in here alone?” Ash stopped. Her friendly smile immediately soothed Nat. “This is far more your kind of place.”

  Nat fell into step with them.

  He’ll try to dominate you, Meredith Thornton had said. You don’t seem to understand what a strong character he has.

  Nat should have listened. It wasn’t even as if she loved him, so why she hadn’t just run when she had the chance was beyond her. She slipped a look to Ash. She didn’t run because Richard wasn’t Ash. Ash had been right too, in her withering assertion of Nat and Richard’s sham marriage: Richard could also help open doors for her, and if doors were opened then everything she’d done in the past, everything she’d done to Ash, would have been justified.

  Marriage was never part of her plans though. Nat’s pace slowed as they arrived at Claridge’s. The proposal and marriage part of her interaction with Richard was akin to being on a roller coaster; she’d got herself onto it, and suddenly she couldn’t get off again. It had all happened so fast. Yes, she’d had dinner dates with him, and yes, she’d liked him. But not like that. Never like that.

  Then she’d been trapped like the blackbird outside her window.

  The concierge outside the hotel tipped his hat as Nat, Ash, and Chloe wandered up the steps towards him. With a sweep of his arm, the door to the hotel was opened, and Nat was inside.

  And she’d been trapped ever since.

  ❖

  “I just wanted to say thank you again to you guys.”

  Nat licked her finger, then dabbed it on her plate, gluing up the last of her cake crumbs. “You don’t need to keep thanking us, Clo,” she said. She sucked the crumbs from her finger.

  “You’ve been awesome,” Chloe said, “and, well, I’m sure Mum’s up there looking down thinking the same.”

  Nat caught Ash’s eye.

  “I hope so,” Ash said.

  “And I’ve had a blast,” Chloe continued. “Punting, theatre, posh afternoon tea…”

  “More than some people do in a year.” Nat grinned. She sat back in her chair, her shoulders, previously taut with stress, now relaxed. She looked around her, then to Ash. A sense of gratitude tumbled about her, because this time she was in Claridge’s with Ash, not Richard. Grateful that she’d felt more at home with Ash in the last hour than she had ever done with him. Thankful that Ash had made her return to the hotel less traumatic than she thought it would be, and loving that the cool, unflappable Ash that she’d once loved so much was still very much alive and kicking.

  They’d laughed so much over tea too. Over the years, Nat had wondered if she’d lost the ability to laugh. Happiness had become a stranger to her, but being with Ash had made her realize she was still alive after all.

  Nat looked at Ash, talking with Chloe. Their first day together, just two days previously, seemed like a lifetime ago. Their stiltedness towards one another had rapidly diminished. They were smiling at one another, joking with each other. And Nat had never been so thankful.

  “So we have one more day left in London.” Ash was talking to her.

  Then four days apart.

  Nat blinked. The drone of noise in the tearoom continued.

  “Nat? One more day.” Chloe. “Then off to Cornwall. I can’t wait.”

  “Yes.” Nat picked at the corner of her eye. Focus. “One more day.”

  A teacup spilled to the floor somewhere across the room, shattering. Nat jerked her head round, grateful for the interruption. Her mind was tailspinning, dangerously out of control, then quite without warning—and just like all the other times—her heart started to pound. Thoughts of Richard had eaten away at her. Thoughts of Ash. Of parting with her again. Of being alone again with just her thoughts again.

  It was starting, and she needed to get out. Now.

  “Give me a sec, will you?” She stood. “Just need to go.” She signalled towards the sign for the ladies’.

  Nat walked from the table, the palpable sense that the room was closing in on her hard to ignore. One foot in front of the other
. She’d be okay.

  Once in the safety of the toilet cubicle, she placed the seat down and sat. Cradling her head in her hands, Nat let out a long, juddery breath. She lifted her head from her hands and pulled on her bracelet, tears lurking just under the surface. It had been nearly two weeks since her last panic attack. Two weeks of respite, but it was understandable, she thought as she fought to get her breathing back under control, that things would have sooner or later hit her again.

  Nat looked to the closed door of her cubicle, trying not to think too hard about Ash and Chloe, waiting for her at their table. She’d have to move soon, she knew, before one or the other came looking for her.

  “Get a grip,” Nat muttered under her breath. “Thirty-five and acting like a kid.”

  She pulled her hands through her hair, her fingers feeling cold against her scalp. Ash was at the heart of all this, she knew it. She still cared for her, that much was obvious now. But those intense feelings from all those years ago, when no one else in the world mattered but Ash, they were long gone now, weren’t they?

  Nat heard the door to the ladies’ open.

  “Nat?”

  Nat groaned. Ash.

  “You okay?”

  How long had she been sitting there? Barely minutes, surely?

  “Yeah, I’m good,” she called out. She pulled in a large breath and peeled off four sheets of toilet paper, blew her nose, then stood, just remembering to flush the toilet before she left her cubicle.

  Ash was standing outside.

  Everything was the same as it had always been, except now everything was different.

  “Chloe says she has to scoot soon,” Ash said. She leaned against the sink, arms folded. “DVD night with her besties, apparently.”

  Nat smiled as Ash rolled her eyes as she said besties. She turned on the tap and put her hands under the running hot water, savouring the heat on her clammy skin. “I’m on it,” she said. “I’ll go with her to the station. We can head down the Jubilee Line together.”

  “It’s been good,” Ash said quietly. “This whole day.”

  “Claridge’s didn’t bring you out in a Socialist rash?” Nat raised her eyebrow.