Always and Only You

Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Present Day

My mouth is dry, and I swallow. My eyes are closed and I’m surrounded by warm, soft cotton. The mattress is incredibly comfortable. It’s almost like lying on a cloud, but I don’t feel as if I’ve slept very well.

I’ve slept …

My eyelids ping open. I’ve slept!

That means I am now awake. I press my palm to my chest. Oh, thank God! I’m finally awake.

I roll over and breathe out, chuckling to myself. What a way to almost sabotage your wedding day, Erin! You’d better hope this deep and almost unending beauty sleep means you’re going to be the perfect blushing bride.

‘Hey …’ The voice is warm and rough and near my ear. My heart rate doubles. Firstly, because I’m supposed to be alone on the night before my wedding and secondly, because even if my groom had snuck into our hotel room, defying all warnings of bad luck to see me this morning, it’s not the right voice.

Gil reaches across and snaps his reading light on as I simultaneously jump out of my side of the bed, tugging the duvet with me as I clutch it around my neck. It’s the wrong move. Because if I pull it away from the bed, I’m also pulling it away from him. And he’s not wearing very much. In fact, it doesn’t look like he’s wearing anything at all.

He grumbles and catches the corner of the duvet just before the crucial moment and everything is revealed. ‘Cold …’ He tugs the duvet back towards him, causing me to stumble and almost lose hold of it myself. That’s when I realize I’m not wearing anything either. Oh my God. How did that happen? I glance down at the floor beside the bed and spot a crumpled towelling robe. I must have got hot in the night and thrown it off. But what am I going to do?

My eyes dart towards the bathroom door. I want to run in there and lock myself in so badly, but how am I going to do that with just one duvet? One way or the other, one of us ends up naked.

Gil rubs his face with his hand and grimaces, yawning widely. He looks at me standing on the opposite side of the bed, the soft white duvet only just covering my dignity, and I see the moment he stops feeling sleepy and starts feeling something else …

How? How am I back here? I didn’t even think it was possible to go to sleep inside a dream and then wake up again. Has anyone even done that before?

But whatever the mechanics, the physics or philosophy of dreams are, I don’t have time to think about it. I need to get …

Gil doesn’t exactly smile, but I can see a glint of naughty humour in his eyes as he gives the duvet another swift tug. It’s enough to make me lose my grip, but I dive for the robe on the floor at my feet and a split second later, I’m covered again. ‘I’m just … I need to …’ I say as I shuffle sideways like a crab, circling the bed, keeping my bare bottom away from his view until I reach the bathroom door and dive inside, locking it behind me.

I use the toilet, because I really need to wee, and then, because I can’t think of anything else to do, I take a shower. I spend as long as I can, but then there’s a knock on the door. I don’t turn the water off so I can hear him better, but I do stop moving.

‘Are you okay in there?’

I reach for a towel to cover myself, even though the bolt is firmly drawn on the door. ‘Yes!’ I squawk.

There’s a couple of seconds of silence and then he adds, ‘Want company?’

‘Um … no!’

I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing, whether he’s standing there waiting for me to unlock the door, ever hopeful, or whether he’s getting dressed somewhere else in the bedroom. I stand motionless until it feels safe to move again, and then I sit down on the closed toilet lid.

What am I going to do? I’m in here and my clothes are on the other side of a locked door. I hear Gil moving around the bedroom and eventually he comes back towards the door and raps on it gently. ‘Erin? We’ve got to go in five minutes, or we’ll be late to the airport.’

‘The airport?’

‘For our flight to St Lucia.’

I look round the walls, but there’s no clock in the bathroom. However, the sky beyond the bedroom window is inky black. ‘What time do we need to be there?’ I ask shakily.

‘Ten, and it’s a three-hour drive, possibly longer if we get stuck behind a tractor on the A303.’

I cross my arms, tucking my hands into my armpits, and hug myself. I’d ask whose stupid idea it was to leave for a honeymoon at the crack of dawn, but I think I already know the answer.

‘Erin?’

I clear my throat. ‘I’ll be out in a moment.’ I start to panic, but then I realize this could be my salvation. If we’ve got to leave for the airport in five minutes, there’s no time to … you know.

I listen carefully and after a while I can’t hear Gil moving in the bedroom any more. I place my fingers on the door bolt and nudge it softly, then turn the handle millimetre by millimetre and crack the door enough to look into the bedroom.

It’s empty.

I can hear movement downstairs and then the slam of a car door. I dart out into the bedroom and discover a small case sitting on the bed. I recognize the long soft grey cardigan poking out. It’s one of my favourites. I grab for it and find one of my standard travelling outfits underneath: soft cotton jersey trousers and a long-sleeved top, as well as fresh underwear. I grab the lot and scuttle back into the bathroom where I get dressed, glad for the familiar items in the midst of all this chaos.

And then, when I can delay it no longer, I go downstairs and get in the car. I guess I’m off to St Lucia.