Later, after terrible and wonderful things have happened, we are lying together in the bed of the camper van. We’re both deliciously tired, and have topped up our energy levels with the Mars Bars. For some reason the celery didn’t seem as attractive an option.
I’m in his arms, the duvet cover is tangled around our legs, and I’m feeling such a warm glow I could light up a cigarette. You know, if I smoked.
‘What are you thinking?’ I ask, poking him in the ribs. He’s staring up at the roof, eyes distant, with a look of intense concentration on his face. Other men, I’d guess, would be asleep and snoring by now – but as ever, his brain is whirring away.
‘Well, I was thinking …’ he says, grinning at me. ‘About those glow in the dark condoms.’
‘Okay. They were useful. But how much thought can you really give a glow in the dark condom?’
‘I was thinking,’ he says, laughing at himself, ‘that they would be extremely handy in the case of our much-discussed zombie apocalypse. You know, if the electricity was cut, and we hadn’t been able to raid a supermarket for batteries?’
‘You’re right,’ I reply, laughing with him. ‘All we’d need to do is keep you in a permanent state of arousal, and you could lead our rag tag gang of maverick survivors to safety.’
‘Ah, well, that’s what I was thinking about – me being in a permanent state of arousal isn’t practical, is it? Much as I adore you and have no doubts that you could make that happen, it would be tricky. It’d also give the zombies a really obvious target, and I don’t fancy that at all. I was thinking that we could put the glow in the dark condoms on sticks, and use them like lanterns. What do you think?’
I run my hands over the firm planes of his stomach, and kiss his chest. The combination of this body and that totally unique brain is completely irresistible.
‘I think you’re a genius. We’d definitely all survive if you were in charge.’
‘Good,’ he says, kissing my hair. ‘I feel like a proper alpha male now.’
We lie quietly, both happily lost in our thoughts and our fatigue. It’s dark outside, now, and the only light comes from a small lamp in the shape of Yoda’s head. It lets off an eerie green glow, just enough to show me that Baby Groot is in the windowsill, watching us. I half expect him to wave his little pipe cleaner arms and do a funky dance.
The rest of the camper … well, it looks like it’s been hit by Hurricane Willow. My bag is dumped on the floor, various items of my clothing are strewn around, and my two goody bags have been emptied onto the table. It all looks a lot less tidy than it usually does, and I have a brief moment of anxiety when I wonder if I’m his Auburn, and all this chaos will drive him nuts.
‘Is this okay?’ I ask, suddenly concerned. ‘Me being here, and messing up your space like this?’
He turns my head up to face him, and kisses my nose.
‘What do you mean? It’s more than okay. I needed a bit of mess in my life – you know that.’
‘Yeah, but … it’s annoying when someone comes along and does things differently, isn’t it? Changes everything up? Even if you’re happy to have them, it can be annoying.’
‘I don’t think you’re talking about me any more,’ he says, accurately. ‘And honestly, no – I like it. I like the fact that your knickers are hanging off the taps, and your bag is set up like a booby trap by the door, and your celery is weirdly staring at me from the counter, like it’s planning my death. I like it all. I’ve lived alone for so long.’
He sounds so wistful when he says this, and I wrap my legs around him so he’s completely engulfed in me. Even before his parents died, I get the impression that his was a solitary life. He might never have had brothers and sisters who drove him nuts, and he might always have had his own room, but he also missed out on all the good stuff – the chaos and the camaraderie and the shared lunacy of family life.
The stuff that the rest of us take for granted. Even my siblings tormenting me was better than being alone, at least they knew I existed. I was always at the heart of a big, loud, bonkers world – one that wasn’t perfect, but was always vibrant and alive.
‘This must be a big change for you,’ I say, quietly. ‘I understand why you haven’t exactly been at the heart of the social whirl. You’ve basically been alone your whole life.’
He cuddles me tighter, and I hear him sigh in the darkness.
‘It is a big change. But it’s a change for the better. I know you’ve been scared … worried about how we’d manage this, given everything else you’ve got going on. But, at the risk of blowing my newly found alpha male image, I’ve been scared too. I’ve never had this before. I’ve never felt this kind of connection before. I’ve been happy enough, in my own weird way – but meeting you? Being here, in this place? It’s like I’ve suddenly woken up in a whole new world.’
I fight the inappropriate urge to sing the Aladdin song, and reply: ‘Well. We’re both taking a risk, aren’t we? On life. On each other. On glow in the dark condoms.’
‘On killer celery.’
‘On catching pneumonia in ponds.’
‘On Baby Groot filming us and putting a sex tape on the internet.’
‘On everything …’
‘Yep,’ he says, tugging the duvet up so it’s actually covering us. ‘On everything. I’m a regular daredevil these days, thanks to you. I’ve … well, I’ve had a wonderful day. An even better night. So – thank you, Willow.’
At that point my phone beeps, telling me a text has landed. I climb on top of him, so I can reach it on the floor, and stay there, straddling him, while I read it.
‘Everything okay?’ he asks, his hands on my hips.
‘Yeah,’ I answer, putting the phone back down. I stay on top of him though – because why not? ‘Just Auburn, telling me they’re both still alive, and sending me an assortment of 2,000 emojis. She’s like a teenager.’
I lean down, and kiss him, my hair swishing around both our faces. I hear an owl hooting outside, and I know what it’s telling me – it’s telling me to go for it. That life’s too short for playing games. That this man is worth going all out for. Or maybe it’s just seen an especially juicy field mouse for its tea, who knows? I’m not one to ignore the wisdom of owls though – they’re famous for it.
‘Tom Mulligan,’ I say, sitting upright and placing my hands on his chest. ‘Inventor of the flange bracket. Owner of Briarwood, and the world’s best collection of movie-related T-shirts … I love you.’
I see his eyes widen, and have a momentary jolt in my tummy, like I’ve driven over an especially bouncy dip in the road. I’m going to shoot that owl if this goes bad.
He reaches up, and holds my hair back, and pulls me down for a deep, sensual kiss. When he’s finished, he says: ‘Willow Longville, owner of bright pink hair and the most generous heart I’ve ever encountered – I love you too.’
I collapse down onto him, and he rolls me to his side, and wraps me up in his arms, head resting on his chest. The owl hoots, telling me well done, and I close my eyes, smiling against his skin.
I feel suddenly exhausted, in the nicest way possible. My breath slows, and my limbs turn to liquid, and I know I’m going to have the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had. Because I have never, in all of my life, felt quite so safe – or quite so happy.